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irb-pascalito-99 · 9 months ago

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Fleeting Paradise

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Smut, somnophilia, oral both m!receiving and f!receiving, face sitting, overstimulation, squirting

Summary: Their weekend alone is ending, and Joel’s girl decides to wakes him up in the best way possible.

A/N: This is an excerpt from Chapter 13 of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more visit my a03.

The night sky starts to turn a powder blue color as dawn approaches. Joel is still asleep beneath my head. A pit in my sumac grows at the thought of our time coming to an end. Ellie and Sarah will be back this afternoon, and Joel and I will be forced to return to our normal secrecy.

I’m excited to see Ellie again, and to hear all about how their trip went, but I will also miss this. Joel’s gentle snores in the morning air. Walking around the house without concern about who might be lurking behind the corner. The freedom to exist without someone relying on me. I’m not ready for it to end.

My fingers brush gently against Joel’s skin. He looks so peaceful right now. I press a kiss to his chest, and another. I can feel his hardness poking into my thigh beneath the covers. Suddenly I feel a wetness gathering between my legs.

It’s so early in the morning. I should probably let him continue to sleep, but I think back to what we had talked about the other morning. I’m sure he’ll be fine with the early morning wake up call.

I crawl carefully down his body, slipping beneath the covers slowly so as not to wake him. I listen closely to the sounds of his heavy breathing as I position myself between his legs. I have to be careful not to wake him if this is going to work.

When I hear him snore again I press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock as a test. His length twitches at the stimulation, but otherwise he doesn’t stir. I take it as my opportunity to continue, softly grazing the underside of his cock with my tongue.

I keep my hands in the sheets on either side of his hips, worried that grabbing him may wake him up. I want to keep this going for as long as possible.

He’s still not moving or showing signs of waking up, so I continue to lick along his length. Once I’m confident he’s not going to wake up I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and slowly sink him into my mouth. I keep the pace slow and gentle, swirling my tongue around him as I take him deeper.

I feel him pulse in my mouth and suddenly he shifts, a soft groan escaping his lips. I freeze, thinking he’s finally woken up, but his snores continue. I pick up the pace a little, just enough to feel him twitch more but not enough to stir him from sleep.

I can hear his breathing get deeper as I continue, his member pulsing in my mouth. I pull him deeper in my mouth as he finally starts to wake. I feel his hands reach out across the top of the covers as he mumbles my name, followed by a loud groan as he comes in my mouth.

He’s still partially asleep, unable to make sense of the pleasure coursing through his body as I welcome the ribbons of spend down my throat. His hands grip the blankets as his hips twitch.

“Fuckk,” he groans as his cock twitches once more. I pull off of him with a pop and climb up his chest so he can see me.

When my head pops out of the covers he opens his eyes fully for the first time, the sunrise starting to shine through the window. He grabs my chin with his fingers and pulls it down.

“Show me,” he growls. I open my mouth to show the evidence of him still on my tongue. He groans and pulls his fingers away. “Swallow it honey,”

I do as he says and then open my mouth again to show him. Immediately he pulls me in for a kiss, licking into my mouth.

“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles when he pulls away, his voice still raspy from waking up. I giggle and kiss the patch in his beard.

He wraps around my waist and pulls me to lay down on top of him. I let him keep me there, my head raising and lowering on his chest with each of his breaths. We watch the soft colors in the sky make way for the brightness of the sun. I sigh, Joel’s fingers running circles in my skin underneath the shirt I stole from him to sleep in.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks. I bite my lip and look at the clock.

“I just don’t want this to end,” I say. He looks over at the clock as well and then flips it over so neither of us can see the time anymore.

“So let’s ignore that then,” His fingers play with my hair as his eyes peer into mine. “Just stay here, with me. Let me repay you for this morning.”

Joel pushes me to climb further up his body, positioning my hips above his head. I grip the headboard and tremble as he attempts to pull me down onto his mouth.

“Joel-“ I protest, unsure how I feel about sitting on his face. His fingers grip my hips harder.

“It’s okay baby, I can handle it.” He pulls my hips down again and I slowly let myself into his face. His nose bumps against my clit as he begins to lick down my center.

I hover there, letting him eat me with my hands gripping the bed frame. He slowly swirls his tongue through my folds. Once I’ve left defenses rest he shoves my hips down the remainder of the way, forcing me to put my whole weight down, as he starts to hungrily lap at my core. I throw my head back and moan at the contact, my fingers leaving indents in the wood of the headboard as he hums against me.

He thrusts his tongue inside me and curls it just perfectly enough to hit that spot that makes me squirm. I cry out and grind against his face which only spurs him on more. He reaches his right hand around to start drawing circles on my clit as I rock back and forth.

An intense pressure builds inside me as he works me higher, onscene squelching sounds filling the air with my moans. I try to pull away when I feel it approaching, the overwhelming pressure that can only mean one thing, but Joel feels it too and keeps me planted above him.

He moves his fingers and mouth at a rapid pace until I let go, gushing all over his face as a spray of liquid escapes me. He groans and takes as much as he can in his mouth, lapping it down until I have to pull him away.

I collapse onto the bed next to him and he pulls a hand up to his face, wiping my juices from his beard. I can taste myself on his lips when he pulls me in for a kiss.

To read more visit my a03.

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justalittlebitbored · 1 year ago

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late nights - remus lupin

willow tree: part three excerpt

pairing/au: marauders era, remus lupin x reader

summary: you wake up to knocking on your window in the middle of the night on the night of the full moon. who else could it be but your werewolf best friend covered in blood.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, sadness, fluff, friends to lovers, childhood best friends to lovers. no use of y/n.

wc: 2.3k

a/n: RIGHT, this is an excerpt from my series willow tree, I wrote this in May when I was properly writing and sadly I started this series and I love it so much but I honestly don’t have the effort to keep writing. This scene however is such a pure wholesome scene and I’m sure those who have read the series will love it but I also think it can be a really good oneshot concept so enjoy!!!

To those who haven’t read willow tree, I don’t think u need too to understand this but I shall give context in case:

Reader and remus = besties. Reader realises she loves him, ‘unrequited’ love high jinks ensue, so she distances herself a little bit. Remus hasn’t come to reader during a full moon in a while as the marauders has started to care for him, in this one shit he comes to reader instead of

series masterlist main masterlist

Hearing a loud banging noise at your window was not quite the surprise you were expecting in the middle of the night.

Your curtains were closed but the motion sent them fluttering towards you. A million thoughts crossed your mind. What if someone was breaking in to rob you, what if you-

You heard a loud groan and then a vague, deep voice said your name. Was that Remus? Your name was said a bit louder this time. Yup that was definitely Remus. What on earth would he be doing here at this time of night?

You ran to the window and pulled the curtains open.

His bloodied body hung outside, his face leaning again the window ledge. Crap. Your fingers pulled the latch open before you could process your actions, the breeze caused the window to fly inwards nearly hitting you in the face.

"Remus!"

You grabbed his hands and attempted to drag his heavy body through the window. With his help you managed to pull him in. His body immediately slumped against yours and your knees nearly buckled under his weight. He was definitely heavier since the last time he had climbed through that window.

Managing to drag his body over to the bed, you led him down as gently as you could.

"Fuck. Remus what happened?"

Whilst running to close the window you nearly tripped on your clothes that you had taken off earlier that night and couldn't be bothered to put in your wash basket and nearly slammed your head on the radiator. Managing to close the window you immediately turned around and headed towards the bed and knelt down to grab the first aid kit that you were sure was under there somewhere.

"Come on you're here somewhere I know you are."

Although pleading with the first aid kit probably didn't do much it was more of a way to calm you down.

The boy on the bed let out a large groan and you could feel the sweat on the back of your neck begin to form and your hands beginning to clam up. Your fingers brushed against something hard. Aha, you found it. You curled your fingers around the handle and pulled it out whilst quickly standing up and placing it on the bed.

Remus let out a large groan and his arms curled around his middle as he looked like he was writhing in pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You had forgotten it was a full moon, you usually kept track of it but this month you must have forgotten, this wasn't a job you had done in a long time, the marauders mainly looked after him now. You hadn't seen him on a full moon in nearly two years except this one time in sixth year where he had ended outside your dorm under the willow tree by your window. By the time you had gotten out of bed and looked outside his friends were carrying him away.

Although James did shout a goodbye at you waving his hands fervently, apologising loudly.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." You hadn't done this in a long time and were quite out of practice. He had long deep gashes on his chest and shallower ones on his arms.

What do I do? What did he want me to do? Fuck.

"Remus, I don't know what to do. What do I do?" You asked, your hands shaking as your hovered them above his abdomen.

"I trust you. Just-" He grunted loudly. "-clean me up or something." He said loudly as he began to turn over onto his side.

"Okay? Okay. Right, should be easy enough?" You let out a long breath.

It's fine, it's going to be fine, you done this plenty of times before. What's the difference between now and then.

You quickly got to work cleaning his wounds with a wet rag, apologising as you went along every time he groaned.

You apologised a whole lot more when you had to apply hydrogen peroxide so that it didn't get infected. He let out cries of pain and your eyes stung with tears, you hated seeing him this way.

After quickly working for about twenty minutes you were finally finished. You walked over to your chest of drawers and pulled out a new t shirt and joggers for him. They were his that he had left round at yours before during movie nights. You would help him put the shirt on but you weren't so sure about the trousers, so you decided to leave those on the chair by your desk for now in case he had enough energy to get up and change into them himself.

"Hey, Remus." His eyes opened and he blinked at you softly so you continued. "Hi. Can you sit up for me for a moment so I can put this on you?" His attention was drawn to the top in your hands, he shuffled forward to edge of your bed and you attempted to get him into it.

His head leaned against your chest as he weakly lifted his arms up, eventually after a struggle you managed to get him in it.

He slumped back and you stood awkwardly at the side of your bed, you didn't know what to do now.

You let out a big breath you didn't realise you were holding in as your eyes began to close from how tired you were. You began to walk away to sit in your chair before you heard Remus call your name.

"Stay."

"I'm sorry?" You were confused.

"Can you stay? With me... in the bed." You blinked.

"Please?" He said with a tired chuckle. You could see him give you a meek smile, he looked exhausted, dark circles lining his eyes.

"Sure, yeah. Okay."

You slowly walked towards the bed unsure of where to go. He moved forward, opening a space behind him. You slowly climbed in, your back leaning again the pillow. He was sat up against the wall obviously in pain.

Hesitating for a moment, you placed your hand in his limp one and gently tugged, pulling him towards you.

You hoped he wouldn't say no or look at you funny.

Without saying anything he instantly fell forward, his head on your chest. You could feel his body immediately deflate. You hadn't done this in a long time; before fifth year this would happen every full moon, it was almost a ritual. You would clean him up and then he would lay his head on your chest and you both would cuddle until morning.

"I'm sorry. I don't like it when you see me like this." The words gently left his mouth. Your hand instantly flew to the back of his head, your fingers scratching at his head in a comforting motion. It was instinctual and you didn't realise you had done this until he left let out a soft whimper.

"It's okay, I don't mind." You whispered.

