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dreamkidddream · 3 years

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hey congratulations!!🎉

if possible, can you write quote #19 w/ atsushi?

Whew so this was a popular request and I’m honestly excited for it! This was so fun to write too. Atsushi ain’t slick either 👀 Atsushi when he’s doubting himself 📉📉 Atsushi when he’s confident, believes in himself AND goes feral📈📈 📈 also sorry for the wait, school has me 1000000x stressed, but my birthday is coming up so expect me to post more as a birthday gift to myself 🥰 reader is gender neutral!

TW: a little spicy but nothing extremely graphic is mentioned, minor language

Prompt: “I saw that. You just checked me out.” with Atsushi!

Atsushi couldn’t help it. No matter what, his eyes were always drawn to you. You’re just...really pretty! Beyond pretty! You’re just so alluring, that no matter how much he tried to snap out of the daze that you unknowingly put him in, he would just be focused on you all over again. Didn’t matter where either: in the office filling out reports, hanging out in the cafe, on missions (Akutagawa would be fuming and a little confused, but Atsushi didn’t care).

While he is naive at times, that didn’t mean that he’s stupid. He knows that he’s in too deep and it’s too late to try and deny what he’s feeling for you, but he’s scared. He fears that he isn’t good enough for you, that he never will be good enough for you. You deserve more than what he can ever give you, so why waste your time on someone like him? You deserve better than that, better than him...

But those thoughts were pushed away whenever you’re around him. Everytime you flashed him that sweet smile of yours, his heart would beat even faster than before (and you made his heart pretty fast already), and he couldn’t bare the notion of you not being in his life. He couldn’t imagine it, and he didn’t even try to.

Which lead to now: you both walking on the Yokohama boardwalk, him holding onto your prized tiger plushie (that took so long for him to win and SO MUCH MONEY) and varying treats from different street vendors, and you chattering excited about...something. What was it that you were talking about again? Damn it, it happened again!

It was so easy for Atsushi to get lost when it came to you. Just seeing the ways your eyes sparkled underneath the lights and the night sky was enough for him to lose his breath, not to mention how stunning you’re already are. He was more than flabbergasted when you accepted his invite to the boardwalk, stumbling out a thank you with a heavy blush across as you rambled on about how you can’t wait until then.

And you look so good. Not that you already didn’t! You actually got a little dressed up tonight, nothing too over the top but nothing like a regular hangout either. The outfit that you chose really displayed your figure, and he couldn’t help but let his gaze fall to-

“Hey! Are you listening?”

SHIT.

“HUH?! Oh! Of-of course!”, he stuttered out, nodding his head. Please believe me, please believe me, please-

“So you agree that I should go on a date with Dazai or Ranpo? Or even Akutagawa?”

“Ye-WAIT NO!”

“I’m just kidding, Sushi,” you playfully bumped his shoulder. “You zoned out on me. If I’m boring you-”

“No! It’s not that!”, he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, shameful. “It’s just...I’m really having a lot of fun with you tonight. I’m still a little shocked that you actually agreed to come out with me.”

“Why would I tell you no? I love spending time with you! Plus, this gives us a chance to hang out without any interference. Just us two.”

“Y-yeah! Just us! I’m really happy that you’re having fun.”

“Just make sure I’m not boring you to death okay? Plus, I have to tell you something important...”

His ears perked up and his heart started to race. Was this the moment? Could it be? He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. You looked so bashful, twiddling your fingers together nervously.

Were you about to confess to him?

A smile broke out on your face as you gazed at him.

“You’ve been checking me out this whole time, haven’t you?”

He choked.

Atsushi could faint right now. Not out of pure bliss, but of embarrassment. You knew what he was doing?! He wishes that the ground would open up and swallow him while, he even wishes that Akutagawa just comes out of nowhere to fight just so he wouldn’t have to face you.

“W-wait?”, and his voice cracked. Even more embarrassment.

“You’ve been checking me out, tiger boy! My my Atsushi, who knew that you could be so devious?”

He almost dropped your plush tiger trying to wave his arms to defend himself. He wasn’t checking you out! He was admiring you! Very big difference in his opinion.

Oh who was he kidding? Either way, you didn’t need to know that!

“No I wasn’t! It’s- you see- I wasn’t checking you out! You h-had something on your face! Yeah!”

“Oh please Atsushi. I saw that. You just checked me out. As a matter of fact, I know you’ve been checking me out for quite some time.”

Oh he could just shrivel up and disappear into nothing at this point. He felt so ashamed, disgusting. Oh God, what if you thought that he’s a pervert now? He began to open his mouth, the start of a first apology of many to follow on the tip of his tongue, when you cut him off.

“Honestly, I was wondering when you were gonna make a move. Thought I was gonna have to, but I wanted to give you enough time and maybe see you sweat a little.”

“...huh?”

You broke poor Atsushi.

So you didn’t think that he’s a disgusting pervert? You didn’t hate him? And you knew that he’s been doing this? And you knew of his feelings for you? And you reciprocated said feelings?!

Atsushi was overjoyed at this revelation. Then, he came to the realization that you knew this whole time of his feelings for you, didn’t say anything because you were amused with how stressed he got, and then proceeded to still mess with him after.

He’s irritated to say the least.

You let out a string of laughter, “Atsushi, you should see your face right now!” You started to clutch your stomach, tears pricking at your eyes with how hard you’re laughing. “Seriously! You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice you always staring at me? I’m not that oblivious you know.”

As much as you loved teasing him, you really did mean what you said. He’s been gazing at you with his longing look in his eyes for so long, that you believed it was only a matter of time before he approached you. However, you were starting to get just a tad bit impatient. You knew how much of a crush he has on you just as you have a crush on him, and you were trying to have him make the first move, but if he continued to just give you puppy eyes when he thought you wouldn’t notice, you were going to drag him by his tie and force him to confess.

“But don’t feel too bad. If I was super nervous to confess to my crush, I’ll probably just stare and hope they understand my feelings that way. So, now that that’s out of the way, do you want to confess first or should I-”

“You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

Atsushi’s had his head lowered, and when he snapped his head up, he was glaring at you.

Oh no, he’s mad at you. You didn’t mean to make upset! It was- wait a second. What you do to him? He continued on, gripping your shoulders so that you couldn’t look away, your focus would be on him and only him, just like his is always on you and only you.

“It’s not my fault what you do to me! It’s yours!”

“Wait, AtsuSHI-”

“It’s not my fault that you’re really pretty and nice and-”

Now he was shaking you while he rants and whines about all the things that “weren’t his fault”. You began to giggle again, “Okay okay Atsushi! I get it.” Clasping his hands, you slowly ceased his shaking, with him giving you that same puppy eyed look that you’re used to.

Damn it, he didn’t understand what he does to you.

“I’m sorry, Atsushi. It’s just so fun to see you get riled up sometimes”, you already moved his hands to in front of you, gently rubbing circles on them. “I...I really do like you, Atsushi. More than like, really. This wasn’t how I was planning this to go, but whatever. And you don’t have to worry about me not returning your feelings dummy! It’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you say?”

You could see his expression soften the more you spoke, processing your words and letting them sink in. He saw no playful glints in your eyes this time. You genuinely meant what you said, you like him, more than a friend.

He felt tears gathering in his eyes, but you wiped at them before they could fall. Caressing his face, prizes and treats long forgotten, you leaned in to kiss him softly. He went still, then melted into it, bringing you close to him as much as he can by your waist. When you pulled back, he had such a dopey grin on his face, eyes full of warmth.

Nothing could compare to this feeling, the feeling of being loved, being truly cared for.

He truly did feel blessed.

“The night’s still young, Atsushi,” you leaned in to give him another peck, which he happily accepted. “And I don’t want to waste anymore time than we already have.”

“Y-y-yeah, me either”, he touched your forehead against yours. You look so angelic underneath the stars, he couldn’t look away if he tried. “Let’s make up for lost time.”

“Of course. And I know the perfect way to start.”

Bonus:

“Good morning, Atsushi!”

Dazai rolled his chair to his desk, already putting off his work for the day. “So tell me: how was your date last night?”

“Oh-it was great! We just went to the boardwalk. (Y/N) was happy, and we both confessed, so everything went okay.”

“That’s it?”, he sighed. “How boring. You guys didn’t do anything else?”

“Hm? No? Was I suppose to do something else?”, he blinked at Dazai. Did you miss a step or something? Everything went better than expected last night, so he did everything right...right?

“Tell me, Atsushi. Did you two run into any trouble last night?”

“No. Why?”

“Well how did you get that bruise on your neck?”

Bruise? What was he-

Oh no.

Dazai leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “And judging by the way (Y/N) is being way more cheerful than they usually are, something tells me that that isn’t a bruise-”

“DAZAI! Get back to work!”

Kunikida couldn’t have come at a perfect time. Dazai groaned out a “fine” and rolled back to his desk, letting Atsushi breath out a sigh of relief. You guys had a lot more fun than he let on, and he would be beyond mortified if the whole office found out-

“Goodness Kunikida, I was just letting Atsushi know that his hickey was showing! (Y/N) really knows how to leave a mark, don’t they Atsushi?”

Please someone, end him now-

“And the way that (Y/N) is covering their neck tells me that you do too. My mentee is growing up so fast, I’m so proud!”

“DAZAI!”

“ATSUSHI!”

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs reader insert #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd atsushi x reader #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima x reader #atsushi x reader #dream’s 100 + 200 followers prompt special 💙

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milks-writings · 3 years

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✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ PAIRING: Atsumu Miya x Male!Reader

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ WARNINGS: mention of stabbing, Hurt buT LOTS OF CUDDLES AND COMFORT AFTERWARD, mention of death (meaning of the red anemone)

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ REQUEST: all right so.. atsumu ⭐️ can you please write m!reader and him being teammates and reader being a big friend of osamu. he knows that reader is gay and in love with his brother, so he always like.. quietly supports him and takes care of him, helping with reader’s crush on his chaotic brother :D so imagine a training camp mhm, the team spends all the time together and reader has all this *gay panic* since atsumu is always there, near him (i also just can tell atsumu is damn handsy person) atsumu is mocking reader (in a loving way of course, cuz he crushes over a sweet boy himself) since reader is that shy and cute, but he doesn’t understand his words hurt him because reader is too sensitive to his words and actually thinks that atsumu is making fun of him. so just one day without any intense atsumu makes reader cry with his mocking and like.. he has no idea what to do and he’s like “eey.. wait.. wait! samu! he’s crying! what should i do?!” :0 please gimme some hurt/comfort 🤍

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ A/N: OMG YES ATSUMU REQUEST HASHDFHIXOANSDF THANKS SO MUCH I LOVE THIS MAN--

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Masterlist

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Scenario: After one loss would always follow one win

Shuffling over the court and leaving some squeaking noises behind was almost a calming sound that came to your ears, echoing through the big volleyball court. Between the two sides, of your teams side and the other teams side was only a net that divided the thick air. There would be always one team at least one point ahead, and depending on who it was, the air seemed to be bearable or rather toxic and suffocating.

It was only a training camp, yet the feelings were fatal. Each point would cause the opposite team to get panic, to fill up with the anxious feeling that screams ‘Just one point’

No one would give up so easily. No one wanted to give up so easily. It was just a training camp, yet it felt like their life depended on this whole game. Each point felt like the string was about to just cut into a half, but no one knew who would get the longer string since the scissors were wandering on the string, waiting for some random moment to finally break the nervous atmosphere and end this whole game that drove everyone insane. The heavy breaths filled the court with some kind of beat, since at this point everyone just wanted to rest, yet no one was ready to give up already. Until the last bit of power would they fight.

For a brief moment, you thought, only a brief second, Atsumu would look back at you. The tiring game must’ve made you delusional. It was quite some while since you guys played against such a great team, also known as Itachiyama. Osamu had told you quite often that Atsumu never really labelled himself with a sexuality, giving you at least some rising hope. Honestly, your crush towards him felt like trying to take care of an almost dead flower. And not just one flower, it was the well known red anemone that symbolizes death or the act of forsaken love. For some reason, it never wanted to open up. The petals stayed up, risen to the sky and not showing the truth behind the facade of the red petals. The secret was just laying on the stigma of the flower, waiting to get opened like a present and to outshine everyone's appearances. But as long as the flower wouldn’t open, the love felt one sided.

The last point felt like a long moment of silence. It wasn’t a real game, yet it was laying heavily on your shoulders. Your team lost. Kita would be disappointed, but you just knew that he wouldn’t scold you. As a Libero it was literally your duty to keep the ball over the floor. Even if it was one centimetre, one finger between the ball and the floor, anything could be done to win this god damn game. For a moment, your mind tricked you into thinking that this was an actual game, but seeing the others just walking off with the words “thanks for the training game.”

Osamu already had taken place beside you with two bottles of water, passing you one of the ones he held while just letting out a small sigh. “That was intense” He admitted, and if he said such a thing he really meant it. He was fucking right. This game was intense.

The water slowly went down your throat, giving you a cool down and filling your senses with some refreshing thoughts, among with the thought of Atsumu.

That’s right, the boy you have a crush on, the boy who is the twin of one of your closest friends, Osamu Miya. It was like your thoughts had to manifest the boy that filled your mind with worries but also with dreams you never thought would come true. “Hey!” The setters hand landed on your shoulder, making your cheeks heat up and leaving a pinkish blush on them, almost like it was naturally after a hard game. But sadly the blush didn’t blend in, it rather made your red exhausted face ever worse. You could swear, for a moment the wind hit the anemone, almost opening the flowers with the sweet sound of the wind blowing but somehow the windflower stayed closed, not letting you enter yet.

“Ya wanna grab some food with me and ‘Samu?” Atsumu asked you, making you slowly nod in agreement.

