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OH MY GOD WHERE HAVE U BEEN???
IN THE TRENCHES BRUH
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Dude my chapters just keep getting LONGER AND LONGER
#writing#writer#I'm writing this book because my toe is broken and i need something to do.#the ao3 curse hit me and my birthday when absolutely horribly as well
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When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 1/?
God I'm a sucker for a soulmate au. (AO3) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)
Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn
Wordcount: 2347
Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.
Other info: About this au - Soulmates find each other through touch, which establishes a mental link that lets feelings through, and if solid and built up enough over time, simple thoughts/words can also come through. Some bonds are purely platonic, about ⅓ in total. Multiple soulmates are not unheard of, but rare, more common with platonic soulmates.
Quickly about the reader - mercenary/gunman/thug for hire. Great shot with pretty much any gun, has two knives as backup weapons, has fought with swords before. Looks wise he has hair and is shorter than Wade and Logan, but I try to keep no specific height in mind while writing. Has a few scars scattered over his body, but nothing specific as of yet. Does not want a soulmate, thinks it just leaves people vulnerable. Lives on his own in an apartment he owns and is content with his life.
All you were, really, was hired help.
All you were supposed to do was stand around and look scary with a few other tugs in a warehouse with high shelves stacked with crates, while your employer (a generous word for the drug dealer that hired you) met with another drug dealer.
It had gone tits up the second a man wearing a red and black spandex suit and katanas on his back of all things came crashing through a window.
You had dived for cover, because there are gunshots ringing out in the milliseconds after the glass shatters. You curse, reaching for your gun, with just one single 10 bullet magazine, because your stupid employer had insisted you only needed one when you asked for more. So to have something more you had your adamantium knives strapped to each thigh, hidden enough under your black joggers.
You curse under your breath, cause this is fucking awful. You hear gunshots over and over again, people are dying, wood from shipping crates are splintering, metal is hitting the floor.
And there’s talking.
Fucking talking.
“Come one guys, your aim is all off! Did none of you ever train on the neighborhood cats?”
Well, more like yelling. Because even though the warehouse wasn’t empty, it still had an echo. You are used to the loud sounds, it fuels your adrenaline as you peek out from behind the crate you are using as a shield.
The man, you are just going to call him Red for now, is flipping and bouncing between crates, avoiding any big hits. A few bullets graze an arm, but he doesn’t seem to take notice as his own bullets find their marks, bodies dropping around him. He’s nimble and quick about it, taking down guys from both sides with equal gusto, and you find yourself just watching him carefully. He’s almost elegant, light on his feet, and a jab or taunt spewing out of his mouth every few bullets.
Careful not to alert Red or anyone else about your position, you shift, gun in hand watching him saunter over to your employer, the last man standing. Well, not really, since he’s down on his knees, begging for something incoherent while fat tears and snot roll down his face.
“Newsflash asshole, I don’t care for your tragic backstory that the writer won’t let you talk about.” Red raises his gun, one last loud bang filling the warehouse before it’s quiet once again.
“Last fucking one, my counting skills once again making me win.” Red claps his hands together, before moving his hands to his hips, looking around the warehouse. “What a fucking mess.” He shakes his head, and you see your opportunity now that he thinks it’s all over.
You move up, pulling the trigger as soon as your gun is aimed right. Red doesn’t even get to turn before six bullets go through his chest, two through his throat, and the last two finding their mark in his skull. You shouldn’t use all your bullets on one target like that, but still you do. Red drops like a sack of potatoes, and you draw a sigh of relief, lowering your gun as you too look around the warehouse. You’re glad it’s far away from anything else, because it should take at least a few hours before the cops are alerted, and by that time you would be far away from this warehouse that is by now covered in blood, bullet casings, and dead men.
Your earlier relief turns into utter confusion as you hear shuffling, and when you turn back towards where Red’s body is, you see him shake his head where he lays crumpled on the floor, and seconds later he’s on his feet with a groan.
“Okay, good shot whoever that was.” You gape, words slipping out of your mouth without meaning to.
“What the fuck.” Red’s head snaps towards you.
“Oh, there you are.” His voice is light, almost like he’s halfway into song. “I would return the favor, but I’m fresh out of bullets so this will have to do.” He pulls out the katanas strapped to his back. You grab your knives, managing, somehow by the grace of whatever runs this universe, to bring it out just in time to block both katanas that were coming at you in tight formation.
“Oh so you weren’t just happy to see me.” Red jokes, and though you can’t see his face under the mask, you are pretty sure he is grinning. You grunt, because there is no way for your brain to form words as you parry another attack from him, retreating.
You are in no position to attack, so all you do is stop his, and try to escape, backing off. Or rather, you try to, but Red is not letting up, so all you end up doing is walking backwards through the warehouse in a vague path between boxes and shelves as he attacks.
He manages to get a few slashes here and there to connect, but they are shallow, just enough to draw blood and sting. One on your left arm, two on your right arm, three on your left leg. You wonder if amounts are on purpose. He seems to take it all as encouragement, laughing, keeping up his quick attacks.
You don’t know you hold out, breathing heavy, arms and hands hurting with how you are clutching and shielding with your knives like your life depends on it.
Because it 1000% fucking does, that’s why you manage.
Red finally lets up, just enough that you can create some space between the two of you. You don’t dare to actually turn and run, certain he has no moral code of cutting down someone from behind. So you just try to slowly create even more room between the two of you as you watch for his next attack.
“Oh I am having fun!” Red tries to clap, but he just knocks the hilts of his katanas together. “Though we are just a little unevenly matched here.” He sounds like he’s breathing just a little bit harder at least, even though there are no cuts next to the bullet holes riddling his suit. He tilts his head for a moment, then bends down, and then there’s a katana sliding over the floor, bumping into your boot. You look down at it, before looking back up at him.
“Come on, pick it up.” Shifting your knives into one hand, you keep your eyes on the white eyes of his mask as you bend down and pick up the sword.
“Oh yeah, look at me during.” You ignore his comment, feeling the weight of the katana in your hand. It’s heavy, but perfectly balanced, feeling perfect as you spin it in your hand a few times, the hilt still warm from Red’s earlier hold.
“Hot.” Red says as he twirls his second katana, mimicking you. Once more ignoring him, you put your knives back in their sheats. “Do you have them there to distract your enemies by making them think you are going to jerk off mid-battle?” You snort.