"I do. You don't need this burden on your shoulders." He said with a harsh tone, not directed at you though, you could tell he was aiming it at himselt.

"Hey, my shoulders are yours to use." You smiled softly at him. "Listen to me okay, I don't mind. I would rather you come to me and be safe than lie out there in those woods by yourself. Anytime you need me I will be there."

A harsh exhale left his mouth.

"Thank you. I don't know what I would've done tonight without you." He looked up at me.

You had lied before, saying you had never seen anything as beautiful as the sunset. You had, and you were looking into them right now, Remus' deep golden brown eyes.

For a moment you think he's going to kiss you. His eyes dart to your lips before flickering up to your eyes again. Before he could do anything he smiles, almost sadly before resting his head on you, his head eyes dart to your lips before flickering up to your eyes again. Before he could do anything he smiles, almost sadly before resting his head on you, his head nuzzling against you chest.

"You were asleep, I'm sorry I woke you." He apologised.

"It's okay, I was awake." You lied, you were asleep but he already felt guilty enough you didn't want to make him feel any worse. He said okay quietly into your chest. After a couple minutes of comfortable silence he spoke again.

"I've missed you." He whispered into your chest.

You hands paused for a moment from its action of scratching the back of his head before promptly continuing.

"I'm right here."

He whispered again in a low voice. "I know, I've just missed you."

You didn't know how to respond to that so you just kept running your hands through his hair and after a while his breathing became steady and you assumed he'd fallen asleep.

You had missed him too, even with all of this weird tension and distance. You had missed him too. Your birthday was the only time recently where things had felt normal.

The way you were both led on your bed was anything but platonic but you didn't mind, he hadn't been this close to you in so long. You leant down and pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before leaning your head backward with a loud sigh. Eventually your eyes began to droop and before you knew it you had fallen asleep too.

You woke up in the morning to Remus shaking you softly. Your eyes fluttered open in confusion as your vision began to clear.

"Hi sweetheart." He smiled at you gently. "I need to go, thank you for looking after me. I'll see you later today okay."

Your brain wasn't functioning and your groggy mind couldn't bring you to do anything but produce a soft whimper, you were not a morning person.

His hand cupped your cheek and you leant into it, your lips almost brushing his palm in a soft kiss, whilst his other hand brushed your hair out of your eyes gently. Although you were in a state you could still make out the soft smile he gave you. He let out a shaky breath before leaning down and pressing lingering kiss against your forehead.

He moved away towards your window, you turned to your side to watch him turn around and look at you again for a long moment before turning and climbing out the window. You heard a soft click soon after.

You wish you had more time to think about what had happened but you were too tired to think and the next thing you knew you were out like a light.

After god knows how long your body jolted upright.

Remus was here last night, right? You looked to the side where a bloody rag led on your bedside table along with an opened first aid kit. He was here last night, you hadn't imagined it so you certainly didn't imagine him waking you up to say goodbye.

He called you sweetheart. God, he called you sweetheart. A small involuntary smile was on your face as you pushed your covers away and got out of bed. Your mouth was dry and you desperately need a glass of water so you walked out of your room with a stupid smile on your face and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop.

You walked into the kitchen hoping to get a glass of water when you saw Lily sat at the counter eating some toast. Your quietly wished her a good morning as you headed towards the cupboard to grab a glass.

"What were all those sounds last night?" Lily asked.

You froze, you didn't know how to approach this really since you knew that she would read into this situation and give it a deeper meaning and you really couldn't be asked for that right now.

You slowly turned around, grabbing a glass leaving the forefront of your mind.

"Umm... nothing it was just-" She raised her eyebrows and you knew there was no point in lying about it.

"It was Remus. It was the full moon last night and he just turned up, I didn't know what to do so I just cleaned him up."

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

"Oh. So is he still here or?" She questioned, an innocent look on her face.

"No. He's gone now."

She hummed. "So did you guys-"

"No!" You exclaimed cutting her off. "Nothing happened. Don't look at me like that Lily. Nothing happened, it was just one friend patching up another friend."

You really thought that she was going to ask more questions but she didn't say much but look at you with a knowing smile. You didn't know what game she was playing at, but you were glad she wasn't asking any questions.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

You cleared your throat. "Right I should probably go and shower, you know aet ready for the day."

"Okaaay."

You turned around and hurried to your room, she knew what she was doing. If you spent a moment longer with you she would work her magic and make you spill all of your feelings to her. She was weirdly good at that.

You slammed your door shut and stood with your back pressed to it as you took a deep breath.

Okay.

enjoy yall!

taglist:

@diorgirl444 @starkluvrr @theweasleyskettle @milkteeboba @blakeblue01 @starqwerty20 @iluvfetuszarry @raindropstearsandtea @katsuniverse @middle-of-the-earth @speedunkle @mypeace4 @garfieldsladybird @welnasynchbest @marauders-eras @4rt3m1ss @poetsneil @stained-tea-cup @aki-chan-20 @hawkinsavclub1983 @spxcekru @stars-havefallen @hisparentsgallerryy @st4r-girl-official @po55um @taylorann2013 @potseluymenya @oloorado @poetrypirate @solnare @xxvelvetxxxx @ireneop

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queer-reader-07 · 25 days ago

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favorite books

congratulations! you've unlocked the special interest!

since you said books (plural) who knows when this list will end!

my forever number ones:

Dune by Frank Herbert - this is like my one fav i can never quite articulate because it's just. so perfect to me. it changed my life though and i love it with my whole heart.

The Feeling of Falling in Love by Mason Deaver - this is the book i'm known for. this is the book i've gotten enough people to read that i've lost count. this is the book i've gained friendships because of. it's a t4t YA romcom that is equal parts tender, loving, emotional growth and absolute tomfoolery. i love it so dearly i genuinely cannot express to you how much i love this book it is my main special interest outside of chemistry i am being so serious.

sci fi & fantasy favs:

Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler - ok it's more spec fic than anything but you get the point. this book is about radical hope and its importance in the face of despair and oppression. set in 2024, written in the 90s, required reading if you haven't already. also "god is change" fundamentally altered my approach to deconstruction so there's that too.

Masters of Death by Olivie Blake - like a gaiman novel but written by a good person! very gay, very messy, literal games of the gods. your main character is a vampire real estate agent and she wants to sell this haunted house but the ghost haunting it won't leave. the godson of Death is like a cunty asshole but you also kind of love him? god it's an insane premise and i LOVE it.

The Ninth Rain by Jen Williams - this is what epic fantasy should be. the MC is like what if indiana jones was a Black lesbian and it absolutely rocks. empires on the brink of collapse, potential incoming apocalypse, running from the authorities, all the good stuff.

contemporary and litfic favs:

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong - i read this for the first time as a newly discovered queer 15 year old in my gender in lit and film class and my one memory from that experience is hearing my teacher read the line "do you think we'll be fags forever?" out loud and me immediately crying. i've since reread it and that line still ruins me, but it's also just a phenomenal exploration of queerness in the midst of being raised by and being an immigrant in White america. vuong writes this novel as a letter to a mother who the author knows cannot read english, which is art if i ever saw it. vuong is a poet writing prose and it shows in the most beautiful way.

If You Still Recognize Me by Cynthia So - this is for the fandom girlies (gn)!!! there's a bit where our MC says something to the effect of "i can't wait to read her fic and type out a comment saying 'i hate you for ruining my life!!' when really i mean 'i love you i love you i love you'" AND IT GOT ME IN MY FEELS. anyway this book had me like that one spider-man meme.

Old Enough by Haley Jakobson - i bring you an excerpt from my review: This novel is for the cringefail queers. It's for the young queers. It's for the queers who tried a little too hard when they came out. It's for the queers who tried to hold onto their closeted life in one way or another for a little too long. It's for the queers who feel that they never really came of age; the ones who maybe still are. What I'm saying is, this book is for me. It's about me in many ways.

Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin - a queer classic for a reason. this novel explores masculinity through repressed queerness and self loathing and i think it altered my brain chemistry in the process. such a poignant and tragic piece of literature.

nonfic favs:

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin - this book unironically changed my life, baldwin is a genius. my copy is marked up to shit and i'm sure when i inevitably reread it i will mark it up even more. i immediately described this book as "timeless and thought provoking" upon finishing and i stand by that. this book was published over 60 years ago but so much of it still rings true. it's largely memoir, told through letters. it touches on race, masculinity, religion, and in many ways, radical hope.

Freedom is a Constant Struggle by Angela Y Davis - required reading for any leftist in my opinion. this emphasizes the important of collectivities and community care when organizing and fighting injustice. genuinely this novel reshaped the way i view community care (what it means, how to do it, etc etc). a foundational text on abolition and organizing as well. it emphasizes how freedom movements and fights for liberation are inherently connected. this book's thesis is "freedom for all or freedom for none" and by god it does a damn good job of communicating that.

“Whenever you conceptualize social justice struggles, you will always defeat your own purposes if you cannot imagine the people around whom you are struggling as equal partners.”

The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green - this book is part memoir, part love letter to the human story and i loved every moment of it. i think of how john reminds you in this novel that while not being able to see your future may mean not foreseeing the horrors, it also means not foreseeing the joy and wonder that awaits you. i think of how he describes hope as a "prerequisite for my survival" and how that has grown into the core of my politic. i think of how this book taught me that cynicism is unsustainable and we do a disservice to ourselves and each other when we give into it

special categories of favs specifically for the books about being mixed race that made me feel seen and real:

A Mind Spread Out on the Ground by Alicia Elliot - i wrote a whole essay about this one chapter out of this book because of how much it resonated but, in short: this is a sobering memoir to say the least. elliot tells the story of her life as a mixed race, First Nations indigenous woman through a collection of essays. she covers topics such as colonialism, racism and racialization, and misogyny. there's this one essay in particular that will always stick out to me personally as a mixed person, Half-Breed: A Racial Biography in Five Parts. it explores this specific grief around being mixed, around having privilege your non mixed family doesn't, around having to use that privilege to protect them. it's the best literary explanation i have ever found for the feelings i've held for so long. overall though, this novel is a great example for what i mean when i say the person is political. just, really good all around if you're looking for memoir.

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett - i read this book for the first time when i was like 15 and i really ought to revisit it but i remember being stopped dead in my tracks by how accurate the exploration of race in America was. how it explores the way that race is oftentimes less about your personal identity and more about how others perceive you (what does it mean to pass as white? how can and do some mixed people use that ability? what does that say about our society and our history?).

This Place is Still Beautiful by Xixi Tian - many of the same themes as The Vanishing Half but YA and more accessible! this one resonated particularly well with me as it follows two sisters, both White & Chinese, and their experiences with their racial identity. one sister looks "more Asian" and the other looks "more White" and the way that played out felt like a mirror to my life, i saw in them the same feelings i've felt every time someone told me my brother "just looks so much more Japanese" than me. and to see those struggles in a teen, to know that my experience wasn't isolated? it was so meaningful, revolutionary even.

ok that's all for now, i'm almost certainly forgetting some but these are all favs of mine <3

#books #book recs #asks #my asks

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amywritesthings · 10 months ago

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SILVER UNDERGROUND / deleted scene 05.

gifts are gifts. :: a deleted scene that was originally meant to take place during flashback: seven. james and levi spar and have a verbal argument after reuniting.

this one is such a doozy. i had this one sitting on a page in draft prison because this was my initial plan of their 'reunion'. yes, spoiler alert, the ignoring was going to last three whole chapters. this is so far removed from the deep bond james/levi shared, and much more in the vein of the first 10 chapters. this is also before i decided erwin's recruitment offer extended to james. i read this back and i'm like oh my god?! you can really tell i wrote the story completely out of order with this excerpt! this is unedited. 970 words / explicit language, fighting. :: please remember: this is additional deleted content, not tied to the current canon of the story.