It has been a curse or a blessing that Atsumu always suggested you three to hang out. Being around those Twins was like walking on a thin rope, over the water with shaky feet. You could never know what would happen, if the rope would just tear apart or if you would fall into the water out of balance and if anyone would safe you. “I didn’t even agree, jerk!” Osamu huffed out at Atsumu’s statement. And there they went again. Barking at each other like two mad dogs, yet they didn’t rip their heads off since they still loved each other as siblings. Osamu soon snapped out of it though, and gave you all his attention again. “Ya want onigiri?” His eyebrow raised in sync with his words, like the words were pulling it slowly up and the question mark set an end to the pulling, but instead tilted his head to the side. With slowly moving your head up and down as a nod, you answered his question. It was the first day of the training camp so the left overs from the drive to the training camp were still good and it would’ve been a pity to let them get bad. “Yer just tryna to get him fat!” Atsumu snapped at Osamu, somewhat sounding mad for something. You weren’t sure if Atsumu preferred skinny people -- or if he was trying to make sure that Osamu wouldn’t feed you too much so you could still eat together. Nevertheless, you didn’t take it personally, yet. Just brushed it off and moved on, thinking that nothing too bad could happen with ignoring that. “No I am not! Back off pisshair!” Osamu complained with a hiss. Sometimes he could only wonder how you could fall in love with such an idiot like him. “Let’s grab some food” You finally broke the heavy and almost hatred atmosphere that was among you three thanks to the twins. No one could blame them though. It was just a typical conversation between two siblings.

A small wind seemed to have blown over the flower when you three were sitting in the small cafeteria and chatted. The anemone was about to open, to show it’s real colour, but you got hit with the train of disappointment as soon as Atsumu let his guards down again and begun to mock you. “Yer aren’t in yer top form today huh?” Atsumu smirk only grew with the last words, beginning to push you into the corner of just a breakdown. “Not really” You honestly admitted. It always had been him mocking you, him pushing you off your edge emotionally. With pressing your lips together you hoped to swallow the slightly painful comment down your throat, but nothing seemed to help. “Yer gotta be more self confident!” Atsumu implied, almost complained about you. He wanted to help you. For the three people on the table, Osamu, Atsumu and you it was very clear that Atsumu cared about you, but the way he would say things would be sometimes sharp, like a stab in your heart. But in reality he would be patting your head and stabbing your negative feelings instead of you. “Listen, it’s not easy you know” Your voice laid hoarse in the room, creating a short yet uncomfortable silence. Just when Osamu was about to butt in, Atsumu had taken advantage of the situation. “What if yer-” Just as Atsumu was about to continue his sentence, the tears that you had swallowed down along with the rice balls had just came up, running down your cheeks. The mocking sometimes got overwhelming to you. All you wanted were sweet words, but all you got was sweet mocks. Of course, it was probably his way to tell you that he liked you… or not. “No no pretty boy don’t ya cry!” Atsumu’s voice was filled with worries and confusion, immediately jumping up and sitting besides you. Osamu, who sat on the other side of you, just let Atsumu be. He should take care of you. He was the one who thought that mocking was a way for flirting and a way of showing someone his love. “Osamu what should I do?” he asked confused, but his twin just carelessly kept eating the Onigiri, like you two had been ghosts.

The tears that had been just streaming down your cheeks were like a soft, yet meaningful wind that had blown over the red windflower. With the soft wind blow, the dead petals fell down onto the ground, and the flower opened like a present, showing of its beautiful colourful petals. They were glowing under the rain, almost like the sun kept on shining behind the clouds. If a human eye would get to see the bright presence of the flower, they could forget for a second about the rain that was pouring down. And if someone, who saw the flower opening up and showing their beauty, would see that it was actually a white anemone, just waiting to show their sincerity.

“Hey hey hey- I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Atsumu said while getting a hold of your hands, “I really like you, you know and I tried to flirt with you” It was like he begun to rant his heart out, not trying to find an excuse to hurt you, but to explain the situation to you. To make you understand better, to cheer you a little up. “Let’s uh… Let’s get some food, huh? Or a warm tea?” Atsumu offered, not letting you talk until now. The tears that had been streaming down your face became less and less after seeing the not red, but actually white anemone in his eyes. The rain stopped.

“You… you do like me?” Your voice was dipped in some spark of hope, and also sealed with some confusion.

“Do ya want tea?” “Atsumu do you really like me or did you use it to cheer me up?” “I am not sure,” “You have to give me an honest answer. Yes or no.” With a sigh the boy finally gave in. It was useless to fight with you now. “Yeah kinda like ya” a small pout formed on his lips, seeming to be rather a little embarrassed than pleased by saying that.

“I like you too” There was nothing to save or to destroy now. You had been at your end, emotionally, and Atsumu also just opened up like a book, letting you read whatever had been written deep down in his feelings and mind. “Yer want cuddles?”

That question took you off guard.

Cuddles was the last thing you would expect him to ask you, but could you say no?

With a small sob that had been still saved from the crying just a few minutes ago your head slowly motioned to a yes, making his goofy smile grow. “Good thing we share a room!” He cheered, ruffling your hair.

After that sentence you can guess what happened.

Lots of loving cuddles and hugs were exchanged this night.

After one loss would always follow one win.

«𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞»

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lgcxmax · 2 years

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FUTURE DREAMS S5 • Scenario Solo

Ranking System.

“Where do you see yourself?”

Max freezes.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when they were called in one by one once more and while he’d somewhat dreaded this moment to come, the mental preparation for it would have never been enough. He exhales a deep sigh, his brows furrowed in self-reflection as his eyes scan across the names of individuals who impressed him, friends he’s trained with for aeons and people he had yet to get to know better to have an actual opinion about them.

He’s not a judgmental nor a competitive person. He’d always believed as long as he was good enough, he didn’t have to think far enough that he was better or worse than someone. Max was fine with being just enough to make the cut, no matter what rank he was on.

Even now- was he on this show to win? Or was he here to go beyond a solo single and actually get into one of the groups whose song he’d been performing for the trainee eval?

His lips purse before he parts them to reply. “First.” His response is certain, quick and secure but the wobble in his smile as it widens across his lips is present. “Not because I actually think I am but because I want to be. I was average for so long in my life... I finally want to be the best at something,” he admits honestly before lowering his eyes with a bashful smile.

Thinking he had the worst behind him, his heartbeat slows, only to skip when he’s told to pick someone he’d go up against in all three categories. God, how he hated pitching himself against people. Max could make this easily for himself, name Cameron for all three since they’d been pitched up against each other since the trainee eval started and Max had slowly gotten used to the thought it’d be either him or Max.

But that would be untrue. So he decides to be honest, perhaps painfully so.

“For singing I have to name Teddy ( @lgcteddy ). He’s a great vocalist, his performance had character and soul but I think I can match him in performance. I want to have the same intensity in my performance and I think I could potentially actually keep up with him- even if I’m better at guitar then piano,” he admits with a laugh his hand reaching up to rub nervously at the back of his neck. He could have named Parker ( @lgcparker ). There is no doubt he’s one of the best vocals though and Max is too chicken to name him only to end up losing embarrassingly to his blood’s brother.

“As for rapping... Hyoseop ( @lgchyoseop ) probably? He’s a strong rapper despite being a trainee for such a short time compared to me. I think it’s because I never really focused on a skill but now that I settled for rapping, I want to beat him. I want to learn to be good enough to surpass him.” Somehow it’s easy for him to admit his own short comings and boost those he names instead. Max wonders if it makes him look humble or just like a loser and a fool.

The last one, he knows for certain, will make him look like an utter fool.

“For dance.... Wookjin ( @lgcwookjin ) . He may have had a blackout but he’s still one of the best dancers I know. We’ve been training together since we got into Legacy, always motivating each other to get better, to work harder, to push further- I wouldn’t be where I am today without him. I’m the better rapper but he’s the better dancer and while I’m not blessed with a beautiful singing voice like his, I have my own vocal tone that I can work with. We compliment each other and can push each other to work on our weaknesses at the same time. He’s one of my best friends and definitely someone I consider a person that helped me grow the most in the company.” His exhale is shaky as he concludes. Too emotional- he’s too emotional again. Max really should learn how to control himself better and not be so unapologetically raw.

He can already tell he’s going to regret it. He just hopes they won’t use his words to patch together some dramatic story line of pitching him against a person he’d love to debut side by side with.

#solo: reise muss weitergehen;#lgc:fdscenarios #(chosen ppl are mentioned with one honorary mention uwu)

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killian-whump · 3 years

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Game Night! [Liveblog #4]

I’m gonna try to finish up the last game and the end of the video in this post, so we better get right to it!

The last game they’re going to play is called Quiplash. Okay, they’re going to be given a prompt... and whoever finishes the quip in the funniest way wins. Kat warns that she’s a master at this and that everybody’s going down. Colin seems impressed by her bravado, but incensed to win nonetheless. “Here we go,” says Sam unenthusiastically 😂

AND THE GAME IS ON!!!

...or it’s meant to be on. Sam’s not joined the game yet. Seems to be having some sort of technical difficulty. “You scared of losing, Sam?” Colin asks helpfully. “All the rest of us got in pretty easy...”

Sam has joined. His name is now Colonislosin 😂 It’s hard to see exactly how it’s spelled. I don’t think any of them can see it that clearly, either. Sam has to tell them what it says.

“We’ll see,” Colin says. “We’ll see.”

The game begins. “It’s more like Col-on is losin,” Sam says. “Col-on.”

The audio is breaking all up in this segment, and Josh even comments on “Low internet signal. We’re doing great.” Hmm. I paid $10 for this, you damn well better find a stronger internet signal.

ROUND 1! The first quip is: We can all agree that... The two answers are: “Covid sucks” and “Josh... is... hairy” “Covid sucks” wins ~ and Colin gets all the points.

The second quip is: A terrible name for a funeral parlor. The two answers are: “Happy Times Palace” and “We put the Fun in Funeral” “We put the Fun in Funeral” wins ~ and Kat gets all the points.

The third quip is: “Knock Knock” “Who’s There?” The two answers are: “Me DUH” and “Get the fuck away from my door” “Get the fuck away” wins and Josh gets most of the points. Colin gets some too, I think, for his answer, because Sam voted for it.

The fourth quip is: “Something that would make a creepy replacement for the horses on a merry-go-round.” The two answers are: “Mini Josh’s” and “Creepy Princes” AREN’T THOSE THE SAME THING?! 😂 “One and the same,” says Sammy. “You don’t want to sit on a mini Josh, do you?” Sam ponders. Josh forgets to even vote, and Sam gets points for “Mini Josh’s”

At the end of Round 1, Sam is in the lead, with Kat and Colin tied for second.

I wanna take this moment to apologize for how BORING this post is so far. During the games, all five people (the three stars, Josh, and Sammy the producer) are in these miniscule windows on the far right of the screen. You can barely even see them. And during this game, there’s little to no conversation going on between/during the quips. As much fun as this game might be to play, it’s not a lot of fun to watch. The last one was better, but even that tended to DRAG for the audience at home. Josh really needs to work on the games he’s having stars play if he plans to keep charging $10 a month to watch this stuff. Also, the audio keeps breaking up in this segment, so even when they talk, some of it’s hard to decipher.

“I respect that Colin is doing this instead of reading bedtime stories to his children tonight,” Josh says as everyone’s entering in their answers for Round 2. “[That’s] how committed I am,” Colin replies. Kat says something that is so broken up, I can’t even begin to figure out what it is. Something about bedtime stories and Colin’s kids. It’s probably funny. 🤷‍♀️ I’m getting mad about my $10 gift card being gone again.

Alright. Round 2.

Quip #1: It never ends well when you mix ___ and ___. Answers: “poo and oatmeal” and “Sam and Josh” Okay, that second one is gold. Who did that? Apparently Colin did “poo and oatmeal” and Kat did “Sam and Josh”. Bless her. Colin gets the points with more votes, though.

Quip #2: The worst car feature that ends with “holder” Answers: “penis” and “diaper” Sam is just blinking rapidly. Now he’s laughing. “How does that work?” he asks. No one answers. “But I wanna know,” he says. “How does it work?” Josh wins the points with his “penis” answer - which Colin voted for, by the way - but no one cares now. “Does it move?” Kat asks. “Or does it just-” “Don’t ask too many questions,” Josh says. “What kind of size is it?” Sam asks. “Is it stationary or is there a motor feature?” Kat asks. “Maybe it’s a good idea...” Sam concludes, as Josh laments the kind of dreams he’s going to have now.

The third quip is literally happening in the background now, as everyone talks about the penis holder. Colin is noticeably silent on the topic XD

Quip #3: Something upsetting you could say to the cable guy as he installs your television service. Answers: “you smell like fart” and “want to see my murder room?” I’m sitting here going, “don’t be Colin, don’t be Colin” while simultaneously knowing 100% that Colin absolutely typed “you smell like fart” into his phone and... Yeah. Yeah, I’m right. That was him 😂 And he got 0 points. “Oh, boooo,” says Colin. Honey... Honey, I’m sorry, but that was bad.

Quip #4: The name of the reindeer Santa did not pick to pull his sleigh. Answers: “ohdeer” and “tipsy” Neither of these are very good. I hate this game. Kat gets the points with “tipsy”.

OH WOW, YOU GUYS. The final points are tallied and...

WHAT IS THIS TOMFOOLERY?! Colin is LOSING?!?! I mean, I know “you smell like fart” was bad, but this is unbelievable! I call shenanigans!!!

Colin is literally sitting forward in his chair now, lmao. The determination is intense, you guys. I once again cannot handle him right now. I wish he wasn’t in the teeny tiny window so I could show you guys better, but look at him getting his fucking game face on:

This man is a peanut and I love him with every fiber of my being. Look at him being a competitive little somesuch in last place. I can’t, you guys. Bury me here, etc, etc, I’m just a goner for this ridiculous man.

O’DONOINTENSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last Round: Quip: Strange side effect to hear during a drug commercial. Answers: “cream cheese will come out of your butt” “seeing double horowitz” and “the screams of baboons” - there’s only three because Kat didn’t get her answer in before the time was up. Aaaaaaand the sound’s breaking all up again 😣 Josh is wondering what the point is of voting, if all you’re doing is giving points to your competitors. “Do you have to give all three votes?” Colin asks. “See,” Josh says. “Colin is thinking strategically, like me.” “Well, I’m not entirely sure the other two, I think, deserve any more than one point.” But it’s... it’s the WAY he says it, OH MY GOD, lol. Lemme... I gotta... Okay, I screen recorded it for you guys.

That O’Donosass is actually almost worth $10, you guys.

Which is good, because the audio is getting worse and worse on this and it’s starting to piss me off. Anyway! Everybody’s got a lot of points, because those were ALL good answers (Colin’s was “the screams of baboons” which I quite like). Let’s see the final tally...

