#i am dealing with the same thing you are it seems (the hell shot) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cryptidghostgirl · 7 months

Note

Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.

Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.

Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.

If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).

That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.

As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.

Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.

Enjoy!

A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.

Word Count: 1,752

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There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.

Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.

Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.

Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.

The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.

Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.

It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.

The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.

"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"

It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.

"I am everything."

They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.

"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"

The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.

"It is the truth."

A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.

"Yeah, alright."

"Who are you?"

"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"

The demon shrugged.

"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."

"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."

Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.

He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.

"I told you."

"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"

The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"So, you let me catch you."

"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."

"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."

The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.

"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.

Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.

"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."

He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.

They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.

"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."

"And you are?"

"No."

"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.

"Far from it. I don't like being seen."

"But you're letting me see you."

"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."

Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.

"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."

"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."

Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.

"I have power enough."

"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"

"Are you suggesting a deal?"

The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.

"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."

"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.

"Not on purpose but I supose so."

The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.

"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."

"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."

A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."

Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.

"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."

"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Not at all."

The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.

"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."

"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.

He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.

"We all take what we are given."

"I suppose."

Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.

"If you will be the face, I will be the force."

"No soul binding."

"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."

Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.

"Not an overlord yet."

----

tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #they/them reader #alastor x reader #the radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader

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winchester-24 · 1 month

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I am SO gonna need a part two to Sam choosing between reader and ruby. I loved it and I’m CRAVING angst. I can only imagine how you’d continue the story I KNOW it would be good

I'm so glad you loved it! The response to this specific fic has been mind-blowing to me as someone who just started posting, and I am super humbled by it! Thank you for your support <3

Imagine Sam having to choose between you and Ruby (Part 2)

Cold. If any hunter was asked about you, that is how they would describe you. When Bobby came and picked you up that day, he let you sit the entire ride home in silence. When you two reached his house, he popped a beer for you. When you went to take it, he held it back and demanded,

“Sit.” You sighed and sat at his kitchen table, drank the beer he offered, and told him everything. He comforted you Bobby-style, meaning he told you it would be alright and the two of you would figure it out. You finished your beer, thanked him, and asked if there was any car he didn’t care to part with. While he had none running, he permitted you to fix any of them.

It took you a month to fix up a car. Everything you knew about cars you learned between Dean and Bobby. It was nothing fancy, but it would get the job done. Every morning, Bobby would make you eat breakfast, and every night, when you came in, Bobby would make you eat dinner. You would then shower, sleep, and repeat. It was like you were a zombie. When the car was completely ready, you packed your things, left Bobby a note thanking him and saying that you would call, and left.

During your month there, your phone would begin to ring non-stop. Calling, text message, voicemail. Sam was using any way you could communicate on the phone. In the beginning, you would listen to the voicemails.

“Hey, baby, it's me—again. Please pick it up and at least let me know you are safe. We can talk about this. I love you.”

“I know you’re mad- you have every right to be. I was selfish and stupid, thinking about what was best for us without consulting you. It was dumb, and I took full responsibility. Please call me. I miss you so much; I love you.”

Every voicemail sounded like that, but the contact became less frequent. Instead of all day, it was in the morning and at night. Then it turned into just at night. Then it turned into every other day until it became once or twice a week until the last week you were at Bobby’s, Sam didn’t try to contact you once. Good.

You went from town to town, trying every crossroads demon. Trying to get information, make a deal. Anything. Every demon denied you a deal, and no one would tell you anything. You were getting frustrated. In between finding demons, you would pick up solo jobs. The roadhouse became your home away from home, wherever your home was supposed to be. Some nights, you would end up like Ash, asleep on top of a pool table or bar; other nights, Ellen would give you the spare back bedroom.

Hunters would come in and try to flirt with you. You would be cordial and say no; however, every hunter was the same- stubborn, and thinking no would eventually turn yes. After the fifth hunter came through and tried to put hands on you, you grabbed his hand, twisting it like Sam taught you, and caused the wrist to snap.

That was the last time a hunter hit on you at the roadhouse.

Every so often, Sam Winchester’s name was brought up around you. Hunters loved to talk, and now you know how every hunter seemed to know you three when traveling, but you never knew them. Each time you heard Sam’s name, your heart became colder, and another shot was poured into your body.

Three more months had passed, and you were no closer to figuring out how to get Dean out of hell. A few times, you thought about calling Sam to see if he was close to saving Dean but decided against it. When your phone rang, you were in a hotel room, just finished clearing out a vamp’s nest. Bobby.

“Bobby.” You say that was your greeting now to anyone; you have no spark of joy left in you.

“I need you to come home.” That was all Bobby said. You sighed and flung your boot off, working on the other one.

“I mean, I can; it will be tomorrow, though; I just finished a hunt; is it that important?”

“It needs to be now,” Bobby said. I stood up.

“Bobby, what’s going on?”

“You’re going to want to see for yourself, get your ass over here and stop arguing with me.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll be there in a few hours.” You say before you hang up. You look down at all the blood on you and then make eye contact with yourself in the mirror.

“But first, I’m going to shower.” You mutter to yourself.

Freshly showered, you were at Bobby’s five hours later. You turn the ignition off and step out of the car. The afternoon light was setting in, and you started to get nervous. Nothing seemed out of place, so what was the big deal? You opened the door and called for Bobby.

“Bobby, it’s me; what’s so important,” You stopped as you looked in the living room. Bobby stood there, along with- Dean. You gasped. Dean smiled.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He spoke. He went to walk towards you.

“Don’t move a muscle.” You say, grabbing your silver knife and keeping it under your shirt and pants.

“Y/N, I already did the checks, it’s him.” Your eyes looked over at Bobby and narrowed again.

“How do I know you’re Bobby?” Dean smiled.

“You’re good here; test me.” Dean held out his arm, and you did all the testing. When he didn’t react, you looked into his eyes, and tears started to form.

“You’re back.” You whispered.

“I’m back,” he said. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. After a few minutes, he broke the hug and rubbed your arms.

“Bobby told me about Sam.” Hearing his name iced your heart over once more. You looked away from Dean.

“He made his choice; I made mine. I haven’t talked to him since I left.” Dean nodded his head.

“I was going to try to find him if you wanted to come.”

“Thanks, Dean, but I’ll pass.” Dean sighed and nodded while Bobby said he was going and was going to finish getting packed. You hugged Dean again before ensuring he still had your number and left.

A few weeks after that, you saw Sam Winchester for the first time in months. You heard rumors from the roadhouse about everything going on with Demons and hunting in packs and were looking for a girl, but you never went and checked for yourself. You knew the brothers would be there. Instead, you took up your usual gigs, hoping to stay away from the war.

It was a little salt and burn hunt. You were dressed in your FBI outfit, questioning the latest victim’s wife when you heard it. That low rumble you used to ride in. You quickly finished up your goodbyes, gave her your card, and started to walk back to your car when they stepped out. Sam’s eyes were wide, and he stood frozen at the vehicle. Dean was walking around the car. Surprise flashed in his eyes, but he kept advancing towards you. Dean wrapped you in a hug, and you returned.

Sam walked up to you and Dean. His eyes stared into yours; his mouth kept opening like he was going to stay something but then would shut it again.

“Are you still seeing her?” It is all that came out of your mouth. The distaste was evident in your voice. Sam looked taken back for a second but then regained his composure.

“No.” That was all he was able to muster up and speak. You looked at Dean for confirmation.

“I haven’t seen her.” That is all he said. That raised suspicion in you. You decided to let it go.

“If you want to help on this case, I can tell you what I have gathered so far; I was about to go get lunch- you guys are buying.” You walk past them and get in your car, not waiting for them to reply. You drove to the diner you saw on the way to the victim's house and noticed the Impala was not too far behind you. You grabbed a booth at the restaurant, and the boys slid to the other side of you. After you three ordered it, you started discussing the case and everything you learned.

“So, what’s your theory?” Sam asked after you gave them everything you learned.

“These men are not correlated to anything except they all went to the same bar. They were all at the bar the night they died. I’m not sure I would have to go back and ask all the victim’s wives, but I think these men were all unfaithful in their marriages. See, Kathleen Voss’ husband was unfaithful and wanted to be with his mistress, who, get this, was a bartender at that bar, so he killed Kathleen and tried to cover it up. Of course, he was caught but died in jail the same way as all the other victims.”

“So, you think these men are sleeping with a bartender?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know if they are unfaithful with a bartender or just in general, but I’m assuming that’s where Kathleen sticks around since that’s where her husband started cheating on her.” The boys nodded their heads in agreement as our food came. You ate, they paid, and then you told them where you were staying. Before Sam could even have a chance to talk to you, you turned around and walked to your car.

Back at the hotel room, you let out tears that had been hiding behind your eyes the entire time you were around Sam. Old wounds opened, and while you gave a brave face, you were crumpling and fast. You headed for the whiskey in your bag and drank it straight from the bottle. The burn hurt on the way down, but you hoped the effects would start soon. You changed out of your FBI gear into lounge clothes to do more research on these men. When you were about to open your laptop, you heard a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun and made your way to open it. Sam.

“Can I come in?” He asked. You didn’t reply; you just opened the door for him. He walked in and stood in the middle of the room awkwardly. You set your gun down and folded your arms across your chest. Sam let out a breath and started talking.

“I know you are still pissed, hurt, sad, everything. I meant what I said. I don’t see her anymore. I haven’t had contact with her in weeks. There are many things I want to tell you that I’m going to tell you; I want to know if I still have a chance.” You looked at him like he was stupid.

“I left MONTHS ago. You only stopped seeing her WEEKS ago? You know that first month I was at Bobby’s? You know I didn’t tell him not to tell you where I was? You could have shown up any time you wanted to, Sam! You didn’t! Sure, you left messages on my phone, but let's be honest- you were still with HER! You still chose HER! Now you want to walk into my hotel room and ask if you have a chance when I haven’t seen you for months, and it’s only been a few weeks away from that demon? Do I look like a fucking convenience store to you? You want me back; you have to earn me back. That starts with no contact with her. That starts with you showing me you want to be with me.” One tear left your eye while Sam just looked at you. He nodded his head and started to walk out of the room. Before he crossed over, he looked at you and said softly.

“I still love you.” You didn’t reply, and he walked back to his room. You shut the door and slid down until you were sitting on the floor, letting out all the emotions you had been holding in for months.

A little while later, in your measurement time, about half a bottle later, another knock sounded at your door. You got up and stumbled over to your door, opening and seeing Dean. He looked at your state and softened his eyes but then tensed again.

“We need to talk.” That sobered you. You nodded your head and let him in. Dean walked in and turned to face you.

“Sam lied to you.” That is all he said. Your jaw clenched.

“What do you mean?”

“He is still seeing that demon; I’m pretty sure they are together now.”

Red. That is what you saw. In your lounge clothes and all, you grabbed your gun and knife; Dean already had the demon knife on him that Ruby gave the boys a while ago.

“Where the fuck is he?” You asked. Dean led you to Sam’s room. He stopped in front of it.

“Kick it down, Dean.” You spoke. Dean complied, and both of you rushed into the room—the sight before you ripped your heart out and disgusted you simultaneously. Ruby was on top of Sam, no shirt, just a black lace bra and panties. Sam only had boxers on, and he was drinking her blood. His mouth and cheeks had blood on them, and when you two busted through the door, they broke apart, and it was all over his mouth.

Sam’s eyes were wide that he had just been caught, and Ruby had that stupid ass smug smile on her face that you remember all too well. You felt your face heat us as you locked eyes with the demon bitch.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

#supernatural #dean winchester #reader insert #sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #angst #ruby supernatural

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strawb3rrystar · 6 months

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hi I was TOTALLY not stalking ur acc cus it’s so good..nooo way🥰🤞🏼

buttttt I was her to rec a lucifer x reader!preferably fem,but gn is always alr,all the power to u!

so maybe like reader looks super innocent,and is like shorter than him,has a golden retriever kinda demon form and is a overlord,and the reason she is a overlord is cus she’s a assassin and is VERY well known lol.

and luci didn’t know that and is just like 😨 when she casually told him.

you can do this by hcs,one shot,or blurb ur choice :3

Simplicity is far from simple.

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem! Overlord! Reader

Warnings: A tiny wee bit of hurt, but lots of comfort and fluff

Word count: 534

✰Masterlist

When you first met Lucifer you were one of the many, many sinners who had never seen him before. You had only ever heard about him in stories. You must admit he looked very different than how you pictured him in your head.

You were immediately enthralled by his charm and wittyness. He was also quite charmed by you, as you were unlike any sinners he'd seen before. After Lilith left him, Lucifer was scared to start dating again. But he decided to give it a shot with you.

The two of you would meet outside his palace, frequenting a small, Imp owned, café. Lucifer liked you very much, and wanted to spend his day with you. The first time he held your hand, he realized that you were smaller than him. The way your palms fit together so perfectly made him giddy inside.

When you told Lucifer you were an Overlord, he was shocked. To him, you seemed way too innocent to even be in Hell in the first place. Your upbeat personality and bright eyes confused him. Most of the Overlords he knew about took on a much more sinister form. But you? You were much, much different.

Since that day, Lucifer heard your name be brought up during the topic of Overlords. So, he had to guess you were very popular. One day, while at the café, he overheard some sinners talking about you. He heard them mention something about assassination, which peaked his curiosity. But he decided to ignore it, focusing on his outing with you.

Later, when the two of you were in his workshop, he decided to ask you about it. He cleared his throat, gaining your attention. "My dear, may I ask you something?"

"Well, you just did. But sure Luci, what's up?" You reply, walking over next to him.

"I heard something today. About you being an assassin? I know it's silly, and you probably aren't even one." Lucifer rambles.

"Oh no, I am." You say, making him pause and turn towards you.

"Huh?" He questions, utterly confused.

"Yeah, I'm an assassin." You shrug, like it wasn't a big deal.

Lucifer rubs his temples then stares at you "And why didn't you tell me, my dear?"

"You never asked. And also, I didn't want my job to change your view of me." You admit, looking away from him.

"Why would that change my view of you?" He asks, tilting his head.

"Well, you're amazing, and kind, and funny. And I'm.. well.. me." You answer truthfully.

"My dear, you're all those things as well. I'm literally the King of Hell, I've seen it all. Trust me, you being an Overlord-assassin doesn't change what we have." Lucifer cups your cheek, turning your head back towards him.

"Really?" Your eyes get the same shine they always have when you're around Lucifer.

"Yes, really." He kisses your forehead. That was the first time the King of Hell had ever kissed you. A smile fills your face as you wrap your arms around his torso. He graciously wraps his arms around your shoulder, holding you close. The two of you stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each others presence.

Star's notes -> I TOTALLY do not feel super honored that someone is stalking my blog.. noooo way >:}

(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @astrolovedy @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @idontreallyexistyet @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @blood-heart22 @cirrus-sampling-sanity @hazbinhottel @sugarplumz100 @myamythos @hazbinhappy @samohxt2-0 @mollzaj @sunshines-bright @t0uchst4rv3d | Join the taglist

#☆strawb3rrystar answers requests #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader

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she-walks-on-starlight · 8 months

Text

You Ruined Me (Do it Again)

a/n: Part 2 is here! I promise it will get juicy! Thanks to all who have liked it so far! My inbox is open for requests at the moment ✨

Warnings: drinking alcohol, referenced cheating, smoking, gambling, possessive!sevika, referenced sex (explicit!), choking kink, sexually explicit teasing.

Summary: Your first night out in a while after leaving your cheating ex does not end how you expected it to...but then what did you expect, going to her club?

