#surely there’s nothing evil and sad after this

[kaisaerinlover]

tw: mention of abuse

michael kaiser’s birthday, the twelfth to be precise, marked the first time he ever did something for himself. it’s when his life really began, when he finally started the long path of living for himself instead of just to serve as a punching bag for his piece of shit dad. a day when he became more than just a remnant of everything his mother left behind after she abandoned the small family that she began to build.

and now his twenty first birthday marks a new change in his life too. nine years after the fact. christmas means nothing to kaiser, so it means nothing to you too. kaiser doesn’t like getting gifts, they’re worthless to him. he has enough money, and was never taught how to react. but you are a gift within yourself, maybe the first one that he ever received. he knows he doesn’t know to act with you either, the same sadness he feels when he receives a present from somebody washing over him every time he mistreats you, his best gift. you’re the best thing within the possession of his cold hands and even colder heart; he swears he loves you. he loves you so much, you are everything and nothing all at once, he just can’t help himself.

he never gives himself a rest; after all, holidays are worthless to him. he doesn’t do christmas festivities, maybe he’ll take you to one of the many christmas markets berlin has to offer to get yourself some nice things, a sweet outing. a weak and cowardly apology for all the bad he does to you. he’s a fucking coward, he knows it. he can’t cover your bruises and cracks with cold hard cash forever, but you won’t care, you love him too. that’s the only festivity he doesn’t refuse to participate in. no rest and no breaks - he only has time for practice on christmas.

training in the empty club facility when everyone else is at home with their families, their wives, parents, hell some of his teammates have began building families already. he could never do that though, kaiser is a vindictive man; don’t let any of these words fool you into believing he is anything but evil and manipulative. kaiser knows himself what type of person he is. he knows he’s scum of the earth, but for the most part he simply doesn’t care. one of the very small amount of considerate things he has done is decide to not have children. he doesn’t want to hurt his own child someday, doesn’t want to have you pack up and leave just like his mother. doesn’t want to subject anyone to the torment he grew up with all those years ago. he only thinks he can’t fix all of the bad caused by his brutish nature to you with cash because even after almost a decade of being away from the shithead he’s forced to call his father, he still isn’t fully healed. hell, that’s why he takes it out on you so much. he kicks the ball extra hard at the thought of that. he’s a real piece of work, and if he wasn’t so selfish, he would leave you. it’s best for you anyway.

on the walk home in the snow he ponders hard. he didn’t want kids, so why did he allow himself a girlfriend. kaiser is a selfish man, he’s a really fucking disgusting person (don’t doubt it, seriously) so why is he indulging himself with you? he’s not quite sure himself, he also refuses to acknowledge the warmth that grew and expanded since he met you and passed time with you. he didn’t drive today, the streets are cold and quiet and he likes the alone time. the winter is cold and lonely, a fitting sentiment for him. solitude matches him the best, which again leads to the question, why does he indulge himself in you so much? he’s trudging through the snow on the path, fresh snow. pure white and innocent snow. it reminds him of you. you’re so sweet, pliable, innocent. everything he isn’t. every crunch he hears from under his boots, every piece of dirt he imagines he’s leaving in his trail; it reminds him of you. how he’s so scared to corrupt you. but he only thinks of the negatives and never the positives. stupid micha, doesn’t he realise the snow is still falling? fresh snow covering his tracks, covering the dirt and cleansing all of the bad - of course he doesn’t think of that, this man is so in his head!

stepping into the warmth of his lavish house is liberating. a stark contrast from the cold nonstop nipping at his nose. the man is white as the snow outside, his face probably looks ridiculously red. he lazily kicks off his boots and unzips his coat and tosses it across one of the stools for the kitchen island; you’ll clean it up anyway, you always do.

he glances at your empty cup on the island. it’s cute and pink, like you. you’re so sweet. but he’s a little disheartened, you’re probably asleep already. he glances at the grandiose clock you insisted you had to buy for the kitchen which sits on the wall above a picture of you two sitting next to each other. it’s 11pm, he didn’t realise it was so late. no wonder he’s so worn out. he lazily crosses off the 24th before he trudges upstairs and goes to bed. he smiled a bit when he did, you decorated the 25th with such cute stickers and a big pink heart drawn around it. you’d never forget his birthday, even if he wanted you to oh so desperately. sweet angel that you are.

he strips and flops into bed next to you, feeling your warmth and gentle breathing is enough to lull him to sleep instantaneously. he’ll shower in the morning, he can’t be fucking bothered right now; cut him some slack too, it’s his birthday!

as soon as you hear him snore you jolt up. michael kaiser you will not escape your birthday, you promise him that in your head. missing christmas is a crime in itself that maybe you can let slide (well not really, he always indulges you and lets you put up a few decorations around the house. but you digress.)

you work yourself tirelessly putting up birthday decorations and getting the food you had baked by a pretty expensive baker a few days ago for him, and you also baked him a cake yourself. you’re surprised he didn’t notice the white boxes in the fridge, but honestly christmas season is when he stresses himself out the most with soccer; so it doesn’t surprise you the more you think about it. he must be really tired ‘cause you almost fell down trying to hang up the big ribbon banner at least five times and not once was he awoken by the nuances of the night caused by your sub par decorating abilities.

kaiser is awoken suddenly, and he jolts up confused and (embarrassingly) a bit frightened. but he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your big eyes in front of his face blinking. he’d be a bit alarmed if it was anyone else but you’ve always been a bit of an odd one, so he just brings his hand up to lightly pet your cheek as he yawns. “morning engel, why are you all up in my face, it’s too early” his voice is really hot after he’s just woken up, you observe. “micha, it’s your birthday” you say in an oh so monotone voice. he knows it’s his birthday, so why are you telling him this?

his question is answered when you throw yourself on the bed out of his face in exhaustion and he sees what you’ve done to your shared room. balloons and a nice happy birthday banner across the wall directly infront of your bed, ribbons everywhere, sweetly wrapped gift boxes and a bowl of his favourite garlic bread rust sitting next to a birthday cake and cupcakes. he’s actually in awe, like, really. he doesn’t know how to react at all. he just looks at your form flopped down on the bed in exhaustion and feels even worse seeing the bruises he’s left on you before, feels even more guilty for all the harsh obscenities he’s shouted at you more times than any normal person would like to admit. he swallows the build up of saliva caught in his mouth he didn’t even realise was there.

“das alles ist für mich...? du hast das getan...?” he swallows again. his throat is so dry, his voice shakes a little. he really can’t believe it. he is showered in love every day by adoring fans and the whole nation of germany. the whole world for that matter, he’s one of the best players of today. he’s a prodigy, a gem, a talent and everything else synonymous to this. yet all the love and adoration thrown at him by all of these people cannot even compare even by a tiny fraction to your love. your adoration. the way you cherish him. he’s so blessed, he never believed in gods before, he believes in the impossible but not those types of things. he’s not a follower he’s a leader, he is the only god. but jesus fucking christ, god has to be real. you must be one of his angels, he swears it. you’re way too fucking good to be true.

you prop yourself up on your elbows to answer him, “ja, who else?” and kaiser’s eyes seriously water, he’s not even the emotional type, but he’s a bit moved. he also tries to uphold that stoic front of his, but man, he’s just so affected by this. in a good way; at least he thinks it’s good. he just can’t hold it anymore and shifts to pin you down to the bed and kiss your face all over. he feels even more bad about the black eye he gave you too. you’re too good for him, you really are. he feels his heart clench a bit; an unknown sensation. he loves you so much, he really does, and he knows he’s so disgusting sometimes and he doesn’t show it, but he promises he does. he shoves his tongue down your throat and grips your wrists so tight they could shatter, but he doesn’t care. he’s so fucking in love with you, you’re so fucking sweet. you’re panting for air and you’re seriously in pain from his rough display of love, but when are you not hurt by this man? you are light and he is dark, you are an angel and he’s the sin of man embodied. you are every single good thing in this universe and he is the complete opposite. you both acknowledge this, and usually he relishes in the dynamic. but he feels so guilty. you’re as sweet as sugar. he’s kissing you so hungrily; as if he wants to eat you.

when he finally pulls away, he’s hovering over you. his hair is so beautiful, he’s so beautiful like this. you have to blow a piece of his hair out of your eye, and he laughs. you’re priceless, you really are. you’re so cute. so special. you’re everything. holidays and birthdays were always foreign to him. he doesn’t care for them at all - or didn’t. he does now, he really fucking does. love does that to you. he’s so glad he took the risk, took a risk of dating you, found someone so angelic. so perfect for him. he can’t help but think about what his 12 year old self would think of this. if he would have even believed he would have someone so loving and compliant by his side ever in his life. believed that he was anything other than a worthless piece of shit.

all the years of pain and longing for a love which he believed could never be bestowed upon a man of his caricature paid off. all the time he (begrudgingly) yearned for love. for a partner. a princess to call his own. the lonely emperor who wanted nothing more than to be treated as if he was someone special and meant something. he’s so emotional, very rare for him. he’s so emotional seeing how much he means to you. how much you’re willing to do. and for the first time in his life, he feels joy on his birthday. “prinzessin, i love you” he leans down to whisper in your ear. and you giggle and kick your legs as much as you can beneath him like a giddy schoolgirl. “love you too micha, you deserve the world”

he doesn’t know how you do it, how you can act like this despite the way he treats you. he knows he’s a manipulative asshole, but he never took the time to care about anything other than himself and maybe you. but now he almost feels sorry. almost feels like his heart could open up into a black hole and swallow him up for doing this to someone so sweet. but he told you before, if you didn’t like this you could just leave (he’d never let that). you also told yourself something, you would fix this man. you’re an empath. a pure soul full of compassion. you’re as broken as he is. maybe that’s why you stayed, why you grew to like the toxicity, why you believed you could fix him. and it’s paying off.

you did get up eventually, to sit on the floor and open the gifts he got from yours truly. you’re in pink panties a pink bra and his jersey, currently getting frosting all over it from a slice of cake he cut for you. isn’t it funny, this jersey would go for thousands on the internet, so many fangirls would kill to be wearing this. and you’re messing it all up. his piece is sitting next to him as he holds a particularly sentimental gift from you in his hands and stares down at it. he doesn’t know how to react. he never did know how to react to gifts. but he wishes you knew how grateful he is for you. so grateful that you stay through all of this.

you do know, you really do.

hours later and his pure unbridled joy is yet to die down. you’re spoon feeding him cake as you’re both sat on the floor laughing. the pains that his birthday brought him are forgotten for now, as are the injuries he inflicted upon you. the holes in the wall he leaves when he’s angry are covered with decorations. the small specks of blood adorning the floor from a particularly nasty nosebleed you had caused by his fist are hidden by the wrapping paper from all of the thoughtful gifts you bought for him. his tattooed hand is on the floor ontop of your smaller one. the crown covering your own. his princess.

michael kaiser was born on christmas, he was a gift his parents neglected. weren’t grateful for. a gift to his parents that they didn’t even realise. a gift to the soccer world. a gift for you. special gift for you. the best gift you could ever receive. so you’ll treat him like that, despite the violence. you are so empathetic to him. so sweet. kaiser deserves the world he really does.

and as he watches you giggle as you feed him cake and eat spoonfuls for yourself too, he realises you’re a gift too. you’re not born on any particularly noticeable holiday the way he is. but your birthday is the biggest celebration in itself. he’s so thankful to whatever god decided to grace the world with your presence and then send you in his direction. his eyes are so soft for once and he wears a small smile. let’s forget about all of the violence and anger, all of the sadness, the shattered and messily glued back pieces of the little boy he truly is for once. let’s just have fun.

he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear as he looks into your eyes so deeply. “you are the best gift i could ever ask for, mein schatz”

[transformersoneiq]

What’s your favorite character in the movie that wasn’t you? (And no D-16 and Orion, you aren’t allowed to say each other’s characters. Same for Starscream and B-127. And Soundwave and Shockwave. Geez, there’s a lot of couples in this cast.)

