#i am going to be so bloody insufferable all day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whorevolo · 11 days ago

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DRACO (DILEMMA.)

pairing : draco malfoy x reader. synopsis : draco malfoy is the most insufferable prat you have ever met—yet it makes him all the more interesting. he shows the same interest in you. and you hated that. warnings : 1.7k words. profanities that are canon in the series, fluff ﹖, implied history between reader and draco, no y/n mentioned. author’s notes : i’ve been wanting to write this fic for a while, but i’ve finally gotten the motivation to write it after weeks of staring at nothing at all. （ this was written september first '24, happy sorcerer’s stone day! ）

Draco Malfoy. He was always intriguing to you. You were, in a sense, interested in him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎You let out a heavy sigh. Potions, how wonderful. Snape, while a great professor, was someone you absolutely dreaded seeing every week. It didn’t help that you had to see him every single day. You tap your fingers against the wooden desk in front of you, while your mind subconsciously floats around.

‎ ‎ ‎Sat before you was the infamous Draco Malfoy. If that didn’t click yet, then these synonyms for Draco Malfoy might: Harry Potter’s arch nemesis, The Stick Up Harry Potter’s Arse, Daddy’s Money…

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Your eyes unconsciously gaze towards Malfoy who sat a table away. Conventionally, he was attractive—extremely attractive. However, you were aware it was his attitude that put people off. No one would like to be around someone who scowls at someone who does so much as breathe in their direction.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎You flick the end of your quill, which has been in a coarse state for quite some time now, yet you never found yourself wandering to Diagon Alley in hopes of purchasing another one. Snape had been rambling on for about thirty minutes or so and you found yourself just scribbling over a piece of parchment.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Admittedly, you’ve been staring at Draco for about thirty minutes in question. It wasn’t like he had done anything interesting; he was a normal student who excelled above most students, played quidditch, and was wealthy. You could find anyone like that in other houses - still you found yourself fixating on him. Not in a creepy way as far as you were concerned.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“Oi,” Pansy pokes at your wrist. “Staring at Malfoy again? And you’re doing that as the same person who had told me I was obsessed with him during the second year.”

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“Stop it, Pansy,” you exhaled. “I am not staring at him; just observing, not staring. Different things, if you cared to know.” You retort in defense.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Pansy was right - you had told her off during your earlier Hogwarts years for being so attracted so Malfoy, yet here you were, practically gawking at him. The last thing you needed was for people to begin running their mouths about your 'crush' on Malfoy. Which wasn’t true. At least that was what you told yourself. Your mind wanders back to the discussion, tuning out Snape’s booming voice in your head. His voice, at one point, had become white noise to you.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎After class, you were walking down the corridor with Pansy, textbook clutched in your arms to your chest. You were pretty annoyed at the time; Snape had given yet another essay that could go on for miles and miles. And if Snape wanted a whole meter-long essay, it was either that meter-long essay or no mark at all.

‎ ‎ ‎“Outrageous, honestly.” You shook your head. Pansy seemed amused due to how worked up you were, but at this point, it was no surprise.

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“I mean, no one wants to write a whole bloody essay and h—” ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“Ouch,” someone hissed after bumping into your shoulder. The audacity? You turn your head to see who the person is and become flabbergasted at the sight. Draco Malfoy.‎ ‎

ㅤYour face twists into a smug smirk, yet somehow, Draco makes no move to formulate a witty remark against it. “My apologies, Malfoy,” you said. Draco’s face contorts into something akin to disdain, yet you ignore it. He walks away after; you’d notice how he carried himself and how he delivered most of his response. With pride and confidence, you observed. That smirk transformed into a small smile, which earned you a nudge from Pansy.

ㅤ“So, are we heading to the library, or would you rather continue making expressions to the air?” Pansy raised her brows at you. She didn’t seem to take notice of the interaction you just had with Draco, given she was a few feet away, so perhaps she had continued walking after Draco had bumped into your shoulder.

ㅤ“Alright, alright,” you murmur, walking forward to walk side by side with her. “So impatient.” You muse, giggling. That earned you a harsher nudge, a shove from Pansy. “Ouch— Godric, Pansy. Does no one teach you how to treat your friends?”

ㅤ“You’re the last person who's supposed to be speaking of mistreating friends,” said Pansy who seemed to be growing impatient and frustrated. Pansy and her temperament, what a great thing to experience during your free period. You loved your dear friend but sometimes you’d rather get whipped around by the Whomping Willow rather than dealing with her and her ticking timebomb of a personality.

ㅤIt wasn’t like he hated you. He, too, found you interesting. You weren’t the nicest student, but you were a bright student. It earned you some respect, which he had to give you a bit of credit himself. But he didn’t consider himself your acquaintance either. He wasn’t your enemy, nor your rival.

ㅤDuring Transfiguration, you were awfully bored. You were practically melting into the wood of your desk from how slouched over you are. As much as you respected McGonagall and her work ethics, her lecture wasn’t the best thing to listen to when you only got three hours of sleep during the night. Your finger taps against the desk in a pattern, as if indenting your fingerprint on the wooden surface. You feel something brush against your arm, and you see a crane.

ㅤYou sigh, flicking it off of your desk in annoyance. There came another flying crane. You flick it off again. There came a third crane when you were about to flick the previous one off.

ㅤ“Oh my God,” you groaned. You decided to just unfold the crane, in hopes to get rid of the cranes for good. There was writing; Swirls of cursive letters decorate the parchment, that was the first thing you noticed. You dread reading the note, but you had to eventually if you wanted the cranes to stop hauling in your way.

ㅤMeet me tonight, ㅤ- D. Malfoy.

ㅤThis prat was insufferable. Not like you haven’t realized that yet, but it was like a reminder that he was indeed the most insufferable person you've ever met.

ㅤInsufferable he was, but you chose to meet him anyway. You weren't sure where, but you had a gut feeling you knew where he fancied meeting. It made you want to gag—the fact you knew where he wanted to meet. That's utterly disgusting and out of character for you. Though Pansy does say you're just in denial. Your footsteps echoed, making no move to shush them as you walk down the hall. You try to tell yourself that you rather Filch catch you than having to meet with Malfoy out of all people.

ㅤ“Malfoy,” you breathe out. Much to your dismay, he was serious about meeting you tonight. It wasn’t like this was the first time, however. So, it didn’t feel too out of place. You watch as he turns his head towards you, his usually styled hair now free from whatever routine he did in the morning to achieve its usual look.

ㅤ“Oh, it’s you.” He spoke. ㅤ“It’s me.” You confirm.

ㅤUncomfortable silence overcomes both of you but seeing as you were now in the Astronomy Tower late at night, it wouldn’t be far-fetched. Adding onto the awkwardness, it was cold. Extremely cold. Unbearably cold.

ㅤYou rub your palms against your forearm, “Is there something you wanted? You don’t usually… you don’t usually tell me to meet you. I figured that was more of my job, not yours.” You raise a brow. ㅤHe shook his head, “Don’t act so idiotic for once, you act as though we don’t meet every other night.”

ㅤ“It’s different,” you retort. ㅤ“How different?” He protests.

ㅤTruthfully, you didn’t know how to answer that. It was clear you weren’t friends, nor enemies. It wasn’t like you were close in any way. You were just two people strung along by fate who just so happened to be illicitly meeting during the afterhours. Illicitly in a sense that you knew you weren’t supposed to be associating with him—you knew that. But you still do it.

ㅤ“How different is it?” His voice snaps you out of your train of thought, making direct eye contact. “It’s ridiculous how you start things you can barely finish, are you not ashamed?” He hissed.

This boy was beyond terrible. His reputation was very telling, yet here you were. ㅤ“Why would I be ashamed?” You frown. “You were the one who asked to meet, but you’re also the one who’s berating me at the mome–” ㅤ“I like you.” ㅤ“...What?” ㅤAnother series of deafening silence overcomes your surroundings. Your initial denial had become your ultimate realization that ... maybe you do like him. Maybe you fancied him more than you let on. You felt your heart almost burst out of it's confides in your chest, caged in your ribs. Your gaze sets on him for what felt like an eternity; it was an embarrassingly long moment of just eye contact with the guy you've sworn you never liked - at least romantically. ㅤ“Are you deaf? I said I like you,” he repeated, as if his first confession had fallen on deaf ears. You shook your head at this, almost like that'd be your final response. ㅤBut you spoke up, “You like me?” ㅤ“Were you not present the whole time I had been talking? It's no wonder you're failing Potions.” He sighed. He really took the chance to throw an insult at anyone. Even the person he liked.

ㅤ“No, no, I heard you,” you retort. You feel your forehead wrinkle in thought, yet he stood there so eerily unmoving. ㅤ“So why is it that you're incapable of responding?” He hissed, “You're associated with Parkinson, no? Maybe that's where all this obliviousness is coming from—” ㅤ“I like you too.” You reply firmly in the midst of his ramble. You could feel the air grow tense as Draco freezes before you, his eyebrows shooting up.

ㅤPerhaps he wasn't as bad as you thought. That was something you realized after you departed to Hogsmeade with him the next day. And although he could still be described as moody and a git, he was ... somewhat decent to you, his friends would point out. And well, you did get relentlessly teased and picked on by your clique, but you weren't bothered—not when you've charmed Draco Malfoy, of all people.

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cha-melodius · 6 months ago

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Can I request firstprince alternative first meeting in Rio for your fandom fest? Thanks! ❤️💙

(Yes, I'm still working on these! I'm guessing this isn't exactly what you had in mind when you sent in this prompt, but it fit in very well with the Olympics, and it IS a (very) alternative first meeting lol. I hope you enjoy!)

Tonight, You're Gold

(M, 6k, read it below or on AO3)

Henry wasn’t expecting the Rio Olympics to be particularly eventful, all things considered. These weren’t his first games, after all, and if he’s honest with himself, he’s not a favourite in the men’s Laser sailing fleet this year. Coming back from a knee injury has been hard, and he’s proud of what he’s achieved this season. If he can make it into the medal race, he’ll be ecstatic. Mostly, he’s been enjoying the experience. Enjoying watching the different sports. Enjoying the city of Rio. Enjoying the other athletes.

As one does.

Normally, he wouldn’t have gone out tonight, but Pez had cajoled him into it, saying even if he wasn’t going to find a hookup he could at least take his mind off his impending first-round race rather than stewing alone in his room. Henry had to admit he had a point. That was before this, though.

One minute Henry’s listening to a ridiculously gorgeous American beach volleyball player with big brown eyes and eyelashes that would be a handicap in many sports complain about how his room was the victim of catastrophic flooding thanks to a burst pipe, and the next, all of his common sense simply deserts him.

“…and Liam ended up finding a place with this diver named Spencer, but I got fucked over because the only extra bed right now is with Hunter,” the American, whose name is Alex, is saying. He pushes a mess of gorgeous dark curls back from his face, only for several of them to flop back and curve just under his ears, framing a jaw that could cut glass. “Who— I mean, you don’t know him, and you should be thankful for that because he’s insufferable. But the real problem is that he snores like a chainsaw, so how the fuck am I supposed to get a decent night’s sleep?”

“You could stay with me,” Henry says before he can properly think it through. Across from him, Alex raises his eyebrows. Christ. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Only, my roommate’s already done competing, and he’s moved out. So I have an extra bed.”

Alex laughs, his curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to just move into Team Great Britain territory.”

Henry shrugs and takes a sip of his mocktail—he’s not dumb enough to drink with a race tomorrow, even if he is dumb enough to make this suggestion. “Given the revolving doors on some of these rooms, I don’t think you’ll draw much attention.”

Henry should know, after all. He’s had more than a few overnight visitors since Basil finished on the second day of the games. It’s been incredibly convenient having a room to himself—Fabrizio the Italian gymnast had been a highlight, to say nothing of half the Dutch rowing team—and now he’s about to give that up for a mouthy American that he’s pretty sure is straight. Because he’s a bloody idiot, apparently.

“I mean, people would probably assume…” Alex trails off, the darkening of his cheeks obvious even in the low light.

“That we’re fucking?” Henry finishes bluntly, and Alex chokes on his drink. Definitely straight, then. Pity. “It's true, they might. I understand if those kinds of rumours are not something you’re willing to risk.”

For some reason, that makes Alex look slightly stricken. “No, I mean, I don’t care if a bunch of random athletes think I’m queer. That’s not, like, a problem.”

“So it’s just me that’s objectionable, then,” Henry quips.

Alex is stunning when he laughs. It’s becoming a whole problem. “Have you seen yourself?” he scoffs. “Fuck, man. I should be so lucky.”

Henry only narrowly resists suggesting that he could be. Even if he thought Alex would be interested, he’s offering a place to stay. Not a quick shag.