Word Count: 1.3k

18+ | MEN AND MINORS DNI | 18+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Final

You stomp out of the bathroom, thoroughly worked up and now angry as hell. The temptation to find Sevika and slap the smirk off her face was overwhelming. She’s gone back to her poker game, dealing the cards effortlessly, barely sparing you a glance as she lights up a new joint. You watch as she clenches it in her teeth, moving it around her mouth as she inhaled. A lump formed in your throat as a petite brunette with a short pink skirt and matching halter top teetered over and sat in Sevika’s lap, whispering in her ear and sharing the joint with her.

You recognised her, one of Babette’s girls. Exactly the kind of company Sevika preferred.

Jinx appears out of thin air it seems and squeezes your arm. “You okay, sparky?”

You grinned at your nickname, courtesy of being an electrician in the lanes. You turned away from the poker tables, willing the urge to vomit away. You were here to dance with your best friend, not worry about whatever games Sevika was playing.

“I am now you’re here! Wanna dance some more?”

You spared one last fleeting glance at the gambling area. That’s when you saw her, glaring intently at you and Jinx. You frowned, not sure why she’s suddenly so fixated on you when you realise her eyes are trained on Jinx’s hand, still squeezing your arm. Her eyes narrowed as Jinx moved to take your hand instead.

“Sure am! Come on!”

As you both began to dance to the music, Jinx pulled you close. “You sure you’re okay, sparky? I saw you know who over there giving you the stink-eye.”

You sigh. “One minute I’m in the bathroom minding my own business, putting more lippy on when she grabs me outta nowhere and kisses me-”

Jinx’s grip on you tightens. “Wait WHAT?! Are you okay? Did she hurt you? Where is she? I’m gonna tear her a new a-”

You laugh and pat Jinx’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind really…”

You bite your lip as you remember the thrill that tingled through your veins, becoming a wanting ache between your thighs, begging for Sevika to make it better.

Searing bites to your neck as she claimed you, possessed you, marked you for all Zaun to see. You were hers, nobody else’s not that you’d ever want anyone but her.

You remembered her strong hands around your throat, squeezing tight as she reminded you that you were hers while she made you come around her fingers.

You had been hers, willingly. You would’ve followed her anywhere. It was just a shame she didn’t seem to feel the same way, in the end.

Jinx is staring at you incredulously, clicking her fingers at your dazed expression. “Y/n! You can’t seriously be telling me that you’re getting on that train again!”

You sigh, the throbbing of your pussy and the feeling of Sevika’s eyes on you making it hard for you to concentrate. Deep down, you know Jinx is right. You and Sevika had passion, fire, and raw sexual energy. You had never had better sex but that was all you two could offer each other. You’d tried the relationship thing, and it had crashed and burned just like your friends had said it would. Sevika was a player, and old habits die hard.

“I know, I know. I won’t go there. Just felt really good to be kissed by her like that, just like old times.”

Jinx huffed. “Please spare me the details. She’s no good for you, sparky. In fact, I know just how to get her off your mind.”

She pulled at your hand, leading you towards the bar. Jinx was a ball of excitement, as per usual. “We need shots! Hey, bar boy, we need tequila over here, stat!”

A group of girls giggling nearby caught your attention, one of them the cute blonde Jinx had danced with earlier. You eye Jinx knowingly as she stares in wonder at the cute blonde. You nudge her forward.

“Go talk to her, Jinx! Buy her a drink!”

Jinx grins at you. “Don’t need to tell me twice, sparky!”

She bounds up to the girl who giggles cutely as Jinx introduces herself, and you smile proudly as she accepts Jinx’s offer of a drink. Leaving Jinx to her impromptu date, you thank the bartender as he delivers two shots of tequila with salt and lime, as well as another espresso martini. You know the bartender well; he knows it’s your favourite cocktail.

As you sip, you survey the other people clamouring around the bar, spotting a woman leaning leisurely against one of the tall tables. The woman certainly looked older, older than Sevika even, but she was a smoke-show. She towered over most of the other club patrons, with dark, smooth skin accentuated by her white peplum dress. She was clearly a gym lover, her arm and thigh muscles bulging, much to your appreciation. Her hair was a dark grey, with silvery highlights, curled ringlets forming a beautiful afro. She sipped lazily at her drink, swirling the glass, clearly unfazed by the dancing partygoers around her. She was stunning, and the way your core dampened at the sight of her meant that she would be more than adequate. If Sevika was gonna mess you around, you’d find someone else to fuck you right.

You approached the table under the guise of putting the drinks down somewhere, while you put on a show of looking for Jinx even though you knew exactly where she was. You’d watched her lead the cute blonde out where the alleyway was about 5 minutes ago. Now it was time to cast a reel and see if the woman was interested. She hadn’t acknowledged you when you moved to the table but that didn’t mean anything. You innocently dropped the straw for your espresso martini onto the floor, allowing a gentle blush to grace your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m so clumsy.”

You bend over to pick up the straw, and wobble ever so slightly in your heels. You feel a presence at your back, sturdy hands holding you in place as you stand straight, the woman looking at you curiously.

Bingo.

You smile coyly. “Oh! Thank you, nearly went over then, didn’t I?”

The woman cocked her head to one side, analysing you. She ran a large hand from your exposed collarbones, up your neck until she reached your face and stroked your cheek.

“My, my, aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

Her voice was low, and very sexy. Your cunt pulsed as her warm hands caressed your face, imaging those long, thick fingers taking you to the brink and pushing you over the edge.

You arch an eyebrow at her but smile warmly in thanks. “I do try my best to look pretty, you never know who might be looking.”

The woman leaned forward, her scarred face grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Well, I’m certainly looking now, darling.”

Hook, line and sinker.

You flutter your eyelashes at her and push one of the shots towards her. Time for your winning move.

“Tequila?”

The woman smirks, nodding her acceptance. You pass her the saltshaker and a lime wedge. You watch as she licks the salt, observing her wide tongue and revelling in the coiling feeling in your lower belly. She drinks the tequila with no fuss, biting the lime wedge hard.

“I haven’t drunk tequila in an age! Delicious! But it is your turn now, sweet thing. I’m Ambessa, by the way.”

You wink at her. “I’m y/n.”

You take the saltshaker from her, making a show of curling your pink tongue as you licked salt from your wrist. You swallowed the shot of tequila with ease, years of drinking with Jinx meant tequila was basically like water to you now. Bringing the lime wedge to your lips, you teasingly rubbed it against your plump lower lip before biting into it with a salacious moan.

Ambessa isn’t the only one in the club watching your little game with keen interest. You’re too busy flirting with Ambessa, failing to notice Sevika’s eyes on you, her expression positively murderous.

Ambessa’s eyes were dark with lust. “Would you like to dance, sweet girl?”

#my writing #sevika arcane #arcane #arcane fanfic #sevika fanfic #sevika x reader #lesbian #jinx arcane #choke play #shameless smut #sevika brainrot #sevika x you

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diana-bluewolf · 2 months

Text

It’s the fanfic I wrote about in the previous post

—------------------------------

Word count: ~4500

Warnings: passive suicidal ideation (don’t ask me how I ended up here with a funny comic as a base); m/m; not proofread.

English is not my first language - sorry for the mistakes!

Additional tags: Ominis/M!MC, hurt-comfort, demisexual MC, SFW

Summary: Chris had read that “I’d die for you” thing in some books. It didn’t make any sense to him because it didn’t sound like a big deal. He’d die for himself. But when he thought about Ominis’s words echoing around the Undercroft, he realised that for the moon-eyed boy he was ready to make a much more labour-consuming sacrifice.

He’d live for him.

—------------------------------

When I feel so alone out here And freedom means I am lost When every day seems a slow-motion suicide You reignite my lust for life Lust for Life Song by Poets of the Fall

"Guess who's back!"

Sebastian raised his head from the book he was reading on his bed to find Chris at the doorway to their dorm.

"Oh, you were away?" teased Sebastian, grinning and arching his eyebrow. Ominis, who was resting on a small couch next to the fireplace, rolled his eyes and tilted his head towards Chris, smiling.

It was Friday evening. The lessons had recently ended, and the only thing keeping the students indoors was the spring rain outside. Besides, the N.E.W.T.s were approaching, so there was no time to relax.

“Aww, it’s so nice to be missed,” said Chris theatrically as he threw his shabby case on the floor next to his bed and shot Sebastian a smirk. The green-eyed boy was soaking wet after walking in the rain and took out his wand to dry himself, but instead came over to Sebastian and shook his head like a dog, spraying his friend with water.

Sebastian laughed and tried to kick Chris away, but he dodged, smirking.

“Well, I have to admit,” Sebastian said, watching Chris casting the drying spell on himself, ”it was a bit problematic to maintain the same level of chaos in the castle for the last two weeks. But I did my be –”

“Two weeks and four days,” objected Ominis hastily.

Chris blinked in surprise and then beamed at the blond, who now was pursing his lips as if he said something wrong. Apart from that, Ominis looked just as collected and neat as usual, but something was off. Apparently, Chris got lost in his thoughts while watching Ominis because he didn't hear Sebastian asking him a question.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Chris returned to reality, realising that Sebastian was staring at him with a strange expression.

Sebastian suddenly clicked his tongue and exclaimed, "Blimey, look at the time! I've got to dash." He shut his book and jumped off the bed, heading towards the door.

"Wha – Why?" Chris furrowed, puzzled by his friend's sudden haste.

"No time to explain – an urgent matter!" exclaimed Sebastian. As he ran past Chris, he tripped over and crashed into the other boy, shoving him towards the couch where Ominis was sitting. "My bad, guys! See you later!" And with that, he disappeared in the doorway.

Chris lost balance and landed atop shocked Ominis. He only managed to fling out his hand and prop it against the wall behind the couch to prevent himself from smashing into the blind boy at full speed.

Ominis twitched and breathed out madly, “What the hell are you –“ trying to feel the intruder with his hands to understand what had happened.

“It’s my knee,” commented Chris quietly when Ominis’s hand grasped the mentioned part of his body.

“Sorry, I have no idea what gave Sebastian the impression I needed some flying practice,” uttered Chris. He attempted to stand up but froze halfway, looking at Ominis under him, their faces barely an inch apart.

Ominis, who could feel Chris’s breath on his lips, forced himself to speak through clenched teeth, "Oh, I will organise some flying practice for him later."

From the Astronomy tower.

An urgent matter. Of course, Sebastian did it on purpose. He was the only one who knew.

_________

It had happened the night before.

A thud had pulled Sebastian out of his dream, and he had found Ominis on the floor on all fours, tangled in his blanket and groping around with trembling hands for his wand.

“Hey,” Sebastian kneeled beside his best friend, “I’m here, buddy. What has happened?” He found Ominis’s wand on the floor and pressed it into the blind boy’s palm. “Looking for this?”

Ominis grasped the wand and sat on the floor, leaning heavily on his bed.

“What has happened?” repeated the question Sebastian. “Was it a nightmare?”

Ominis, throwing his head backwards, only nodded slightly, his lips pursed.

“I thought they were gone,” said Sebastian, sitting on the floor next to Omins and realising it had been a long time since something like this had happened.

“I thought so, too,” Ominis finally uttered, “but…it’s just…I guess it’s a…”

Sebastian waited for his usually composed and eloquent friend to find the right words in the silence of their dorm.

“Him,” Ominis finally managed to say as if his throat was squeezed.

_________

If someone at the start of his fifth year had told Ominis how much his opinion about Chris Mongrel would change, he would have offered them to visit St Mungo, just in case, to check their mental state. The new student had been just a class clown with a finger in every pie, not to mention that he had seemed to keep pulling Sebastian into dangerous activities.

The Neophyte. It was what Ominis used to call that new show-off because the Heir of Slytherin was irritated by the new boy’s real name, pronounced by Sebatian too often. The new fifth year was manipulative, could lie with the most sincere expression and was the last person Ominis could think good of.

Nevertheless, of all people, it was Chris who eventually turned into the only source of warmth that could at least slightly dispel the cold of Dark Magic that Ominis found himself surrounded by - the cold of Sebastian’s despair. It was Chris who made great efforts to save Ominis’s friendship with Sebastian despite all the pressure he had on his shoulders due to the goblin rebellion. It was Chris who was there for him when Ominis needed it most, and if not for him, Ominis probably would have done another thing he would regret forever - turning Sebastian in.

But then…Then Professor Fig died.

Chris became withdrawn and indifferent to anything around him, barely communicating with anyone. Even when he did, he was rude and obnoxious. By the start of their sixth year, Chris pushed away everyone. They didn’t talk for months. The only thing he paid attention to was lessons and schoolwork. Chris became an even more brilliant student than before. The teachers loved him. The students kept away.

Some tried to bully him, but it looked like Chris just waited for this. His revenge was cruel enough to get him expelled. But the Hero of Hogwarts could make an innocent face when needed, and since he was the teachers’ favourite, he got away with everything.

Meanwhile, Ominis struggled with nightmares more than usual after the events of the fifth year. The scream of the muggle that he tortures with Crucio… this time followed by Avada Kedavra spell cast by him. Anne cries after burying Solomon, but this time, she blames Ominis for helping Sebastian find the relic. Sebastian killed his uncle, but this time, Ominis meets his best friend in Azkaban after turning him in. Chris disappears from the hospital wing in the turmoil after the fight for Hogwarts, but this time is found dead later.

Ominis often couldn't fall asleep, and since being trapped with his thoughts in the night silence of their dorm was unbearable, he came to the common room after lights out. Chris seemed to deal with the same, so they often encountered each other there.

The brunet usually would leave to sneak out of the castle without saying a word. As Ominis found out later, at best, Chris would sleep, curling up beside his "little" pet, Misha the Wolf, in the Forbidden Forest, because it was giving him the illusion of not being alone. At worst, he would indulge in that habit. The one that made Ominis feel cold inside. The habit of chasing for the opportunity to die.

No, Chris didn't actually try to kill himself on purpose. But he never endeavoured to keep his life safe either. The boy simply didn't care. Whenever there was an opportunity to risk his life – Merlin knew how Chris managed to find them, whether it be killing a poorly trained troll or wandering into a cave full of Acromantulas just to find a thing of sentimental value for one of the nearby villagers – he would go for it eagerly.

It lasted until the middle of their sixth year, when one night, Ominis found Chris bleeding in the Undercroft. The brunet didn’t want to go to the hospital; he had no Wiggenweld potions left and was generally too weak to care for himself. Ominis knew some basic healing spells – he had to learn them because of his idiot of a friend (for both of them, actually).

Ominic treated the other boy’s wounds, clenching his teeth in silence. When he finished and was about to leave without saying a word, he heard that indifferent voice with a hint of mockery. The first words Chris had told him in the last half year.

"Thank you, Dr Gaunt. I'm looking forward to the next appointment."

Here, the author doubts whether it would be offensive to present Ominis’s answer as it was to the noble ears of the reader. So here is the censored version:

"Your life belongs to you, and I can't make you treat your belongings as I want, so I just ask you – No, I beg you – Keep. It. Safe. You lost someone you hold dear. I understand that. But you know what? You are not the only one here who came through this. And now you're endangering the life of another person I care about - and you don't even give me a chance to help him! You did so much to save my friendship with Sebastian. Why don't you even try to save ours?!"

As mentioned above, it didn't sound like that exactly. It was pronounced in a mad voice and with a couple or two eloquent curses that were odd to hear from Ominis. Chris also didn't yet know that it was possible to beg someone for something by grabbing that someone by the collar and slamming them into a wall.

Ominis had no idea how or why, but it seemed to have an effect. The next night, when they came across in the common room, Chris suddenly said “Hi” before leaving. Despite them being alone, Ominis wasn’t even sure it was addressed to him. The other night, they exchanged a couple of awkward words. The next night, they had a little meaningless conversation about a book Ominis was reading to distract himself. The night after, Chris suddenly offered to read aloud to Ominis.