D-16: Too bad, I'm picking Orion anyways.

Orion: And I'm picking D-16 anyways. Too bad, so sad, nothing you can do about it.

Elita: Immature idiots... I'd say Airachnid. Freaky evil spider femme...

B-127: As much as I love Starscream, Elita is my favorite! :D

Starscream: I can't choose B-127, huh..? Fine. I'll pick Soundwave, I guess... but I'm not happy about it!

Soundwave: B-127! Silly little guy...

Shockwave just shrugs

Sentinel: D-16, funnily enough. My character gets a well deserved beating from his character, after all.

Airachnid: Elita maybe? Or Orion... not 100% sure.

Darkwing: No one.

Alpha Trion: Orion!

Prima: Orion.

Megatronus: D-16.

The rest of the primes are too busy arguing over their favorite characters to even respond.

[softskiesahead]

12 days of lukeyaya day 6

little lukeyaya grabbing some skates and trudging out to ice skate... their jackets r big and puffy and they're a little wobbly and awkward but it's fun..... their little ears pink and their noses runny. mittened hands grasping each other tightly to try to keep balance, pulling the other down when they slip.

and adult lukeyaya stepping back out one winter... they're bigger and maybe one of them is better at skating now, but they still grasp onto each other's hands like a lifeline. scarf piled up around their faces so they can nuzzle their cold noses against them... leaning in close to nose at the other person's scarf to try to get a kiss..... luke would grin boyishly if Yaya wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on close... they'd fall together still but at least they're together now after so long

oh i want to go ice skating so bad…….

they’d be so so so cute. it would take a long time for little yaya to feel confident on the ice…she clings to the wall and sticks to the sides of the rink for a long time. little luke tries to convince her to come further out while holding his hand but she’s so worried that she’ll slip and bring him with her - which turns out to be valid concern because that is exactly what happens when he finally convinces her. they both tumble across the ice and little yaya is so so worried and sad trying to help him back up but luke just laughs and seeing that, little yaya laughs along with him. despite their fall luke keeps trying to convince her to hold his hand on the ice….for…..safety, you know?

as an adult, yaya loves skating but is still pretty clumsy with it. however, luke being so athletic takes to it impressively well. yaya thinks she wouldn’t mind just watching him skate around the ice because he does it so gracefully. (but of course he insists she come onto the ice with him and they are that one disgustingly cute couple practically holding each other on the rink)

[usercelestial]

it sucks that shitty fans have made it impossible to celebrate canon queer relationships that they don't like and seem to have an influence on which ones get attention on social media. it sucks that it seems like no matter how much tim says he ignores fandom, it stills get to him. it sucks that oliver refuses to stand up for his costars when they're being harassed. it sucks that antis feel like they have the power to ruin good things for other people because they don't gain anything from it. it sucks that we all already knew this would happen because this show never changes no matter what network it's on.

[the-kipsabian]

i have no idea how im gonna survive tomorrow

help

[cheer-nympho]

The older kids all have wills.

Nancy, Robin, Steve and Jonathan, ages 18 to 21, all have wills tucked away in various boxes under beds and behind wardrobes.

Their similarities only extending to the fear felt when writing them, mixed with resigned acceptance. A common feeling of “Man, it sure is sad that my late teenage years are spent contemplating the very real possibility of gruesome early death, I should be at the club.”

But in every other aspect they are completely different.

Nancy’s was written on a cream notepad with dainty flowers surrounding the border. Written from a view of logic and forward planning, a need to protect her family. All of the demands straight to the point, no nonsense.

Warped only by the small tear stains across the bottom.

Robin’s was clearly written in a panic, barely legible handwriting on a ripped off lined sheet.

Written after she read an article about a man whose boyfriend was refused access to him after his death because there was no will.

She refused to leave anyone in the dark like that.

Jonathan’s was the most emotional, surprisingly. But most of that emotion was palpable anger, the word “nothing” pressed so hard into the yellow paper next to Lonnies name it had almost ripped the page.

Even if it was the last thing he did, Jon would keep Lonnie away from them.

Steves was written begrudgingly, more out of a need to prevent his parents from tossing it all. They weren’t around to know about Robin or the kids, wouldn’t know he’d promised Lucas the car or Max his records.

They weren’t evil people, they just didn’t know. This way they would.

They hadn’t spoken about it in advance, hadn’t co-ordinated it or hidden them together like a morbid friendship pact. They had all just at some point come to the realisation that, given their current lives, it may one day be necessary.

Eddie had not had that thought.

Eddie Munson had many thoughts.

He had thoughts on the disease of pop music sweeping the last worthwhile radio station, he had thoughts on the price increases in his favourite gaming store in Indy, he had thoughts on selling enough stock to buy a new trailer gas canister.

What he very rarely had thoughts on was death.

It took a lot for him to say that these days, considering where he’d been not too many years ago. But these days the only thoughts on death he had were more abstract and fleeting, nothing more than the average schmuck.

And even if the thought would have crossed his mind, he would have shrugged it off with a ‘Wayne knows what to do.’

He had no other family and, as far as Eddie was concerned, nothing particularly valuable to single out to anyone. He may need one of the guys to burn the shoebox hidden under his bed, but that could be a more verbal agreement between bros.

So Eddie didn’t have a will.

Didn’t have a plan, didn’t have the worry.

And it’s not until he’s lying on his back, being cradled by a child that frankly should not have to see the insides of Eddies stomach, that he remembers that.

It rushes to him in a panic, the thoughts feeling slow and syrupy but in reality only taking a split second.

He needed to write a will.

He needed Wayne to know that Eddie /wanted/ him to have everything, not just given it by family rights.

He needed to write Dustin in, and Corroded Coffin, maybe even some random shit for all the other nerds.

A donation to Hawkins Church to really confuse them, not that Eddie would be leaving any money behind. Maybe they could have his guitar.

When he got back he would write it up on the finest non-scrunched up paper he could find.

When he got back he would take care of it all.

But that was a job for later Eddie, right now he really needed to sleep.

He could see Dustin crying above him but that was okay, he’d take care of it when he woke up.

When he wakes up he’ll take care of it all.

When he wakes up he’ll write his will.

When he wakes up.

[olomaya]

Snowflake Day Tree + Activities

I actually started to make this two years ago and forgot about it but then I got the idea to do it again and remembered that I had already written most of the code. It was sort of like finding money in your pocket you'd forgotten about. 😂

Much like in real life, I prefer to spend my holidays in-game with family instead of randoms and I just want to open presents without having to throw a Gift Giving party. So I made a Christmas Snowflake Day tree to do that where you can decorate and add gifts to open on Snowflake Day.

I also added some holiday activities for kids and toddlers if you have the More Activities Activity Table. It's an add-on so you need that mod (and whatever requirements go with it) if you don't already.

Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

More info after the cut and Updates here

Decorate the Tree (this is meant as a joinable group activity so you can invite others to join; up to 4 Sims (child+) can decorate) 

Add Tree Topper (if you have any)

Hang Ornaments (if you have any)

Turn On/Off Lights (if decorated)

Admire Ornaments (sims may get a nice holiday moodlet - Holiday Memories buff)

Add Gift for…

Look at Presents (get information on how many gifts are under the tree and to whom)

Steal Presents (only for Klepto, rebellious, Evil, Mean-spirited; you will get in trouble if someone sees)

Sneak a Peek at Presents - to check out any of your gifts

Invite Everyone to Open Presents - for Snowflake Day, brings everyone on the lot to open gifts under the tree; if someone doesn’t have gifts, they will watch others open presents and if they are in the household they will get a sad buff. Gifts improve relationship score if Sims like it; does nothing if they don’t but if they get too many gifts they don’t like, they can complain about it.

Open Gifts - self explanatory. If you don’t want to gather everyone together, you can open gifts at any time on Snowflake Day. Depending on how many gifts you like/don't like, you will get a special moonlet (Feeling Grateful/Bummer Holiday)

Take Down Decorations

Put Away Tree

Sims can also:

Ask for holiday presents…Toy | Book | Vehicle | Computer | Electronics | Jewelry | Decor | Hobby Object | Sports Object

This is a one-time interaction that Sims can use on any family or household member. If a sim gets what they asked for, they will get a special buff (Just What I Wanted)

Thank for Presents (if they had a particularly good Snowflake Day)

Complain about Presents (if they had a bad one)

With the MAAT add-on, children and toddlers can also:

Make handmade ornaments and hang them on the tree. The ornaments can be stored in the decorations box.

Make handmade Snowflake Day cards for friends and family (kids only). You can give them directly to Sims or put them under the tree as a gift.

Notes and Recommendations:

To be able to utilize all the tree features, make sure there is enough space around the entire tree for Sims to gather and interact with the tree

Your Sims need to have a giftable object in their personal or household inventory to add a present to the tree

When a Sim has asked for a gift, the game checks whether any of the gifts they receive are in the same buy subcategory or object type as what they asked for so if, as example, a kid asks for a toy and you get them a cc toy that is categorized as a plant or deco object in the game, it’s not going to count. 

To gift jewelry, you need the TS3 Store Jewelry Machine or any custom wearable jewelry objects that is the same object type as the Store Jewelry box object

If you don't have my activities table mod and don't want it, then don't download the two MAAT files.

Requires Generations, Showtime (actually I don't think you need Showtime. I think I wanted to use something from it but then didn't but I'm sure one of you will confirm for me 😭) and Seasons

Details and Instructions:

The tree and box can be purchased in the Entertainment/Hobbies Section (300 and 200, respectively), the tree topper in the Misc Deco (90) or they can all be found in the custom Snowflake Day collection file.

To decorate the tree, your Sim needs both the tree object and the decorations box. Custom ornaments and tree toppers go into the decorations box.

The tree comes with a default decoration but you can create and add your own tree decorations. The file has an XML (HolidayTreeDecorations) where you can add the Resource Key, Group ID for the OBJD of the decoration, whatever name you want to call it, whether you want it to light up or not, and the image (if you don’t want a custom image, just use the default one in my first entry).

Credits: Meshes by EA, tree deco is from Coral Island (I hope Stairway Games doesn't come for me!!) and the ornaments are by me and Freepik. Images are EA and Flaticons. Animations by EA and me.

Download here

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!

☒ Word Count: 2,672

You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 

Your mind lamented with turmoil. 

Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 

This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.

You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  

And when you danced, it was effortless.

But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 

Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 

No matter how hard he tried.

And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 

There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.

Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.

What could he do to make you remember him?

It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 

Love is patient but waits for no one. 

Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 

Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 

"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"

Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 

Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 

Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 

Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.

Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.

"A photo or... an heirloom?"

Husker, you mindless genius.

Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 

And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.

The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 

It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.

Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 

Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 

Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 

Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 

Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 

Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 

Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 

Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 

Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.

"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."

Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 

"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.

Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 

"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 

"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 

"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.

Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 

You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 

"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."

Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.

You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.

It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 

You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 

The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.

Oh... you were crying? 

Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 

The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.

You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 

Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 

In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 

The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 

Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 

"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.

"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 

It was because Alastor was your home.

"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.

"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."

A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.

He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 

You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 

Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.

"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 

"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"

yall want smut for the next part or..............

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @kurinhimenezu @memospacexx @night-shadowblood-writes2 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @uhhhimbored @chaotic-smol @shoyosdoll @alitaar @resident-cryptid @nijiru @sunshinesetsstuff @toby33b @th3casscad3

[reidrum]

carry the weight of you | s.r

A/N: i had this posted on an old blog but here's this, idk if i like it but it's also one of my first fics so if lemme know if you have thoughts <3

cw: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, reader is sad, depression ?, spencer is a cutie who just wants to love, can be read as gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

_______________________________________________

it was supposed to be a routine case. well, not a routine case. those don’t really exist in the bau, but one that had a clear MO and decent enough leads that garcia could easily use to find the unsub. it wasn’t even a case that was especially creepy in nature, lord knows those give the whole bureau nightmares for days.

so why did you feel this way?

you were relatively new to the team—having one year under your belt to your near decades experienced colleagues. but you had rightfully earned your spot in the bau, and you deserved to be there.

but right now you had no energy to believe that. the ache in your chest was ever present from your younger days, courtesy of the circumstances from your upbringing, and you should’ve expected that joining the fbi would’ve only made it heavier. you bared it nonetheless because that’s what you were taught to do. you felt beaten down by the last few days, and just couldn’t wait to get back home and crawl into your bed.

the team had wrapped up the case, and you all were on the jet flying back home to the district. sat next to the ever observant dr. reid, he noticed your glazed eyes and distant aura exuding from you.