“I should… probably get to bed. Races start early tomorrow,” Henry says, offering a little smile. “The offer stands, if you decide you need a break from the chainsaw.”

Alex draws his full lower lip through his teeth, which is supremely distracting. “Fuck. We do have a match tomorrow. And it’s against the Italians who are fucking good this year.” He squints sceptically at Henry. “Are you sure you don’t mind? You just met me. For all you know, I could fuck up your sleep.”

It’s insane to say he almost wouldn’t mind, so he doesn’t. He thinks it, though. “I doubt you’ll be worse than my roommate at the London games. And if you are, I’ll just kick you out.”

He says the last bit with a teasing smirk, which makes Alex laugh again, and Henry knows already he has no hope of surviving this man. Perfect. Just what he needs while he’s competing on the world’s biggest stage.

~~~~~

Alex is a wonderful roommate, as it turns out, which is lovely but also terrible. He’s considerate about noise and the odd hours they all have to keep between training sessions and competitions. He’s a chaotic whirlwind, but he’s also incredibly organised—“My brain is enough of a mess,” he’d told Henry on the second day—and always knows where everything is at any given time. He always makes sure there’s hot water in the kettle for Henry’s tea whenever he makes himself yet another no-doubt-coach-unapproved coffee. He’s an excellent conversation partner whenever their schedules line up, but he seems to intuitively know when Henry needs some time to himself. Today, he woke up before Henry’s third day of opening series races to hype him up, even though he had no reason to be up that early.

That’s not even considering what he looks like when he comes out of the shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his curls onto some of the most well-sculpted shoulders Henry’s ever seen.

Henry is well and truly fucked.

“Hey, do people watch you guys compete?” Alex asks as Henry goes through his pre-race morning routine. “Do you have spectators?”

Henry hums, sipping his tea. “Not really. Most of the courses are barely visible from shore. They’ll put us reasonably close in for the medal race, but it’s still not much to see.”

“That’s the 15th, right?” Alex says, looking to Henry for confirmation even though he’s clearly already pulled the schedule up on his phone. “Maybe I could swing that. Our game should be late. You know, assuming we make the quarterfinals.”

Henry doesn’t quite know what to say to that. No one comes to see him compete, primarily for the aforementioned reasons of it not being the most scintillating or comprehensible sport to watch in person. Bea, at least, watches the televised races where the cameras, graphics, and commentators make it much easier to follow and texts him about a hundred times saying things like I can’t believe that asshole crossed in front of you and that Australian fucker stole your wind, which make him laugh as he reads through them once he’s back on shore.

“You don’t have to do that,” Henry demurs. “It’s really not worth it. Plus, I might not even make the medal race.”

“You will,” Alex says confidently, even though he knows next to nothing about sailing or Henry’s capabilities. Henry’s done pretty well in his first four races, but there are still six to go. “And anyway, it’s not really about watching the race. You guys deserve to have people to support and cheer for you too.”

Henry’s throat is tight. “Right, well, one step at a time,” he mumbles. Best to change the subject. “Tell me about your match today?”

Alex smiles like he knows what Henry is doing, but he lets it go, and Henry spends the rest of the time before has to depart for the race listening to Alex go on about digs and float serves and line shots. It’s a surprisingly effective way of soothing pre-race jitters and getting out of his own head, even if it’s one he knows he shouldn’t get used to.

~~~~~

Henry’s not sure he’s ever watched a beach volleyball match before, which was clearly a significant oversight on his part. He is sweating and not only because the sun is beating relentlessly down on him as he sits in the stands. It’s certainly not helped by the USA’s uniforms, which feature shorts a full hands-breadth shorter than seemingly any other team’s and vests with deeply scooped arm holes. Alex’s teammate, Liam, is wearing a white ball cap, but Alex has eschewed a hat, instead pushing his curls back from his face with a blue elastic hair band, which is more endearing than it has any right to be.

“Christ, would you look at his arse,” Pez says appreciatively from his position at Henry’s side as Alex leans over with his hands on his knees.

“You say that like I’ve been able to look anywhere else,” Henry returns. There’s no shortage of hot people in minimal amounts of spandex at the games, yet the way those shorts cling to Alex’s arse is somehow more tantalising than all of them. “I’m convinced he was specially sculpted by the gods explicitly to torment me.”

Pez tsks and slants a sideways look at him. “Still haven’t gotten him into your bed, then?”

“I’m not his type, Pez.”

On the court, Alex spikes a ball over the net, scoring a point, then runs over to Liam to celebrate. Which involves smacking each other vigorously on the arse. They’ve been doing it all match. Once, after a particularly exceptional point scored, Alex kissed him enthusiastically on the cheek.

“You’re certain about that?” Pez asks sceptically.

“You know straight men and their homoerotic sports rituals,” Henry sighs.

“Mm,” Pez hums. “I wouldn’t mind testing that hypothesis with his partner. Those arms.”

Henry snorts. “Godspeed, my friend.”

“Never underestimate my charm, Hazza,” Pez chirps, watching as Liam dives for the ball and knocks it back over toward Alex. “They really are very good at this.”

It’s not like Alex has been modest when he’s talked about their performance, but it’s very clear that he’s still managed to undersell it. The US men are practically putting on a clinic, dominating every set of the match. Both Alex and Liam are clearly exceptional players, operating like a well-oiled machine, but Henry admittedly can’t take his eyes off Alex. The way his muscles ripple under bronzed skin as he stretches to make a save. The raw power behind his serves. The brilliance of his smiles when he turns away from the net to celebrate after each point. Of course it wasn’t enough that Alex had to be gorgeous and kind and thoughtful and funny—he had to be absurdly skilled, too, even taking into consideration that everyone here is at the top of their game.

Alex is clearly still hopped up on adrenaline when Henry catches up with him after their decisive win, talking animatedly to one of the other Team USA athletes. Henry does his best to feel nothing about the way Alex lights up when he spots Henry lurking by the sidelines, immediately ditching his conversation partner to jog over to him. He’s glistening and flushed and Henry wants to lick him.

Christ, he needs to get a bloody grip.

“Did you see that save in the second set?” Alex chirps excitedly. “When I did a fucking flip and just caught the ball, and then”—he mimes a jump—“Liam slammed it into the corner?”

“It was hard to miss,” Henry tells him indulgently, biting down on his too-wide smile at Alex’s antics. “You were incredible, Alex.”

“So how’d you like your first beach volleyball game?” Alex asks. “Think you’ll come back?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Henry admits. It’s too honest by half, but entirely worth it for the truly brilliant grin he gets from Alex in return.

~~~~~

The thing about sailing is that there are no crowds you can see, no cheering you can hear. There’s just you and the boat and the wind—and nine other guys trying to cut a tighter path on the course to shave off a few seconds.

The wind is gusty during the medal race, and Henry ends up drenched in spray within the first ten seconds of getting out on the water. He loves these conditions, though, the way they push a sailor to their limits, the way it feels like you could take off in flight at any moment. The boat is responsive under his hands, skipping across the water like a stone, and he finds good angles to the wind that send him rocketing forward right off the starting gun. His luck holds, helped by the French competitor nearly capsizing in a gust and the Italian having to do a penalty turn at the second mark, and in the end he crosses the finish line at the front of the fleet in a cluster so tight it’s impossible to tell the final rankings from the water.

It probably won’t be enough to medal, even if he managed to score in the top three—his previous finishes were just a little too far back in the fleet—but frankly, he can’t find it in himself to care. Because when he finally gets back to shore, there’s an extremely excitable American who practically launches himself into Henry’s tired arms before he can even check the scores.

“Second place, you motherfucker!” Alex yelps in his ear.

Henry blinks, pulling away to look at him properly. “Are you serious?”

“They just announced it,” Alex confirms breathlessly. “What does that mean? Do you get silver?”

“No, the final scores are cumulative. It’ll depends on how the leaders finished, can you look—”

But Alex already has his phone out, looking up the scores as Henry’s coach hurries up to them, his eyes wide.

“Burton and Sheldt were both over the line at the start,” Shaan tells him urgently. “They were disqualified. With your second place, that means—”

“Fucking bronze!” Alex shouts, like he’s just won the medal, and abruptly Henry’s knees don’t feel steady enough to hold him up anymore.

It takes several minutes before Henry’s breathing returns to something like it’s normal rate, and he finds Alex sitting next to him, chewing on his thumbnail as he reads something on his phone. A short ways away, Shaan is taking care of putting away Henry’s boat for him, leaving the two of them in their own little bubble.

“This scoring system is bonkers, I hope you know,” Alex tells him. “I can’t believe it’s cumulative over eleven races.”

“I can’t believe I won a medal,” Henry replies, staring off into the distance. He can see the women’s Radial fleet on the course already, the colourful flag-patterned spinnakers cutting across the horizon. Nothing quite seems real yet.

“Yeah you did,” Alex says, grinning as he bumps his shoulder into Henry’s. “You were right, by the way. I couldn’t see jack shit. But I’m glad I was here.”

Henry’s not going to cry. He’s not. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, focusing on the connection between their shoulders like he can draw strength from it. “I am too, Alex.”

~~~~~

“Shouldn’t you be out getting wasted?” Alex asks when Henry eases the door closed behind him.

Henry really thought Alex would be asleep at this point, given that the semifinal games are tomorrow. Instead, Alex is sitting up in bed with his iPad laying on the mattress in front of him showing a paused beach volleyball game and a notebook next to that. They’d been out with a mixed group of Brits and Americans celebrating Henry’s medal and Alex and Liam’s quarterfinal victory, but Alex had begged off early to come back to their room, leaving Henry in Pez’s clutches with too much champagne flowing.

“Maybe I’m going back out,” Henry says, more defensively than is probably warranted. He is, actually. Just not to party. He walks over to his bed and pulls his medal over his head, laying it carefully on the side table where the bronze glints softly in the low light from Alex’s lamp.

“Hm,” Alex hums doubtfully as he looks Henry up and down. “You’re up to something. I can tell.”

“It’s nothing.” Fuck. He probably should have denied that.

“Henry,” Alex says flatly, giving him a Look. “I’m not gonna judge you.”

Henry sighs and leans against the wall, letting his head thunk backward. That might have been a mistake, because everything is spinning now. “I was going to sneak back to the marina and take my boat out,” he confesses.

The room is silent, and when Henry opens his eyes again, he finds Alex frowning at him. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Best time to see the stars,” Henry says with a weak smile.

“Isn’t that kind of dangerous? And against the rules?”

“Hence the sneaking.”

Alex stares another beat, then he nods, turning off his iPad. “Ok, let’s go.”

“…What?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you go out there by yourself,” Alex says firmly. “What if you slipped and hit your head or something?”

“If we got caught, you could be kicked out of the games,” Henry argues.

“And they could take away your medal,” Alex counters, folding his arms over his chest. “Whatever this is, it must mean a lot to you if you’re risking something like that. So if you’re going, I’m going.”

Christ, but he is stubborn. “My boat isn’t exactly built for two people, Alex.”

Alex shrugs. “We’ll make it work.”

Against the odds and all good sense, they do. Sneaking into the marina is easier than expected, thanks to shockingly lax security, and they find Henry’s boat amongst the other Lasers slumbering by the waterside in their cradles. Henry is well-practised at launching it by himself, so they just have to make sure Alex doesn’t capsize it when he climbs in—a near miss that leaves Alex white-knuckling the edge of the cockpit and Henry trying to hold back his laughter as Alex glares at him. The breeze has slackened now that the sun is down, just strong enough to take them out into the bay, where Henry drops the sail again and they both cram into the tiny cockpit with their knees bent and their legs weaved together.

“So,” Alex says, once they’re settled in and staring up at the stars, “are you gonna tell me what this is really about? Because I’m guessing it’s not just stargazing. Not that they aren’t amazing out here, but still.”

There’s a reason Henry didn’t put up much of a fight about Alex coming along, and it’s not how unspeakably beautiful he is with the pale moonlight in his curls. They might have only met a week ago, but he feels safe with Alex in a way he rarely does around anyone, able to share parts of him that he usually keeps buried. He takes a deep breath, letting every point of connection between them ground him.

“My father taught me how to sail,” Henry finally begins. “When I was small, we used to go out on his boat at night—a much larger one than this, mind you—until you almost couldn’t see the shore, just so we could see the stars better.” He swallows against the lump in his throat. “He died when I was eighteen. All of this—the racing, the Olympics, coming out here after regattas to look at the stars no matter where I am in the world—everything I do. It’s all for him.”

For a long moment, there’s nothing but the soft lap of the water against the hull of the boat, but then Henry feels Alex’s fingers against his, his hand pushing into Henry’s loose grip as he twines their fingers together and squeezes. “He’d be so fucking proud of you, H.”

“I know,” Henry whispers, not trusting his voice.

“Absolutely no pressure, but…” Another squeeze. “Do you want to talk about him?”