Josh is the winner! But Colin managed a come-from-behind close second, so I’m really proud of him :D Sam mentions how Josh invited them all there to play games and then BEAT them. Josh is closing out the show, saying he hopes everyone enjoyed it... “I enjoyed it,” Josh says "But maybe that’s just 'cause I won at the very last second.” “No, well, you won ONE,” Colin cuts in. “You won ONE game.”

SERIOUSLY. BURY ME RIGHT THERE 😂😂😂

“Colin won the first round,” Josh says.

“...and then we have these two other people.”

Incidentally, I wish everyone’s webcams were as clear as Kat’s.

Anyway, now there’s some sweet summing up... and Josh hawking everyone’s current projects... (gee, it’s like this is promotional content or something) and the show closing down and-

“Can I win next time?” asks Sam Heughan.

~ The End ~

I hope you guys had fun reading this. I gotta say... this one video isn’t worth $10. I can see if you’re a huge fan of Josh’s or really into celebrity culture, $10 a month might be a fine price to pay for a bunch of this kind of content... but for a one-time video when your fave happens to show up on his channel? Nah. He really should have a “one time access” fee available for individual videos that’s a LOT less. Like, I’m talking, like... $1 or 2. This is literally a zoom call... and as such, the quality’s only as good as his guests’ webcams and audio and everyone’s internet connections. Also, I found the game format enticing... but ultimately boring due to the games chosen. The Would You Rather was the most fun of the three, because we actually got to hear from the stars and get some banter going. The games relied too much on the stars interacting with their devices instead of each other or anyone really engaging the audience. Honestly, if it was any of my faves other than Colin in this video, I might not have even watched the whole thing. Colin’s adorable competitive streak and eagerness to win play games is what kept me watching. The idea is cute, but it needs some work. And the price is too high - especially with the audio issues in the last ten minutes or so. That’s my final verdict.

#colin o'donoghue #game night #liveblog

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hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Hjarta | Chapter 18

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE NEXT MORNING

SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Eivor pried his eyes open to a slit, immediately squinting in the sunlight that hit his face.

His fingers twitched with movement as his body returned to a state of consciousness, and his dreams vacated the stage that once sat in his mind. A subtle itch tickled the surface of his skin due to the strands of hair that dangled in front of his nose, and out of the corner of his eye, Eivor could see lingering smoke trailing from the dead embers of a torch once set aflame.

It was a calm morning, despite the mournful nature of the clan. A light breeze traveled swiftly throughout the empty halls of the longhouse, and distant chatter could be heard from the villagers who had already risen. It was the start of an ordinary day, and yet, Eivor had no motivation to see it through.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about Thora and Ulfar.

Even though he managed to distract himself for a while with Sigurd’s company, the pain was inevitably sinking back in, and it felt as if a boulder had planted itself on top of his chest.

There was no way to fill the new absence stalking his every move; no way he could ever see Thora or Ulfar again. Both of them were gone, and he had been left behind. He was stuck in this realm with nothing but the memories of those he had lost, and the only thing that could help him was the hope of putting Kjotve down for good.

Thankfully, Eivor wasn’t completely alone just yet.

Resting gently over his hip, the young man felt the weight of Sigurd’s arm pressing down on him like a protective shield, holding him close in a world that was constantly trying to separate them. His breath kissed the back of Eivor’s neck at a steady pace, and a soothing warmth surrounded their bodies due to the blankets barricading them from the cold.

It was surprising to see that Sigurd hadn’t taken his leave, Eivor thought. Part of him had been expecting the prince to vanish like he did on the day of the wedding, and yet, he was here, keeping him company without any worry of judgement. His mind remained buried under dreams of war and mayhem, and his eyelids fluttered with the vivid images that flashed in his head.

He looked to be at peace, despite the turmoil brewing inside him. His expression was devoid of any usual disturbances, and Eivor’s comforting presence only helped to bring him more solace.

In addition to the relief Eivor felt upon seeing Sigurd however, the young man also couldn’t ignore the guilt he carried for taking the prince away from Randvi.

Gods only knew what that woman was going through right now. In a single day, she had lost both her blood-sister and father figure -- and unlike Eivor -- she had to deal with the pain alone.

She didn’t have anyone in her chambers to provide her with company or a shoulder to lean on, and Eivor began to wonder if he should’ve been ashamed of himself for robbing her of that.

Perhaps it was a mistake to stay with Sigurd for the night. Perhaps he should’ve simply gone to the temple like he planned, and left the prince to his own devices. Maybe then, Randvi wouldn’t be forced to endure all this grief alone. Eivor may have cherished every moment he spent with Sigurd, but he didn’t wish to do it at the expense of his sister’s well-being.

It was Randvi that Sigurd was supposed to be with, after all. And Eivor couldn’t help but question the morality of what he was doing.

“...Eivor...?” The older man suddenly murmured, causing the Wolf-Kissed to glance over his shoulder.

He came face-to-face with a pair of heavy-lidded eyes, and smiled faintly upon hearing the man’s words.

“Good morning, love.” Eivor said, rolling onto his side. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Sigurd chuckled, though it came out more like a grunt due to the sleep that still fogged his mind.

“...You didn’t wake me up. Truth is, I barely slept. My dreams were plagued with nothing but nightmares. I hope you had a better night.”

“I’d be lying if I said I did. All I could think about was Thora and Ulfar. About how they died.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t stop thinking about Dag either. It’s been hours since he first went silent, and yet... his final words refuse to leave me. It’s like he’s still here, berating me for everything I’ve done. Every time I close my eyes, my dreams take me back to the Tears of Ymir. Part of me feels as if I never left.”

Eivor snuggled up in Sigurd’s embrace, bringing himself closer to the other man.

“...We will get through this, love.” He reassured. “I know it wasn’t easy, but you gave us a chance at victory when you slew the traitor. Now, Kjotve has no allies within our walls. He’s completely by himself. And we have his son as a prisoner. We still have hope of winning this war... and it’s thanks to you.”

Sigurd raised a hand to Eivor’s cheek, gently caressing it with the back of his knuckles.

“I hope you’re right. The last thing I want is for all our sacrifices to be in vain. We can’t accept defeat now. Not when we’re so close.” The prince sat up from the bed, causing his hair to slip from his shoulders. “But for now, let’s simply focus on honoring our dead. There are many farewells that need to be said before we take things further with Gorm, and I’d like to see Dag off on his journey to Hel. He may have been a traitor, but even he doesn’t deserve abandonment in death.”

Eivor’s mood soured at the mention of Dag’s name. In spite of his agreement to granting the man a place at the funeral, he couldn’t help but feel contempt for him after everything he and Gorm did to Thora.

“Do you think Dag would’ve done the same for you?” Eivor questioned.

Sigurd hesitated, not failing to notice the sharpness in his tone.

“I... I honestly don’t know. Did he even love me in the end? Or did he view me as an enemy? A foe that he needed to eliminate?” The prince combed a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “I’d like to believe that he would stand by my grave in death, but in reality, I suspect he would’ve been the one to send me there.”

Sigurd rose from the bed and reached for his shirt, shaking his head in sorrow. “Gods... how did things go so wrong...?”

He pulled the piece of clothing over his torso, preparing to take his leave.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get dressed. I imagine my father will be awake by now, and I’d like to have a few words with him before we depart. Meet me outside when you’re ready to go. We can walk to the funeral together.”

The younger man followed suit and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, dreading the near-future. He didn’t want to attend the ceremony alone, but he also worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure in the presence of Thora and Ulfar.

“...Alright.” He said plainly. “I’ll find you when I’m ready, Sigurd.”

The prince leaned down and placed a kiss on Eivor’s forehead, bidding him farewell.

“Take care, Eivor. I’ll see you soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE HOUR LATER

THE DOCKS

Walking along the edge of the ship, Ingrida’s boots quietly thudded against the wooden floor as she tended to the pyres, preparing them for their final departure. She scattered a mixture of herbs and petals at the base of the structures, whispering a series of prayers under her breath.

Her heart ached beyond words to see three of her beloved clan members sharing a ship to the gates of the afterlife. Thora, Ulfar, and Eirik all lay side-by-side in the center of the vessel, decorated with an abundance of gifts that the villagers had left for them. They had axes, shields, food, riches, armor -- every possible boon they could use in the next realm. Their bodies had also been adorned with a handful of sweet-scented flowers, and their hands had been arranged to hold the swords in their grip.

Meanwhile, Dag rested alone in a separate ship docked on the other end of the harbor. His boat had been left barren of any gifts or offerings, and the only attention he received was from scornful villagers who were irked to see his presence at the funeral. His pyre looked about as empty as the frozen sea before them, and it appeared just as cold.

Luckily, despite the animosity the clan held for Dag, Ingrida hadn’t yet forbade herself from saying a prayer for the man. Even though he was directly linked to the death of her son, she still saw it fitting to bless him with one last prayer, as well as the dignity of being sent on a proper vessel. She carried less than no love for the dishonorable traitor, but did not wish to defile his grave, lest she cause Sigurd even more pain.

“Wherever the bridge may guide you,” Ingrida whispered, walking up to Thora, “whatever obstacles you may face, know that your memory has been marked in our clan, sister. Your words, your thoughts, your actions -- they will all continue to live among us even though you have returned to the gods. Your spirit will become as natural as the trees around us, and your name will be shrouded in the honor that was robbed of you in death. May you find peace under Hel’s gaze, and may your axe never thirst for battle. You are free now.”

The woman brought her attention to Eirik, crumbling at the sight of her son.

“Oh, my son...” she murmured, “forgive me. I never thought it would end like this. I never thought it would be me who tended to your pyre. I wanted to watch you grow old. I wanted you to enjoy the life I had given you. I wanted better for--” Ingrida’s voice faltered, causing her to pause briefly, “--you deserved... better than this. You deserved happiness. I only pray that the gods will grant it to you someday, and that we will meet again when death takes us both.” She slid a hand down Eirik’s cheek. “Rest well, my son. Your struggles will not be everlasting.”

Turning to Ulfar, Ingrida cleared her throat and took a deep breath, regaining her composure for one final farewell.

“And my dear friend, Wulfgar,” she said. “I know you were fueled by hatred for many years before you came to us. I know you carried an abundance of regrets. But as the Valkyries guide you to the Hall of Valor, I hope you can find forgiveness for yourself. Even though you were not exempt of flaws, you were one of the best men I had ever the pleasure of meeting. You were a venerable husband to Linnea, and a loving father to many of the children here.”

She sighed, placing a delicate hand over the hilt of Ulfar’s sword. “I do not know whether you will meet the Christian god or be accepted into the Allfather’s arms, but either way, remember that redemption walks with you, drengr. Your faults have been amended, and your shackles have been broken. May your freedom guide you home.”

Stepping away from the pyres, Ingrida said the last of her prayers and decided to leave the bodies alone for now, admittedly somewhat overwhelmed by the grief that was starting to sink in. For days, she had been focusing on the preparations for this funeral, and yet, nothing could’ve fully braced her for the severity of their losses.

The old völva had overseen multiple burials in the past, but she had never attended one with so many familiar faces. Thora, Ulfar, Eirik -- they were all vital people in her life. She watched them grow, she watched them cry, she watched them change. A part of her soul was attached to the three of them, and now... she had to watch them leave.

It was the hardest farewell she ever had the burden of bidding, and she hoped it would be the last.

“Ingrida?”

The seeress whirled around at the sudden greeting, not realizing that she had company.

“Oh, Eivor,” she said upon seeing her guest’s face. “I didn’t notice you were there.”

The young man approached her, keeping his hands linked in a respectful manner.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” he explained. “I saw that you were saying a prayer for them.”

Ingrida glanced back at the fallen warriors’ bodies, nodding morosely.

“...Indeed. I just finished saying goodbye to Wulfgar.”

Eivor cocked a brow at that. “Wulfgar? You mean... Ulfar?”

Ironically, his question only seemed to garner more confusion from the old woman.

“He never told you?” She asked, clearly surprised.

“Told me what?”

A look of understanding spread across Ingrida’s face. “Forgive me, young cub. I assumed you knew of this already. The two of you were like father and son, so I simply thought...” she shook her head, returning to the topic. “Anyway. Tell me, did Ulfar ever reveal that he originally came from a Saxon family?”

“Yes,” Eivor recalled. “He mentioned that before.”

“Well, his name was Wulfgar before he was adopted by the Norse. He always asked me to refer to him as that in private. It may seem like an odd request, but I think it helped him preserve some semblance of who he once was.”

“I... I never knew that. Ulfar didn’t tell any of us.”

Ingrida gazed at the raider’s lifeless face, tilting her head out of empathy.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He had a dark history before he married Linnea and joined our clan. He probably didn’t want to frighten you.”

Eivor’s curiosity got the best of him. “Can you tell me what he did, exactly?”

The seeress fell silent due to hesitance. “I... don’t think I should, Eivor. I don’t believe it would be my place. If Ulfar felt the need to keep it hidden from you, then perhaps that’s because he meant to take the secret to his grave.”

A hint of disappointment sank into Eivor’s mood, but he respected the secrecy nonetheless.

“...I understand.”

Ingrida offered another possible answer. “If your curiosity is truly piqued though, I’d recommend asking your father. Arngeir is also aware of Ulfar’s past, and he was much closer to him than I. I think he would be more suited to tell the story -- if you are willing to hear it.”

“I am. I’ll ask him about it later. Thank you.”

The woman crossed her arms and took a moment to examine Eivor, suddenly switching the subject when she noticed that he was alone.

“But enough about that. Where is Sigurd?” Ingrida questioned. “I expected him to come here with you.”

The inquisitive spark in Eivor’s eyes dimmed at the observation, and he took a slow glance at the nearby longship.

“He’s paying his respects to Dag.” He said, gesturing to the traitor’s pyre. Ingrida followed his gaze, watching as Sigurd said his goodbyes.

The downhearted prince was currently kneeling in front of the wooden tomb with his head hanging low, and a hand over Dag’s wrist. His face was hidden from the world due to his crouched position, and at the moment, all Ingrida could see was a slight quiver shaking the stillness of his shoulders.

“...His eyes burned bright with the heat of Muspelheim itself...” Ingrida whispered in revelation. “Oh, that poor man. I now understand what my vision meant. I understand what it was trying to say.”

Eivor gave the woman a puzzled look, intrigued by her train of thought.

“What do you mean?”

Ingrida brought her focus back to the young man and closed the distance between them.

“The night before Sigurd arrived, the gods sent me a dream about him. Do you remember? It was just before Freya’s statue fell at the temple.”