“you okay?” he bumps your shoulder bringing you out of your trance.

“i’m fine, don’t worry about me.” you replied curtly and tried to fold into the crevice between the seat and the walls of the plane.

“bold of you to lie to a profiler while on a plane full of profiles,” he chuckled lightly, “seriously, you look troubled. are you sure you don’t wanna play honesty hour right now?”

“spence, i’m okay, I promise.” you tried your best at a genuine smile that was as see through as a windexed window. he returned it with his own thin lipped smile and left you be. 

were you okay? you don’t even know how long you’ve felt like this. small, insignificant, nothing. you do great work at your job, tarnishing evil and saving lives. but you can’t help but find it ironic that it’s your own mind working against you that seems to be your demise. 

the jet landed around midnight and the team shuffled through the bullpen to gather their belongings before going home. everyone offered their goodbyes and goodnights and spencer was waiting for you by the door. you both lived in the same apartment building, only because when you first moved to quantico you had no one and knew no one. spencer took it upon himself to help you out, being the newest young rookie on the team, a position he was all too familiar with. his next door neighbor had moved out for an immediate job offer and was looking for a subletter and lo and behold, spencer had become your best friend.

in the few months that you were getting accustomed to the area spencer invited you over for nightly chess games and doctor who marathons. morgan always teased the two of you saying you should be going out on the town having fun only young people can have, and spencer would blush and stammer something out but you would have the brightest smile and look at him saying they were the most fun you’ve had.

so he was surprised to say the least when those nights started to become far and few. you would politely decline and spencer would assume you’d finally listened to morgan and got better plans. but he could hear the patter of your footsteps and the occasional expletive from when you’d hit a table corner and wondered what he did to make you recluse yourself again.

spencer was a profiler after all, mix that with being your closest friend and he could pinpoint the moments you started to change. you’d started making less jokes, even during moments where the team would pause and wait for a little quip from you but hear nothing. you were harder to gain attention from, usually needing three or four calls to get you to even look up. and he just saw you distancing yourself, almost like you didn’t want anyone to perceive you.

spencer loved you. he wouldn’t say it out loud or admit to anyone but point blank he loved you. he felt understood in a way that no one else made him feel. you were kind, smart, funny, and the empathy you held for others was enough to make him tear up. you were there for him when maeve died, letting him cry on your shoulder, and as fucked up as it sounds he realized he loved you in those moments leaking tears onto the stomach of your sweater.

so here stood spencer in front of your desk, “you heading home?” you nodded, “mind if i ride with you? i don’t feel like taking the metro this late.”

“okay, let’s go.”

the walk to your car was silent, and somehow the ride back to your apartment complex was even more silent. walking up the stairs to your apartment doors, you turn the key and step in when spencer goes, “hey actually i think i left my book at your place do you mind if i just look for it really quick?”

you stared at him blankly. you just wanted to be alone and he wants to get his book now? unbeknownst to you spencer was desperate to get to the bottom of your melancholia, and needed any in he could find right now to get there.

nonetheless you nodded your head and left the door open behind you so he could walk in. you dropped your bags and shoes at the front door and trudged through your apartment to your kitchen to put tea on the kettle. you softly called out to him, “do you want a cup of tea?”

“i’d love a cup.” he says sitting on your couch.

you’re fussing around the kitchen getting two mugs out— one doctor who and one snoopy mug. you fill the doctor who one up and add a lemon slice and turn around grabbing your snoopy mug. when you turn back towards the kettle you hit the corner of the island table and watch as your favorite mug drops and shatters into millions of pieces.

when they say a straw is what breaks the camel’s back you fully understand what they mean now because how are you about to lose all your shit over a snoopy mug. you don’t even make an effort to move, just staring at the broken pieces on the floor, trying to make sense of them like a kid pointing out cloud shapes. it’s like you can see the pieces molding into the demons that keep you up at night, the thoughts of uselessness and lethargy personifying in front of you.

spencer has to call your name three times before you finally move your eyes to meet his. you can see his lips moving but you can’t hear him, his hands are out as if he’s telling you to stay put oh wait he is. you wait as he finds your dustpan and broom and brushes up the remains into the trashcan. he slowly approaches you and maneuvers you towards the living room where you sit still glossy eyed and trembling.

he sits down next to you and places a hand on your bouncing knee to soothe it, “why won’t you talk to me?”

you shake your head, “it’s nothing spence, it’s not a big deal i can buy a new mug.” push it down.

“not that, something’s not right. and i want to help. will you let me help you?”

you feel the tears making their way up your face to make their grand exit, and you hold on to last bit of resolve you can as you shakily breathe, “i-, i can’t, it’s stupid and we see so much worse stuff so i have to keep it together and i am but today was just-“ you abruptly got up to get water from the kitchen before finishing your sentence. grabbing a glass from the cupboard, filling it up at the sink, and gulping it down with shaky hands. you set the glass down and placed your hands on the cool counter in an attempt to tether yourself to some string of reality that was left. you couldn’t burden him. you wouldn’t.

spencer gives you a minute alone before rising from the couch and walking into the kitchen. he approaches you slowly from behind, mirroring his hands on top of yours, entrapping you in his warm embrace. “i think you’re carrying so much,” he whispers gently in your ear, “you don’t have to do it by yourself. it’s okay to not be okay.”

the tears win and start streaming down your face silently. spencer continues, “what we do, it’s hard. we all have ways of not letting it get to us. rossi and his cigars, hotch and jack, garcia and her tchotchkes, i mean even emily with her sin city weekends.” you let out a wet laugh in response.

spencer doubles down and intertwines his fingers with yours, “my point is, you are not alone. i am here. let me carry some of it for you, please.”

letting out a soft sob you twist in his arms and burrow yourself into his sweatered chest. this was a new feeling for you, letting someone in to see the horrors that you worked so hard to suppress. why would anyone want to brave that journey? surely you weren’t worth the effort.

but as spencer tightened his arms around you, rubbing his hands soothingly down your back and placing a kiss at the crown of your head, you felt that even if the walls of your resolve came crumbling down that spencer would be there to catch as much as he could. and that was enough.

“thank you,” you mumbled tearily incoherent.

“i will always be here for you, no need to thank me sweetheart.”

his kindness overwhelmed you. how could someone who sees so much darkness and been through so much still hold the level of kindness he does?

you lifted your head slightly as his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, “so, what do you have?”

he hummed quizzically in response. you continued, “you said everyone has ways of getting through it, what’s yours?”

“it’s you,” spencer softly says with the most tender loving look in his eyes, smoothing your hair back as he looks down at you in his arms, “it’s always been you.”

your eyes welled up even more and squeezed him tighter if it were even possible. spencer had you. and now you had spencer.

the next day you show up to work, a snoopy mug with a gift bow sits on your desk. 

[temiizpalace]

☆┊MONOPOLY? MONOPOLY.

SUMMARY: monopoly. the game infamous for destroying friendships and relationships. it wouldn’t hurt to play a game or two, right? how do your acquaintances suffer during the game?

CHARACTERS: all dorms (+grim)

GENRE: fluff, crackfic

WARNINGS: cursing

PLATONIC or ROMANTIC, PLATONIC ORTHO + GRIM

NOTES: my sister punched me in the stomach cause i bought her property

reader gender is not specified, reader is yuu

SPENT THE ENTIRETY OF THE GAME IN JAIL

no matter what they did, no matter how many times they wished to try, they always landed in jail. even when he’s finally free after seven knows many turns, he’ll pick up a card, and it says go to jail. jeez, what did he do?! this game sucks, i don’t see the appeal. is he so much of a bad guy the game wants to keep him locked up forever? its hurting his feelings. why do you want to keep playing?? can he just quit? he doesn’t wanna play anymore. fine. he’ll keep playing. just make sure you win or else you’ll get an earful..

spoiler alert: you lose and now he’s disappointed

riddle, deuce, jack, malleus, silver

LAUGHS LIKE AN EVIL VILLAIN WHEN SOMEONE LANDS ON THEIR PROPERTY

oh dear, how poor and unfortunate are you? such a shame really. oh well! fork over the cash, prefect! it’s nothing personal, just a simple game of monopoly. you can spare a couple hundreds, couldn’t you? surely you weren’t planning on winning, right? all is fair in love and war they say! he’ll make it up to you later, but it’s just better to pay— what’s that? no money? BANKRUPT? how sad. you snooze ya lose. better luck next time, you were no match to begin with. he’ll take what’s left, thanks! much appreciated 🫶🫶

he’s just competitive he’s sorry please don’t hit him with the board please— NONO WAIT—

ace, ruggie, azul, jade, jamil, epel, idia, lilia, grim

IS HOARDING ALL THE LITTLE HOUSES

they’re so cute! not very detailed, but he can make a nice village out of them! oh. you need them for the game? can’t you use.. something else? please let him keep them. if you want them back you’ll have to pry them from his cold dead hands. here, use these thumbtacks! they basically look like houses! why’s he so attached to the tiny plastic primary colored houses from this game? unsure, but he likes em. hands off <3

if you play on the floor watch your step

deuce, cater, floyd, kalim, rook, sebek, grim

USING THEIR WAD OF MONOPOLY MONEY AS A FAN

at first, this game seemed.. childish. however, who is he to say no to victory? just look at all the currency he holds in the palm of his hand, practically basking in wealth. tsk, tsk, wipe that pouty face off of your face prefect. he’s just playing the game after all. not his fault you can’t save your money. my, my, it’s getting hot! excuse him as he fans himself off with his hundred dollar bills. he would share if he can, but it looks like his hands are full. needless to say, he is suffering from success over here.

ace, cater, leona, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, jamil, vil, epel, idia, ortho, lilia, grim (they all on my list. better watch themself)

BRINGS UP PERSONAL SHIT DURING AN ARGUMENT OVER PROPERTY

will bring up moments from each others past mid-argument cause they’re just petty like that. don’t look at him like that! not his fault you decided to ramble about your middle school days— HEY. DONT YOU DARE BRING UP HIS BABY PHOTOS. NO. NOT THE PHOTO. NONONONONONONONONO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

pieces are in fact flung to the ground

ace, leona, azul, epel, sebek, grim

ABOUT TO FLIP THE BOARD

barely holding it together. he is this close to just grabbing the board and throwing it to the ground. he wants to tear up the currency and toss it down the paper shredder while screaming his lungs out. this game is absolutely SHIT. don’t ever bring it in his sights again, he will lose it.

riddle, jamil (depends), epel, sebek, grim

TRYING TO PLAY NORMALLY

it’s just a game guys, relax. sure, it’s not ideal, but let’s not try stabbing each other over a simple game of dice and money? seriously, it’s not that deep. as long as you’re playing together, he’s having a fun time. that’s all that really matters to him in the end! you’re having fun, he’s having fun, it’s a win-win. while chaos ensues, he’s pretty good at being levelheaded and the voice of reason so hopefully it doesn’t blow up in his face.

trey, jack, silver

A/N: monopoly almost got my cousin divorced fun game 10/10 would play again. so many fics in the draft hopefully they come out soon 🧌🧌🧌

date published: 8/20/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[hereforthehitsbaby]

I'm Not Interested | Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Synopsis: Being a handmaiden meant you lived to serve, to make sure you were keeping the young queen safe. But when a certain golden fellow makes his way in from the South, he cannot help but to become infatuated with your aura. So many stories you have heard about the Prince of Dorne, how uninterested it made you. But would he be able to woo you?