For the first time in a long while, Henry does.

~~~~~

“What do you think?” Alex asks as he emerges from the bathroom. He turns in a slow circle, holding his arms out to the side, to show off his outfit—absurdly tiny shorts that are practically painted on and a lacy shirt that he’s seen fit to close with only a single button just above his navel. There’s a gold Olympic rings pendant laying over his collarbones, and his dark curls are shining with whatever product he’s put in them to tame them just so.

Henry narrowly avoids swallowing his tongue. “I think you’ll be very popular,” he manages.

Alex’s nose wrinkles as if that is not entirely the point. He’s been invited to a party at some extremely exclusive club in the city hosted by the Brazilian women’s beach volleyball team, who happen to be two stunningly gorgeous women that seem to particularly enjoy flirting with Alex. Not that Henry can blame them, but that doesn’t make him feel any less grumpy about the whole situation.

“I’m not trying to be popular,” Alex says as he turns again, twisting around to look at his arse in the mirror. He frowns, and mutters, “Only one person’s eye I’m trying to catch.”

Henry isn’t sure if he’s meant to hear that, or respond to it, but he swallows against the disappointment that wells up in his chest. So Alex does have someone in mind. He should have expected it, really—there’s no way someone who looks like Alex could go the whole games and not find company eventually. Not to mention he’s going to be playing in the gold medal match in a day’s time, and is thus guaranteed no lower than a silver medal. There are always plenty of participants at the games who consider bedding an Olympic medalist the next best thing if they’re not going to win one themselves.

“Well,” Henry says, trying to appear as if he’s reading and not surreptitiously ogling his roommate, “whoever it is, they’d have to be an idiot not to notice you.”

“Ok, but I’m asking what you think,” Alex says, a little petulantly.

Henry sighs and closes his book on his thumb. “You look incredible, Alex. Truly.”

That makes Alex beam, and Henry’s stomach flips. Christ, he’s hopeless.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Alex asks, casting his eyes over Henry’s slightly ragged joggers and Team Great Britain hoodie from 2012. “I’m pretty sure they’re not going to let you into the club like that.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, Alex,” Henry says. “I’m not going to any club.”

“Uh, yeah you are. You’re coming with me,” Alex says, like it’s obvious.

Henry scoffs. “I think my invitation got lost.”

“You’re a medalist,” Alex points out with an unnecessary eye roll. “Medalists have an automatic invite to every party. I thought this wasn’t your first Olympics?”

Henry pointedly looks down at his hoodie then back up again. “I know how these things work, Alex. I’m also certain that none of them are interested in having me there.”

“Well, I want you there, so.” He cocks an eyebrow, like he’s challenging Henry to deny him.

Like he knows Henry won’t.

Henry refuses to bring his medal with him because he’s absolutely not going to risk getting mugged for it, but in the end he doesn’t need the proof; apparently, he’s somehow on the list already along with Alex. And also, perhaps unsurprisingly, Pez, who’s already inside and practically shrieks when he sees Henry.

“Hazza! It’s a miracle!” he shouts as he looks appraisingly at Henry’s sedate trousers and the button-down shirt, which Alex had insisted he leave open down to the middle of his sternum. “I thought we had big plans to sulk in our room tonight.”

Henry glares at him and ignores Alex’s curious gaze. “I wasn’t aware having a quiet night in was a crime.”

“It’s the Olympics, H!” Alex puts in, clapping his shoulder with enough force to make Henry nearly stumble. “You can have all the quiet nights you want after the games.”

“See, this man knows how it’s done,” Pez agrees, then turns his attention to Alex. “I don’t suppose your dashing court partner is going to be here tonight…?”

Alex shrugs. “He said he was coming.”

Pez claps delightedly. “Wonderful!”

Alex says he isn’t drinking tonight, given his ongoing competition, which is understandable. Henry, on the other hand, is fairly certain he’s not going to survive the night watching Alex dance with scantily-clad women without significant assistance. He starts with a gin and tonic, but Pez keeps on appearing in a whirlwind with a myriad of brightly-coloured shots, so it’s not long before he’s very much feeling the loosening effects of the alcohol thrumming through his veins. When Alex reappears some time later with a sheen of sweat on his skin and an ipê-amarelo in his hair, Henry even lets himself be dragged out onto the dance floor, pretending his heart isn’t hammering in his chest when Alex pulls their bodies close with his hands on Henry’s hips.

“Hey, that first party we met,” Alex asks, his voice low and husky in Henry’s ear, just audible over the thumping bass, “were you trying to hit on me?”

Henry can’t help it; he laughs. “Well, yes, at the start,” he admits despite himself, his lips thoroughly loosened by all those shots. “I wanted to talk to you, so I did. I figured out you weren’t interested, but…” He shakes his head. “It didn’t matter. I was happy just getting to know you. Then I heard about your room situation, so it was kind of moot.”

Alex’s hands tighten on his waist. “Right.” There’s an odd note in his voice as he pulls back to stare up at Henry with those big brown eyes, the lights of the club painting multicoloured patterns on his face. “And if I wasn’t not interested…?”

There are far too many negatives in that sentence for Henry to be able to parse in his current state. He blinks at Alex, frowning deeply. He might also be slightly cross-eyed. “What?”

“Fuck, you’re really drunk, aren’t you?” Alex says with a huff of laughter. He pushes a lock of hair back from Henry’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Let’s get you back to the room, yeah?”

“Sensible,” Henry says through a yawn, and contentedly leans against Alex’s side as he steers them toward the exit.

~~~~~

The American women take bronze in beach volleyball, and Henry sweats out the rest of the alcohol in his blood as he sits in the unrelenting tropical sun at the match. Next to him, Alex is in high spirits and seemingly all too happy to add to Henry’s torment.

“Did I tell you about the time we protested the beach volleyball uniforms rule at a tournament match?

Henry squints at him behind his sunglasses. He doesn’t remember much about the previous night, which he suspects is probably for the best. “No, I don’t believe so.”

“You know the women have these rules that they have to wear these skimpy bathing suits while the men get shorts and tank tops, right?” Alex explains. “Well, Liam and I made a deal with the women’s team to trade uniforms.”

It is frankly in Henry’s best interests not to picture such a thing, and he tries valiantly, but Alex already has his phone out and is shoving a photo in his face. In it, Alex and Liam are posing next to each other, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, wearing nothing but huge grins and matching tiny red bikinis. It’s actually absurd how well Alex’s pecs fill out the top, but the bottoms are another matter entirely. A women’s bikini contains decidedly less fabric than a men’s suit would, and the tiny scrap of fabric is stretched to its absolute limits, leaving precisely nothing to the imagination.

“The officials made us go change before we could play the match, of course,” Alex continues, oblivious to Henry’s suffering. “But it was worth it.”

“Quite,” Henry nearly whimpers.

“We still have the suits, actually. Said we’d wear them again at the medal ceremony if we won gold this year. Guess we’ll see tomorrow, huh?”

Henry has to close his eyes and breathe through his nose, and hopes desperately that Alex doesn’t notice.

~~~~~

Somehow, Alex manages to finagle Henry a seat in the front row for the final match. It’s a little awkward, sitting with Alex’s family, all of whom eye Henry with confused suspicion when he tries to explain how a British sailor ended up as a special guest of their son and brother. Apparently, Alex hadn’t bothered telling them about his altered living arrangements, a fact that has his mother—who Henry understands is some sort of American politician—pulling out her phone to have words with the US Olympic Committee and possibly the IOC as well, before her daughter tells her to cut it out and watch the match.

Alex is spectacular, of course, even when the Brazilians give them a run for their money, forcing the match into a nail-biting third set. Henry ends up with each of his hands crushed in the matching grips of Alex’s sister and her girlfriend (also Alex’s best friend), a statistician who has apparently run all the stats on this game and keeps rattling off numbers and percentages that Henry admittedly doesn’t quite follow.

It comes down to the final match point. Liam serves the ball, and they end up in a spectacular volley that seems to go on and on—the Brazilians make an incredible save that keeps it in play, somehow blocking a spike that Alex sends rocketing over the net, and Liam dives to prevent a ball from going out of bounds that Alex already touched. Finally, the Americans set up a shot, winding up like they’re going to drive it to the back of the court, but once the Brazilians have moved backwards to counter it, Alex softens his strike and the ball falls weakly into the Brazilian zone on the other side of the net.

The resulting cheers are deafening as Alex and Liam crash together in an ecstatic hug, knocking Liam’s cap off and nearly sending both of them down into the sand. Then Alex is running full-tilt toward them, barely pausing to accept an American flag from someone in the stands, which he throws over his shoulders like a cape as he gets enveloped in hugs from his family over the railing. It’s incredible, and Henry is so bloody happy for him, and—

And Alex grabs him, Henry assumes to drag him into a hug, but then Alex is pulling back and putting his hands on either side of Henry’s face and kissing him soundly on the mouth. Henry can see at least five cameras out of his peripheral vision, all crowding in to try and get the shot, but his attention is quickly torn away because Alex is kissing him, full and deep and claiming, and Henry can do nothing but cling for dear life as he kisses Alex back.

Alex presses their foreheads together when they finally part and says something, though Henry can’t quite comprehend it over the roar of the crowd. Only later will the words finally resolve themselves in his head, once Alex has been drawn away to be congratulated by others and Henry is still sitting dazed and touching his lips as people ask him questions he doesn’t know the answers to.

“I’m interested, baby.”

~~~~~

Alex and Liam do not, in fact, wear bikinis at their medal ceremony. Henry finds out later that the US Olympic committee’s emphatic directive that athletes wear their official Team USA track suit or else was, in the end, enough to spook the two men into behaving.

“That, and I’m pretty sure my mother would murder me,” Alex tells him once Henry manages to steal him away from the numerous well-wishers and endless press after the ceremony.

Henry has no clue where they’re going, having never been in the non-public parts of this stadium, so he lets Alex take over, leading them into the bowels of the training areas and locker rooms. By now it’s nearly three in the morning, and Henry is slightly delirious, though that’s less from the fatigue than the fact that he still hasn’t recovered from Alex kissing him in front of the entire world. They could have gone back to their room in the Village, except that apparently neither of them are willing to wait any longer.

“We should talk,” Henry says when Alex finally pushes him into an empty training room and closes the door behind them with a soft snick.

“Counterpoint,” Alex says, grinning wickedly as he crosses the room. There’s a swagger in his stride that really only comes when there’s a gold medal hanging around a person’s neck and, unfortunately, it’s devastatingly attractive. He backs Henry up against a wall, sliding his hands up Henry’s chest as he leans in so close their noses brush. “This now. Talking later.”

“You make a compelling argument,” Henry breathes.

“I know I do, sweetheart,” Alex says smugly, and Henry has no choice but to kiss the smirk off his face.

This kiss is nothing like the one they shared after the match. Henry takes his time, luxuriating in the slide of their lips and the cut of Alex’s teeth, licking into Alex’s mouth to feel their tongues slip against each other. He gets his hands into Alex’s hair like he’s wanted to since that first night, letting the curls twine around his fingers as he tightens his grip in a way that makes Alex moan into his mouth. Alex’s body is a firm weight against him, nothing but solid, corded muscle clenching under Henry’s palm. His hips rock forward, so subtly that Henry’s not even sure he knows he’s doing it, but the effect is unmistakable all the same.

In one smooth movement, Henry turns them, pressing Alex back against the wall and dropping to his knees, and the sight of the hard length of Alex’s cock straining in his trousers is enough to make Henry’s mouth water. He looks back up to find Alex gaping at him, his chest heaving and his knuckles going pale where his hands are clenched into fists by his side.

Henry licks his lips and slides his palms up Alex’s thighs to the elastic waistband of his trousers. “Can I blow you?”

“Fuck, please,” Alex exhales, a gratifying tremor in his voice.

Grinning, Henry hooks his fingers into the waistband and yanks downward to reveal—

“You’re a bloody demon, you know that?” Henry huffs as Alex’s cock twitches against the skimpy red spandex of the bikini bottoms.

“I said I was gonna wear it on the podium, and I keep my word,” Alex says, grinning, only to swear loudly when Henry leans in and presses his open mouth to the damp spot on the fabric.

Thank god this area is deserted at this time of night because Alex is loud as Henry shows off his not inconsiderable skill. He teases Alex through the bikini until he’s trembling all over, and when Henry finally sucks him down to the root, it takes no more than a few swirls of his tongue before Alex is coming with a shout and a fist tugging on Henry’s hair hard enough that Henry sees stars.

“Gold medal,” Alex breathes, his chest heaving and his thumb pressing at the corner of Henry’s mouth as Henry gentles him through the last aftershocks.

