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multifandomwritings · 4 years ago

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How the slashers would react to their S/O being sweet and affectionate

(Giving them lots of compliments, being soft with them, etc.)

Includes Thomas, Brahms, Michael, Jason, Bubba, Chop Top, Nubbins, Beetlejuice, Candyman, Bo, Vincent, Lester, Graverobber, Luigi, Pavi & Billy Lenz. I know technically not all of them are slashers but I wanted to put all the horror characters together :)

This came out of nowhere and took so long to write lol :^) I hope you like it! If I’m missing anyone let me know! (This is both bad and lengthy, so I am sorry :’) Also obviously they’re soft here so) I’ve read through this to check for mistakes but if I missed anything I’m sorry, feel free to point it out!

Thomas:

- Thomas would thoroughly melt. He's starved for affection and kindness, and probably wouldn't even know how to handle it at first, only staring at you with reddened cheeks and ears

- He's a sucker for compliments, especially — he's been spoken to/about poorly most of his life, so it's foreign to him. Your seemingly endless drawls of honey-coated words soften him up beyond repair, building his confidence up more than you would even be aware of (imagine his widened eyes and fumbling hands as you spoke 🥺)

- It would take some time, but you'd make him like things about himself. You compliment his eyes? He would slowly begin to too, since you did. You played with his hair, rambling on about how pretty it was? Fluttering eyelids, profuse blushing, can’t handle it. He likes it too from then on, and hopes you play with it more.

- Of course, Thomas would adore that you were physically affectionate. He'd be more than willing anytime you wanted hugs or kisses, his tummy always filling with butterflies at your touches. Besides kisses, he'd especially adore casual intimacy - touching his arms in passing, or playing with his hands and fingers absent-mindedly as you sat with him. It would make him feel so loved and happy. (Also: snuggling up to him/nuzzling into his neck. He would melt, amazed that you were so trusting and comfortable with him)

- Your sweetness would be so endearing to him, almost feeling undeserving of it. He'd question why you were so tender with him, often needing reassurance. He'd be quite protective of you anyways, but your sweet personality would only further this.

Brahms:

- This would be perfect for Brahms. He's very affectionate himself, so he'd be happy to receive any affection that came his way

- Seriously. If you began being casually affectionate with him, spoiling him with kisses, hugs, and little touches in passing, he'd do the same, probably taking advantage of it a little (only because he's quite touch starved)

- Compliments, however, would be received a little different. Not badly, only with more reservation. He's unused to them, and would often flush up at your sweet words, stammering clumsily to thank you as he tried not to blush too hard

- Your sweet, caring and affectionate personality would melt his heart, so thankful that you came along. Your sweet words and affectionate nature would be so mending to a severely neglected part of him

- Often times, you'd have a hard time getting him to let you go when you hugged or cuddled up to him. He'd cling to you tightly, nuzzling up to you and savoring every moment of it

Michael:

- You would have to be patient with Michael when it came to any kind of affection. He wouldn't mind, but he'd be a little wary of it, especially at first

- Gentle, caring and purposeful touches would soften him up a bit. Things like you caring for any wounds he happened to get while ~out and about~, and looking after him in ways he wasn't used to

- Compliments and doting would be met with surprise, though you wouldn't be able to tell. If you look closely enough, you'll see his eyes are widened behind his mask when you speak lovingly of him

- Your sweet personality would intrigue him, especially seeing as he was the object of your affections. His own affection would be shown by being protective and gentle with you, willingly accepting your affection, albeit with some amount of awkwardness

- He would have a hard time not letting his guard down and completely melting into your touches and at your affection. Slowly but surely, he’d loosen up. One day you’d absent-mindedly lift your hand to his arm or cheek once he was warmed up to you, and he’d surprise you by leaning into it just slightly, scanning your reaction nervously. Don’t push your luck and overreact though, he’ll get awkward and temporarily disappear. An encouraging smile will do!

Jason:

- Jason would *adore* this. So much. You would always make him feel so warm and loved, any insecurities he had would slowly melt away

- He would feel grateful that he wore a mask sometimes, embarrassed at how flushed you could make him without even having to try

- Has some reservations about physical affection at first, but your patience and sweetness would rapidly chip away at them. In fact, he'd regret keeping you at arms length at first, as he'd worry you weren't being as affectionate as you wanted to be because of it (you actually were, he just wants more)

- You can always tell he's beaming beneath the mask when you compliment him, savoring your words and making sure he won't forget them. Although he might not always agree with the sweet things you said about him, they made him feel special and loved

- His biggest weakness would be his neck. You would occasionally kiss the side of his neck near his jaw in lieu of his face when he wore his mask, and each time you could watch as his ears turned crimson, eyes widened slightly, always prompting a giggle from you

Bubba:

- Bubba is quite affectionate too, so you'd be a cute match

- He might have reservations about being too affectionate in the beginning, as he wouldn't want to scare you away. However, when you proved yourself to be just the same as him, the dam would break and he'd rarely not be spoiling you with affection

- Your compliments and sweet words would always leave him a blushing mess, genuinely confounded at how you could make him feel so warm and fluttery inside

- Bubba is definitely the cuddliest so prepare yourself for endless snuggles, happy to return your affection like that. If you were to walk up and give him a random hug, he'd melt, dragging you off somewhere to sit with you for hours, you snuggled up in his arms

- He cannot cope with the casual little kisses you give him, especially if you pepper them across his face. He would never get used to them despite loving them, turning the sweetest shade of pink each time and rambling on in a sort of awkward panic

Chop Top:

- Chop Top would lovingly tease you about how affectionate you were with him, finding it completely adorable. He would end up shutting up about it as he wouldn’t want to discourage you, though

- Compliments and sweet words would be met with a big, silly smile or chuckle, followed by him asking you if you really meant it. He’d find you so sweet, and would return your affectionate words in his own weird, Chop Top-esque way

- Nothing has an effect on him quite like random, unexpected touches. He’ll be going on in his typical loud, extra way when you’d stand next to him and slip your hand into his, your other hand clinging to his arm as you pressed up to him slightly. His voice would falter as he glanced at you with a nervous chuckle, rambling nervously and trying to remain ~composed~

- Your sweetness would be somewhat puzzling to him, particularly because it was directed toward him. He wouldn’t be used to people being so gentle and polite with him, so he wouldn’t even know what to do with it at first

- Ends up being more affectionate than you. He loves having you in his arms and smothering you with chaotic, needy kisses. He’d have loads of weird, super-specific nicknames he’d call you, and would love if you had some for him, too.

Nubbins:

- So soft for you! Seriously. He'd treat you like you were made of glass, uncharacteristically protective of you

- Anytime you touched him he'd break into the sweetest smile, melting into your hands. *Loves* when you play with his hair, nuzzling up against your hand

- Anytime you complimented him, called him loving nicknames, or anything like that he'd flush up and wouldn't be able to stop smiling

- He's so used to being mistreated that your sweet and gentle personality would make his heart race. He'd cling to you any chance he got, finding comfort in you

- He’d be just affectionate back, but in a sort of clumsy, awkward way. It would be new to him, and he’d want to be all gentle and sweet with you, but instead he’d be a bit rough and unpracticed. He’d play with your hair a bit roughly, hug you a little too tightly, and would kiss you with too much fervor for it to be as sweet as the intention behind it

Beetlejuice:

- Beetlejuice wouldn't really know how to take this/deal with it. He can be quite vulgar and straightforward, so it would be an adjustment. Not an unwelcome one, just different

- He'd find himself getting embarrassed by his own lewd comments and gestures, finding you far too sweet for that, and wanting to treat you as such

- When you complimented him, his first instinct would be to be cocky and teasing about it. As he realized how genuine you were, he'd get surprisingly embarrassed, genuinely appreciating your words and not forgetting them

- Finds himself adoring your soft, sweet touches, leaning into them and hoping they'd last longer than they did. Of course, you were always happy to cater to him, stopping whatever you were doing to shower him with soft attention that you knew he needed more than he was aware

- His personality would completely soften around you, looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. The second someone else was around though? Back to his usual shenanigans.

Candyman:

- Daniel would pretty much be the same as you, always spoiling you with the sweetest, loveliest words that would leave your heart fluttering and cheeks flushed

- He'd find your sweet personality endearing, being particularly gentle and soft with you. Any kind of affection you wanted, you would get

- Adores your touches, and returns them without hesitation. He's a romantic, so he'd love your kisses in particular, smiling anytime you would randomly kiss him, and often wrapping you up to steal more than a simple peck

- He would be so sweet and romantic constantly, cherishing every little bit of affection you gave him. He’d always be amazed at how gentle you were and how you made him feel

- He would (not so) secretly love being doted over by you. Would melt at how adoringly you looked at him, and would be happy to just sit with you as you snuggled up to him, making him feel all soft and special

Bo:

- This is so foreign to Bo. Literally, he'd look at you like you were absolutely nuts, having no idea how to react to half the things you said

- Your soft, doting words flustered him far more than he would have liked to admit, even to himself. Every compliment would wrap itself around his thoughts and tug at his heartstrings

- Did you really mean the things you said about him? You were so soft and genuine, he was always amazed at how you could feel so sweetly toward him. He'd feel so privileged, in a way, to be the object of your affections

- Your physical affection would *always* be welcome. He would definitely return it, though not without some amount of flirting and teasing. Calls you every cute moniker in the book, sweetheart being his favorite for you. (He’d never admit it but if you call him things like that too, he’d melt)

- Of course, he'd adore whatever affection you gave him, but it would be the sweet, unfamiliar things that would really get him. If you held his hand in yours as you walked, kissed his cheeks, played with his hair or even did something as silly as booping his nose, he'd scoff, half rolling his eyes and pretending to find it silly. The pink spreading across his cheeks and nose would not be lost on you, though, nor the soft smile that would slowly emerge

Vincent:

- Vincent would be a little bit nervous about affection at first. He'd definitely want it, but it would just be new to him. He'd have to warm up to you first

- Verbal affection would be best in the beginning, sweet words easing him up to you (and making it much harder to keep you at arms length). If he allowed you to see him without his mask, he'd rarely not be blushing (to be honest, you would be able to sense that he was anyways, even when he did wear it)

- Little things like touching his shoulders or arms in passing would make him so soft. When he's comfortable with it, you'd begin holding his hands and hugging him, which would almost always result in him nuzzling up to you and rapidly getting clingy

- His favorite thing would be cuddling up with you for hours, feeling safe and warm tangled up with you. He’d also love when you played with his hair, and kissed the scarred side of his face, quickly getting overwhelmed with emotion

- He would be as caring and sweet toward you as you would be with him. Your loving personality would be deeply appreciated by him, and he’d make sure that you knew it

Lester:

- Lester would be the softest ever for you, your sweet personality being what drew him to you. He'd be used to people being mean and rude, so when you weren't, he'd already be putty in your hands

- Every word that came out of your mouth would prompt a big, expectant smile, no matter what it was about. However, anytime you indulged him with compliments and kindness, he'd hardly be able to maintain eye contact, too embarrassed and flattered to even properly hear you

- Being with you would perpetually keep him in a good mood. No amount of meanness from anyone would matter anymore — if you liked him, that's all that would matter!

- He spoils you just as much with affection and compliments as you do him, thinking you were the sweetest person on earth, and wanting you to know it

- Loves all kinds of physical affection you give him, but he really just likes to have you close. Hand holding, arms wrapped around each other, and so on would make feel safe and warm

Graverobber:

- Graverobber would be pleasantly surprised with how soft you were with him, finding himself almost amused by it. Not in a bad way, but as with almost everyone else he just wouldn’t expect it

- Any random affection, verbal or physical, would be met with a cocked eyebrow and a small smirk — only because he loves watching the blush creep over your cheeks in embarrassment

- He’d love it though, and would be quick to reassure you despite his initial teasing. He’d find you so endearing and would appreciate you a lot, though he’d be more apt to express it with actions rather than words

- Alternatively to teasing when you were being particularly sweet, he’d pull you up next to him and wrap his arm around you. If you were alone, he’d be a bit touchier, peppering your face with kisses and grinning in satisfaction as he made you laugh and blush

- He would find you so cute, often unable to keep a smile off his face when you were around

Luigi:

- You would certainly be a stark contrast to Luigi. This pairing would be a mystery to his family and pretty much everyone else, though he wouldn’t understand why

- Your sweet, affectionate personality would cut through his angry, brazen one a little, at least when he was around you. Despite his temper, he'd have a hard time actually getting angry when you were around, even toward other people (this results in everyone else hoping you would stay attached at the hip, so to speak. Please)

- He'd adore your affection, needing soft and sweet attention more than he knew. He'd love to be wrapped up in your arms, or have you wrapped up in his — it really wouldn’t matter, he’d be happy either way. (Also likes PDA, as he's a show-off)

- Your praises and compliments would always light up his face with an endearing smile. He'd go out of his way to impress you and live up to your words. He could also be quite smug, too, agreeing with your compliments half-seriously and half in an attempt to make you laugh

- You would (unintentionally) have him wrapped around your finger, without him even realizing it.

Pavi:

- Pavi would be fascinated by this, so used to less innocent forms of affection. He definitely wouldn't be used to sincere, loving words directed toward him, especially paired with innocent touches without ulterior motive

- He's used to people flocking around him to simulate whatever he wanted, often times because of who he was, rather than out of genuine interest. If you gave him attention freely, because you wanted to, it would unlock a completely different side of him

- He would be enamored with you, quickly losing interest in everyone else as he fixated on you. Your praises, kindness and attention would always leave him a smiling mess

- Needless to say, Pavi is very physically affectionate, so he'd adore that you were, too. You wouldn't have many opportunities to initiate it, though, as he'd be quite clingy and touchy without prompting

- Pavi returns affection and compliments, of course. He praises you and talks sweetly (at least, you think it’s sweet?) in his typical eccentric way, bragging about you and how much you loved ~the Pavi~ to his siblings (and probably anyone who listens)

Billy Lenz:

- Billy can say the lewdest things, yet somehow still manages to get flustered when you give him any type of affection

- That doesn't mean he doesn't like it though. Quite contrarily, he'd (discreetly, or so he thought) give you every opportunity to give him affection, not wanting to seem obvious or have to ask

- He could literally curl up in your lap like a cat and just fall asleep, clinging to you and melting into your touches

- Your compliments would often be received with a clumsy attempt at self-assuredness, too embarrassed by your sweet words to keep up the ruse. That wouldn't stop him from attempting it, though

- He adores your sweet personality, and would be far softer than you might think with you. Keeps lewd, awkward comments to a minimum and replaces them instead with sweeter, gentler words (well, to the extent that he is capable of, anyways)

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spiltscribbles · 4 years ago

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Ahh I've always wanted to send a prompt. How about “Whoa. Easy, easy. I’ve got you.” with some sleep intimacy. Can I just say I love you and your writing.

~Notes: 😭😭 OH KY GOD SUGAR!!! You are so beyond adorable! I love you to pieces! And I do not deserve such kindness💜😘😘 So I at first read this as sleek Becs i am an idiot... so honestly this is 4700 words of pure smut😳😌😌 but uts early morning so it’s stilly sleepy intimacy kvdjhj Thank you for the prompt! But if smut isn’t your jam plz lmk and I’ll write you something else😣😣😘💜

Send Me A Prompt | A Reblog Is Like A Huge

If asked to choose his favorite feature of Remus’s, Sirius reckons he’d have a difficult time with it, like to a ridiculous degree. It could easily be the dimple that shows up right on the apple of his cheek when he sports that glowing, reluctantly amused smile that only appears after Sirius or James have hexed a Slytherin prat right in front of him, and not even his Prefect sensibilities prove strong enough to scold them for it. Or maybe it’s the splatter of freckles that dance on the tops of his shoulders and the bridge of his nose right after summer hols, and he looks gloriously golden and it’s all Sirius can do not to kiss each one right in front of all the wizards congregated in nine and three quarters. Or maybe it’s simply the way he gnaws on his bottom lip whenever he’s thinking particularly hard on a subject— a habit usually reserved for potions lessons and when it’s a late night in the library and they’re both tucked away in a dark nook and Sirius has pushed Remus up against a bookshelf while stroking him in his trousers with intense precision. One corner of his mouth curled in challenge, dipping down to lick at that hollow on Remus’s long neck, tacitly reminding him that he best keep quiet lest Madam Pince has their heads on a couple of stakes she surely keeps beneath her desk for opportunities just like this.