“You need to get rid of that.”

Your head feels fuzzy from the impact of solid ground beneath it. “What?”

Levi grits his teeth, emphasizing every word. “Get. Rid. Of it.”

He reaches for the necklace. You react just in time to forcefully smack his hand away and push up, up until your palm connects with his throat.

“Gifts are gifts, asshole,” you grunt, squeezing his neck.

Levi doesn’t react to the abrupt violence. If anything, he leans into the assault.

“You don’t get to suddenly disappear on me and then make demands.”

“Technically — all that superiors do — is make commands,” he chokes out, finally flinching when you squeeze harder.

“Smith made me a Lieutenant.”

“That doesn’t mean shit in the Scouts,” he spits. “And technically still — under me.”

In more ways than one.

You growl, pushing at his neck one more time before letting go. Levi bows his head, giving you both a moment to catch your breath in the aftermath of the spar. His matted hair hangs over his forehead, hiding his eyes where you lay.

He doesn’t opt to move away. You’re trapped under him.

Then he speaks without an edge.

“Join the MPs.”

You stare up, frowning. “I can’t. You know that.”

“There’s still time to convince Erwin you’re innocent.”

He must sense the shift of the fight, because he lifts his chin just enough to regard you from under his eyelids. Your lips part with an unknown question.

“I didn’t tell them about you. It must have been Isabel.”

Her name hangs like lead off of his tongue.

You pause, nostrils flaring with contempt. “How do you know it wasn’t Furlan?”

“Because Isabel didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut,” he replies. If you’re not careful, then you may project a rueful hint to his tone. “Furlan never left my side.”

(Loyal to the end, and for what?)

“What are you saying, Ackerman?”

“You’ve always wanted to see the surface, right?” You don’t nod, but he continues as if you’ve acknowledged him beyond furrowed brows. “I argue that you only worked for us once because of some naive obsession with the surface. Isabel likely felt the need to drag you under the bus thinking it would buy her some unfounded favor from Erwin. He could believe that.”

Your stomach clenches at the implication of his lie.

“You would do that to her name?”

“She’s dead, James.” Callous, without doubt; Levi shifts his hold on your wrists to your forearms. “You’re not.”

You sink into the ground, deflating against his hold. “So I’d get transferred by the good graces of Commander Erwin and, what? Leave you here?”

Something flashes in his eyes, but he decides this time not to answer on impulse. Here in this proximity, you can hear him taking calculated breaths through his nose — inhale, exhale, controlled and slow.

“It’s your best option to surv—”

“No.”

The soft and certain answer cuts through his next argument. Levi freezes like you’ve confessed to being part-titan this whole time — his short-circuiting bewilderment is loud and screaming in your face when he refuses to speak candidly.

He looks like a teenager again, the starry night sky your makeshift backdrop of an Underground you both deserted.

His eyes narrow. “No?”

Your growing smile surges that terrible temper back on the sparring grounds. He lets go of your arms — a fatal mistake — to gather the strap of your chest harness into a closed fist. When he drags you up to meet him, you easily follow.

“Furlan is gone. Isabel is gone. What don’t you fucking get about that, you shithead?” he speaks through clenched teeth, fist trembling. “You lived and you’re pissing that away.”

Just when he thinks he has the upper hand, yours shoots out — quickly you grab his own chest harness, bringing him directly down to you.

Nose to nose.

The proximity catches your long-lost friend off guard.

(Levi Ackerman is good at many things. Being comfortable with someone in his face in a non-violent setting was never one of them.)

“Do you think,” you begin in a murmur, “that I really give a shit about living a life on the surface if that means you’re not a part of it?”

His gray pupils grow black.

“I’ve lost you twice now—”

“James.”

“—let me finish, you… arrogant little shit,” you breathe, and for once in Levi Ackerman’s life, he listens. Intently, it seems, because he won’t stop staring at your face. “I’m — we are out of the Underground. Captains, Lieutenants — maybe they’re both arbitrary titles and fucking ridiculous, but they can mean something. I now have a chance to do something.”

“You have a chance to get yourself killed,” he mumbles. “This isn’t the time to become a fucking idealist. This is war.”

“And this is my choice.” Warmth spreads through your system at the tickle of his breath on your face. “Maybe I didn’t choose the Scouts, but I did choose—”

You.

You’ve been brave up until this point, but now you can’t say it. Not when Levi’s still so close. His nose accidentally brushes yours, and he shoves you — hard — back into the ground to break your grip on his harness.

Like a frightened animal, he quickly sits back on his calves to steer clear of your reach. By the time you can see straight, he’s already standing tall.

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” he spits with venom, “but you’re making a mistake for a person that doesn’t exist.” Levi collects himself, straightening his chest harness straps. “Whatever you think you remember — that isn’t me. Not anymore.”

You roll to lean on a bent elbow, propping you against the ground, but it’s too late.

Levi walks away and doesn’t look back.

#fic: silver underground #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #amys deleted scenes.

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hayanwulf · 5 months ago

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Whlie Stephen in homecoming looks awesome let's do one that hasn't been asked yet 😚

Stephen in Wakanda

(WIP game)

I can summarize this story in one sentence as: "What if.. Stephen found Wakanda instead of Kamar-Taj?"

Yup, basically exploring a what if scenario where Stephen never ends up in Kamar-Taj, but instead seeks out Wakanda in hopes to heal his hands.

This is meant to be a very feely sort of fic, focusing around Stephen's character study & character development. However I am in the process of reworking it and tweaking stuff here n there etc, so I'm afraid I can't give you much of an excerpt to read.

Have this bit for now.

He squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating a killer blow from the leopard—

But none came.

His heart beating wildly, he cracked open his eyes to see what had happened.

There, the leopard stood not one feet away from his face. But it was not looking at Stephen. No, its attention was on something far in the distance.

Then it unceremoniously turned around and sprinted away.

What?

Stephen could still hear his own heartbeat loud and clear in his ears as he tried to catch his breath, his head splitting from the rush of blood. He carefully propped himself up on his arms, looking around dazed, wondering what had just happened.

He had just looked death in the eyes.

And then it had.. walked away.

He gathered his hands in his lap and stared down at the bandages. They had gotten a little dirty by now and would need replacing.

He exhaled a shuddering breath as the full force of his emotions crashed down on him.

God, he had almost died. And for what? For chasing after a maybe-potential cure for his hands? Was this what he truly wanted to do? Risk his life trying to earn his old life back?

“Life without my work..”

“Is still life,” Christine tried to explain him. Tried to make him see. “There are other things that can give meaning to your life.”

“Like what, like you?”

Stephen squeezed his eyes shut, hunching in on himself. A few tears escaped his eyes, trickling down his face.

His entire adult life, he’d only known one single path to walk. It had been simple. Straightforward. He had known exactly what he’d wanted, and he’d known the path to get it, so he’d walked it.

He’d only ever learned to walk the one way.

And now.. now his hands were gone, and everyone and everything was forcing him to stop. To abandon this path. To return the way he’d come from and never come back.

But how would he do that? How was he supposed to go back? He couldn’t. Not now. Now after he’d come this far already. No, he couldn’t abandon this path.

He’d only ever learned to walk the one way. He didn’t know how to go back now.

Hell, as his eyes roamed around the forest he was surrounded by, he thought, he didn’t know where to go anymore.

#wip game #stephen strange #fic talk #hayans writings

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enbylestat · 5 months ago

Text

They Build Coffins excerpt

Content Warnings: U.SFW, explicit and angst at the end. (don't like: don't read!)

Chapter 4 - Castigate, read the full story here.

Audrey sat on his desk. Blocking his light. At least she was charming to look at.

“Audrey, love, you’re blocking the light.”

Audrey merely shook her head coquettishly at his reprimand. “Come back to bed,” Audrey purred seductively.

It was then Benjamin observed her heeled shoes on the floor of the office and her merely in her stockings. Glancing up, he observed her in some kind of fearful desperation as he watched her remove everything except her chemise and stockings. It must’ve been fear. By God, he wanted her, but he was deeply afraid of hurting her, in any number of ways.

Then, Tallmadge is caught off guard by a soft press of her mouth and he truly cannot help it then…

Setting aside his inkwell and letter-writing material he placed Audrey squarely on the desk before slipping out of his clothes himself.

“Spread your legs,” Benjamin instructed gently, soothingly.

Audrey didn’t need to be told twice.

He slipped nervous fingers inside her and she helped ease him in.

“F-fuck,” Audrey moaned eyes desperate with lust.

Then, sitting up abruptly she taunted, “I wonder what that tongue can do, I reckon more than just kiss and lie, amour.” Perhaps it was Benjamin’s ego for it is like he can understand her posturing, her matching wits. Her games. As if to challenge herself . He dropped to his knees and began to explore her heat. Audrey’s nails dug into the desk and she whimpered. “Alright, point taken, love,” Audrey conceded.

“I want you in me,” Audrey whined.

Like a loyal hunting dog, Tallmadge need not hear her ask twice.

He grabbed her hips and slid his desperate length inside her.

Audrey moans, then yelps so loud tears nearly spill from her green eyes. Adjusting her undone raven hair Tallmadge eased a hand over her cheek. “No,” Audrey said, but she didn’t pull away. “I am not a person , Benjamin, nor woman , and certainly no harem ,” Audrey said finally gaining her will again. Now, Tallmadge thinks he understands at least partially, it was then he gently eased himself further into her and began to take her.

The sound around the room grows immodest and the air grows warmer, but he doesn’t stop, and he is sure to be most gentle with her.

“Ben!” Audrey whimpered.

“I am gonna…”

Audrey didn't need to repeat herself. Quickly, Tallmadge pulled out before he could risk anything. Of course, he knows she is a vampire, but he still knows she has no wish for children.

Spilling himself onto her inner thighs he caught his breath, collapsing alongside but not on top of her.

Audrey nuzzled into him gently, then, Benjamin inexplicably began to weep.

#enbylestat #fic: they build coffins #benjamin tallmadge #ben tallmadge #oc: audrey #ben x oc #turn fanfiction #18th century #american revolution #turn: washington's spies #turn washington's spies #amc turn #turn amc #fan fiction #fan fic #my writing #mine #hot bracket propaganda!!

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pleathewrites · 10 months ago

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bellow the fire into my deadened lungs

chapter 4 excerpt — aizawa & class 1a on what makes a villain read full story here

‘PRO-HERO ENDEAVOR TURNS HIMSELF IN FOR THE ATTEMPTED MURDER OF HIS ELDEST SON: IS THIS OUR SYMBOL OF PEACE?’