Henry doesn’t have the heart tell him that he’s not the first person to say that at the games. If cock sucking were an Olympic sport, Henry’s medal count would put Michael Phelps to shame. None of that matters now. Alex curls his hands in the front of Henry’s jacket and drags him back up to kiss him deeply, and the way they fit together is simply… perfect.

Alex doesn’t miss a beat in the rhythm of the kiss as his hand slides down to palm Henry’s cock through the front of his trousers, but Henry catches his wrist. “Later, love,” he murmurs against Alex’s lips. “What I want, we need to go back to the room for.”

They have two days before the end of the games, and Henry intends to make the most of it.

#rwrb #firstprince #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfic #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #olympics au #my fic #chamel's fandom fest

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sanskari-kanya · 6 months ago

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Guess who got 30/30 on her finals’ viva 😭💃

It was the biggest adventure of my goddamn life.

The viva was scheduled at 3 pm today so I was pretty chill. I was like okay I’ll do the hardest ones till late night, grab some good sleep and wake up a little early to revise the rest.

But my university sent a mail at 10:30 pm, saying ✨surprise motherfuckers, the time is changed to 9:30 am, all the best insufferable freshers✨

Post this mail, I had made peace in accepting that I aint gonna get any sleep tonight and I had to revise 4 subjects till 8 am (minus 30 minutes to get my boogie ass ready because I will never enter the uni looking like crap and 30 more minutes to reach the university)

I started studying around 12 am because all we did was cuss the fuck out of the university and exam managers for a bloody 1.5 hours.

Considering my attention span, my study session lasted for approximately 15 minutes before I opened Pinterest and keep scrolling mindlessly until it was suddenly 2 am 🤩. Then I went for a mindless walk around the hostel, disturbed my bf for a good 15 minutes, and realised he wasn’t giving me any attention because he actually studies and uski fati padi thi so I came back in my room and re-started studying. It continued till 5 am (paired with stress eating, gossiping, watching a documentary)

THEN, I ACCIDENTALLY FELL ASLEEP AT 5 AM AND WOKE UP AT 8 AM!?!? I had to leave at 9 am so there was no bloody chance of revising Histology and Radiology that I very confidently left for the morning 🤗 I left the house at 9 and kept a ppt of histological slides open on my phone so I could at least revise SOMETHING.

If this drama was not enough, here is more :

Me and my friend had decided to pair up for the viva but some dude mishandled the list and jumbled the numbers and I had to beg my classmate to go with a random dude so me and bestie could go tgt.

As I was about to enter the viva room, a physical fight broke pit between two students and my examiner walked out to stop the fight and never returned.

I confidently wrong answered a sub question and made the doctor believe that I was right cus I answered everything else too. 10 in Anatomy ✅

Manually picked the harder examiner for Histology because bestie shat in anatomy so I wanted her to score in Histology with the easier examiner. My reactions to the first two questions- ✨ma’am I don’t know✨ and she was glaring me so bad I cannot explain y’all but then by god’s grace, she asked me more questions (redemption arc) that I answered but she gave me 7.5 so I was like okay, I did shit in the beginning so-

Next was physiology and if y’all weren’t aware of my bad reputation with the professor (George), well now you are 🤗 But then I again had a choice to choose my examiner and I chose my favourite teacher from last semester and George was like ✨why are you not sitting with me huh✨ in the most sarcastic tone ever like i would ever voluntarily chose you , kind sir.

End result, I scored full in physiology too which just proves that my physiology wasn’t a problem, George was the problem!

Last was Radiology. I was scared for my life since I slept and didn’t revise radiology AT ALL. But the examiner was impressed by my marks and gave me 2.5 🙂‍↕️

Now if that still wasn’t enough adventure for you, let me introduce you to my bad math skills. 7.5 in Histology + 2.5 in radiology makes 10 which meant I had scored 30/30 but my dumbass forgot math and thought I scored only 27.5 and went out a little sad.

Then a senior dude asked me how was it and I was like ‘Accha tha bas muje ek baat bata histology ke liye maximum kitna hota hai?’ And he was 7.5 and then it hit me ‘Oh bhaiii fir toh muje full mile hai’ 😭😭😭

I’m never forgetting this day. I narrated this entire thing to my mom twice, once to bf, a 30 min voice note to @hum-suffer and now on tumblr.

#desiblr #medblr #desi memes #istg the dude started laughing when my math skills were revealed 😍#Im not really proud of myself cuz a lot of people scored full ao it doesn’t fell special to me anymore tho #Kanya in med school #thanks krishna im never forgettinf how i was about to shit my pants but you helped 😗#krishna and kanya

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luneariaa · 8 months ago

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ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ INJURY. ( bucky b. )

mentions about you being injured but not that detailed, bucky being worried as always, playful banters between the two of you, not much proof-read, usage of doll nicknames as always.

this is almost going nowhere but eh 😭

tagging : @xxladyballadxx || dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! 💜

"Doll!"

Bucky grabs onto your wrist almost too carefully so; bringing you along with him to the outside, vacant space beside the unused car. He begins to do some checking here and there over your figure, inspecting any possible harmful injuries while kneeling in front of you.

"Does it hurt?" He questioned worriedly, just in case, even when he just found a cut right on one of your cheeks. Thankfully, it's not too deep, so it might heal in a few days prior.

"Ouch.." You tried your best to mask your pain with a small pout, but to no avail. It's just a 'small' cut after all, you should be fine.

"You're lucky that it's nothing too serious. If it's something worse, you might give me a heart attack or something."

"Don't die yet." Your voice came out in an almost humorous, beseeching way-- yet in purpose regarding to his previous statement. "Who am I gonna annoy then?"

He rolls his eyes upon your choice of words, "Oh wow doll, I'm touched." The sarcasm is evident within his tone, trying to play it off as if he's not that concerned.

As if wanting to test it even further, he lightly smacked your thigh-- albeit almost playfully-- making sure you're really okay despite your look of disbelief.

"That's what you get for making me worried, and for being reckless." You merely pouted once again upon his remarks, the quiet utterance of 'hey' escapes from your lips involuntarily.

"You're insufferable, you know that?"

Bucky didn't mean it, of course. He secretly enjoys watching and getting every single reaction out from you.

"Thanks for reminding me!" You retaliated wryly, rolling your eyes over his words this time; somewhat aware of his true intentions, yet decided to play along for now.

Not too long after, he gently grabs ahold of your face, causing your gaze to land upon his own as he examines for any visible wounds being present. His touch is so tender, and almost making the pain from the cut earlier to dissipate into nothingness.

"Don't throw yourself out in the way next time. If I see you doing that again, I'm not and won't speak to you for a month, got it?"

He wouldn't dare to do that anyway-- both of you knew for a fact.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?"

".. dramatic ass." You huffed slightly, shaking your head. "You know damn well that's not gonna happen."

Another eye roll was received from him. "Don't try to change the subject."

"But I bet your fine ass won't listen to whatever I have to say, so I'm keeping you away from fighting anything for now."

"You can't do that!" You gasped almost too dramatically for your own liking, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Try me."

No traces of playfulness are present anymore-- only dead seriousness. The least he could do is to allow you handle one more enemy before, but the chances are low, and surely, the others have taken care of it by now.

You initially wanted to try arguing back, but also well aware on how pointless it would turn out. So instead, you simply sighed rather heavily, slumping your shoulders in defeat.

"Fine, you win." You grumbled reluctantly, shifting your gaze away from his own while he wipes your slightly bloodied cheek with some sort of a tissue-- pulling you into his strong arms after.

You couldn't even be mad at him or anything, especially when he's just worried about your well-being.

Bucky doesn't reply just yet; merely embracing you for a bit more, while still being cautious over any possible wound being present on you that's still left unseen. The feeling is still quite new to him, since he doesn't just hug people that often.

But he wouldn't lie-- it genuinely feels nice, and it brings him some sort of comfort, at least.

This time, he makes an exception for you. He's clearly trying himself, and you somehow knew that even when he didn't tell you anything.

"Sorry.." Your voice is somewhat muffled by the leather jacket he's wearing, yet he still heard you nonetheless. One of his gloved hands gradually reaches out to the back of your head-- stroking your hair so delicately as possible.

"It's fine, doll."

"Just be careful next time. For me."

#aria's post 𖥔 ݁ ˖#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff

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scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde · 7 months ago

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I've said it before, I'll say it again, and I'm sure it won't be the last time. I AM SICK AND BLOODY TIRED OF THESE MFS, HALF OF WHO DONT EVEN CARE ABOUT CURSED CHILD, BITCHING AND MOANING ABOUT AN ANGSTY TEEN DARING TO BE AN ANGSTY TEEN, I WILL FIGHT THE LOT OF YOU

(this is gonna be a bit long and probably incoherent so sit down and fucking listen to me 🔫 stick with me because I'm not just complaining about albus haters)

eVERYBODY wants cOoMmpllEeXx relatable HUMAN characters - and then SHIT themselves when the flaws a CHILD has isn't just 🥺 uwu im socially awkward and traumatised 🥺. that's why scorpius doesn't get this fuckass treatment, because his terrible human flaw is that he's a bit shit at conversation and gets sad about his dead mum (generalised understatement, but this post isnt about him. dont come for me i love him 🫶🏻)

god forbid albus, who feels unloved and unwanted (with valid evidence for a teenager), albus who feels completely out of place and outcast from his entire famously-close-knit family, ablus who is well known by the world by default via Harry and hates the attention and high expectations, albus who then gets targeted and bullied by his peers because he's not as perfect and brilliant as his father, albus who is then isolated from his one friend because Harry is making irrational ptsd fueled decisions, albus who tells Harry completely sincerely that he knows he's unlikeable but he'll try and change himself and be more like his siblings because he genuinely believes that's what Harry and everyone else whos had the misfortune of meeting him wants, albus who spends the entire play trying to prove himself and fix things via idiotic childish decisions BECAUSE HES A WHOLE UNSTABLE CHILD

god forbid that CHILD doesn't react like a patient, supported, well adjusted, level headed adult. god forbid he reacts outwardly. god forbid he reacts at all, my bad. clearly he should just sniffle a bit as if he doesn't feel suffocated and helpless by everything in his life, because obviously hes just a spoiled brat who doesn't know what real suffering is. god forbid he complains or feels anything negatively, or doesn't quite grasp that other people are struggling too because he is too busy trying so hard to deal with himself and his declining mental health the best he can with basically no support or understanding. god forbid he isn't completely perfect.

you all sound like some fucking boomer telling teenagers they don't know what real struggling is, they aren't mentally ill, they dont have any problems because they have a roof over their head, they should all go to war kids are too soft these days 😫😖😱 fUCKING‼️SHUT UP‼️

he does things wrong but he knows he does and he does everything he can to fix it! and he is fourteen!!! do none of you remember what being fourteen is like 😭😭 I swear half of you have got to be basically fourteen yourselves cmon man

cause I'm seeing this fucking pattern a lot recently. not just for albus, not just in this fandom, everywhere. ‼️ no one can fucking handle flawed characters anymore ‼️ the only thing any character is allowed to have wrong with them is trauma apparently, otherwise they have to be perfect, and I'm getting sick of it. characters and stories are meant to reflect real life, they're meant to help shape our world view, why are you expecting everyone to be fucking perfect??? what happened to nuance? what happened to understanding character development? you are all acting like characters and people are so black and white. either they're perfect or they're insufferable and evil. I won't lie, the most common victims i've noticed of this are women. but the flawed women are typically demonised, whereas the men are typically turned into uwu baby boys who actually aren't capable of doing anything wrong and then fanon goes nuts making them into ittle wittle victims. and I'm so fucking sick of all of it, I hate this. (obviously this is not a strict rule. Albus Potter, and also Albus Dumbledore now I mention it, are demonised beyond belief)

BRING BACK FLAWS AND BRING BACK NOT COMPLETELY WRITING OFF A CHARACTER BECAUSE THEY DARE TO BE HUMAN

I AM FED UP, ALBUS POTTER GET BEHIND ME

#he did many things wrong BUT I PROMISE YOU HE IS MORE AWARE THAN YOU ARE #HE HATES HIMSELF MORE THAN YOU EVER COULD #this post has been building a lot because i just kEEP SEEING ALBUS HATERS AND ITS DRIVING ME INSANE #i am albus potters defence lawyer actually #also eloise bridgertons i am seeing far too many people jumping on that hate train #i know shes going through her im not like other girls i hate pink phase but OF COURSE SHE IS #SHE LIVES IN THE 1800S WOMEN ARENT ALLOWED TO DO SHIT SHE FEELS TRAPPED IN A BOX AND ALL SHE SEES IS OTHER PEOPLE PLAYING THEIR PARTS #i could talk about her a lot more but this isnt the time or place 😔✋🏻 eloise bridgerton they could never make me hate you #also sansa stark i havent even watched game of thrones but i would fight to the death to defend her #her only crime was being a naive child and yet people hate her mercilessly #these are the people coming to me off the top of my head but there are countless fucking others #we are witnessing the death of media literacy and the death of nuance and its killing me i cannot fucking do this #i sincerely hope anyone complaining about al dont ever have teenage children because they will be shit at supporting or understanding them #hpcc #harry potter #albus potter #scorpius malfoy #years spent on tumblr and i still dont know how to tag #albus severus potter #harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #is it cheeky if i tag bridgerton or game of thrones?#it feels cheeky 😔#the marauders #tagging that too because that fandom are fucking perpetrators of this #(said as someone in it dont come for me)

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im-out-of-it · 2 months ago

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part six of season 2, episode 4 POOR IZZY “day of wrath”

127. I love the moments of Alec just making sure Izzy is okay and then picking her up and leaving 🥹

128. Jace: should I ignore my family (when it’s convenient) for her or choose the girl I would burn down the world for (and of course he was not going to choose Alec and Izzy first)

making Izzy his last resort. WHY DO THEY NOT CUT HIM OFF AND GO OFF ON HIM!!!!!! ALEC JUST RISKED HIS LIFE FOR JACE AND HE CANT EVEN CHOOSE IZZY FIRST BLOODY FUCKING HELL

129. but are we really surprised that he would choose clary over Izzy? no at least I’m not

130. clary: but what about me?