The next time, Chris suddenly stopped reading and put away the book to apologise for being a jerk all that time. That brought a string of heated discussions when slipping to blaming or resentment alternated with climbing the steep mountain of understanding each other.

Not every night was smooth. Too much had happened. Too much they both closed their hearts. But none of them stopped coming to the common room after lights out.

Eventually, they rebuilt the wall they set up between each other into a cosy little house, in which both of them felt comfortable and knew where to put their shoes so that they wouldn't irritate the other one or which plaid to choose to cover the housemate when he was cold. It was the house they didn't want to leave, the house they could call home. In fact, it was the only place both of them could call home.

Chris became softer with others, too, and even though he still remained true to himself with most of them, being detached and manipulative, there was another side of him that only Ominis knew. The Chris, who was selfless, caring and reliable. Some might say he was too caring, as annoyingly overprotective as one can be.

But for Ominis, it was an oasis he could immerse himself in and dissolve his unsettling thoughts. Floating in the void of his blindness and being raised in a family where the threat could come from any direction, Ominis perceived the world as precarious, to say the least. The price for this was his nightmares.

Ominis used to hate nights, but now he couldn’t wait for when he and Chris would meet alone, following their unspoken tradition. He loved their conversations or just the silence they shared when they were too tired to talk, and he especially found pleasure in hearing the other’s voice, which was reading to him, quite deep and low for the owner’s age – the voice that soothed Ominis and filled him with warmth, the voice that made him feel safe.

First, Ominis began to fall asleep easier. Then, his nightmares started to fade until they dissolved almost completely. And then, in their seventh year, he found himself having new dreams. These were… good. Too good, but also causing concerns – dreams that were inappropriate towards a friend.

Ominis wasn’t ashamed of them and cherished this new feeling that had bloomed in the soil, soaked with guilt, grief and fear. However, the boy was not going to reveal his secret and risk what he obtained, especially since Chris had never shown interest in a romantic relationship with anyone.

Little did Ominis know how Chris’s absence would impact him. The longer the other was away, the more often Ominis woke up terrified because the old nightmares were returning. Last night seemed to be the last straw, so when Sebastian asked him what was happening to him, Ominis couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed to get all the emotions boiling in him off his chest. All the time, he wanted to tell Chris the truth, but was afraid. The way he missed the voice he loved so badly.

He had told Sebastian the truth.

He had fallen in love with their friend.

The friend whose presence had made his nightmares disappear.

_________

Ominis had made Sebastian swear he wouldn't tell Chris anything. But Sebastian wouldn't be Sebastian if he hadn't found a loophole in his promise. Why would he wait for his friends to take the first step towards each other if he could just throw one into another? It was a much more efficient way to shorten distances than steps, wasn't it?

If Ominis' thoughts weren't occupied by his current predicament and the panic growing in him because of Chris's proximity, he would be mad at Sebastian. Or should he thank him? How else could Ominis get a chance to become closer to the one who, although attentive in general, was absolutely oblivious when it came to romantic feelings? And thinking about it – really, how? Like this, by accident? That wasn't right.

But Chris was so close. His warmth. His weight, pressing Ominis into the couch. His smell – the mixture of ink, pine and …was it Wiggenweld potion?

Just like before.

Did Chris need it again recently? Ominis hoped it had stayed in the past.

Perhaps this concerning thought was the only thing keeping him from pulling Chris closer and reducing the little distance between them to nothing. In fact, Ominis knew that he had to push Chris away but hoped that Chris would be the one to get off the couch (and, well, him) first. For some reason, the brunet didn't hurry to do it.

Meanwhile, Chris used the opportunity to look at Ominis closer. The blond's face was crimson now, but it wasn't that that bothered Chris – just a normal human reaction to a violation of personal space. Chris had difficulties understanding what personal space is. Of course, it's better to keep away from people as much as possible – it's simply easier this way. But if you already interact with them – what's wrong if you stand too close to someone?

But it mattered to others, and Ominis, Chris did know, valued his personal space even more than people usually did. Chris would have stepped away immediately if not for a detail that caught his attention – the dark circles under Ominis’s eyes.

Just like before.

When Chris had left half a month ago, he had thought Omnis would finally have an opportunity to rest from him. Deep down, he was always afraid – what if Ominis was spending so much time with him out of sheer politeness or, worse, pity?

In his fifth year, Chris had been sure that if people were “kind” to him, it was just because they needed something from him. Why had Sebastian been so friendly with him when he had arrived at Hogwarts? Obviously, because of ancient magic, which could potentially be a key to healing Anne. All this nonsense about “friendship” was just a convention, a game played as long as it was beneficial, a fairytale to fantasise about.

But then there was Ominis, who didn’t conform to the idea that friendship was a mere cooperation. For some reason, he cared for Sebastian no matter what, despite all the disadvantages. And then Chris began to doubt. What if friendship really existed as it was described in books? At least in rare cases? Inside, he always wanted to believe in it, but his rational side made fun of his naivety. But what if he did find a proof?

It became important for Chris to save the friendship between the two Slytherins at all costs because if it fell, so would all his childish hopes that he, too, could be someone’s friend one day.

Who was he to Ominis? Chris didn't lie to himself – of course, he was just a convenient tool to handle Sebastian. Anyway, he idolised Ominis like a magizoologist would worship a unique fantastic beast they had just discovered.

And then Fig died.

Sitting there, somewhere under Hogwarts, alone, absolutely alone as usual, next to the body of the only person closest to the notion of family Chris had ever had, the boy got mad at himself.

Why is he so obsessed with others? Why does he still hope so desperately to obtain the illusion of family? To find a magical creature named ‘friend’ from fairytales? Why does he keep hurting himself with shards of shattered hope when he can just be alone and not care about anyone?

Sink or swim. It was always his motto in the orphanage. He was alone, and he always would be. Why did he suddenly start to hope for something else in Hogwarts? Stupid, he was so stupid. It was time to accept it and grow up.

He had never valued his life. But after Fig had died, Chris started to hate that he was alive and often sneaked out of the castle in the hope that a particular goblin, troll or poacher would become the last.

Too bad he was good at surviving.

Until that time in the Undercroft. Chris was finally so close to ending this meaningless turmoil. And then Ominis intervened. Of course, The Saint and Noble one had to heal The Loser to be even more perfect.

But when Ominis was pressing him against the wall and kept yelling at him, Chris realised that the blond wasn't mad because of Chris's disdainful and arrogant attitude. The words that Ominis was spitting into his face weren't the words Chris had expected to hear.

Ominis was desperate. For some reason, he was really afraid for Chris and valued his life more than Chris himself ever did – not for something, but in spite of everything, as if Chris were someone like Sebastian to him.

After Ominis had left, his words echoed in Chris's ears for a long time as he slid down the wall onto the dirty floor of the Undercroft. The person Ominis cared about? Their friendship? Could it be that Chris had been Ominis's friend all that time? The thought was totally new and shocking for him.

It was hard to believe in it.

Impossible.

But doesn’t rage often work like Veritaserum? And Ominis had been mad. He had been so mad that Chris feared that if he had said a word, Ominis would have killed him on the spot and become even madder.

When Hope, the dying creature with broken wings inside of Chris, tried to draw attention to itself, the boy became irritated that he wanted to listen to it again instead of kicking it away. But this new theory was worth investigating. What was he losing?

Starting to speak with Ominis again was one of the hardest things he had ever done (and he had defeated Ranrok). What if he understood it all wrong and would just impose himself on the blind boy? What if their last interaction had at last destroyed whatever they had had? What if Ominis would just push him away, laughing? But the experiment should be continued.

The results exceeded Chris’s wildest expectations. Ominis not only accepted him as if nothing had happened and gave him enough time to gather himself together to apologise. For some miraculous reason, Chris felt that Ominis needed his mere presence – not something from him – even when they just sat together next to the fireplace, listening to the quiet song of fire.

Following the sink-or-swim motto, Chris wasn't used to caring for someone. But now he was ready to give anything at all, only to see Ominis smiling, to make him happy. And every time Chris succeeded, he couldn't be happier himself. He almost forgot that itching desire to find an excuse to risk his life.

But when he was away, the old doubts began to haunt him. Why would someone so perfect as Ominis want to be around someone like Chris, whose life was just a mess? The guy without a past, broken present, and a future, whose arrival he was endangering.

The more time he spent away from Ominis, the louder the voice in his head pushed him to do something stupid until it finally got the better of him.

The incident with ashwinders only cost him one Wiggenweld potion.

But it was enough to bring back memories of Ominis beating some sense into him in the Undercroft.

No matter what, Ominis wanted him safe.

Chris had read that “I’d die for you” thing in some books. It didn’t make any sense to him because it didn’t sound like a big deal. He’d die for himself. But when he thought about Ominis’s words echoing around the Undercroft, he realised that for the moon-eyed boy he was ready to make a much more labour-consuming sacrifice.

He’d live for him.

So Chris had made sure the last incident had been really the last one.

Anyway, he had missed Ominis deeply, so seeing him today was a relief. But Merlin - the blond looked so tired.

“You didn’t sleep well recently”, Chris said quietly, slowly running his right thumb under Ominis’s left eye.

That voice, the voice Ominis loved and missed so much, sounded so gentle, so concerned, and so…close. The touch felt like an electric jolt. Ominis’s head was spinning, the heart pounding in his ears and racing so fast, forcing his breathing to quicken, but it was a trap because he inhaled more of Chris’s smell now, and that was the end of Ominis’s composure.

He reached out his hand and lowered it on Chris’s back of the head. Someone stop him! He ran his fingers through the short strands. That wasn't right! Clinging to the last echoes of reason, Ominis whispered, pulling Chris closer, “Aren’t you going to stand up? Someone might see us and jump to conclus –”

The door flung open, revealing one of their housemates, a boy with jet-black hair and chocolate eyes, holding a book.

“Hey Ominis, you – ” he broke off. The short pause was followed by a flow of frantic “Sorry!” and the sound of rapidly fading footsteps.

Chris jumped off the couch and glanced at the retreating intruder. That was an impressive running speed, he had to admit. Perhaps they scared the boy even more than he did them. “Like this?” he asked, amused.

“Precisely like this,” Ominis sounded bitter. The warmth, the smell, the weight – everything disappeared, leaving him with his heart beating wildly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers tightly.

Chris tilted his head, watching the blond. Was Ominis so upset because that boy misinterpreted what he saw? The brunet wouldn’t care about it, but Ominis looked frustrated, which was something to care about. Chris had to fix it.

”I…I will go and try to find him. Explain that it was a mistake,” he said, trying not to imagine what it would look like.

Hi buddy! It wasn’t what you think it was. I fell on him. What? No, I normally don’t fall on people like this, so yeah, you’re safe. Chris shook his head. Maybe he would need to come up with a lie that would sound more plausible than the truth. But it was the problem of the future Chris.

“Right,” Ominis simply brought out. Chris was about to leave but suddenly stopped.

“Imissdyu,” he blurted, turning to the couch but averting his minty eyes from the boy on it, even though Ominis couldn't see him.

”I beg your pardon?” Ominis was baffled. If he didn’t know any better, he just heard, “I missed you.” But, of course, he knew better. Phineas Black would sooner smile at students heartily than Chris Mongrel would speak about feelings.

"I…" It was Chris's turn to grow red even more intensively than Ominis a couple of minutes before. He knew the words were correct – he had read in books about people saying them to each other in similar circumstances, but Chris couldn't bring himself to repeat them.

"Please, don't make me say it again. You heard it right."

After a short pause, he added, suddenly interested in the stone pattern on the floor, "Can I read to you tonight? I mean, as usual." Then, he would ask why Ominis didn't sleep well.

"I hoped you'd ask this," the blind boy finally smiled. Then, he would ask what made Chris drink the Wiggenweld potion.

“See you later then,” beamed Chris, relieved. He finally looked at the moon-eyed boy and was about to head out when Ominis’s voice stopped him.

“Chris?”

“Mhm?”

“I missed you, too.” Only Ominis could smile like that – like the warm light of the lamppost sparkling on the snow. “Hear you later.”

“I…khm…yeah…Gotta go.” Chris made a few steps backwards toward the way out, still watching Omins, then turned around and crashed into a doorpost. “They… have to make the doors wider,” he said, leaving.

Ominis chuckled softly, listening to Chris’s fading footsteps. Then, a wave of panic washed over him again as he realised that mere minutes ago he could have ruined everything, succumbing to temptation. He rubbed his face with his palms, exhaling audibly. What was he thinking about?

But now, everything was right. And tonight he will sleep better. Thank Merlin, the point of no return had not been reached. Or should he say thanks to the student that had broken into their dorm?

Perhaps that guy will have another visitor today.

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

The song from the epigraph. I wrote Chris's part while listening to it.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #chris mongrel #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt x m!mc #ominis x mc #fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #omiris

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pikahlua · 2 months

Text

Fourteen Days of MHA: Day 7

First Impressions

I've had something of a day, so I couldn't come up with much for this one. But since the topic is first impressions, I kinda felt like this would be the best one to use some unfinished stuff of mine? Stuff that's likely never gonna BE finished. Basically this is an excerpt from one of my write-ups that is a reenactment of my first impressions of Katsuki Bakugou the first time I watched MHA.

[excerpt begins below the cut]

Season 1: Episodes 1-2

I hate shounen rival characters. No really.

I find them repetitive, reductive, and tropey as all hell. They don’t read like real people to me. They don’t make any sense to me. As far as I can tell, they just exist to be difficult, to represent some boiled-down theme of competition that must contradict the protagonist’s perspective for the sake of being a foil. It’s just a mechanism to provide challenges to the protagonist when the storyteller can’t find a way to come up with creative new challenges. They’re all basically the same character with the same personality with the same hangups with the same insecurities with the same “character development,” and if you’ve seen one you’ve seen ‘em all.

Enter Katsuki Bakugou.

This basic bitch.

On principle I hate him. I hate his stupid little smug face. I hate his voice. I hate his goals. I hate what he does and how he thinks.

Actually, hate is too strong a word. Because what I really hate is being subjected to the monotony of another predictable rival/lancer character. So here I am, praying for a sign that there will be some sort of break in this monotony. Please, MHA, prove me wrong.

Okay, not gonna lie, this shot did something to my heart.

Oh? Oh, is he actually insightful? Are we gonna resolve his arrogant shit this soon?

I’m in shock too, Izuku.

...oh.

Oh great. Total slow burn. [heavy sigh]

Heh. Points for the lampshade.

Wait, is this show self-aware?

Season 1: Episodes 3-4

Okay Katsuki clearly took something away from that experience because he is doing the whole anime-boy-staring-out-the-window-in-contemplation thing.

Whatever. Aloof rival alert. Except it’s not an alert because they’re all like that.

Whoa, that escalated quickly!

Oh. He’s just like that. Gotcha.

That’s...actually notable, since “that day” was sometime in April and now it’s February. Okay, something’s definitely up, but I’m just not sure which version of The Rival we’re dealing with here. And maybe if I cared, I’d try to figure it out. But I don’t care enough to stop watching and think about it, so, meh, I’ll let the show tell me when we get there. [/the most naive]

God, I relate too much to both sides of the interaction.

Um. “Friends?” Is that-? Are you implying-?

Are you just a grump?

Oh, okay, I see what’s been up. He’s totally aware of how awesome Izuku is, and he’s jealous or in denial. Understandable, since he wants to be the top hero. Sucks to be the rival, my dude.