Alright, if Sirius is being at all honest, it’s a frequently alternating list of all of Remus’s most splendid attributes, but at the moment, Sirius thinks there’s no question that in fact it’s Remus’s eyes that can ruin him with just a glance. His eyes that are a deep, vibrant green with flecks of amber that dance in their depths. Eyes that look like September, like the very start of their school term. Eyes that make Sirius think of the forest where Padfoot and Moony roam. Eyes that make Sirius think of fire lit common rooms and the taste of butterscotch on Remus’s lips, and such an overwhelming sensation of adoration that it could very well suffocate him if Sirius isn’t careful. It’s such a contrary color from the crisp and cool shades of emerald that accent the regality of 12 Grimmauld Place. Remus’s eyes are something warm and wonderful and where Sirius would gladly choose to get lost inside of for the next eon to come— Most especially if it’s a moment like this, with one of his hands knotted in Remus’s hair while the other one is busy thumbing small circles into his bare stomach. Where Remus is enthusiastically kissing Sirius back— fervent and famished and so fucking gorgeous— His arms loosely tangled around Sirius’s neck from where he’s lying beneath him, long legs bracketed on either side of Sirius’s narrow waist, and yeah, Sirius has always had three inches and two stone on Remus, but he often forgets that Remus’s lithe stature isn’t just for show— he’s got discrete strength beyond a normal wizard, and he chooses to fall under Sirius. Chooses Sirius who’s all hard edges and marble planes. He chooses Sirius simply on the merit that he’s him, and they’ve always been at least somewhat drawn to one another, even before either one of them really knew what it meant.

Sirius inwardly preens, presses more forcefully down against Remus and revels in the slight whimper Remus lets out just then, hands grappling Sirius’s broad shoulders just that bit tighter, keeping him close just that bit more desperately.

It’s remarkable.

The dormitory’s blessedly quiet this Saturday morning— James is off being a ponce on the quidditch field in preparations for their match against Slytherin in a couple weeks— the final one before they graduate and leave Hogwarts’ hallowed halls for the final time— And Peter had kindly buggered off after some not particularly well veiled threats waged by Sirius so he could get some alone time with his sodding boyfriend for Merlin’s sake. They have all morning to stay like this. Sirius can spend hours on end watching as the early light unspools in Remus’s hair— lacing into his curls and turning them a lovely tawny color— and he gets to revel in how Remus’s breath quickens every time Sirius bucks down and rubs their barely clad, already hard cocks against one another. And Sirius can whisper sweet nothings into Remus’s still sleep supple skin— sometimes filthy, and occasionally wicked, and always exultant— letting himself drown into the sounds that Remus moans out in turn, poetry if anyone were to ask him. And they don’t have to worry about nosey roommates or trying to keep quiet or staying inconspicuous from prying eyes that threaten to snatch this snapshot of bliss away from him.

If Sirius could stay in the slice of eternity for the rest of their days and beyond, he’d choose it every single time. And maybe that could be their future, their life after Hogwarts— far away from this looming war beginning to ravage their world as they know it, and divorced from the whispers of the Order that Dumbledore has created to fight against those barmy, blood crazed lunatics.

A future that’s normal and safe and glittering like the silvery film around their patronuses.

Remus would probably get a Muggle job, maybe in a University of some sort. Sirius always thought he’d make such a brilliant professor, make all the school kids mad with how he’s so brilliant and beautiful and compassionate. Sirius and James already know that they’ll both end up in the Ministry as Aurors, because of course that’s the job for a couple of dashing young lads such as themselves. He supposes by then Evans will have been convinced to stop the on again, off again nature of her relationship with dear Prongsie, but he knows that even if not she and Remus are as thick s thieves, she’ll never just let him get away from her friendship after graduation. So maybe she’ll come visit in their flat after her internship at St Mungo’s, and of course Pete is always terrified that if he doesn’t spend every waking minute with at least one of them that he’ll be forgotten, so he’d be there too. The five of them, bombastic and bright and babbling on a lazy weeknight with glasses of fire-whiskey and plates of take out and Remus perched securely into Sirius’s embrace, and everything being just as it should be. Something golden, something wonderful, something splendid.

But as he begins to nip at that point against Remus’s sharp collarbone that’s become his favorite through the duration of their nearly year and a half of dating, he wonders not for the first time if Remus has the same prospects— if he wants to spend countless mornings just like this and endless nights in a similar way, if he wants to pick up Sirius’s discarded socks and eat the dinners Sirius makes for them, if he wants to tumble so thoroughly with Sirius that they don’t even know where one begins and the other ends anymore. Sirius wonders if he wants any of that, or if Remus is planning to go back to Wales with his parents instead of taking up Sirius’s casually thrown around offers for him to stay in the London flat that Alphard had left Sirius along with the gold and the watch and all the expectations of doing better than the Black name has always meant.

And the possibility of that— the possibility of Remus not dreaming of the same forever as him— cuts Sirius to the quick, and he doesn’t let himself think about it, instead sits up on his forearms, so that he’s peering down at Remus now, and he cups the length of him over the cotton, squeezing to hear the melody of Remus’s gasp and grounds himself into the moment once more.

“You’re in a mood this morning,” Remus intones, more than a bit breathily while Sirius moves his hand to push beneath Remus’s pants from behind, cupping one of his cheeks for a good and proper squeeze.

“Mmm, careful, or else I’d think you don’t like this method of being woken up,” Sirius counters, feels himself preen at how Remus’s face dusts scarlet, though it doesn’t last long when Remus retaliates by tugging at his hair, beyond mulish looking at Sirius’s glee.

“You know, I do have to do some more research on that final paper for charms that Flitwick gave us,” he muses— the unrepentant tease.

“Are you sure of that,” Sirius asks, dipping back down to worry the skin of Remus’s earlobe between his teeth, while the pads of his fingers make a pedal soft trail to the cress of his arse, lighter than breath while he circles the small, tight entrance of him— just grazing around the hole with languid intent, occasionally dragging over the opening with a dry finger, never delving any deeper than that. And it gets it’s intended effect— namely, the balls of Remus’s heels pressing up against Sirius’s back, and him gasping out these guttural, maddening mewls as he tries to buck down, tries to finally get some penetration.

“Merlin, are you going to just tease me till those wankers get back, or will you finally fucking do something, Black.”

“I think I like keeping you on the edge, sweetheart.” Sirius retorts, punctuating the point with a small wiggle of the top of his pointer finger, the one now comfortably nestled inside of him.

“Absolute prat,” Remus fumes, though when he begins to try moving once more, Sirius stunts the action by lying his forearm against hiss lightly muscled stomach, pressing most of his weight there while he gives one final, goading push with his finger and drags his hand to instead rub against the expanse of Remus’s pale, thin thigh, wants to lap at the skin there but also doesn’t want Remus to win this little battle he’s waged— not yet at least.

“Well Maybe if you ask nicely?”

The twist of Remus’s features tells Sirius that he’s absolutely fuming, but also he won’t leave because he’s gagging for it just as much as him. “You’re the dog, if you don’t recall. Maybe I should make you beg to hump even my leg.”

“No need for such a wicked tongue, Moons,” Sirius sneers, hitches Remus’s legs higher on his waistline so that the head of his cock can graze at the concealed hole. “Just a please would suffice.”

Remus scoffs. “You’re mad.”

“I’m also very patient,” Sirius leers, begins thrusting only slightly, nudging at him and delighting in the flicker of emotions that flashes over Remus’s face— going from indignant to wanting to abashed and landing on a cool sort of resolve.

“Oi, if you’re all talk, I’m sure I can poke around in the library, see if Leon is still—“ The rest of Remus’s sentence is swallowed up by the frenzy of movement that clashes inharmoniously from one moment to the next. And suddenly Remus is lying flat on his front, with one of Sirius’s legs pressed unswervingly between his legs, an accioed bottle of lube in one of his hands while the other nearly tears Remus’s pants trying to drag them off.

“You’re such a little arse, Lupin.” He hisses, tossing the garnet to the side along with his own before he begins palming his prick with the Muggle lotion type substance Remus had brought along from after easter hols, when they had visited that brilliant little shop in Soho— and Sirius isn’t sure if he should be proud or simply smug at how it’s already emptied by half.

“You like how little my arse is, Black,” Remus retorts from where his head is now squeezed partially onto his pillow, punctuating the point with a small shake of his bum.

“Right, so that means I’d rather not think of the other plonkers who’ve seen it before I got my hands all over you,” Sirius snaps, not actually irritated— even if he hates the sight of Leon sodding Bennett more than anything else.

“It was just a joke,” Remus tells him, soft and sincere and away from that playful tone he was using from before.

“Yeah, you better have been,” Sirius says, but then dips down to kiss between Remus’s shoulder blades— to the left of where he’s got a hand spread across his back— just to assure him that he’s not actually upset.

“You’re brilliant you know. The best in every way, I hope you understand that,” Remus tells him, a bit quieter and a bit more reserved, in a voice that wavers only slightly with the nerves of the admission. “I’ve only ever been in love with you— And I know that it’s probably not the same, I know that you’ve had others and we’re only eighteen and—“

Sirius cuts him off with one single, quick smack against the width of his arse— an arse he can probably write a thousand sonnets and a million more odes about— and he returns to kneading at the muscle there. “Don’t be an idiot, Remus. You know I love you like mad, more than anything— you’re everything.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s good— Erm, I mean—“ Sirius can only see half of Remus’s face from this angle, and most of it is obscured by his curly fringe, but he can detect the pinkish flush feathering over his sharp cheekbone and the way he’s begun to gnaw on the end of his mouth, eyes half lit and hooded. And God, sometimes Sirius thinks that it’s the blind leading the blind with them as they dance along this precipice of the most precious thing either of them has ever held in their quivering grasps.

“Right convenient if you ask me,” Sirius says instead of something from the stream of soppy poetry he’s thinking about— the love sick lyrics dedicated to Remus and Remus alone. He doesn’t want to potentially fracture this single understanding that they’ve finally revealed to one another. Rather, Sirius scrapes another chunk of the slick, Muggle substance into his hand and cloaks himself completely before taking a bit of it against Remus’s arsehole, his insides melting like molasses once he feels the warmth of Remus cloaking him, the way Remus’s entrance is practically fluttering, practically trying to swallow Sirius whole.

“Oh, yeah— Just a bit more.”

“Shh, let me take care of you, Moony,” Sirius reproves with absolutely no heat, instead sounding more than a little horse as he adds another digit and watches as Remus expands beneath his touch, watches his long fingers being devoured by him— the bronze tan Sirius always sports during the warmer months melding into the pale patches of Remus that rarely sees sunlight— watches their jagged edges piecing together like a sacred tomb, and Sirius knows right then and there that he’d want to be lost in every facet of Remus for every eon to come, even when they’re nothing but cinders and ashes and wisps of starlight. He’d want this, he’d crave this. He’d always need this, need Remus in any way he’d take him.

“Oh— Sirius, please, right there.” Remus suddenly squawks, jolting forwards and grappling for either end of his fourposter’s wooden bars. “Pl— Please.”

Always beyond eager to watch his lover come undone, Sirius adds one final finger before crooking them inside of Remus, skimming the little nest of nerves found there, and repeating the action twice more before he hears Remus’s choked off demand, “Bloody hell, Sirius! Will you just give me what I want!”

“I thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.” Sirius absolutely beams, gingerly pulling out from his gaping and empty entrance so to lather himself one final time, kisses the freckle behind Remus’s left ear as he snakes a hand beneath his stomach to raise him up slightly. “Can you stay like this, baby.”

His arms still slightly shaking from when Sirius had been teasing his prostate, Remus nods resolutely, shuffling around so that he’s resting his chin on his forearms, and his back is arched so beautifully with his pert arse stretched back in an inviting fashion. “You just worry about making this last hour worth my time.”

Sirius sniffs, pats Remus’s behind with a tad bit more intensity than strictly needed. “You and that lip is gonna get the best of you one of these days, Moony.”

“Mmm, I’ll believe it when you actually begin proving as much,” Remus barbs, and God Sirius loves him so fucking much— feels his chest absolutely contract with the ferocity of it.

“Right, well, you just sit there, looking pretty. All right?” Sirius intones, cards a hand through Remus’s hair and tugs just slightly before letting go completely to adjust his position from behind him— both hands on either end of Remus’s waistline and his dick poking at his hole— and God the throbbing is becoming painful with how badly Sirius just wants to plunge inside, to fuck and pound and thrust into Remus until he hears his boyfriend— his partner— absolutely sing with pleasure. “You are beautiful, Remus, you know that, right? Know that I think you’re the most bloody gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen, that the scars just show how otherworldly you are?” Sirius emphasizes that final point by thumbing across the one skirting across the the side of his neck, stretching from the bottom of his ear and ending at the point of his collarbone. It’s the most prominent one, the only scar besides a scratch on his pinky that can’t be covered up by a trusty jumper or pair of corduroys. The one Remus is most sensitive about, and the one he probably hates nearly as much as the bite marring his inner thigh.

“Sirius, please. Just not now,” Remus implores, sounding like a blown out candle all of a sudden, and Sirius can’t have that. Doesn’t want him to feel anything close to shitty while they’re doing this, while he has him this way. So with an obedience he only has if Remus asks him for as much in his more cautious of cadences, Sirius clenches his jaw, and keeps the adoring words stuck to his teeth, and he distracts himself by finally moving forwards, and it’s like a blink of the eye wen suddenly everything around him goes hazy, feeling like a disillusionment charm has been cast with how everything feels intangible, floaty, feels unsubstantial in comparison to the hot, tight pressure of Remus wrapped around him, made all the more etherial by the sounds of Remus’s melodic moans and gorgeous gasps and the way he moves in tandem with Sirius, how he cants back to meet the electrical current of Sirius fucking into him.

And he isn’t sure who says what in the gargle of words being spilt between them, is pretty sure he’s saying something about how beautiful Remus always is for him and then Remus replying with something about Sirius giving more to him, giving him something harder, deeper, quicker, and then, somehow, Sirius has got both of remus’s wrists in his hand and he’s pressing them against the small of Remus’s back, and he’s slowing down, suddenly wants this to last so much longer, wants to keep Remus this pliant and open and uninhibited for him for just that bit more.

“Merlin, I love you,” he says, focussing on the sweat collecting into the divot of Remus’s pinched shoulder blades and leans down to lick over the spot. “So fucking much.”

“Me too, Sirius! Sirius, I love you too! Please don’t stop, please.” Remus begs, canting back and twitching his fingers, obviously needing some sort of friction, though Sirius doesn’t think he’ll give it to him quite yet.

“What if I do though?” He asks, affecting an innocent tone while he slowly pulls out of Remus, pushing inside with shallow thrusts now, giving him hardly more than his tip. “What if I keep you like this, wait to see how long it takes you to come off of this alone, untouched. Just by my cock teasing you like this?” Remus makes another, strangled sort of noise deep in his throat, and he shutters in a way that convinces Sirius he’s not completely opposed to the offer. “You’d like that, yeah? You’d like me holding you down like this and watching you absolutely go feral? Go unraveled beneath me? Hell, I bet you wouldn’t even mind if I kept you like this for the rest of the morning. If I fucked you stupid and didn’t let you come even then. Just plug you up with that naughty toy we got from that Muggle shop when you visited me over Easter in London. Trap my spunk inside and just keep you nice and open until I decide to give it to you once again— drag you to a bathroom stall or an empty cupboard and fuck you senseless. Bloody hell, Remus, you probably wouldn’t even last a minute, hmm?”

Remus stays quiet, doesn’t unclench that taught muscle in his jaw, but his pupils are blown and he’s completely flushed, and Sirius is so thankful he can read the smallest nuances of him, loves knowing how absolutely wrecked just the idea of that has gotten his beautiful Moony, the side of him that no one else could ever see. The side of him hidden by his aloof exterior and measured words when around others. No one else gets to see this hauntingly beautiful, desperate little thing he becomes under Sirius’s hand, how he’s strung to vivid colors by Sirius mumbling such wicked contemplations into the expanse of his warm, golden skin.

“Are you going to answer, love,” he asks, with a lecherous sort of grin, pounding into him with a lack of delicateness from before, only twice, only enough to get Remus writhing again. “Do you not want that?”

Remus squeaks as the top of his head grazes against the headboard from the impact, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut while his thin lips fall open. “I reckon— Erm, I reckon that would be all right. Just to try.”

“My lovely academic, has to give everything a go,” Sirius crows, returns to thrusting measuredly in and out of him, kisses the nape of his neck with soft reverence. “But you know, we wouldn’t have to sneak around like that in only a couple weeks. We’ll be graduated,” he twists his hips slightly and presses down a bit more viciously than the slow paces probably would’ve entailed, and Remus quite literally groans at the feeling of it. “I’ll have that bloody huge flat, and you could be there too. We could spend every morning like this, Moony my love. We could christen every sodding room on the first day alone, and then I’d make you some of that veggie curry you like and you can sit there with an ice pack on your bum after I’m done with you.”

“Oh— Hah, you think you’ve got that sort of stamina,” is all Remus manages out in response, his features going tight with hunger when Sirius retorts with a staccato of uneven thrusts inside of him, stopping only when he feels the release willing up his own body, doesn’t think he’s ready to end this conversation quite yet.