131. am I sad for her that her mom is dead? maybe for a little bit but it doesn’t excuse all the horrible things Jocelyn and clary have done. killing Jocelyn was one of the best decisions the show could have possibly made. I just hate what this does to Alec

132. because let’s be real - if Jocelyn was alive and in idris, would clary go and visit her? would she live with her? no, she would forget Jocelyn

133. and I’m not sorry Jocelyn is dead. Clary has done all kinds of shit since coming here and Jocelyn had no care in the world if it meant Alec had to almost die to protect clary. Jace would do anything to protect clary even if it meant murdering millions. Aline even asks how many lives clary is worth and jace says everything so he would happily burn the world down for her. Jace was literally going to choose to see clary first instead of Isabelle. this so called family jace goes on and on about doesn’t mean shit to him. he changed his mind more than fucking Mother Nature. and yes it disgusts me how he treats Alec and Izzy when they have been nothing but kind to him and always go out of their way to help and protect him

134. Jace does not care about Alec about Izzy about anyone who isn’t clary. that’s not romantic, it’s fucking toxic. this is a pure fucking toxic affair that is not romantic, it’s not cute, it’s not anything a young woman, child, any boy, of any gender or literally any being should choose for themselves. this isn’t passion. look at Alec and Magnus- that’s passion. that’s healthy, it’s romantic. show Malec never book Malec. Jace and clary are both toxic people but together, they’re more of an insufferable disease. and it’s sad that this is for young girls audience because this is fucking toxic at its finest

135. let’s talk about all Alec has endured:

he’s almost died three times now, twice for jace

he almost lost Izzy because of jace and clary’s actions of taking the cup (and Alec is responsible for the whole meliorn thing but at least he tried to make amends)

Alec almost gets married while trying to deal with coming out to a homophobic clave

Alec constantly gets betrayed and lied to from jace

he never gets to process his feelings because you know jace and clary will make it about them and create problems for Alec

it does get better for Alec but from season one to early season two it’s fucking hell for Alec!!!!!!!!!

Alec never feels good enough and Maryse practically shuns him (also love when Alec stands up for himself)

and Robert and Maryse have been making Alec feel like shit forever

he’s had to deal with his upcoming problems with Magnus

all the shit clary has made him go through and now he kills her mother that was no fault of his own

THIS MAN GOES THROUGH TOO MUCH AND HE DESPERATELY NEEDS A BREAK

and the way jace treats Alec doesn’t get spoken up enough. Jace will never choose Alec but Alec has almost died so many times protecting him

Alec needed to properly go off

also not sure if I posted this but love young Izzy protecting and loving her brother

LEAVE MY MAN ALEC AND MAGNUS ALONE SO THEY CAN BE HAPPY and I’m so not prepared for Alec’s grief

and I lied, this wasn’t short but I want to showcase and talk about how much Alec actually goes through. this man hardly gets a break. I’m just happy in the end that he is and Magnus are happy together. Alec and Magnus deserve all the happiness

but 135 was the number and thank you for joining why does Alec keep getting put through the ringer and Jocelyn is finally gone discussion post and bitchfest and I will see y’all soon for episode 5 ✨ thanks y’all for joining me ⚔️🫶🏼🏹

#anti cassandra clare #anti cc #just my stupid opinions #alec lightwood #magnus bane #anti jace herondale #anti clary fray #shadowhunters tv #show alec is superior #show magnus is superior #show malec is superior #shadowhunter show is superior #putting anti cc on all show shadowhunter posts because i don’t want an pro book fans hating on my shit #jace literally would have chosen clary all over again #Izzy and Alec almost died but nope jace doesn’t care #my heart goes out to Alec and Izzy #135 is the number

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hazbinsillynight · 11 months ago

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It's the first day of the radiostatic week!!! Have you prepared something for it? Because I did! 😁😁

So, for the first day here, we are with the theme first meeting. Hope you'll like it!

Day 1: First meeting

It’s been 20 years since Alastor fell into this horrible yet entertaining place that people commonly call Hell. Life was always changing here, new people fell every day with all of the particularity that qualified them. There was always something new and funny to watch, but at the top of the big pyramide of the sinners in Pride district, the radio demon was bored.

These new people who arrived every day were nothing more for him than mere food. Not even interesting at all. The deer demon fought with a lot of Overlords, proving his superiority and trapping them inside his radio to have fun. But it’s been 20 years since he started ripping the life of the other Overlords and it had become quite uninteresting.

A scream of pain resonated in the ears of the radio demon, sorting him off his thoughts. His ears started to twitch at the annoying sound of the prey he caught during one of his lonely walks. On his feet was a red-horned demon, crying and bleeding like a pig at the slaughterhouse. He begged for mercy in tears while Alastor crunched one of the fingers he ripped from the demon when he caught it like it was a common snack.

Bothered by the screams he decided to kill the demon so he wouldn’t have to hear his horrible screams again. Usually, he quite liked it when a demon was begging him for mercy and from pain but this one must have been the exception. He was insufferably annoying. One last bloody gurgling and the “life” of the demon left his body.

“Well, this was disappointing.” The radio demon said with an iconic smile on his face. “Time to go I guess!”

The red Overlord was about to walk away when a strange rumbling noise came from behind the empty box and garbage of the dark alley where he ate. His ears turned in the direction of the sound and with a curious expression on his face, Alastor moved toward the piles of junk.

There was a humanoid shape behind the boxes, they looked stunned and clearly hadn’t seen Alastor lurking behind their back. The stranger was apparently a man, he had dark skin, sharp blue claws, and the most singular head than the radio demon had ever seen.

“Urg…Where Am I…?” The new demon mumbled, not clearly seeing his surroundings.

Well, this was interesting! New demons fell every day but it was the first time the red Overlord ever saw one like him. It was as if technology took possession of his body, instead of a classic face he had a TV post. Alastor could even hear some static sound coming from the new guy. It wasn’t really audible for a classic demon but his demonic form was based on the one of an animal. He had a great audition compared to his demon peers.

“Well in Hell of course!” Alastor exclaimed cheerfully, happy to have found a new source of entertainment.

“AAAH!! Dafuq is wrong with you!” The TV demon screamed before punching the Overlord in the face, clearly surprised to see him.

Alastor stayed still as an uneasy silence invaded the space between the two demons. He had been hit before but the demons that managed to touch him in a fight could be numbered with the fingers of a hand. Oooh this demon was more and more interesting with every second. He would have a lot of fun with this one.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t want to hit you, you just scared the shit out of me.” The TV demon said, looking sorry at the man before him.

“Worry not my friend! If you said you’re sorry and that hurting me wasn’t your intention I suppose I can let it pass!” Alastor said with a deranged smile on his face.

He felt like a child during Christmas, waiting to open a present. This new demon was so strange, unusual, and funny! He couldn’t wait to see the next thing he would do to entertain him.

The stranger looked a bit confused and surprised by his reaction but it was nothing compared to the look on his face when he finally properly saw who or rather what kind of person he had in front of him.

It was really funny to look at. Alastor could see his pixel eyes looking at his ears, woods, and smile with fear.

“Oh worry not dear friend! I won’t hurt you or at least not now.” The Overlord said with the same smile he had since he met that new demon. “I never saw anyone like you before, it is quite interesting if I may say!”

“Ah! Uh thanks, I suppose? Look, pal, it's not against you but I need to go…” The stranger said before trying to get up.

Alastor looked at him, trying to get on his legs, he looked like a baby deer with his first steps. It was kinda endearing. Where would he go that could be safe enough for a new demon? It wasn’t the safest quarter of the Pride district and all new demons were fragile and weaker, especially after their death.

If he goes, Alastor would probably lose his new source of entertainment for a while. Or worse the TV demon could make a deal with another Overlord! No that won’t do!

“You shouldn’t leave like that, my friend. It is very impolite. Besides, you’re clearly too weak to survive out there. It must have been a violent death you just had.”

Barely standing up the TV demon looked at him, a bit out of breath and surprised. His confusion was adorable.

“Death? I don’t under-”

Suddenly he cut himself in his sentence and passed his hand all over his torso. Tiny mistake here because his hands were what was holding him against the wall. Before he could fall Alastor grabbed him in his arms.

“Now, now, dear friend, I think you should rest, don't you agree?” Alastor said rather than asking, still smiling at the new demon in his arms.

The new demon looked at the strange and scary red guy over him, his vision was starting to get blurry, and black dots slowly invaded it. He didn’t understand, the last thing he remembered was the gunshots and then nothing. He woke up here.

A shadow with a creepy green smile appeared next to the red guy with sharp teeth and wood, the two of them looked like they just got out of a scary movie or a nightmare. He tried to fight against the urge to sleep that was becoming stronger and stronger as much as the seconds passed, but in vain.

“Sleep well, my dear friend.” Said a cheerful voice before he fell into the darkness once again.

*********

When he woke up in an unknown place for the second time the TV demon wasn’t as shocked as he first was. He just hoped it was all a dream and that someone rescued him from the attack at the studio. The simple thought of what happened earlier frightened him and gave him the beginning of a headache.

“Urgh…my head is killing me…” He rumbled trying to get his surroundings.

“I see you are awake!” The creepy red guy exclaimed near him, even if he couldn’t see well for now he could distingue the crazy smile on his face. “Do you need electricity? I chose a house that had some in case you might need it.”

The red guy?Deer? Creature? Honestly, he didn’t know what he was, was looking at him as if he was a new specimen and that he wanted nothing more than to dissect him alive. Urg…he didn’t have the strength to deal with this shit… His head was killing him and for an unknown reason heavier than he remembered. His whole body felt so weird right now.

“Why would I need electricity? And where are we? I swear if you lay a single hand on me you’ll have to deal with the cops!”

Why was he in this dream again? Why hadn’t he woke up when the darkness invaded him for the second time? Things weren’t right and the look on the other guy’s face wasn’t reassuring at all.

Alastor looked at the new demon to see if he was serious before bursting into laughter when he understood he was. His new friend was funnier than he first expected, perhaps he’ll keep him as a shadow if he couldn’t survive hell.

“Well for your head of course! I’m not sure if it works with your energy or if you need electricity. It would be better for you if it worked with your energy but who knows what fate has in reserve for you.”

The new demon looked at the man in front of him with apprehension. He was clearly mad. But at the same time wasn’t he to see or dream of such things? He passed a hand on his face when another wave of pain passed into him, and it was only then that the cold shower called reality hit him.

“What happened to my face?!” He screamed in panic as his hands tried to find something familiar on his face and head.

He has no hair, no nose, no ears, no anything! All he could feel was the coldness of the metal and glass, the sound of the guns still vivid in his mind. He felt himself on the edge of a panic attack which only amplified when he saw his hands and how sharp his nails were. It could destroy metal so easily now!

“See? I told you you were an interesting person! I never saw a demon like you my friend, perhaps you’re the first of your kind! There is no need to panic at all.”

Demon. He was a demon. Oh Lord, he was in hell. He died during that gunshot and now he was in hell.

“No need to panic?! I don’t have a freaking face anymore!”

Just into what had he turned into? He was just stuck as nonhuman with some metallic head that weighed too much to be normal. He wasn’t stupid enough to say he didn’t deserve Hell. Clearly, he wasn’t the best human on earth, and he knew it, but still! Why couldn’t he look a bit more like this creepy red guy?

Suddenly music started to resonate in the room. The new demon turned his head to its source to find a shadow replica of the other demon playing the piano. It was smiling at him while the real red guy was bringing a huge mirror in front of him. The music kinda helped him to calm down.