An article of Dabi and Endeavor’s arrest gets leaked Wednesday morning. Every station, paper, and social media platform picks at the exposed meat of it like vultures to a fresh carcass, fighting over favored limbs and surprise bites.

Class 1A has never been so loud. There’s chatter everywhere.

“Oh my Gods, did you hear — ”

“ — about Todoroki-san —”

“ — his own father — ”

“ — and can you believe Dabi — ”

“ — that crazy villain is Shou’s — ”

“ — brother! The guy who kidnapped — ”

“ — kugou, hey, Bakugou!”

The gentle hand on his shoulder shakes Bakugou from the one-sided staring contest he was having with, ‘that fucking Half ‘n Half — coward hasn’t looked up from his desk the moment he sat down.’

It’s Kirishima, the boy who rescued him, the boy who doesn’t leave his side, who holds his hand and smiles like Bakugou hung the moon and the stars and everything in between.

The boy Bakugou had unknowingly given strength to when Kirishima needed it the most.

“I’m fine.”

Red eyebrows curve upwards in worry, and, ‘fuck,’ Bakugou hates worrying people, “You sure? It’s ok if you’re not. I don’t think anyone is.”

Kirishima looks at, ‘that fuckin’ Half ‘n Half,’ with those same sympathetic eyes, and Bakugou feels something ugly bubble up inside him.

He scoffs, “Please, he’s known this entire time — fuck him!”

Kirishima’s eyes squint, “Why do you think that?”

“Because, if I knew, then there’s no fucking way he didn’t!”

That gets Todoroki to look up, both eyes blown so wide, Kirishima can see his scar visibly stretch, “You knew?”

Kirishima smiles fondly at the angry blond, “Bakugou’s smart like that. Of course he’d figure it out before any of us.”

And, well, Bakugou was about to run up and punch Todoroki in the face right then, but the way Kirishima is looking at Bakugou roots his feet to the ground he desperately wants to sink into. He breathes in deeply, counts like his therapist taught him, and with his exhale, his pounding heart starts to settle into something that feels more like stability. The only thing he’s got the energy left for is to huff and cross his arms, mumbling a pathetic, “Damn straight,” and leaning into Kirishima’s broad shoulder.

Ironically, Kirishima’s warmth cools the fire in his chest.

Todoroki shakes his head in something like disbelief — which, ‘Fuck him, because who is he to not believe me?’ — and asks, “When did you figure it out?”

Bakugou didn’t notice until now how the whole class had quieted down.

He rolls his eyes, “Like, the minute you told Deku and I about Touya at your family’s sad ass dinner. Between that, Dabi’s deranged speech to me, and spending two minutes with Endeavor, it was pretty fuckin’ obvious.”

“Why didn’t you say anything!” Todoroki looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

And, ‘oh,’ Bakugou rolls his eyes. He is so done with this conversation, “I just said, it was obvious. ”

That gets Todoroki to shut up and slump back into his chair.

‘Hm. Fine. I guess IcyHot didn’t know. I can still blame him for being an idiot.’

At the back of the class, Sero chews the end of his pencil and wants nothing more than to offer Todoroki a hug, a cigarette, some kind of an out, but he feels as if he’s been taped to his chair by the paralyzing shock of a lost piece shoved into a puzzle he didn’t know until now remained unfinished — ‘everythin’ makes so much sense now.’

A minute later, Aizawa Shouta walks into his classroom, and prepares for the lecture of his life. Quite possibly, his last.

‘Depending on where Principal Nezu’s loyalties lie,’ Shouta thinks to himself, ‘Well, I’ll find out soon enough.’

The students quiet down with his presence, looking more like deers caught in headlights, waiting, waiting for —

“Everyone, take a seat,” He instructs, and as his students do so, he writes the lesson of the day on the board: Why Do Villains Exist?

Before the last squeak of his underline, before he even turns around, a myriad of answers fill the classroom.

“Free will?”

“Greed?”

“The Devil?”

“Shitty families, apparently…”

Shouta holds up a hand, “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I was not asking you all, directly. At least, not yet.”

His students sheepishly settle into their seats. A flurry of swished notebooks to clean pages hiss and evaporate into a long beat of silence.

Shouta takes a deep breath, and a mental note of the way Todoroki Shouto’s shoulders are hitched up to his ears. Shouta cannot imagine what the child is going through. The minute Shouta saw those articles first thing in the morning, he knew his students would have so many questions — and as their teacher, he has a responsibility to answer them the best he can.

He doesn’t know what is going to happen, now that the secret of Todoroki Touya is out, but here, in these four walls of his classroom, he has a control and a capacity to at least prepare his students for the changes to come — the hopeful good and the anticipated bad.

“I understand some, quite frankly, shocking news has come to light. I know you all have many feelings about that news, and probably many questions.

“I was going through your Hero Curriculum over the last few days, and I’ve realized something — our school does not provide one social class. We teach you all how to fight, how to strategize, how to build your image and your portfolio, but we don’t teach you the ways our society functions. The way it was built to function. You learn Quirk history, but you don’t learn about the very social movements that have gotten you, and me, to where we are today. Our society has a twenty percent non-quirk-user population, yet we don’t teach you about their history, psychology, or sociology.

“We separate the pre-quirk era and the present day, but every study shows that our society functions in the same way, more or less. That’s a bit odd, don’t you think? For our society to be so similar to the pre-quirk era? There’s a saying from that era. ‘Those who refuse to learn history are — ’”

“‘— doomed to repeat it’,” Midoriya finishes.

Usually, Shouta would reprimand Midoriya for speaking out without being called on, but today, a small smile ticks at his lips.

“That’s right. Everyone, write that down. I’ll put it on the board.”

He does so while thinking of the frightening duality of identical blue eyes; resolved azure and guilty cerulean. He turns around and spots a yearning cobalt, surrounded by the thick scar tissue of why he’s doing this. His fingers clench around the marker.

“Today, I’m going to throw a lot of information at you guys. And I know when you hear this information, you all will feel many different emotions, as did I. I want you all to know my classroom is a safe space, and there are no wrong feelings. However, I want us all to respect each other to the end,” Shouta looks at both Bakugou and Todoroki when he says, “We are on each other’s team.”

He waits for his students to nod and give him their go-ahead.

“Now, legally, in my contract, I am not allowed to... theorize to my students — you guys — the relationship between the rise of villainy and a, vastly, failing society. Bit strange, don’t you think? We ask you all, everyday, to risk your lives for this society, but you are not encouraged to learn about it. And I am not allowed to teach you the ways in which this society operates.

“Well, that doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Today, I am going to risk my job. And in return, I just ask you all to listen with open minds.”

There is a collection of distressed ‘Aizawa-sensei…’s that fill the room. It pulls together the pieces of his broken heart.

Shouta starts to write on the board, “Our society is based in cycles — wealth cycles, abuse cycles, poverty cycles, etcetera. Note, I am talking about the majority, not the single bootstrapping underdog. Now, I am asking you all directly — are people born bad?”

Bakugou pipes up, “Fuck, no.”

Shouta witnesses the small uptick of Todoroki’s lips, and nods in approval.

“Correct. Reality is, we look at people who have committed horrible crimes, people like Chisaki Kai. We see a fraction of the pain he inflicted on Eri — and the twisted thing is, he most likely was given the same treatment when he was of that age. Fortunately, with the help of our young heroes, we managed to save Eri from that environment.”

He witnesses the pride in Midoriya’s smile and the dignity in Kirishima’s posture. Shouta prays his lesson will not strip them of it.

He rhetorically asks the class, “But, what would have happened if she wasn’t saved? If she stayed in that environment for another five, ten, maybe fifteen years?” He is answered with blinking, waiting eyes, “Trauma physically changes the brain, especially during your developmental years. Does anyone know when the brain fully develops?”

Kirishima tentatively raises his hand, and Shouta calls on him, “Well, I mean, if we’re considered adults at eighteen, is it because that’s when our brains are fully developed?”

“You bring up an excellent point, Kirishima,” Shouta commends. “Society considers you full, functioning adults when you reach the age of eighteen. However, studies from both pre-quirk and our era state that the brain finishes development as late as age twenty-six, even longer for people with common neurodevelopmental disorders, like ADHD.”

“Wait, shit, I have ADHD — ”

“ — Dude, me too — ”

“— does my sister, that makes so much sense — ”

Shocked murmurs flitter around as Ashido raises up her hand, and cuts through the noise, “Wait, Aizawa-sensei, then why do we use eighteen as the age of being an adult? That’s the age when we’re allowed to make so many life-changing decisions…”

The murmurs stop.

“Why, indeed? You’re asking the right question, and you deserve a truthful answer. Because eighteen is such an important age. It is the age you vote, the age you register to become a Pro-Hero, the age people join our civilian military, the age you are allowed to engage in intimate acts with people older than eighteen… And it is the age you are tried as an adult for any crimes committed.

“Which brings me to my next point — has anyone ever heard of the term, ‘private prisons’?”

To Shouta’s surprise, it is Sero who answers his question, “They’re prisons that’re bought by corporations. Don’t have to follow all the government policies, can make up their own rules and stuff. Profit off the prisoners, too — I read somewhere that it’s compa-comparable? To slave-labor. Is that true?”

Sero Hanta is a student that Shouta would argue is actually immensely intelligent, despite his limited vocabulary. Sero’s file states that he comes from an unremarkable school within one of the lower-income districts, but through the academic year, Shouta has learned that Sero’s knowledge is oddly vast.

Shouta hums in approval, “In a nutshell, that is true.”

He goes to the board and begins to explain the prison industrial-complex using diagrams and metrics that blew his mind the first time he researched into it.

“ — Various people will argue how private prisons are the solutions to overcrowding in federal prisons, ignoring the root causes of mass incarceration, like what we’ve already discussed — police bias, three-strike policies, harsher sentences for non-violent crimes, politician bribery, and so on.”

Kaminari raises his hand, “Is Tartarus privately owned?”

Shouta feels the grim pull of his expression, “Yes. Any guesses as to who by?”

Bakugou answers, “Probably the HPSC.”

Shouta nods, “Correct,” and writes down a grotesquely large but accurate number on the board, “This is how much the HPSC profits off Tartarus, annually.”

Amongst the scritch and scratch of his students’ furious note-taking, Yaoyorozu’s hand shoots up, “I have a question about what you said earlier, that perhaps ties into what you’re teaching now. Are you saying any traumas we endure up until age twenty-six will physically change the way our brains develop? And if so, in what ways?”

“Thank you for noticing that connection, Yaoyorozu. That brings us back to my example of Eri, and if she had stayed in that environment, raised by Chisaki Kai. Anger and hurt feeds the soul just as love and affection does, but the needs of that person changes based on what they are given. What if Eri had grown up to be one of the villains you face? Would you still want to save her, or would your first instinct be to lock her away? You wouldn’t know who she is, where she comes from. You’d only know her crimes, but never what brought her to that point.”

“Sensei... It’s really not fair to use Eri-chan in this example. She’s just a child,” Midoriya defends.