“With you in one of my T-shirts and nothing else?” Sirius asks, watches the way Remus’s toes quite literally curl when he slides inside his used hole once more, shaking Remus slightly with how he moves and thrusts and squeezes his wrists hard enough to bruise. “I bet I could get it up an infinite amount of times! THere will be studies invoked for the phenomena of my cock, Moony. Potions inspired that’d never work, because they could never get it right when I tell them it’s the sight of you waiting for me looking wide eyed and teasing— waiting to be debauched— that’s got me so erect. I’ll be a household name, you watch.”

“You— Oh, oh. Yes like that please Sirius just a little more— Hah, you’re a madman.”

Sirius leers, does as told and grabs forcefully against Remus’s biceps and pounds him flat on the mattress, fucking into him and thrills with all the different noises he’s dragging out of Remus, the way he can’t even form words amidst his groan. “Then you best stay with me, who knows what a madman could do all on his lonesome.”

Just because he’s always been a bit sadistic, Sirius stops his graceless rutting, lies nearly entirely against Remus instead, tugging on the back of his curls so that he’s got a better view of Remus’s gaze. “Wha— Oh, yes, fuck yes you plonker. Of course I want to move in with you, just wanted you to ask properly instead of beating round the bloody bush!”

Sirius feels his brows hike up, absolutely gleeful. “You wanton little slag, you just wanted me to use my manners, eh?”

Remus huffs, looking beyond grouchy. “Yes, yes, and obviously, like the contrary bastard you are, you decide to actually do as much when I’d rather you be beating inside of me., but thus is my fate being stuck in love with such a wanker.”

Sirius can’t help but cackle at the incredibly cross expression Remus has got painted over his features, and he pecks a path down his temple and down to the dip of his shoulder muscles in apology. “You know I’m not one for subtleties, Moony.”

“Humph, well how’s this for subtle. Will you just ruddy fuck me and keep this discussion on the back burner for afterwards?”

Always eager to please his boyfriend, Sirius gently presses him back down on the sheets and rises only enough so to continue the easy rhythm between them, only increased by one of his hands circling Remus’s blazingly scarlet cock, pushing him through the loop of his fingers every time Sirius rocks harshly into him, going speedier and speedier with every choked out plea coming from Remus.

“What about this for a wanker?” He asks snidely, snapping forwards especially roughly, and twisting remus’s prick only slightly in turn, knows how much he enjoys the contrast of that.

“Yes— Yes, yes, yes Sirius! Just keep going, please, love, please. God, I love you. Holy fuck.”

And it’s not another thrust inside before Remus is spilling into Sirius’s palm and the contracted muscle pumps the orgasm out of Sirius himself.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Sirius groans in a voice that’s nearly completely faded, and totally pious, careful to move outside Remus’s overly sensitive hole, and still panting while he absentmindedly grabs for a spare vest. He mutters a labored aguamenti before he brings it to Remus’s behind and begins to dab gently at the skin there, smattered with lube and Sirius’s come and a good amount of wetness from his sweat.

“Oh,” Remus shakes, sucking in a breath and tensing at the sensation of the intrusion.

“Whoa. Easy, easy. I’ve got you,” Sirius assures him gingerly, tossing it to the corner when he’s finished, and can’t help but kiss the small dimples found right against the skin that cups over his arse.

“The, mmm. The house elves, Sirius. They don’t deserve that to deal with.”

Sirius only barely manages to hold back the roll of his eyes at Remus’s tendency not to understand how much those buggers enjoy any and all cleaning. Merlin, leave it too Moony to feel bad about something that someone wants to do for him. “I’ll grab it later, promise. Bin it o whatever.”

Remus only replies with a soft sound of consent, letting himself be gathered into Sirius’s arms properly, his head cradled against Sirius’s chest and Sirius’s arms wrapped around him while he kisses the crown of his tawny curls.

“You want a kip then?” Sirius asks amusedly, feeling his own eyelids beginning to droop.

“Hmm, yeah. That’d be nice. Then we can talk about that hideously orange breakfast table you’ve got in the flat. I bloody well won’t be living in any proximity of that monstrosity, Padfoot.”

Sirius can’t help the laughter that spills out, and he agrees to the conversation but demands that Remus call Winifred by name, lest she gets her feelings hurt.

“Madman,” Remus reiterates, completely fond as he dozes off, and when Sirius feels the breaths falling out of Remus’s lips even out, he thinks that them nestled into one another like this might be the only salvation he ever wants to know, the only sensation he could ever crave— The only sunlit snapshot he ever needs for the rest of his days.

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #siriusxremus #wolfstar fluff #remusxsirius #wolfstar smut #SPILT INK #You are such a sweetheart Nonny #ILU #!!!

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silverdragon-imagines-blog · 3 years ago

Note

For headcanons how about Twilight who has never seen a rabbit discovers he is allergic to rabbit fur, or Time Sky and Legend compare their experiences time traveling, or as group cook Wild tracks what everyone eats and pays attention to what everyone likes or dislikes but gets frustrated because Fours keep changing

[So many good prompts but time travel my beloved. So take some 3 am bonding between these three ^u^ Hope you enjoy.]

Warning(s): Some spoilers for Skyward Sword and maybe Ocarina of Time and Oracle of Ages. Also swearing, but that’s just how I write them

Sky turned over for what felt like the fiftieth time. He turned onto his back with a sigh, rubbing at his eyes for a few minutes. Then he sat up, moving the sheets off him and touching his bare feet to the chilled hardwood floor of the Inn room. His gaze landed on the four other occupants of the room he had ended up sharing with.

Unsurprisingly, Wind was splayed out on his bed, sleeping peacefully, and causing Sky to let out a huff of laughter at the spot of drool collecting on his pillow. Warriors was on his back, still and stiff as he slept, while Hyrule was curled up in a ball with his back pressed against the wall. Legend's bed, however, was empty, the sheets thrown to end of the bed. His gear and boots were still in place at the edge of the bed. Sky furrowed his brow in confusion, though there was only one other place he could’ve gone.

Quietly, Sky walked over to the door to the room and slowly opened the door. He paused, listening closely to hear if anyone else had woken up when he had moved. With no new sounds of shuffling, the coast was clear, and he headed towards the main area of the Inn.

As he approached, the strong smell of what some of the others called coffee hits him, causing him to cover his nose at the surprisingly abrupt smell. If he wasn’t already struggling to sleep, that at least would have woken him up. Once he recovered, Sky continued, entering the lobby, and looking around.

There was a counter off to the side of the stairs, a woman with a beige apron and bandanna tying her hair back tiredly wiping it down. The room was relatively empty, no one sitting in the worn couches near the entryway and most of the wooden tables behind them empty of people. Sky could easily see two familiar figures sitting at one of the tables in the corner of the room. The Veteran sat slightly slumped forward, a steaming mug in hand, with the Old Man sitting across from him with a mug of his own, though it was suspiciously not steaming.

Sky approached the table, waving tiredly. Time acknowledged him with a nod as he took a seat while Legend raised an eyebrow.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Sky shook his head, crossing his arms and laying his head on top of them.

"Mind wouldn't shut up. Didn't hear you get up though."

At this, Legend chuckled, holding out his hand and flashing his many rings.

"Magic ring, let's me pass by unseen."

Sky looked impressed.

"Sounds pretty useful."

Legend smiled wider.

"Yeah, if only it existed."

Sky frowned, slightly glaring at the now laughing Veteran. Time was chuckling as well, taking a sip of his drink, the white streak on his upper lip showing that he was drinking milk.

The woman that had been behind the counter then approached with a tray at her side, looking at Sky, who now sat up straight.

"Did you want to order anything?"

Sky shook his head then paused.

"A glass of water maybe."

With a nod, the woman left then returned a moment later with a glass and a pitcher on her tray, placing them on the table and pouring water into it, the ice clinking as it hit the sides of the cup. Sky quietly thanked her as she left, watching as she returned to her station behind the counter, then he took a sip of his cold drink.

It was quiet, the three heroes quietly enjoying their drinks and lost in thought. The only audible sounds were that of the quiet creaks of the old building settling and the Inn worker moving around in her area. Then Legend set down his mug with a sigh.

"The silence is killing me, someone start talking."

"About?" Time asked, raising an eyebrow.

"How about your adventures, not like there's very much else to talk about."

"Anything in particular?" Sky questioned, running his now cold fingers over his sleep tunic.

"Have any of you time traveled?"

Time subtly flinched, while Sky hummed in thought.

"A few times maybe, though not for particularly long. Unless you count items that altered time in a small area," Sky replied, ignoring the prickle of his skin at the thought of the final fight he had in the past. He scratched at his arm, hoping that the action wasn’t questioned.

"So? What did you do?"

"Well, there was Lanayru Mines and the Sand Sea. There were these gems called Timeshift stones that altered time in a small area. It was pretty mesmerizing to watch the sand turn into grass or water after striking the gems."

“Fascinating,” Time spoke, “just those two areas then?”

“Well, kind of? It was all over the Lanayru region in my area, all spread out and if you struck one, then the one you had struck earlier lost it’s power. I enjoyed myself quite a bit while there, especially once I found a few treasures I had never seen before, though that was just because I had never been on the surface before.”

“Treasures?” Legend perked up at that, eyes seeming to glitter slightly.

“What you and I consider treasure are quite different, my friend,” Sky chuckled, shaking his head with an amused smile, “The Timeshift stones brought back ancient things, including flowers and insects. I ended up with quite a collection of those flowers.”

Legend shrugged, leaning back in his chair, then turned to the Old Man.

"Being called the Hero of Time, I bet you've done some time traveling as well."

Time sighed, running a hand over his face.

"I have, though not all of it was particularly pleasant."

"You don't have to talk about anything you're uncomfortable with," Sky said, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Well... there was the time I caused a particularly interesting time paradox," Time replied, smiling as he took a sip of his drink, “I learned a song in one time period that I then taught to the same man in the other time period.”

"Been there, done that, got anything more interesting?" Legend asked, crossing his arms with an unimpressed look on his face.

"I've done that too," Sky smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Fine then, how about going through a dungeon twice, once in the past and once in the present?"

"Okay, I’ve done that too, but go on."

Time rolled his eye, then leaned back in his chair.

"There was this dungeon in the middle of the desert that I could only get to after proving myself to the tribe that lived there. Once I got access to the dungeon, I had to first navigate the desert wastes to get to the entrance and then go back to the past to go through it the first time. Took a fair bit of time too," Time spoke, though he sighed after that, "That was only one half of the place though, and I had to do the other half in the present. Though I didn't mind doing that, it took much longer than any other dungeon I had done before."

"I can understand that" Sky nodded, "the ship I had to enter while at the Sand Sea took longer to get to the end of than I thought it would, but it was quite enjoyable."

Then Sky and Time glanced at Legend.

"I don't believe you've talked about yourself just yet," Time spoke, raising a brow with his arms crossed.

"Okay okay, you're right. Give me a second to think," he sighed, taking a swig of coffee.

After a minute or two, Legend put the mug back down.

"My second or third adventure, hard to say which was which, I met an Oracle who could control time. I had to save her from this witch by using her Harp to travel through time myself. As far as interesting events, I stopped this one idiot from killing his ancestor and making himself no longer exist."

"Time paradox, been there, done that," Time smirked, Legend looking annoyed at being quoted.

"Fine then, I did some similar bullshit to you. There was this one cave that I had to go through in two different eras, had to switch it up while I was inside it which was all sorts of disorienting. Got a new item, fought a mini-boss and a boss, got an important quest thing, you know the drill.” Legend sighed, picking up his drink again, “Fucking water temples pain in the ass.”

He mumbled that next part, though Sky laughed quite loud, startling the poor worker and Time, the latter of which looked somewhat concerned at the outburst. Sky’s face burned with slight embarrassment, though he giggled for a while longer.

“It wasn’t that funny, Sky,” Legend rolled his eyes, though the self-satisfied smile betrayed how he really felt about Sky’s reaction.

When he finally calmed down enough to speak, Sky wiped the small bit of tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes.

"That's pretty cool," Sky said, stretching his arms above his head, "So was that all you did then? Granted, I guess I didn't say anything much about my adventure."

"Eh, there really wasn't much else to talk about, I guess. Did some bullshittery, met some ancestors, and saved a different land and a few people. You know, regular hero stuff."

This earned a chuckle from all of them.

“You met your ancestors though? I think that’s a new one, if you’re willing to share some of it.” Time said, gesturing for the other to continue.

Legend sighed, running a hand through his hair and slumping forward.

“I guess it’s fine to share, but don’t expect me to tell you my life story or anything,” with an accepting nod from both heroes, Legend continued.

“His name was Sir Raven, and he was knight of Labrynna, the place I was saving at the time. He was serving the current Queen, and he knocked me around quite a bit when we first met. He was honorable, taught me a few things too. Of course, with my fucking around with time, I changed his history. He was a more high-ranking knight than before, not that anyone noticed though, so I guess that’s a win for me.”

“That’s really impressive though,” Time stated, “I think it’s more than others in our group can say as far as knowing our families.”

Sky nodded, taking a sip of his drink, then clearing his throat.

"Okay, I guess I have one more thing I could share. There was this guardian dragon in Lanayru, but in the present, he had died. I had to use the Timeshift Stones to talk to him and figure out how to revive him. It took a while, but I figured out he needed a specific magic fruit to get his strength back. Took some moving from place to place and going back in time to plant the seed, then back to the present to get the tree fully grown."

Sky drank some water then, watching Legend's interested look and Time's nearly rapt attention. With a smile, he continued.

"Then it was just a matter of delivering the fruit back to the desert via a robot who hated my guts."

Legend laughed at that.

"Somehow I can see a hunk of junk hating only you for no particular reason."

“Would you believe me if I said he had a crush on the spirit of the Master Sword?”

The admission caused the table to erupt in laughter, the joyful sound echoing in the quiet space. The Inn worker loudly shushed them from her place, Sky and Time shooting apologetic looks her way as they calmed down. When the laughter subsided, the three sat in silence again. It was only broken by a loud yawn from Time.

"I think it may be wise to at least try to sleep. We're heading out early after all."

The two nodded, watching as Time left a handful of rupees on the table and headed back up to his room. Legend sighed, running a finger along the rim of his now empty mug.

“He has a point, but I don’t see myself actually sleeping much tonight. Ah well.”

He stretched as he stood up, then turned back to Sky.

“You coming?”

“Yeah, just give me a bit.”

The Veteran shrugged, making his way up the stairs and back into the room. Sky sat alone for a moment, thinking about the other things he did on his adventure and how the happier picture he had painted didn’t quite match up with reality. Finally feeling the pull of sleep, he left his glass on the table with a handful of rupees, making his way back to bed and finally falling asleep.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #linkeduniverse fic #linked universe fic #lu sky #lu legend #lu time #silver writes #lu

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pod95 · 3 years ago

Text

Pairing: Finn Balor X reader

Word Count: 2152

Warnings: Smutt (implied)

Description: A/n you and your best friend Becky Lynch are sharing a hotel room together, but when her boyfriend Seth Rollins sneaks in, you are left with no choice but to sleep in his room with the guy you hate, Finn Balor.

A/N This is part of a series of one shots I am doing. You can read this and the others on my Wattpad, AO3 and FanFiction pages.

Room Swap

"Name please," the receptionist asked as you searched through your purse for your ID.

"Y/l/n. It should be a twin room."

"Ah yes, here you are," she turned to the board behind and picked out a key card. You're in room 412."

"Thanks!" you take the key card off of her and return to Becky, who was waiting with your luggage in the lobby.

"Everything all sorted, roomie?" Becky asked, thumbing through a magazine.

"Yeah I can't wait. Ever since you got with Seth we never get to bunk together. It's gonna be like old times!"

"I just hope you're ready for a wild night of stuffing our faces with room service and bingeing bad horror movies," she winked and giggled.

"Ooft sounds like a hot date," you teased her.

"Speaking of hot..." Becky gestured to the lobby entrance where her boyfriend Seth Rollins was bringing in his luggage. He made his way over to you and beamed when he saw Becky.

"Damn, you're beautiful. Can I get your number?" he teased.

"Sorry, I have a boyfriend. He's super buff and macho and could probably kick your ass," she retorted, planting a loving kiss on his cheek. Seth wrapped his arms around her waist as you smiled at how happy you were that your friend found someone who truly loved her.

"Are you sure you wanna spend the night with y/n? I mean I love Finn but we could have a LOT of fun in a room together..." Seth cooed, kissing Beckys neck.

"Hey, Rollins! Stop making moves on my woman. You get every other night with her. Go near her, and I'll chop that dick off!" you threatened playfully.

"Fine, Jeez!" he laughed, "We really need to get you a boyfriend."

You shuddered at the words. You had been secretly seeing someone, but broke it off a couple of weeks ago and you were starting to lose hope of ever finding a decent guy.

"You know, Finn is still single..." Becky prompted.

"Ugh no way!" you retched, "not even if he was the last man on Earth."