“Here so you can see yourself. It is quite something when you first wake up here but I’m sure you’ll find your mark very quickly. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t. You look like a strong demon.”

The new demon sighed heavily and looked at the Overlord in front of him a little sorry. This guy looked and clearly was weird, but he wasn’t bad with him. The least he could do was to give him a chance.

“Thanks and….I’m sorry…” He said before nervously walking to the mirror.

In front of him as his reflection was a man with dark skin, sharp blue claws, and a TV for a head. It wasn’t like any model he ever saw back in the living world. It had a big screen and the antennas were shorter. There were two round boutons on the right of the screen, probably for the volume and the channel. On the screen were two huge red eyes and a sharp blue smile, he had no nose or ears but somehow it wasn’t preventing him from hearing or smelling around.

“This is so weird…” He let out too much shock to look anywhere else other than the mirror.

“I was going to say exciting, entertaining, or original but if you prefer weird my friend then alright. It is weird.” The red demon said with his traditional smile. “I’m Alastor, the radio demon. A pleasure to meet you!” He added before taking his hands to shake them.

“I’m…well I…”

“You know my friend, one of the good points of starting a new life with death is that you don’t need to bother with old undesirable baggage. So now tell me. What is your name?”

The TV demon smiled for the first time he woke up here and shook the hand Alastor was handing him. Yes, he could do this, he would survive Hell, and perhaps he could do it with his new friend.

“Call me Vox, friend.”

#vox x alastor #radiostatic #alastor x vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #radiostaticweek2024 #tumblr fic #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #radiostatic week 2024

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porsche-grey-barnes · 7 months ago

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Chapter 1: the case of Willamina Wood.

Tw: this chapter includes: rape, assault, death, talk of sex, and bad friends. Viewer discretion is advised.

Knock, knock, knocking on the two dead boys' door.

Edwin:

Everything was going splendidly. We had moved crystal in next door to the office so she could have her own room, and coincidentally Jenny moved downstairs.

The night nurse left us alone for most days, unless we had a case she insisted on being there for.

Speaking of, we had just finished wrapping up a case. Three boys terrorising young human girls. Crystal calls them “dead frat bros”. I do not like the name, but she does so automatically Charles likes it too.

We walk into the office, Charles and Crystal talking as usual, while I walk ahead. I will not say I am over my love for Charles, but I know he does not see me in such light. So to be a good friend, I refuse to give In to them.

Once I sit down at my desk, the mailman comes scaring both Charles and Crystal and I smile slightly.

We let Crystal see if she could pick up anything off of the mail, getting used to her powers already.

“It is pretty brills innit?” Charles asks as he looks at her, her eyes white her head tilted backward.

“It’s…..charming, to say the least.” Ever since her, Niko, and Charles saved me, I've been trying my hardest to be nicer to the girl. It is a trial sometimes, I will admit.

When she finally comes back, she looks at us and says “nothing good, just some girl missing here. But, but, I think I know her?”

Crystal never got to take the other two memory balls, therefore she has some dark spots here and there. She says they may have more bad memories and doesn’t want them.

Charles gos up to her. His hand on her shoulder “is she ok?” “I think so. All I saw was a smiling girl, but I don’t know who or what she is…” right then an older gentleman walks in.

He has grey hair and blue eyes, he seems to have died around the same time as I.

“This is the dead boy’s detective agency, correct?”

“Yes, that is us.” I say sitting up in my chase at the new case.

“Good. I have a case for you.”

Charles, Crystal, and I all look at each other, ready for our next case.

The case.

“There is a girl. Her friend lives in the apartment I stay at and she visits quite frequently. She’s a human.” The man states.

We deal with the dead. That is our job. Last time we took a missing girl case we got stuck in port Townsend and I got sent back to hell. The answer is no.

But as I look up I can see Charles and Crystal really want to take the case. More Charles than crystal, so I let him finish.

“She’s the nicest of the lot. She always makes sure the girls are quiet, and she’s kind. To everyone.” He looks Charles and Crystal up and down, clearly still in his own ways.

“And I would not be here, usually, but those idiotic girls keep yelling at one another, saying that she’s lost because of one another. It’s insufferable. I was hoping you could help find her.”

Crystal's look tells me she thinks it might be a demon like her, but a demon would not be so subtle.

“We’ll take the case!” Charles says before I or Crystal have a chance to speak.

The man nods and looks at me, with a roll of Charles’ eyes.

“We’ll take the case.” I say.

Finding willamina wood.

“Why did he discredit Charles like that?” Crystal asks.

“He’s a bloody racist, is why.” Charles answers.

“It’s not uncommon, in our line of work we deal with people who died when that was common. And it unfortunately is hard. You as well will get discredited, for being a woman, and for being of colour.” I say, and she looks angrily at the door the man just left from.

“You get used to it, but it’s best not to let it get to you.” Charles says.

“You’re right. Let’s focus on the girl. He said her name is willamina but the girls call her Willy. Why don’t you two go talk to people around where they last saw her, try her friends.” Crystal says as she eyes the missing flyer.

When I pick up the paper, I see it is our missing girl. She’s been missing for 48 hours. And by human statistics, she should be dead by now. But for her sake, let us hope she is not.

“And what about you?” I say.

“I’ll call hospitals near the area, try and see if she’s been checked in.” Crystal says as she grabs her phone and starts a “Google search” as she calls it.

Charles packs his bag, and we grab our special glasses, and we take to the mirror.

The investigation

Her “friends” were of no help. They say they were in some band of sorts, said they were from the states and wanted to “branch out” but they could not even tell us her last name.

“Some friends. They left her alone so they could go shagg.” Charles says as we try to find a mirror.

“Truly horrible girls.” I answer him.

As we step back into the office, Crystal stands up.

“I found her, she’s at a hospital three blocks from here. They say she’s in good condition, she has all her memory’s, but hasn’t been discharged yet. But…” she says as she paces slightly.

“But?” I say.

“But I don’t know if it’ll be a good idea for you two to come with me. They say she’s a bit tense with men.”

“Tense with men?” Charles asks.

“It does not matter, she can not see us.” I reason. They both agree, Crystal is still on edge however.

The girl with multi coloured hair and battle scars.

Me and Charles decided against going in with our glasses, not wanting to scare her.

Crystal walks up to the nurses station, a woman in scrubs and a bun, who looks too tired to stand up is sitting there.

“May I help you?” The nurse asks.

“Yes we-I’m looking for willamina woods?” Crystal says, almost blowing it up. I roll my eyes and Charles bumps me.

“Realstion?” The nurse asks.

“Say we are her friends,” Charles says.

“No they won’t let us in, say we’re family, her cousin,” I retort.

“I’m her cousin.” The nurse looks crystal up and down, but nods.

“Before you go in, you should know she’s been through a lot of trauma, the poor girl, so, don’t scare her, ya’hear?” The nurse tells her as she leads us to a door.

“Yes ma'am” Crystal says.

When we walk in, there’s another nurse, a girl, laughing.

The nurse walks out and says “you have a funny friend, she’s been joking since she’s got here.” I smile at that. The girl seems to have went through trauma and is still joking around. In away she’s a bit like Charles.

When we walk in fully, she clams up.

“Who are you guys?” Guys?

“You can see us?” Charles asks, and she nods.

“Near death experience.” Is all she says, her smile gone from her face. Whatever trauma the poor girls been through, it has something to do with men.

“Charles, let us take a walk outside shall we?” He nods and we walk out.

Willy:

“Willamina?” The girl says. And I nod.

Who are these people? Why can’t everyone just leave me alone? Two nights ago was the worst night of my life and they just won’t leave me ALONE!!

“I’m crystal, we, uhm, we were asked to find you.” Huh, maybe my “friends” cared after all…

“Oh, by who?” She smiles at me talking.

“A ghost who lives in the apartment your friends live at.” Oh, so they don’t care.

“Can I ask what happened?” I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s best to tell someone now, then push it back until I rage and do something stupid.

“It all started two nights ago….”

Hi author here, I just wanted to say this part might be triggering to some viewers.

Warning: rape, death, sexual assault, and bad friends are in the fallowing. Viewer discretion is advised.

Two nights ago.

YES! We did it! We just played one of our biggest crowds yet! And they loved us!

I walk out of the bar, ready to catch a ride from one of my friends. I decided earlier not to take my bike tonight, not to mess up my hair. Everyone said that they'd give me a ride to and from the concert so I’m not worried.

When I walk out all my friends have guys or girls on their arms, ready to head back. I stop one of them, Cindy, she’s the nicest.

“Hey cin, can you or one of the others give me a lift home?” I ask, and she looks a bit disgusted, but I don’t let it bother me, that’s just how they are.

“Willamina, hun, we’ve all got, uhm, plans, maybe next time you should just rely on yourself.” She laughs and gets in her car. When I looked for the others, they all left.

They left me.

They all left so they can get screwed….

What great “friends” I have.

I’m only four blocks, I’ll just walk.

As I walk, I feel eyes on me, but I don’t turn around, instead I decide to do what my mom always said and take a number of turns to lose them.

After about six different ally’s I think I finally lost the person, and I walk into the ally right next to where I’m crashing.

Once I walk into it I feel hands on my arm, and I turn around, and a man in his 50’s maybe 60’s with thinning grey hair, and round, with a crooked smile

The old man corks out “oh, have I had my eye on you” in a heavy accent and I’m instantly paralyzed with fear.

He puts a gloved hand over my mouth, and all I smell are toxins, and then it all goes black.

When I wake up I’m freezing cold, stripped of my clothes, and now my dignity. I look up and there’s a woman with curly hair and sad eyes.

“No woman should have to go this way, my dear. It is here that I give you a second chance at life. And I am truly sorry.” And with that a blue light blinds me.

The next time I wake up, I’m in a hospital bed, with a male doctor checking my vitals, and I instantly do not feel safe. I wiggle and scream and he leaves and a female doctor comes in to soothe me.

“Hush dear, you are alright now. No more scary men. I promise.” She tells me.

Now.

I’m crying as I speak. “And that’s how I ended up here.” Crystal looks at me with sad eyes. And I’m sick of people looking at me like that. I’m not defenceless, I was just scared shitless.

“I’m sorry.” She tells me.

“Don’t be. You can’t fix it. No one can. That’s the end of it. You found me, now you and the two gay ghosts can leave me alone.” I say, or rather I snap.

“Just Edwin, Charles isn’t gay- y'know what, I’m not gonna fight it, I’m, I’m sorry, I’ll get my friends and we’ll go.” She says and I turn to go back to bed.

When she sits the light off and I close my eyes, the lights turn right back on.

“Ms.wood?” A boy says in a proper accent. My hands get sweaty, and I want to run, but I just close my eyes more.

“I am Edwin, Edwin Payne. I- well, I just want to tell you that not all men are like the one who I assume hurt you. And,” he sighs and asks himself why he’s doing what it is he’s doing. “And I’d like to ask if you have any place to stay?” He asks.

“Uhm, no, no I don’t.” The loft I was renting weekly is probably due to the fact I was supposed to pay yesterday, so, I guess I’m homeless now ... .just the cherry on top of the cake.

“Well, if you would like, Charles, Crystals, and I would love to have you.” He says, kind of hopefully.

I open my eyes and he has one hand in the other, and his bow tie is slightly crooked. I smile.

“I’m, I'm not that trusting with men anymore.”

“That is completely understandable. And if you would allow us, I’d like to, well, I’d like to try and be one of the ones you do trust. And I hope Charles could be as well.”

He’s nice. And he’s willing to be a friend. I guess I am in the market for new ones. And they don’t seem like the type to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Ok” I nod, and he smiles.

“Ok. I’ll have crystal sign you out.”

#charles rowland #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #crystal palace #original character #willamina wood #willy #niko sasaki #night nurse

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countrymusiclover · 9 months ago

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53 - What Are Her Intentions

Part 54

Family is More than Blood

@secretdreamlandmentality @melvia-ito

Klaus’s pov

I groaned, staring up at the ceiling of the mansion for a few moments enjoying the simple sound of silence that fell throughout the house. Then I rolled over onto my side seeing my queen laying beside me. Her blonde hair was scattered across the pillows and our bodies were barely covered by the tousled sheets. “I know you’re in there, Rae. I won’t let her keep control over you.”

Trailing my fingers over her bare shoulder she sniffed in her sleep. “Already awake. It appears I didn’t tire you as much as I thought last night.” She stretched her arms and legs out when she uttered her first words of the morning.

“I wouldn’t say that. We’ll definitely have to go shopping for new furniture.” Lifting my head up slightly I saw the destruction we caused. The dining table downstairs was broken in half, the main living room coach was torn, and most of the beds except for the ones in our children’s rooms were completely smashed into the wooden floor.