Eivor nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

A hint of caution took hold of her tone. “...Dag’s death will only fuel the fire already raging in your prince, Wolf-Kissed. I know I advised you to stay away from Sigurd in the past, but now, I suspect you’ll be the only one capable of pulling him back from the edge. Do not allow him to get lost in the dark. He’ll be leading us into battle not too long from now. Please, do what you can to ensure that his mind stays whole.”

“Of course, Ingrida. I--” he stuttered for a second, hesitant to be completely open, “...you know how I feel about him. I’ll try my best to help him.”

That seemed to bring relief to the seeress. “Thank you, Eivor. We need both of you if we’re going to win this war. Take care of yourselves in the storm to come. We’re almost through the brunt of it.”

Bringing their conversation to an end, Ingrida placed a soft hand on Eivor’s arm and guided him away from the pyres, stepping back onto the docks as the clan gathered for the final farewell. A line of archers had already taken their position at the front of the shoreline and set their arrows aflame, preparing for the upcoming ceremony.

“Come, young cub. It’s time to say goodbye.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Standing just beyond the tide’s reach, Eivor and Sigurd watched the funeral from afar as gusts of icy wind danced throughout the village, causing their capes to billow in the breeze. Specks of snow fluttered from the muted sky hanging above them, and in the distance, Eivor could see a number of dockhands pushing the ships away from the piers.

It almost would’ve been beautiful, if it weren’t for the morbidity of their gathering. The ships glided across the glassy surface like swans in a lake, and their hulls split the sheets of ice blocking their course. Ravens soared alongside the majestic sails as if Odin himself were guiding their departure from Midgard, and within moments, the archers had already prepared their first volley of arrows.

“Aim!” One of the warriors commanded, his voice thundering across the beach. A chain of flames immediately rose into the air, pointing directly towards the clouds.

The ships ventured a bit deeper into the ocean, causing waves of white foam to spurt around them.

“Loose!”

Releasing their grip on the bows, the archers sent a storm of arrows flying into the sky as their fiery tips set the heavens aflame, painting the atmosphere with what looked like a thousand suns. Their reflections bolted across the sea like streaks of ember, and soon after, the ships were engulfed in a cloak of fire.

Little by little, the sparks spread throughout the vessels’ entire structure, igniting everything they could touch. They easily latched onto the fallen warriors who occupied the pyres, and consumed their hollow shells like webs of frost crawling across the ocean.

It was a display fit for the gods themselves. The ships wandered like a pair of beacons shattering the dark, and Eivor could only hope that the divines would accept their new arrivals with open arms. These souls had officially traveled beyond the mortal realm, and now, their threads in the tapestry of fate had been cut.

It was finally time for Eivor to let them go. The very same war that had taken these people in the first place still burned with an unbridled fury, and it wouldn’t be long before they had to confront it once and for all.

The only thing they had to do now was get Gorm to talk. His forked tongue hid behind a guise of feigned ignorance, but Eivor knew better than to believe his twisted claims.

That man knew where Kjotve was, and he knew how to lure him out of the shadows. His information was the key to winning this war, and neither the Wolf-Kissed nor the Raven Prince would back down until they got what they wanted.