"Finn's a great guy! I really don't get why you hate him so much..." Seth shook his head.

"Where do I start? He's cocky and narcissistic, he thinks he's God's gift to women, he's always bragging about how many girls he's been with. Yeah sure, he's hot, but he knows it. Besides, he's a jerk to me whenever we're together."

"Y/n, you haven't even given him a chance. I reckon if you spent some time alone with him, you'd see all the good parts of him!" Seth enthused.

"He wears very tight trunks in the ring, I've already seen WAY more parts of him than I'm comfortable with."

"Aww, y/n, I'm flattered you spend your free time thinking about me in tight trunks!" came an Irish accent from behind you. You groaned internally.

"I wouldn't be... You missed the part where I called you cocky and narcissistic." you jeered, smirking at Finn.

"It's not cocky if you can back it up love," he winked, and you hated yourself for finding him so attractive.

"Right, sure. Guys like you are all talk."

"Oh one night alone with me, and you'd never want to leave," he went to brush a hair from your face, giggling mischievously as you swatted it away. "I could prove it to you tonight if you want."

"Oh my god, why are all the men in my life trying to ruin our night together? Go find some other woman to disappoint, Balor! She's mine tonight," Becky scolded him. "Y/n, we should go to our room before these Jackasses get in the way."

Becky stood up, kissed Seth affectionately and grabbed her luggage. You followed her leave, grabbing your things and saying goodbye to Seth.

"What no goodbye kiss for me?" Finn hollered is you set off towards the elevator, cackling at the middle finger you were now responding with.

When you got to the room, Becky kicked her shoes off and dove onto a bed. You changed into a tank top and some leggings as she looked through the room service menu.

"I'm gonna get some lobster. What do you want?"

"Ooh very fancy. I'll have the same."

You spent the evening pigging out on fancy room service and making fun of terrible movies before eventually feeling too tired to stay awake and nodding off halfway through the second movie.

Just as you'd fallen asleep, you were awoken by a noise. You weren't sure what it was at first, it sounded kind of wet. Then you heard a soft moan coming from the bed next to you and you looked over to see a huge lump under the covers of Beckys bed. Groaning, you turned your bedside lamp on.

"Really guys? I'm trying to sleep here..." you protested.

"Oh shit, sorry y/n. I'll just go." a naked Seth peeked out from under the covers, his hair messy and his voice breathless.

"No, it's fine just... Give me your key card. I'll sleep in your room."

"Really? Sure, it's in my pants. Thanks y/n, you're the best." Seth said, before retreating back under the covers, much to the delight of a giggling Becky.

You hastily retrieved the key card (room 426) from his discarded pants and made your escape.

As you stormed down the hall to where Seth and Finn were staying, you muttered under your breath. You knew that Becky and Seth were a couple, but do they have no boundaries? You arrived at room 426 and knocked on the door. Despite having the key, you didn't want to just barge into the room unannounced.

A shirtless Finn opened the door. He blinked in surprise upon seeing you, before smiling cockily.

"I see you decided to take me up on my offer earlier," he purred, leaning coolly against the doorframe.

"No chance in hell. Seth and Becky are 'getting busy', and as close as we are, I REALLY don't wanna see her O face so... Seth said I could crash here. Sorry to disappoint you," you shoved past, struggling to keep your eyes off of his impressive torso.

"Alright but I should warn you... I sleep naked," Finn beamed at you, amused by the look of horror that crossed your face.

"Whatever just... You stay in your bed, I'll stay in mine and we should get through the night without me beating you to death!" you smiled sweetly back at him.

"Oh come on. I'm just messing with you," he chuckled, grabbing a towel from the wardrobe. "I'm gonna take a shower, TV remote is there. Make yourself at home."

Finn disappeared into the bathroom and shortly after, you heard the gushing of the shower. For a moment, you imagined the water cascading down Finn's abs and trickling down his body. Disgusted with yourself for imagining such things, you shook the thought from your mind and turned on the TV.

Eventually, Finn emerged from the shower, and you were surprised to see him wearing a pair of shorts and a vest. You stared at him for a moment, still confused.

"Is there a problem?" he asks, snapping you out of your stupor.

"No! Not at all... You're just such a playboy, I'm surprised you're wearing actual clothes and not a towel that's far too small for you," you challenged him, secretly disappointed by the reality.

"Contrary to what you might think about me, I'm not a sex pest. I may be cocky and full of myself, but I'm not gonna go out of my way to make you uncomfortable." annoyed, Finn collapsed into his bed, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"Finn... I'm sorry. I'm being a jerk. Honestly, thanks for letting me stay here. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"Well... You can buy me pizza. I like pepperoni and stuffed crust please!" He grinned cheekily and you couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Pizza, for Mr Abs? What about all those carbs?" you teased him, picking up the menu from the desk.

"Well, you really upset me and now I'm eating my feelings," Finn pouted adorably at you, giggling when you threw a pillow at him.

You and Finn went back and forth teasing each other until the pizza arrived, when Finn jumped up excitedly and rushed to the door to collect it.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Finn asked, sitting at the end of his bed and tucking into his Pizza.

"Sure," you started flicking through the movie channels. "Oooh, Toy Story!"

You lay back, occasionally eyeing up Finns pizza. Your stomach gave you away and let out a thunderous growl, as you held a pillow over it, trying to muffle the sound.

"Do you want some?" Finn tempted you, patting an empty space on the bed next to him. Nodding enthusiastically, you accepted the invitation and grabbed a slice.

The room fell quiet apart from the sound of you and Finn happily tucking in to the pizza.

"So are you feeling any better?" Finn asked, grabbing another slice.

"Better? What do you mean?"

"Well you seemed angry earlier. It must be frustrating never getting to see Becky," Finn prompted, giving you a look of genuine sympathy. You were surprised that he had picked up on it. You usually had a bad attitude around him anyway, so it was impressive that he could tell you were more upset than usual.

"I was at first, but I get it. They're a couple, they wanna spend time together. If I had a boyfriend, I'd be the same, " you confessed.

"So what happened with that guy you were seeing?" Finn asked, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Oh that didn't go anywhere. Wait, how did you know about that?"

"Oh... I guess... Becky might have mentioned it..." Finn stammered, unusually flustered.

"Becky didn't know..." you eyed him suspiciously. Finn paused, thinking for a moment before sighing.

"OK fine..." he shuffled nervously. "A couple of weeks ago, I was outside your locker room and I heard you on the phone to him."

"And why exactly were you lurking outside my locker room, Mr Balor?" you teased him, amused by this vulnerable version of Finn.

"Well, I was planning on asking you to dinner," he quickly reverted back to his usual, charismatic self.

Speechless and somewhat embarrassed, you grabbed another slice of pizza and continued watching the movie. You're cheeks felt hot, and you could still feel Finns eyes on you. But even so, you couldn't help but feel surprised by how comfortable you were around Finn.

After several minutes, you dared to glance back at him. The glance escalated, and soon you found yourself examining his features in great detail. He really was incredibly attractive. Your attention moved from his dark hair towards his mesmerising blue eyes, twinkling with delight as he watched the movie, down his strong cheekbones to where an adorable, boyish smile perfectly complimented the rest of his face. As he turned towards you and caught you staring, every instinct told you to avert your eyes, but you just couldn't.

His eyes locked onto yours, holding your gaze as you felt your heart rate increasing. He smirked, pleased with himself for having caught you staring at him. Unblinking, he looked you up and down, licking his lips seductively. Bashful, you turned away, not wanting him to see you blush. Finn reached out a hand to stroke your reddening cheek.

Your skin tingled, as you nuzzled against his hand. Finn let out a low, victorious chuckle and cupped your other cheek in his hand, turning it to face him. You stared at his lips for just a moment before closing the distance between your face and his, stopping just before his lips. You closed your eyes, smiled to yourself, and pressed your lips to his. It was gentle and nervous at first, but as your hunger for him grew, the kiss became more passionate. You let out a small moan when he gently nibbled your lower lip. He pulled away, breathless, eyeing you intensely.

"If this goes much further... I won't be able to stop myself. Are you OK with that?" Finn asked, stroking your cheek. You nodded, never breaking eye contact. Finn smiled roguishly.

"Perfect." Finn grinned, tangling his fingers in your hair and devouring your lips, as you made a silent reminder to thank Seth and Becky

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think, and if you want a part 2 at some point in the future 😊

#fergal devitt #fergal devitt x reader #finn balor #finn balor fanfiction #finn balor fic #wwe smut #finn balor imagine #finn balor one shot #finn balor x reader #finn balor x reader smut

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well-in-all-honesty-i · 4 years ago

Text

TW: Suicide

OKAY SO- I wanted to talk about Mafuyu and Yuki’s relationship and why it ended the way it did. I should preface this by saying that the majority of this, although somewhat supported by canon, is my own personal headcanon and speculation. I’ve been surrounded by a lot of people who I believe Yuki to be similar to, but I am not 100% accurate or well versed and this is mostly just from what I’ve gotten from those situations. Also, a lot of questionable grammar-I type like I speak, which doesn't translate well haha.

So I want to chunk this into 3 big pieces because I enjoy organizing things: Yuki’s childhood, how that affected his personality as a young adult, and how both of these lead to his eventual death.

Starting off with his childhood:

This one is heavy speculation (as most of this is-but this bit is particularly so) since there isn’t much canon to support this-or provide a lot of insight. But, what little we do know is that 1) Yuki’s father wasn’t present in his life-probably even before Mafuyu’s father had been jailed-and that, 2) Yuki and his father shared the same bull-headedness (?) and pride that Saeko believes led to his death.

I personally believe that Yuki’s father was someone who might have struggled with some sort of mental illness, as well as has had a problem with alcohol abuse. I also imagine that he probably disappeared or passed-either due to some sort of alcohol-related problem or suicide.

Saeko, from how she is characterized in the story, seems to be a very strong-willed and assertive person. In the aftermath of Yuki’s death, she's relatively composed and seems to have almost expected this to happen, although maybe not in the specific way it did. [Ex: When she tells Mafuyu that Yuki was always the type of person to die in a chicken race (a competition of pride, of sorts, that usually ends badly) and when she mentions him being similar to his father in that sense.]

In the flashbacks in the anime, when Mafuyu tells Yuki that his father beats him when he talks, Yuki’s response of ‘You know, a real father doesn’t do that.’ doesn’t sound like something a small child’s first response would be. It’s a bit of a reach-but considering that, as well as how prompt the response from his mother seemed to be (when Mafuyu’s father was jailed-not much time seems to have passed, and since both of their mothers are present, I've always assumed that Yuki's mother found out through her son and acted accordingly.),- it would make sense that Yuki might have some prior experience with this. Especially if his mother had gone through something similar-she probably would’ve warned him very strongly against the ideal his father had set, making Yuki want to be very far from that.

Speaking of which-I assume that Yuki probably had a very rough-if short-lived-relationship with his father when he was around. Given the stuff above, his father was probably someone who was emotionally volatile and tended to lose control when upset. If he had an alcohol problem, he might’ve caused a financial strain that fell onto Saeko as well.

Since his father was out of the picture and Saeko herself wasn't around as much as Yuki might've needed, it would have made him both very independent from his parents and adults in general, while also heavily reliant on Mafuyu (Hiiragi quotes both Mafuyu and Yuki to have been latchkey kids who found comfort in each other), both of which twist into the situation he found himself in later in life.

Leading into his teen years:

Yuki, as a young adult, is very independent-he works multiple jobs to pay for the expenses of being in a band, makes a point to avoid drinking, and is very affectionate towards Mafuyu. I'm not too sure about the reasoning behind why the four friends chose the high schools they did, but if Yuki's mother didn't directly influence that decision it's likely it was a choice made in direct relation to their band.

There's also very little interference from any adults in Yuki's life-namely, his mother. As someone who was probably very busy working as a single mother to support the two of them, her mentality was just to support him monetarily and let Mafuyu provide the emotional support in her place.

I think she also assumed her attempts wouldn't have been well received-most people noted how close Yuki and Mafuyu were and seemed to always assume that they had each other handled and that nobody had to worry about either of them because of it. In every way, it was simply easier to show Yuki she cared by not interfering and letting him hold the reigns of his own life.

A big indicator of this idea for me what when Saeko talked about how Yuki ordered his own ramen, the type he liked. It's a small thing, but it started me to read because it highlighted the amount of input his mother had on his life; which was very little. I don't know if he even used her money or chose to use the extra from his jobs to pay for it, but either way, it sort of put their relationship into perspective.

The impact it had:

Yuki probably had a lot of resentment towards his father, or, at the very least, a desire to turn out different. And oftentimes when a person is very strongly trying to avoid turning out like someone, they ignore or avoid acknowledging the similarities, rather than accepting and working on them to properly change. Without a strong parental/adult figure in his life, he wouldn't have considered insight beyond his own experiences. He's characterized to be moody and domineering, and Mafuyu is too soft-spoken to have brought up most issues until it reached its boiling point.

I believe Yuki might have had Borderline Personality Disorder to a mild extent. Some symptoms of BPD are mood swings, impulsivity, impaired social relationships, and a distorted self-image. They usually have thoughts of suicide or self-harming tendencies. When they feel insecure in relationships, in which they’re usually very, very invested, they tend to lash out or do rash things to keep them close.

Based on my relationships with the borderline people in my life, I've noticed that they usually bounce between having great confidence in themselves, to being incredibly insecure. It's hard to explain specifically, but they walk a fine line of being insecure and also maintaining a painfully strong ego, which makes them react very strongly when provoked, intentionally or not. Yuki and Mafuyu have a different type of relationship than I do with those people in my life which, for the two of them, means that Mafuyu probably had to provide lots of emotional support for Yuki, while also under the mild threat of Yuki coming to harm by his own actions.

Being with someone with these tendencies who is also unaware of them is very draining, especially for someone as mild and soft-spoken as Mafuyu is. Yuki tended to lead their relationship and was probably very noticeable when upset-and for someone who might not be used to speaking up or someone who has low self-confidence, it is difficult to bring up things. It doesn't feel safe if you don't know exactly how it would be received. Especially if they are the person you are closest to, it can be anxiety-inducing to try and bring up problems that don't seem to be incredibly important or unavoidable.

So, long story short-Yuki was closed off to receiving any kind of proper advice or criticism that would've saved him. Another symptom of BPD, as mentioned before, is suicidal ideation. So, if all these things are combined, it's a lot easier to see how he, surrounded by only his thoughts and ideas, would make the choice to take his own life when provoked.

It wasn't specifically that Mafuyu had caused his death, but more that he just sent him over the edge he had been teetering on for a long while. He was like his father in the sense that they had the same flaws that just came from different places. Yuki's pride came from the flip side of his insecurities and his own early independence, and his mental health issues as a whole are probably hereditary. The specificities of his death, where Yuki drinks after avoiding alcohol for his entire life, feels like he failed in his effort to avoid being like his father. He was different as a person but in the end, their flaws aligned and brought them to their end in parallels to each other.

Calling back to what his mom said-it doesn't feel unexpected. It is shocking, but not a surprise. Yuki was fiercely independent and wanted to learn and do new things, all on his own-including his own death and whatever follows after.

[I wrote this a while back and didn’t really like how most of it was speculation and hard to prove-but decided to post it anyway because I spent too much time on it lol.

Like I said before, most of this is just my head canons, but I hope it made sense! Feel free to add on with your stuff/arguments/headcanons :)]

#given #yuki yoshida #sato mafuyu #character ramblings #tw sui mention #mafuyuki #given manga #given anime #idkkk what do y’all think #i’m bad at Tags #also this is. severely unedited.#as in i wrote this a while back #found it and just went #huh this is a lot of words. let me skim it. sounds about right. time to post!#WIAHI

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benwllbond · 3 years ago

Note

If you are still taking Robin/Julian prompts, can I please get some fluff with the two of them teaming up to play online chess and talking smack about their opponent?

i hope u enjoy this!! sorry its taken a little while for me to get done, i hope its kind of what u had in mind?? trying to write dialogue for julian is very difficult but i hope its okay!! if anyone has any more robin/julian prompts feel free to send them to me :)

i don't believe this has any spoilers for s3, but if u r super worried, this is written through the lens of having seen season 3, so there may be subtleties or something but i dont think so?

---

Chess had been Julian and Robin’s “thing” for as long as Julian had been at Button House, give or take a few days. They would spend hours sitting at the chess board, initially attempting to teach Robin the basics of the game, and then later trying to keep in their minds the placements of all the pieces as they played.

The board that had sat for years, when Heather owned the house, untouched and gathering dust, had been a host for years of memories, chronicling so many of the major points in what was shared between them, from the very beginning, when Julian had died and Robin had first elected to take part in the game, to now, with Alison and Mike in the house, shaking up their routines completely. It seemed to Julian that all of the most important moments in his death could somehow be linked back to that chessboard.