Shouta nods in understanding, “So was every single villain I’ve ever arrested,” His mind goes immediately to that day in the interrogation room with Dabi, the scarred-villain fighting for Himiko Toga’s immunity, the reminder that she is a child before she is a villain.

“But, we can’t excuse villainous actions!”

“You’re right, Midoriya,” Shouta confirms, “Actions have consequences.”

“So…” It is Tokoyami that speaks up this time, “What’s the solution?”

Shouta shrugs, “What is the solution? Two-hundred years of hero-society hasn’t figured that out. Two-thousand years of human society never figured out how to stop their own criminals.”

Silence.

Shouta knew it was a shit answer, but, well, he only started this research a few days ago. His conclusion is that the solution will take a collection of heroes to figure out, and it won’t happen in a day, and most devastatingly, not in his lifetime. He believes in planting the seed, though. He believes in his students to water it with the information he’s given today, believes in them to let it soak in the rays of enlightenment he wished he’d bothered to bathe in twenty-odd years ago.

He believes in his students, in this generation, so much more than his own.

“You are here to learn how to be heroes. You’re not here to learn how to fight — yet, somewhere along the lines, we’ve all forgotten what being a hero meant. So,” He writes on the board: What Does it Mean to be a Hero?

“Saving people!” Kaminari.

Obvious, but — “Good,” He wrote it down, “Saving who?”

“Innocents!” Ida.

“Hm,” This is where Shouta will have to make his poor students think deeper, “Why just the innocent?”

“Because they don’t deserve to be hurt,” Ida answers.

Shouta nods, “So, when does someone lose their innocence?”

There’s a moment of thinking before Asui tries, “When they’ve hurt someone who didn’t deserve it?”

‘Deserve’ is the interesting word here.

“Who deserves to be hurt? Is abuse something that is earned? Who gets to make that judgment, and on what basis?”

Uraraka is the brave one to weakly ask, “Police?”

“Ah,” Shouta almost facepalms, “I realize I never assigned proper reading for this topic, my apologies. Right after class, I will email you all some studies that have mostly been kept underground. Here are only some statistics pulled from those studies. I’ll write them down now.”

‘70% of villains come from abusive homes and below the poverty line.’

‘40% of policemen self-reported to being domestic abusers - how many unreported?’

‘80% of sexual-assault offenders are not arrested, despite evidence that murder convictions have been sentenced for less on.’

‘73% of federal prisoners are serving time for non-violent offenses and have no history of violence.’

‘60% of the top fifty heroes have committed criminal acts, yet remain unpunished.’

He waits as his students write down these statistics in their notebooks. He only continues when every single face has looked back up at him.

“Earlier on, I spoke about how people’s needs change, based on what they’re given. It is against the law to steal. However, basic necessities like food, shelter, water, diapers, pads and tampons are not free. Everyone needs to work in order to make money, yet our society’s job markets are often closed or extremely restricted to convicted felons, equally for both violent and non-violent offenders.

“The law makes no difference between someone shoplifting a luxury handbag, and shoplifting a sandwich. So, what our current justice system is essentially telling our society is that people should starve, because of pre-defined morality. That people should let themselves descend to slow death, because that is what our society has deemed is ‘right’.

“I am not trying to make you all feel shame for the way our society works. You’re just kids. You are all incredibly gifted, and incredibly privileged, kids. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. To pick yourself up from your bootstraps, you first need to have a sturdy pair of strong leather boots. Many are born without.

“Everyone wants to be a hero to ‘stop villains’. What I want you all to think about is prevention. How can our society lower these numbers? How can we stop a crime before it’s committed, rather than immediately punish someone once that crime is committed? How can we help reintegrating convicted felons into our society, so that they don’t end up in these prisons a second, and a third time?

“And I want you all to also question — who actually benefits from a criminal being punished? Our society, our governments, or our heroes?”

His students look conflicted. Worried, sad, betrayed, afraid and confused.

Shouta looks at the clock and realizes he’s almost out of time.

He puts the marker down, “I want you all to do the reading I’ve emailed you, and write a one-page reflection on how you would like to be a part of villain prevention once you debut as a Pro-Hero. No goals are too big or too small. I encourage you all to use your imagination, use your empathy, and use the information you’ve learned from me, and your classmates. Does that sound alright?”

His students slowly nod.

“Alright. Thank you all for listening. My door is always open if you have questions or just generally want to talk. Class dismissed.”

read full story here

my other works

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gust-jar-simulator · 1 year ago

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Ohhh my god my heart.

Okay so I read stuff about the Ancient Near East for fun and also my major, and this post has me thinking about the parallels between Skyward Sword and the Epic of Gilgamesh.

To grab a couple of excerpts from sisterofiris:

[…] just like death is tied to life, suffering is tied to love. What prompts Gilgamesh’s desire to escape his lot isn’t pride, but the loss of his beloved. In short, we’re human because we die, because we die we suffer, and we suffer because we love.

The question of being human can be broken down into the state of being human, and the quality of being humane. So if that’s the argument for the state of being human, what is the quality of being humane?

To the Hittites, being a good human - generally a good king, though the concept also seems to apply to common people - meant being merciful. The Hittite word for mercy, genzu-, overlaps with the concepts of love and benevolence. Etymologically it derives from genu-, “knee” or “lap”; thus what makes someone humane is their ability to (figuratively) take someone onto their lap.

And this, my friends, is where I tear off into fandom territory.

Ghirahim is notably struggling with but determined to express mercy at the beginning of Skyward Sword. Textually, we’re given the reasoning that a lack of mercy is “unbecoming of a lord”. Meaning, if we take the idea that a lord is supposed to be an example for his people, that a person should be merciful. That, in addition to his need to vent emotion, is something that immediately characterizes him as human.

(Granted, you don’t need emotions to be human, but I’m using fairytale rules here.)

Ghirahim expressing a lack of mercy coincides with his physical and irreversible change into his weapon form, up to and including the moment where he attempts to kill Zelda and is then finally turned into a sword.

I’d also like to point out that this version of Link is essentially the progenitor of all the others. In essentially every game, you are immersed in the idea that you are not the first hero, but part of an unending mythos. Minish Cap, for example, references the Hero of Men who exists only as a throwaway line for no other reason than to immerse you in the idea that Heroes have Come Before; you are an heir to and part of the overarching legend.

I don’t entirely know where the fandom got the term Hero’s Spirit or the Spirit of Courage, but the idea sums up the concept I’m going for in the same way the Shezarrine in the Elder Scrolls does. Namely, the hero as an individual might be mortal, but as a concept and legend he is immortal. The hero never dies. Because we buy the next game.

Ghirahim, and most every other secondary villain in the series, is incredibly human because his existence is temporary. He doesn’t get a legend. He doesn’t get an impact on history. That’s for the godlike figures who matter, like Ganondorf and Link and Zelda. Ghirahim only exists, in his moment and his time, and then he simply doesn’t. He gets no kleos, and not even a eulogy.

Definition from Wikipedia for you:

Kleos is the Greek word often translated to "renown", or "glory". It is related to the English word "loud" and carries the implied meaning of "what others hear about you". A Greek hero earns kleos through accomplishing great deeds.

[…] besides the meaning of "glory", kleos can also be used as the medium (in this case, the ancient Greek poetry or song) which conveys glory.

Kleos is invariably transferred from father to son; the son is responsible for carrying on and building upon the "glory" of the father.

That quality of the transfer of kleos, I feel, carrying it on and building it up, is exactly what the Legend of Zelda does by introducing the myth of The Hero and then giving us a cute little enby with a sword to sic upon the world. We, the player character, build upon the legend of our predecessors.

Despite the fact that we’re Hylian and destined to die (sometimes several times), and we’re fighting immortal demons: our story lives on, and theirs doesn’t. So who, in that case, is more human?

At the end of Skyward Sword, Demon Lord Ghirahim has been fully transformed into a weapon spirit, and asks us in raw disbelieving curiosity what we are. Coming from a man who’s just confirmed himself to be a magical AI, who we can narratively assume knows quite a lot about everything there is to know, it’s kind of chilling.

Because we get the girl, we get the glory, we get the validation of our god, we get a future. But I think in the process, past how human our desires are, what we are is something on a mythic scale. And Ghirahim, though he wants exactly the same things in his own way, even though he’s a weapon, is only human compared to us.

It’s a fairytale. We’re the hero. In the face of that inevitability, he never had a chance.

#loz skyward sword #sksw ghirahim #sksw link

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some-pers0n · 2 years ago

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Happy New Year!!

Fandom: TF2

Characters: Engineer, Medic

CW: Drinking. A lot of drinking.

Summary: It's New Years Eve and the pair decided to go out for a drink or two. Thirteen hours later and with the other mercs joining in as well, they're still at the bar. It's fun, definitely, but Engie can't help but feel something a bit...off when looking at Medic.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Violently sobbing and pounding my fist against the ground. I finally got to the part of my fic where this stupid chapter/scene happens. This has been rotting in my brain since December. Anyways, this is an excerpt from the most recent chapter of my longfic. You don't need to read it to understand anything. Enjoy.

Engie watched in awe as Medic pounded back his twenty-second glass of beer. By god it was impressive.

They'd been in here for a long while now. How long? To Engie, maybe an hour. But, he knew damn well it's been longer than that. He can see the light outside, or more accurately the lack thereof. They'd gotten here at ten and now it's deep into the night. He'd look at a clock, but things were rather hazy and hard to read now.

He wiped the residue from his lips. "Yet another one down, haha!!" he yelled. A quirky thing with him was how he lost any and all control of his voice the minute he got slightly intoxicated. Doesn't matter. The music's loud and Engie couldn't care less. The hangover and hearing loss was a problem for tomorrow.

Tonight? Why not have some fun? Relax. Kick his feet back and enjoy. He deserves it after all that nonsense back at the base. A nice full day out at the bar, bleeding the owner out of all of their supply.

Engie clapped in response. "Hell yeah! Number twenty-two! Think you could go fer another one?"

Medic bubbly giggled. His cheeks were rosy red and his face was fixed into a permanent smile. He looked so goddamn happy. Watching him was an experience all of itself, one that was elevated when the both of you are several drinks deep. Seeing him laugh like that made everything feel less important. Like the only thing that mattered was being with him.

...what the hell was that line of thought? It's what he was experiencing, definitely, but it was strange to think like that. That intense. Feelings. Hah. That's not what he should be thinking about right now. That just made things more confusing.

By the time the Engineer recollected himself, he noticed that Medic was rambling again. In German. He was going a mile a minute. Whatever he was saying was completely lost on Engie. He could barely understand English right now, much less this. The words slurred together into a homogenous slush of vowels and sharply pronounced consonants.

"Uh, doc? Doc?" He snapped his fingers a couple times.

"Und das ist der Grund– hm? Ja?"

"You're back in German mode again. I'd love to know what you're saying."

Medic clasped his mouth, feeling around. "Was I really?" he chuckled. His accent was more obvious than ever, though Engie didn't care. If anything, it was cute.

Engie joined in. "I'll drink to that." He raised his hand once more. "Jessie?"