It was their only chance of survival at this point, and the last obstacle blocking their way.

~~~~~~~~~~

LATER THAT DAY

THE DUNGEON

Shoving the barred door open with a firm push, Sigurd ducked under the low frame and slipped into the room, lighting the way with a torch as Eivor followed him from behind. The weathered hinges of the door squeaked sharply in the looming silence, and a soft rattle bounced off the walls as their prisoner struggled in his chains.

Gorm was completely alone down here. Not only had he been deprived of any human contact, but the tight bricks of the dungeon had also sealed out any intruding sunlight. His hands and feet had been tied down by harsh shackles, and a rough cloth had been wrapped securely around his eyes.

Despite Gorm’s recent arrival though, it looked like someone had already visited him. In the flickering glow that radiated from Sigurd’s torch, the prince spotted fresh cuts and bruises littering the prisoner’s skin. Tiny droplets of blood stained the collar of his shirt, and by now, a slick sheen of sweat had formed on the man’s bony chest.

It wouldn’t be difficult to interrogate this man, but that didn’t mean Sigurd would go easy on him.

“Heh,” he said with a chuckle, holding the torch closer to Gorm’s wounds, “looks like someone had a talk with you already. You been having company lately, Kjotvesson? Or were our men just a bit too rough when they dragged you off the longship?”

The prisoner groaned in irritation, recognizing his captor’s voice. “...Gods above. As if my first conversation wasn’t bad enough. Now you’re here too? I’m not going to talk, Sigurd. The jarl couldn’t beat it out of me, and you won’t either.”

“Ah, so it was Arngeir who did this. I should’ve guessed.” The prince paused briefly. “...You’re lucky, you know. Not many people in this world have the same level of patience as our jarl. If it was my daughter you had killed, I would have flayed you alive.”

Gorm scoffed, shifting in his seat. “You? Everyone knows you’re soft, Styrbjornson. You couldn’t even save the jarl’s daughter from being killed. What makes you think you can get me to talk? Just throw your punches and leave me alone. You won’t get anything from me.”

Sigurd knelt down, leaning towards to the man as he spoke. “...We are one step away from winning this fucking war against your father after decades of suffering because of it. This is the closest we’ve ever been to victory in years, and the only thing blocking our path right now... is you. If you think I’m going to walk away after everything we’ve sacrificed, you are sorely mistaken.”

The prince stood up from the floor. “You can either tell me Kjotve’s location, or I can make you scream it. Either way, we’re not leaving this room until you give us what we need.”

Gorm picked up on that. “We?”

Eivor stepped forward, joining Sigurd’s side. “I’m here too, Gorm.”

“Ah, the Raven Prince’s whore. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. I know you follow Sigurd around like a lost pup, always pining for his attention. Word spreads quickly, you see--”

Sigurd threw a quick jab at Gorm’s cheek, silencing the man in an instant.

“Well you won’t hear anymore about us from now on. Your ally is dead, Gorm. We found him.”

That seemed to instill a sense of alarm in the prisoner. “...Ally?”

“Yes. Dag.” Sigurd clarified. “I know he was aiding you. I know he told you about the assault on your father’s fortress. But he’s dead now. You no longer have any friends here, Kjotvesson. There’s no one who can rescue you.”

The pace of Gorm’s breath quickened at the news, and his jaw clenched in fear.

“...So. What is it you want, exactly?”

“Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said? Tell me where Kjotve is, and all this comes to an end. It’s that simple.”

Sigurd reached down, ripping Gorm’s blindfold off with a harsh tug.

“We’re running out of time...! I’m giving you one last chance to tell us the information we need, but after that--” he yanked out his axe, “--I start hacking.”

Still, the prisoner resisted. “...Y-You wouldn’t. You don’t have the stones.”

The prince smirked. “Don’t I? Let me tell you something, Gorm.” Sigurd raised the axe to the other man’s face, positioning it right underneath his chin. “Just yesterday, this axe was buried in the heart of my brother. I put it there... after he confessed his treachery.”

It didn’t take long for Gorm to put the pieces together. “...Dag was your brother?”

Sigurd nodded slowly. “Not by blood, but that didn’t mean anything to us. We were still family. We still shared a bond. In the end though... he proved to be a danger to our clan, and so, I cut him down in one strike.” His eyes narrowed in rage. “...I was willing to execute a man I had known for all my life, purely for the sake of protecting this clan. He meant the world to me, and yet, I still killed him with my own two hands. What makes you think you stand a chance?”

Gorm scooted back in his seat, plastering himself against the back of the chair in an attempt to get away from the redheaded viking.

“You’re out of your mind, Sigurd.”

“All the more reason for you to give me what I want.”

The prisoner was quiet in response, leading Sigurd to shrug in a casual manner.

“Fine. If that’s how you wish to do things...”

The prince brought the torch’s flame to his axe, heating up the edge until it was red hot.

“W-w-wait!” Gorm exclaimed. “Wait!”

“Having second thoughts, Kjotvesson?”

“I-- look, I can’t tell you!”

Sigurd removed the axe from the fire and grinned, brandishing its scorching blade to the man.

“What’ll your father do? Kill you?”

Eivor laughed lightly, undeniably amused by Gorm’s squirming. “He’ll be lucky if he’s still alive by then.” His tone hardened. “Maybe we should string him up and leave him outside. Give him the same treatment he gave to my sister.”

Gorm shot him a glare. “Oh, you’ll join her soon enough, Wolf-Kissed. Don’t think this is over. Just because you’ve survived this long doesn’t mean--”

Sigurd pressed the axe down on his arm, causing the man to let out an anguished shout.

“Shit!” Gorm yelled, jolting violently in his restraints. The prince removed the blade after a moment and stepped back, leaving a prominent burn on the surface of his skin.

“If you’re done barking, I’d like to hear what we came for.”

“...You’ve lost your mind, Sigurd...!” The prisoner panted out, still dazed from the pain. “I’ll kill you for this. You and your whole clan!”

The redheaded man grabbed him by the collar, yanking him closer to his face.

“Tell me where Kjotve is! Now. Unless you want me to start slicing.”

Gorm turned away from Sigurd, doing his best to avoid eye contact with him.

“I... can’t!”

“Well, you will. I don’t care what kind of threats your father has made. You will tell us what we need to know, one way or another.”

The prisoner hesitated. “But why should I? You’ll kill me anyway! I’m as good as dead no matter what I do. I may as well keep silent.”

“Because your fate has yet to be determined. Cooperate with us, and perhaps I can grant you a faster death. But if you resist, I’ll have no choice but to keep this going. So save us both the trouble, and just tell me where Kjotve is.”

Gorm trailed off into silence once again, reconsidering his approach. He still appeared reluctant to comply with Sigurd’s demands, but his eyes flicked around the room in a way that made it clear he was slowly changing his mind.

“You... you promise you’ll give me a swift death if I tell you how to find my father? Is that what you’re saying?”

Sigurd looked directly into Gorm’s gaze, taking on a more sincere tone.

“...You have my word.”

The prisoner took the answer to heart and cursed quietly under his breath, frustrated at the dilemma that had been presented to him. He knew he was dead regardless of how the future unfolded, but he wondered if there was a chance he could find mercy in the hands of a proper executioner.

“...Damn it all.” Gorm finally said. “Fine. I’ll... I’ll tell you what you want to know. But you must keep your word.”

Sigurd waited patiently for a response. “Well? Where is he?”

The other man’s head drooped in shame. “...My father is sailing west. To England.”

That took the prince by surprise. “England? What in Hel’s name is Kjotve doing all the way out there?”

“He has allies in that country,” Gorm explained. “And they’re more than just simple raiders. His allies in England are part of something far bigger than you could ever anticipate. They will destroy you if he manages to rally them in time.”

Eivor crossed his arms in thought, suddenly feeling less confident. “...Shit. He must be miles ahead of us by now.”

“Actually, he could still be within your reach. I don’t think my father has officially embarked just yet. He mentioned stopping by an island along the way; to gather food and supplies before making the journey. You could still catch him.”

Sigurd stepped away from Gorm. “Then we need to leave immediately. We can’t allow Kjotve to sail into Saxon waters. If he makes it there, we’ll have lost him for good. There’s no way we could hunt him down in English territory without sparking another war.”

Eivor brought up another subject, slowing the prince down before he could get too far ahead of himself.

“Wait, what do we do about him?” He asked, gesturing to Gorm with a jerk of the head.

Sigurd eyed the prisoner up and down, contemplating how to dispose of the man. When he first set foot in the dungeon, he had originally planned to finish Gorm off with an axe to the chest -- similar to the method he used for Dag -- but now, he was having second thoughts.

“...We’ll let my father decide.” He settled with.

Eivor had to admit, he wasn’t expecting that. “Your father?”

Sigurd took a calming breath, thinking back to his conversation with his lover earlier that day. “He’s right about me, Eivor. I’m too impulsive. If I’m going to inherit the crown someday, I must learn to wield more restraint. Gorm murdered someone from our kingdom, so my father will determine his fate in a trial. Seems only fitting, seeing as how he’s the king.”

The younger man was pleased to see that the prince had taken his advice so seriously.

“A wise choice. We should inform Styrbjorn right away, then. We have no time to lose.”

Gorm jumped back in. “Wait! What if the king doesn’t allow me a quick death like we agreed?”

“I’ll explain to him the deal we made,” Sigurd assured. “My father is a man of honor, despite some of the things he does. He will understand.” He brought his attention back to Eivor, continuing their conversation. “Anyway, could you speak to Arngeir while I find my father? If we’re going to catch Kjotve on time, we’ll need everyone to be prepared. Everyone.”

“Of course. I’ll let him know of the plan.”

“Thank you.” Sigurd walked past the Wolf-Kissed, halting in his tracks to whisper something in the man’s ear. “Meet me on the hill outside the longhouse when you’re finished. There’s something I want to show you.”

Eivor nodded, whispering back to him. “I’ll be there.”

“Then I’ll see you soon, my love. But for now, let’s just focus on preparing for the upcoming battle. This war isn’t going to get any easier in the next few days, but if we’re lucky, it’ll end soon. Kjotve is hiding just beyond the horizon. We can’t let him escape.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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thecrenellations · 3 years

Photo

Return of the Thief Notes, Part Three: The Book of Pheris, Volume 2, Chapters 6-14 and “Alyta’s Missing Earring”

Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part One | Part Two | TaT)

Contents: Elephants, guesses about gods and dead men, villain team up, the unexpected, AAAAAAH, elaboration on the word cloud above (which is one big Gen, medium Pheris, medium love, and scattered other names), and more quantitative analysis! I love this book.

Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)

Chapter 6

285. unkingly moment, last night with her at home

MISMATCHED STOCKINGS (I have a thing about this.)

Wedges of ribbons?

285. cute

286. a pitneen? A drunk bird?

Wait. Gift of animals??? Did he steal the thunderbolts wearing it?

A canary no longer

287. Hilarion and Ion, wow

Throw a cup of wine on me

288. War pants! War pants!

What’s Attolia wearing?

Sophos! (the whistling!)

288. Ok fine it’s gonna be sad ... I say as if I didn’t just experience the trial (the last lighthearted moment)

Pepper!

Be careful Pheris

Also Relius went to Dite and Juridius, right? (I was convinced Dite would show up)

Sinerine!

290. SOCKS! Yay <3 magus

I was resigned to not much magus but he is HERE!

He’s … so much nicer than he was to the kids in the Thief, lol

A CART!

Lamb, falling in same paragraph. Worried.

Gen :( Gen you ran all over the palace and leapt in the water last night. You are so stupid.

292. Yay Sophos I love you

Math buddies!

294. I’M SAD.

They have had this convo before

I love them

It’s because I can that I think I should

295. Do not overreach. Eddis is right

Danger in self indulgence?

I love her! “I was outside chasing your brother with a stick”

296. My heart. You have to trust yourself. I don’t know if I can. Then you have to trust us.

Tactical Irene!

Thanks I’m gonna hold on to it: “The Call of life is a s powerful as the call of death, and it is no weakness to answer to it”

297. Oh no. My children. Tell each other things like that!

Great time to be childish, Gen.

Yeah honestly. It’s bothered her FOREVER

299. Pull it together, kids!

Thx Helen

Inkpots … :( :( :(

Chapter 7

302. See … that Continent occupation isn’t good either!

303. Unfortunately that is NOT an alternative. Bc volcano.

305. This is stressful.

Chloe, interesting

306. Elephants

Oh my god it’s better than I ever could have imagined (there was like 10 years of lead up to the elephants, and I thoroughly enjoyed them)

I love him

Gen wtf

Yes drink up those guards (“We could keep [an elephant] in the guard’s bathhouse! There’s plenty of room.” “And the guards will bathe ...?” “In the palace reservoir.” “Our drinking water.”)

#6 Gen about elephants

308. This is gonna be a disaster

Hilarion with an eyeglass

Fuck Pheris is making this up.

Gen I love you

Oh my god

Honestly idk if Gen is having fun but I AM

They’re. They’re such a power couple.

Also Bu-seneth is so rude to Attolia

309. so vague about battle, but I’m sure it’s horrible

310. hero talk. Chills.

311. all the woman comparisons for Gen (“Would [a world with no war and no heroes be a bad thing?” “That’s a woman’s question”)

Wow. Interesting. Anonymity

312. Don’t listen to them Gen!

Bad tempered cooks

313. lol. Good looks.

Gen. the hand joke. Why

Well that was … a scene (I don’t know my Henry V)

Reassuring to have a glove. Which one?

314. No. Bad. This is what I was afraid of. (Nahuseresh baiting Gen with Kamet)

Ok Pheris

315. That cannot be true. (it was not!)

Gen. No. No.

316. Wow. That worked out well. So far.

They called him annux. If Kamet is really dead…

319. Yeah Attolia is RIGHT

Yeah I can’t actually either!

Irene knows. In his story!

320. Glove resolved very fast

Interesting reversal (Gen and his dad)

Maddening!

Chapter 8

322. who’s charging off in a haze of glory now

Philologos wounded

Wait, the attendants follow him in to battle...

Cleon RIP

Temenus <3

No. Stenides

If they ever returned.

His brother died in an explosion

Gen’s tears

This is sad.

323. lion lamb :(

325. At least they have each other

Morality is an illusion. Like safety?

326. that’s what Costis was mapping, right? (nope)

How many has Gen killed now

328. Who. Pol? Ambiades? (The cairn man question remains)

Oh no

Oh no. you can fall from a horse

HILARION!

Is Fordad a spy?

I am just not accepting this yet

WAIT THE MEDES TOOK HIM! (I thought the Attolians had taken Gen, or Gen’s body, at first.)

330. wow things only Pheris can do

GDI Erondites

WOW THIS IS A VILLAIN TEAM UP

332. You gave it to him dude (Nahuseresh asking “Why does he still have this?” about Gen’s hook)

I love Gen. I wonder if he’s afraid.

This is bad.

Whose treason, whose betrayal?

333. Yeah! Kamet said so (“Tell me again that you are king.” “Annux, if you prefer.”)

334. Oh god.

Get your stories straight bastards

Rolled in a rug!

336. Oh gen

Oh god

Yeah this is …

Be careful what you ask for

338. What did he sign as, though, Attolis? Eugenides?

Nomenus wtf

What does mwt have against facial hair (Fordad, Nahuseresh)

Costis please come (idk how I thought he was going to help, but I was in Costis Denial and expected him to show up at any moment)

Everyone must be going through a lot

A face like an open grave

Gen.

Gen I love you

YES

Is he … invulnerable now?

Gen what.

Is he possessed? Is he already a god?

341. Yeah same. (“I think he meant that I should not fear him, either. I did, though ... I still followed him”)

This isn’t being self indulgent or overreaching, is it?

342. RIP Ion Nomenus

“My work”

Oh Nomenus

Does he just exist for the morally gray and loyal angst feelings? It works (...)

344. What did he DO

Yes! Swearing Gen!

345. love all caps Gen

Those names

Aaah

346. Ooof.

Chapter 9

347. moon promises

Yeah

Noooo Philologos :(

Legarus … :(

349. Gen what what

Sparks

Costis? Stenides? STENIDES?

Wow ok he killed Bu-seneth

350. god

See I said Nahuseresh shouldn’t have said that

Also is Gen a bastard

351. WHAT (“Because your council had just voted to kill him”)

Oh Helen

Oh Irene

Does he invite him in?

This is reassuring to the reader (“He can bear his god a little while without losing himself”)

Aaaaah Galen

354. Gen that’s a lot. A lot.

Don’t kill everyone.

So so so x7 of doom

Bye Yorn

I hope he wins too

Go away Nahuseresh

Omg

another fall

Interregnum

Ok it was Lader (when you don’t know who the man at the cairn was, keep on guessing!)

Yeah the circumstances thing is back

Oh god

Oh no

Chapter 10

361. how long has it been?

362. three days

I love them (Elephants! My excellent queen!)

You promised to trust him

364. Oh no. Oh no. (Relius)

370. These Helen convos…

371. Sad. :(

372. Emtis and Lader

Yeah.

Omg

374. Wow

Steal by elephant?

377. Don’t forget about Dite!

378. He’s gonna kill him?

379. Is Dite dead too?

Oh Sejanus

Oh I see

He’s got a mercy taste too

380. Switching!

Lying in moonlight. Hm.

381. Yesss

Nooooo

383. I’m nervous

Gods blessing on your road

Wow. <3

They would have fallen… (if Pheris had gone through with his plan, that’s how they both would have died)

Did not expect Sejanus feelings in Rott.

Chapter 11

386. He’s gonna know. But the trust.

Ion knows.

390. Gen…

Pheris is Lyopidus?

I’m scared

393. I kind of love Ion

More Sejanus, bring it on

I’m nervous

Hmmm… who could it be

395. MoW :( <3 I will not be ok if he dies too

Gen knows the way bc Costis (nope)

Oh my god these two (“I lied” “I know”)

Chapter 12

398. Oh no.

This is not

Her Thief

Irene. “only sleeping” this is what Eddis said to her

But mist… water???

Face touch

402. not living or dead. King

Yes. But no.

403. crying at everything and the MoW next to him

There he went

It was the Eddisians. He fought with them.

404. yeah that’s a lot to deal with, Pheris

405. what a mystery man (Sejanus)

Lol mysterious exit averted

Excuse me that was a difference

406. :(