Actually, wait, if he’s been aware of Izuku’s greatness since episode 1 or 2, he’s like one of the few characters in this world who seems to get it? Which is...kind of surprising for this early on?

Season 1: Episodes 5-7

Wait, what?

Are you telling me he’s actually hot shit? Fucking great. Ugh.

Oh, oh my god, the show IS self-aware! Oh okay I’m totally here for this shit!

Oh, it’s a CATCHPHRASE.

[end of excerpt]

You already know how it all ends lol.

#14DaysofMHA #Day 7 #katsuki bakugou #silly pika

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meowmeowriley · 8 months

Text

@forestshadow-wolf Had asked about Duo Fatui, and you know what? Fuck it! Have what will eventually be the opening to the fic ❤

Ghost and Soap are placed on desk duty for a year after an op gone sideways. They decide to make the best of it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Captain price roared as he stormed into the med bay.

Soap and Ghost were both laid up in separate cots, on either side of the room. Both now stared at him, wide eyed after his outburst.

"Sir," Ghost started but Price was not going to hear him out.

"No! Soap, what the hell were you thinking?!"

"Sir," Soap attempted to speak but Price cut him off as well.

"What the fuck were you thinking, giving a civilian your plate carrier?" Price seethed.

"Sir, he had important intel, we couldn't afford to lose him, and our route to exfil was taking heavy fire." Soap spit out his words quickly, probably to avoid being cut off again.

"Exactly sergeant, heavy fire that you took! You were shot, and you're a hell of a lot more important than some random scientist!" Price could feel his face getting red as he yelled. "And you!" He turned to face Ghost. "Now you're out of commission, because of his bloody fuck up!" He gestured sharply at a pouting Soap.

"We're the same blood type, I wasn't about to lose him over something I could easily help with, Captain." Ghost said flatly. To anyone else it would seem like Ghost was calm, detached even. Price could tell he was holding back his own anger.

Price found himself pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He wasn't actually angry at them. Soap had saved a man with insanely useful information. Ghost had saved Soap. He was angry that he hadn't been there to protect them himself. He was angry that he almost lost two of the best soldiers there ever were. Two of his men. He was angry that now they were both one kidney lighter. The transplant wouldn't take too long to heal, but the risk of rejection or infection meant he could still lose them. "One year." That garnered confused looks from both men.

"Um, no boss, the surgeon said-" Price cut Ghot off again, further souring the man's mood for sure.

"That the risk of rejection and infection will be significantly reduced after six months. I am placing you both on desk duty for one year, starting the day you get discharged from med bay." A horrified silence filled the room. "I hope you boys can find a way to keep yourselves entertained while Gaz, Roach and I pick up your slack." It may have ben a bit harsh, but he needed them to understand how important their lives were. To the world, to the team. To him. With that, he left the room.

***

"Ah'm sorry, Ghost."

"Shut it, Johnny."

"Ah am though."

"No." Ghost opened his eyes and leaned forward, looking at his hands. After Price had stormed in, ripped them a new one, and stormed out, he had leaned back in his bed and closed his eyes in an attempt to dissuade the rising rage. "If we're sorry, Price wins. That crabbit old man can kiss my arse. We did the right things."

"Hmmm... I have an idea." Ghost finally looked over to Soap again, urging him to continue with his eyes. "We're gonna be stuck on base for a whole year, aye?"

"Aye..." Ghost was unsure where this was going.

"We should do something unhinged, something incredibly stupid and pointless, every day. We'll have some random recruit record it, someone different every day if we can. At the end of the year, we'll play it on a projector in the mess for the whole base to watch." Soap was grinning at him. "Show Price what happens when you bench two of the craziest son's o' bitches in the SAS.'

It felt like a bad idea. Like making a deal with the devil. Like it would at least make the year of bullshit ahead of them go by faster. "I'm listening..."

#cod mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #fanfic #ao3 #text post #call of duty #unus annus #current wip

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snaileer · 2 years

Text

So what if, instead of like a tugging, a summoning is just like, an incessant ringing that the ghost hears until they answer. And that’s why every summoned Being comes through so fricking angry.

Angry Danny Summoned

Danny had been in the middle of about to take a nap when it’d started.

He’d finished his (meager) homework (with Jazz).

He had Skulker, Boxy AND Technus on Thermos time for another 2 days.

And his parents were visiting Vlad, in his Wisconsin mansion, making all three of them obsolete.

It was a good day to be Danny Fenton.

That was until the ringing started.

At first Danny ignored it.

Ghost equipment makes weird sounds. They have a UFO on their roof with satellites. His ghost senses sometimes dig a little deeper into sound waves than they should, it was fine.

Danny, now having stared at his ceiling awake for thirty minutes of his precious nap time, decided it was not fine.

The Ringing had to go.

Danny swept the house. The lab. The Op center. The entire street and then half the town.

Nothing. Not a single fluctuation in sound. That shouldn’t even be possible!

He had now wasted another hour of his, may he repeat, very precious! nap time.

Danny felt his eye twitch.

Thankfully, sticking his head in the ghost portal to scream gave him some momentary relief. Maybe his wail had canceled it out? Danny felt hope blossom.

That was until it started up again, this time just a little bit louder and if possible, high pitched and more annoying. The hope shriveled.

Danny screamed again, this time with even more anger in his wail.

But hey, if it got louder in the Zone at least that was a lead on where the hell it was coming from.

Danny transformed and shot off through the ectoplasmic sky.

Thankfully it seemed there was a little bit more sound direction to it in the zone, maybe because of the ectoplasm? Danny didn’t know. Danny didn’t care. Danny wanted it to stop.

A motorcycle revved up next to him.

“I don’t have the time or the patience for you right now Johnny,” Danny snarled, hoping the gaunt teen would just leave.

Johnny ignored him and kept pace, “Geeze, what’s got your undies in a bunch, your royal spookiness?”

Danny growled again, feeling his eyes glow and his teeth sharpen, the ringing had only gotten louder, “There’s this f*cking ringing and I can’t find where it’s coming from and I am this close to just sticking my head into the Pit of Darkness to get rid of it.”

“Yuck, sounds like you’re getting summoned.”

Danny froze in place, making Johnny pull a U turn to face him again, “I’m what.”

Johnny grimaced, “Yeah most ghosts gotta deal with it, not me or Kitty but I know the ancients do a lot and so does Desiree or Walker sometimes. You just gotta go to the Hall of Summonings and figure out where it’s from.”

Danny’s eye twitched again. Once. Twice. “And where is that?”

Johnny scratched his head, then leaned back to whisper to his shadow, “Shadow says it’s over by the Evermoaning Clump these days, bit of a drift since last I saw it but eh, whatcha gonna do?”

Danny didn’t bother saying thank you as he sped off, the same direction just a little to the left thankfully.

When Danny got there though he quickly lost any patience he had left.

Not only had the ringing gotten even louder, but the ‘Hall of Summonings’ while helpfully labeled, was just a door filled HALL!

It stretched on forever, as far as he could see and yes there were quite a few ghosts there, all looking thoroughly irritated and a few very-hang on were those demons? They never came this far upland.

Danny noticed, acknowledged and then promptly ignored all the other creatures present. All of them seemed to be doing the same thing, opening door after door until one glowed and they would jump through it with a vengeance he was planning to mirror.

Danny put on the speed as he tried every handle.

Nope. Nope. No. Not that one. Nope. Nuh uh. Not it. Nope nope no, no no, no, no.

Danny screamed again, letting his wail bleed through and rumble the entire hallway.

He felt the ring of rage appear and glow on his finger, his crown shimmer into place as his emotions fueled his core.

Nope. Nope no. No-

Yes!! At the eight-hundredth and sixty-fourth door, Danny felt his claws sharpen further and his eyes glow as he practically leapt through the now open portal.

Whoever had summoned him was going to ̶̡͛pay̴̩̚ for this.

He came through what looked like a pool of viscous black liquid, his form shedding it like water.

He was in some sort of temple, church, something with an altar and bloody spell circle on the floor.

Most importantly: the ringing was gone. Danny felt himself bask in relief, letting it vibrate his core and resonate-

What was that sound?

Oh tell him it’s not back, he thought coming here was supposed to get rid of it?!

No, wait- Danny looks down with fury in his eyes, spotting a cloaked figure below him(when did he get this tall?) It’s not the ringing, it’s someone talking, their voice is just annoying enough that after at least 3 hours of incessant ringing it sounds the same.

“We, the council, have summoned yo-“

Danny lunges and grabs the cloaked man by his throat, lifting him up easily.

“̶̡͛Yő̷̭ṳ̷̍ brought me here?” Danny growls, his voice echoing and hissing, so nicely at low tones and nothing like the high pitch ringing.

Huh, he should probably pull in his form before it goes too eldritch, no wait, he doesn’t care, he wants this infernal little jerk to be terrified.

By the way the man is still trying to blubber away at him, even with a stutter, maybe he’s not eldritch enough.

“S-Sire, we are but-but your hu-humble Serv-vants- we demand only-”

“You demand!!? You demand of me!? I̴ ̷a̵m̴ ̷t̸h̵e̴ ̵H̴i̶g̷h̴ ̸K̵i̴n̴g̴ ̶o̵f̵ ̵t̶h̴e̵ ̴I̵n̴f̸i̸n̶i̶t̸e̶ ̷R̶e̸a̷l̵m̶s̸,̵ ̴R̴u̵l̵e̶r̵ ̴o̶f̶ ̷T̵h̵e̶ ̴E̴t̷e̵r̵n̵i̷t̴y̸ ̷o̸f̸ ̸T̸h̸e̷ ̸D̷e̸a̸d̴,̴ ̶S̴l̴a̴y̸e̴r̵ ̴o̷f̶ ̷P̴a̶r̴i̶a̴h̷ ̵D̴a̷r̷k̶ ̷a̵n̵d̶ ̴t̴h̷e̵ ̷T̵r̷u̷e̷ ̶E̷q̶u̷a̵l̷ ̴b̷e̷t̸w̴e̴e̵n̵ ̸L̶i̴f̸e̶ ̵a̶n̷d̵ ̴D̴e̸a̸t̷h̴ ̴h̸i̷m̴s̶e̴l̶f̶!̸ You demand of me!? You summon me here, to your miserable little dimension, pester me with your presence alone, and then think yourself worthy to so much as beg below my dungeons much less speak or D̸̨̨̪̈́̐ẹ̸̺̈̋m̸̈͋ͅa̶̰̽̌ñ̴̢͈̘d̷̖̄̐ anything!?” ̶̰͊̊͝

The man’s face pales quite impressively now, and it makes Danny smirk.

“But-bu-but I-“

“B-b-b-b, I should squash you between my fingers you insolent, mortal, B̶̺̿̔͋̎̊͆͑̐͌̎̆̄Ư̸̛͚̮̆̑̓͊͒͋̾͋̕Ġ̷͙̠͙̳̍̊̈̈̽͗̉̽̓͜͠!”

Something smacked Danny’s face.

There was more people on the ground, some of them frozen, both in fear and in ghostly ice that he had not realized had encased the room.

Two of them were throwing fireballs at him.

Danny swatted down the levitating one, sending them flying into a wall with a smash, and fired an ectoblast at the other one in a Trenchcoat, then turned back to the cultist (cuz that’s definitely what they were) at, or rather in, hand.

“I do not care about your problems. Your tiny, insign̶̹͝i̴̥̿f̶͉͑i̷̭̕c̷̯̄a̴̜̎ṋ̸̍t̶̮̉ ̷̱̽p̶͖̅l̶͖̐a̶̹̍n̶̢͑e̵͖̽ ̴̨͝ŏ̵̰f̴̰̈́ ̵͔̐ě̵͇x̴͍͑ì̸͖s̴͔̀t̴̳̓e̴̖͊ṅ̷̡c̴̖̋e̵͈͛ ̴͓̑d̸͚̏o̵͓̊e̵̻͘s̴̗̒ ̴̪͝n̵̠̅ó̷͔t̵̮̊ ̴̫̓m̴̲̃a̸̫͂t̶͇̕t̶̛͔ȇ̵̞r̴̬̈ ̸̜̏t̶͕̊o̷͍͘ ̸̧͠m̸̜̍e̶̱͒,̴͔̃ ̸͙̓i̸̲̔f̴̞̀ ̵̺̎ỳ̴̭o̴͚̔ú̸̫ ̵̡̀s̶̮̈́u̵̱̐m̸͕̂ḿ̸͕o̷̬̓n̶̤̅ m̵̦̚e̴̱̓ ̴͓̌ä̸̠́g̴̱̈â̶̠ï̷̧n̴̼̉,̶͈͒ ̵̙̒I̴̤̓ ̴͔̌w̸̫͐ĭ̶̝l̴͕̐l̷̟̆ ̷͚̀d̴̹͊ò̸̰ ̵̩̎m̸̰̈ỏ̵̘r̶͕̉ë̸̯ ̶͚͊ť̸̲ḣ̴̪a̴̰̕n̶̤̅ ̴̺̌ḟ̸͔r̸͉̂o̸̰͑s̴͈͂t̴͓͒ ̶̡͛y̴̩̚ő̷̭ṳ̷̍,̴̟̒ ̵̟͠I̵͖̔ ̸͓̈́w̶͕͒i̶̪̐l̴͙̈l̷̳͊ ̷̜̏d̸̥͊ḛ̵̽s̷͎͂t̵͎̒r̸̮̒o̴̗̎ẏ̷̨ ̸̧̒e̷̳͗v̵̲́e̴̲͠r̶͕̈́ŷ̴͈t̶̨͆h̷̙̃ḯ̶̱n̷͖̚g̶͕̽ ̷̡̿y̷̳̅ȯ̷͓ủ̷̩’̵͔̈́v̴̝͊e̵̱͛ ̴̰̈́e̶̡͋v̷͕̔ë̵͜r̶̰͋ ̶̈́ͅh̵͔̓a̶͉̽d̴͚͊,̷̖̚ ̸̯̏ć̵̪u̴̱͘r̸͍̒s̴̡͒e̷̐ͅ ̷̮̐y̵̥͝o̶̝͘ǘ̴̦ ̷̯͠ṵ̶͑n̶̯͆t̸̖͂ö̸̤ ̶͕̊m̴̠̓y̸͕͐ ̵̞́r̴̞̄ḙ̸̇a̸̲̓l̵̮̓m̶̗̕,̷̙̆ ̴̘̈́d̸̾ͅe̷̩̍v̸̟͝ǫ̷̚u̴̻͗r̸͚̄ ̵̝̚y̵̹͑ò̸̻u̶̦͑r̷̻͌ ̷̙̀v̴͚͆e̵̦̎r̵̙͑y̸̺̽ ̸̼̑c̴̦̈́o̶̯̐r̴̪͘e̴̞͠ ̵̈́͜ḁ̶̕n̶̖̄ḍ̸̈ ̶̤͛l̴̯̈e̸̹̕a̴̧̅v̶̖̇e̵͚̊ ̴̯́t̷̠͑h̴̲̃e̷̳͘ ̴̗͑ć̵͇r̷͇͠ȗ̷͈m̴͍͘b̸̘̾s̶̻̄ ̸̼̚ỏ̶̰f̴̛̥ ̷̣͋ỹ̵̨o̵̻̅u̶̪͌r̶͕̾ ̷͔̈ḿ̷̫è̶̢a̴̮͆ṉ̸͋ȋ̵̲n̷̝͐g̷͇̍l̸̜͝e̴͍̒s̵̬͗s̵̘͝ ̸͓̿s̵̮̃ô̵̰ū̶͈l̴̩͗ ̸̝̆t̵̲̀ỏ̸͖ ̶̟̀b̸̘̚ẻ̷̱ ̷͈̑g̷̱̋r̶̹͘o̵͉̓u̶̗̕n̶̞͊d̴̛̜ ̴̨͐ṭ̸̽o̷̡̒ ̴̦̋d̷̯͒ṵ̷͊s̷̺̈́ṱ̶̊ ̸̹̃b̷͚͒e̵̠͌ẗ̴̞w̷̻̒e̵̅ͅé̸͖ǹ̸̬ ̸̤͛t̶͒ͅẖ̶͆e̸̬͒ ̸̡̈g̸͎̔e̴͓͘å̸̡r̶̞̚s̴̺̃ ̷̲͘o̴̡̓f̷̤̂ ̶̧͊C̴͇͂l̴̻̄o̵̟͠c̴̒ͅk̷̡̍w̷̻͘ơ̷͍r̶͎͝k̶͖͘ ̷̭͊h̵͇̐į̴̾m̴̰̈́s̸̲̃e̶͔͝l̷̲̋f̵͍̽!̸̱̌” Danny shouted, placing more echo and royal weight to the words and hopefully getting creative enough with his threat that they won’t try to summon him again.