"Another round?..." the bartender replied, a moderate amount of fear in his voice. "I've already served your booth over forty drinks–"

"Enough chat! I wish to see if I can beat my record time now." Medic rubbed his hands energetically. "Will you join me?"

He shrugged. "Why the hell not?"

Moments later, Jessie brought them more drinks. "Lovely night, I know, but I was wondering when you would both pay off your tab."

"Both? What about Py– Pyro?" Engie turned to see that they weren't there. Completely absent. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember seeing or hearing Pyro for a long while. Where'd he slip off to?

"Ahem, that's beside the point. It's getting close to midnight and I'm going to close up as soon as it happens."

Medic spat a little back into his drink. "Mh? What? You're going to kick us out?! What for? We are res– hic– responsible, you dummkopf!"

Jessie motioned to the rest of the bar. Engie saw that the place was trashed. Slashes and rips in the other booths. The floor was covered with beer and whiskey. A far cry from the clean and inviting atmosphere it once was hours earlier. The other mercenaries were loudly drinking and conversing, with the only one by himself being the Demoman at the piano. He was playing along with the jukebox, adding onto the keyboard section of whatever songs came on. It was a lovely addition if the Engineer was to be honest.

"I see nothing wrong with it," Engie said.

"It's been like this for thirteen hours. None of you have given me any money. Other patrons tried coming in only to be driven out."

"Sounds like their issue. Sorry that we can't help it." He shrugged. Medic snickered in response.

Jessie glared. "I'll have you know that I have been running this bar for–" He stopped to count on his fingers– "six years! I have a family to feed. It consists of me and only me. I'll have you know that I work very hard to get the right amount of lead and radiation in my brew–"

"Oh mein Gott!" Medic yelled, a wide smile on his face. "I love this song."

Engie raised his head to the radio, recognizing the tune instantly. Scout constantly played record after record from Tom Jones. It would be humiliating to not remember that snappy beat and trumpets from that song. "It's Not Unusual" was a neat little jig that he quite liked himself, though Medic seemed far more into it.

"I was talking–"

"Raus, schweinhunde." Medic pushed Jessie out of the way, getting up and over to the dance floor.

"What the hell's that idiot gonna do now?" Engie gave a light-hearted chuckle. He watched expectingly as his partner stood in the middle of it and began to snap along to the beat. He tapped his foot and began to sway back and forth.

He was dancing. He was imitating the signature Tom Jones moves. Pretty damn good as well, especially considering he's had over twenty lead-filled glasses of beer. He moved with grace, but also with enough of his own weirdness and off-beat charm. His own spin on this dance move. Engie sat there in constant silence, observing him.

Then, Medic looked back up. Eye contact. A flash in his eyes appeared for just long enough for Engie to know what he was about to do. Before he could get a word out, he spoke.

"Don't just sit there! Dance with me!"

"Oh, I dunno about that–"

"It'll be fun! Trust me." Medic approached him, holding out his hand. Engineer stared at it for a moment, considering his options.

Well, what's the worst that can happen? He grabbed it, instantly being yanked from the booth. He was dragged along to the floor, with Medic holding up both of his hands.

Engie was no stranger to dancing, especially with another person. One helluva dancer back in his university days. Could impress a whole group of girls (or boys for that matter) with his moves.

But, with Medic, it was a whole other beast. It was as though he'd been lobotomized. Any previous skill and technique he may have learned were just completely erased. At the mercy of whatever his partner had in store for him.

He stepped back, then to the left, back to the right two times. Engie followed along, slowly getting the hang of things. Didn't help that he was half a foot shorter, but he had fun regardless. It was a dance. It's not supposed to be proper and practical.

It must have gone on for a minute of this. "Ohoho! How exciting," he hummed as he repositioned his hand around his back, dipping the Engineer.

"Where the hell you learn to dance?" he asked, a coy smirk on his face.

He shrugged. "Nowhere! First time with a partner." Medic pulled him back right up, twisting him and then spinning him away. "That's what makes it fun, no?" he continued, doing his little dance now. He shook from side to side, shaking his arms in time.

Engie followed after him, doing similar upbeat and energetic moves. God, it knocked the wind out of him quite a bit, but he couldn't care. It was beyond magical. The sheer joy and happiness radiating from the two of them was unmatched. From the extra bit of piano from Demoman to the fact only they were dancing. It was a perfect moment.

Yet, as he looked at his partner, he couldn't help but feel something else. An odd twisting in his stomach. Could be from the beer, but usually they don't ache like this. It was a warm sensation, one that only grew more intense the longer he looked.

There was something off about himself, yet he couldn't quite rationalize what it may be. All he knew was that he was delighted to be around Medic.

Soon enough, the song ended, fading out. The radio host came back on. "Alright, folks, that was Tom Jones. Now, I haven't gotten a song up for you peppercats quite yet, but I'll have you know that right now it's approximately– hold on, lemme check my clock– fifteen seconds until midnight."

Medic straightened out, alert. "Mein Gott! I nearly forgot about the new year. Come, come, quickly! Raus! Everyone, together!" He grabbed Engineer by the side, pulling him closer. "Ten! Nine!"

The other mercs joined in, rushing over. "Eight! Seven! Six!"

They all looked towards the radio, huddled together. "Five! Four! Three! Two!... One!" Then, a jumbled cry of cheer saying, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

The group began to clap. Soldier sang Auld Lang Syne along with the Demoman. Others clicked their drinks together. Engineer didn't have anything with him, but he had an idea. He fidgeted with his Gunslinger, switching the ring finger into a blowtorch. A warm blue flame erupted from the fingertips. He waved it around like a makeshift sparkler.

But, as he did so, some stray drops of whiskey and liquor from the other mercenaries' drinks flew at him, passing right through the fire. Without warning, they caught aflame. Mere seconds later, the burning spirit fell to the floor, spreading to the rest of the spilled drink. A fire started right before them.

On second thought, maybe the blowtorch wasn't that great of an idea.

"Oh, fire," Medic said absent-mindedly.

"Huh, that's new," Engie muttered. He wheezed, unable to control his laughter.

"Guess that's the cue to leave, ain't it?" Demo looked to the rest of them.

"I do believe yes. The fire has already spread to the whole bar. I argue this place has five minutes before it begins to care in. I'd rather not die here," Spy added, pressing a cigarette to his lips.

"Ight, let's book it." The Engineer shrugged. They turned around, Medic still clinging to his side. The burning inferno was the least of his worries as of now. He couldn't care less about it or the panicked screams and obscenities thrown at them by Jessie. I mean, it's just a bar. It burning down is nothing that bad.

"Did you do that?" Medic asked. Engineer noticed his weight becoming heavier, as he acted more like a crutch to Medic than anything else. His partner leaned on him, nearly tripping over his own feet as they stepped over the flaming puddles of beer.

"Think so."

He giggled. "Now we're talking!" They both exited the bar, walking into the parking lot. "Come on, Herr Engineer, do we have to go back to the base? Can't we just stay out? It's been forever since we've kidnapped somebody..." Medic's words were slurred and hard to hear.

"We've already been drinking for ages now, doc. Kinda just wanna go back home."

"Oh please! When has th– hic– that ever stopped anybody?"

"Christ, just how drunk are you?"

"I want to put myself in critical condition and barely still alive just so I can go to heaven and see God and spit in his face... Wouldn't that be funny?"

"...that answers that question." Engie was practically carrying Medic now. He was putting every bit of energy to keep him upright and from falling over.

Eventually, they came back to the car. Engie reached for his keys and tried the door, only to then see it rolled down out of nowhere. It gave him quite a fright, but he calmed down upon seeing who was in the driver's seat.

Pyro stared back at them, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh hey, smokes!" Engie grinned. "What are you doin' in here?"

Pyro covered his ears. "Mhh mhmn."

"Too loud? Can't blame you. God, I can already tell my ears are gonna be ringing like nothing else tomorrow."

"Who are you talking to?" Medic muttered. "Oh, hello, Herr Pyro." He waved. Pyro waved back.

"You mind drivin' us? I don't think I can walk straight, much less drive."

Pyro nodded repeatedly. He unlocked the back door, letting them in. Engie opened up the door and slid Medic off and guided him into the seat. "C'mon, it ain't that hard to sit down."

Eventually, Medic slipped into the car. Engie was about to close the door, only for Medic to tug on his arm. "Wait, don't leave me..."

Engineer paused. "What?"

He smiled back. Medic's eyes were cloudy and tired, yet full of life and joy. The toothy grin he gave was heartwarming in every way possible. A beam of light in the darkness of night.

"...oh, alright. I'll stay in the back with ya." Engie got into the back seat, closing the door. "Let's go, Pyro. Back to the base." He tapped on the headrest. Immediately, Pyro shifted it into reverse, jerking the car back before then driving off.

"Woa– oah!" Medic stumbled, recovering from such movement. He snickered and laughed. "Mein Gott, I'm so drunk right now..."

"I know, I know," Engie said calmly and relaxed. "Once we get home, I'm going to bed."

"No afterparty? Nothing?"

"Nah... I already have enough today." He glanced back at Medic. "Thanks for doing this. I really needed some time out."

"Mh? Oh, that was nothing, hehe." He waved his hand dismissively.

Engie felt his stomach tighten into a knot while looking at him. He still didn't understand what he was feeling. This was odd. He knew he'd experienced this sort of thing before, but couldn't remember where or how. It was pleasant though. Through all of this confusion, he knew that this was a good feeling.

The car ride grew silent. The calming droning noise of the engine humming while the wind blew by put Engie at ease. Some peace and quiet after all of that chaos at the bar. A little time to sit and think.

Issue was that thinking hurts to do. His head ached and his throat burned. His ears stung and his stomach churned. He was going to have to deal with the hangover of a lifetime in a bit. Sounds thrilling.

Yet, he couldn't care about that enough. He was still preoccupied with this strange feeling towards Medic. It wasn't just tonight that it happened. He recalled several times before when something like this bubbled up within him. This giddiness from being near him. This want to stay with him. What was it? What...what is it–

Right in the middle of his train of thought, Engie felt Medic lean against him. He looked back to see that his eyes were closed. Moments later, he was snoring and his neck rolled to the side. His head rested on him.

He was so close. So near to him. So warm. So cozy. It was right to be with him.

That's when it hit him. It was as though he sobered up in three seconds as the realization hit him. All it took was for his partner to sleep on him for him to finally get what he was feeling for that fog of confusion to clear up.

This was something different than being friends. Something that Engie had not felt for another person in a number of years.

Looked at Medic. He was so peaceful and cute. The way his glasses were slightly askew and his breathing was slow and relaxing. He could even feel the faint thumping of his heart.

Engie slid his right hand behind Medic, bringing him into a hug. He couldn't deny it any longer. Everything about him was perfect. He was the chaotic whirlwind that complemented his eccentricities. He was the odd madman that truly got what it was like to be an artist by using the sciences. He was the only other one to see his cold, dead heart and not be immediately disgusted. He was happy around him. He was free to do anything with him. He was himself at his absolute best.

He loved Medic. With all of his heart, he loved him.