“No, they are there so they are more hidden, and more difficult to grab.”
“If you wanted my hands in your pants all you had to do was ask, baby.” You think Red is winking at you through the mask. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Shut the fuck up.” With both of your hands on the hilt of the katana, you are ready to defend yourself from his first attack.
“Ohhh, you remind me of someone. I think the two of you would get along, he’s also a man of few words. Maybe I’ll let you live so you can meet him and fight him too, more material for my spank bank.” He definitely winks this time, then you are defending yourself from another attack from him. It pushes you backwards, again, but this time, you are able to attack back.
Though you can’t help but wonder if he’s letting you, just indulging you. Because you can feel how strong he is when you parry his strikes, you felt how strong he was when all you had was your knives.
It’s a dance, a dance he lets you participate in as you block, attack, block, attack, block. Redirecting his sword coming for your throat so it splinters wood instead of flesh.
“How did you learn to fight like this?” Wade asks, almost spinning as his energy is redirected away from your body. He is at least breathing a little heavier, and for some reason, you find yourself having a little fun, even though you think you know how this is going to end.
“I was a loser in high school. What about you?” You speak through gritted teeth, the sound of metal on metal filling the warehouse as you block another attack. You don’t even know why you ask him back, but it feels right.
“Something similar.” It’s still kinda hard to tell, but you think he grins under his mask as you attack back.
You do get a few cuts in, deep enough that it slices through his suit and the skin underneath, but it leaves you with little satisfaction as you see the cuts heal in seconds. Though at least his suit can’t fix itself, growing more tattered by the minute as new slashes and old bullet holes make a mess of it.
“So you are not just a pretty face, there’s some skills there.” You frown, anger flaring, and you are about to say something, but with a quick move that you have no opportunity to block, and that truly demonstrates the difference between the two of you, he nicks you with just the tip of the katanta, just on the left corner of your mouth. You startle, but on instinct your tongue goes out to lick at the blood now sliding down to your skin. It just gives you more motivation to strike back, a big one that leaves behind what could almost be called a titty window on his chest, showing textured skin underneath.
“Ohhhh, freaky.” Red taunts, slicing your chest too, though your skin doesn’t heal when metal connects after slicing through your shirt like air. You curse, adrenaline causing your ears to roar, and the world to go a little fuzzy at the edges. You touch your chest, fingers coming back bloody, watching Red. Your own katana pointing towards the floor, ready, but down as you breathe heavily.
“Leaving yourself all open for me? You shouldn’t have.” Red coos, and that is what you are counting on. Letting him attack you straight on, thinking you have given up, so you can shove the katana through his skull, killing him again, and leaving you at least a few moments to high tail it out of there.
It’s what the plan is.
It does not work out like you intend it to.
It goes in a whole new direction.
Because when he comes close enough, you manage to get a hold on his shoulder, which gets you a hopefully not deadly slice over your abdomen for your efforts. You are moving quickly, seconds away from stabbing the katana through the bottom of his jaw. But then your fingers touch a bare spot on his shoulder where his suit had gotten torn, and there’s a sparkler going off in your brain, a sizzling sensation that settles in the back of your head as feelings of excitement, adrenaline, and happiness that are not your own speeds through your mind.
You gasp out loud.
You can’t help yourself.
Because you know what that was.
And there is no fucking way.
WHAT. THE. ABSOLUTE.
FUCK.
Fucking no.
A soulmate.
You have a fucking soulmate??????
And this is how you fucking meet him????
In all of your turmoil, you have dropped the katana that was destined to go through Red’s skull. He is a few paces behind you, not immediately attacking, just watching you as you turn around in your now mostly frozen state.
“Wh-”
“Touch me.” Red blinks, owlishly even with the white eyes of his mask.
“Wow, so forward. You know, con-”
“Shut the fuck up.” You march over to him, and in what seems to be confusion he lets you tug the glove of his hand that is not holding his katana. You interlace your fingers, the motion absurdly tender for the moment that is currently playing out. You see his eyes widen behind the mask, and you are sure his mouth opens and closes several times even hidden as it is.
“What the fuck.” The words are so soft out his mouth that you are not even sure he said them. Not that it matters, because a second later he is wrenching his hand back like you burned him. He runs past you, and you watch as he picks up his katana where you dropped it, and then keeps running after that brief slowdown, heading towards a door you hadn’t noticed while you were fighting. You startle yourself into action finally, following him, but he’s out the door before you can reach him.
On the other side there’s a hallway, and his back is quickly retreating, and all you feel is panic. You are not sure which of you it is coming from.
You try to keep up with him through multiple hallways, but he’s fast, getting out of the building before you do. It’s enough of a headstart that you only see backlights and hear the roar of a motorcycle speeding away.
You run over to where the cars you all arrived in earlier are parked, but of fucking course all tires are slashed. Not like you had any of the keys anyway, but they would have been easy enough to find in some dead man's pockets.
“Fucking MOTHERFUCKER!” You know he can’t hear you, but you hope Red feels your frustration through your bond as you punch the hood of a car, denting the metal.
(Part 2)
#wolverine x reader x deadpool#logan howlett x male reader#wolverine x male reader#logan howlett x reader#wade wilson x male reader#wade wilson x reader#wolverine x reader#deadpool x male reader#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#wolverine fic#deadpool fic#marvel fic#deadpool and wolverine fic#male!reader#written#male reader#wolverine x deadpool x reader#when you touch me#wytm
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Jordan as a secret Ao3 hardcore smut writer. Like, explicit kinky no beta we die like men death dove do not eat fanfic about characters in the novels they read (cofRaulandJanetcofcof). Yet they still look at you with the most innocent and calm smile you've ever seen even after getting caught.
They are just writing to practice their skills and caution people about the dangers of lust, after all...
Whitney with a secret youtube channel where they unbox plush toys. Sometimes unboxes Barbie collection dolls or even cute onesies. They don't show their face.
Had to start using a voice changer because someone almost recognized them once.
(Also always falls for the claw machine shit whenever they see a cute plushie they really REALLY want. Curses under their breath each time they fail to get it. Might hit the machine out of frustration, too)
Kylar using The Sims to plan their perfect life with you. Downloaded a shit tons of mods to customize your character to perfection. (And of course they have Wicked Whims on it. C'mon, is that really a question?)