Am I king

407. Helen is once again right. She’s also always right

MOIRA was Melisande???!??!? (who even knows)

409. ?? Irene?

Same as for Dite. Man loves his brothers. (nephews. you know what I mean.)

Nice.

AAH yup. Add it to the list (“How neatly you tie them together” ... the list of is ways Gen and Irene are becoming more like each other)

410. speaking of which where is Costis!

Hm… what god was that

I love their reactions

411. SPLENDID.

Oh Irene. It’s true <3

It’s so true (“When the king gives his heart he gives it completely”)

Now I’m crying again, at them

412. Gen, she has a point.

Amazing. I … I don’t think she meant to ask like THAT

Jesus, Gen.

You do not know a wagon from a wheelbarrow

413. Irene!

She’d better get home safe.

Gen!

Omg

414. I have another bad feeling, about Gen

415. High king or queen though?

Magus <3

Chapter 13

416. “of course”

That’s ominous

417. No! Sejanus!

A gut wound yikes

418. sadness

419. lol “ill will”

We’re in Roa. My heart’s pounding.

422. I love Gen.

YESSS

Yes I love them.

Sheep.

Kamet!!!

?!?

Costis. Mattresses exist.

424. Oh no.

426. roof dream

Good roof dream

Good job Helen

428. TWINS. Everyone was RIGHT

Reyatimi

Oh shit. The sky.

Oh dear. :( aaah

430. Climbing the rigging!

“it’s just that you have so many least favorite things”

431. I love them (Gen and Irene)

432. I love them (Gen and Helen)

433. RIGHT! I was thinking

I can’t <3 (they’re naming the baby after the MoW, and it’s perfect, and she’s not gonna tell us, huh)

OH MY GOD!!! (baby thief!)

WOW!

434. AAAAAAH (Hector! @threetoadswaltz finished reading before me and knew that I would explode about this and I DID, I threw my arms in the air! HECTOR!)

PERFECTION!

435. AAAAAAAAH (this was when it became clear they were going to dance on the roof)

Yes she was (as surefooted as the king)

Is this the first time she’s Irene

Yes.

I’m filled with happiness

Celia and Lavia again … lol.

Lol Chloe

THALIA

CRENELATED wall

HE’S ALIVE

Kamet is a sweetheart

The gods!!!

The gods!

Aracthus

Mystery goddess?

Ula?

Moira! Yes!

(I was very happy. The page itself:)

Alyta’s Missing Earring

Wait. Was it Alyta.

Glad we got a bi god (with all due respect to Immakuk and Ennikar, whose bi-ness and godliness is perhaps more up to the reader)

Got very bi very fast

Also. He’s Gen.

Interesting difference in story

Kathodicia!

Are we literally getting ALL the answers? (No. But so many more than I expected!)

Gen’s grandfather sucks

An urn huh

Omg. Heiro’s earrings?

Oh my gosh.

Same, Gen. Same.

Obvs Phresine knows.

Is Phresine a goddess?

Same, Gen. Same.

She got to tell a story! She is so happy!

I think he’s a little scared

Moleskin

Yeah peace huh

This series is socially sanctioned silliness

1000 Eugenides. Wow.

They did melt though

Little thief.

<3 <3 <3

He’s a character in a story

A big question

Tamarisk? Takima? (We are not getting all the answers.)

That’s it! Thank you for reading - it feels very self-indulgent to type up all of these, but I will honestly take most chances to relive the intense and wonderful experience of reading this book for the first time, which often means looking back at my own notes and sometimes means sharing them with people. Also, I really love reading liveblogs/real-time book thoughts, so here is one from awhile ago ... all at once.

Anyway, check out this word cloud from all of the notes (made with this site):

It’s ... mostly just character names, with a variety of words that express my enthusiasm and feeling (love, lol, wow, yes, excuse me...). Gen is the biggest because I said his name 115 times! Here are some totals for the other characters who came up a lot:

115 - Gen (and 10 Eugenides)

42 - Pheris

26 - Costis

18 - Irene (and 6 Attolia)

16 - Helen (and 8 Eddis)

10 - Sophos (and 4 Sounis)

12 - the magus

11- Kamet

11 - Teleus

10 - Relius

9 - Ion

6 - MoW

6 - Moira

5 - Sejanus

These don’t fully represent how much I had to say about them, because I didn’t always refer to people by name or title ... which kind of explains why Costis’s total is ridiculously high compared to how much he is in the book - I likely have more notes about other characters, but I didn’t need to bring up their names because they were already present in the scenes I was taking notes on (for example, I think I talked about Relius more than Teleus, the magus, or Kamet, but many of those just referred to him as he, because it was obvious to me who I meant). But also I was just looking for Costis! Anyway. My use of names and titles for the monarchs also really illustrates how much this book reshaped the way I think of these characters’ relationship to them, Gen’s and Irene’s especially.

It’s representative of my feelings about this series that I wrote “I love them” about so many combinations of characters. Who, exactly? And how many times? Well...

5 - Gen and Irene

4 - Gen and Helen

2 - Gen and Pheris

1 - Gen, Irene, Helen, and Sophos

1 - Helen and Sophos

1 - Costis and Kamet

1 - unknown combo of Gen, Pheris, and Relius on p.166, I love them all and can’t remember. Kamet’s map was there, too, and I do love Kamet, so maybe he was in there too.

no matter what the numbers say, I love them all endlessly, and I love this book.

be blessed in your endeavors, yes I will take any questions about these notebook screams, etc.

#annotating this caused me to look back at so many scenes i will never be over #aaah #return of the thief #the queen's thief #mwt #return of the thief spoilers #rott spoilers #something i #hey #threetoadswaltz #i tagged you because i mentioned you but reading this is not Required #you know it all anyway. ... this time ;)#it was just your exploding comment

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tellywoodtrash · 4 years

Text

immj2 30.10.20 lb

lol ishani is suchhhhhhhhh a messy bitch. not even pretending to look less than outright gleeful.

le, iska rona shuru. god sis, you knowwwwwww these bitches have it out for you, then why do you give them the satisfaction of seeing this reaction???

yeh aadmi hai ya bhagwaan? koi bhi jagaah koi bhi time marzi se prakat ho jaata hai.

THAT FUCKING STUPIDASS SCARF IS RUINING THE WHOLEEEEEE LOOOK. GOD WHY DO THEY DO THIS TO HIM?????????

TUMNE JITNE TELLYWOOD FANS KO KHOOOON KE AANSOON RULAAYE HAINNNNA SHIRALI, BHAGWAN TUMHE IN PAAPON KE LIYE KABHI NAHI MAAF KAREGA!!!!!!!!!!

also, just noticed the set and production design credits and finally have names to put on all the hate mail i wanna send.

naaaah jk, i think it's really nice that they got employment in this pandemic, even with their OBVIOUS lack of taste. so much so, that it seems to be a medical condition!

anyway, he said he got this sargi for ishani on behalf of angre, but since she's got hers anyway, this one can be given to riddhima. noice. this fucker be worming his way into my heart with shit like this.

inka phir se popat bann gaya.

mummy biting out and giving the worst blessing of all, “sadaa suhaagan raho.” which is just an elaborate way of saying "hope you die before your husband does, because life without a man is worse than death itself!!!!!!"

“thank you mummyji. aapne ~~sachchi neeyat~~~ se sargi taiyyar kii thi toh dekhiye, mere haath khaali nahi hain!”

lmao nice. where was this riddhima allllll along?????? i've been waitinggggg for this snarky bitchhhhh who doesn't take shit!!!!!

le, aadarsh bahu mode is back on. sab ke liye koi paath ka intezaam kiya. chanchal chachi was right, she's suchhhhh a annoying suck-up to dadi, honestly.

husband is like here, no one's looking; sneak some almonds, come on. yes, i approve. this the kinda man* you want ladies. one who's willing to have a few hours taken off his lifespan so you don't get hangry.

(*T&C strictly apply: only in this feeding waala criteria wrt this dude. baaki sab toh disaster hi disaster hai iss mein.)

“kaisi baat kar rahe ho??? vrat sachchi nishtha se kii jati hai. koi nahi dekh raha par bhagwaan dekh rahe hain!”

lmao, the most appropriate response.

wait you guys genuinely need a gif of this moment, coz it’s priceless:

i can't believe they don't let this dude move his face in this show when he is the MOST ENTERTAINING when he doessssss.

he's like dude i'll adjust with the 2 hours less in my life, but dharampatni is i won’t let you escape a minute of suffering existence in this flesh prison we’re all trapped in, so help me god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

who the fuckkkkkkkkk is this????? and you know you didn't need a needle on the syringe for this whole thing, don't you???

vansh's "baaz ki nazar" toh i've long given up on, but riddhima's peripheral vision also seems to be completely shit if she didn't notice a wholeass person wrapped in all black skulking around directly in her eyeline, not 10 feet away.

lmaooooooo dadi is like tf you doing here, and the hasty retreat he beat. scaryass men soft for their sweet old grandmas is a trend i really do love in tellywood.

oh i like ishani's outfit.

blah blah blah KC gyaan idgaf.

riddhima has lit diya and instant cough attack from the smoke.

it's her. she's the one who did this. looks like she's okay with bhai dying a few days earlier than fated, as long as it means she knocks riddhima down a few pegs.

mummy rubbing it in saying dekho yeh akhand paath hai, beech mein rukna nahi chahiye, apshagun hota hai. godddddddddddddd.

I HONESTLY CANNOT WATCH HER COUGH AND CHOKE THROUGH THIS THE SHEER RIDICULOUSNESS OF THIS IS FUCKING KILLING MEEEEEEEEE

yeh lo ji, parmeshwar prakat ho gaye to save the day and read the paath himself.

all dudes in the world should be in whatever business this guy and angre are in. ki biwi mil gayi toh it manages itself while he devotes himself to her.

lmao the sheer earnestness with which he's narrating the KC paath. both wholesome and fucking hilarious. looks like those primary school kids at their first public speaking contest.

i am ishani. god, why won't this scene just endddddddd already, i'm dying of cringe.

whoooooooooooops. bhai is pointedly asking ki how riddhima's throat got messed up when she was fine like 3 min ago.

behen is giving earnesttttttt excuses and he's really "sure jan"-ing her.

dadi's all no matter what issues crop up in these two's lives, i'm sure they'll win over it with their lurrrrrrrrrrrrrrve. yeah, it looks that way rn, but i wouldn't be quite so optimistic yet, dadi.

literally no one is surprised by this revelation.

oh god, she has something more planned. man who are these ppl with so much energy in their lives WHILE PREGNANT, to do such scheming and plotting??????? just my period cramps have me taking 2 hours off work to curl up on my heat pad and cry about ouchieeeeeee.

great. ragini ko ab daure pad rahein hain.

and poor angre is saddled with getting her treatment. WHY DOES HE HAVE TO DEAL WITH ALL THESE TROUBLESOME WOMEN IN YOUR LIFE VANSH?!?!?! EK ADIYAL BEHEN ISKE SAR PE BAANDH DI HAI WOH KAAFI NAHI THA, KI AB INVALID EX KO BHI ISKE HI HAATH MEIN THAMAA DIYA. i know you got your hands full with that disaster wife of yours, but come on man.

oh god is he gonna blow up at her again for eavesdropping!?!!?!?!?

thank the lord above, she had airpods in. (also lmao, ofc she's literally the airpods meme.)

isn't HE supposed to give HER a gift today???

i liked his other watch better. but this watch is supposedly riddhima “ke dil ki dhadkano se judi hai” so........ i'm no expert in cutting edge watch technology, so sure. sounds like something that would be available for the wives of billionaire gangster’s wives to buy.

oh man she got herself a matching one. which ofc is “tumhare dil ki dhadkano se judi hai.” lord, she CHEESY CHEESYYYYYYYYYYYY. and i'm mildly lactose intolerant, so 🤢🤢🤢

this dude is not though. he falling for this hard and fast. which is....... unexpected. nice, but also suspicious.

“yeh ghadiyaan chahe rahein naa rahein riddhima, lekin tum mere dil mein hamesha rahogi.”

that's sweet. and i'd believe and squee over it if this was any other show. i would. but in this show, literally everyone other than dadi/siya is out to fuck each other over and i don't trust a single goddamn word out their hissy snake mouths.

aaaaaaaaaaaaand ofc he's vrat-ing for her too. BECAUSE THIS IS A FEMINIST SHOW WITH THIS VERY FEMINIST HERO OK?!!!!!!?!?!!!!?!? THIS ONE EPISODE ABSOLVES ALLLLLLLLLLLL THE OTHER 98 EPISODES FILLED WITH HOT FLAMING TRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!

“apni umar badhaake kya karoonga main, agar tum saath nahi ho. main chahta hoon ki tum meri zindagi ki aakhri saans tak mere saath raho.”

again, very very sweet and all, esp. with these soft melty eyes; but it's this show. and we saw the upcoming promo. sooooooooo, kill bill sirens in my head, i'm afraid.

both mann hi mann mein deciding to tell each other the truth about their backstories after the vrat. which should work out splendidlyyyyyyy.

lo ji dream sequence shuru. voot blocked the music but colors put up the scene with bol na halke halke on instaTV so i watched it there.

yesssssssssss you messy trainwrecks. get it onnnnnnnnnn.

this is literally alllll i am watching this show for. the moment y'all bang in canon, i'm outttttttttttt. it's always the best time to quit a tellywood show. always. take this protip from wise, old TT. quit the show the episode the lead couples fuck. just trust me on this.

idk WHOSE dream sequence this is, but lmao it's got the vibes of a not-that-great wedding "promo" thing ppl have got going on these days. which one of y'all is binging these on youtube and thus has their subconscious filled with it/??? it's gotta be riddhima, but it would be absolutely fucking hilariousssssss if it was in fact, vansh.

yup. it was her dumb ass. i bet she had the exact video in mind for kabir and just cut-copy-pasted vansh's face in there from the last week onwards.

oh chachi's back from maayka for vrat kholing.

mans literally do be looking like the chand today. because they eased up on his yellow foundation, thank god.

poor ishani. god, this is why we need feminism. so our sisters don't get pushed into shit like this against their willllllllllllllllll.

dadi and siya shipping riansh to the point of making ppl uncomfortable. what next, you gonna be writing mature fanfic about them on IF????? BACK THE FUCK OFF, YOU WEIRDOS.

“humaare plans kamyaab hote toh vansh iss waqt riddhima ko zeher ki pyaali pilaa raha hota. hmph.”

lmaoooooooooooooooo mummy is an eternalllllllll mood.

this one is getting overly emotional about her first completed karwachauth vrat. eat a snickers, bitch.

dadi overpromising and saying shit like evennnnnnnnn god himself can't shake your love for each other, tumhari prem kahaani billlkulllll pooori hogi and what not. oh dadi, did YOU not see the promo?????

this one got the footage she needed and has duly handed it over to bhai. both of vansh's sisters have the trait for going straightttttt to him with their sordid discoveries, albeit for completely polar reasons.

lmaoooooo the way she peaced out.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand he's started growling about how all this KC naatak was fake and and vowing revenge and games for her dhokaaaaaaaaaa. i hate to say it but............ i told you so.

also abbe oh gobar ganesh. itna CCTV footage mila hai kahin se, toh baaki ka bhi toh dhoond, where you see how she got into the bloody dickey?!?!???! nahi, 2 out-of-context second hi dekh ke paagal saand ki taraah bekaabu ho jaana hai. shit for brains, literally everyone in this show has.

anyway, if i was vansh’s murti maker, i’d be expecting a call righhhhhht about now. riddhima yahaan rahe na rahe, uski murti zaroor rahegi, which vansh and his next paramour will demolish together as a bonding/foreplay exercise.

#ishq mein marjawan 2 #immj2 #immj2 lbs #episode liveblogs

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invisibleinorange · 3 years

Text

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: T Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties), Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington, Benedict Bridgerton, Portia Featherington Additional Tags: Bridgerton, Polin Summary: Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes". (#I’mHereToKillYouAllWithFeels)

Getting Eloise to leave her alone again had been quite the task, especially after she went catatonic upon being handed the letter. She’d had to promise that there would be no further rash actions.

Her brain simply ceased to function because Colin Bridgerton writing her any letter felt beyond the realm of possibility. She wasn’t the kind of girl that any guy wrote those kinds of things to much less someone as perfect as Colin.

That was precisely the way she thought of him. He had been so perfect.

She couldn’t recall the first moment he transitioned from Eloise’s brother to the object of her every waking desire but that was because she’d felt that was as long as she could remember.

Not once in all those years did she allow herself the indulgence of believing that he could ever feel the same. His cordiality was the most she thought to hope for.

The only place that more could existence was in her very vivid imagination.

It was disorienting to go from extreme sadness to near ecstasy and then back to sadness once the reality set back in. Had she had any inkling he was still alive, she would have run away from home and used her Whistledown earnings to find him.

It was those thoughts that comforted her once she was tucked in her bed and left to her own devices. It played out so easily imagining arriving in Greece, tracking him down at some beautiful seaside inn.

She could almost imagine him scandalously shirtless on some beach, body glistening with the water from the sea and his trousers damp from having just taking an unplanned swim. She could picture his handsome, charming smile and his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her.

She would have started to run to him and finally said the words that she’d wanted to say before he left. The words that she knew now could have prevented his trip to begin with.

His response in her imagination was enough to leave her aching. She could almost feel the warmth of his hand pulling his closer, his mouth scandalously close to her own. She could hear the chuckle from his lips and some teasing remark.

Her imagination dared not let it go further though.

The dream was what made her turn in her sleep, cry when she woke up in the morning and the reality sunk back in. Whatever he felt for her, losing him had made her see the depth of her own feelings all the more. She truly had loved him.

“I promise I’ll give him up forever if you just let him come home,” she uttered to an invisible God, knowing as soon as it was from her lips that had it ever come to fruition, it would be beyond her abilities to do. She would never give him up, never stop loving him. She loved him so much that she’d sacrifice her own happiness a million times over just to know he was alive and well. “I promise I’ll do whatever you want. You can’t possibly be this cruel.”

After a particularly intense debate, it was Benedict who ended up winning the battle of who would be the one to sacrifice on behalf of the family this time. He and Anthony agreed that it was vital that they ensure that his brother’s last known wishes were addressed.