Raelyn flipped over onto her side to face me with a cocky smirk on her lips. “Hmm wasn’t it you that once told me that vampires never tire. That’s the beauty of immortality is it not?”

“Maybe I did. But that isn’t important now.” I shifted my body above hers and she smirked even wider if that were possible. I leaned down, capturing my lips with hers in a quickly heated kiss.

She threaded her fingers into my already tousled and super curly messy locks. I moaned into the kiss enjoying the feeling of doing this with her again, even though I wished that this dark side of her didn’t have much control over me. “So what would you say to a shower before we go furniture shopping?”

“Tis temping…but I have to go take care of a spell I have been working on.” Raelyn pushed me onto my back vamping over to the walk in closet grabbing some new clothes for the day.

Flopping onto my back on the pillows I put my arms behind my head watching her walk around the bedroom getting dressed. “You are a little evil minx.”

“You weren’t complaining last night, Nikky.” She smirked, shrugging her blue Jean shorts up her legs and buttoned them very slowly just to tease me.

Shaking my head I sent her a half glare. “Last night I wasn’t complaining but I am now.”

“Oh I wish I could say I was upset about it. But I most certainly am not and do you want to know why?” She put her short orange shirt over her head that showed off part of her stomach. Swaying her hips back and forth she vamped over to me standing at my bedside.

Pushing myself up in a sitting position lifting my head up to meet her gaze. “Tell me why, my love.”

“Because if I keep you here waiting for me to come back. Well you’ll be so desperate and needy when I get back that we won’t be able to stop having sex all night and maybe even the next day.” Dark Raelyn draped her arms around my neck touching our noses together.

I growled under my breath at her seductive suggestion. “You have become much more sexually active. Much more than you ever were when you were pregnant.”

“If you’re implying you’d like me pregnant again I think that could be arranged with many hours of work.”

I tilted my head to the side wrapping my arms quickly around her waist and she squealed before our lips hungrily met for a second time this morning. “Then it turns out that you have other matters to attend to.”

“Fair point….” She kissed me once more holding my face in her hands kissing me for a good few minutes until she broke it and vamped into the doorway leaving me flustered on the bed.

I hung my mouth opened in utter shock blinking my eyes a couple of times in confusion. “Bloody hell, you truly are Dark Raelyn.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Nikky.” She vamped out of the room without another word.

Getting up from the bed I put on some pants and one of my shirts mumbling to myself. “Insufferable sexy heretic!”

The bedroom door suddenly burst opened where I spun around on my feet seeing someone unexpected visitors from New Orleans. None other than my siblings Rebekah, Elijah, Kol and Freya. “Niklaus!”

“What do you want, Rebekah?” I grumble under my breath throwing my head back in annoyance.

She vamped in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want you to explain to me what the hell did you let her dark side do to our former home!”

“It wasn’t simply just all her fault.” I dropped down sitting on the edge of the bed. “It takes two people to tango or should I say let the spirits move our animal instincts-“

“Klaus, I don’t wish to hear about you two love making when Raelyn is in real danger.” Freya stepped up to her sister’s side.

Kol moaned in disgust. “Just be happy you didn’t have to hear their first night together.”

“Did you really come all this way to be concerned with my sex habits because if so there’s the door.” I rolled my eyes pointing at the door wanting to end this conversation with them.

Elijah ran a hand down his face. “Niklaus, we need to be concerned about your wife at the moment.”

“And you don’t think that I am. How shameful, Elijah.”

Rebekah gains my attention for the second time, arms still crossed over her chest in anger. “If you are so concerned, tell us where your beloved wife is right now.”

“Off doing a spell.”

Kol was quick on his feet. “What kind of spell, brother?”

“We have to find Raelyn before she kills the whole town.” Elijah exclaimed before we heard screaming from the boarding school from all the way at the mansion.

Alina’s pov

Jackson and I had been up all night because of Xavier and his crying. I snuggled underneath the covers trying to sleep but I felt someone standing over me. I slowly peaked over my shoulder jumping in a scare seeing my mom standing at my bedside in the complete darkness. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is it a monster or Xavier?”

“Phantamogriphia decorum.” She only uttered a spell from her lips, clasping a hand on my arm and her other on Jack before I passed out and woke up in a similar room to our bedroom.

Jackson was standing beside me confused. “Mrs. Mikaelson, what kind of spell is this?”

“Simple illusion spell, wolf.” My mom sniped at him where I raised a brow at her nickname to address my husband. She never called him wolf, he was always Jackson to her so something must be up.

I take a step towards her nervously. “Mom, what do you need to show us here?”

“I need to warm you, dear.” She replied simply.

Jackson sent me a confused look taking my hand in his before I asked the question I would soon regret later. “Warn us about what exactly?”

“Tenebris anima vestra contundito morten et conteret spirtium.” She raised her right hand chanting a spell causing me to claw at my neck struggling to breathe, removing my hand from Jack’s.

Jack grunted dropping to his knees with his bones starting to break. “Alina!”

“Jacks! What the hell are you doing mom?” I winced sharply feeling the bones in my back beginning to break.

She lowered herself down on a knee lifting my chin up so my gaze would meet hers. “This is a warning that if you or any of my other children try to bring the true me back. I will use the same Crescent curse I used on Hayley and Jacob to trap them as wolves unless there was a full moon.”

“Alina - what is she talking about!” Jackson held his stomach with his eyes glowing gold.

I felt tears falling down my face with my knees giving out from under me. I screamed through the pain forcing myself to look up at my mother. “Why do you think I’d say anything?”

“Because you are very much like your father, Lina. And I can’t have that if I want to be the version of your mother that stays around.” My mother growls down at me, clutching her hands going back to chanting the spell trying to turn us back into our wolf forms. “Frange vitam nolite corde ut sub terra esse, ad tenebras usque in sempiterrnum.”

Jackson and I laid on the ground trying to fight the pain but her spell was too strong. I felt the fangs in my mouth coming through and my eyes turned the golden color before I gasped in relief seeing my aunt Freya and my father appearing behind her. “Aunt Freya - dad!”

“She’s not your mother, Alina.” Freya stomped forward grabbing the back of my mother’s neck quickly twisting it until it snapped and her body collapsed onto the ground in front of us. “I think that’s enough out of you.”

Holding myself up on my hands and knees I gasped to catch my breath eyeing my father who hadn't said a word. “Dad, how could you let this happen?”

“I'm sorry, Alina.” He whispered glancing down at his uncommon wife laying on the floor before our mind space disappeared and we returned physically to my bedroom.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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lacontroller1991 · 1 year ago

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WHUMPTOBER 2023

ITS SPOOKY SEASON BITCHES AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS???? WHUMPTOBER

Main Master List

SOOOOO I am giving it a go again this year. That being said, I don't have all the days planned out and I might not post on all of the days, but the ones I do have planned out I do plan on posting. So HUGE SHOUTOUT to @ailesswhumptober for supplying the prompts I will be using this year.

They are as follows:

1) Drugged/Sick/Poisoned (Sub: Bloody Knuckles) - Johnny Lawrence

You got in a fight for your life and the only thing you could think about is going to the comfort of your sensei, unknowing of your wounds.

2) Overworked/Insomnia/Exhaustion - Ernest Lawrence

Lawrence has been working very long and very hard hours to produce the first nuclear bomb. Long enough hours to forget a very important celebration.

3) Sensory Deprivation/Overstimulation/Isolation - Ed Baldwin

Being on the moon by yourself is tricky as is, dealing with the loss of you however? It’s downright insufferable.

4) Hiding an Injury/Betrayal/Lying - N/A

5) Hostage/Kidnapping/Held at Gunpoint - Roman Sionis

With you now being known as Roman Sionis’s girlfriend, you becomes an easy target.

6) Conditioning/Mind Control/Forced to Hurt Someone - N/A

7) Flatline/Restrained/CPR - Rick Flag

Rick and you have always had prank competitions, but this year, you take it a little too far.

8) Panic Attacks/Dissociation/Seizure - Gordo Stevens

You wait at the restaurant for 30 minutes and are very irritated that Gordo doesn’t show up. Deciding to give him a piece of your mind, you go to his house only to find that Gordo is in the middle of a panic attack.

9) Scar Reveal/Interrogation/Presumed Dead - N/A

10) Branding/Scarring/Collar - N/A

11) Fainting/Paralyzed/Adrenaline - Ernest Lawrence

Feeling the buzz of finally completing the first nuclear bomb, Lawrence comes home to you and fucks you.

12) Self Harm/Sacrifice/Character Death - Gordo Stevens

After a night of heavy drinking, Gordo reflects on his life and how pathetic he has become. Wanting to hurt himself but not go through with it, he calls you, who he knows will help out.

13) Earthquake/Flood/Crushed - N/A

14) Bleeding through the bandage/Field Medicine/No Anesthesia - N/A

15) Experimentation/Muzzle/Transformation - Jonathan Crane

You decide to be a test subject for his new toxin.

16) Amputation/Chronic Pain/Hospital - N/A

17) Hypothermia/Heat Stroke/"You Look a Little Pale" - J. Robert Oppenheimer

In which the detonation of the atomic bomb is successful but the one person who should be celebrating isn’t looking too hot.

18) Fever/Vomiting/Warm Soup - Gordo Stevens

Gordo survived Jamestown but at what cost?

19) Taken for Granted/Left Behind/”Why wasn’t I enough?” - Stephen Holder

Holder is smitten by a fellow detective and so he does all of your paperwork at your request. Linden confronts Holder about this behavior but Holder deflects it. When he goes to ask you out, you reject, leaving a heartbroken Holder.

20) Dehumanization/Stockholm Syndrome/Master and Servant - N/A

21) Blood Loss/Shock/Near Death Experience - Gordo Stevens

Follows the events of season 2 where instead of Ed’s plane catching on fire, Gordo’s plane catches on fire and he’s forced to eject, causing him to land in the middle of the ocean. You are nearly devastated, Gordo has never felt more alive.

22) Whipping/Punishment/Stress position - N/A

23) Begging/”Take me Instead”/Forced to Watch - N/A

24) Failed Escape/Hunted Down/Too exhausted to keep running - N/A

25) Nightmares/Flashback/”Why didn’t you save me?” - Joe Pickett

In which Joe has recurrent nightmares about his childhood and you try to help him.

26) Magical Exhaustion/Curse/Came Back Wrong - N/A

27) Forgotten/Locked Away/Immortal - N/A

28) Whumpee Hair Pulling/Oxygen Deprivation/Sweating - N/A

29) “The easy or the hard way?”/Bargaining/Force To Choose - Obi Wan Kenobi

Maul is holding both you and the Duchess Satine Hostage and forces Kenobi to choose one, the woman he “loves” or the woman he loved.

30) Possession/Mind Games/Coma - Rick Flag

The Enchantress control’s Rick’s mind and knowing Rick’s connection with you, his best friend, the Enchantress decides to get rid of you.

31) PTSD/Headaches/Crying - N/A

If you guys have any thoughts about the ones I have unnamed, please send me an Ask or DM if you would like to see someone in that slot!!!!

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veldettestuff · 8 months ago

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Hazbin Hotel- Velvette x Odette- Guess I don’t have a choice, all because I liked a girl.

Chapter 1: The First Spark

"So, as I was saying, our people are in serious danger in the next extermination. We need to ……."

This meeting was so boring. Of course, it was. It had a goddamn Carmine hosting it. Really, this was so boring that Velvette couldn't ever muster the energy to scroll on her phone. God, at this rate, she was going to fall asleep.

“Velvette!”

"Velvette, I swear to God if you …"

And with that, sadly, Velvette was up, "Oh my God, you old geezer, shut the actual hell up! You interrupted my nap!"

"Your nap!" Carmilla yelled, "We are discussing plans to protect the entire population of hell and our souls! Which correct me if I am wrong; keep you and the rest of us in power!"

"You know, maybe I would pay attention for once if you weren't so goddamn insufferable all the time! I don't even know why I even come to these stupid things. I never get anything out of these meetings!" Velvette sighed. She knew exactly why she came to these meetings. Valentino, like every other event in his life, fucked these things up. I mean, god, who in their right mind suggests an overlord orgy. Half of the overlords cut off supplies to the Vees for over a month. It took way too much bribing from Vox to try and get them back into the "I'm not going to kill you on the spot" graces of the other overlords. And Vox, bloody Vox. The one goddamn time he had come to one of these stupid meetings with Alastor, he had a goddamn meltdown like a toddler where he broke down and tried to make out with Alastor, who tried to legit murder him with one of the angelic weapons Carmilla had on her wall. Who bloody puts angelic weapons on a wall by overlords who want to overthrow each other. Has Carmilla ever heard of common sense?