“Do you understand me?” Danny growled menacingly.

The weeping cultist nodded stutteringly before fainting in his hand. Danny let go of him and turned, using his ring to rip a new portal back to Zone and then stepped through.

As soon as it closed behind him he felt the last echoes of the ringing die out.

Thank the ancients.

He had never realized how amazing silence was.

Now, Danny looked back and forth at the green sky of the zone with narrowed eyes, where in the Clockwork was he?

#danny phantom #Danny fenton #dp #batman #justice league #danny phantom ghost king #ghost king danny #danny phantom crossover #dp fic #Danny phantom summoning #danny phantom headcanon #dp headcanon

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lavenderterra · 2 months

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒

𝐁𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑

Content; Absolute floof and chaos

Usage of alcohol

Nothing suggestive

Pre established relationships

Xavier

You had been invited out by Tara for a night of drinking and karaoke after the last influx of Wanderers in the no hunt zone, you were three drinks in, and it was your turn to sing, it did not bother you when you had picked Supernova by Aespa. You were there to have fun anyways right? Though the last person you’d expect to run into on a night like tonight was Xavier. You seemed shocked and he seemed surprised, though he was half asleep (sleepy boy) he had taken a moment to look at you.

“Y/N?” He seemed confused as to why you were grabbing a microphone and why he heard the instrumental to a song he heard through your headphones before while you’ve come back from missions and can’t comprehend words to speak what so ever. [thisboywillliterallyusehisevoltoputonalightshowwhileyoursinging]

“I’m like some kind of supernova.”

You don’t realize he’s there until you notice his evol surrounds you in a pretty light show. Despite how drunk you are you still wander up to him to give him a big hug.

He ends up carrying you home. Good thing you’re neighbours right?

Zayne

Mans was not prepared to see how drunk you were especially when you had chosen to sing Super lady by G-Idle but you wanted to let the stress of your last mission go, and this is how you were going to let off the steam you needed to let off wether you could handle your alcohol or not. “Y/N is there any reason that you’re so inebriated?”

You wave him off before you start singing. “ I am a top Super Lady, I never lose yeah. (‘Cause got a super power) I am a god, super lady” Cue the second hand embarrassment from the doctor, part of him is intrigued though.

Secretly being the little shit he is, he’s filming you so you can witness your drunken shenanigans when you’re hungover. He definitely enjoyed watching you let loose. You are a hunter after all, of course in the end you walked up to Zayne regretting everything you’d had to drink. “Please take me home-“

“Sweetheart, you did this to yourself.”

“So mean.”

Rafayel

Girl you are not living this down, he’s going to embarrass the hell out of you the next day. You two had bumped into each other walking into the bar the same time. You were meeting up with Jenna and Tara and the rest of your hunter squad to celebrate your success on your latest discovery in terms of dealing with Wanderers.

“Y/N is this what you do when you’ve decided not to be my bodyguard” You let out a laugh before speaking slightly. “C’mon me having a little break after killing this last mission? Yeah I’m here to let loose.” You let out a soft smile and its a smile you know he can’t resist because he loves seeing you happy.

He puts his hand on your head before telling you to have fun. You nod before running off where the rounds of shots and soju begin. You’re a very giggly drunk so you’re always laughing.

“Hey Y/N I miiight have put your name in to sing next” Tara had drunkenly admitted which caused you to laugh again before getting up to grab a microphone

Sticky by Kiof had started playing.

Everything was a blur and you had started singing. “How long before we fall in love—“

Raf is already live streaming your drunken antics

Sober you is going to k*ll him.

Sylus

Leaning back in his seat seemingly amused its not often you see the leader of onychinus outside of the n109 zone let alone in the very karaoke bar you frequent. You almost act as if you don’t notice him and the twins watching you.

You feel his amber eyes on you while you’re with your friends but also you notice Mephisto watching you at a distance. You scoff slightly before taking another shot. You got up out of your seat, and made your way over to the white haired male.

“Juuuuust what do you want now?” You huff looking at him. “Sweetie, I’m not sure you’re rambling on about now. I’m just enjoying my night like you are.” You raise an eyebrow before hearing your name called up next to sing.

You turn on your heels before heading toward the stage grabbing a microphone. Were you extremely wasted? Yes. Did you give a damn? No.

Purple Kiss’ Pretty Psycho started playing.

“I’m a freaky Purky.” You spoke into the microphone before beginning the song.

Sylus was amused. Luke and Kieran were filming.

You weren’t living this down.

#love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus

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ladykailitha · 4 months

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Permanent Tagging List Take Two!

Hey, guys it's that lovely time again when I go through my permanent tag list and remove people that haven't interacted with my stories in awhile to clear the way for new people.

So here's the deal, you'll have one week to respond to this post. I will post it again every week so that hopefully if you don't see it the first time, maybe one of the others will.

NO JUDGMENT! I swear it. I just want to know if you're still interested so that if you're not, people who are can take your spot.

UNTIL THIS HAS COMPLETED ITS DURATION THERE WILL BE MORATORIUM ON ALL FUTURE REQUESTS TO BE ADDED TO MY PERMANENT TAG LIST!

I love all the requests I'm getting to be added to it. But I am at 44 on my permanent list and if it hits 50 then there is no way to add people to a story's tag list. Something I really don't want to do.

You can tell me if you want to be:

Removed from my permanent tag and all my stories

Removed from my permanent tag list but keep you on all my stories

Removed from my permanent tag list but only some of the stories (let me know which ones)

Stay on my permanent tag list but be removed from all my WIPs

Stay on my permanent tag list but be removed from some of my WIPs (let me know which ones)

Stay on my permanent tag list and all my WIPs.

My current WIPs so that you know what I'm currently working on:

Well Met By Moonlight: Steve is a werewolf, Eddie is a vampire and there are strange and horrible things going on in Hawkins. No Upside Down supernatural creatures AU.

Never Hold Back Your Step...: Boy With a Bat book 2. Sequel to Can Anybody See Me? Season 2 Au where Eddie picks up Steve as one of his lost sheep and him and Steve get together. Set immediately after book one, Steve has to get through high school and his new summer job. Only this is Hawkins and danger is always lurking around the corner. Featuring season 3 AU.

Icarus: Eddie makes it big with Corroded Coffin as Steve and Robin seemingly struggle with menial jobs. Only there is more than meets the eye with the up and coming metal band The Fallen as Eddie learns that the lead singer and Steve is one and the same. Now they have to manage three private lives with super stardom. The path to love never was smooth.

Sweet Home Indiana: Sweet Home Alabama fusion. Eddie and Steve get married when the first state makes gay marriage legal. But soon a rift forms between them and Eddie leaves. Now almost a decade later, Eddie's back in Hawkins looking for a divorce so he can marry his fiancee, Chrissy. But when he arrives, Hawkins starts feeling like home in a way he thought he lost long ago. Now he has to chose between his new life in Seattle and his old life in Hawkins. But not everything is as it seems and that makes things harder. For everyone.

Paper Hearts: Post Season 2 Valentine's day AU. Hawkins is doing a fund raiser for senior ball, people can buy paper hearts to give to their friends and lovers. Pink for friends and red for lovers. Steve doesn't have a girlfriend this year so he decides to get twenty pink hearts to give to girls that wouldn't normally get any. Cue Eddie finding that adorable and to do the same for Steve so he doesn't feel so lonely on Valentine's. They fall in love.

So here is the list of people that haven't liked, commented, or reblogged my stuff in about two months.

@danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @emly03

Some additional info!

I remove people who haven't interacted with any of my posts in more than 60 days. This is anything I post: chaptered fics, one-shots, and rants, whether or not they've been tagged.

What does interact mean? Comment, like, OR reblog. It doesn't have to be all three. Hell it doesn't even have go beyond a like. Though, really reblogs are the best because it means more people beyond the tag list can see it.

If you've done any of those things in less than sixty days, or have said that you're going through a rough patch and interaction will be down for awhile, you are still on the list.

I put up the option to be removed from certain stories because @maya-custodios-dionach said that they didn't like a couple of the stories (omegaverse and metal band Steve) and I thought oh, why don't ask people what they want to be tagged IN?

And in the last couple of days I've had about half of my tag list chiming in and tell me what they want. It's fantastic! Open communication for the win!!! It makes me giggle that no one has asked be from Boy With a Bat book 2, though. Literally everything else has.

Most of my regular permanent listers have made themselves known on what they want to be tagged on, but if you just like the post without commenting, I will take that as option 6 and move on. These people don't HAVE to comment or like, you'll stay on the list regardless.

But if you have stories you would much rather not be tagged in, I'd like to know, you know. ;)

@itsall-taken @spectrum-spectre @chaosgremlinmunson @i-must-potato @carlyv

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet

@disrespectedgoatman @tinyplanet95

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #permanent taglist #tag list

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elliesflower · 2 years

Text

i saw you in a dream [5]

summary; you attend ellie's open mic performance. and meet her...roommate.

chapter; 5/? 3.1k words

cw (per chapter); recreational marijuana usage, language

an; hi lol. i love u guys, thank you endlessly for dealing with my slow updating of this story. anyways, i think this may be my favorite chapter yet, please let me know what you think! i love a good cliffhanger ;) (as always, find it on ao3 here)

chapter 4 here

Friday came entirely too quickly—you breezed through your last final exam on Thursday, which left you way too much time to anxiously anticipate your upcoming…event.

“Date!” Dina exclaimed. “Ellie asked you to go because she likes you, it’s practically a date,” she singsonged, twirling a piece of hair around her finger childishly.

“Yes, because I’m sure we’ll have so much time to talk one-on-one and gaze longingly into each other’s eyes in between performances,” you replied sarcastically, continuing to rummage through your closet. “And, you don’t know that she likes me, maybe she just asked me because I was right there.”

“Okay, for someone so smart, sometimes you’re a little stupid,” Dina said, and you shot her the most evil side eye you could manage. “Ellie may or may not like you like that, but she likes you enough to invite you to something that sounds personal and important to her. This is your in! Now, you just have to get flirty.”

“‘Get flirty?’ Do you even know me at all?” You scoffed, turning to face her. “I am, like, the most awkward human being on the planet.”

“Okay, I take it back,” Dina laughed, standing up. “Let’s just focus on finding you an outfit.”

“What the hell do you even wear to an open-mic?” You complained, turning back to continue looking through your closet.

“You could wear something of mine, if you want,” she suggested.

“Uh, no thank you,” you smiled, pulling out a plain black mock-neck from the depths of your closet, turning around and holding it up to your chest.

“Hey!” Dina gasped. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“No offense, but I don’t really think…whatever look you have going on is the one for me.” It’s not that you didn’t like the way Dina dressed, rather, you really did like it—but expressing yourself through clothing had always been hard for you, sticking to more muted tones, blacks and greys. Dina’s wardrobe was loud and colorful, she always looked so put together, and she never seemed to wear the same thing twice. You admired it, really, but still found yourself gravitating towards more basic clothing.

“Whoever said saying ‘no offense’ actually makes a statement any less offensive needs their ass beat, to be honest,” she replied casually, and you could hear her sorting through hangers in her own closet. “Just try this, at least. It would look nice with that shirt, I promise!” She was shoving a colorful chunky-knit cardigan into your hands before you could protest, and you grimaced.

“I don’t know Dee,” you held up the sweater, contemplating. “I never wear stuff like this.”

“Just put the damn sweater on and let’s go!” She smiled at you. “Don’t you want good seats?”

You rolled your eyes, but went to look in the mirror nonetheless. “As if there’ll be a fight for front row seats at a college open-mic.”

“Oh perfect,” she sighed exaggeratedly before rummaging in her desk drawer. “Then you agree, you have time to split this with me before we leave?” She held up a small, white tube, and you pursed your lips.

“Okay, fine,” you gave in, quickly pulling your shirt off over your head before pulling on the black long-sleeve.

“Just one hit.”

—

You did not, in fact, take just one hit. It was more like four. Or five…or six, or who could keep track, really?

It seemed like a good idea, a little something to take the edge off, maybe soothe the bundle of nerves that had formed in your stomach and in your brain and in your chest at the thought alone of seeing Ellie—god forbid, having to make conversation with her.

And while it did help a little, you hadn’t smoked as much as Dina, so it still felt as though your heartbeat grew louder with each step toward the theater. All that stood between you and Ellie—and, well, a handful of other attendees and performers—was a short corridor.

“It’ll be okay, just chill out,” Dina tried to subdue you, and her voice was thickened by her intoxication, slower and almost more serious. Her eyes were low as she smiled over at you, bumping into your shoulder softly.

“Thank you, Dina, because telling someone to chill out always works so well,” you quipped, shaking your head as she led you through the doors. Though, you did try to chill out, as it were, taking a deep breath and sliding the sleeves of the oversized cardigan up your forearms, nervously tugging at the neck of your long sleeve, fidgeting with anything you could think of to distract you from—

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you ran directly into a body around the corner, staggering backwards slightly before someone was gripping your arms, keeping you steady. Your eyes trailed up the body before you were met with—oh god, “Ellie!”

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she laughed melodically, smoothing her hands down your biceps before flashing her teeth at you. The chatter of the other attendees faded into the background as you felt your body heat up under her stare, painfully aware of her hands that were still on your arms.

You could do nothing but let out an awkward laugh in response, nodding your head as she took her hands away. Dina cleared her throat obnoxiously from behind you and you turned your head to give her a look that you hoped conveyed: please for the love of god save me.

“Hi, I’m Dina by the way, or you probably know me as ‘the roommate,’” she said, sticking out her hand past you for Ellie to shake, and you had to admire her confidence for a second, the way she could unapologetically be herself in any situation. You’d think that from spending so much time with her, some of that confidence would have rubbed off on you, but no, you were still just…you.

“Nice to meet you, Dina,” Ellie smiled, and her voice was laced with honey, rich and slow spilling from her lips. She reached her hand past you to shake Dina’s, and you moved out of the way slightly.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Dina dropped her hand and stood next to you now. You looked over at her in shock, and you hoped the shaking of your head and wide eyes weren’t noticeable.

“Uh, not so much,” you laughed nervously, trying to subtly kick Dina’s ankle.

“Wow, you really do have that guitar player look to you,” she ignored you, gesturing to Ellie. “I love the tattoo!”

Your eyes were daggers glaring into the side of Dina’s head, but neither her or Ellie seemed to notice—though it was debatable whether that was good or bad. Ellie chuckled, instinctively looking down at her arm and holding it out as if to show it off. You felt like sinking into the floor, watching her arm flex as she rotated it, skimming her fingers down the length of her forearm, tracing the pattern.