Warnings: Language, Angst, M/F Sexual Situations, The Hatred the Reader Has For Oberyn is A S T R O N O M I C A L, Reader has the last name of Flowers since they are a bastard from The Reach,

Rating: M

Word Count: 7.3K

What is it with those who we cannot have that make life most difficult? Was it the fact that every time you lay your eyes upon them, you knew you cannot be with them? Or was it the fact that you have convinced yourself you should not care for this person, should not be with them, because they will not feel the same way? The constant back and forth can be very tiresome; What was the point of harboring such emotions if they could not be acted upon? Why must life be so damn complicated? Why must two different social classes not interact even though they can bring the greatest of pleasures and happiness? The gods from above were out to get us all, to make sure we cannot act upon such feelings in order to restore balance, power, and integrity within the seven kingdoms. But what would they think about those who did not harbor such feelings for the irresistible? The greatest challenge they would ever have to face, started with you.

Urges were something you had never given into, no matter how bad you needed to. You never really saw the necessity in pining after them if all they could bring would be heartache, fear and anger. It had to do with your upbringing, you attributed it to. Fearing the worst of all situations forced you to become cautious in your day to day - why live in multiple strides when you could comfortably follow one linear path? There would be no disruptions, you could predict everyday and know it would/could play out the same way. After all, was what fun about surprises? Knowing what to expect everyday had a better feel; You go to work, do your tasks and go home - simple enough at the end of the day. No big occurrences that could knock you off track, no distractions that could cause you to be beheaded - everything worked out perfectly in hindsight. What more out of life could you possible have asked for? Why did he need to be brought into the picture? Why was the world out to get you?

Growing up was not simple for you; Then again, neither was life. Westeros was suppose to be the land of opportunity, the country of new allegiances and fresh life - it was not suppose to be the end all, be all. Surely you didn't pick up on the evil and the carnage until you were much older, but growing up in Honeyholt was your solace - your home away from home. Though you had only spent a short amount of time there, it was nothing like you ever new before. Lush greenery and sweetened air flowed through your nostrils every time you woke up; Softened gaze of the sun rippling over your body like it was a kiss from the gods themselves. The Reach was one of the least problematic provinces of Westeros but, somehow there would always be evil that followed. Maybe it was just you after all, maybe the evil followed because you provoked it? Your first lick of the bad was when one of the river boys decided to kill your lovely hummingbirds by pelting them with rocks; Weirdo was a phrase they tossed at you like stale bread. But it was the rocks being pelted back at their heads that helped solidify the family you would have, love and cherish forever.

Margaery Tyrell was your saving grace that dreadful summer day, her brother Loras standing directly next to her. It was their sharp aim of the glistening rocks that caused your tears and sadness to turn to smiles and laughter - protecting you from the bullshit being thrown your way. The reason you were tormented in The Reach was due to being a bastard - born to a mother and father who were merely fifteen. They could not care for you, so they ushered you off to the nearest orphanage, leaving you without a house name but one that would be burned into your cranium. Flowers was a beautiful last name, elegant and soft but - when it revolved around those born out of lust, no one appreciated it. Still Margaery and Loras let you become one of their own, promising to bring you love and joy like you never knew before. It they had not saved you that day - you would have been stoned to death by those measly boys. But you never expected your life to take such a turn, shifting from anger and sadness to peace and serenity. The Tyrells were one of the only welcoming families in all of the Seven Kingdoms, well besides the Martells.

Due to how close you had gotten with Margaery over the course of sixty two nights, Mace Tyrell had appointed you the handmaiden for his young daughter. It came naturally being best friends with Margaery with her loving, sympathetic and feisty nature; You felt like a Tyrell one most days. Both of you were around the same age of 12 when you had been given the role, doing that even up into this very day. It came naturally to be in the princesses care, though she was not royalty at that age just yet. It was an ongoing dream you both had, being whisked away far away from Highgarden to enjoy the scenery of the world - hoping a loving Prince would make you his one day. Though it was a pipedream, it was one you chose to reminisce in. Those small daydreams started to diminish when Margaery was being whisked away to Renly Baratheon - promising to make her a Queen. You were so happy your best friend got to see the world, being in charge and love every minute of it - but deep down you wished it was you. Mace told you the second she was sauntered off to another realm, you would not longer be of service but, Lady Olenna and Margaery were always going to need you as the handmaiden.

You had been through it all with Queen Margaery, Renly's death - Joffery's death and now her marriage to Tommen. Poor girl had endured so much in so little time you were starting to feel for her, maybe it was the course of the Baratheon's everyone droned on about at times. Still being the one to comfort her through it all meant the world; You needed each other like fish needed water - two halves of a whole. She could not function without you and vice versa; No one could function without a great support system in King's Landing. With Cersei always making her rounds to check in on the both of you, always making quips about you being a bastard - both you and Margaery talked the biggest load of shit about her once she left. Then again that is what sister's do, they talk shit and laugh together. A gift from the gods above, a curse in the seven kingdoms. The optimism that Margaery held was one of the reasons that you became narrow to the world, living as a realist instead of in your sweetened fantasies. There was too much death shrouding for one to endure; You took the baggage on for her.

A stormy night in King's Landing was rare, only sunshine had made its way through the golden city. Standing on the balcony of the castle you watched how the rain trickled down softly in your chambers, how it rippled amongst blackwater bay in the most beautiful of ways. You were meant to be drawing a bath up for Margaery but, decided to let the water boil a bit more before letting her slip in. She loved a hot bath with her favorite citrus and clove oils, and on colder nights like this - it was heavily needed. Pulling your shawl tightly around your body you took a deep breath, letting the different spicy scents take over your senses. Warmth of the water and the cold from the rain were in heavy contrast - the one week you spent up in Winterfell with the Tyrells brought back so many memories like this - but at least Winterfell was welcoming and warm, not sticky and hateful like King's Landing. Hearing the gentle patters of feet on the cobblestone, you rushed over to the fireplace with your mitts, prancing the last of the boiling water over to the metal tub. As the final wash fell over you added the best part, fresh lilac and rose petals from the garden below - fresh cut by the Queen herself.

Standing back towards the fireplace, you watched the chamber door open but - reveal total darkness. Chewing on your bottom lip you felt the warmed presence of something else enter, causing your heart to shift into a flutter. There was a moment of total silence; The rain being drowned out by the racing in your ears, how your body shifted so quickly into fight mode. Candlelight could only take you so far to see - you were never particular on having more than a handful of candles lit at once, a hazard in itself plus the minimal lighting was better for you to sleep in. Slipping in through the open door was someone you never expected to see up this way, thinking he was down in the lower chambers, with six other companions. A black, almost black shawl draped over his shoulders was accompanied by brown pants; The strings pulled loose to show an incredible clean tuft of curls sitting at the base of his pelvis. Wandering eyes made their way up his lean torso, falling right onto his face - one you hated to admit was gorgeous. Generous auburn eyes glowed in the pale moonlight, his facial hair soft enough to scratch, making him purr. His hair, god that fucking short mane on top - how you were tempted to curl your fingers around every inch.

Ever since those from all Seven Kingdoms came to rejoice in the Purple Wedding, there had been one set of eyes permanently locking themselves onto you - watching your every move like it was the best entertainment yet. It all started when you first accompanied Margaery to the great hall for the ceremony, taking your place on her side in front. You stood facing your best friend with a wide smile, giving her some hope though she was to marry such a monster. Everyone in all of Westeros knew how much of a psychopath Joffery Baratheon was, if you could give Margaery a sliver of hope then you were going to. Distraction was prevalent during the ceremony when a warmed presence made its way behind you - boring into your soul. The bareness of your back in the lilac dress you wore had you able to feel every small lick of heat from dead set eyes. Before you could spin around to see the gaze wanting your attention so badly, a thick accented voice, low in nature appeared right in your ear, a heavy breath of wine and berries falling over your senses; "How long have you known the new Queen?" He asked, it was a genuine question from what you could tell. The urge to spin around and see exactly who you were talking to was high but, it would be frowned upon. Plus if your gaze was shifted elsewhere, Margaery would begin to panic.

"About ten years; Give or take," It was true, now that you both were close to your mid twenties now. When meeting at 12 years old you never expected your life to take such a turn like this, to now be standing only a few mere feet from the iron throne where your best friend was. In a way you only thought you were going to have tragedy and horrible memories to grow up with but, the Tyrell's changed your entire outlook on life. "Always her handmaiden, or more?" The same voice asked, goosebumps prickling your bare arms. His calloused, strong fingers began to stroke their way up your skin - reveling in how you gently shook at his touch. For this mystery man to have such an effect on you already was a sign of submission, something you were never going to give up easily. "She's my best friend," You sighed out, wanting to focus on the ceremony rather than another drunken fool who would try and have his way with you. Shrugging his touch off you held your hands together right in front of you, tilting your chin high with a sophisticated smile to your Queen. Deep down you did not want this man's touches to stop, or his sweetened words - you were hating how much you craved a total stranger; What spell did he cast on you?

"Hm, I am so sure of it. From the look you're giving her I can tell it's more than that," Honeyed words caused you to spin around effortlessly - cocking a wary eyebrow at the patron behind you. To not avail did you find him, just cautious eyes from each section of Westeros shooting you a glare. The heat on your face rose as you sighed out, turning back to the ceremony - now having Cersei Lannister shoot daggers in your direction. The familiar scent of wine and berries came back effortlessly once your eyes faced forward, sending a wave of heat through your nerves. "I'm sorry, who are you?" Your words barely came out above a whisper as you jaunted on, trying to put as much space as you could between yourself and this mystery man. Placing his body directly behind yours, he ghosted his hand over your waist - the heat causing your eyes to flutter shut for a split second, "Little canary, allow me to introduce mysel-"

"Sir, there is a wedding going on and I am not going to get in trouble due to you. Introductions can wait," You did not intend for the words to come in such a harsh manner as they did, it was the fact that Cersei and Jamie were staring at you as if they wanted you dead, you couldn't deal with that on what was suppose to be such a happy day. Before you could shuffle off towards the opposite side of the Great Hall, the hand ghosting over your body finally came into contact, a breathy moan escaping his lips before he began to speak; "Prince Oberyn Martell," He whispered into your ear, placing his hand flush against your waist - pulling you back to his chest. Resting your head against his forehead, you tried to keep your concentration focused primarily on the boring ceremony, the draping of cloth going forth now. But it was difficult when Oberyn's hands roamed your body like you were the last meal in all of the country, starving for your affection, your body, and soul. "Why don't we skip the dreadful event going on and, let me worship you. My paramour would take a quick liking to such a beauty as yourself."

His lips nipped at the soft spot behind your ear, causing a silent whimper to release from your lips. Fighting to keep your eyes opened Oberyn took the opportunity to slip his hand through the opening just below your breast, trailing his hot fingertips across your stomach - dipping lower, and lower until his reached the juncture of where your thigh met your pelvis. Shuttering at the feeling you could not help but think about his words, how he explicitly used the word paramour over wife. The Prince of Dorne; One who fucked everything and anything that could walk. Oberyn Martell was here, right behind you, touching you in such intimate ways as his lips trailed down to your neck. Biting at the supple flesh near your jaw, you felt the anger boil up in you that you were allowing this out in the open, for everyone to see; "Do I look like I'm from the pleasure houses?" The quip was quick, causing the Prince to laugh right into your ear - the assault his lips were having on your neck and jaw never stopped, trailing over to your shoulder instead. "No, you're more sophisticated than that; Feisty. You have a fire and spark I am dying to ravish."

Twirling around in his grasp, you pushed back a bit more to head towards the middle of the crowd. One of your hand was fixed on the back of his neck whilst the other was pressed firmly against his toned chest - both set of eyes peering in to one another. One of the most cocky smirks you have ever seen fell upon his Prince's lips - kissing the side of your mouth as he hiked your leg up around his waist, rolling his hips up into you. The broken moan leaving your lips made you flush, not wanting to give into his advances already. Moving your lips to press against the shell of his ear, you bite down harshly on his lobe, spitting your words out, "If you touch me again, I will break your fucking hand - Martell."