Drowned every sim that tried to talk to you. Firmly believes that a happy life with you in the sims must be a sign that you two will end up married in real life (Kinda like an amarre of some sorts)
Busy me having some brainrot that I wanted to draw yet I am still unable to (Sighh)
#dol#moth rambles#kylar the loner#jordan the pious#whitney the bully#degrees of lewdity#I WANT TO BE FREE FROM THIS TORTURE#aaaaaa#cries#Also Bratz are the superior dolls#just saying...
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ink and blood (strawberries pt. 3)
hey guys! sorry it’s been so long, i finished the fic but then someone stole my laptop and phone (i had to get new ones) and i got locked out of my email!! it's totally giving ao3 writer but anyways. enjoy <3
summary: this time it was you who broke, not your ink pot.
content: violence, cursing, fluff, lowkey emotional crisis, i think that’s it? idk, sirius is an asshole in this (shocker….)
wc: 2.7k (there was more but i hated it all so i deleted it so expect a part 4 by the end of this year if you’re lucky)
Sirius stormed out of Gryffindor Tower, running right into Remus, who tried stopping him for an explanation. The act was pointless, of course, as Sirius shoved past him and went straight to James.
“Give me the map,” Sirius said.
“Why?” James asked, slightly hesitant.
“James. Give me the map,” Sirius repeated, anger rooted deep within his words.
James eyed the boy briefly, turning to look at Remus before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the folded piece of parchment. Before he could even say a word, Sirius snatched the map out of his hands and disappeared down the corridor, leaving his two friends behind.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Sirius muttered under his breath, his wand pointed to the now unfolded map. Just as always, ink appeared on the page and painted the familiar picture of the Marauder's Map, along with each and every corner of the school. Sirius’ dark eyes scanned across the parchment, looking for the name of his brother. Finding the name he was looking for, Sirius headed towards the Great Hall, watching on the map as his brother exited the hall and started walking his way. In a matter of minutes, Sirius and Regulus were just a corner away from running into each other.
Regulus had no time to process his brother's presence as he rounded the corner, failing to dodge Sirius’ swing at his jaw, the punch leaving him to stumble back roughly. The younger Black brother looked up, hand instinctively going up to the numb area of his face as he caught the eyes of his brother.
Sirius was far from over, however, as he launched himself at Regulus, knocking him to the floor and landing punch after punch onto the body and face of his brother. Regulus struggled beneath his older brother, continuously trying and failing to get Sirius off of him. Sirius, blinded by rage, only hit Regulus harder the more he tried to push him away.
When Regulus was finally able to muster up the strength to shove Sirius off of him, he scrambled away from him, leaning against a wall as he struggled to stand.
“What the hell, Sirius?” Regulus exclaimed, a shake in his voice as the pain engulfed him.
“How could you? I saw the letter you wrote to her, Regulus, why can’t you just leave her alone?” Sirius shouted, his throat threatening to close up as he shook the letter at his brother.
“I- that was a private letter, Sirius,” Regulus said weakly, heart dropping to his stomach.
“If you don’t shut up, so help me Godric, I will kill you,” Sirius said darkly, pushing himself up from where Regulus had shoved him and walking towards him.
Regulus was more prepared this time, albeit, significantly more bloody, and stumbled toward Sirius to defend himself. It was Sirius, again, who made the first swing, hitting Regulus square in the nose, followed by a crack. Regulus was surprisingly quick to respond, even with blood now gushing from his nose, and threw a punch that landed on Sirius’ cheek.
“You little fucker-“ Sirius muttered, preparing to hit Regulus only to keel over when the younger Black brother hit him in the stomach.
It was then that Professor McGonagall appeared from around the corner, greeted by the sight of Regulus’ bloodied and bruised face and Sirius still hunched over from the hit to his gut, hair covering the bruise beginning to form on his cheek. She was quick to put herself between the brothers in case another fight started.
“What in Godric’s name is going on here?” She exclaimed, furious.
After what felt like an hour of being chewed out by Professor McGonagall and losing their respective houses 100 points, they went their separate ways, Sirius going to the Gryffindor common room and Regulus going to the Slytherin common room.
When Sirius entered the common room, he looked over to the couches where he saw you, Marlene, Lily, Remus, James, and Peter all sitting in silence. You noticed his presence first, jumping up when you saw his face.
“Good Godric, what the hell happened to you?” Your hands instinctively reached towards his face as you stepped towards him.
“Why don’t you fuss over your little boyfriend instead?” Sirius said hostilely, slapping your hand away from his face.
Your hands dropped to your sides, face falling as well.
“You guys fought?” You asked quietly.
Sirius didn’t answer, only turning around and walking up to his dorm, faithfully followed by James, Peter, and Remus.
You still hadn’t moved, but you could feel your heart beating in your stomach, nauseous at the thought of Sirius and Regulus fighting because of you. Your chest heaved, trying to calm yourself before you ran out of Gryffindor tower, feet carrying you down to the dungeons and to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. You looked around, spotting a first-year in green robes walking past you, running up to him and pleading for the code.
Once you entered the Slytherin common rooms, you ran past the people scattered around the room and went straight up to Regulus’s dorm.
Regulus looked up from where he was sitting on his bed as you entered his dormitory and you couldn’t help the shocked gasp that escaped you when you saw his face. His jaw was bruised a dark purple, the skin around his eye slowly turning a similar shade of violet, blood still dripping from his nose, and more bruises across his body. Those, of course, were only the injuries you could see.
“Oh, Regulus,” You whispered, approaching his bed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you in between his legs so his head was against your chest and your hands gently combed through his curls. You stayed like that for a while, Regulus listening to the beating of your heart as you stroked his back, not caring about the blood stain that was certainly appearing on your jumper.
“Let’s clean you up, love,” You said, pulling away from the hug. You placed a brief kiss on his lips before entering the bathroom, grabbing and wetting a washcloth for the blood.
Sitting next to him on his bed, you gently wiped the blood off Regulus’s face, apologizing profusely whenever he winced. The entire time you were cleaning his face off, his eyes were trained on your face, tracing over your features.
“You look really pretty,” Regulus whispered to you, holding back a grin upon seeing you blush and watching a small smile gracing your face.
“Reg, you should be focusing on yourself and not me,” You responded with a breathy laugh.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked, making you pause.