“Thank you,” she was slightly bashful, despite her eagerness to show off. She caught your eye for a moment and—were her cheeks turning red? It is pretty warm in here with all these bodies…yeah, that’s it.

“Well, anyways, nice to finally meet you Ellie, I’m gonna go grab a snack,” Dina smiled politely between both you and Ellie, before patting your shoulder and slipping away. Oh god, why would she leave you to talk to her alone?

“I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, and suddenly everything was fading away again. You took a moment to look down at her outfit, trying to be as discreet as possible. She adorned a light blue flannel, cuffed just above her elbows and a pair of dark Levi’s—her hair was pulled back, save for a few pieces that fell loosely around her face, which you noticed she tucked hastily behind her ear when a strand tickled her nose before she said, “I love that sweater, by the way.”

Dina was going to have a field day with that one.

“Oh, thank you!” You exclaimed, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. She smiled at you before continuing.

“Anyways, I’m up last, so don’t feel like you have to stay for the whole thing, if you get bored or anything,” she explained, pointing at the stage behind her. “I’m just glad you could make it.”

On the inside, you were swooning, your eyes were in the shape of hearts and you wanted to reach out and embrace her—you wanted to smell that warm vanilla musk and the earthy savor of weed, you wanted to tell her you wanted nothing more than to spend all your time with her, know her inside and out, you wanted it all.

“No, no, I came here for you,” you said instead, making fists around the material of your sweater and smiling at her. “Of course I’ll stay.”

Ellie’s face flushed again, and you continued to insist it was due to the heat of the room. She glanced behind her, and you followed her gaze to see Dina filling up a plate with what looked like one of everything from the table.

“I should go get ready,” Ellie mumbled before turning back to you. “Why don’t you go grab some snacks with Dina and I’ll catch you after the show?” She sounded hopeful. You nearly choked.

“Yes, I’ll be here!” Of course you’ll be here, where the hell else would you be? You mentally face-palmed yourself before she was giving you a smile and disappearing into the crowd. You took a deep breath and made your way to the snack table, where Dina was still loading up.

“Oh, hey!” She said when she finally saw you.

“Hey, thanks so much for embarrassing the hell out of me,” you complained, stealing a cheese square off of her plate.

“Embarrassing you? Please, I was helping you,” she laughed before stuffing a grape into her mouth. “And it kinda worked, didn’t it? I set you up for a nice little chat with your girlfriend.”

“Oh, shut up,” you bumped her shoulder, but you couldn’t fight the warmth that climbed up the back of your neck. “Let’s go grab a seat.”

The acts that preceded Ellie were actually entertaining—a few songs, a poem or two, and a stand-up act that wasn’t…terrible. Not to say it was good but…you know.

And then the host, who you assumed was Ellie’s roommate, was waltzing back on to the stage as the audience applauded, her short black hair reflecting almost blue in the spotlight. She was eclectic, all mismatched patterns and silver jewelry that hung from her neck and her wrists and her ears. She was funny and vibrant, commanding the attention of everyone in the room every time she stepped onto the stage to introduce the next act.

“Alright folks, please give a warm welcome to my best friend, the one and only, Ellie Williams!” She tucked her microphone under her arm before clapping, moving out of the way of the small stool that was behind her. Best friend? Ellie had only said she was her roommate.

But it didn’t matter, because Ellie was walking on to the stage with her guitar in hand, smiling nervously at the crowd. You clapped as loud as you could, trying to reposition your body so that you could see her slightly better over the heads in front of you, though you doubted she could see you from your seat somewhere in the middle row.

“Uh, good evening, everyone,” Ellie started, positioning herself on the stool and pulling the microphone down to her level. “I’m gonna sing a little song for you guys, if that’s cool.” There was a bit of scattered applause and Dina whooped loudly from beside you. You smacked her with the back of your hand.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, partly from the excitement at getting to see Ellie perform, and partly from your second-hand stage fright. Even though you weren’t the one performing, you always seemed to absorb the nerves of the performer, just waiting for them to make a mistake, even if you didn’t want them to. You especially wanted this to go well for Ellie, and you bounced your leg nervously as she positioned her guitar in her lap.

She strummed the first few chords and you nearly had a heart attack.

C, A-minor, F-major. You could probably play those in your sleep, now.

“Holy shit,” Dina whispered from beside you, and of course, she knew too, from the hours and hours you spent listening to the song, practicing the song, getting taught the song.

“Did I drive you away?

I know what you'll say

You say, ‘Oh, sing one we know,’

“Dina,” you whispered back, leaning into her, but not being able to peel your eyes away from Ellie. “Is that…?” But you already knew the answer.

“Dude. She’s so. Into you.”

“But I promise you this

I'll always look out for you

Yeah, that's what I'll do,

You couldn’t help the smile that slowly spread across your face as you leaned back up, watching Ellie lose herself in the song. Suddenly, you were back in her room, the air thick and heavy, watching her sing softly and strum along when she thought you weren’t watching—that little crease between her eyebrows and the dreamy look in her eyes as she sang with the voice of a thousand angels.

Maybe you had a hard time believing Ellie was into you, but she picked this song knowing you would be here. There was no denying that.

“La, la, la, la, o-oh

La, la, la, la, o-oh,

The song ended entirely too soon, and she was smiling, standing up and adjusting the microphone back into a higher position. Applause was erupting from every side of you and you clapped as though you were the only person in the room, as if she could see the intensity in which you showed your recognition and your appreciation and your utter giddiness.

The host was waltzing on stage again before you knew it, and gave Ellie a hug. You ignored the jealous twinge in your heart, for god’s sake you had literally hung out one time, and the applause continued as she thanked everyone for coming, wrapping her arm around Ellie’s waist and requesting one last round of applause for all the performers. You continued clapping, watching Ellie raise her guitar in the air like a glass of champagne for a toast, before the host whispered something in her ear that made her smile. You again ignored the skip of your heart, instead focusing on Dina’s hand gripping your arm.

“Oh my god, you have to go say something to her, ask her out, something! The suspense is literally killing me,” she whined, pulling you along as the lights slowly turned back on and people shimmied out of the aisles.

“I can’t just ask her out, it’s not that easy for me,” you replied.. You wished it was easy for you, you wished you could be more like Dina, just walk right up to her and say: I think I really like you, and we should go out sometime. But your anxiety paralyzed you, rendered you completely helpless when it came to love and lust.

“I swear dude, if I have to sit through any more of your pining and love songs I might request a roommate swap,” Dina said, leading you back to the snack table. “She likes you. And if you can’t see that at this point I don’t know what else to say.” You pouted a bit, like a petulant child, crossing your arms over your chest and surveying the room. Before you could even formulate a response, Ellie was emerging from a group of people who had gathered opposite the table. You quickly uncrossed your arms as she caught your eye and made her way toward you.

“Oh look, who would have guessed,” Dina muttered, popping a grape into her mouth. She smiled exaggeratedly at Ellie before grabbing a handful of crackers. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk,” and you wished so badly you could flip her off without it being obvious.

“Hey,” Ellie said quietly, and her voice was almost timid--a laughable comparison to barely five minutes ago when she had the entire audience wrapped around her finger.

“Ellie,” you breathed, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “Your song choice was…inspired,” you said, wrapping an arm across your body. She looked down at her feet, and you wondered if her cheeks would be rosy when she looked back up.

“Oh, yeah,” she looked up at you now, and you were right. Except, it wasn’t actually that warm in here. “Well, it’s a good song, you know.” Her hand went to the back of her neck, just like it had before, and you wanted to pull it away, to intertwine your fingers and just tell her, just tell her you want to go out, somewhere where she doesn’t have to teach you to play guitar and you can just talk, and mentally map the freckles that littered her face and learn about how she got that scar in her eyebrow and find out if she’d rather go to a tea house or a coffee shop and fuck, you had to ask her, now, before you lost the courage and your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up,

“Ellie, I was wondering if--”

“There you are, superstar!” A voice suddenly came from behind her, and you recognized it immediately. The host--or I guess, Ellie’s roommate--oops, wrong again, Ellie’s best friend, was appearing behind her, grabbing onto her shoulder and looking at her with admiration. Ellie seemed surprised to see her, somehow, as she turned to face her, plastering on a smile that looked…forced.

“Oh, hey,” she replied, before the raven-haired girl was pulling her into a hug. You stood awkwardly as they embraced, looking down at the ground in an attempt to seem casual. Oh god, you couldn’t believe you were actually about to ask Ellie out on a date.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” the girl said abruptly, pulling back as if she’d just noticed your presence. She left an arm around Ellie’s waist, and you noticed the way Ellie suddenly appeared tense. Like, in a bad way.

You offered the girl a small smile and stuck your hand out politely, giving her your name. She took it and shook firmly, her small hand deceivingly strong. Her eyes were painted with thick, black eyeliner, and they raked up and down your body. You felt like shrinking away under her intimidating stare, averting your eyes after a moment.

“Uh, this is Cat, my roommate,” Ellie said after an awkward pause, giving you a sheepish look.

“And best friend,” she chimed, pulling her hand away. She leaned into Ellie’s side, resting her head on Ellie’s shoulder and using her free hand to pat her chest.

“Ellie and I go way back.”

chapter 6 here

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams imagine #the last of us #dina tlou #tlou

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Let Me Know

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

For Week 7 of @buckybarnesevents's Hot Bucky Summer: Who's This?

Warnings: 18+, language, light angst, mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Roommates to lovers?? Don't mind if I do! 😂 It was so fun to write for Bucky again! I haven't written much for him as I've been doing other events for other fandoms, but trust he is still bouncing around my head always haha. This got away from me in the best way. Hope you enjoy!

MCU Taglist: @artemiseamoon @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You hadn’t heard from Bucky since he left for his last mission. That wasn’t something that was necessarily unusual—it wasn’t uncommon for him to drop off the radar for a couple weeks at a clip. You’d known that was part of the deal for a long time, long before the two of you had started whatever relationship it was that you had now.

At first you two were just roommates. Hell, you didn’t even want to refer to the two of you as friends for a while at the start. It wasn’t that you disliked each other, but Bucky didn’t seem like he was really the type who was keen on making friends. He was civil with you, cordial, but it wasn’t as though the two of you spent a lot of quality time together. He spent most of his time in his room unless he was showering or cooking. The times when he was home alone you’d come back to the apartment to find him in the living room, but once it was the two of you again, he’d soon retreat back to his own space. You mentioned to him on more than one occasion that the living room was considered a common area for a reason—it wasn’t as though only one of you could be there at a time, but he always found a way to brush the comment off.

It wasn’t until he came home in the middle of the night from a mission while you were in the kitchen making yourself a midnight snack that the two of you had any interaction of real substance. You heard the apartment door open and you were automatically on-edge. Bucky was known to come and go at all hours, and while no one had ever tried to break into your place, you knew that there was always a first time for everything.

So, you grabbed a knife from the knife block and slowly crept towards the door. You heard someone let out a soft grunt, followed by heavy booted footsteps on the floor. Your grip around the knife handle tightened as you held your breath. Reaching around the corner, you quickly turned on the lights and stepped around the corner, effectively not only scaring the shit out of Bucky, but also yourself. You were a lot of things, but one thing you were not was someone who thrived in fight or flight situations.

“Jesus,” Bucky said, bracing himself against the arm of the couch, recovering once he realized it was you. He made a small gesture to the knife in your hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

You huffed, heart still pounding inside your chest as you let your arm drop carefully back to your side. “What the hell are you doing?” you shot back.

His brows knit, confused, like the answer was perfectly, obvious. To his credit, it was. “Trying to come home?”

“It’s almost 2AM. Why didn’t you just stay—”

“I wanted to be in my own bed,” he cut you off. He shook his head at you. “Why am I getting interrogated for wanting to be in my own apartment?” He paused. “Why are you awake at 2AM?”

You pointed back towards the kitchen with the knife, which would’ve been more amusing if either of you were less frustrated or less exhausted. “Wanted a snack.”

He huffed out a laugh, one that almost sounded a little bit amused. “Right.”

“Want some?” you offered, like an olive branch. “Quesadillas.”

“At 2AM?”

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to have any of it. Just thought—”

“I’m good,” he cut you off, “but thanks.” He watched as you nodded, both of you still just standing there, occupying the same space because neither knew what move to make next. “Goodnight,” he finally said, prying his hand off the couch so he could slowly keep making his way towards his room.

You stepped to the side, letting him pass. You couldn’t help but notice that he was moving slower than usual, not quite limping but definitely stiff. “Do you need—”

“I’m good.”

You sighed, letting your head drop back so you were staring up at the ceiling. Someday the two of you would get through a conversation where he actually let you finish your sentences. Once he shut his bedroom door behind him, you shut off the lights in the living room again, retreating back to the kitchen to put the knife away and finish making your snack.

You were just putting the dishes in the sink, thinking you’d rather do them tomorrow than right in that moment. Right when you reached to turn the kitchen light off, you heard footsteps again. Lighter this time, but still slow. You stopped and waited.

Bucky came all but hobbling into the kitchen. He made a beeline for the refrigerator, opening the freezer side and pulling out a frozen water bottle. Immediately he brought it down to his leg, rolling it against his thigh over the lounge pants he’d changed into.

You frowned slightly at the sight. “Anything I can do?”

He shook his head, eyes still fixed on his leg. “No.”

You nodded, not looking to push things with him, especially not at the given hour. “Okay. Well…you know where to find me if…” you trailed off, not really sure how you wanted to end the sentence. Really, you didn’t know what you could offer him that he wouldn’t be able to do for himself. It felt wrong to not put the offer out there, though.

He nodded, still not looking at you. “Thanks.”

You turned and were going to start heading back to your room. Just as you were going to round the corner into the short hall that separated your rooms from the rest of the apartment, you looked back over your shoulder to see Bucky peering into the fridge again, this time looking for something to eat rather than just an ice pack.

With his back to you, you could see a stripe going down his shirt, just beside his left shoulder, where he was bleeding through. You frowned, considering for a moment if you should say something or not. He’d never been one for unsolicited commentary.

“Bucky?” you said, leaning against the wall.

“Yea?” he responded, still digging around the fridge for something that required no effort to eat.

“I, uh, I think…I think you’re bleeding?” You watched as he finally looked at you, glancing back over his shoulder like he was trying to figure out if you were being honest or not, not that you’d lie about something like that but he still didn’t trust anyone off the rip. You made a vague gesture to the area where the blood was, not that you were really close enough for it to matter. “Your shoulder.”

Recognition washed over his face, quickly followed by annoyance. “Shit.”

“I’ve got bandages,” you nodded towards the bathroom. “If you want, I can…I mean just so you don’t bleed everywhere.”

The apprehension was clear as day on his face, but he knew you were being practical. Plus, he really didn’t feel like having to get new shirts and sheets if he didn’t have to. He sighed, finally giving in with a nod. He shut the fridge door, opening the freezer and tossing the water bottle back into it with a little more force than necessary before shutting that door too.

When you came back to the kitchen, you found him sitting at the counter. His back was to you, his shirt clutched tightly in his metal hand as he braced himself on the edge of the counter. You didn’t say anything as you set the box of bandages down next to him, taking a couple out so that you could try to completely cover the cut that was running along his back.

It was the first time you’d ever seen him without his shirt on. He was always at least in a tank top when he came out of his room, always made sure he dressed before stepping out of the bathroom after his showers. Until now you’d thought it was just a courtesy thing, the same way he never really stayed in the living room or kitchen with you for too long. But as you looked at his back, seeing the scars and the bruises, you had a whole new understanding of it all.