Tightening your hands into fists, you rolled your eyes as you sauntered back to the fireplace, using the poker to move around some of the burnt logs, "You're a long way from the brothels, Prince Oberyn." Shooting a glare at the man standing before you, you groaned as you focused on the amber flames - hoping they would take you away from this entire moment. In a way you were pleased to see Prince Oberyn again, but another was cursing you for feeling this type of way. Oberyn had a huge reputation across all of Westeros and Essos for being an intimate man; One who finds pleasure in all people. Nothing wrong with being sexually active, it was the fact that he could flirt with one and fuck another that made you feel sleazy, as if you were working around the corner at Little fingers establishments. There was a pride you had for not using sex to get to where you are, or what you wanted. Every now and again you did dabble but, it was nothing too exciting. A royal guard member here, a squire there - basic as men could come. "Ah but little canary, I am exactly where I need to be," The thick Dornish tang of Oberyn's accent caused goosebumps to rise on your skin - though you were fanning the flames. Silently you cursed yourself for having a wave of arousal pool in your heated center.

"No, you're not. Why have you come to my chambers?" It was a bit unethical to say the least for Margaery to bathe in your chambers, then again any chance she could get away from Joffrey she was taking. But she would never tell anyone that, she would never let out that she comes to your room for solace in the darkest hours on the mornings. Sucking your teeth whilst refusing to look at Oberyn, you put the fire poker down to add two more logs - breathing out in a ragged manner, "The Queen insisted I become acquainted with her lovely handmaiden." The words shot through your body like ice, freezing you from the inside out. There was no way Margaery would, even if she saw what Oberyn was doing to you earlier. Shaking your head you pounced to your feet, staring daggers into the man before you, silently cursing how you eyes ran up and down his beautiful physique. The urge to strike on him like a viper was strong, wanting to take the name for yourself. "Margaery would never, get lost," You sighed, rubbing the heel of your hand against tired eyes - setting the plush towels down to the side of the tub. Oberyn wasted no time rubbing the small of your back through your baby blue dress - letting the soft chiffon run over his fingertips.

"Aw, are you not enveloped by my charm?" You were, that was the sad part. A side of you wanted to submit in his grasp, let him pull anything he wanted from your body - but you could give him that pleasure. Straightening your back out, you shoved the Prince away from your body - making your way across the room to focus in on your desk chair, pulling your papers closer; Your quill only a few inches away. "Charm? You?" You spat in the direction of the Dornish Prince, watching how his mouth quirked into a hefty smirk. Following your steps over in front of your desk, he watched how you intricately started to write across the creased parchment, the story you had been working on for many moons now. It was one full of tradition revolving around Samhain; A foreign concept you were not well versed in but, it did not stop you from telling the spooky tale. Rolling your eyes as Oberyn comes to your side, you pushed your chair further to the left, cricking your neck to ease the ever-lasting tension; "Please." Oberyn was loving just how playfully snappy you are, loving to tease but hating to give him any/all satisfaction. With you it was like pulling teeth; Men like this never deserved your attention as Mace always said.

Breaking your concentration from writing was the feeling of his warm touch pulling at the strap of your dress, dipping it down enough to show the skin of your shoulder. Oberyn was quick on his feet, you had to give him that. Almost instantly his lips attached to your neck over the back of the chair, biting down on the pillowy skin. There was something so pleasurable about his plush lips but you could not give in, your hands tightening into fists whilst trying to contemplate your next move. "Such a delicate little thing, I wonder how wild you could be without your restraints," Oberyn hummed deeply, letting it ripple from his broad chest. Trailing his strong fingers down the front of your dress he wound up slinking his fingers across the swell of your breast, watching ever so gently for your reaction. He was a man of many passions but, he would never force you into anything you were not comfortable with. He was not going to let anything like that come about, killing anyone who dared do that to those he cared for. Whimpering at his words you managed to sling a sentence together, but not before he chuckled at your broken state, "I-I don't know what you mean - I do not have any restraints."

You did, and you knew that you did. It wasn't all of your fault, King's Landing made everyone stressed and tensed. Constantly dealing with the brutality and the bullshit being thrown your way caused you to develop thick skin; Beautiful personality lost in the brazen attitude of the Capital. Lamb to slaughter was the best way to describe how it felt to oppose the Baratheon's, the Lannister's and any house that was prevalent within the Red Keep. Leaning forth into Oberyn's touch, he hummed pleasantly against your neck, giving you the tentative stirs of his fingers against your nipples, "Oh but my little canary, you do. You carry the burden of life around with you like it was a badge of honor - that has made you so uptight." Hearing the truth fall from his lips caused your body to go rigid - the pleasure and sweet satisfaction he laced your body with just from a single touch dissipated. Slowly you craned your neck to stare up at him, trying to threaten him with only your eyes; Oh how bright they shone against the wet moonlight. Only a mere few inches from your face was the Prince, his eyes blackened due to bodily intoxication; "If looks could kill, I would have an honorable death," He winked, pushing himself away from you.

"Prince Oberyn, please leave my chambers immediately." It was getting out of hand this small game of cat and mouse, how he was chasing you with a pining sensation rather than fear. In those beautiful pants giving you little to imagine, you could see his taut backside pounding softly with every small step he took. Of course he noticed, it would be unlike him if he didn't. Slamming your open palms against the fresh oak desk, you rose quickly enough to show how serious you were. Daggers in your eyes and huffed breaths releasing in your wake made Oberyn's cock twitch - wanting to see you submit to him, release that hidden tension you were so adamant about not having. Waving off your excuse of madness, he let the hottest water of the bath ripple against his open palm - moaning at the sensation, "You need to relax, dear canary - sing for me. Come, join my bath," Oberyn pouted right in your direction - catching you with a meek smile. He waited, and waited, and waited for your loving response, knowing you were only moments away from fully cracking. But alas he was wrong, you would not submit without a fight; "No."

Shrugging your one word off as nothing, Oberyn began to hum as he let his shawl fall to the floor - pooling right behind him. His gaze never left yours as he pulled at the leather ties to his slacks, the softened leather outlining his thick cock deliciously. He was teasing you with every movement, not pulling his pants down right away but instead lowering them slowly. Each inch that he released caused the pool of arousal to grow between your legs - his shaft of his girthy length coming into full view. Under candlelight it was so tan, mostly from the nude bathing on the beach he loved to do, but his purple tip - begging to be sucked called your name; Your breath hitching in your throat. Winking at your shocked state, he finally let the pants pool on the floor with a loud groan - the colder air nipping at his bare skin. It did not take the Prince long to slip into the bath, sighing out heavily at the amazing feeling of the hot water on his skin. "Mmm, you made this perfect for me," his moan of appreciation opened the floodgates in your core, causing your legs to part slightly. What would he think if you dropped your dress and joined him? Would he welcome you with opened arms, or would he criticize you? Many thoughts of what you wanted this man to do to you flew through your mind, the dilemma was whether to act on them.

"You're an absolute nuisance, I will have the King's Guard escort you out," with the slam of your hands they came in contact with the wood again, causing Oberyn to jolt slightly in the water. Laughing at your remark he nodded, agreeing that he was a nuisance. He took great pride in knowing how much he pushed people beyond their limits, wanting them to see what life truly had to offer - what they should not be afraid of in hindsight. Life is all about adventure and new opportunity; Oberyn's mission was to make sure you felt the love and want that you deserve, that you craved from a young age. He knew what it was like to be unwanted, but never let that define him. Dorne is for lovers - he wanted every part of Westeros to see, feel, and hear it. Sinking further into the water of the golden tub, he deeply inhaled the beautiful clove scent, reminding him of Sunspear as he spoke, "When was the last time you were properly given the bounty of pleasure?" His face did not falter in the slightest, remaining strong and curious with a tightly pulled lip. Pondering your own expression wasn't hard to do in this lighting, but he could see the heat rising across your skin.

"Shut up-" you stopped yourself quick, not wanting to elaborate on what your mind was thinking. It had been a long, long time - before you even got to the Red Keep when you last experienced pleasure. The last person you ever let touch you in such an intimate setting was Podrick Payne, a chance encounter one night while Tyrion and Sansa were on some kind of retreat. Though it was one of the best sexual experiences, it was innocent with only fingers and mouths being of use. Nothing in between to really get your fancy going. Multiple nights you lulled yourself to sleep with the delicate touch of your own fingers inside your aching core - not thick or long enough to truly graze that one spongy spot. Now with Oberyn, you know that man could find that spot within seconds to have you see stars, to give yourself the beautiful release you were so desperately seeking. He would pull ripple upon ripple of your orgasm from you effortlessly, still begging you for more at the end of the day. That is all you have been craving since he touched you on the wedding day; "Ah, we must have a virgin in our midst."

It was a vicious slap back to reality, hearing such a skilled man call you a virgin. You were nowhere near that pure, losing yours within the last of your teenage years. The anger boiling over in your bloodstream was making you nervous at how badly you were going to snap at Oberyn. You didn't want to lose your cool with him, especially since you were starting to warm up to the idea of him pleasing you. But everyone in King's Landing made fun of you for being pure, uptight and a bitch - so it was like he was adding it the bullying deep within your mind. Pinpricks of tears latched themselves to your lashes as you tried to get them away, not wanting to cry in front of the Prince of Dorne. Rounding your desk you were like a bat out of hell, rushing over to the side of Oberyn as he laid in the tub, comfortable and at peace. Lowering your gaze to stare right at eye level, you let your vision go red before lashing out the harshest words you could muster, wanting them to burn, and sting; "I fucking hate you, Martell. You are one of those most bat shit fuckers I have ever laid my eyes upon, and one that is too slow on the dr-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Oberyn's wet hand came up quick from the hot water, slamming right against the juncture of your throat. Your knees buckled as they came into contact with the cold stone floor, your breath caught in his tight grasp. Bringing your hands up to grip at his wrist you saw the amused grin on his pouty lips, how his eyes slanted slightly to engage in your retort. Bringing your face closer to his, he let his fingers press down on your pulse point to cut the blood flow off - pounding of blood in your ears became deafening when he fanned his hot breath of your parted lips, "I'm what?" The words were calm, too calm for your liking. The fact that Oberyn did not bat an eye at what he was doing spoke measures; How he man handled you without a single thought to accompany it. Gods what you would give to slam yourself down onto his lap right now, but of course that would be too easy, you wanted him to submit. "T-Too slow on th-he dr-r-raw!" You managed to croak the words out with a playful smirk, but Oberyn was not having it. He moved so quickly to pin your face down against the side of the tub, letting some of the water splash against your chin and neck. Under your dress your thighs were trembling at the sudden surge of dominance; Your teeth putting your lip tightly.

"You grab a woman like a bitch in heat; Pathetic." This was not helping your case at all, with Oberyn tightening his grip around your neck as the harsh curl of the metal edge dug into your warm cheek. Wriggling against his restraint had you seeing stars, his warm hand in contrast with your cool skin - how you could feel every inch of his callouses from years and years of sparring. To be man handled by someone as experienced as Oberyn was what you needed - to give up control and order for a little bit just to feel, to embrace, and enjoy. Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to call a quits now, let this man reign over you and let everything be where it needed. He has had decades upon decades of practice, why would you be any different to the first timers he had? "You know what I think?" Oberyn's words were almost distant when he spoke, though his lips were pressed right against your temple. Gulping down the pool of saliva making itself known within your mouth you tried to keep your focus, but could only imagine how that gorgeous chin strap and moustache would feel between your legs, against your bare thighs - rubbing that sweet bundle of nerves right at the top of your sex. If his hold wasn't so tight, you would be a moaning mess.