But no, the real reason Velvette came to these stupid things was the one time she skipped it. She missed them planning a goddamn overthrow of one of the most annoying overlords ever. She missed out on taking lots of lands and souls, and she had to listen to Vox's bullshit for days. He kept invading every one of her screens just to lecture her.

So that was why she was here in this goddamn room with Carmilla fucking Carmine. God, if she could gut one person in hell.

"Velvette! Would it kill you to show some respect!" Carmilla screamed.

Now this was it, Velvette finally snapped, "Please, why should respect an old geezer who fucks a goddamn spider!"

The room went instantly silent, aside from several gasps.

Yep, Velvette had finally done it; she was going to fucking die. And by Carmilla no less. Fucking Carmilla! Carmilla's powers were overflowing, and the rage was boiling on her face. Her powers were suffocating. The only thing left for her was to grab a weapon. Wait, Carmilla was a weapon. Yep, she was going to die. She was going to fucking die by Carmilla Carmine, of all people. And now the last words she was ever going to hear in this life were going to come from Carmilla.

There they were. Deathly calm, Carmilla said, "Velvette, you've crossed a line, and now."

"Ha ha, oh my fucking god. You have to be kidding me." Who the hell said that? It was one of the prettiest voices Velvette had ever heard but also one of the dumbest. Who in their right goddamn mind would interrupt Carmilla when she was going to kill her. "Mamá!"

Wait, mamá! Mamá! One of Carmine's brats saved her?! Her of all people. Why? All the Carmine's despised her. Right? "Odette, Not now!" Carmine shrieked.

Odette. The blonde one with glasses. She always looked frigid and cold and never showed any emotion. Even when Velvette had accused her mom of killing an angel. But now, unlike her usual self, she looked flushed, worried, and scared. But she still went on, "Mamá, you can't kill her. Vox and Valentino would go after you. It would be a huge turf war. Plus, they would turn other overlords against you. Please, mamá, don't do this!"

She was beautiful. Stunning. Brave. The flush on her cheeks was the most adorable thing Velvette had ever seen. And her voice, Velvette would've sold her soul just to hear it for one more minute. She was fucked. She needed Odette, beautiful and stunning Odette. Odette, who was sticking up for her. Velvette could see through all of Odette's bullshit and knew that Odette didn't give a fuck about a turf war. Hell, based on the rumors about the Carmines, they would bloody enjoy a turf war. No, Odette wanted to save her. But why?

"Fine!" Carmilla snapped, "Meeting dismissed."

And with that, Carmilla grabbed, no dragged, her daughters out of the room. After that, all the other overlords dashed out of the room, leaving Velvette. Her mouth was wide open, and her mind still reeling from the fact that a Carmine, no Odette, had saved her. But now it seemed that all Velvette could think of was the cute blond. God, what was she going to do.

Chapter 2: A Longtime Crush

#odette carmine #velvette x odette #hazbin hotel odette #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette

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ladysomething · 9 months ago

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EXCUSE YOU MA'AM

Mads. what the fuck.

hun. I have. questions. I have thoughts. I have everything but tiredness and I'm supposed to be sleeping. I have a job to go to tomorrow. instead of that guess what I'm doing. I'm crawling on my roof. I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclousure. I'm in your walls actually.

let's go back to my 5+1 format. today is maybe 4 things for real.

1. I was. on the beach. ON THE BEACH. with my mom. and my dad. AND my brother. I was asleep before I saw the chapter. I had. a fucking alcoholic beverage in my hand. my family kinda assumed fighting karens at my job finally caught me and I had gone insane. maybe screaming bloody murder after I was asleep was a little bit worrying (two german dudes came to see if I was or had some kind of drug. I didn't). but Peter and Dante got me. I wanna have them. in front of me so that I can do some stress release.

2. the outfit is like. slutty slutty or just slutty. I never kind of understood the heels. are they like one of those that look like "roman" sandals? if you know what I mean. the ones that wish death upon your feet the moment you see them through the window that also are insufferable to wear because of the little strips or how exactly. show me your brain. c'mon don't be shy. I just wanna have a look. on how the fuck this thing goes. obviously not for a spoilers objective. surely not because of that.

3. fuck Fred and fuck Ferrari and fuck sponsors. in all honesty, fuck everyone but Jimmy and Sassy. oh and that reminds me

4. I hate you. (I don't) why would you work me up that fucking much and then leave me there. you're like a bf I had in college that left when we were about to have sex because he remembered he had an assignment due the next day and he had to finish like half of the thing. asshole.

+1 had it been anyone else, I would go on to say I'm proud to say I saw the Carlos thing coming. but is you. I cannot trust you. you're the real unreliable narrator. I'm sure I'll get a whiplash of the bunch of plot twist that this thing has.

+2 I was not going to text you about my issues with the operation of ao3 but after I faced a Charles fucking Dickens tag AGAIN I decided that maybe I will. it was all to protect my identity because I'm batman (I do not know how to use tumblr either, you'll soon find out) but who cares now. the PTSD is real now. if I ever find Charles Dickens again on ao3 I'll scoop my eyeballs with a spoon.

thanks for coming to my ted talk. also great chapter as always hun. I need wednesdays to come faster now.

😂😂😂

not today still being 6 things hahaha

well look. sorry not sorry but breaking that "fanfic readers can read anything in public with a straight face" really brings me immense joy. and I'm glad Dante and Peter hit as hard for you as they did for me

here is the Inso behind the shoes. do with that info what you will.

honestly ???? fuck Max and fuck Charles while we're at it. idiots.

don't worry. you will be gratified soon enough.

+1 hahahah the Carlos thing is ... I mean. it's a thing! that happened! that will be expanded upon next chapter!

+2 truly I am begging you. message me. you do not need to suffer the horror of the Charles Dickens tag!!!! I will guide you in the glorious ways of ao3.

#anon ask #where you go i go #wygig: max #wygig: charles #wygig: the great war

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martinibreakfast · 6 months ago

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Devotion Comes in Sets of Three - 1/3

He knew her by heart before he knew her by face. Born knowing her, born to know her.

Dick did not have the fortune of meeting her for the first time when Bruce dragged the filthy, wine eyed girl into the Batcave. For him, there was no first-time meeting. How could there be? How could one introduce themselves to the second half of their own soul? Dick was youthful and bright that night, the daring age of twelve. Yet, when their eyes crossed, suddenly he remembered swaying in the winds of Babylon’s hanging gardens. She too was there, by the flowing water. Mouth red and wet, pomegranate juice weeping down her chin. He reminisced on his times fighting on the front lines of a Parisians war, following a young girl into battle. This Joan of Arc was not golden haired and of white flesh, however. A stream of ink-dark hair poured down the back of her silver, godly amour, and her skin was sun-kissed and loved by the autumn hues. When their eyes crossed, an ancientness sunk into his bones. Recognition beyond that of bloodline and time was a heavy thing.

The Washington Case is closed. But I fear this is only the beginning of things, Chum.

Casey Washington had been missing for eleven years after the sudden death of her father, Eric Washington. Not only was Miss Washington missing, but her two-year-old daughter, Sarah Washington, was also one of Gotham’s strange and odd disappearance cases. Only the young girl in Batman’s hold was not Sarah Washington. She was simply too young.

Who’s she? Why is she here? In the Cave, I mean.

Batman forced himself and the girl deeper into the cave, closer to where the medical ward was held; like in the gardens, in Paris, Dick followed. There was a limp to the Dark Knight’s stride and his hands left bloody cuffs around the girl’s cotton sleeves. Like the son of god, someone had tried to nail the hands of Batman to the cross.

They called her Athena. Her mother did not name her Athena.

Batman, I don’t think I understand…

I am not asking you to understand, Dick.

Bruce never addressed him by his civilian name when in front of strange company. Dick felt himself stiffed, his stomach turn. This girl or rather, whatever conception of this girl bought with her, had disturbed Bruce in a way that left him besides himself.

Chum. Bruce corrected his tone, his fear. I will explain everything. One day. Right now, I ask for you to trust me. Do you trust me, Robin?

The whites of Robin’s domino mask burnt through the shadows cast by the Bat. The girl was quiet, doll-like. Lifeless.

Of course I trust you.

Good. Now, get on the table. We need to remove your teeth.

It had been thirteen years since that faithful night. Over that time, Dick had developed a nasty habit of tonguing at the bare gums of his missing molar.

A heavy hand warmed the deep bow of his back and Dick curled tighter into himself and the cocoon of sheets he had formed. For late autumn, the nights were already insufferable.

Vienna hated the cold, moreso then Dick had any right to.

“When do you think she will be back this time?” Dick whispered into the night.

“You tell me, kid.” Slade rumbled back, voice thick with a sort of half sleep. He thumbed the bridge of Dick’s spine, nonetheless. “You’re the one who fought with her. God knows what trouble that nasty mouth of yours has caused.”

Dick pawed at the covers, tearing them off the both of them in frustration. “I’m going out to look for her. This is ridiculous.”

Slade groaned. “Leave her. You know she needs space when it comes to this shit.”

“I thought you said you don’t know what we fought about.”

“I may have not been raised by the world’s greatest detective.” The terminator dragged a large palm over the lines of his face. He looked so handsome under the moonlight. Dick wanted to kiss him, and have him kiss Dick back, and kiss away all this tragic, saintly guilt. “But it doesn’t take a genius to know that you and Vienna only fight when The Bat is involved.”

Dick kept still, kept quiet. Shamefully, he held his gaze down low, hoping his heated stare would warm the wood beneath the soles of his feet. It was so cold tonight. His tongue found the gasps between his back teeth. His hands found the gasps between the bed sheets. A missing tooth, a missing third.

“What does Wayne want this time? The location to Luthor’s latest cloning project?”

“Don’t.” Dick snapped. “Don’t you dare. We don’t trade information about our line of work, Slade. That’s the rule – that’s the one rule.”

“Easy, Grayson.” The older man warned, his fingers curled around the right side of Dick’s waist. It was comforting. Only, in the same way Saint Sebastion found the arrowhead buried between two ribs comforting. It was a cautionary contentment. With two simple words, Slade had laid his cards down flat on the table. With two words, he promised a definite outcome if Dick chose to ignore his mercy.

“I don’t care about whatever silly criminal the Dark Knight wants to sic you two on like a pair of hounds. But I am curious as to why the bastard can’t send an email like he usually does.”

“You’re old – you should know the one about how curiosity killed the cat, right?”

Slade kissed the knot between Dick’s shoulder blades. “Old enough to know the proverb ends with satisfaction brought it back. Now spill, kid.”

“It’s not…Court related. Not this time, anyway.” Dick whispered, and he threw a nervous look over his shoulder to his lounging lover. “But it’s eerily similar. A copycat, maybe? Bruce doesn’t know. Tim thinks it’s the League of Assassins but –”

“But Wayne wants – what god-awful name did they have for you two, again?”

“Which one?” Dick snorted. It was hollow and tasteless. “The Gray Son of Gotham? The Lady of Owls, Athena? The Messiahs of Barbatos – the Divine Judge and her Grand Executor?”

“Hmm”, Slade hummed in understanding. “Our girl is divine... But fuck, you’d make for a terrible executor, Grayson. These Prophets sound like a bunch of circus hacks.”

“Oi. Leave the circus out of it.”

Slade ignored him, choosing to follow through with his previous line of thought.

“But Wayne wants the messiahs to confirm what is going bump in Gotham’s night?”

“Yeah, our blood kinda – I don’t know? – responds to things? Vienna knows more than me, growing up with her dad, and later the Court and all. Shit sometimes glowsaround us. It’s totally creepy. Bruce needs us in person to see if he can get a reaction out of the crime scene.”

“Sounds romantic.” Slade drawled and the hints of an old Kentucky accent wound his words with a southern tang.

“Don’t get jealous.” Dick teased as he dressed himself in shadows of the night. Vienna and Dick had fought, much as lovers with trying histories and conflicting opinions do. But Nightwing and Athena were partners – the Patron Saints of Blüdhaven. If anyone was going to find her, bring her home and tuck into the space between himself and Slade, it would be Nightwing.

“The three of us can have date night when we get back.” The domino mark sat tight around his eyes, but Dick was sure his older lover could taste the promise on the air without needing the assurance shared with a glance. “Right now, though? I need to find Vienna.”

“Go get our girl, Grayson.” Slade said, and he sprawled back out into the sheets like some sated king. “And be quick about it. You know how much I like my little birds when they come in pairs of two.”

The night was old and cold, and the smell of morning dew clung to the city’s air and clouded the skyline. Their apartment was a tall, rickety thing, but the hung balcony attached to their bedroom was a delight to leap from. Nightwing flew from one apartment complex to the other, the heart of Blüdhaven in his sight.

#martinisforbreakfast #my fic #sladick #throuple #oc #part 1

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