“Is it bad?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You shook your head, and it took a moment for you to remember that he couldn’t see you. “Not too bad. You won’t, uh, you shouldn’t need stitches. Bandages for a couple days should be find until it scabs over a bit.” You paused, delicately placing the first bandage on the upper half of the cut. “This is gonna sound stupid,” you started with a laugh.

You heard the sharp exhale he let out through his nose, the closest thing to a laugh you’d heard from him in a long time. “Good. Love that.”

You laughed a little harder, heat flaring up in your face. “I just, I don’t know, I guess I didn’t realize that you could…I just thought that since you’ve got that super soldier thing…”

“I’m not invincible,” he said, his tone sarcastic but not nearly as mean as it could’ve been. “Takes more to do damage. Heal quicker. But I’m not…yea.”

“Hmm,” you hummed in acknowledgment as you applied the second bandage.

“What?”

“No, nothing, I just, I didn’t know. Feels weird to ask.” You chuckled nervously. “God forbid it sounds like a weird threat.”

He glanced over his shoulder at you, looking exhausted but also a little amused. “Didn’t want to ask what it would take to kill me?”

“That’s not what I said,” nervous laughter spilled out of you, your entire face and neck feeling like they were on fire. Stepping away, you threw the little slips of paper from the bandages into the trash, finally looking Bucky in the eye again once you did. “You should be all set. Honestly, if you really do heal quicker, you’ll probably only need those on for the next day or so.”

“Thank you,” he told you as he got up off the stool at the counter.

You nodded, offering up a quiet, “You’re welcome,” as he went back to the fridge again, t-shirt still clutched in his hand. You chuckled softly. “There’s enough to make another quesadilla if you want.”

Things had started to change between the two of you after that. It was slow, gradual, but you noticed it. You never went out of your way to bring up what had happened that night, because really it wasn’t that big of a deal—it wasn’t like you’d had to reattach a limb for him. It was just a couple band-aids. But it was enough to tip the scales just slightly. It started off with small things. When Bucky would cook while you were home, he made enough for both of you. Depending on what you were watching, he’d accept the invite to sit in the living room with you to see whatever show or movie you had on.

Over time, your conversations stopped being quite as one-sided. You didn’t think that Bucky was ever a chatterbox even on his best day, but it did eventually get to the point where he was giving you answers that were more than two or three words at a clip. He’d ask you questions instead of just you asking him things. Not only that, but it seemed like he was actually listening to the answers.

After that first night in the kitchen when you’d been ready to stab Bucky with a kitchen knife, he promised that he’d make sure to text you whenever he got back after a mission, giving you an ETA so you wouldn’t freak out again. It was a small but appreciated gesture. No matter the hour, you were pretty much always up, and always cooking or eating something when he got home. In the back of Bucky’s mind he knew that you did it on purpose, one gesture in return for another, but he didn’t allow himself to process the full weight of it, the real comfort that he could get from it. Too afraid to acknowledge it out loud in fear that it was going to get taken from him.

Then one night after he got home from a mission, walking into the apartment at an hour that was too late to be nighttime but too early still to be morning, he found you standing at the stove in the kitchen. He lingered in the doorway, every muscle in his body feeling exceptionally heavy after how things had played out in the field. As much as part of him had wanted to come straight home and collapse into bed, another part of him was looking forward to the exact sight that was in front of him now.

“It’s nothing fancy,” you said with a laugh as you turned around, one plate in each hand, “but—” You stopped short when you looked up and saw the state that bucky was in. “Holy shit.”

His eyebrows lifted just slightly at your reaction. He knew why you’d reacted that way, but he was too tired to get into it all. You set the plates down on the counter with a light clatter before quickly making your way to the other side of the counter to him. His face was littered with bruises, a small cut through his eyebrow and a few others on his cheek. Nothing that required a doctor’s visit, but you knew that if his face was this bruised, the rest of him was too.

“What happened?” you asked, reaching out to touch his face before you could think better of it.

He flinched slightly at your touch, and it was only then that you realized what you were doing. Bucky saw the panic flash across your face and he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t get it out. It’d been a long time since someone had been gentle like that with him.

“Long story,” he finally said with a shake of his head.

You nodded, trying to be understanding while also knowing there was no way you could try to wrap your head around the situation. “Right.”

Bucky saw the way that your eyes would drift from his to the bruises, worry in your expression as you tried not to stare. It was the most visibly beat up he’d been in a while upon getting home from a mission. Reaching out, Bucky rested his right hand against your shoulder, his grip gentle, warm even through the fabric of your t-shirt. You were extremely aware of the fact that it was the first time Bucky had ever touched you like that, given a passive form of affection.

“It looks bad,” he conceded with a weary chuckle, “but I’m alright.”

The ends of your mouth turned up just slightly as you nodded. “Okay.”

When he came back to the kitchen after changing and dropping off his things, he found you sitting at the counter patiently waiting for him. He plopped down heavily in the seat next to you, neither of you saying much for the moment as you ate what was essentially going to be an extremely early breakfast.

You grabbed both your plates when you’d finished, bringing them to the sink. Checking the time on the stove, you sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fall back to sleep at that point. The best you were going to be able to hope for was going to bed extremely early the next night to make up for the lost time.

“I’m gonna make coffee,” you said over your shoulder as you grabbed a mug for yourself. “You want some? I know you’re probably just gonna pass out.”

Bucky stared at you, watching you going through the motions of something so simple, something he had definitely seen you do plenty of times before. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take one. I slept on the plane back,” he lied, desperately wanting to sleep but now tempted to try and stay awake with you at least for a little while. “Won’t be able to pass out for a bit.”

He listened to your hum of acknowledgment as you reached up to grab a second mug for him. He sat for a moment, trying to piece apart all the different thoughts and feelings racing through his mind. It was impossible for him to look at anything but you as you leaned forward, bracing your hands on the edge of the counter to keep yourself upright while you waited for the coffee to brew.

Getting up off the stool, Bucky walked over to you. Your mind was miles away, and you didn’t hear him walk up behind you. It wasn’t until he tapped your shoulder that you snapped to attention. You flinched, spinning around since he caught you off-guard. You nearly smacked into him, not expecting him to be standing so close to you. He always managed to leave a buffer between the two of you.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice unsteady when you didn’t mean for it to be.

He nodded. “I’m good.” He paused, racking his brain for the right words. “Thank you,” was all he managed to come up with, but it was better than nothing.

You laughed, a little breathless from the fact that he was still standing so close to you. “It’s nothing.”

Neither of you moved, or spoke, you hardly even breathed in the next few seconds that passed. Bucky didn’t take his eyes off yours and it had you feeling like you were about to melt into the floor. Taking a deep breath and a leap of faith, you reached up towards his face again, your fingertips gingerly touching his cheek. He didn’t pull away, determined not to make the same mistake twice. A smile involuntarily spread across your face at the acceptance of your touch, your hand shifting just slightly so that you could better cup his cheek, your thumb lightly grazing his cheekbone. Your touch ghosted over the bruises blooming over his skin.

You were about to ask him if he was sure that he was alright when he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was a split second, over just as soon as it started as he pulled away, trying to gauge just how big of a mistake he’d just made. His eyes searched yours, heart pounding in his chest. You beamed at him for a moment before bringing his lips back to yours, kissing him with purpose, feeling the way that he was instantly trying to meld himself into you.

As the days and weeks ticked by after that, it was as though the two of you started to forget that your apartment had two bedrooms. Most of the time Bucky stayed with you in yours, but every now and then you’d find yourself tucked safely under Bucky’s comforter and in his arms in his room too. There was never a conversation about it, and in the back of your mind you knew that maybe there should’ve been. But it was working so well, the last thing you wanted to do was complicate it, potentially ruining something that was so precariously created between you.

And now here you were, pacing the expanse of your apartment’s living room, waiting for some sort of confirmation from Bucky that he was back home and in one piece. You were used to him going silent, but you usually heard from him before anything about his work hit the news. The fact that the television going in the background had running coverage saying that there had been another successful mission, saying there were more details to come even though there never were, had you on-edge when your phone refused to chime with a message from Bucky.

You spent a few more minutes waiting, pacing, before finally deciding that fuck it, you might as well show up and hope for the best. So you grabbed your keys and took off out of the apartment, making sure that you locked it up on the way out.

You found yourself standing in the lobby of the building, helpless to do anything but stare and gawk at everything around you. You’d never been to their base in Brooklyn—never had a reason to when Bucky lived with you. You didn’t even know where to start.

Luckily, you didn’t have to stand there overwhelmed on your own for too long. You turned your head towards the sound of someone clearing their throat. You knew who he was, because Sam Wilson’s face was everywhere these days, but he had no idea who you were. You would’ve assumed that even if he didn’t have a mildly confused look on his face.

“Something I can help you with?” his tone was cautious.

Clearing your throat, you nodded. “Yea. God, I’m, I’m sorry. I know I probably shouldn’t just,” you fumbled, trying to get your sentences together, “I just, shit. I’m looking for Bucky?”

The confusion on his face intensified. “Bucky?”

“Yea, I’m—”

Whatever the conversation was about to be between you was cut short by the sound of Bucky saying your name. He sounded just as confused as Sam had, only Bucky had a thick layer of annoyance layered on top of the confusion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, brows knit tightly.

“I just got worried when I saw the news but I didn’t hear anything from you. I thought you—”

“You can’t just come down here,” he cut you off, and for a moment your mind flashed back to how the two of you were months and months ago now. It stung more than you’d bargained for.

“I waited but then I got worried, alright? That’s not, you know, that’s not ridiculous of me. You always tell me when you get back.”

“Sorry,” Sam was looking back and forth between the two of you before his gaze finally landed on Bucky, “but who’s this?”

You both answered simultaneously, but the problem was your answers weren’t the same.

“His girlfriend.”

“My roommate.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up as he looked back and forth between you. You felt like someone had let all the air out of your lungs, like you were about to deflate and crumple right onto the tiles beneath your feet. Bucky’s annoyance faded only slightly when he registered the words you’d said, but he was still too off-kilter and confused about the entire thing to say or do anything.

“Right,” Sam said, clearly a little uncomfortable. He turned to you. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I’ll leave you two to…this.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the sting of tears in your eyes, the smoldering anger you could feel in the pit of your chest. You made sure not to take it out on Sam. “I’ll leave. I’m sure you have important things to take care of. It was really nice meeting you, Sam.” You turned your head to look at Bucky. “Guess I’ll see you at home, roomie.”

Bucky only got half your name out before you turned on your heel and started to take off for the door. He sighed, chin dropping to his chest. Finally picking his head back up, he looked over at Sam, who was just shaking his head at him.

“What?” Bucky snapped.

“You messed up,” Sam said with a laugh, clearly not feeling any pity for the man standing with him.

“Helpful. Thanks.”

Sam shook his head. “She was just worried about you, man.”

Bucky sighed, not wanting to get into all of it. Nodding towards the elevator he said, “Can we just wrap this up?”

Sam chuckled, getting more amusement out of Bucky’s situation than he should’ve. The damage done wasn’t irreparable, which was the only reason he found any humor in it. “Sure.”

When Bucky got back to the apartment later that night, he opened the door to find all of the lights off. He let out a deep sigh as he stepped inside. He dropped his bags just inside the door, untying his boots and leaving them there as well. He maneuvered through the apartment in the dark until he landed himself outside your bedroom door. He saw the thin strip of light coming out from underneath it, so he knew that you were home and most likely still awake.

Taking a deep breath, he gave your door a couple light knocks as he said your name. When he didn’t get a response, he rested his forehead against the wood paneling of the door. “Please let me in.”

After a few long seconds of silence, you said, “It’s open.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief as he turned the doorknob and let himself in. Once he stepped inside, he shut the door behind him again, like it was an extra layer of privacy in your already empty apartment. He leaned back against the door, giving you some space as he watched you purposely not look up from your laptop.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, resting the back of his head against the door.

You shrugged, fingers flying across the keyboard, still not looking up at him. “Is there something you think we need to talk about?”

He knew that he deserved some of the attitude. It was only fair. Letting out a sigh, he pushed off the door and walked over so that he could sit on the edge of your bed. “I didn’t expect you to show up like that. It caught me off-guard.”

You finally looked up at him, anger in your eyes but sadness too. “What would you like me to do instead next time I think you’re in a hospital or dead somewhere, Bucky?”

He tucked his chin towards his chest for a moment. “Things just got hectic. I didn’t have time—”

“I get it,” you said, and honestly you did. But it did nothing to mitigate your worry. “But do you get where I’m coming from? I,” you shook your head, “I count on you to tell me you’re alright because no one else will. Your team doesn’t know me. I’m not gonna get a phone call or a visit from someone who works for you guys. I’m just your fucking roommate so—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, resting his hand on your arm as he did, “stop.”

You leaned back against your headboard. “Your words, not mine.”

He frowned as he nodded. “I know.”

“That was shitty.”

He nodded again. “I know.”

You sighed, finally setting your laptop off to the side. “I know that we never really talked about everything with us, and that’s, you know, that’s on me too.” You paused, waiting for him to look you in the eyes. “But do you really just think of me as your—”

“No,” his voice was as genuine as it’d ever been. “I just, I froze up. I wasn’t expecting to see you there, wasn’t expecting Sam to—” he huffed, stopping himself short as he shook his head. “You’re not just my roommate.”

A weak smile crossed your lips. “Good.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he confessed.

You shook your head. “I don’t wanna lose you either.” You let out a soft laugh. “Which is why you gotta let me know you’re okay when you get home.”

He smiled, nodding. “That’s fair.”

Letting out a deep breath, your body relaxing a bit for the first time all night, you took his hands in yours and pulled him into you. “Come here.” You draped your arms around his neck in a hug, feeling the way his arms wound around your waist.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m sorry.”

You let your head rest in the crook of his neck for a moment before pulling away so you could get a good look at his face. You gently cupped his cheek. “It’s okay.”

He let his forehead drop to rest against yours. “We okay?”

“Depends,” you said, a little bit of laughter in your voice. “If I’m not just your roommate, does that mean I’m your girlfriend?”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yea, it means your my girlfriend.”

You beamed, leaning in to kiss him. “Good.” Pulling away from him, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, standing up and holding your hand out for him to join you. “Come on.” You saw the confusion on his face as he put his hand in yours and elaborated. “There is still plenty of time for our homecoming snack.”

He smiled as he let you tug him off the bed. “Lead the way.”

#hotbuckysummer2023 #week 7 #who's this #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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vaile-elenya · 11 days

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Look I may be completely wrong, I don't cliff jump into bodies of water on the regular so forgive me if I'm wrong, but how is Elrond not injured by the fall?? The pan down from the waterfall to the cliff made the cliff look incredibly high. Not to mention the possibility of rocks at the bottom of the waterfall. My first reaction to it was “YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!” (let’s pretend that we don't know he lives)

How afraid of Galadriel and Gil-galad was he to think that was his best option? Especially if he didn't know if he'd survive.

People do cliff jump for sport but the difference is how they land in the water. I don't know if Elrond is a seasoned cliff jumper because the surface tension could kill you. Yes, he is a half-elf but I don't gravity or the water cares that much.

Can someone smarter than me figure out how tall that cliff was and see if it was survivable? If it wasn't, then he really parallels Elwing, she didn't know that she'd survive. It was Ulmo that saved her. It was a suicide attempt to keep the silmaril away from Maedhors and Maglor.