You had not realized that Oberyn was not liking your quietness, or how lost in thought you truly were to his advances. The only thing you could think of in this moment was how good you would look bouncing on his cock, dragging your nails down his chest on your bed - letting the Prince have his way with you. A harsh crack against your backside caused you to silently yelp, bringing your gaze back up to him as the devilish grin grew - seeing the pleasure building within your eyes; "I think because you have never known the touch of someone so skilled in their craft, one who will not be a disappointment, it has caused you to have a Lannister stick lodged so far up this beautiful ass, you cannot let yourself enjoy the smaller things life has to offer." Each word he let out was given new purpose, causing your chest to ignite. He was not wrong, it was invisible but to those who paid close attention to detail could see how far it was truly lodged up there. There was a glint in his eyes that showed he wanted to remove it, to let those barbed edges slid out of the deepened gashes they created. You did not deserve to be afraid, or scared to take advantage of life; You deserved happiness and freedom - Oberyn wanted to give you that though you were a tough nut to crack. "Flowers; A bastard, are you not?" The quick change in subject caused your heart to plummet, his hand to release small off of your neck.

"That has-" You began, shaking your head as far as he would allow. Oberyn was not having it though, knowing you were going to do what you did best - deny. Pushing your throat down harder against the metal rim he cut your words off quickly, not wanting you to put more negativity out when he was trying to give you some goodness - the greatness you deserved to have. "In Dorne we welcome bastards; Sand is not a name to be ashamed of but one to take great reward in. Hell, I have eight bastard girls myself." That was always a part of the Southern part of Westeros you loved, how the Dornish took pride in bastards rather than shut them away like they were garbage. Deep down you always pondered what it would be like to grow up in Dorne, to be appreciated and loved in a multitude of ways, rather than bullied and tormented. Hearing Oberyn mention his daughters caused your heart to explode with admiration; Just by simple words you could tell how proud he was of them. Though you hardened and sarcastic nature would not let you praise that man for it, instead your retort would be one that Oberyn would not shy away from - especially if it meant punishing you; "Good for you, old man."

It surprised you how quickly and clearly you managed to let that seep out, how the best insult you could come up with is age. Though your words were small they did have a greater impact on the man, though he would not show it properly. One of the things he had been most worried about recently was the small patch of grey hair that littered his temple, along with the softening of his belly, showing his age off a bit more than normal. You did not mean it in such a horrid way, no, it was meant as a teasing tactic to see what he would do to you. Seeing the slight hurt in his eyes made you feel tiny, small and childlike whimpering for help, the cool burst across your body was fear inducing. "You think 42 is old, little canary?" Though you couldn't tell now how much your words offended the Prince when he was beaming down at you, his body half in and half out of the water - the gorgeous outline of his length barely breaking the surface. How you wanted to just reach down and grab hold onto it, suck on the tip until you could taste his salty essence. "No, I think you're old," you meant for it to sound intimidating, but with the way you sated at his cock, your eyes told another story.

"Have you met such an old man who can pull such pleasure from your body in only two minutes?" Oberyn smirked at your expression, flicking his tongue out in a way to mock, and mimic what he could do to your aching mound. When his hand released off of your neck you let out an embarrassingly loud moan at the thought of Oberyn eating you out, clamping your eyes shut - but not moving your head. Perching himself up on his knees, Oberyn pulled you to your feet, letting his eyes wander across your beautiful dress-clad form. Roaming hands found the luscious ribbon holding the entire thing together, slowly tugging on each one to let your dress shed. You could not deny him this pleasure of seeing you in the nude - fuck you didn't want him to stop. The first set came undone easily, leaving only the next two as your life support almost. This was a teasing tactic he was doing, seeing how much you really wanted him and how much you actually played into his games; How much he played into yours. "Just let go, for one dear y/n. Let me take care of you-"

"I'd rather die," you cursed yourself silently at your words, sighing out. It was becoming tiring for you to keep this charade up - draining you of your happy essence to a man who wanted to worship you. Sucking in a deep breath, you let your eyes meet his finally, after so long of pondering what could be. Instinctively you placed your hands right on his shoulders to brace yourself, feeling the last of your straps become undone. Though your words felt like acid in your mouth, Oberyn smirked at your boldness - telling off a part of the royal family, which in some cases, would get you killed. The only was you wanted to die at the hands of Oberyn was by his mouth, his fingers and his cock. You'd want to die by the pleasure and overstimulation, rather than his perfected craft of poison. "I can have that arranged, you know," Oberyn challenged as he released the last of your bindings, letting your nude body stand before him as the soft fabric of your dress pooled at your feet. Instantly to the cool room your nipples pebbled for Oberyn, which caused him to latch his lips onto the tightened bud. Suckling gently to give you that new found pleasure, he held your hand as he lowered you to him in the tub - wanting you to relax. You were finally giving into him.

Oberyn held your thighs as you lowered, wanting to let your legs cradle his waist while holding you close, letting you feel the skin to skin contact you have lacked. You had to admit the water was perfect, how hot it was against the cold room made your body shiver with delight. Hot baths like this were reserved for the Queen only, you had to deal with lukewarm; This changed everything. Every inch of stress and bullshit you have had to deal with over the last few years simply melted away to the scent of citrus and clove; The warm hands holding your thigh and back released positive endorphins to cloud that dull mind. In a way, under Oberyn's grasp, you felt like you again - not the distant memory of you that was locked away. The wet hand that laid against your back trailed wet touches up your spine, leading to the back of your neck. But this time when he held you, it wasn't out of anger - but love. Pulling your face towards him easily, Oberyn braced himself against your body as you did the same, knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

Gently Oberyn lurched forward to press his plush lips to yours with passion; Not enough to be marked as lust but, affection. The kiss was slow, and sweet - no real sign of sexual tension. How perfectly his lips molded to yours only amplified the slick between your legs, dribbling onto Oberyn's exposed cock. Your hand came to wrap around Oberyn's neck, pulling slightly at the tuft of curls he had flowing down the back of his head. The whimper escaping your lips was immediately swallowed by the Prince, his hold on your thigh becoming harsh. Pulling back slightly Oberyn turned breathless with a smile, pushing some of the dampened hair out of your face with ease; "See? Now was that so difficult?" Oberyn's chuckle was like music to your ears, the soft and pillowy nature felt like the home you never knew before. Returning his beautiful smile with such ease, you pressed your forehead against his with a sigh, loving how everything you have been harboring was slipping away, not threatening to come back as long as you were in Oberyn's arms. "Little canary, can I make you sing for me?" Oberyn's voice dipped lower, a seductive stance coming out as he laced his fingers in your hair, tugging your gentle locks. Breathlessly you responded, grinding your molten center against his aching length, earning a harsh slap against your ass, "Yes, release my body of the impurity the Lannister's have put on me."

"Don't you worry, my gorgeous sun, let me take care of you. Let me show you how we relieve tension in Dorne."

[vaguely-concerned]

I think there is no better illustration of the more intimate, internal angle veilguard chooses to approach its characters and themes with than the fact that like... listen in this game we get to follow so much pain back to its source, and we find it really does permeate everything in thedas today on a level that evokes a kind of cosmic horror. the bones of the earth itself are broken open and drenched in trauma; the world is mired in suffering down to the core and the marrow. as above, so below. as outside, so inside. on the big scale, and the small. all of creation is a throat gone to bloody shreds from screaming in agony, when you allow yourself to listen. (maybe that's why we usually don't, or can't, bring ourselves to listen.)

...and yet the thing that makes me personally so desperately gnaw-my-own-arm-off sad that it feels like I could die from it is that in a run where you save minrathous, lucanis never gets out from the ossuary in his mind. what's worse, no one even knows he's in there. he's still in there. and there is no rescue on the way, because he's locked down so deep inside himself this time that there's no way for anyone to even understand there's a need for it. would he be able to welcome one, if someone did realize it and tried to reach him? You know him -- you can open the door, but he won't walk through. He won't move. There's nowhere to go. the way he says 'it doesn't matter what I want' with such utter, leaden, final resignation in the wrecked treviso cutscene is going to haunt me forever. it makes perfect sense to me you can't romance him after that, I'm not sure he's ever really here completely in that version of events, at least within the timeline the game takes place. he's just standing in the shitty awful ossuary torture room all alone, and no one's coming to find him.

and what is that, next to the millennia of suffering screaming through all of history and creation? well. nothing, of course, not really. a single plucked string in an endless deafening symphony of despair. one singular trapped and broken soul among the untold millions that have gone before and the untold more that will surely come after, that are being made as we speak in the conflicts and tragedies unfolding through the game. but more importantly it's also everything. to me. and to the game too. the game says this also matters. just as much as anything else, this pain matters and deserves to be loved and comforted. even in the face of all the suffering in the world, beneath the systems perpetuating all the banalities of evil, for good or for ill sometimes, we matter to each other. and what would be the point of anything, if we didn't? that's where hope lives. as long as you're alive, the right key might still arrive to gently open the locks of your mind, the right hand might reach out one day and you will bring yourself to take it. you don't know what tomorrow's going to be. if in the meantime the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other -- isn't that enough? isn't that everything? why does this one guy saved mean the world saved to me, a little bit? hello. hello. hello. there's stuff going on in the deep here.

when I say that the deep thematic spine of this game is so good and solid that the occasional clumsiness and false tones of the writing on top of it simply cannot hurt me... I think this is part of what I mean. works for every single one of the characters of course! lucanis' is the predicament that speaks to me most viscerally. for. uh. personal reasons there simply is no time to get into at this juncture lol. but just as much the idea that davrin can die before he could see the world freed from the blight and the need for wardens, or that harding can get cut down right at the beginning of a great revelation that could change everything and heal things no one had even dreamed could be healed. all of them are like this. each and every one of us has a world and so many stories inside that matter, and it's not to dismiss the larger systemic forces and evils that create so much of the suffering in the world to focus in on that for one installment of the series -- only to view it from a different angle that brings other things to light than what we're looking for normally in this series. it's worth looking at what's actually here.

(have you ever heard the poem 'good light' by andrea gibson? it's very good. you should check it out if you haven't, you can find it on youtube. it has these lines:

Come make it count Our finding each other like we found God Come root for the salt Come believing we can heal it all, even everything Even everything that has ever been done I know how much the pain of this world weighs But I can still tip the scales in light's direction Whenever I have your name on my tongue

and yeah. I think that's basically what I'm trying to say here.)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Remember how Ford made himself a target during weirdmageddon by admitting that he knew the equation to collapse the barrier on gravity falls to keep him distracted so he wouldn’t go after his family, even if that meant he’d go through a f*ck ton of torture?

I think he did the same thing back in the 80’s when he realized Bill was evil but didn’t go to you for help. Sure, maybe half of it was him not believing he had any right to reach out to you for help after he essentially ghosted you for months because of Bill’s influence, but the other half was definitely him wanting to keep you as far outside of Bill’s reach as possible.

If we’re being real, Bill likely threatened to possess his body and hurt or maybe even off you, so as much as it pained him to stay away, he believed you’d be safer if he did.

The sad thing is, you got hurt regardless.

Dunno if this answers your ask or not, I’ll let you decide.

I imagine that Ford has like a two page spread dedicated to you in his journal, very much in the same way he had a page dedicated to heavily debating whether or not he should reach out to Stanley for help.

But instead of the page being full of cons why Ford shouldn’t contact you, it’s him admitting to his biggest and most stupidest regret he’s ever committed: pushing you away and how he truly believes that in order to keep you safe he had to cut connections with you and go non contact. His hand ached like hell from when Bill tried to punch and scratch the door to the portal but the ache in his heart was ever greater than that.

The page would be covered head to toe in drawings of you and your sweet smile, maybe even adding a picture of you both when you were younger. Bill might’ve been his muse for a while but you were his lifelong muse that he has tossed aside for something temporary.

You grew up with him and Stanley and knew him better then he knew himself in most cases and instead of repaying the favour, Ford fucked off to gravity Falls and dedicated himself entirely to his work, isolating himself from anyone and everyone and would often double down on this when confronted about it.

Though sooner or later the regret settles in his chest as he soon realises that he was on his own after Fiddleford left.

He had let bill consume him from the inside out and made him believe that no one outside of them both should matter or be worth a second thought; Even you, his once dearly beloved. The one who didn’t see his six fingers as an abnormality but a gift, a blessing even to his distinct uniqueness. You gave him your all and he gave you nothing in return. How selfish of him.