As such, it made sense that the both of them were resistant to change. The idea seemed sacreligious, almost, and although that would usually push Julian in favour of something, this all felt entirely wrong to him. Alison’s offer to let them leave the table where Julian had first learnt of his ability, the pieces Robin had learnt to play with, although tempting, had initially seemed too much.

Vaguely surprisingly, it was Robin who came around first; possibly it was the man’s familiarity with change - nothing much was left the same over the thousands of years he had lived on the land of Button House - or maybe it was just the intrigue offered by the prospect of the online medium, but after a brief consideration, he was more than willing to give Alison’s suggestion a try - and to pester Julian about it.

“We make good team,” he explained one evening, as they sat in one of the sitting rooms, enjoying the ambiance of the fire, “And we can both win game then!”

Julian did have to concede that he had a point there, but despite how much he enjoyed utilising Alison’s new technologies, he couldn’t quite find himself willing to let go of their little chess board, no matter how ridiculously sappy and pathetic it sounded. The temptation to try this online chess game was strong, but Julian couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“You just want to make all this extra work for me, don’t you,” he whinged, “Of course you’d go along with it, it's nothing to you!”

He didn’t even have to look to see Robin’s eyeroll.

“You as whiny as Thomas.”

Julian screwed his face up at the idea, before dramatically falling onto Robin, spreading himself out across the couch, his head in the caveman’s lap.

“I guess I can possibly consider doing this,” he groaned dramatically, and Robin couldn’t help but shake his head - he really was becoming far too much like the poet.

Nevertheless, however, he smiled down at Julian, who still had a ridiculously put out expression on his face.

“Love you.”

Julian didn’t like admitting he was wrong, but despite the awful cramps he was getting in his hand, if he were being honest, this was awfully fun.

He was still unsure if it was as good as playing against Robin, trying to keep up with where all the pieces had been moved, but it certainly had proven to be fun, so far at least, to play with him instead. It was nice to shake things up a bit, he figured, after 30 odd years of almost daily games, something new was nice.

“Take his prawn!” Robin exclaimed from next to him, animatedly pointing at the screen.

Obligingly, Julian agreed, wincing as he clicked the touchscreen to move the piece. “This is the last game for today, okay? This is hard work for me!”

“You not know hard work if it right in front of you,” Robin muttered, unhappy at the thought of losing his new favourite hobby for the rest of the day.

Before Julian had even had the chance to respond indignantly to that comment, Robin interjected,

“Dickhead!”

When Julian returned his focus to the screen, he saw that their opponent had taken their queen. Yeah, dickhead sounded about right.

The pair spent a moment in silence, staring analytically at the screen, contemplating their next move, calculating their next step. As the timer on the side of their screen continued to count down, Julian’s eyes widened in realisation and he began attempting to click the screen. When he saw what Julian was trying to do, Robin let out a pre-emptive celebratory cheer.

“Checkmate! We win!”

And sure enough, after a couple of attempts where his hand passed through the screen, when Julian managed to move the piece, the screen lit up with the message that they’d won.

“Aha! I told you, not just a handsome face!”

Robin rolled his eyes, but nonetheless, raised his hand, grinning, and Julian high fived him, somewhat reluctantly, because he knew what was going to happen next - the caveman was, if nothing else, predictable.

“We play again?” He asked, looking hopefully at Julian and he grimaced, both from the pain because his hands really were cramping really quite badly, and because he knew, as much as he prided himself in his ability to act in his own self interest, that he wouldn’t be able to say no to Robin.

“Genuinely though, one more game. That’s it, or you have to make Alison come and press all these buttons for you because my hands can not take any more of this! I am a respected politician, and will not stand for being treated like your slave, pressing all these buttons for you… I guess that is the burden of being the most skilled…”

Robin let Julian’s ranting and raving blend into the background for a moment, before deciding he had most definitely had enough - jabbing him in the ribs with his elbow proved to be a good enough solution to that problem.

Before Julian could start on a whole new tangent about his deserved respect, Robin gestured to the screen, reminding him of what was actually important.

“Game on!”

#ghosts #bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #robin #julian x robin #julian fawcett #six idiots #the six idiots #ghosts fanfiction

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aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

Text

Steadfast

Characters: Childe, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,241

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

Premise: He’d always assured you that he wouldn’t change, that he was still the man he was before. And yet how different things were, and how much it hurt to see what had come to pass.

In which the reader sees the changes in Childe

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for this request anon! Really from the bottom of my heart thank you. I really liked the concept of this prompt, I feel like it really gave me an opportunity to focus on how relationships change and grow, rather than always writing about new couples, or people just beginning to fall in love, although there is of course that involved. It’s interesting to see how people grow and change, even if it can be a little sad sometimes. Writing this was kind of depressing, I hope that this wasn’t too sad, considering you requested hurt comfort. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away…

Funny story, I actually hate one of the people Childe shares a name with. Look what you did to Cassandra Ajax the Lesser, look what you did… So to make up for this unfortunate coincidence I pronounce the names differently in my mind. Ajax the Lesser is pronounce “A-jack-s” and Childe’s name is pronounced “Ai-axe”.

I decided not to bullet point this, as I feel like it works better in a more “traditional format”, that being said if bullet points are easier to read I can go back and fix that.

When you’d first fallen in love with Ajax it had been before the change.

Back then everything with him had seemed so exciting, like stepping into the sea for the first time. You were a bit afraid, worried that you might be swept away all at once, but another part of you wanted to run straight ahead, to immerse yourself in this new and exciting experience. Wanted to keep going and never look back.

You’d known Ajax since before you could remember. The two of you had grown up in the same small village, where one could hardly take five steps without bumping into someone, and being close in age had made you automatic playmates. Ajax was a brash child, not always easy to get along with, but impossible to pull away from. Even when he knocked you to the ground, or sat on you so you couldn’t move, declaring himself the winner of whatever you’d been playing, you’d still run to meet him the next day, the tears you’d shed utterly forgotten. Childhood friends might’ve been a cliché, but it was truly then that Ajax as a person had begun to stick in your mind.

This only continued throughout the course of your adolescence. Attending the same schools you two were nearly inseparable, causing you merciless teasing from the rest of your classmates. Ajax apparently got the same treatment, resulting in him decking a kid who declared you two were going to get married when you grew up. He’d been suspended for a few days, but never seemed to regret it, and when you’d gone over to his house to ask about it he’d grinned as usual, proclaiming he’d gladly do it again.

Growing up was a difficult process, so many snags and pitfalls, new anxieties, and old ones that you’d never truly worried about before. But it was all perfectly fine with Ajax there. He was always ready to pick you up, and flash you a smile to go along with his help. No wonder you found yourself hopelessly infatuated him, years of trust and affection building up to the newfound feeling of love.

And then Ajax went missing.

You still remembered the terror that shocked your system when his mother visited, tone unnervingly light, asking if you and Ajax weren’t playing some type of game. You’d bolted outside when she’d revealed Ajax had gone missing, running towards the woods that was the only exit to the village where you lived. The adults had quickly caught up to you, but your fears had already grabbed hold, and you found yourself confronted with all you felt for him. You loved Ajax. How did this happen? Love was still so foreign, a word you could throw around but never truly catch. And yet you loved him, you loved him very much. And now he was gone.

They didn’t let you see him initially, saying he was tired, he needed rest, he’d be alright in a few days. Your imagination had run wild, your mind spinning a terrible story. Perhaps he’d been mortally wounded, perhaps he could no longer see, made blind from the snow and the cold. Perhaps he wasn’t really back, and they were simply lying to make you happy. These thoughts chased you, and it was only when you saw him again that your heart settled, even if a part of you whispered that Ajax was altogether changed.

He’d begun to leave the village. Though no one quite knew where he was you certainly knew a lot of brawling was involved. He’d sometimes sneak into your house, in a last ditch effort to keep his parents and the rest of his family from finding out how much he’d truly changed. You’d cried sometimes, seeing him with black eyes and bruising, slashes of red marring his hands, his arms, his face. He didn’t like to see you cry, would start scolding you, as if it was some fault of yours to feel worried, to care for someone who already was growing into a stranger. He always realized his fault though, and after a little while he’d pat the spot next to him. You’d sit down, head sometimes on his shoulder, listening as he spun his tales of greatness into the night, as if he were a knight fighting a great dragon and its army, rather than a troubled new adult with nowhere to turn to in terms of understanding.

When he’d ask you to be his partner you thought you’d never feel unhappy again. You felt like you were on air, kept grounded only by his arms around you, his heart beating steadily against your ear as you nestled against his chest. You could tell he was happy too, and though it amazed you slightly that he should be as in love with you as you were with him, you could only thank the Tsaritsa and every other archon under the stars, thank them for being so generous as to give you all you ever wanted.

It seemed such a funny thought in retrospect, when it was the Tsaritsa herself who was now tearing him away from you.

“Ajax, how could you?!” Your voice felt odd to your ears, somehow too thin, distant, as if someone else was saying it. “You knew, you knew that you’d have to join the Fatui. So why, why in the name of the Seven did you start that fight!”

“They were asking for it!” Ajax’s voice was just as raw, frustration mixed with something unknown. Entitlement perhaps, fear otherwise. “You should’ve heard the things they said about me, about my family. How they’d raised a good for nothing thief, a shithead who knew nothing more than how to swing a sword, and who would one day meet someone bigger than him, and die in the street, given to the rats, utterly forgotten. I had to prove them wrong! It was a matter of honor!”

“It was a matter of ego!” You cried, feeling the ground spin slightly underneath you. “How could you let them goad you like that Ajax, goad you when you knew exactly what was going to happen.” Sitting down you put your head in your hands. The world was shattering around you, and there was no one to blame for it except the one you loved the most.

“My darling, please, I don’t want to fight.” Ajax knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in his as you raised your head to face him.

“You always want to fight…” you replied, voice hoarse, pitched barely above a whisper. “And now you’re leaving, leaving to be part of an organization of cowardliness and deceit. What happened to the adventures you were going to have? What happened to the dragons you were going to slay?”

“I’ll get them yet.” There was amusement in Ajax’s voice, but it was clearly forced, and soon forgotten about. “I promise it’ll be alright, my darling I would never do anything to knowingly hurt you.”

And yet you have, you thought. You’ve run a dagger through my heart, and now your talking to me as if I’m not being destroyed by it. It hurts, it hurts so damn much.

“You’re going away.” You finally replied. “You’re going away to a place that will only destroy you more. And now things will never be the same again. Haven’t you wondered about what will happen to you there? If you’ll ever be allowed to return home? Haven’t you wondered whether or not you’ll ever see your family again? Things will never be the same again Ajax, never. You’ve crossed the chasm, and now you cannot return.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Ajax placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise nothing will change. I will always be myself my darling. This is only a stepping stone, a piece of my journey. I promise, I promise I will always remain as I am. And I’ll never forget about you, nor my family, nor this village. Nothing is going to change. I’ll make sure it won’t. So stop crying my darling; tears never looked good on you anyways.”

And yet, how things have already changed. Still, you said nothing, instead wiping your eyes and pressing your forehead against Ajax’s. His familiar presence was reassuring, and you thought of the years ahead of you, perhaps the eternity ahead of you, when you could no longer rely on him being there. Your eyes welled with tears again, and this time you made no move to stop them. You let yourself cry. If there was anything in the world worth crying about, surely this was one of those things.

There was a new name signed in Ajax’s letters. “Childe” was the first name, “Tartaglia” was the second. They seemed to mar the page somewhat, written in Ajax’s – no, Childe’s – bold, slashing script. You hated the names, hated the memories they stirred up, reminders of all you’d lost in such a small amount of time.

The day you’d found out Childe was to become a Harbinger you’d raged as you’d never raged before. Locking yourself in the small apartment you’d managed to find – having moved out of Morepesok once the memories had become too oppressive – you’d spent most of your time reading the letter over and over and over.

He’d wanted you to attended, writing you were basically his family at this point, and besides, he wanted to show you to the Tsaritsa. Though the line about family filled your heart with no little affection, you’d refused flat out. It would’ve been too painful, seeing the crux of his transformation; the death of Ajax, the birth of Tartaglia. Childe had said nothing to your refusal, but he was clearly worried, and for a while afterwards the letters were more frequent. But even that stopped after a while, and now you savored what little information you could get, the torn pages of last month’s note a testimony to how much you reread them.

You wished that you could somehow end this purgatory you’d found yourself in. Though you’d begun your own career by now, pushing yourself to your limits as you were sure Childe was doing in his, nothing seemed so important as the drama that had comprised your entire life. How long had you known Childe? You could no longer remember. Long ago, so very long ago. Back when the world was simpler, comprised only of candy from one of the big cities, and fighting over the best fishing rod. Tears were shed over particularly brutal games of tag, then forgotten the next day. How odd that world seemed now, something you could never go back to.

Every once in a while you’d be met not by a letter, but by a visit. Those were the best days. The days where you could set all your worries and your unease away. When you could once more press your ear against Childe’s chest and feel the steady beating of his heart. As long as you could do that, maybe it’d be alright.

“How’s my darling?” Childe’s voice carried down the hall of your apartment. You’d dropped the letter you’d been reading, his letter, and ran towards the entrance. Throwing yourself in his arms you wept tears of joy. Childe returned the embrace just as enthusiastically, though his eyes were dry. They’d changed, his eyes, or perhaps you’d just learned to notice the hardness that resided in them. “I’m home.” Childe murmured, eyes closed, expression one of perfect bliss. “Don’t worry beloved, I’m home.”

His presence never left yours the days he came to visit. Always there was an arm slung around your waist, or a chin resting on your shoulder or your head. His presence was as comforting as ever, and you soaked it in gladly. He’d changed. Not that you were surprised by that, of course he’d changed. His confidence was much more calculated, his words now slicked with flattery and deceit. He easily persuaded the fishmonger to give you a discount, and some sweet talk with the waiter at a café you frequented earned you a free lemon loaf. You took it, knowing that he just wanted to treat you, but the sugary confection stuck to the roof of your mouth, which had somehow developed a bitter taste.

You said nothing about it. There was no longer any point in arguing. You two were tied together by all sorts of strings. History, location, youth, love. And yet you’d gone your own separate ways. No more were the dreams of adventuring together. The real world had come along and stolen it away. The Tsaritsa had ripped that future from your grasp, and with it went your happiness.

“Are you happy, my love?” Childe asked late one evening. You were cuddled on the small couch in what comprised your living room. You nestled against Childe, breathing him in. Were you happy? No. But in that moment you weren’t unhappy either. In that moment you could forget it all.

“Do you think that sailors feel lonely?” You asked instead, drawing circles absentmindedly on the palms of Childe’s hands. He wore gloves now, expensive ones, not like the mittens that were popular in Snezhnaya. It was so odd to watch him put them on each morning. How things had changed. “They must be lonely,” you continued now, “for there’s nothing but the ship, the water, and the stars above.”

Childe paused, staring off into the distance. He did that a lot recently. You didn’t begrudge him it. Sometimes, when he was in a frank sort of mood, he admitted that he didn’t like the Fatui’s underhanded nature. Better to fight something head on than attack from the shadows. He’d quickly added on that it was the Tsaritsa’s wish, and surely she must know better than him. But it must’ve been difficult, following a path so different than the one you were born to. Betraying your nature, every day of your life.

“It must be lonely sometimes.” He finally replied, glancing back at you. “But I don’t think they’re lonely, no. The stars may be far away, but they’re steadfast, unchanging. And sailors will always be able to rely on them.” You were silent, considering his views.

“Still... stars are so very cold.”

“Perhaps, but they’re also beautiful, are they not? And like I said, who ever heard of a star changing?” A pause, as it seemed Childe was steadying himself, dipping into unpleasant territory. “I hope I will always be your star, my love. I hope you will always be able to rely on me.”

“I will.” You promised, giving Childe a quick kiss. You meant it, even if you weren’t sure that the metaphor was apt. Childe was forever changing; his mannerisms, his name, his location, his words. Sometimes it seemed as if there was nothing left of Ajax, nothing but a small sliver of light, shivering in the darkness that was fate.

“And I will always remained steadfast in my love for you.” Childe promised in return. “For there is nothing more important to me than family, and you are my family. You are that which I hold closest to my heart, and I’ll never stop loving you. I promise.”

His words were smoother than they had been before, polished by the need to be appealing to those who heard it. But you knew they were true. All throughout your life, throughout the pain, the hardship, the feeling of slowly falling off a cliff, all throughout that the one thing that remained was the love between you and Childe. Even if you had nothing, at least you had that.

“Childe?” He grimaced at the word and you paused. “Ajax,” you began again, “are you happy?”

Childe didn’t reply, instead leaning over to kiss you. You reciprocated it gladly, not truly wanting an answer to your question, although a part of you desperately needed it. Was Childe happy? You couldn’t tell. But despite your newfound hatred for the Tsaritsa, your disdain for the gods which had grown in the years of your hardship, your long abandoned faith, you still prayed to the Seven that Childe was happy. Because he deserved it. Because you loved him.