If I am right about the cliff being high enough to kill him, then maybe Ulmo saves Elrond too. In my brief-as-hell research, Ulmo knew Eärendil’s father so maybe he's fond of the family. Ulmo is said to dwell in deep rivers, so it could be possible that he saved Elrond. What a parallel if I'm right

This is just a headcanon and massive speculation on my end, so I'd love to hear your thoughts. Like this me screaming at the sky type of headcanon, I’m not expecting to by right 😂

Ohhh, I had the same thought when Elrond made that jump! To me, it looked deadly. But what struck me the most was how the other Elves seemed so... unbothered? It might not be the perfect word to use here, but neither Galadriel nor Gil-galad seemed very concerned that Elrond might have been killed by that jump. I can’t tell if it's because they have this unwavering hope and goodness in their nature, or if they just knew the jump wasn’t as fatal as it appeared, but something about Gil-galad stationing guards at every crossing and Galadriel almost immediately assuming Elrond had gone somewhere else, rather than imagining him at the bottom of the ocean, makes me think the jump might not have been that dangerous—at least not for someone with Elven heritage 🤔

(Also, it did make me a little sad we didn’t get a moment where Gil-galad or Galadriel expressed concern, like “I hope he’s alright,” or even better, “We’ll deal with the rings after we find Elrond. First, let’s make sure he’s safe.” 💔)

But! With that said, I totally see the parallel to Elwing here. Elrond might know this waterfall by heart, but in a situation like this, you just can’t help but wonder if things might not go as smoothly as planned. I think you can see that fear on his face—his eyes show so much pain:

This is the look of someone painfully hurt, painfully scared, and painfully disappointed—knowing it's either give up the jewels or, possibly, face death. You can almost feel the pain of this realization in his expression, especially in the first two shots 💔

The moment we see Elrond from behind, with Gil-estel on his cloak, it feels like we're meant to draw a mental comparison to Elwing and the Silmarils. I can only imagine what that must have felt like for him 😭 I’m seriously tempted to write a fic exploring everything going through his mind in that moment. If this was a book, I'd want an entire chapter from Elrond's POV, just to know what he was thinking 😭

And! I love the idea of Ulmo saving Elrond!!! I was going to say that when I read your tags on my last answer. There’s something so beautiful about Ulmo quietly watching over Eärendil's family centuries later 🥺 It honestly makes so much sense!!!

#elrond peredhel #ulmo #rings of power #rings of power s2 #vailë answers

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mrmorganswoman · 4 months

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Hey, I've always thought about a girl who made Arthur that way... cold but soft at the same time, serious but funny.

Maybe she was in the gang when Dutch and Hosea found Arthur. She tried to help him. She saw both him and John as her little brothers.

Maybe she was the old Arthur of the gang, hunting and dealing with folks, making money for the gang. Maybe that's why Arthur is like that.

She died miserably, that's for sure. That's why Arthur chose to copy her persona…can you write something like that?

omg that is just a heartbreaking amazing idea omg!! the exact type of thing i like to write lol. also congrats to you on being my first request!! Xx

Dear Sister

How many years had it been?

‘Too fuckin’ many…’ Arthur thought with an angry sigh. He had the date written down in his journal, along with a sketch of her. And pages upon pages written about her, of every memory of her he could recall. He could go and look, if he had a mind too. But he never could bring himself too. It was too painful. He looked at the small whiskey bottle in his hand, and downed the last couple of gulps. It burned, but that was good. Better than whatever it was he was feeling before.

“Arthur, honey come 'ere. Sit down with me…”

The teen grumbled, before sitting down next to his older sister. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, and it was like the anger within him melted away. He leaned his head on his sisters shoulder and sighed.

"What's wrong with you, kiddo? Talk t'me."

Arthur sighed into his sisters shoulder, and felt stupid tears prickling in his stupid eyes.

"I feel like a fuckin' fool. I wasn't shootin' right- And then I got mad at Hosea by mistake and now here I am- Dammit why can't I just be like you!"

She started stroking Arthur's honey blonde hair, giving his scalp a gentle massage.

"You listen to me Arthur." She began, her tone comforting and warm. "Even I have my bad days, where I can't seem to make my shot on the first try or when I make a dumb mistake on a simple job. It's fuckin' hard, aint it sweetheart?"

Arthur nodded, absorbing every word she said. Taking every breath to heart. He loved his sister so so much, he really did wanna be like her when he grew up. She was the best gunslinger he knew. She was Dutch's most trusted associate. She was orphaned, just like him, and taken in by Dutch. And now here she is, the finest outlaw Arthur knew! She did good for the gang, making them money, pulling off the most complicated heists with ease. She could hunt, moving through the forest like one of them lynx's, silent and deadly. And, according to Dutch, she was the best enforcer they could ever hope for. Never once failing to collect a debt, or scare people off their trails.

"Honey you listen to what I'm telling ya' now. I want you to never forget your worth. You are a skilled, gifted, good young man and ya' always will be. Don't you never let anyone tell you otherwise. And when times are tough, you are tougher. I want you to be strong for me Arthur, always. You promise?"

Arthur pulled away from his sister, looking at her in her pretty blue eyes. Though he would never tell her that.

"I promise. sis. I'll be strong for that stupid little John too." Arthur said, his tone is light but he meant every word with a deadly seriousness.

"Atta boy!"

Arthur looked at the bottle in hid hand, and with an enraged yell smashed it against the nearest tree. It shattered, a few sharp shards flinging back and cutting him in the face.

"Arthur! What the hell is the matter with you!?"

Ugh. Of course it had to be John.

"Get lost!" Arthur snapped, quickly standing up off the ground. Arthur stormed off, but stubborn John followed him anyways. "Marston god dammit leave me ALONE!"

“ARTHUR!” John yelled. Arthur snapped his head around, enough anger in his eyes that John was surprised he wasn’t dead. "Arthur you’ve gotta know by now that I know when she is on your mind! I know how you feel! She was as much as sister to me as she was to you! And-”

“WERE YOU THERE WHEN SHE DIED?!” Arthur roared, every speck of rage, grief, and sadness he was feeling fueled his words. “WERE YOU THE ONE WHO HAD TO LOOK INTO HER EYES AS THAT AXE WENT THROUGH HER HEAD!? DID YOU HEAR THE SOUND OF HER SKULL CRACKIN’?! DID YOU HEAR HER SCREAMING YOUR NAME FOR HELP WHEN THERE WASNT A DAMN THING IN THE WORLD YOU COULD DO?! DID YOU HAVE HER BLOOD COVERIN’ YOUR HANDS? YOUR CLOTHES? IN YOUR HAIR?”

“Arthur-”

“YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH MARTSON CAUSE I AIN’T FINISHED!” Arthur inhaled a deep and shaky breath before he continued. “You know what it sounds like, or how it fuckin’ feels to have to pull an axe outta someone’s skull? The way it sticks, how hard you gotta pull on it? The sound when it is finally unstuck?”

John sat there, motionless. The words Arthur spoke made him ill, but it was the truth. Their sister died a horrible death, one she didn’t deserve in the slightest.

“I couldn’t even bury her body. I had to run. They shot my horse dead, and when I came back she was gone.”

John opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. When John didn’t speak, Arthur continued.

“So Brother.” Arthur spat, the venom in his tone enough to make flinch away from them. “Don’ tell me you know how I feel, cause I can assure you, ya’ haven’t got the slightest fuckin’ idea.”

With that, Arthur stormed off. He headed deeper into the woods, not giving a damn about the time of night or predators or anything. He needed to be far away from everyone and everything, to clear his head.

He knew he couldn’t save his sister. Then or now. She was gone, nothing left of her but the gamblers hat on his head. It had fallen off, before….

‘I’m gon’ kill that son of a bitch…..’ Arthur thought, knowing with a deadly certainty that this was the only thing he could do. He had attempted to find them before, but this time he wouldn’t fail.

He couldn’t save his sister, but he damn sure would give her the redemption she deserved.

a/n: thanks for such an amazing request anon! i might have to include this sister in the fic im working on rn! Xx

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan fic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan fanfiction #Arthur Morgan backstory #Arthur Morgan has a sister? yes. he does.#dutch van der linde #rdr2 dutch #john marston

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hauntedwitch04 · 1 year

Text

Fools in love

Remus Lupin x reader

Words: 1,8k words

Warnings: none, just fluff and idiots totally in love with each other

Author’s note: Hi everybody! It fells so good being back, I missed writing and this is the first one-shot I write in a lot of time, so I'm really grateful for every tiny bit of love you gave me. Hope you enjoy the first day of my Halloween Party

Requests are open I Ask

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🎃Halloween party 🎃

DAY 1: “Take my sweater, I love you and i don’t want you to transform into a popsicle”

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Rain beats hard against the windows of the Gryffindor common room. The fire near me crackles, and the pieces of wood seem to break like bone after a very hard punch, as my heart probably had a few hours ago.

I've spent a lot of time by the fire, but even so, I can't shake the cold that got into my bones, in the rush in the rain I made to get back to the castle, after waiting for more than two hours for a Ravenclaw boy who asked me out, outside the Mielandia.

I still remember the feeling of the cold wind against my cheeks wet with hot tears. My sweater was now dumped on the sofa, soaked with rain, and dripping rhythmically on the floor, mesmerizing me.

The fire dances before my eyes, and I can't help but feel like two people hugged tightly, dancing to music of their own created by their love.

A little bit I feel stupid in feeling so bad, for a guy who basically I don't even like since I've actually been in love with one of my best friends for what seems like ages now, but I think the thing that has hurt me most of all is not being able to be loved even by this mysterious guy whose name I honestly can't even remember.

For hours now I've been asking myself if I'm really worth loving? Why should people fall in love with me? Am I worthy of someone's love? If I can't even date a guy I don't like, how could I ever date the one I consider the love of my life? And why the hell does Remus John Lupin have to be so perfect?

I spend what seems like days sitting there staring into the fire. I hear people passing by, coming in and out of the dorms, some stop and look at me with compassion, trying to somehow share my pain, while others whisper hypotheses and theories about why I am in that situation. I, however, remain impassive, like a marble statue, the only emotion I allow to shine through are the tears I cannot stop.

It is still a long time before I can glance at the clock without seeing it fogged up by my crying.

Midnight.

I close my eyes and pray for any otherworldly entity to erase my memory of this rainy early October day, when my thoughts are interrupted by a warm hand resting on my shoulder. I turn slightly and my breath catches in my throat for a moment, for fear that the object of my thoughts will see itself reflected in my eyes and be able to read into me, into my soul.

"Lily told me you've been stationary here for more than four hours. I had to practically make a deal with the devil to get Poppy to let me leave early to come to you, luckily yesterday wasn't too bad." He says quietly as he sits down next to me, the famous Remus Lupin, every Hogwarts girl's dream, looking at me softly. Shit, I think to myself, there was a full moon yesterday that's why I didn't see him all day. I hadn't worried about it too much actually before I went to the appointment, too caught up in the anxiety of this meeting, but now I realize what a shitty friend I've been to him. I look at him and see his face battered by sleep and exhaustion, while only a few new scratches or scars adorn his face. My eyes land on his, and selling his worried look I can't help but feel guilty and go back to crying. After a few seconds, I realize that I am not only crying out of guilt, but also out of the realization that he, the boy I love more than my own life, will never see me in the same way that I see him but only as a friend to be taken care of.

His warm hands brush my shoulders and I immediately shiver at that contact. His gaze grows even more concerned and he immediately decides to take off his heavy sweater, one of his favorites that his mother made him last year after his had all grown small when he grew up all of a sudden during the summer. As he takes off the sweater, with his arms still above his head and this one still covered by the garment, his T-shirt, which he wore underneath, rises slightly so that his athletic body covered in scratches can be seen. I feel my cheeks turn red as I look at him, but I am quickly distracted by my friend handing me his sweater.

"Take my sweater, I love you and I don't want you to turn into a popsicle," he says, fixing his hair. His words strike me more pain than a bullet, but I hide my distress behind a bitter smile, and put on his sweater. Immediately I am hit by his scent: chocolate, cinnamon, ink mixed with book pages and cigarettes. I thank him in a thin voice, before returning to silence.

"I guess I understand that the date didn't go very well." He says after a few minutes, trying to figure out if I felt like talking about it, watching me carefully as I played with my sleeves.

"Actually, there wasn't even a date." I reply, chuckling bitterly.

"What do you mean?" He retorts confused, as he moves closer to me, to study me better.

"Well he never showed up. I stood like a moron in front of the place where he told me to meet for a couple of hours, even caught some rain, then when I realized that I was merely making a fool of myself I came running back here, and I haven't moved from here since." I explain quickly, not wanting to cry again.

I see the anger mounting in his eyes as he takes one of my hands between his and brings it to his mouth.

"If anyone has made a fool of himself it's him, honey. He's a fool if he missed an opportunity like this. You deserve so much better, the best person the world has to offer." He says in a whisper as he holds me in his arms, doing nothing but twisting the knife in the wound making me bleed more and more.

After a while he breaks away from that grip and takes something out of his pants pocket, which I discover is a piece of chocolate, and hands it to me.

"Eat, you'll feel better." He tells me, but I shake my head.

"I don't feel like eating, Remmy." I try calling him by his nickname, hoping to soften him, knowing that when he puts his mind to something, it's hard to change his mind.

"Honey, I won't take no for an answer. I care about you, like a sister, and I don't want to not only see you suffer for that moron but also starve to death." He continues, pulling my face up, resting one of his fingers under my face.

I don't know why I feel something breaking inside, as if a pitcher full of water has decided to pour in, and I no longer have control over my words.

"That's exactly my problem Remmy. I'm not crying, sitting here for over four hours for a guy whose name I can't even remember, I'm feeling like I'm dying inside because what happened made me realize that the only guy I've ever really loved in my life will never look at me, if he's not even interested in me even a person who's not even worth a hole in his sock. I've been sitting here for hours crying because I'm afraid that I'm not worthy of being loved, because I'm afraid that I'll have to live with these damn feelings, because I'm afraid that I'll see this boy grow up and fall in love with someone else while I'll still be here, and he'll continue to see me as just a sister, and he just happens to have reminded me of that fact himself just a little while ago." At my last words I see his eyes light up, having realized who I was talking about, after being dark and dull throughout my entire speech. "And now if you don't mind, after screwing up our friendship, I'm going to bed." And I try to get up, but I don't make it in time because a hand encircles my wrist and Remus draws me toward him forcefully, in contrast to his delicate lips brushing against mine. It takes me a few seconds to return the kiss, unsure of what this moment might change between us, before I let myself go completely to him. I bring my hands behind his head, and run my fingers through his hair, while his hands go around my hips to take me on his lap, as we continue to kiss, as if we were suffocating and that was our oxygen.

"I love you, I love you, I've loved you for what seems like forever, and I'm just a coward for not telling you sooner." He says pulling away slightly, so he can breathe before giving me another full kiss. Then he starts giggling, and I look at him shocked, before I start laughing too. We laugh until our stomachs hurt and tears furrow our faces. Remus stands up, picks me up and lays me down on the couch in front of the fire, then lies down next to me.

"We are two idiots." I say, chuckling some more. "We are so stupidly in love that we didn't realize each other's feelings."

"We're all idiots in love, honey." Remus replies, kissing my forehead. "Sirius will never get tired of holding it against me that he was right." He says giggling and hiding his face in the crook of my neck.

"Not even Lily." I chuckle in response as well, before I feel that being held tightly in her arms, sleep is slowly taking over my senses.

"By the way, you look very good in my sweater, honey." Those are the last words I hear before I fall completely asleep.

At that moment, however, neither of us knows yet that our friends will never let us forget the fact that they found us the next morning cuddled on the couch in the Common Room, in front of the fire, and I was wearing the sweater of what would become my husband and the father of my children, to whom Sirius would tell this story and how their parents fell in love and how he and Aunt Lily were right.

#hauntedwitch04's writing #becky's halloween party #halloween party #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader

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