“I’m not mad at you Regulus,” You answered, cupping his face with your hand and stroking it gently with your thumb. Regulus leaned into your touch, eyes briefly fluttering shut.
“Alright, don’t fall asleep on me, darling, I still have to check out your bruises,” You said softly, laughing when Regulus groaned, “I promise I’ll let you sleep after.”
You stood up from his bed, a bit reluctantly if you were being honest, and began helping him take off his jumper. Regulus’ light grey jumper, which you had gifted him for Christmas, keeping his neutral-colored closet in mind, was now decorated with droplets of his blood. Once his jumper and undershirt were removed, you let out a sigh. His stomach and chest were littered with bruises, some bigger and darker, others smaller and lighter.
“Damnit, you got beat, huh?” You muttered teasingly, “I’m sorry, Reg.”
“‘S alright, just come lay with me, dove,” Regulus mumbled as he tugged you down onto the bed with him, laying so that you were facing each other.
You tugged the dark green blankets over your bodies, settling back down on the bed, your head right next to his own, his dark curls falling onto the pillow as he turned onto his side to look at you.
“I love you,” You whispered, your nervous eyes looking into his gray ones. You relaxed, though, as you watched his bruised face spread into a smitten smile.
“I love you too,” Regulus whispered back, still grinning.
You lifted your head, just enough to move it an inch from Regulus’s, and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was slow and sweet, your noses gently nudging one another as your lips moved. Your hand gently reaching for his curls to pull him closer as you smiled into the kiss. After Regulus pulled away, he curled his body into yours, his head tucked in the crook of your shoulder, arm draped over your waist, while you let your hands travel along his warm back and through his dark, curly hair. In that position, it didn’t take long for Regulus to fall asleep, with you following soon after.
You and Regulus slept the afternoon away, cuddled together until Evan entered the dorm around 4 o’clock, interrupting your sleep. After the boy mentioned the time, you soon realized you had disappeared from Gryffindor Tower for six hours with no explanation.
“Do you have to go?” Regulus asked, trying to pull you back into bed with him as you sighed deeply.
“Yeah, I do. I’ll see you later, Reg, I love you,” You said, turning to pull him into a kiss.
“I love you too. Don’t let Sirius get to you too much,” Regulus said after pulling away from the kiss, watching in a lovesick daze as you left the room. When he turned to Evan, who was still in the room, he snapped out of it, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“‘I love you too.’ Since when did you start saying I love you and why haven’t I heard about it?” Evan questioned, imitating Regulus’s voice as he plopped down on his bed expectantly.
“You’re such a drama queen,” Regulus joked, earning an eye roll from his friend.
“Don’t you dare call me a drama queen,” Evan said, pointing a finger threateningly at the smirking boy.
When you entered the Gryffindor common room, you were met with the sight of a sulking Sirius holding a towel of ice to his cheek. You both looked at each other, entering a brief staring match before Sirius broke the silence.
“Did you have fun with my little brother?” Sirius asked bitterly, glaring.
“Dear Godric, Sirius, will you stop with that? I was cleaning him up after you almost broke his nose!” You exclaimed, anger rising by the moment.
“Oh, yeah, because wiping some blood off his face takes six hours,” Sirius remarked.
“You know what, Sirius? Fuck you. You went and beat up your own brother because he’s in love with your friend? It’s fucking sad,” You snapped, eyes narrowing on the black-haired boy.
“Oh, so you two are in love now? Regulus doesn’t love people, he’s playing you and you’re too fucking stupid to see it,” Sirius said, standing up so he was in front of you, ice left on the couch.
You said nothing, only letting your hand fly to his already bruised face and slap it, Sirius’ head turning to the side at the force of your hand. Slowly, he turned to face you once more, staring into your eyes.
“Don’t you dare say shit like that again, Sirius Black, or you’ll get a whole lot more than a slap,” You threatened, face hardened in a scowl as you pushed him back and away from you.
You turned, shouldering past Marlene and Lily, who were standing on the staircase with wide eyes, and stalked up to your dormitory, slamming the wooden door shut behind you. You looked around the room and at the floor by your bed, where your belongings were still scattered and your ink pot was still broken. The dark ink had sunk into the floorboards, staining the wood black.
You began cleaning your part of the dorm, picking everything up by hand despite knowing you could easily use magic, knowing you needed to focus on something or else you would start bawling. The broken pieces of the inkpot, which were still dripping ink, were the last things you picked up off of the floor. A small piece of the glass, so small that you had almost missed it on the wood, sliced through the still-stinging skin of your palm, crimson rising to the surface. You didn’t move, eyes trained on the blood that was dripping from your hand and landing next to the black dots of ink on the floorboards.
You only broke out of your trance when you heard the door to your dorm opening, your roommate, Lana, entering.
“You alright?” She asked, catching your eyes as you looked up from your hand, which she quickly noticed, “Merlin, what happened? Come on, let’s clean that.”
You dropped the shards of glass, which were now covered in both ink and blood, into the garbage and let Lana lead you into the bathroom to clean your cut. She rinsed your hand off before gently cleaning the cut. When Lana finished cleaning it, she wrapped it and bandaged it before turning to leave.
“Thank you, Lana,” You said gratefully, smiling softly at your roommate as she paused in the doorway.
“Always, it’s what friends are for,” Lana responded, returning your smile.
Lana was on her bed reading a book when you finally left the bathroom to return to cleaning. With your hand now bandaged, you waved your wand and watched the black and red spots disappear off of the mahogany wood.
It was then, as you lay on your bed, that you found yourself wishing your conscience could be wiped clean as easily as the wood was. Every time you shut your eyes, images of Regulus’s body covered in purple and blue marks plagued your mind, alongside the unforgettable sight of Sirius’ bruised face twisted in anger as you slapped him.
Your eyes flew open, focusing on the ceiling while you tried to blink the images out of your mind. You turned your head to Lana, who was already looking at you with a perplexed gaze.
"Why is he like this? Sirius, I mean. I get that he's mad but, Lana, you should've seen the bruises Regulus had, Sirius hurt him so much," You whispered to your roommate.
“There never really is a good answer in situations like this, just that people get blinded by their anger and do bad things. I’m not excusing Sirius’s actions, Godric no, but he definitely wasn’t thinking straight,” Lana answered tentatively, placing her book on her nightstand.