Ford wouldn’t be surprised if you had forgotten about him or had your heart sour at the thought of him and moved on after awhile. he couldn’t blame you, he never could as he felt it was a befitting punishment for never having bothered to reach out and respond whenever you asked him if he was okay, or taking care of himself. All you wanted was for him to be safe and enjoy Gravity Falls for what it was and not what he wanted it to be and Ford didn’t even do that.

Ford was certain you’d be ashamed of him and the things he’s done alongside Bill, or the things Bill did while possessing him. You’d probably wouldn’t recognise him anymore even if he did reach out to you.

He wanted to reach out to you, he really did but he didn’t feel as though the reception he would receive wouldn’t be a warm one. You wouldn’t smile at him lovingly or call his name with a fondness and hug him tightly, but instead look at him as though he was the cause of all your misery because in some aspect he was, and never had he regretted it more then he did now when his own loneliness became evident and hard to deny.

Bill would’ve made multiple threats to Ford that he’d kill you or torture you while possessing him so that it would look like he was the one hurting you if he ever thought about reaching out to you, and he’d make sure that it would haunt him for the rest of his life knowing that he couldn’t do anything to protect the one he loved the most. Bill would make a point with your theoretical death as to keep Ford in line.

Ford probably even have hallucinations of you dying or dead before he could even reach you and would believe that this was a sign to not get you involved in his mess. He has no right to reach for you after being silent for so long, which is why he decided to take the risk and reach out to Stanley instead, only with the promise that he didn’t tell you what was going on no matter how hard it maybe for him to not do so, as he knew Stanley has a weak spot for you -his honorary sibling or in law should Ford have actually married you- and it had been that way since you were kids.

However despite all the risks Ford has put himself through, you were still nursing a broken heart over his lack of communication ever since he moved to Gravity Falls. Maybe he had forgotten all about you during his stay, or finally felt relived that he was leaving town that he forgot you were the reason it was bearable? Whether the reason it didn’t stop your heart from hurting knowing that the perfect man you’ve known since childhood had left you in the past while he headed towards his future, alone.

You’d love him, you’d never stop loving Ford and you don’t think you ever could and what hurt the most was that he might’ve felt something, or nothing at all for you, but you’ll never get that answer from him directly so you decided the answer for yourself and have been living with a broken heart ever since.

[demonpiratehuntress]

vampire shenanigans (Straw Hats + Ace, Law, Kaku)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader

summary - your crew's stop at a nearby island takes a dark (but also kind of funny) turn when the town's vampire king tries to make you his wife. your boyfriend is NOT amused.

warnings - none

a/n - one of my stupid, random ideas

You were bad with directions. Because while everyone had been exploring the new island you'd stopped at, you had somehow gotten yourself lost. And found yourself deep in the woods, in front of an evil-looking castle that practically oozed danger. It was obvious enough to you not to go in, but before you could turn and walk away your vision went dark.

ZORO

"Wait, where's (Name)?"

Zoro was the first to notice your absence when the group met up in the town square, looking around worriedly. Even he and Luffy had found their way here before you, which never happened.

"Maybe she lost track of time?" Robin suggested. "She's probably in one of these shops."

After a while of looking around and asking shopkeepers about you, though, they had no luck finding you. Until a pale, eerily skinny girl came running from the forest, attracting the townspeople's attention.

"The king has chosen his bride!" She cried out, then collapsed.

The Straw Hats were confused. What happened to her, and who was this 'king'? Also where did she come from and why did all the villagers look frightened by her words? Questioning a few of them yielded nothing except 'vampire'.

"Wait a minute..." Nami started, frowning. "That must be (Name)!"

"What?" Zoro demanded, almost growling.

"Well, think of it, she's been gone so long and it's odd for her to be the last one to come back. Maybe that's because she was kidnapped by this king."

"Oh hell no," Zoro grumbled, "He is NOT marrying MY girlfriend. Only I can do that."

Before the other Straw Hats could even react to that, the green-haired swordsman was trudging up the hill and entering the forest. They hastily followed, giving each other uneasy looks as they got to the spooky castle.

"Give me back my woman!" Zoro was yelling at someone, "The only person who's going to marry her is me!"

Your eyes widened at his words, a blush falling over your cheeks as you watched your boyfriend challenge the annoyed vampire beside you.

I'm pretty sure we all know who wins this fight. An angry Zoro is NOT to be trifled with, after all.

"So, you're going to marry me huh?"

Zoro's cheeks turned slightly pink, "Someday, yeah."

ACE

The minute Ace lost sight of you, he flew into a frenzy. He was panicking like he'd lost a child, running all over town looking for you. He knew of your tendency to get lost, and it always scared him. Especially when he took his eyes off you for one second and then looked back to see you had vanished. The poor man wants to cry when he doesn't find you anywhere, and Marco has to calm him down and assure him that they will find you.

A nearby couple talking in hushed tones caught Ace's attention, as well as the fact that they kept glancing at him and Marco not-so-secretly. He went over to them.

"Hi, have you seen a woman with-"

"She was taken by the vampire king," someone behind them spoke. The couple rushed off, frightened by the newcomer. Ace turned to see a young woman coming towards him and Marco. She held an umbrella over her head, despite the sun being out.

"Um...vampire king?" The commander questioned.

"He takes a woman once every few years, marries them and turns them, and then leaves them," she explained. "So if you've lost your friend and can't find her anywhere in town, that must be where she is." The woman's tone was sad, as if she knew this from experience.

"Thank you," Ace nodded and sprinted off before Marco could protest or suggest telling Whitebeard what happened.

"Ace! You don't even know where he lives!"

Somehow, Ace found the place and by the time Marco had caught up with the pissed 2nd division commander he saw Ace challenging a man who was holding you hostage. This must have been the vampire king.

"Give her back!" Ace was aggressively demanding, flames dancing along his arms and legs, his eyes just as fiery. "If she's going to be anyone's wife, she'll be my wife!"

You blushed HEAVILY at that. You and Ace had spoken a lot about marriage, but you hadn't thought he was serious about it. Your heart warmed at the thought, and once he had taken care of the king - fire was a pretty convenient weapon against vampires - you immediately kissed him when he came close.

"There's only one person I would ever say yes to, Ace. And that's you."

LAW

You had split off with Bepo to find something to gift Law for your anniversary. When the bear came running back to Law with tears streaming down his face, the doctor knew the worst must have happened. And it was only confirmed when Bepo repeatedly apologised through his tears before finally telling Law you had been kidnapped.

"Kidnapped?" The surgeon frowned. "By who?"

"I couldn't see him very well," Bepo was sobbing, the poor bear, "But he was tall and pale. With red eyes."

Law cursed. He knew what that might mean, and he felt ridiculous putting you and his crew in this position in the first place. He had, for once, forgotten to check what island this was, and now you were paying the price for his negligence.

"Come on, I know where she is."

The crew followed their captain through the forest, getting frightened by the spooky atmosphere but still trudging through. You were one of them, after all, and that was their motivation. Especially Bepo and Law. The captain was practically fuming, and steam would have come out of his ears if possible. How dare someone kidnap you? Was this stupid vampire king not aware of who you were with?

It was almost as if he sensed Law's presence, because the doors swung open for the Heart pirates to enter. They found you in the dining room, you looking relieved to see them and the vampire smirking smugly at Law.

"A pretty thing, you had," he began, "Such a shame she's mine now. But I am generous, so I'll let you stay for the wedding."

Bepo was outraged, but Law held him back, "Wedding? I haven't planned one with her yet, but I appreciate you letting us use your facilities for it."

Your face turned beet-red, never having expected to hear that from Law. He 'room, shambled' the vampire and then quickly walked over to you.

"Are you okay?"

You smiled up at him, "I'm perfect."

"That you are," he smiled back and kissed your cheek, a rare display in front of the crew just because he was so relieved you were okay.

KAKU

You and Kaku had just been trying to have a nice vacation. But you should have really done your research first, because apparently women disappeared a lot on this island, but the islanders wouldn't tell Kaku why or where you had gone. He remained calm on the outside, but internally he was panicking and freaking out completely. How had he lost you??

He searched everywhere in the town, but found nothing. You were nowhere in sight, as if you had just vanished into thin air. One moment you were next to him, the next you were gone. You might have wandered off, but to where??

"Go look in the forest," someone spoke from beside him as he looked again through a store window. "She might be there."

He turned to look at who had spoken, and found himself facing a very scary looking woman. She might have been scary because she looked like all the blood had been drained from her body, and her skin was paler than any normal human's.

Kaku wanted to ask why she looked like that and how she knew where you were, but decided that finding you took top priority. He thanked her and went off to the forest, and it wasn't long before he realised the answers to the questions he wanted to ask that lady.

He was standing in front of a gothic castle, one that looked like it belonged to a vampire - and Kaku soon found out it did.

"I can't give her back," the vampire said coolly, smirking, "She is my bride."

Kaku glared, a sight so scary you'd hid your face the first time you saw it. Kaku was normally cute and shy, but when he got angry and when he glared he was the scariest person in the world. It was probably the unhinged look in his eyes.

"She will be no one's bride but mine," the CP9 assassin growled, drawing his swords.

It was a very intense fight, but you only had one thing on your mind. When Kaku tossed the ripped off head of the vampire aside, making sure to light it on fire, he turned only to have you crash into him and engulf him in a hug.

"Your bride, huh? I look forward to it."

SANJI

God help anyone who tries to marry you with this guy around. Even if said person was an immortal being capable of draining his body of blood. But he didn't know that's what the crew faced, when you suddenly just didn't return from a store you had gone to look at. Everyone had split up to explore, but you hadn't come back yet and Sanji was getting agitated.

"I'm sure she's fine," Chopper tried to assure him, "(Name) can handle herself."

An old man suddenly came up to them then, looking so sad that Sanji almost gave him a hug.

"Your friend is gone," he spoke dejectedly, "He comes and takes any woman he chooses, and you never see that poor girl again." Then he walked off, as if what he'd said had made perfect sense.

"Um..."

Sanji looked around, trying to see if anyone looked suspicious, until something caught his eye from the forest. As if drawn to it, he suddenly went in that direction and found himself in front of a very eerie castle a few minutes later.

"(Name) is in there?"

"Who dares talk about my bride?"

"EXCUSE ME?!" Sanji yelled. "THAT IS MY GIRLFRIEND!"

"I think not," the vampire finally showed his face, pulling you along, "She will marry me and become my wife."

"If (Name) is going to marry anyone it's going to be me!" Sanji cried and then attacked.

Once that was over, you went over to him and grinned, "Marriage, huh? I didn't think playboys had that in their vocabulary."

"Oh, ha ha," he replied sarcastically, sweeping you into his arms and peppering your face with kissed, "I mean it, you know."

You smiled, "Good, cause I want it."

LUFFY

I'm going to be honest with you, Luffy is lost with you too. He sticks to you like actual glue, so it's no surprise when he ends up by the castle with you. The only difference is that he's knocked out and left outside, while you were taken inside to face god-knows-what. When Luffy finally woke up, the rest of the crew was surrounding him.

"Luffy, what happened?" Chopper asked, concerned as he checked Luffy's vitals and made sure he was okay.

"I don't know," the captain frowned, "(Name) and I got lost, and came here to this creepy castle. Then I woke up now."

"Wait, so you don't know what happened to (Name)?!" Sanji panicked. "You idiot, you were supposed to protect her!"

Zoro glared at the cook, "Calm down, stupid cook. Take a look at this castle, something weird lives in there."

Luffy's eyes widened then, realising just now what he had said. He shot to his feet, head whipping around wildly as if that would help him locate you, "Where's (Name)?! Is she in there?"

The crew groaned collectively, knowing that Luffy was about to get them into possibly another life-threatening fight. However, before that could happen, the doors swung open and you walked out, but you were not alone. A tall, pale man was with you, a wicked grin on his face as his eyes gleamed red.

"Say goodbye to your friends, my bride."