Gregory was far too young to be considered a vital prospect so it had been between the two of them. Anthony had to sacrifice enough for their family. As much as Benedict desired a different kind of life and he wasn’t quite certain marriage was a part of it. The only way to be assured that Penelope was cared for was for her to marry one of them.

He admittedly didn’t know the girl as well as some of his siblings. Eloise had always been his favorite though and as such, he knew that his sister wouldn’t have chosen an unworthy best friend. He also knew that Colin wouldn’t have been quite so worked up over a no one.

He’d shared a few dances with Penelope during the year mostly at his mother’s urging as a mercy. When he looked at her, he thought of her as the little girl she’d once been instead of the woman. There wasn’t attraction there but he found her congenial and kind.

While his parents had shared a great love story, his mother had never been shy to tell her children that not marriages were born of love. Sometimes, they were born of necessity. There was always room for companionship and friendship to grow into love.

He was uneasy about the whole ordeal but he was a man of his word. Once it was settled, it was simply a matter of approaching the discussion with Portia Featherington. If he were honest, such a conversation was far more frightening than the prospect of a marriage that wasn’t born of some unrelenting love.

He was almost grateful when Eloise brought news that she’d shared the letter because it had bought him more time. He had to let the dust settle before he could even think to approach such a thing. He nearly lost his nerve as he crossed the way to the Featheringtons and requested an audience with Lady Featherington.

It wasn’t the right season for callers, especially for her daughters. The assumption when the staff announced Benedict Bridgerton had come to speak with her was that this was a mourning visit. She couldn’t logically think of any other reason for such a visit.

She’d had her staff bring him to the drawing room, standing once she saw him in the doorway.

There was a quiet exchange of bows, her eyes appraising before gesturing where he might sit. He had flowers in hand.

“Can I offer you some tea, Mister Bridgerton?” she asked.

“It won’t be necessary.”

“Well then, I must admit I’m most curious for the reason for you visit,” she said, eyeing the flowers with curiosity. “As you know, the season has been over for some time now and our home is in mourning. As it yours from what I hear. We’ve all been so truly sorry to hear about Colin. It’s such a tragedy.”

Benedict wasn’t quite sure she was actually sorry about the loss of his brother. He remembered himself and presented the flowers though. The whole conversation so far reminded him why he tended to avoid any interaction with the women. He hoped Penelope wasn’t horribly attached to her mother because while he was perfectly fine accepting her as part of his life forever, he wasn’t quite willing to accept her mother.

“Well it’s quite indelicate but it is of the utmost importance that I seek your … permission,” he tried to explain, coughing into his hand to try and find words that felt unnatural. He’d always desired a different kind of life than this. “Both of our families have experienced loss lately and it is my … wish to ease some of the pain both our families are feeling. I would like to ask your daughter … Penelope to wed – clearly an extended engagement – respectful to our losses but a proposal none the less.”

If he could have grown a second head, Portia Featherington wouldn’t have looked at him any less bewildered and startled by this turn of events.

“It would be inappropriate to allow any wedding for the foreseeable future,” she started. She then began to try and manipulate the situation to better her situation. The money wasn’t there to pay for a dowry. She’d honestly not been prepared to have to pay a dowry for Penelope since she assumed she’d end up as a spinster. “I wouldn’t dream to deny you a dowry –“

“It won’t be necessary,” he said, trying to keep polite. The point was to assure Penelope got the happy ending Colin desired for her and frankly, he wasn’t sure someone else was going to come along and offer it. If that meant not receiving a dowry, so be it. “I really must have your blessing in the matter though.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have Prudence? – Or Felicity in a few years even?”

“No.”

“Well then,” she said with a hand gesture. “Help yourself to it then.”

The woman then proceeded to yell for her daughter so loud that it was any wonder that half the Ton didn’t hear her yelling.

Benedict hadn’t quite expected the whole thing to happen quite so… quickly. If he must do this, he’d hoped to at least given it a bit of finesse.

Penelope did enter the room as requested though.

The two exchanged looks.

Penelope looked particularly meek and perhaps a little sad from where he was sitting. He’d never quite spent more than a passing second looking at her. There was no time like the present to begin though. Penelope bowed slightly in greeting. Had it been outside the formality of her mother’s drawing room, she might have greeting him by name. Formality always seemed to slip away with Eloise’s siblings.

“Penelope, Mister Bridgerton and I just have the most peculiar conversation,” she said gesturing to the space next to herself so that her daughter would come sit down. The confusion on Penelope’s face became all the more clear.

“I wanted to seek your permission to court with the intention of marriage,” he said awkwardly. “I know that it’s off season and our families are in-”

Penelope was to her feet at once. Her face twisting in fury and confusion all at once.

“Are you drunk?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Penelope?!” her mother bellowed, clearly not charmed by the outburst before she lowered her voice and murmured under grit teeth. “That is not way to talk to your only prospect of marriage.”

“It’s quite okay,” Benedict offered, excusing away the behavior. “I know that it’s sudden but I assure you that my proposal is sincere. It’ll be a strike upon my honor should you refuse.”

“I refuse,” she said sharply.

Benedict had never quite seen the normally meek girl quite so riled up. The red of her hair seemed to spread across her skin. He seemed to take that as a sign she was quite angry.

“I cannot accept that answer,” he told her, unsure whether to laugh or be afraid.

“And I cannot accept your proposal. If this is about your brother, he would think you an idiot.”

Portia Featherington looked unsure whether to tell her daughter to stop being insolent or enjoy the front row seat to the drama. While she preferred when the drama stayed away from her own family, she did very much love to see it. Clearly her daughter had forgotten the fact she was even there.

“My brother wanted you to be happy and cared for,” the Bridgerton countered. “I simply wish to ensure that happens.”

Portia let out a soft ‘oh’ as if it suddenly made sense why a perfectly decent eligible bachelor would choose Penelope over one of her better daughters. Though, she was also semi-impressed that Penelope had somehow convinced someone to look out for her.

“I can look after myself,” Penelope argued, rising to her feet. “I’ll never marry.”

Portia finally decided to interject. “Not on my watch,” she told her daughter. “You best accept this proposal or you’ll end up on the streets. I won’t have you rejecting a Bridgerton.”

“This isn’t for negotiation,” Penelope said looking murderous as she stormed her way out of the drawing room, slamming the door on her way out.

Benedict, despite being a bit shellshocked, could only laugh.

“Well, that went well.”

#⚜ writings — polin #bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

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ditch-witches · 4 years

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Insufferable (iv) - George MacKay x reader

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

requested: yes/no (this is it. i'm done finally. thank you for your time.)

God bless @/okay.l0z

"Hi! I've been reading your fics and I love them so much bc there's hardly any around. I was wondering if you take insta requests and if so can you do one with George and the reader are like enemies to loves and they have really cute moments but then end up fighting all the time and then it escalates and they end up having sEx and then get together or something bc I will THRIVE IF YOU DO!" ... "Is it bad if I want it long ass?"

pairing: George MacKay x reader

warnings: an annoying ass insecurity moment, mentions of matcha

word count: 1,412

a/n: We wrote this during a sorority's pledge night and thought we were in the middle of a cult initiation ---- Basically the same thing but they didn't offer us any of the blood of previous sisters. #bummed

You laid awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. What had you done. There was a clock hanging on George's wall near his bed, the ticking seeming to grow louder and louder as you noticed it. Where did the lipstick come from earlier. His duvet was blue, not uncharacteristic for him, but you were pleasantly surprised at how soft his sheets were and that he slept on the side you usually avoided. Did you even love him.

Did you even love him?

What if you had been so wrapped up in passion and rage that it just felt like you did? As your high began to wear off, you wondered why you were even there. George deserved better than someone who wasn't sure. How could he have been in love with you for so long yet he chose now to make it evident? Why couldn't he have told you years prior, when you weren't finally getting somewhere with your career? The horrific aspect of it all was the fact that as soon as the sun came up the next day, the next day of your real lives away from the theatre, George would have the possibility of deciding that he didn't actually love you. Then where would you be? Back in bed with Mark, living out your dreary day-by-day as if nothing had ever happened? As you laid there, thinking about all the possibilities of what could happen, there was still one major thing on your mind: Where did the lipstick come from?

As the sunlight began to peek through the blinds, your heart sank. You felt sick and worried, knowing that at any moment, he could wake up. What would you tell him? 'I don't know what's going on. You deserve someone who does. You deserve someone who wears that shade of lipstick.' Surely not. You turned your head to look at George, his hair sprawled out over his dark pillowcase as he slept peacefully, the covers wrapping around his bare torso. The stripes from the blinds barred across his back, the latter pattern changing every so often as the sun moved behind a cloud or higher into the sky. His face was calm and without the intensity, it holds when he's awake, mainly a difference between when he's deep in thought. He looked younger and almost zen. You itched to know what he was dreaming.

You bit your lip slightly and without thought, picked yourself up out of bed to silently sweep your clothes up from around the room. Guilt weighed on your heart as you took one last look at the boy before you left his apartment. You needed to run, to keep running until your lungs burned and your legs could barely hold you up, something else to give you feeling rather than having to sort your feelings out. So you did, in your new dress and bare feet; you ran.

In the next few weeks, you attempted to gather your thoughts and sort your life out. How could you invite George in when you didn't even have a spot for him? You started off by addressing the fact that you had gotten kicked out of your own show for punching an understudy. You had texted the director earlier begging him to meet up so you could explain the situation in the hopes of smoothing over whatever feathers you had inadvertently ruffled. Thankfully he had agreed.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I wasn't firing you. I literally just wanted you to calm down."

You thought about his sentence said over a steaming cup of a matcha flavored drink, his rowdy hair blowing frantically around his head as your eye twitched slightly. Your head filled with new script plots and coursework to mix with the overwhelmed unease you experienced whenever George flashed into your mind.

His face, his hands, his voice. Every sacred touch from the man seemed to be tattooed on you, but the thought of him only came to you at night when you were alone with your never-ending stream of consciousness. You thought mainly about what it was like to finally rest in his arms. It had been too long since you hadn't talked to him. Had he forgotten about you? Had he moved on to whomever the lipstick belonged to? You started staying in most nights, catching up on work to keep you busy.

I love you.

Why had he said that? Why hadn't you said it back?

It was in November when you got an email from your local movie theater about a "throwback" night. Headlining was none other than Judge Dredd. You chuckled to yourself slightly, looking at the paperwork surrounding you and---for once---thought fuck it. You deserved a night off. Grabbing your jacket and heading out, you noticed it beginning to snow. You pulled your jacket tighter around you to combat the cold air, your mind briefly drifting to the night when you were stuffed into George's car, bundled up in his hoodie. You were within walking distance to the theater, and after getting your ticket, your seat was even easier to find. Judge Dredd hadn't made it big in the '90s---shocker---so you were honestly surprised that more than four people had shown up to the screening. Sinking into your chair, you felt small. The movie flashed onto the screen and you chuckled to yourself at the opening song, thinking of the last time you had seen the film with your brother.

And George.

The seat next to you creaked as someone settled in beside you. You didn't think to look up, only the thought of why they would have picked that seat when the whole theater was basically free crossed your mind. A familiar scent invaded your senses, your brows furrowing as you turned your head, catching the gaze of George. The two of you shared a look, your heartbeat quickening as the blues in his eyes seemed to deepen. He didn't look sad, his expression still dressed like the day on the street. You wanted to cry, finding it hard not to tell him everything at once. Instead, you turned back to the screen, breathing shallowly. A few moments passed of Sylvester Stalone's voice filling the theater until your hand fell beside your leg, wanting to be closer to George. You didn't look at him again, biting back the emotion threatening to spill over. His pinky reached out for you and you moved to grab his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his. He let out a sigh of relief and you took the opportunity to lean towards him, resting your head on his shoulder, the softness of his sweater feeling like home to you. You exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding in, finally feeling at peace.

"I love you," you whispered.

EPILOGUE.

You slipped your dress on, struggling to get the zipper up, feeling like you had lost your independence. You had been spoiled with a man that would zip you up without being asked. You groaned slightly, tugging your shoes on instead and calling out. George peeked around the doorframe, his eyebrows raised slightly as he tugged at his cuffs. "Do you mind?" You asked, holding up your hair and turning your back to him. You heard him chuckle, walking over to you and zipping your dress up, placing a kiss to the back of your neck. "I feel like a damn beached whale."

George let out an almost snickering response. "I love whales."

"You're not helping." You turned to him, rolling your eyes slightly. His features seemed to soften as he looked you over. He still looked at you like you were standing beside the altar next to him.

You stretched your back. He shrugged. "We could skip?"

"No, last time you said that I got pregnant." You fought not to smile at your own complaint. "I'm done being pregnant. Maybe if you win tonight, it'll be over."

George rolled his eyes, bending slightly to mockingly rest his cheek against your stomach. "Take your time, little one. Mummy's just being an ass."

You pushed him away from you. "Stop corrupting her! I'm supposed to be the favorite parent!"

He crossed his arms, a smirk playing at his lips. "Oh, I beg to differ."

You pushed past him, grabbing your bag as you left the room. "You're insufferable. You know that?"

"Bite me."

#george mackay imagines #george mackay x reader #george mackay #george #1917 imagines #1917 #young au #oscars #imagines

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dark-and-kawaii · 4 years

Note

Kiwiiii =_= ive been waiting to see if you ever write for any of the kuroko boys again and here we are. As Kiyoshi Senpai would say, let's all have some fun! How would our bad boys feel when their fem s/o asks to do their makeup 🐞

Awh, I’ve honestly missed writing for my basketball babes (^w^)

EHEHE!!! Kiyoshi is right! Let’s all have some fun, yeah??? This request is making me feel so many things since I myself am a makeup artist!!! Thank you so much for sending this in love bug!!!

Yamazaki:

Bless his heart, because this boy is the absolute best.

Kicking open his bedroom door -makeup pallets in hand- your eyes are practically glowing with so much passion as you run towards him. “Yams!!! Look!! Look!!!” Pressing your pallets against his face he already knows the next thing you’re about to say… “I just got some new pallets!!” -twirling around your skirt lifts ever so slightly and our sweet bad boy is smiling with how cute you are with all your excitement.- “I already have makeup on…. ~sooooo could i please use your face as my canvas?!”

Yamazaki will of course say yes. He’s mainly curious to see what you can pull off and he’s never had makeup on before so he’s also curious as to how it feels….

Will sit as still as he possibly can but his nerves kick in and his knee begins to bounce around which isn’t the best for you since you’re trying to do his mascara…

You definitely end up poking him in the eye with mascara since he won’t stop bouncing his knee.. And when you try to reapply it he leans back every time while squinting at you… It’ll take years for him to ever trust such a product again, especially in your hands…

Will sit and make kissy faces at you when you apply the lipstick / cracks jokes about how the team would be gay for him.

When the process is all over and you’ve finished his makeup, Yamazaki can see how sad you look since you were having so much fun with him and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this time with you as well… Picking up one of the pallets you seemed most interested in, Yamazaki will stand from where he was sitting and tell you to sit down. “I want to try doing your makeup, ___.”

Yamazaki will gently wipe off the makeup you had on previously and once its all wiped off he will then attempt to apply makeup to your face….

Just as you did to him… He did to you with the mascara… You and Yamz will never trust one another with mascara ever again.