“I just don’t know what to do now,” You whispered, eyes clouded with tears as you looked away from Lana, “Sirius and Regulus were already on bad enough terms as it was, but now they’re getting in fights and it’s all my fault.”
Lana said nothing, only getting up from her bed and moving to yours, pulling you into a hug. She kept her arms around you as your body shook with sobs, the harsh reality of the situation hitting you like a truck.
Everything has changed.
So much had happened over the past week- everyone found out you and Regulus were dating, you got banned from seeing him, Sirius ransacked your room and then fought with Regulus, you slapped Sirius, and now you were here. Crying in your roommate’s arms.
“I feel like all I’m doing is hurting people. I hurt Sirius and betrayed his trust. I’m the reason Regulus and Sirius got in that fight. Bloody hell, I slapped Sirius,” You cried, your breath stuttering as you spoke.
“Listen to me, this isn’t all your fault. You aren’t doing this to hurt people. Sometimes, things don’t always go the way they should and that’s just a part of life. Regulus loves you and you love him, it’s only a matter of time before Sirius sees that and he’s just gonna have to learn to accept it,” Lana said firmly, “And he will accept it, trust me. He might be mad now but he’s not going to lose you over this.”
You couldn’t even respond at that point, your body shaking with tears and sobs as Lana hugged you.
#regulus black x reader#marauders x reader#regulus x reader#marauders fanfiction#regulus black#harry potter#marauders
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The Ao3 writer curse is real cause I myself once wrote a thing saying:
"I LIVE EVERYONE (sadly). THE DEVIL DOESN'T WANT ME YET.
Sooo... I know I disappeared last August (when I usually posted a few fics regularly), and it's CHRISTMAS SEASON 😳???? Long story short, crap hit the fan real fast and hard. My grandfather died, I myself was in the hospital, my friends left me because of a shitty rumor. I honestly totally forgot about Ao3 during that time 😅.
But then I took an Advil for my metaphorical pain, and realized I forgot the great poets advice. "The grind doesn't stop until I say it does." So I'm back, sorry for disappearing when the fandom needed me most."
The Ao3 writer curse is the only superstition I believe in /hj
😭😭I just hope the curse is done with you
#why do the gods hate fic writers…#come hell or high water they will write#the devil works hard but fic writers work harder#archive of our own
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when the sun loves the moon
this ravioli fic is brought 2 u by chappell roan's "Hot To Go". the ao3 writer curse hit us btw. our hand is broken lol. this is so fucking long i dont know what happened it was supposed to be short.....
ao3 link; x
Legend hums, messing with the bracelet around his wrist. Not Ravio’s one—that one is far too thick for him to be able to fiddle with it easily—but a different, smaller one on the other wrist.
The second one—the one he’s playing with—is much smaller and simpler. It’s made of black rope, and has a small golden charm attached to it in the shape of a sun.
Ravio brought it back from Lorule after one of his visits. There was a moon-shaped one, too, but Ravio has that one. Legend doesn’t mind. He thinks the sun-bracelet is pretty.
He doesn’t really know why Ravio gave it to him, though. He just kind of showed up back home, gave Legend the bracelet, and never talked about it. It was a little weird, but this is Ravio. There is nothing about that man that isn’t weird.
That thought is nothing but fond.
He kinda misses him. He always does. Doesn’t matter how many times he’s had to travel and leave Ravio behind—he always misses him.
Deep down somewhere inside his chest is a part of him that’s scared that Ravio will be gone by the time he comes back.
He does his best to ignore it. Ravio wouldn’t leave without telling him—he knows that much.
“Your bracelet’s pretty,”Hyrule hums quietly, watching the veteran mess with it as they walk. “Where’d you get it?”
“Oh, uh. It was a gift.”Legend explains with a shrug. “Ravio brought it back from Lorule. He’s got the other one.”
“Other one?”
“It came in a set. The other one’s got a moon on it.”
“You and Ravio have fucking couple bracelets?”Four pipes up, and Legend goes a little quiet. A couple bracelet? No way, they’re not even together. Ravio doesn’t like Legend that way, and Legend doesn’t like Ravio that way either.
Or, well, he doesn’t think he does? It’s a little confusing and Legend doesn’t have time to unpack all that. He’ll probably never have the time to unpack that mess. It’s the emotional equivalent of moving all the things from his storage-shed around—lots of effort and very messy, best to just not do.
So he shakes his head with a snort. “No, Four, that’s not what they are. Rav’s literally just my roommate.”
Four doesn’t look convinced in the slightest. Honestly, Legend can’t even find it in him to be annoyed about that. He knows he and Ravio are a little weird, to the point that even his own sister thought they were dating for a while.
He wants to say she was just being hopeful and that she didn’t seriously think that he and Ravio were together.
“Don’t look at me like that,”Legend rolls his eyes. “It’s just a bracelet, Four. Nothing special.”
Four just snorts at him. “Sure.”
He decides that he isn’t going to respond to Four anymore. Why should he? Four’s just being dumb anyways.
“Why a sun?”Hyrule tilts his head, curious.
“I think Rav just gave me this one cause the charm is gold. The moon one is silver.”Legend shrugs. He never gets explanations as to why Ravio does things, and the reasoning behind the specifics of the bracelet is no exception, so really he’s just guessing.
The healer nods along with the explanation. Pauses for a second, then, “How long’ve you been friends for?”
Wonderful question—Legend doesn’t know. He can’t remember when he’d started welcoming the other man’s presence, when he stopped getting annoyed by the other being there. He doesn’t know how, or when, Ravio became something akin to home.
That thought catches him off guard, just a bit. He thinks Ravio is home, now? That’s…definitely a new development.
“A while,”He starts with a shrug, ignoring his own mind as he regards the other hero. “Known him for about five years now.”He thinks so, anyway. How old is he, again? He thinks 19, might be 18 though. He’ll ask someone else when he can.
“Is he your best friend then?”
Legend could laugh at that idea. He doesn’t. Instead, he just shakes his head. “No. He isn’t my best friend. That title belongs to someone else, and she really is not willing to share it.”
He did bring it up to Styla once; not about Ravio, specifically, but just in general. She got all pouty and dramatic at the idea of sharing the best friend title, so he’s never really tried that since.
It’s not like it matters a whole lot. He never really had anyone in mind the first time he brought it up, and he doesn’t exactly have anyone in mind now either.