You tried not to cry when he left, wanting to see him off with a smile and a wave, the way noble men and women would wave to the knights who were on their way to save the kingdom. But always your voice betrayed you, cracking and shaking, trembling violently against the knowledge that you wouldn’t see your loved one again, not for a very long time.

“Be careful.” You whispered, giving Childe one last hug.

“I will.” He assured you, kissing your forehead. “You be careful as well my love, I couldn’t stand it something were to happen to you. If anything happens, think of me, I’ll rush to your side immediately.”

“Don’t forget to write,” you replied, switching the subject so you didn’t have to think about the implications of Childe abandoning the Fatui, what might happen to him if he tried, “your letters are all I have.”

“I hope that’s not true!” Childe said, tone full of false mirth. “I hope you’re happy beloved, I hope you find happiness when I’m gone. Your life ought not to be spent waiting for me.”

“But you’re all I have.” You replied, staring down at the ground. “Everything has changed. My home, my work, my future. Even you’ve changed, you just keep changing and changing, running farther and farther away. But you’re still all I have. And I have to hold on to you, no matter what.”

Childe brought his hand to your cheek, raising your gaze up.

“I’m not changing my darling. No matter what I do, no matter where I go, I’m still Ajax. I’m still the man who wants to spend his life with you, who wants to travel the world with you, fighting monsters, sleeping under the stars at night. I’m still the man who wants to wake up with you every night and go to bed with you every morning. I’ll never run ahead of you, I’ll never leave you behind. Because if I’m all you have then you are what keeps me myself. You are why I can still be Ajax. And that will never change. So don’t despair, and don’t let yourself be swallowed up while I’m gone. Live your life to the fullest, I promise I’ll always be there, waiting for when you need me.”

Childe waved from the ship he’d boarded until it disappeared over the horizon. You waved back, even as your arm ached and your hand fell asleep. “Goodbye.” You whispered to the wind. There was no reply, but then again you weren’t looking for one.

Childe, Ajax, Tartaglia. These names all belonged to the one you loved. He was a whirlwind, a rogue current which had knocked you off your feet, carrying you into uncertainty. And yet you welcomed him, longed for him, loved him with all your soul.

Even if things kept changing, even if the Fatui’s hold on him only grew stronger, you’d still believe in him. He was your star, guiding you through a desolate ocean. Even if he sometimes disappeared behind the clouds, he’d always be there. You had to believe that, had to trust him.

He was your star after all.

Your Childe.

Your Ajax.

#If you really want to feel down look up the lyrics to “Dear You” and have it on as you read #For some reason the Higurashi soundtrack really fits this fic #I realize there’s a lot of crying in this I hope it’s not too much #childe #childe x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #oneshot #my writing

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do the oxygen loss prompt with Cygate, but instead of the human being their S/O it’s their adopted human child? Sorry if that’s weird but I crave space dad content with every fiber of my being

There is nothing weird about space dad content, it's good and pure and the world needs more of it, thus I am happy to provide.

Here's links to other posts of this prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: You're Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Cyclonus/Tailgate

Adopted Human Reader

·Tailgate was the primary driving force behind your adoption, but Cyclonus was in no way opposed, merely more reserved as you were welcomed into their lives through an unexpected but life-changing adoption. Though somewhat new to being a couple and quite new to parenthood, they've done an excellent job getting you set up for your shared life together as a family. You even have your own room right across from there's! Today though you're chilling with them in preparation for a movie night, sitting atop a table as snacks are decided on and the list of potential films is narrowed. Cyclonus is mostly content to let the two of you pick what you want, though he does try to encourage the entertainment selection to be more... educational and the snacks a modicum healthier.

·Your greatest struggle is choosing the final winner from your options left, until of course, the electricity begins to cut out and the three of you are left momentarily in the dark. This alone would have been nothing but an inconvenience, though the seismic shake that hits the ship afterwards is far more dangerous. Nothing but a blur of metal in the dark fills your vision as the tremor sends each of you tumbling. When you finally orient yourself and the world stops moving, you realize you're being cradled in a panicked minibot's arms, and a blue visor glowing in frenzy is above you. Tailgate is checking you over like a concerned mother hen, and you're so overwhelmed by his fussing it takes you a moment to realize that he's also being held, and that you're between two pairs of optics overflowing with care.

·Cyclonus gently puts an end to his mate's impromptu medical examination by pointing out the more immediate issue; something dangerous is undoubtedly inbound. Tailgate may not have the same level of experience, but he's been on enough ships to know what an anchoring feels like, and regardless of the enemy in question things are about to get unpleasant. In unison they both agree to get you somewhere safe. Gently as can be, Tailgate reassures you that everything will be okay while stroking a little hand down your back. He promises that much, and Cyclonus firmly echoes the sentiment.

·Quite aware of how tiny you are, particularly in regards to Cybertronian combat, you put up no resistance to their plan. So long as everyone gets out safe, you insist. In a well rehearsed battle strategy, Cyclonus stands just behind Tailgate, but he's hardly the only one who will be protecting you. Your other adoptive parent has you in his arms and, with his smaller frame, is set up to shield you quickly from the front while Cyclonus handles any potential assaults from behind with his solid back armor. It's a routine they established just to keep you safe. Right now it is helping you feel like you're in a kind of moving fortress, and to be fair with these two that comparison isn't far off. Unicron himself would have a hard time breaking through their collective front.

·Perhaps tempted by your metaphorical thoughts, the universe answers with a challenge in the form of an entire squadron of enemy combatants, though your guardians are quite prepared. Before the attacking aliens can even charge, the two of them are moving in a kind of wordless sync, one that an outsider might think was the result of peerless calm. You know better when Tailgate rolls to slip you into a well defended little cove though, as you catch what's in both of their optics; fear. Tucking down as small as you can, you watch them attack with a kind of rage that juxtaposes almost fantastically with the tender kindness they raise you with. Few would probably blame you for having a hard time believing the same Cyclonus cleaving an enemy in half right now also sings softly when you have trouble sleeping... The same could be said for Tailgate, who fusses over you every time he feels you may be too hot or cold but is now pummeling an alien's legs so his mate can finish them off. Knowing that it's all to protect you is somewhat awe inspiring.

·No sooner has the last enemy fallen then the two are back where they left you, though this time Tailgate isn't alone as he checks you over whilst they walk, with Cyclonus inserting a quick request for confirmation that you are indeed uninjured. Admittedly a little dizzy from the rush, you smile and assure them both you're unhurt. At that they continue on the way to the well defended medical bay. You are actually far more sluggish than you think you should be, but it's hard to care about that in the face of everything else, and you don't really have to worry with these two protecting you... How lucky you are, to have been adopted by such a loving pair of parents. Being quite the unusual couple just makes your little family more unique in your mind. At such happy thoughts you can't help but smile, though it's weak and visibly hindered by how groggy you are.

·Tailgate takes notice of that sleepiness first as you become less upright in his arms. Giving you a little bounce, he starts to walk faster as the requests regarding your condition start anew, his visor growing worried as he sees your tiny frame failing to perk up. Cyclonus follows in his worry, especially when you prove physically incapable of lifting yourself up completely. They know something must be terribly wrong. Uncertain why they're so upset, you try to reassure your parents that you're simply a little tired. The rush of the fight probably drained you more than expected, you explain. Hearing how breathless you are in the explanation only solidifies their fear that something is wrong. Not knowing what it could be, they make the difficult decision to forgo stealth for the sake of speed; you need to get to the medical bay.

·Rushing air flows past as they move at speeds impossible for humans, drawing your gaze upwards as Tailgate reassures you everything will be alright despite your total lack of concern. Though you can see the fear in his face, you still appreciate how brave he's being for your sake. Having parents who prioritize your health as well as your feelings is a dream come true. Cyclonus is mostly silent, his optics on the horizon, but you know he's also concerned to an incredible degree. It's obvious in his optics every time they glance down at you so full of worry. Despite his usually reserved exterior, the big bot loves you just as much as his mate, and you've more or less had him wrapped around your finger from day one. You can still recall how they would lovingly ensure your comfort every time you went to bed in your new home...

·Both mechs can see you're drifting off faster with every passing minute. Tailgate tries harder to keep you awake as he watches your eyelids grow heavier, but his efforts prove to be in vain despite how badly he wants you to be okay, and his spark twists with anxiety. Cyclonus is the same, as both have no real idea as to what is wrong, and thus no real way to help you. Doubts that plagued them from the day they considered making you their own child return to haunt them in full force. They loved you so much, but there was so much they just didn't understand about your species, and what if that made them unfit to care for you? Would another human have figured this out by now? Surely you wouldn't be in this situation if you weren't with them...

·Cyclonus takes matters into his own hands, rather literally, when he scoops up his tiny mate to run at his fullest speed. Tailgate barely notices the action in his increasing panic. He can feel you growing weaker in his arms, but why? Attempts to comm Ratchet or anyone who might have a clue as to what's going on prove fruitless, and the two parents are left to flounder in their fear, the worst possibilities barreling through their minds in unison. You feel bad that they seem so scared, but can't bring yourself to stay awake as they request, the grogginess pulling you down in your parent's arms as it has under less dire circumstances in the past. The desire to sleep is simply too great. Isn't it ironic, how these bots are usually the ones pushing for you to go to bed, and now they want you to stay up? It's enough to make you smile as warm blackness finally claims you...

·Tailgate is beside himself when you drift off, and Cyclonus isn't any better, his legs giving out as he cradles you both. It's only by happenstance that a team of bots comes by at that moment, doing emergency rounds to gather the crew and clear out hostiles, and stumbles upon the terrified parents. By the grace of good fortune Ratchet is among them, and the medic is able to quickly put together what's going on due to his intel. Between the bursts of begging from Tailgate and Cyclonus, he's able to just break through and inform them of the full situation; oxygen has been compromised due to the attack. Before they can ask further questions, he explains that you need medical attention, but the ship is still under threat. It's somewhat obvious even in their cloud of grief and fear what he is going to say next.

·To secure the Lost Light, and by extension you, they wordlessly agree to accompany the group to the medical bay... at which point they'll leave you there to join the defense. Being by your side will do no one any good if the ship is taken. It hurts more than anything ever has, but they turn their mutual rage and pain towards the threat. All the while you remain in the medical bay, being stabilized by the medical staff who provide the care and oxygen you need to recover, their incredible skills ensuring you'll make a full recovery in due time. It's a prognosis that gives your parents relief but no peace when the battle is won. Seeing you in such a state still hurts in ways they can't begin to process, and thus they're left to wait in silent pain for you to awaken, holding each other as Tailgate weeps openly and Cyclonus internally.

·When you do wake up, it's beneath your favorite blankets, which were tucked about you just how you liked. A gentle but very concerned flurry of activity welcomed you back to the living world, and before you knew it your parents were on either side of the medical slab you found yourself upon, their worry obvious in every word and every inch of their expressions. Confused, especially by the oxygen mask on your face, you ask what happened to you. Worry turns to guilt in an instant. Tailgate starts with an explanation about what you do remember, gently asking about your recollection of the moments leading up to where your memories end. Cyclonus takes over for his mate when it proves too much, laying out the full scope of the alien attack and the atmospheric failure which nearly killed you. The brush with death catches you quite off guard.

·Unable to hold back tears, Tailgate bursts out in an apology for their failure to protect you, particularly in regards to not even knowing what was hurting you at first. Cyclonus gently shushes him, but doesn't correct the sentiment. Instead, he shares it, expressing his understanding if you have any newfound reservations regarding their parenting. Such a thought is so unfounded it strikes you silent. Why would this hamper your relationship in any way? These two had saved you! Their lack of human anatomy had spared them, and by extension you, from meeting an untimely fate in the suffocating attack. Letting them know as much, you can't help but feel a pang of your own fear when they appear unconvinced. If they're the ones changing their minds-

·Both Tailgate and Cyclonus react in a unified rush when you let that thought slip; they will never leave you, both promise at once. Tailgate assures you he loves you far too much and Cyclonus promises no challenge could ever make him leave you. It's enough to make the three of you cry. Clearly there are still challenges for your unique family dynamic, but none of you will ever give up. The challenges will just have to be faced together. Before you can thank them for everything they did your parents start fussing over you once again, encouraging you to rest while they adjust the room to your liking and promise that whatever food or entertainment you want will be there when you wake up.

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lost light #ll #idw #tf #my writing #my asks #anon #requests #cygate #human reader #self insert #cyclonus #tailgate

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moonlit-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Headcanons for being Dr. Strange’s Apprentice

Stephen Strange x apprentice!reader

warnings:

a/n: for some reason i never retain any information from dr. strange stuff? so if this sucks its because i cant process it. i dont like how this one turned out i literally have no ideas

prompt: anonymous: “Hcs for being Dr. Strange’s apprentice?”

you were led to become strange’s apprentice after a tragedy and a brush with death

you woke in the hospital with bad news, there were no other survivors in the accident you had just experienced

while you were recovering, a doctor came in to visit you

“hi, y/n. im doctor christine palmer, and im so sorry for your loss. but i think i know a guy that could help you through this”

she gave you an address that you sort of recognized

“177A bleecker street? isnt that the funky looking house in greenwich?”

“something like that, just trust me on this one”

“thank you, doctor”

at first, you were a bit skeptical, but you tried your odds and hobbled to the place on your crutches

when you knocked, a man in blue robes and a red cape answered

“can i help you, y/n?”

“oh, hi? sorry, a doctor at metro-general sent me here”

“doctor palmer, im aware”

“ah, she called ahead?”

“no. come in”

you were very weirded out

“so, what is this place? and who are you?”

“you ask too many questions”

“oh, okay”

from the moment this wizard met you, he saw himself in you

lost, hopeless, upset with the way the world had treated you

“to answer your earlier question, i am doctor strange, the sorcerer supreme”

“oh...i dont know what that means”

he found you somewhat funny

“in time, you will”

he looked back on the teachings of his former master to show you what it meant to start your training

you honestly didn’t know what to think of the kaleidoscope of the world projected in front of you

“are you ready to commit to your training?”

“sure...i mean, i dont have anything else to do”

a valid reason, truly

“your leg will heal naturally, your mind, on the other hand...”

“i know, i gotta do some spiritual shit to help myself”

“thats one what to put it”

it took some time for you to understand what it was that dr. strange was teaching

but once you grasped the puzzling concepts, you excelled

there was a fine contrast between you and your master

he was much more sophisticated than you, but he had a sense of humor

you were on the bubbly side, always goofing around with your magic

“y/n, how many times must i remind you that opening portals into the freezer for the ice cream is misuse of your magic”

“oh, come on! i just cant resist the hunka-hulka burnin’ fudge!”

“just...just walk to the kitche—did you seriously just grab it while i was telling you not to?”

*through a mouthful* “sohwry”

wong watches the two of your sorcerers converse often, it’s one of the only things that really makes him laugh

calling the cloak of levitation “cloakie”

it drives strange crazy dbshahhsh

but cloakie answers to it just fine

during battles, it sometimes flies away from your master to give you a quick assist

“thanks cloakie!”

being assigned “homework”

so much reading it could’ve driven you mad

strange explaining the eye of agamotto and the time stone to you

“now listen, this comes before everything else, you must learn to protect yourself because i’ll let you die before i lose this”

“what a comforting thought”

stephen was pretty up front with you

he didn’t like the way that the ancient one kept so many secrets, so he informed you and as much as you should know

“those yellow gloves look like you’re getting ready to wash the dishes” (no hate i actually liked them lmao)

meeting thor and loki!

“i think i’ll just send loki through the looping portal while i take care of business with his brother, would you mind keeping him some company?”

“i’d love to!”

and then you gracefully fell with him, he didn’t enjoy your presence very much

stephen would tell you about his life before he became a sorcerer

all was well for a while after that but then lmaooo a famous scientist just happened to crash through the roof

“woah, you’re bruce banner! love your ice cream”

“not now, y/n”

“my bad”

meeting tony stark and just kind of...not vibing with him

but something about him seemed familiar

“no shit, sherlock” (seriously im mad i this wasn’t in a3 or a4)

epic battle on the streets of new york that led to your master being captured by aliens

you and wong went back to protect the sanctum, but you pitched in to help fight the real battle

much to the dismay of wong

and then wong dusted, so you were left to protect the sanctum

you missed your master very much

in the next five years, you did all you could to learn about your magic

and your skills proved spectacular

you suspected that you might need to take dr. strange’s place for good

until wong reappeared right in front of you

“hello again, y/n. did you miss me?”

“miss you? wong, i’ve been dying over here!”

“that seems like an exaggeration”

helping to open portals around the world (and galaxy) to get everyone to the big battle

and finding your master, all had become right once again

“doctor strange!”

“y/n! i have to say, im impressed at how you handled yourself after thanos”

“you mean youre happy i didn’t destroy the sanctum or become interested in. the dark dimension?”