#somepersonswriting #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #engiemedic #science party #tf2 fanfiction #SP-writing

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ourtearsofrain · 1 year ago

Text

Mon Beau (J.T.K/O.C) (Save a Horse Universe)

Summary: Continuation/offshoot of Ride a Cowboy; what happens between Sebastian and Jake that night.

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Male OC

Genre: fluff, teeny bit of angst if you squint, drabble

Word Count: 2 k

Warnings: none, they’re cute and gay; Sparrow (Sebastians’ sibling) is a little protective, mentions some shitty things Seb has been through with past partners but nothing graphic or traumatic; brief mentions/implication of sex between Sam and Danny, and Austin and Josh but as lighthearted comments or jokes.

A/N: I would highly highly recommend reading Save a Horse and Ride a Cowboy, (and Salty Dogs, Anyone?) as this is a continuation/offshoot of Ride a Cowboy. Hope y’all like this short little fic, I’ve really enjoyed expanding on the stories of the boys and their oc boyfriends :)

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[Brief excerpt from Ride a Cowboy as a timeline reminder]:

Once again, he taps his brother on the shoulder to get his attention. “Hey Jake, Sam and I are heading out. Josh is getting a ride with Austin, so either catch a ride with him or leave now with us.”

Just as his twin had done, he asks “Are you guys ok?”

“Yep, just tired.”

Jake looks towards Sam, also immediately knowing what was going on. “Uh huh, well, get some rest guys.”

“I can give you a ride home if you’d like, mon beau.”

Jake and Danny both smile at Sirena as Sam is too busy staring at his boyfriend in the cowboy hat to respond to her offer to Jake.

“Thanks, Sebastian.” Jake turns to Danny and Sam once more, “See you guys later, have fun and get some rest.”

“Thanks Jake, see ya.” Danny says before turning away, finally pulling Sam towards the exit.

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Both watch as the other boys make their way briskly towards the exit.

“They look mighty eager to get home.” Sebastian laughs.

Jake turns back towards him, chuckling. “Yeah well, I’m just glad I live with Josh and not Sam. I think I would have killed myself if they had gotten together in high school and I had to hear them through the thin ass walls.”

Sebastian lets a loud laugh loose at this, covering his mouth with his hand. Jake smiles at him questioningly, "Why are you covering your mouth? You have a great smile.”

His hand drops as he looks down self-consciously. “Well, mon beau, you may think that but, it’s kind of a subconscious habit at this point. Other kids weren’t the nicest in high school so, like I said, it’s habit.”

“You have a gorgeous smile, Sebastian.”

He smiles wide at this, his hand starting to come back up before stopping himself. “Thank you, mon beau.”

The song changes to something Jake recognizes as a favorite of Josh’s. He automatically looks over to his twin, seeing his clear excitement from across the room. He smiles from knowing Josh was having fun with Austin.

“You alright, mon beau?”

Jake turns towards Sebastian again with a smile still on his face. “Yeah, Josh loves this song and looks like he’s having fun, I’m happy for him.”

Sebastian glances over at Josh and Austin, smiling with Jake. “Him and his man look like they’re enjoying themselves. They make a cute couple.”

“I know right??” he exclaims. “Josh’s been into him for a while but never made a move. Hopefully one of them will tonight.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, still looking at Josh and Austin. “Well, mon beau, looks like one of ‘em just did.”

Jake whips around towards them, to see them swaying gently as they kiss. “Fucking finally!” he says with a grin.

Sebastians attention turns towards Jake again. “It’s sweet how happy you are for your brothers.”

He shrugs, “They’re my brothers. I love them and want them to be happy.”

As if summoned, Jake feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see Josh and Austin behind him.

“Hey, Austin and I are heading back to our place, need a ride?”

“Na,” Jake nods towards Sebastian, “Sebastian’s taking me home. You guys better be done by the time I get back, I swear to god if I hear anything, I’m smothering you with a pillow while you’re asleep.”

Jake sees a blush fall across Josh and Austins cheeks, before Josh rolls his eyes as he replies, “We’re not gonna do anything, Jake. Stop being so melodramatic."

Jake smiles, “Uh huh, right. Either way, have fun.”

Josh shakes his head at his twin, “Thanks, Jake. See you later.” He says before turning away, grabbing Austin’s hand and intertwining their fingers as they make their way towards the door.

Jake focuses on Sebastian and their dance again as the song changes.

“If not for you,

Babe, I couldn’t even find the door.

I couldn’t even see the floor.

I’d be sad and blue, if not for you.”

“I love this song.” Jake says with a smile.

“George Harrison, right?”

“Yeah, it is. I like The Beatles, but think his standalone music is just as great.” Jake thinks for a moment, “Actually, I think I have this album on vinyl.”

“Well then, you’ll have to play it when I come over to see your pirate coins.”

Jake grins, remembering their deal to show each other their various pirate-themed collections of trinkets. “Of course!”

They slowly dance through the song, changing their pace as another, faster one starts as the closing notes of the song conclude. They dance through so many songs, laughing and making light conversation as they go, that they lose count of them all. Jake finally fails at containing a yawn, having danced so long and late that his feet were sore and his body exhausted.

“Tired, mon beau?”

“Little bit, but it’s alright if you need to stay later.”

Sebastian shakes his head at him, already stopping their dance to lead Jake towards the performers exit to the back room. “They’ll be fine if I split now, it’s getting late anyways. You fine waitin’ out here while I change?”

They stop next to an empty two-person table near the door and Jake slides onto the stool. “Of course.”

Sebastian offers a small smile at him, “Alrighty, I’ll be 10 minutes, at most.”

“No rush.” Jake says, before he turns away and disappears behind the door. He pulls his phone out, sending a text to Josh saying, “Heading back in 10 ish. Like I said you guys better be decent when I get there.”, before slipping his phone back into his pocket.

He sits in silence for about five minutes, listening to the music and taking in the bar and its remaining patrons, before he's approached by a familiar looking person coming out of the performers exit. Her fishnet shirt replaced by a black shirt and cozy knit vest, and her hair different; her platinum bun gone and instead a short, dark mullet of clean coils. Jake recognizes her as Sparrow, Sebastians sibling. She sits down across from him, her expression unreadable.

“You’re Jake.” She says, more as a statement than a question.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’m Sara, Sebastians sister.”

Jake smiles at her, “Nice to meet you, Sara.”

She doesn’t return his smile, face still cool and collected as she stares him down.

“Seb’s nervous about you seein’ him out of drag. He’s too nice to say it to your face but, he is.”

Jake’s brows furrow, “What? Why?”

“My guess? He’s worried you won’t be attracted to him outta drag too. I’m only gonna say this once, ya hear me? I’ve seen boys like you toy with my brother cause they think he’s hot in drag, and then split the second they see him outta it cause they’re hit with the realization he’s a man and they ain’t ready to confront their sexualities. I am fiercely protective of him, and he deserves better than that. For some reason he thinks you’re somthin’ special and he really likes you. So for that, I’ll give you one warnin’. If you hurt him like that, I’ll hurt you. If you ain’t ready to understand and recognize he’s a man, makin’ you queer, you better leave now before he gets back out here. That’ll hurt him less than you pretendin’ and goin’ along with it.”

“I understand.” Jake says solemnly, “Him and I talked about that, I know that whatever happens between us makes me queer, the last thing I want is to hurt him. I truly like him for who he is. I swear.”

This eases some of Sara’s worries, her body physically relaxing as the tension leaves. “Good. You seem like a nice guy, I don’t mean to scare you off or nothin’.”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t. I admire how much you care for him. I have brothers myself, so I understand.”

She slides out of the bar stool, “Well in that case, Jake, ya’ll have fun. Imma split before Seb gets back, I hope to be seein’ you again.”

“Yeah, hopefully.” Jake offers a smile of goodbye, and this time she returns it before walking away, snaking her way through the diminishing groups of people to get to the bar’s exit.

Jake is still focused on the door, not realizing that Sebastian had come out until he hears him. “Ready to go, mon beau?”

His head turns towards his voice, seeing Sebastian out of drag for the first time, long locs shortened, makeup gone, and wearing a simple red corduroy jacket overtop a loose black shirt. He stares for a second, seeing Sebastians’ expression go from confusion to worry. “You alright, Jake?”

He manages to organize his thoughts into a sentence, still staring at Sebastian in wonder. “You’re beautiful.”

His thoughts catch up to his mouth as a look of bashful confusion passes over Sebastians’ face. “I mean, you were beautiful before, too. But, just, wow.”

Sebastian smiles at him, “Thank you. You’re beautiful too, mon beau. Glad you ain’t scared or turned off by how I look now cause I’ll tell ya right now, this is how I look 90% of the time.”

Jake makes no move to get off his stool, still awestruck by Sebastian. “Well, ready to head out?”

This snaps him out of it, “Oh! Uh, yeah.” he says as he gets off his stool and heads towards the door with Sebastian.

“Do I needa pull up google maps or you know the way back to your place from here?”

“I got it, it’s not far.”

They walk to the car in comfortable silence, only broken by quiet music from the radio as Sebastian starts his car. Jake begins directing Sebastian to his house as a feeling of dread in his stomach grows as they get closer. Sebastian pulls into his driveway, shifting the car into park before speaking.

“Here you are, mon beau.”

“Thanks for the ride.” He starts, still not wanting to get out of the car. “Do you- do you want to get drinks or go to dinner or something soon?”

Sebastian smiles, glad Jake asked the question he had been worrying over the entire car ride. “I’d love to, mon beau. Here, give me your phone. I’ll put my number in.”

He hands him his phone, all former dread leaving his body, happy with the confirmation that he would be seeing him again soon. He hands his phone back, signaling that it was time for them to part ways.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Course you can, Jake.”

Their kiss is as sweet and slow as it had been back in the bar, only now with a little less lipstick. Neither want it to end, but Sebastian eventually pulls away, resting his forehead on Jake’s as they sit for a second in content silence. “As much as I hate goodbyes, you should probably go check on your brother. Try not to kill him if him and his man are still havin’ fun, I quite liked him in the, albeit brief interaction we had.”

Jake snorts, remembering Josh and Austin had gone back to their place for the night. “Yeah, I’ll try. No promises though.” He finally opens the car door, saying, “Thank you for tonight, Sebastian. See you soon.” before getting out.

“Thank you for tonight too, mon beau. See ya soon, you have my number.”

Jake smiles at him before closing the door and walking towards his house. He unlocks the door, fighting the urge to loudly announce his presence as he hears a movie playing faintly from the living room. He locks the door behind him before making his way towards the sound to investigate.

He finds the end of Dirty Dancing playing on the TV, with Josh and Austin passed out together on the couch, Josh laying on top of Austin, whose arms are wrapped protectively around the other man. Jake laughs to himself quietly, thankful that they were both fully clothed. He turns the TV off and lays a blanket over the pair, before grabbing their empty glasses off the coffee table and taking them to their kitchen.