Hara:

Hara just pops his gum as you sit in front of him silently wide eyed awaiting his reply… He pops another bubble… And you can’t take it anymore. “So!? What’s the answer Hara? Will you let me play with my new makeup with you or not?? It should be at my place by now and i really think it would be fun for us!”

Hara makes an annoyed sound as he pops yet another bubble, “Sure, but only if you give me a blow job after.” You can hardly believe it…. that’s a lie… you can believe he would say something like that…. With disgust written all over your face you get up from your desk and begin to storm out while harshly saying, “FINE! I’ll find someone else!! Someone who doesn’t need or want anything in return except fun memories!”

It takes only 2 minutes before Hara is sitting up from his very own desk going after you. Maybe that was a bit too harsh, you’re always doing for him and unlike his previous girls he wants to keep you around.

Eventually finds you on your front steps holding your new Jeffree Star lipsticks and pallet. Taking one of the lipsticks out of your hand he opens it and applies it best he can before pressing his lips together making a popping noise. Smiling at you he pulls back his bangs from his face and asks you if you can help make him a pretty girl.

Turns out to be a fun night with Hara. Applying makeup to him is easy thanks to his smooth skin and him being patient with you.

Asks if he’s getting anything in returned like sex or a BJ, you just smack him upside the head though.

Hara surprisingly likes the feeling of eyeshadow being applied to his eyes, your brush is extremely soft and the smooth swiping motions on his eyes is quite calming. Will ask you questions about what does what and what the purpose is… It’s not that he cares it’s just he really wants to make up for how he acts at times -lowkey hopes it scores him points with you-.

Once his makeup is complete he will tell you to stay in the bathroom as he goes into your room and raids your panty drawer. No no no. It’s not what you think. Once he’s done doing what he wanted, he will come back to your bathroom and there standing before you is one tall ass basketball player wearing your V-string and sport bra… Popping his gum Hara smirks at you, “Mommy is ready for her punishment daddy ____.”

Hara is cringe.

Seto:

Seto is so chill my god.

At first Seto isn’t the biggest fan of the idea and he does tell you no the first two times you ask. However as you lay on his chest looking up at him with teary eyes begging him to let you apply makeup to him he can’t help but smirk. “Someone’s quite persistent, aren’t they?” Placing his hand atop your head he tousles your hair and says fine, but only if he can sleep through most of it.

Sitting up on his chest you peck his nose and agree to this! Most of the makeup can be applied with his eyes shut and it’ll be easier to apply the eyeshadow! “Thank you Seto! I will even hide that mole of your forehead since you hate it so much!!!” You say with one of the sweetest tones he’s ever heard.

It’s honestly a win win for the both of you. 1st you’re getting to put makeup on your very tough looking boyfriend who is deemed a bad boy in your school. 2nd He loves the feeling of you straddling his chest as you apply the makeup and he’s gotta admit… the powder brush feels pretty damn great.

Once you’re all finished you hand him your glittery mirror and say “BOOM THATS THE POWER OF MAKEUP BABY!!!” His mole is concealed and the pink eyeshadow you applied pops thanks to his darker skin…. His eyes are wide with a bit of concern, he’s heard horror stories of neon shadow staining eyelids…. which guess what… it did…. And the next day he’s going to school with pink eyes and the guys all laugh. However, Seto shrugs it off. It made you happy and that’s what’s important.

Furuhashi:

Staring out his bedroom window you watched as the rain continued to tap against his window. Between the roaring thunder, Furuhashi’s soft voice, and dark sky, you were slowly starting to doze off… Until your elbow was harshly nudged by another. Furuhashi was gazing at you with his iconic dead fish eyes… He had been trying to help you study but he just couldn’t keep you focused long enough, “____, if you don’t want to study why did you ask?”

It’s not like you didn’t want to study, honestly. You were falling behind in your language class and he was the best person to ask… and also the only person he’d be okay with you asking since deep down Furuhashi was a bit possessive… Poking his cheek softly with your sanrio pen you asked in your most angelic voice, “~Ko, could i please apply my makeup to your handsome face? It would help wake me up and change the mood in the room.” Adding the puppy pout you looked so pathetic, it made him want to hurt you…

With a great big sigh, Furuhashi finally caved. He hated makeup being on his face and this wasn’t his first rodeo which is exactly why he always gave you a blank stare and walked away when you asked in the past. His young sister has done this to him in the past and he absolutely hates the way it feels on his face, not only that but it gives him anxiety.

Doesn’t look thrilled 90% of the time you’re applying your makeup on him. Will look curiously at certain products and arch his eyebrow at you as you dip your brush into the odd looking product in your hand. Asks questions and will grab your wrists when he sees a color he isn’t too fond about -reminds him of the time his younger sister did it and it stained-.

Will smile ever so gently at you when you’re turned around reaching for a new product as you ramble on about how it works better than the other brands. Furuhashi actually finds you quite adorable at the moment, he’s amazed you’re so passionate about makeup. And as he turns around to look in the mirror -with you still turned around- he’s even more amazed at just how talented you are at it. It makes him want to continue to protect you so you can accomplish your beauty dreams without any interference, though he’ll never admit that openly to you.

Hanamiya:

Hanamiya has never been so damn annoyed or tired in his entire life, and he’s been through quite the irritating situations before. However as you continue day in and day out asking him… no, scratch that… begging him if you can put makeup on his pasty face his eyes grow more tired and exasperated.

Eventually snaps on you and makes you cry by calling you an annoyance and that you’ve been nothing but a pest the past week. Give it about an hour though, deep down he knows he messed up and with a click of his tongue he’s off to find you.

“Hanamiya! I challenge you to a basketball game!!” With unstable quivering legs, you stood as tall as you can as you throw the basketball at the back of Hanamiya’s head…. Ah yes, this is why he loved you and kept you around, not only were you always pulling dumb stunts around him but you also tried to act as if you weren’t afraid of the consequences. Turning around with a devilish smirk, hanamiya replied to you as he picks up the orange sport ball, “Oh? And what might my little ____ want if she wins?” He knew you didn’t have a chance but this was too much fun seeing you have so much hope just so he could take it away.

“I-If i w-win I get to ap-apply my makeup to you… I- I-” Looking down with sullen eyes your voice became low and Hanamiya could hear the deep dejection in it… “I’m just really nervous because this Salon got ahold of me and asked if i could come in a show them my skills… Th-that they are interested in having me there with them… but i wanted to practice on an actual person… i- This was dumb, gomen’nasai Makoto…”

Before you could even walk away the basketball had made contact with the back of your head this time. Twirling around holding the back of your head you saw that Hanamiya’s eyes were concealed with his jet black hair but his signature grin was fully on display, “Oi oi, who said you could walk away from me? Let’s play.”

It took a solid two hours but you finally managed to beat Hanamiya… Not that you won by pure skills or anything, Hanamiya had let you win.

Applying his makeup actually ends up being more fun than you thought it would be, though there were a lot of times where he was making it difficult for you -surprise-. Hanamiya will “accidentally” knock a brush out of your hands here and there along with blowing the eyeshadow right off your shadow brush. You don’t know what overcame you but in the heat of the moment you decided to just dump your loose glitter all over his head since he wouldn’t stop acting out, and with a booming laugh you hold your stomach as you die from pure joy after seeing his face.

The atmosphere in your bathroom has changed drastically and his presence is menacing… “Ha-Hanamiya… i- I-im so sorry i just.. I thought it wou-”

Grabbing you by your throat Hanamiya pins you against the sink as his mouth gets dangerously close to your ear. You can feel his hot breath as he whispers in your ear, “I think it’s time you learned your place, pet.” You’re frightened and unaware of what to do until you feel loose face powder his your face, “BAAAAKA!” Sticking his tongue out at you Hanamiya proceeds to coat your face with loose powder.

#KNB #kuroko no basket #hanamiya makoto #seto kentaro #furuhashi kojiro #hara kazuya #yamazaki hiroshi #Kirisaki Daiichi #kirisaki dai ichi #kurokos basketball

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captcas · 4 years

Text

Worth Fighting For

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian "Hook" Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma "The Savior" Swan's career was cut short. When Hook's manager moves up and the office brings in UFC's youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

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[Chapter 1/?]

Tap gloves.

It’s not like he dreamed of being here.

Fake right hook.

Beating the shit out of someone is pretty much one of the only things that keeps Killian Jones numb.

Leg kick to left eye.

That and rum.

Elbow.

Does anyone really dream of beating the shit out of people for a living?

Left hook. Opponent stumbles.

Will Scarlett aside, he doesn’t think so.

Take down.

And maybe Jefferson… that bloke’s ring name is literally “Mad”.

Right. Left. Right. Left. Left.

He knows there’s good money in MMA, but when he got in a bar fight two—

Wrestle. Maneuver. Arm bar.

—years ago, he never thought it’d lead to this.

Tap tap tap.

Showtime.

Release a tad too late. Don’t help Graham up, let the trainers do it. Run to the side of the cage. Ramp up the fans. Arm raise.

“Hook, you just won by submission against The Huntsman. How does it feel to remain undefeated in our stacked featherweight division?”

Deep breath. Come on, Jones, put on your act for the camera.

“Issac, did you say stacked? Not gonna lie, mate, I’m not sure that term applies to me.” Well placed smirk.

Why are the lights so damn bright? He hears the crowd chanting his name, he supposes that’s because he’s on a homer card. Still unreal as ever.

“You’re probably right considering you absolutely dominated that entire match. You’re a latecomer to the sport but continue to make a name for yourself, even against much younger opponents. Is there a secret to all this fast success?”

Don’t cringe at the mention of your age; they think you want to be here.

“Aye, but if I told you on national television, it wouldn’t be a secret.” Wink at the camera. Smirk. “ Thanks for coming out, Boston!” The crowd cheers louder. “I may not have started here but I’ve called this city home for ten years now and I’ll be damned if I let you down.”

Hook! Hook! Hook! Hook!

“They love ya, Jones. Great match! Who do you wanna see next?”

“No one”, Killian thinks to himself. “ I want to get out of this bloody octagon and get some rum.” He turns to the exec table.

“I’ll take whoever you give me, Gold, no sweat. I’m going all the way to the championship, Issac. I’m in this to win it all.”

As if there’s another option.

Issac nods enthusiastically at him. Killian is apparently a better actor than he thought. “Great fight, Hook. Well, folks you heard it from the man himself. Killian “Hook” Jones wants the belt—“

Issac’s voice fades away. Killian does his obligatory selfie with his trainers, hugging Robin and heading out of the ring.

High five a fan. Selfie. Smirk at the brunette. Autograph. High five. Kiss the redhead’s knuckles. Fist bump.

Once in the locker room, he can finally breathe. Killian scrambles to shower and change, being sure to dodge Robin and August on his way out the door. He knows he’s supposed to stay for the other matches, but it’s been nine years today and he’s not in the fucking mood.

. . .

“But, Mooooom, it’s Fight Night!”

“Exactly why you’re off to bed. You’re way too young to be watching that live. I’ll show you highlights in the morning.” Emma has this conversation almost every Saturday night. She can’t blame the kid for liking UFC, he was technically conceived because of it, but nine is way too young and she’s not budging on this.

“But it’s a super good card!”

Emma rolls her eyes, “Copying what Uncle David says will get you negative points. Bed. Now. Go.”

Henry opens his mouth to argue again, but with one more look from Emma he thinks better and stomps off to bed. Emma laughs to herself knowing he’ll be out like a light in minutes, but she admires his stubbornness.

Emma finishes cleaning up the kitchen and then wanders in to check on Henry. Just as she suspected, he’s fast asleep with ESPN Magazine splayed across his lap. She shakes her head and smiles at him. Quietly, she moves the magazine, kisses him on the forehead, and shuts off the light, closing the door gently behind her.

Emma leaves Henry’s room to a knock at the door. As if on cue, David and Mary Margaret let themselves into her apartment with pizzas and a case of beer. After setting down the food, David walks up to Emma and kisses her on the temple. “Hey, sis! Henry asleep already?”

She scoffs at his lack of subtlety. “Yes, although it seems he had an accomplice in his attempts to stay awake for tonight.” Emma purses her lips knowingly as Mary Margaret slaps David’s shoulder.

“David! This show is too violent for adults let alone a nine year old .” David shrugs and turns to help his wife with the food.

As Emma gets the TV set up, Ruby shows up, barging in with a bottle of red wine and already talking a mile a minute. “Did you see the second match up?! These two are like the men of my dreams . God bless whoever decided Jones and Humbert should duke it out. I mean honestly, Ems, I may need you to turn up the air conditioning.”

Emma laughs at Ruby being… well Ruby. “Rubes, chill. I’m sure the network is fully aware of the ratings the two of them fighting will bring in.”

Mary Margaret speaks up a little too quickly, “Oh definitely! And both of them are so good, watching them fight sometimes makes me wish you still—“ She trails off at David’s hiss and Emma pretends she doesn’t notice.

“Alright, the first fight is about to start. Let’s do this.”

Despite being unable— maybe that’s not the right term— unwilling?— to fight anymore, Emma loves watching Fight Night.

Whenever she’s watching a fight she feels her body move on its own, mimicking their movements and mentally throwing punches and blocks of her own.

Emma Swan wasn’t good at much of anything, but she was a damn good fighter.

The first match is an overall bore. Going the entire 15 minutes and not even ending in a unanimous decision. Emma grabs another piece of pizza and the bowl of popcorn— thank god they let her keep the fighter rate for her gym membership— and settles in for the second fight.

Ruby is not wrong about these two.

Graham “The Huntsman” Humbert, vs. up and comer, Killian “Hook” Jones. She’s seen Graham around the circuit before, he’s somewhat of a regular face. Never doing much with his career but doing enough not to get kicked from the roster. Killian, she’s only seen fight a few times, but he trains at her gym, supposedly also based out of Boston, so she’s seen him there.

She scoffs to herself. He may have the looks, but he knows it. He approached her once, confidence seeping off of him like sweat:

“Emma ‘The Savior’ Swan.”

Emma whips around at the use of her ring name. Most people at this gym know who she is, but leave her alone to work out and go home. “Yes that’s me.” She looks up at him in hopes of serving him her best ‘get the fuck out of here’ stare, but stutters when she sees how absolutely stunning he is.

“Stunning, Emma? Really?” She thinks to herself, but then realizes there really isn’t another word for the blue of his eyes… or his British accent.

“Killian ‘Hook’ Jones.” He puts out his left hand, catching Emma off guard, most fighters being right handed. As if he could read her mind he continues, “You know, for my killer left hook.” He drops her hand with a wink.

A fucking wink. Who does this guy think he is?

“Clever.” Emma knows she’s being icy but she’s almost done with her workout and really doesn’t have time to put up with some cocky new guy.

“Aye, Gold thought so.” He smirks at her and she rolls her eyes, regretting the satisfaction it gives him immediately.

“I’m sure he did.”

“And why, ‘The Savior’, Swan? I’m not sure I know that back story.” Emma flinches at his bluntness.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She realizes she’s practically flirting before she can stop herself.

He catches her gaze, “Perhaps I would.”

She doesn’t expect such a sincere response.

Brick meet wall. Hello, darkness, my old friend or something like that.

“Huh,” she scoffs noncommittally, “Nice to meet you, Jones, but I’ve gotta get back to my work out.”

He nods, seeming a bit jilted at her lack of interest. She does her best to keep a straight face at that realization, happy to knock anyone that arrogant down a few pegs. “Aye, Swan, me as well. See you around, love.”

She takes a swig from her water bottle and almost chokes at his casual use of the pet name. “ Not your love.” He raises his hands in mock surrender and Emma carries on with her day.

Somehow the same man she was insanely annoyed by, has completely entranced her with his fighting style. It’s clean and polished, definitely trained but with this edge of a street fighter which almost seems almost instinctual.

Leg kick, elbow, left hook, take down, arm bar, submission.

Humbert didn’t have a chance.

Jones makes it look too easy.

Emma is snapped out of whatever spell she was under the moment he opens his mouth to do his interview with Issac, the same cocky asshat she spoke to in the gym now on her TV screen.

“Wait! I didn’t know he fought for Boston.” Ruby rounds on Emma. “Did you ever see him at the gym?!”

Emma shrugs, “A few times.” She refuses to tell M or Ruby about their conversation, both of them likely to twist it into some UFC enemies to lovers story that makes Emma want to barf. Lucky for Emma the next fight starts and with the sound of “Mad” Jefferson Hatter’s entrance music, and the entire room seems to forget all about Killian “Hook” Jones.

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#captain swan #cs ff #cs au #killian jones #emma swan #ufc au #cs ff au #once upon a time #captain hook #ouat #otps #capthamm

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