“more or less”

a teamup to remember between master and apprentice

returning to the sanctum with strange

“did you move the relics around??”

“...i wanted to remodel”

i cant think of anything else???? im sorry shhshshshsh

#doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years ago

Note

Can i ask for teen pregnancy with Sirius being pregnant, doesnt matter if trans or abo. It could be fluff or angst, but about how they would face the problem, would they be happy having a baby young or abort the baby.

((A/N: Fyi, they don't come to a conclusion in this fic. They talk lots and bring up different issues, but they don't decide on anything. This is trans, pregnant Sirius, and (in accordance with the prompt) is a teen pregnancy))

"I am going to commit a murder," Sirius said to himself, staring down at the results from his last hospital visit. The only saving grace in this situation was that his parents hadn't cared enough to ask why he wanted to get a checkup.

"Should I be worried?" Regulus asked, leaning against the doorway.

Sirius startled, hiding the parchment behind his back. "Whatever happened to knocking?"

"Your door was open."

"You should've knocked anyway," Sirius said, even though he knew it was a ridiculous thing to request. Open door meant they didn't have to ask for permission, and that had been the rule for as long as he could remember.

"Uh-huh," Regulus said flatly. "What are you hiding?"

"Do you really expect me to answer that? If I'm hiding something, I'm clearly hiding it for a reason."

"I was hoping that you were hiding it from our parents and not me."

"Well, in this case, I'm hiding it from all of you."

"Does your precious boyfriend count as part of this group?"

Sirius glared at him, hand tightening on the parchment. "Did you need something?"

"Not if you're going to be in such a shite mood."

"Then leave," he said, waving a hand like he could sweep him from the room.

Regulus huffed and rolled his eyes, but he left. He also closed Sirius's door as he went, likely to prove his point about the open door thing.

That was actually a good point. Sirius hadn't closed his door earlier since he'd assumed that the parchment was going to tell him that nothing was wrong and he should just wait it out until he felt normal again-- it's what usually happened when he went to hospital though, which is why he didn't do it very often.

He walked over and locked it, then went back and sat on his bed. Then he read the parchment again.

Pregnant, approximately fourteen weeks. Please schedule a prenatal appointment at your earliest convenience.

He had to talk to James. He folded the parchment and stuck it in his pocket, then shoved his shoes on and headed downstairs. "Hey Dad? I'm going to the Potter's."

"Okay," he said absently, then he looked up. "Everything fine with your hospital results?"

"I'll be fine," Sirius answered, because he would be. It might take a year or so, depending on his post-pregnancy recovery, but he'd be fine.

"Mm." Father looked back down at the newspaper. "Have a good time."

"Thanks," Sirius said, and he continued heading for the floo. It was a good thing his parents only cared about his life in the vague sense that as long as he was alive, they were fine with him doing anything.

He stepped out of the Potter's floo, casting a look around the room. James liked to lounge in there sometimes, so there had been a chance that he wouldn't have to go looking for him and risk running into his parents. Not that the Potter parents were bad. In fact, they were wonderful, but they were unfortunately more involved in their son's life than Sirius's own parents ever bothered to be. If they saw Sirius there, obviously upset, they'd ask, and Sirius, as a general rule, didn't like to lie. He wouldn't be able to brush them off as easily as he'd done to his father.

Sirius chewed on his lip and thought about heading home or just going to Diagon Alley and walking around for a while, but he did need to talk to James about this. And Merlin knew that he'd prefer to get this over and done with than agonize over it all by himself.

He headed to the backyard, assuming that if James wasn't doing his schoolwork for the summer, then he'd be flying. As luck would have it, he didn't run into either of his parents, and James was indeed on his broom in the backyard. It didn't take a full minute for James to notice him standing there, and he flew down to greet him with a bright grin.

"Hey," he said, broom in one hand and grabbing Sirius in a hug with the other. "This is a pleasant surprise."

He moved to pull away, but Sirius tightened his hold so that he couldn't go anywhere.

"Everything okay?" James asked, leaning his broom against the wall so he could hug Sirius back properly.

"I dunno," Sirius said honestly. Was it bad news? He wasn't certain. Was it good news? Well, he wasn't feeling butterflies, that's for sure. It was big news, and he didn't know what he was going to do about it, much less how he felt, so he couldn't be a good judge of if the situation was okay or not.

James didn't push for more information, letting Sirius hug him for as long as he wanted.

As much as Sirius would've liked to stay that way for an hour or so, he did have to do what he came here to do. He let go and pulled the parchment out of his pocket, handing it to James.

James unfolded it, eyes running over the words as he read. It was obvious the exact moment he reached the important information, because he froze. "You're pregnant?"

"Apparently."

"But," James looked up at him, "how's that possible? I mean, we used protection."

"Yeah, but not every time. We did forget once or twice, remember? And we thought 'what's the worst that could happen'?"

"A good reason not to get sloshed before fooling around, I guess," James muttered, looking back down at the parchment.

"Yeah."

"So... am I, like, coming with you to your appointment? When's it for?"

Sirius blinked. "You think I'm much more prepared than I am. I- sodding hell, James, I found out and came straight here."

"Oh. So you don't know what you're doing?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Do you want to figure it out together or do you just want me here for, like, moral support?"

"Oh, you're helping me figure this out. This is your fault, too. You can't weasel out of the decision making."

"I wasn't aware I was trying to weasel out of anything," James said, smiling slightly.

"I was being preemptive."

James leaned in, giving him a slow, sweet kiss. "We'll figure it out. You want to talk about it know or get something to eat?"

"If I say I'm craving ice cream, will you make some sort of pregnancy joke?"

"Er, not if you don't want me to. Non-pregnant people like ice cream too."

"I suppose that's true," Sirius conceded. He felt a lot more sensitive these days, but at least now he knew why. "Don't tell your parents yet, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course. But I mean, how long are we going to try and not tell people? We can't keep something like this hidden for long." He grabbed his broom, and they headed inside.

"Not... very long," Sirius hedged. "Just until we know what we're doing."

"No offense, but what's plan B? Neither of us know anything about pregnancy or babies or giving birth. If we wait until we know what we're doing, you'll have given birth by the time we get around to telling anyone."

"You're making this harder than it needs to be."

James shrugged apologetically. "I didn't mean to. I'm just worried. We can handle most things by ourselves, but this is sort of out of our league, don't you think?"

"Are you kidding? Of course it's out of our league, but I need to know if I'm keeping the baby or not before I start asking people for advice on how to do it."

"Sirius, darling, did I mishear, or are you pregnant?" Mrs. Potter said, making Sirius jump.

Sirius and James both turned to face her with wide eyes. "Erm." There was no graceful way out of this one. He really should've taken a look to make sure they were still alone, but he hadn't thought about it.

Mrs. Potter, because she was a kind woman, took in their shocked and somewhat frightened expressions, and said, "I'm guessing you didn't want anyone to know yet."

Sirius gave a tight nod. If she told his parents... well, he wasn't exactly sure what would happen, but he'd like to be the one to share the news, when the time came. If the time came. After all, if they decided not to have a kid right now, then telling them he was pregnant wasn't really important.

"Okay. I'll pretend I didn't hear a thing." She turned to leave, then paused. "However, if you had any questions, I wouldn't mind answering them, and you know that I wouldn't judge either of you, right?"

Sirius nodded again, not quite as stressed as the last one had been. Then, because that seemed insincere, he said, "I know. Thank you."

Mrs. Potter smiled and left the room so they were alone again.

"Bloody hell," James muttered. "I thought for sure she was going to lecture me about being irresponsible. I think it's because you were around. She really likes you, you know."

"I know," Sirius said with a smarmy grin. Then he got worried again. "I know that she said she wouldn't tell, but what if-"

"But nothing," James interrupted.

"I guess," he said, sighing.

"Ice cream?"

"Please."

They walked to the kitchen and James scooped a bowl for each of them, but he gave Sirius a much larger portion. Then he grabbed sprinkles, because Sirius liked his ice cream with a bit of crunch. He put one bowl and the sprinkles in front of Sirius where he was sat at the table, then grabbed his own bowl and sat down next to him. He gave it a couple spoonfuls before he said anything. "So do you want to keep the baby? I know you've mentioned wanting kids."

"Yeah." Sirius took his spoon and chopped at the ice cream. "It's not like I had any career plans for after Hogwarts, so it wouldn't be the worst thing if I had a kid right now." He stopped poking at the ice cream and sighed. "To be perfectly honest, I always thought that I'd have to convince you to have kids before we're thirty. You've got so many plans for what you want to do, you know? I know it sounds regressive or- whatever, but I want a family of my own. I want to run a household. I have a couple ideas for how to spend my time before all that happens, but it's not like they were dreams or summat."

"So you'd really be happy being a father this young?"

He played with his ice cream some more. "I think so. Wouldn't you?"

"Equal parts happy and terrified. Aren't you worried about doing it wrong?"

"A... little," Sirius said, frowning. "But it's normal nerves; I wouldn't describe myself as terrified. That'll probably come later, when the kid actually pops out. I think that's normal, though."

James didn't say anything for a while, mulling it over. He finished off his ice cream, gave it a few more seconds then said, "It sounds like you want to give this a try."

"I do," Sirius said immediately, "but there's so much to think about. You and me, for one. We still live with our parents. We're not married. I think trying to move out and have a baby at the same time would be a disaster. The sort of disaster where I yell at you for leaving your socks around or summat, and we never get better. And what about school? I wouldn't be able to finish my seventh year, and yeah I don't plan on going on to be an apprentice or a professor, but I'd still like to graduate."

"Mum might be able to answer that one. And we could both live here, couldn't we? I doubt my parents would mind. Dad's been telling me that he'd like it if I stuck around for a few years after I graduate, anyways. Not to mention, with how much they like you, they'd probably be over the moon if you were here all the time."

"I'm not going to assume that."

"We can ask." He saw Sirius tense up a little at that, so he revised it. "Or I can ask. My parents, our house, after all. If we were talking about living in your place, I would sort of expect for you to ask."

He expected for Sirius to agree, but instead, he shook his head. "We're in this together, so we should ask together."

"And that's only if you decide that you'd rather put off kids for a couple years. I mean, we don't have to rush this, but we don't have to wait another ten years either. If the only thing that's worrying you is school, then we could start trying to have a kid after we graduate. Or if it's the living situation, we could move in together after we graduate, and then give it a year so that we know how to be together when we're not still living with our parents. This isn't an all or nothing situation."

"That's true," Sirius said, adding more sprinkles to his bowl and stirring it all together. "I just- this might sound horrible, but I don't want to wait. I still want to graduate without worrying about making all my classes, but I don't want to put off having a kid because of it." He sighed, shoulders hunching in slightly like he needed to protect himself.

James chewed on the inside of his cheek, stomach churning. It's not like he disagreed with Sirius's decision for his life, but, "I don't know if I'm ready to be a father. I know that we've talked about it before, but I thought I'd have a couple years to get ready-- read parenting books and shite, y'know? I don't want to be a bad husband or a bad father, and I'm just- I'm sodding terrified, Sirius. What if we have a kid now and we're not ready? I'm not saying no," he added quickly, "but I'm worried."

"I know what you mean; I'm worried too. Again, I think it's normal, but if you disagree, you can talk to your mum about it. Hopefully she'll be able to tell us."

"Yeah. I'm sure it's a good thing that she found out so she can answer some questions, but I'm still... I dunno," Sirius said with a sigh. "I have so many questions, and they're all twisted around each other. Like, do I really need to know about where we'd live if there's no way for me to graduate early or take my exams late? Because if I can't do that, then I wouldn't need to know about where we'd live, but there's no point in asking about exams unless we have a plan in place for where we'd go from there. And even if there was something in place for me, what about you? I wouldn't want to have the baby and then you go back to Hogwarts every day for classes."

"So we should see if we can both graduate early," James said, but Sirius shook his head.

"I'm not going to ask you to do that. Besides, what about Moony and Wormtail? They'll die if we both vanish."

James was about to say that their friends would be perfectly fine without their presence, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't know how he had missed it before-- likely he was too busy from his own thoughts about Sirius being pregnant and the possibility of raising a baby within the year-- but Sirius didn't want answers right now; he wanted to talk about every eventuality and complain. The solution would come later. "Well, to be fair, anyone would die if they suddenly had to live without you."

"Don't think you'll make me feel better by flattering me," Sirius said, but it was obvious that he was fighting a smile.

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #sirius black #james potter #no voldemort au #filled #established relationship #hogwarts time #siriuslystarbucks

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tallmadgeandtea · 3 years ago

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A Little Message From Me (tallmadgeandtea)

Hello, everyone, it’s me, Amanda, aka tallmadgeandtea, aka the George Washington girl, aka that girl who won’t shut up about her OC.

Firstly, I want to say, thank you to everyone who participates in Turn Week 2021! I did not organize it, but I loved it- the prompts this year were awesome, and everyone who participated knocked it out of the park, proving that this fandom is still alive and kicking- much like the Continental Army... multiple times.. actually. I love this fandom, and I am so glad I was welcomed into it by all of you. Why am I getting sentimental, you ask? Recently, I hit 500 followers. Five! Hundred! Followers! I still can’t believe it, honestly. When I made this blog a little over a year ago, I had no clue what I was doing. I’d been on Tumblr for years, but I very rarely made my own posts. I was basically a Twitter person coming on here after I realized the Turn fandom didn’t really exist over there. I lurked the tag for as long as I could before I was like “Screw it, just make a blog!”

And then tallmadgeandtea was born, and I’m so glad I did it. Not only did this blog help me fall in love with history again, but it introduced me to this extraordinary group of people we have here. I have made some of my very best friends because of this blog, and I have the best followers and mutuals I could ever ask for. And, not only did you all welcome me, but more closely to my heart, you welcomed Elizabeth Walker and my darling SS&SP- which I actually published during Turn Week 2020. Elizabeth and her story means the absolute world to me, and I am elated that I have actual people who read it, like it, and let me talk about every. single. day. I love writing SS&SP and I love this blog.

On a different, slightly awkward note, I want to thank you all for sticking around during my many hiatuses of 2020. Life was shit, but I will never forget the kind messages and replies I got whenever I talked about my anxiety on here. Since the... events... of last year, this blog is basically the only thing keeping me at least somewhat sane, and I appreciate you all for still liking it even when I’m not so sane. I love making content and I’m so glad you all engage with it and like it. And I’m so glad I get to see everyone else’s wonderful content as well!

So thank you. Thank you for every follow, every note- every like and reblog and reply. Thank you for every ask sent. Thank you for letting me endlessly ramble about SS&SP and how I think George Washington is Hot. Thank you for letting me go on and on about my beloved Benjamin. Thank you for actually liking my music taste- which I can’t say for many people I know in real life. Thank you for interacting with each Tonight’s Turn and Tea. Thank you for reading any part of SS&SP- especially my one shots and long awaited chapters. Thank you to all the friends I’ve made- y’all are the best.

Five Hundred Followers. Seriously, thank you. Thank. You.

To War and Washington!

#sorry for getting on a tangent but wow!#wow!!!#I am so grateful #I just had to say something #I thought about doing one of those follower things but I would’ve been mortified if I forgot anyone. and also I don’t actually know how #those work #I love y’all #long post #amanda speaks #tumblr user tallmadgeandtea comments on the situation

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alionne · 3 years ago

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1 | Foster

MSQ spoilers up until the 65 dungeon. 1027 words.

(I did get a blowtorch for my birthday last week, so the combination of looking for foods to set on fire and this prompt may actually make me make bananas foster)

It is rare that Alionne finds herself with nothing to do. There is usually someone doing something that she can try her hand at, but it’s a particularly chilly night in Ishgard, and the streets of the Pillars are near-empty, as if everyone has decided that tonight would be a good night to indulge in rest.

And… she should probably be resting, too. Tomorrow, she and Estinien are to properly test Biggs and Wedge’s new manacutters, and set forth to do battle with Nidhogg himself. But testing brand-new airships alone might keep her from sleeping early, and the thought of battling dragons tomorrow has Alionne’s blood singing in anticipation.

Still, there’s nothing to be done out here, so she returns to Fortemps Manor. Perhaps the head chef will relent and let her in the kitchens, for once. What Alionne lacks in culinary talent, she’s sure she can make up for in enthusiasm and knife skills.

Fortunately (for the Fortemps staff, at least, who have insisted, repeatedly that a guest cannot be allowed to help, it would be terribly rude of them) Count Edmont catches her on the way.

“Alionne,” he calls from his study, and Alionne enters, just catching her gracious host tucking away a large journal.

Edmont gestures to a seat across the desk, which she takes, feeling slightly like a child in a teacher’s office. “Biscuit?” he offers, which doesn’t alleviate the feeling in the slightest. “Alphinaud mentioned your plans to assault Nidhogg. I can tell you are a woman of action, and I thought I might divert you, this evening, with some company.”