Jake makes his way towards his room as he tries to decide whether he should text Sebastian. He finally gives in, despite his slight anxieties, and sends a short text to him: “This is Jake, now you have my number too :)”

He sets his phone down on his bedside table before starting his nightly routine, trying not to think too much about if Sebastian had replied. To his delight, he comes back to see a notification from him: “Thanks, mon beau. Get some sleep it’s late, talk more tomorrow <3”

He smiles to himself as he climbs into bed, turning the light off and trying to fall asleep despite his racing mind stuck on thoughts of where he should take him. He manages to fall asleep, content and thoughts still full of Sebastian.

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Songs mentioned:

If Not For You- George Harrison

#fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka x oc #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka

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tllgrrl · 1 year ago

Text

The Big, Fancy Serving Dish - Continued (an excerpt) by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Fleur De Louve SarahBucky Month 2023 - Week 4, Day 7: Family Dinner

Relationships-Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson/Misty Knight, and OCs | Rated: SFW

This excerpt takes place during the family dinner mentioned in a previous story: The Big, Fancy Serving Dish.

* * * * * * * * * *

“ It’s called serobe.”

“Say-roh-bey? Is that right, Sargent—I mean, Bucky?”

He was holding an almost full plate, and she was giving him a tour of all the different dishes of food brought by everyone when she stopped at the one in the center of the main table.

The big, fancy serving dish on the warmer.

He leaned slightly forward and said something in her ear, she giggled, swatting his arm.

Sarah, Misty, and Sam stood on the other side of the room, transfixed, watching the 100+ year old man, charming the socks off of Sam and Sarah’s titi.

“Is she…?” Sarah whispered.

“Is he…?” Misty whispered back.

“Imma kill ‘im,” Sam growled.

“What!?”

“Why?”

“Look at him. Flirting and going on.”

“Sam. He is older than her.”

“I know. Man stays being a cradle robber.”

That last part he said under his breath, but just loud enough for Bucky’s supersoldier hearing to catch, and Bucky let Sam know he heard it because he looked over at Sam, grinned a big wolfish grin, and gave a wink that made Sarah whoop and cover her mouth as Misty turned around and quickly walked away almost whisper-screaming “Oh no he didn’t!”

Sarah heard her laughter coming from the kitchen.

“And save some food for the rest of us,” Sam continued to grouse a little louder. “That’s your second plate. Can’t take you anywhere.”

“Let the man eat, Sam!” Aunt Lee chuckled “There’s more than enough food!”

Misty returned from the kitchen and continued to snicker with Sarah.

“What are you two laughing at,” Sam glared. “Sarah, the man is flirting with our aunt.”

“I think it’s cute, and she’s having fun! She’s 80, looks like she’s still in her 60s, she’s a widow, and she’s still spry. He’s over 100 and doesn’t regularly get to talk to people who remember The old Old Days. Let them live!”

“You might want to keep an eye on your aunt, though, Sarah,” Misty adds. “Sam tells me Miss Lee has buried 3 husbands. White Wolf has that serum, but he might not stand a chance against —“

“Come on now, Miss Lee! Really? Three?” Bucky pretended to be delightedly aghast.

Lee raised a knowing eyebrow, primly purses her lips, and gave him the head tilt that said “If You Know, You Know”, then they both laughed.

“No, no and no,” Sam says, walking away while keeping his eyes pinned on Bucky. “This is just…wrong.” he hisses and keeps walking while the two senior citizens continue to banter.

Sarah noticed the lightness in Bucky’s demeanor as he laughed with her Aunt. Lee giggled like a schoolgirl, and when she gently touched his right arm, he didn’t flinch or go still. He didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable with the contact.

Then she whispered something in his ear, and he looked over at Sarah, catching her eyes.

The unguarded and completely open look on his face made her catch her breath, and she whispered to herself, “There you are.”

He nodded, and she could read his lips when he said “God knows I do,” then slightly ducked his head, and smiled.

* * * * * * * * * *

serobe is an offal dish from Botswana made from goat, sheep or cow intestines and sometimes trotters. Chitterlings—or chit’lins—usually made with pork intestines, can also be made from goat or sheep.

* * * * * * * * * *

Good intentions, good intentions. I tried to do a one shot continuation of a dinner mentioned in a previous fic, and combine the prompt “Family Dinner” with “Gratitude”, but it turned into a thing with many moving parts and I ran out of time, so, hopefully this can slide in and be included for the Week and I’ll try to get the complete story and a little moodboard thing together for ChristmaHanuKwanza.

#sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sam wilson #misty knight #buckysarah #sarahbucky #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve month #fleurdelouve #fanfiction #sarahbucky fanfiction

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dogbunni · 1 year ago

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For the ask game: 🦋💥💌

🦋 what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

that it's bad. that it's so bad and terrible that no one will care that I posted it because it's too bad to read. also that I made some kind of glaring error like saying that butter and cheese is the same thing and then everyone takes to the comments to tell me how much of an idiot I am.

💥 Find your least kudos'd fic and say something nice about it.

Hmm. That is Like A Deer Into The Headlights, which is from 2018 and my very first foray into fanfiction. It's a DC fic detailing a possible joker origin story- but it's a faithful retelling of a dream I had so it's very disjointed and unreal. I also think it is just bad, because I hadn't had time to get good at it yet. But I have to say something nice, so one thing I like about it is that it exists. I keep it up on AO3 because it's my starting point. I don't think I would've written anything had I not wrote down that dream one morning on a whim. I've always had stories in me to tell but never the fighting spirit to tell them and LADITH sits in my AO3 works list and says "Look. Even if it isn't good. You can still do it." and sometimes I need that.

💌Share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

THE DEATH SCENE THE DEATH SCENE THE DEATH SCENE OH MY GOD THE DEATH SCENE!!!!!!!

This is from Call To The Devil (not saiki k sorry jessica 😔) and I've been working on it tonight and oh my god!!!! I'm so excited. SO EXCITED. It won't be up on AO3 for a while because I think this is going in chapter 12, but I'm going to put an excerpt. If anyone here reads CTTD, a little crumb for you:

That night, alone in his bed, finally safe and tucked away, Megumi remembers. His mind opens up like the gaping maw of Hell, and he is found again, baptised, in the unholy terror of his childhood's death rattle—

He is six years old and he is scared. They are all in a basement, Megumi, Mama, Papa, and Tsumiki. It is cold, and damp, and dark, and he wants very much to go home. He can't see much by the single bare bulb meant to illuminate the entire room, but Megumi sees enough to recognise some of Papa's friends. Except, they aren't being very nice to him. They're shouting at his Papa, and it is very loud, so loud that Megumi crouches down in a corner and puts his fingers in his ears.

Someone Megumi doesn't recognise is pointing something at Papa, and Megumi thinks it might be a gun- a real one like he's seen on TV and not a toy like the one Tsumiki used to have. Megumi knows that guns are dangerous, and they hurt, because Tsumiki's toy gun shot elastic bands and when she shot Megumi in the arm with it, it made him cry, and she wasn't allowed to play with it anymore. Real guns hurt even more than that, he thinks, because when people get shot on TV they bleed and sometimes they even die, and when someone dies they go away forever. Megumi doesn't want his Papa to go away forever, and so he feels himself begin breathing very, very fast, and his legs tremble even though he is crouching down.

He looks to his Mama, to ask her to make that man stop pointing a gun at Papa, but she is being held back by two of Papa's friends.

"Mama!" Tsumiki is crying, and trying to pull Mama away from Papa's friends. One of them kicks her back roughly, and Megumi flinches as she falls to the floor.

"Don't you fucking dare touch my kids," Megumi hears his Mama spit, and she thrashes in their grip wildly.

"Or what? What'll you do?" One of them taunts meanly.

"Shut up! Every fucking body shuts up right fucking now, or I fucking kill all of you," the man with the gun screams, punctuating every curse with a jab of his gun into the air.

It's like all the air gets sucked out of that basement, how quickly everyone shuts up. Megumi watches as the man points the gun back at his Papa. Toji glares at him darkly.

"How the hell else did you think this was going to go, Fushiguro?" The man speaks lowly, laden in vocal fry.

"Did you really think," he emphasises the last word with a jab of the gun into the side of Toji's head, "that you could, what, put in your two weeks and ride off into the sunset, happily for-fucking-ever after? Did you think we'd really let you go? That we wouldn't even look?"

#i have written way more than that but listen #spoilers #i have to keep some cards close to the chest #jessica thank u so much for the ask #<3 #cttd

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zalsoa · 2 years ago

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There’s normal life, kind of day-to-day, make-breakfast, do-the-dishes kind of life, but just underneath that, like a throb of bass you feel in your chest, I feel a whole other thing going on. In the midst of taxes and email, there is something sacred, something special dipping and weaving within that same old thing, like a firefly, like a great song, and it reminds you that the dishes and the taxes are real, but so much more is real, too. The sacred mixes in with the daily when you have a conversation with someone you love, or when you read a great book, or when you do something courageous. It’s still just a normal day, but there’s something bigger, something more compelling going on, too. One look at a baby’s fingers and you just know that those little bundles of flesh and tiny bones are more sacred, more spiritual, than any thought or idea or theology could ever be. There are glimpses and whispers of the divine all through the daily, if we let ourselves look again, if we let ourselves believe that the world all around us is threaded through with divinity. I live according to my faith when I love a meal that has been prepared carefully, when I notice texture and color and taste, when I let the flavor and scent of something fresh from the ground surprise me and bring me back to life. I demonstrate my theology when I dance all night with people I love, because this life is worth the best celebration we can offer up to it. I thank God every time I eat crusty bread and garlicky olives, and when I smell clean laundry and hear that little squeak of fingers on a guitar. I have to create hope in my life, because there’s something inside me that has radar for the bad parts of life. I walk into the kitchen and all I can see are crumbs on the counter, and I look in the mirror and don’t even see my face, I just see all the potential wrinkles forming. I have a dark, worst-case scenario sensor, and it takes over. It’s all true. There are crumbs on the counter. I am definitely getting wrinkles. I just don’t want to live in only that reality. It’s rebellious, in a way, to choose joy, to choose to dance, to choose to love your life. It’s much easier and much more common to be miserable. But I choose to do what I can do to create hope, to celebrate life, and the act of celebrating connects me back to that life I love. I want a life that sizzles and pops and makes me laugh out loud. And I don’t want to get to the end, or to tomorrow, even, and realize that my life is a collection of meetings and pop cans and errands and receipts and dirty dishes. I want to eat cold tangerines and sing loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing and paint my walls the exact color of the sky right now. I want to sleep hard on clean white sheets and throw parties and eat ripe tomatoes and read books so good they make me jump up and down. What if, all at once, all the shabby, tired, used-up bodies and minds start to wriggle and pop, like they’ve been dropped into a deep-fryer, sizzling and dancing, transformed into motion? And something that has been deadened and distracted by the tension and noise of this world comes to life anew, wakes up and wiggles like a fritter in a frying pan, anointed, and taught to dance. Because we were made for motion, for arching up toward God with all the energy and passion of a thunderstorm, lightning slicing through a sleepy world.

Excerpts from Cold Tangerines, by Shauna Niequist

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lesbianjunimo · 4 years ago

Text

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?)

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~”

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams.

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that.

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way.

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism.

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?”

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on.

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process.

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care.

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet.

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention.

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram.

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place.

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly.

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

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