Or, well…okay. Maybe he does. But he’s taking it to his grave. Legend is never telling Four that they’re on the same level as his current best friend.
It’d probably go to their head.
The conversation dies, Legend thinks. Admittedly, he isn’t paying much attention anymore, so they could still be trying to talk to him and he’s just not listening enough to hear.
He wonders how Ravio’s doing. In his last letter, he mentioned that summer must bring out the hero aspiration in people, so business is probably good for the merchant right now. The other is likely ecstatic about it.
Ravio said the orchard is looking good. He collected the honey from the beehive, too, but he hasn’t sold any of it. Didn’t want to in case Legend wanted to keep it. He’d told him to keep two jars, and that he can sell whatever was left. No point keeping all of it when the two can make a profit.
He knows for a fact that Ravio hasn’t actually touched the orchard, either—he never does. He knows better. Ravio just…doesn’t do it right, it drives Legend a little bit insane, so he learned to just not do it.
Maybe it’s a little mean, and a little weird, but Ravio hasn’t directly complained about it, so Legend guesses that it’s fine, since Ravio is often vocal about things he isn’t happy with. It’s surprisingly a good thing that Ravio likes to complain—it lets Legend know what’s wrong and what needs work.
Legend wonders if Ravio’s sneezing every five seconds now that it’s summer over there again. He always does it, so realistically he knows the answer is yes, but he doesn’t exactly have real proof of it happening right now.
He really just kinda wants to go home.
“You okay?”A voice snaps Legend out of his thoughts, and he turns slightly to see Sky walking with him. Four and Hyrule wandered off at some point, it seems.
“Mhmm,”The veteran hums in response, because what is there to say? He can’t tell Sky the whole truth cause he’ll get all weird and start thinking Legend is into Ravio or something too, like everyone else.
“You’re, um, playing with your bracelet a lot,”Sky notes gently, “Are you missing home?”
Legend doesn’t miss a beat as he nods, still toying with the bracelet’s charm. “It’s been way too fucking long,”He mumbles with a frown.
Sky doesn’t say anything about Legend’s previous claims of preferring life on the road. Hell, he probably knows that Legend’s home is a person rather than a place. He doesn’t say anything about that, though. Instead, he hums softly and places his arm around Legend’s shoulders. “I get it. I miss Skyloft a lot.”
Legend wants to make a comment about him really missing Sun, but he doesn’t say it for two reasons. The first, and most important, being because it would set Sky off on another ramble about her.
The second is more confusing. He’d feel hypocritical if he said anything, and Legend might be a lot of things but he doesn’t like being a hypocrite. He’s not 100% sure why he’d feel like one, but he has a vague idea that it’s because of his own current issue of missing Ravio.
It’s different, though. Legend doesn’t like Ravio the way Sky likes Sun. He doesn’t.
“Is it new?”Sky hums, reaching over and gently holding Legend’s hand so he can look at the bracelet better. “I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”
It’s not exactly new, not really, but…he guesses he hasn’t really let anyone see it, so the assumption isn’t baseless. Usually he just has it hidden under his sleeve. “Sorta. I mean, I’ve…had it for a while, but only started wearing it a little while ago,”Legend mumbles with a shrug.
The chain never really needed to know about it. It isn’t magic—just a regular bracelet—so there was no reasoning for letting them know it exists. He isn’t gonna sit down and tell them every accessory he has—they’d be there forever just on his piercings alone.
Sky nods along with Legend’s words, a soft smile on his face. Legend’s not really sure what he’s smiling about. Then, “Wanna tell me about them?”
Legend shoots him a look.
Sky takes it like he has to elaborate. “The person who gave you the bracelet. What’re they like?”
“Dad.”Legend complains, rolling his eyes. “It’s just Ravio. You know him.”
“Oh! You and Ravio are—”
“Slow your roll,”Legend cuts him off with a huff. “No. Ravio is just my roommate.”
“Oh.”Sky pauses, then frowns. He looks genuinely confused. “Really? But you two are so cute together.”
“Ugh, dad, come on.”The veteran rolls his eyes, face tinting slightly pink.
“What? You are!”Sky insists with a pout. “I think the nicknames are adorable,”
Legend wants the ground to swallow him whole. “They’re mortifying, actually.”
“He calls you honeybee. That’s so cute.”Sky ruffles Legend’s hair. “The whole ‘bunny and rabbit’ thing you two’ve got going on is adorable, too.”
Legend falls silent. Hm. So Sky’s heard that. Shit. Legend thought he was being careful enough.
“You weren’t…supposed to notice that…”Legend confesses after a brief moment, ears tilted downwards from the embarrassment. He didn’t think anyone was around when he called Ravio ‘rabbit’.
Being wrong is not a great feeling.
Sky just giggles about it. Giggles, right in front of Legend. He notices that Legend goes even more red, and just smiles more. “Awh—hey! It’s okay, you don’t have to be embarrassed. You know, I have more embarrassing nicknames for my Zelda!”
That doesn’t really make anything better, but Legend appreciates the fact that Sky at least made an attempt at comfort.
“Whatever,”Legend mumbles after a moment, “It’s not the same as yours and mama's nicknames.”
Sky hums. Legend has the idea that Sky doesn’t believe him. That idea is only solidified as Sky responds with a simple, “I’m sure.”
Legend chooses to ignore him now, too. Seriously, what’s up with them? It’s just a bracelet. It isn’t even the first gift Ravio’s ever given him.
Ravio gives him a lot of gifts, actually. Legend can’t offer much in return — Ravio doesn’t exactly have any piercings, nor does he really wear that much jewellery. All Legend can do to show appreciation for the gifts is cooking for him whenever he’s home.
Ravio says that it’s enough. Legend doesn’t particularly agree, but he doesn’t have anything else, so he just sticks to what he knows. He’s started learning how to cook Lorulean dishes too, for when Ravio’s missing Lorule. The hero’s never actually tried making one of those yet, but he’s got a cookbook that he’s been reading. If he can memorise the recipes, he’ll have an easier time when it comes to making them.
He hasn’t told Ravio about that part yet. Doesn’t know how Ravio would even react to that. He wouldn’t be upset by it, he doesn’t think. He’d probably get too affectionate about it, though. Every time Legend does something that Ravio really likes, the merchant gets weird and doesn’t leave him alone for a little while. Always keeps close to him for at least a day or two afterwards.
Ravio never explained it ; Legend never asked.