"Bride?!" Nami and Sanji screeched in unison, followed by Sanji fainting.

"(Name) is not your bride!" Luffy argued, clenching his fists. "She should not be forced to marry you! She should be able to marry who she wants to, and that will be me!"

Your heart swelled at his words, and when he had gotten rid of your captor you walked over and kissed his cheek, "You're right, it will be you."

USOPP

"(Name)? (Name)!"

The crew found Usopp spinning in circles and frantically calling your name, as if summoning you through some weird ritual. They all raised their eyebrows, waiting for the sniper to stop and notice them.

"Oh, hey guys! Have you seen (Name)?" He asked them, his eyes wide with panic. "I think I lost her."

"You think YOU WHAT?!" Sanji yelled, eyes blazing.

Usopp laughed nervously, backing away slowly, "I swear she was just right next to me! Hurry up and help me find her!"

That didn't take long, because when they wandered into the forest and found a creepy castle, Luffy pulled them all inside and said you must be hiding in there. More like kidnapped, which is what they found out when they walked in on you sitting at a very very long table, across from a very very pale man with glittering red eyes.

"V-v-v-" Usopp couldn't even get the full word out of his mouth. "What are you doing with my girlfriend!" He took aim at the vampire.

The vampire laughed and dusted himself off, "She's not your girlfriend anymore, sadly. She is mine. And tomorrow, we shall be wed in front of the entire town."

Usopp's blood boiled. People and monsters alike could walk all over him if they wanted to, which they did, but you were a different story. When it came to you, hell hath no fury like an angry, protective Usopp.

A barrage of exploding stars is what led the vampire to his unexpected end, his cockiness getting the better of him.

Usopp glared at his burning body, "Sorry but the only person who can wed this pretty woman is me. And it'll be in front of our crew."

You beamed and threw your arms around the sniper, kissing him passionately, "Agreed."

[seriouslygoodomens]

Alright I'm back. Bare with me please.

We NEEEED to be talking about this.

When Aziraphale and Crowley have their first big on screen fight/break up(how ever you want to view it) we see Crowley start yelling about how he hates the "great plan" and Aziraphale goes on to say "may he be forgiven" this leads on to Crowley having a bit of a sad rant as below, even going as far as saying "i will never be forgiven, not ever. Remember, this is the Crowley that said "I didn't even mean to fall, I just hung around the wrong people"

Now what I want to add to this is how absolutely devastated Crowley sounds after this fight and how absolutely torn Aziraphale looks.

(Excuse my poor video, I couldn't find the scene online)

My rant doesn't stop there, no, no. I have more!

The ONE thing Crowley plays into is the "I'm a demon I'm not nice or worthy of forgiveness." And I think Aziraphale is aware of that.

1. He never gets mad when Crowley pulls the "I'm not nice" cranky pants act

2. He didn't even flinch when Crowley shoved him against the wall in the first seasons(but that could be for different reasons 😉)

3. He never, assumes Crowley is behind the wrong doing until Crowley says something dumb like "I got a commendation" regarding the French head cutting. He has learned over the years that what Crowley makes "evil" is usually not something truly bad like the whole bullets instead of paint but no one actually got hurt.

Aziraphale loves Crowley so much but he can't say it because they are always being watched. So you know what he uses instead? I FORGIVE YOU. We see it twice in the series. Aziraphale understand that Crowley thinks he will never be forgiven and that being a demon, he isn't worthy of anyone's forgiveness. So Aziraphale makes sure Crowley knows rhat he is worthy and that he cares so much about Crowley that even God herself won't forgive him, at least Aziraphale has. Aziraphale uses it as his I love you because in a way, it means so much more to them.

Here is the first "I forgive you"

Crowley is pouring his heart out trying to protect Aziraphale and get him to run away with him. He even tells Aziraphale how clever he is, granted he also called him stupid. This is another moment where Crowley is really trying to explain to Az how much he cares about him. Yes there is a LOT of miscommunication here because Aziraphale doesn't want to leave earth. He wants Crowley but he doesn't want to leave. He wants to fight for what is right. Crowley just wants to protect Azirphale and himself. He wants them to have peace together. The do argue and you can see Az is hurt again but instead of breaking things off like earlier, he says "I forgive you" which we can all agree doesn't just mean he forgives Crowley for being rude, he is forgiving so much

. The rude comments

. Lack of trust

. Showing he is worth forgiveness even with such a rushed apology.

Crowley could have left! By all means he should have but he could not abandon his Angel. There is nothing Crowley fears more than losing his Angel. He knew hell was coming for him, he knew they would destroy him for such a huge mistake but he stayed because his Angel is worth risking his life for. His Angel who forgives him time and time again for having to be a "demon" and put on the act. The Angel that has been by his side for thousands of years, just them against all else. Of course he stayed, and do we blame him?

Now let's move onto the second "I forgive you" scene and boy, there is a LOOOOOT to unpack there.

I'm not going into the last 15 because there is SOOO many posts that accurately portray the meaning behind BOTH of their song and dance. Especially Aziraphale's side. So I'm just going to cover that last scene in the shop together.

. Aziraphale knows they are being watched, just like season 1 all over again. The threat is much great this time, though, it's the actual Metatron

. When he first came into the shop, he KNEW what Crowley was going to say by the first words and Az even said "I know we ought be talking about..." he then looked outside and the scene continued. The whole time he keeps glancing outside!!

. When Crowley kisses him, you see Az lose himself in it. He leans in and holds him, ever so briefly before remembering they are being watched. The kiss is all they have ever wanted but it's the wrong time as they are being watched. Just watch him grab his back and straighten slightly

. The first place Az looks after the kiss is outside to the Metabastard. Crowley never once follows his eyes though, would it have been different if he did?

. That man is broken! He loves Crowley beyond words, beyond books and would risk everything for him, that's what he is doing to protect him right now in this scene. As stated in one of the flash backs in season one "I can't have you risking your life, not even for something dangerous" which means Crowleys life is more important to him than getting into trouble with the other angels.

. If your volume is up super high(we had a loud thunderstorm) you will hear "I..... Lo..... I forgive you" now you might think I'm hearing things but I'm not. If you slow the scene down and watch Aziraphale's mouth and tongue placement he IS saying the letter L not F. He couldn't possibly say I love you infront of metatron though, could you imagine what would happen? So he says I forgive you. It's the only way he could safely say "I Love You" without making the whole thing with Metadickhead worse.

. He grabs his lip and presses into it replicating the kiss! This doesn't add much to my rant, just thought it was super cute because it shows how much he enjoyed it and knows that he won't feel that again for a very long time, if ever.

[banquetwriter]

i love the way you write viktor sm sm 🫡 if you feel up to it, id love to see some more of your domestic headcanons! also, do you think either viktor's partner and jayce get jealous of each other? lmao i like imagining a silent passive aggression n rivalry between anyone dating viktor and jayce.

keep up the great work!!!!

AN: AHH ONG THANK YOU 🙏 i’m new to the arcane fandom + writing viktor so i feared my depiction of him was super ooc so im glad people like it haha

now i don’t think jayce would hate you or anything, but he would certainly be weary… since i am an avid jayvik shipper and he is def in love w/ his “partner” he would ofc be upset he is with someone else !

however however he isn’t down right mean to you. being blunt with you, dismissing what you say and asking viktor if he is sure about you is the most he would go

that is if you treated viktor good if you treated him bad (which idk why you would) oh boy you’d have a whole can of whoopass coming to be delivered

using his counselor powers he’d def make sure your life sucks lmfao 😭😭

however once you prove that you really do love viktor with your entire heart and your nothing but kind to jayce im sure after a while he will have to face the reality that your not going away and also he actually kinda likes you

you can keep up with all the hextech shit and no matter what always care about viktor and cmon what else can ask for?

as far as you being jealous i’m sure you would even if you aren’t to typically get jealous. it’s clear not only in his words but his whole life viktor loves jayce even if it isn’t romantic anymore (cuz ur there duh)

at first you were super confused why his lab “partner” was lowkey a bitch to you. you understood viktor has pretty much no romantic experience and he’s probably just looking out for his friend

it wouldn’t be until jayce has finally warmed up to you and shared some old story of him and viktor that you would understand that he loved him. like loved him loved him it wasn’t just platonic

“oh y/n! i am almost done with my work for today, just give me a second and i’ll be right out!” viktor said removing an (honestly) goofy looking pair of goggles he was using to make small adjustments to a project he was working on.

“take your time!” you chime as viktor hobbles away with his cane. you are left alone with jayce waiting for your love to be done. you turn to jayce and with a polite smile you nod to him.

jayce nods back not meeting your eye. after a moment jayce sighs. “you know he never used to leave this much until you showed up.” jayce said with a small sad smile. you smile down at your feet. “yes i’m well aware he loves to tell me how much he has a work i can only assume it consumed his whole life” you admit.

jayce looks down before speaking again, “usually it was me pulling him out of his work. forcing him to eat, sleep whatever it was.” jayce sighs almost defeated.

you smile again, brighter this time. “he also told me that.” you say. jayce chuckles before rubbing his hand against his jaw. “you know sometimes it felt like a loosing battle to get him to take care of himself. it still is. i never gave up because he was my- still is my everything.” jayce admits.

his confession lays heavy in the air. realization hits of what exactly he means. your face falls realizing how much it must hurt to be around you. before you can’t speak you hear viktor walking out of wherever he went.

“oh! you two are talking, how nice.” viktor teases as he walks up to you. you shake your head with a smile. “you go ahead i’ll be right behind you.” viktor smiles with a curious expression but leaves you alone with jayce.

you flung your arms around the man. jayce stumbles back confused but eventually hugs you back. “thank you.” was all you whispered to him before leaving returning side by side with viktor. “what were you two discussing?” he asks not meeting your eyes.

“we were plotting evil against you.” you say with a small smile, viktor only rolls his eyes.

anyways to conclude that i think like you said it’s a silent sort of one sided beef on jayce’s part but eventually it ends (for the most part lol)

as far as what viktor feelings on the matter he can obviously tell it’s strained between you too but reassures both of you that either one of you just want the best for him

he does not like conflict and def gets anxious when both of yall share the same space.

however a small (teeny tiny) part of him is grateful. he hasn’t ever had many people in his life let alone two people (almost) fighting over him, but again a small part he is mostly anxious

as far as domestic stuff goes he def lets you fidget with his fingers. in private ofc. you slowly massage his fingers when your concentrating on something and while he pretends he is reading the page hasn’t been turned in the last 5 minutes because he is solely focus on you

you become his whole world and god he cannot get over how you are his. or that he is yours! i’ve talked a lot about how you take care of him which is true

you help him with his brace, cooking, cleaning all the normal life stuff but something i haven’t touched too much on his how he takes care of you

just because he is disabled does not mean he is weak by any means. he always always always makes sure the house and you are at the perfect tempature.

he will braid small chunks in your hair if it’s long enough, he’ll get your toothbrush ready for you, make sure to have all of your favorite things at the house

takes advantage of piltover’s plentiful arts and brings home things of your interest.

i’m a firm believer that viktor looks like an old man when he sleeps with a long shirt and long pants, which is cute till he radiates heat like a damn furnace at night

you resort to sleeping in just a shirt and underwear. which drives viktor a tad wild. seeing you shuffle out of bed and your ass is already out? he is in heaven.

if you do not have a loving family let’s pretend for a second you do (bc same bestie same) and picture viktor getting personally invited to the holidays by your father.

he’s never been so nervous and excited. i’m not sure what holidays exactly but something that required the whole family which includes him.

he of course is overwhelmed at how many people there are. you eventually leave him to fend for himself when your family needs you to help prepare something

he is terrified but when you come back he is getting his ear talked off by one of your baby cousins. so all is well.

he is mostly scared of being judged by your family (and in this head cannon they never would) but to his shock he is accepted! just like how you accepted him.

your family just like you never ever once made him feel bad for his disability or his appearance or anything ever !

domestic life has not been common for viktor but now that he has you, you have fought for it to be his every day