Hm. Okay. Entertaining their host feels like a duty Alphinaud might assign her, which helps her restlessness somewhat. “I could do with some diversion,” Alionne admits. “I have never been one for sitting idly.”

“You remind me of Haurchefant, when he was younger,” says the Count, with a slightly bitter smile. “Always running about, though I hear he has learned the value of words by now.”

Alionne returns the smile, hoping it doesn’t look as awkward as she feels. The relationship between Edmont and Haurchefant is… complex, she’s figured out that much.

Luckily, Edmont is happy to continue talking. “It’s the cold. Ishgardians were ever fond of the written word— journals make up a third of the works in the Saint Endalim Scholasticate— and now, with our freezing clime, the nights offer little else but an excuse to withdraw to pen and page.”

“Is that what you were doing when I came in?” Alionne asks.

“Indeed,” agrees Edmont. “Have you any interest in journaling?”

Alionne can’t help but wrinkle her nose at the thought, and Edmont laughs. “A few more nights like this, and perhaps you’ll give it a try. We’ll make you a child of Ishgard, one day.”

“Ishgard has been a home unlike any I’ve known,” Alionne admits. “Mostly because of you and yours.” The Waking Sands had been nice, but Alionne had been eager to prove herself, and as promising as the Rising Stones had been, they’d barely gotten set up before… everything. Haurchefant, and Aymeric, and all of Fortemps had been welcoming, first and foremost. Sure, she and Alphinaud had sought to make themselves as useful as possible, but it had never been an expectation. It was greatly comforting, and goodness knows the remaining Scions (for now, Alionne reminded herself sternly) had especially needed some comfort. After… everything.

“Full glad am I to hear that we have welcomed you,” says Edmont, “but fair unhappy, as well, to hear that you did not find such welcome as a child.”

And… oh. Thinking of home, and Alionne hadn’t thought of her family at all.

“My childhood was not an unhappy one,” she says, stumbling over herself to not give Edmont the wrong impression. Two parents who loved her well enough, nothing like… well, Haurchefant’s childhood must have been. “But my family is… particular. I don’t think any of them understood why I wanted to leave them, or even venture into the world at all.”

“One not need understand their children to support them,” says Edmont, rueful. “Halone knows, whenever I think I understand mine, I seem to be off the mark.”

Whatever expression Alionne is making causes him to look apologetic. “I didn’t mean to suggest your parents are… better than your experience of them. Indeed, I wish they’d been more supportive. I wish I’d been more supportive of my children, growing up,” he confides, and Alionne decides that it is the perfect time for a strategic biscuit, because she has no idea what to say.

“It’s taken me years to learn… well, it was never about understanding. I now strive to provide my family with a place where, regardless of understanding, they can find food, and shelter, and guidance, be it on how best to serve Ishgard, or how to distract themselves for a night,” he says, gesturing to Alionne. “A home, where they will be welcomed. If they forgive you, and accept it,” he says, a distant look in his eyes, and Alionne doesn’t need to ask which child he’s thinking of.

“And if you are lucky,” he continues, “your children will repay you in kind. They may not understand you, but they will emulate the best parts of you, mixed with the best parts of themselves.”

Alionne thinks of the last Fortemps who offered her food and shelter and guidance, and thinks that Haurchefant may be more like his father than either realizes, which is why she’s so surprised when Edmont continues, “Take you, for instance.”

It takes a moment for Alionne’s brain to restart, and based on Edmont’s slight smile, he knows it. “Me?”

“You came to Ishgard without an understanding of our customs, or our history. You know the origins of our war, now, but you do not understand it the way someone who grew up with it would. And yet, you are storming Nidhogg’s keep tomorrow, in support of our cause.”

“I… well, I— that is—“

“A warm meal, a space to rest, some conversation— you will always find them, here,” Edmont promises. A home, he doesn’t say, but Alionne hears it nonetheless.

#spoilers for level 65 #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #edmont de fortemps #my concept of family is not the same as edmont's but that's ok it's still rather sweet #i'm not sure I'm capable of writing something under 1k so we'll see how many days of ffxivwrite I do #ali writes

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itsxxalexx · 4 years ago

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Old love and New love

Pairings: Damon x Reader

Warnings: Some swearing

Word count: 1063

Prompt request: Numbers 48 and 92

A/N: This ones longer than the last. I actually kind of like this one. Hope you did too.

This was requested by @halesandy

Damon Salvatore was your sexy, sarcastic, and extremely hilarious boyfriend. You had been together for a year, one glorious year until recently that is.

The relationship started off great. It was full of passion and romance and you guys spent all your time together having fun. You would spend late nights partying, going on spontaneous road trips and surprising each other constantly.

You loved him more than life itself, so much so that you were willing to end your life and turn into a vampire just so you could spend eternity with him. You wanted to marry him and live a long wonderful immortal life together.

He was the love of your life and you were convinced that you were his. He protected you and he treated you like a queen, but things change. Life changes, shit happens and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.

Things had been strange the past few days. Damon had grown distant. He wasn’t taking your calls, the only thing he would do was send you short texts saying ‘I’m okay, been busy’ or ‘Sorry I can’t talk’ and the worst part was that you had no clue why.

After finally having enough of his bullshit, it was decided that it would be best to have a night out with your best friend Caroline and get drunk. Putting on your best party dress and perfecting your hair and makeup, you were ready to drink the night away.

You went to The Grill where a live band was playing tonight. The music was blasting, and you watched as all the people were dancing their hearts out.

“This looks great!” You called over to Caroline, yelling as loud as you can so she could here you over the loud music.

“I’m going to get us a drink! What do you want?” Caroline yelled back.

“Tequila!!!”

You had text Damon telling him that you were having a girl’s night with Caroline, leaving out the part about the partying. If he could keep secrets, so could you. It wasn’t a lie per say more of withholding the truth.

The night was going great, you were drinking, partying and more importantly, having fun! You went from Tequila to vodka shots and even some whisky. At this point you were dancing on tables laughing at all the pathetic flirting the men at the bar did with you.

You decided to call it a night. Your body was sweating, and your cheeks were flushed. Your body was tired and so was your mind, you had enough. Caroline was off somewhere with Tyler, so you sent her a text letting her know you were going.

You called a cab which to be honest was a blur, the space between leaving the bar and arriving at the Salvatore boarding house was a faded memory, one of which you couldn’t remember.

You wanted to find out what the hell was going on with Damon. Your Y/N Y/L/N and you did not deserve to be treated this way. Although you had no clue if this was the alcohol talking. You would find out sooner or later.

Stumbling into the front door and turning the knob, careful in case Stefan was asleep. You quietly made your way into the home, well as quiet as you could in your somewhat drunken state.

Before you entered the living room, you heard talking. You covered your mouth to stop making noise as you listened in on the conversation, yes it was rude, but you didn’t really care.

“Tell her Damon or I will” you heard a voice say. A voice you knew to be…

“Elena?” You asked coming out from the shadows.

“Y/N? How long have you been standing there?” Damon asked, stepping away from Elena.

“Not long… What’s going on?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I should go.” Elena muttered, gathering her stuff, and heading out the door. The way they were acting sobered you up quite a bit.

“Well?” You questioned crossing your arms over your chest.

“Have you been drinking?”

“I told you I was spending the night with Caroline.” She sighed sitting down on the sofa.

“No you didn’t…”

“Yeah, I did. I sent you a text”

Damon looked so awkward, standing there and you had no clue why? You stood up walking towards him and pulling him in for a kiss, but he pulled away.

“Damon? What’s going on between you and Elena?” You asked, you had your suspicions and his reaction just proved them to be right.

“What?! Nothing!” He exclaimed defensively.

“Damon I am not stupid! I see the way you look at her!”

“I- “

“No! You have been acting weird for days now! I find it quite funny how it started when Elena starts hanging around you again”

“Your insane! You are clearly jealous of Elena!”

Truth be told you were a little jealous. She was so nice and compassionate, and she was gorgeous, but they weren’t the only reasons. You knew of her and Damon’s history. He was in love with her before he and you started dating.

She and Stefan were dating and he fell for her, whether it was because she looked like Katherine or because he genuinely loved her, you didn’t know but what you did know was that look he had in his eye when he looked at Elena. It was the same look you had for him.

Love.

“I am not jealous of Elena!” You yelled.

“No? It’s obvious Y/N. You look so pissed right now and for what? Nothing happened!” He argued back.

“Do you even love me?!” you shouted not expecting it to come out of your mouth.

“Of course, I love you” He looked appalled that you would assume something like that.

“Just not like you love Elena.” You moved your hand to wipe the tears you never knew had fallen “Just tell me the truth, do you love her?”

“No…Maybe… Yes?” he sighed. “Yes, I do still love Elena.”

“You have to choose Damon. Me or her. I don’t want to give you the ultimatum, but I don’t have a choice.”

“Don’t do this to me.” He pleaded.

“I’ll give you some time to think things through” You spoke heading to the front door, Damon hot on your trail.

“Remember Damon, I’m not her and I never will be. Goodnight.” You kissed away the tear that fell down his cheek and left his home. As much as you hated to admit it, you would always love the oldest Salvatore brother. No matter his choice.

#damon salvatore #angst #tvd #elena gilbert #delena #stelena #damon salvatore x reader #damon x reader #elena x damon #damon salvatore x y/n #damon x y/n

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deadlyglacier · 3 years ago

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20 Questions tag~

I was tagged by @mythicamagic thank you senpai~<3

How many works do you have on AO3?

40 right now, plus 1 that is still hidden because of the SOFA Exchange event. (I’m still a lil fish.)

What’s your total AO3 word count?

486,920! That’s so amazing to me!

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

InuYasha - A Feudal Fairytale (18)

FullMetal Alchemist (18)

Mass Effect Trilogy (3)

Let’s Play (Webtoon) (1)

Kingdom Hearts (1) But I hope to write for many more fandoms in the future! I have ideas for fics for Castlevania, Skyrim, Fallout 4, Last of Us Part II, and more!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

#1. Stardust FemShep/Garrus, Mass Effect Trilogy, Rated Explicit. A retelling of the Shepard/Vakarian love story, with lots (and LOTS) of sexiness, from Garrus' point of view. Starts from before the Omega-4 and will end sometime after the end of ME3. Trying to stay as true to the game as possible, while adding some things happening off camera and a new ending.

#2. Flamingo Sess/Kag, Inuyasha, Rated Explicit Kagome's method of beating the summer heat attracts a certain demon lord...

#3. Hawk Sess/Kag, Inuyasha, Rated Explicit Kagome and Sesshomaru discover they have a mutual attraction for each other after a battle and a slight comedic incident brings them together. At first their relationship seems entirely sexual, but eventually evolves into something real. What will this romance mean for Naraku? Or even the future? *TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 6! MAJOR VIOLENCE AND TRAGEDY* Very, very loosely based on "A Mere Digression" by elle6778

#4. Daisy Sam/Charles, Let’s Play, Rated Mature Sam wakes up somewhere unfamiliar with a splitting headache with no memory of the night before. Takes place right after the S2 finale. First chapter was my prediction for what would happen next, and then three other “wishful thinking” chapters happened, lol.

#5. Chemistry Ed/Winry, FullMetal Alchemist, Rated Mature A look at how the relationship between Ed and Winry developed after Brotherhood ended. Cute, sweet, funny, and hot (eventually—y'all that know me know I gotta have some NSFW in there).

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to respond to everyone, especially when a fic of mine has just been posted, but sometimes I just forget. If I haven’t responded to your comment, please know it’s just because I’m a big dumb and forgot! I love getting comments, and I reread them all the time! I just feel like there’s a time limit to when I can respond to them--if I let too much go by, it’s awkward if I reply. Gah, but that’s just me getting in my own head, I guess. I’ll do better!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oof, definitely Psychology, a fic I wrote for RoyEdOTPoly this year. The prompt I got was dark, and I didn’t see any way around an angsty ending. Read at your own risk!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Well, aside from the last fic, I try to write happy endings for all my fics! But, if I have to name names, I’m torn between Zoology (another FullMetal Alchemist fic, RoyEd, for RoyEdOTPoly this year) and Stardust (my Mass Effect fic, which is long, but so worth it, in my opinion). Both are very fluffy in the end!

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Argh... I don’t really like crossovers, to be honest. I actively avoid them when looking for fics to read. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of writing them myself. (I’m a total hypocrite, I know.) I had an idea for an Inuyasha x The Sims fic, years ago, that I never did anything with. The premise was basically Inuyasha and Kagome would get trapped in the game somehow (via the jewel or magic or something), and they’d be controlled by Souta, Kagome’s friends, Hojo--all sorts of different people who think the fact that Kagome and Inuyasha are in the game is just some kind of silly mod. I probably won’t write it, so if anyone is interested in that crazy idea, have at it! You have my blessing. <3 I also have a crazy crossover idea for what I call an “Ultimate OT3″ of mine that I’ve mentioned to my friends, but I haven’t actually written down yet: Sesshomaru/Alucard/Sebastian Michaelis. So be on the lookout for that!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I wouldn’t call it “hate” so much as “mansplaining,” but I have gotten a couple of comments that made my eyebrow twitch on Stardust--both on AO3 and FFN. Just dudes (and I’m fairly certain they were dudes, just from their tone) trying to explain why a certain plot twist wouldn’t work, or tell me how to save Sidonis in the actual game (which I already knew, that person just didn’t read what I wrote). I’ve also gotten a comment on one of my more controversial fics, Hippology, on FFN, where the person asked me if I thought my summary was K-Rated (which, admittedly, it does need to be for the site, and mine wasn’t--because of a single word). I changed it and messaged them saying it was fixed. Going to that commenter’s profile, however, proved to be fairly enlightening... They’re nuts. They have another profile, too. Read at your own risk. Yikes. There’s also a team of people on FFN who make it their life’s mission to report stories with rule violations. I’ve gotten a comment from one of them as well. These people are not mods, they just like to pretend they are--one of them even made their name look official! “CU Administration,” gtfo dude. I also recently got one of my fics removed from FFN. It wasn’t even one of my sexiest ones! They put me in timeout for 48 hours, and when I was finally able to publish something new on the site again, I posted Hippology (my centaur smut), and it’s still up as I type this. (Wonder how long it’ll take them to notice?) And since the fic that got taken down was a SessKag fic, I’m thinking it might have been a petty SessRinner who reported it to the “authorities” of FFN, because another friend of mine got hers taken down not long after mine, and it was also SessKag. Just my tinfoil theory, anyway!

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes, yes, yes. It’s practically all I write. I do all sorts of smut, from romantic, sensual stuff, to specific kinks, to monsterfucking--all that good stuff. Can’t change me~<3

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

God, I hope not!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t think so. No one has asked me if they can translate one, anyway.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet! I’m open to the idea, and I’ve had little discussions with my fic-writing buddies about it, but nothing’s come out of it just yet. Keep your eyes peeled!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh, now come on! I can’t pick just one! But I’ll give you a top 3 (in no particular order, because they change places a lot, depending on how obsessed I am with them at the moment). Inuyasha: Sess/Kag FullMetal Alchemist: Roy/Ed Mass Effect: Garrus/FemShep

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a couple of stories that I deleted from my original FFN account that I’d like to re-write and re-post on AO3, but I don’t think I’ll ever get around to it. There were a couple of Inu/Kag fics I had in-progress, and then a Koug/Kag fic. I recently rewrote and reposted my SessKag fic from years ago, Hawk, on FFN, AO3, and Dokuga! So maybe all hope isn’t lost. I’m even writing a sequel for Hawk! All the stories I have in-progress right now I plan on finishing. At some point, lol.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, without a doubt. It’s my favorite thing to write, aside from smut, of course--which is another strength of mine.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions, ugh. I try to do them well, but I always feel like they get stale. So I keep them somewhat vague, because in my mind, I think readers will fill in the gaps themselves whether you describe something immaculately or not--they’ll see what they want to see, and that is totally fine in my book! Or maybe I’m just making excuses, lol. I’ll only describe something in a lot of detail if I want the reader to focus on that--usually an outfit, accessory, or weapon--otherwise, I leave it up to their imagination (I don’t want manipulate it too much, I suppose).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Wildly unnecessary unless that author speaks the language as well, or if certain words already exist in the fandom’s translations (ex. “youkai,” “alkahestry,” etc).

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Inuyasha, and the fic(s) I wrote in the beginning were terrible. I want to burn all traces of them off the face of the earth. I was in middle school. I was young and stupid.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I gotta go with Stardust. It’s the longest fic I’ve ever completed at more than 160k words. I was so immensely proud when I typed “The End,” and I was able to say to myself “I did it.”

I tag: @glassesmcfancyhair @willowsrain

#SessKag #RoyEd #SamCharles #Shakarian #Inuyasha #FullMetal Alchemist #Let's Play #Mass Effect #fanfiction #writers supporting writers #q and a #I don't know what else to put so here

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