It’s just one of those unwritten things about them. There’s a long, mental list that Legend has that’s just filled with unwritten things that Ravio does. Ravio has a written list about things Legend does. He knows because he found it while cleaning up their room. …he’s pretty observant, but Legend supposes that it’s hard to miss things when you share a space with them. Especially for so long.
It would probably be more concerning if Ravio knew nothing about him, to be honest. Legend being cagey doesn’t translate over to the little things — the stuff Ravio’s written down. The fact it’s all written down on physical paper does make him a little embarrassed though. Some of those habits are intended to be taken to the grave, thank you, and putting it into a physical form is not taking it to the grave, Ravio, that actually makes it harder to take to the grave.
He hates him sometimes and he really does mean that in the most affectionate way possible. He doesn’t actually know what he would do if Ravio left now — he’s gotten far too used to the other being around. The stupid part of his mind tells him that he would simply stop existing. The rational part tells him that he would go into isolation again. Neither is very helpful, actually. Or particularly great. Hell, at least the rational part usually tells him he’d be fine. Fucks up with that part today? Just because it’s true doesn’t mean he wanted to hear it.
Legend tries not to let the homesickness show on his face, fingers tracing over the small, golden charm. It’s a small comfort. Both bracelets are somewhat comforting — even if he still doesn’t like that the chunkier bracelet smells like Twilight. It’s something he, unfortunately, grew used to. Ravio did say that he’d probably get used to it eventually, so it isn’t like he wasn’t warned about it.
Having it on just gives him a false sense of security — he feels safe with it, even though it realistically can’t do much in terms of protection. Neither of the bracelets can…he doesn’t think? The matching one has a strange aura that Legend can’t figure out. It’s magic, that much he knows. He’s just not really sure what type of magic it is, or what it does.
Little frustrating, but of course it is. Ravio, one of the most frustrating men that Legend has ever met, gave the thing to him, of course it’s frustrating. He’d ask about it but he wouldn’t get an answer. Hell, Ravio never answers questions half of the time. Thinks he’s really funny, and he’s only right about that one every so often. Most of the time, he’s just a little annoying.
“Fuck,”He mumbles under his breath. Doesn’t bother to even fully distract himself from his thoughts, can’t even tell if anyone heard him. He’s a little busy with his inner turmoil, with the fact his brain is yelling at him and he kind of wants to scream but he can’t because it would be concerning and nobody would have the context but —
Four and Sky were right. They were right about him and that’s never a sentence that Legend likes to say.
He likes Ravio. How did he miss that? It’s so fucking obvious. Fable noticed it, and he’d laughed at her for it. Four noticed. Sky noticed it, even compared it to his own relationship with Sun.
This is so dumb. Also a little mortifying. But mostly dumb. How can he be that stupid to not even notice he was into Ravio before it was essentially spelled out for him?
It’s been years since he’s ever liked someone that way. Years. He damn near swore off that emotion entirely. Maybe he did notice it, then. Maybe he just ignored it til he forgot about it. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d dealt with things that way. It’s not healthy, but it’s efficient, and he’s taking efficiency over health any day.
He should probably tell Ravio. It kinda scares him to think about. Is this the type of conversation you have to have in-person? Or is it acceptable to just put it in a letter and hope for the best? He’s not really sure. He could ask, but he knows better than to think that the rest of the chain won’t figure it out. Four or Sky would know. They’d probably mention it.
God, this sucks. He might just write a letter and call it a day. Future Legend problems are not Current Legend’s problems. Who knows, he might not even send the letter! Might just write it and chicken out! It’s very plausible! It has happened before, and it will continue to happen throughout his life!
When they all stop for the night, Legend tries to keep his mind off of it all. Helps set up camp, and he knows that they’ve noticed him trying to distract himself by helping out, but nobody mentions it so it’s fine, he’s fine. Honestly, he could just ask one of them about the whole…like…etiquette of love confessions, or whatever it is, but they’d get weird about it, and Legend would rather do it wrong than be teased for it.
How should he know how it’s done? He never had the chance to confess the first time he liked someone this way, and that was years ago now. He’s about on the same level as the actual child of the group when it comes to this kinda thing, and it’s only partially his fault. It’s not like it’s ever come up often — sure, he’s had people try to date him ; has been technically engaged, but they all did the work of the whole…confession business. Legend’s never done it himself. He waited too long with Marin. Doesn’t know, even now, if he would have managed to do it at all, even if the circumstances were different.
He’s starting to think he doesn’t know anything at all. Maybe that’s a little dramatic. He isn’t surprised that he’s started being dramatic too. Legend’s picked up a lot of Ravio’s other habits — talking with his hands, clicking his tongue when annoyed, he’s even picked up on Ravio’s awful habit of chewing on whatever’s available when he’s nervous or thinking — so it was just a matter of time before he picked up the dramatics.
Legend chooses to ignore that he was dramatic without Ravio’s influence, was dramatic about things ever since he was a kid. One of the many things he never grew out of, the many habits he never had time to get rid of. His uncle used to say that he was the most dramatic girl in the entire kingdom. Now he’s the second most dramatic man. Ravio’s always going to be the most dramatic, he thinks.
He wonders if he and Ravio had a kid, would that child be extra dramatic, on account of having two dramatic parents? And then he shoves that thought away, embarrassed at the idea and the thought of having a kid with the merchant. He’s got it bad, huh? He didn’t even notice it before. Legend is really hoping his face isn’t betraying him, because he doesn’t know how to explain why he’s embarrassed. What would he even say? ‘I thought about having a kid with a guy I just denied having a thing for’? Not a chance in hell.
Legend can’t even remember how long he’s been ignoring this. Can’t even tell if this is going to cause Ravio to finally decide he wants to move out, to ‘expand his business’ as he would explain it. He doesn’t think Ravio even thinks of him as more than the guy that saved his life and kingdom. Sure, they live together, but…Legend still kinda thinks Ravio’s only still around just because Legend doesn’t charge him rent. He wouldn’t really blame him — it’s a good deal. Legend can admit that he’s being very nice letting Ravio do what he does, and that anyone rational — anyone not stupidly in love with the man — wouldn’t put up with it.
Yeah, honestly, he’s not sure how he didn’t notice the signs of him liking the guy. The signs seem really obvious now that he’s caught up to himself enough to read them. He’ll blame it on not having time for it. That’s usually the only answer he can give — he never has enough time. It’s not a very peaceful existence, but it’s his, and isn’t that enough? Who cares if he doesn’t like it all that much. He has to work with it, he doesn’t get a choice.
Of all things to catch up on, did this really have to be the first? He feels a little cheated. Is there nothing else that he can get? Does he have to deal with this one right now? This one is all stressful and scary, could end with him losing the comfort of sharing a home with someone. He doesn’t like being alone, and Ravio being around helped with that. What if this makes him leave? Legend doesn’t really know what he’d do. Fable always says he can move into the castle when he wants to, that she would like to see her brother more, but he doesn’t like how big it is and he doesn’t feel safe around the knights, so even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t move in there. He doesn’t want to leave his house either — his uncle left it for him. It’s all he’s really got left, and he likes the orchard.
If Ravio left, maybe he would just…stop existing, or something. He’s never had to think about it before. He’s worried about it before, sure, but he always has the confidence that Ravio would tell him before he left and he wouldn’t just go — Ravio’d told him so. But this? He’s never thought about it in this circumstance. This could really fuck things up and make the merchant never want to even look at the hero again.
He hopes that, if the goddesses can hear his thoughts, they hear him when he begs for his life to stop getting complicated. The goddesses have never listened to his pleas before, so he doesn’t bother having high expectations, but it would really be great if his life could stop getting complicated and weird. His life hasn’t stopped getting complicated since the moment he stepped out of that house and was given the burden of ‘Hero’. It’s just kept getting worse, actually. He prayed, at first, for it to all stop and go away. He gave up on that a long time ago.
Maybe if he asks really nicely, Hylia can make this problem go away for him. Maybe he can finally get some use out of being her favourite? Probably not. The thought’s nice, though. He probably wouldn’t do it anyways. Being her favourite has just made him really tired and he thinks that if he tried to use it to get her to help him out, she’d just make him keep working. He does kinda want to retire without having to die to do it.
The letters are usually reserved for Fable. He doesn’t tend to send them to anyone else — Ravio sends a few, but Legend just replies on that paper and sends it back. He’s never actually written to the other first. — but he guesses he can’t just ignore this. If it all goes wrong, at least…at least he won’t have to see Ravio leave, if he does. It’ll still hurt but it would hurt more if he had to watch it happen. This is safer. He has the safety of it being on paper, of not having to watch as Ravio puts on that fake little smile, the one he puts on when he’s uncomfortable but doesn’t want to hurt feelings. Legend’s seen him put it on around knights and particularly annoying customers. He never wants it directed at him.
Legend doesn’t eat a lot of his dinner that night. Mostly just pokes at it, eats whenever Sky gives him a look, but doesn’t finish it. Passes it off to Four, when he’s sure nobody else is paying much attention. He just tells Four that he isn’t hungry. Doesn’t know, or care, if they believe him or not. They don’t question him, which is good enough. He kinda likes that about the smithy — they barely ever question him on things. They love questioning everyone else, just to make them annoyed or upset, but they never seem to do it to Legend anymore. The two have got their own little dynamic going on, anyways, so the cycle of questions and annoyance wouldn’t work with them for long.
It’s especially helpful now, because Legend hates telling Four that they’re right about anything. They’re a cocky little shit about it and Legend has enough going on, he doesn’t think he could convince himself to not throttle the smithy this time. That’s hard enough to do when he isn’t distracted. He loves the other like a little sibling, but it’s very hard to not want them dead sometimes. He supposes that might just be a sibling thing, though, because he and his sister have wanted each other dead every so often too and they’re literally twins.
He takes first watch. Manages to convince Time to let him take watch on his own. He doesn’t tell him why, just manages to make up some bullshit excuse about how it’ll be better so that the later watch doesn’t have to only be one person. It’s convincing enough to work, and that’s good enough for him. It gives him time to work on writing that letter that he has to write, and it means nobody will be bugging him while he does it.
His handwriting isn’t the best anyways. He doesn’t like to write around other people due to that. It’s messy and it’s just not something he’s proud of. Honestly, it’s bad enough that he can’t figure out how to say the things he wants to, it’s even worse when his terrible handwriting is thrown into the mix. This whole thing is making him feel ten times dumber than he is.
They head to bed not long after sorting out the watch system for the night. This is somewhat comforting. Means he isn’t sitting around with anxiety for even longer than he wants to, and gives him extra time to figure out what the hell he’s doing. Does he put filler in the letter? Talk about something for a while before getting to the point? Should he just confess and leave the letter as nothing more than a shitty confessional? He thinks the former, but he knows Ravio’s attention span isn’t great. Would he get bored of the letter if he talks too much, miss the point of it completely?
Damnit. Why isn’t anything ever easy? Everything has to be a difficult task for him, even when it’s something stupid, small and trivial. It’s so unfair. Legend thinks he deserves a raise, but then remembers that he doesn’t get paid for any of it, and just gets a little annoyed at how he doesn’t get paid. He wishes he did. He doesn’t really need it, he and Ravio make enough from their own business ventures, but it’d sure be nice to be paid for his efforts.
Is that selfish? Maybe a little bit. He’ll probably forget about it in the morning anyways, he’s just upset and has a lot going on at the moment. It’ll pass. It always does. This is not the first time he’s gotten annoyed about this topic and it certainly will not be the last time, either. Seems to come up whenever he’s stressed. Maybe he should talk to someone about that.
Nah. He’s got more important shit goin on. Such as this stupid letter. He hasn’t actually managed to write anything yet — he has the paper out, and has a pencil in his hand, but he doesn’t have any words. Not even one. This is a lot harder than it looks, alright? He’s never done this before and it’s definitely showing. Who knew something as simple as a letter could cause so much difficulty?
It’s just Ravio. He shouldn’t be worried. Ravio’s never given him reason to be afraid to tell him things. He briefly glances at the bracelet on his wrist, watches the sun-shaped charm reflect the firelight. It really is a pretty bracelet. The veteran hasn’t been able to stop looking at it, today. Maybe it’s because it helps with homesickness, or maybe it’s just because Ravio gave it to him, but he doesn’t ever really want to take the thing off. There’s something about it. He still doesn’t know what kind of magic this thing is coated with. Maybe he should ask about it. Ravio knows him better than to think he wouldn’t be able to tell it’s magic, maybe he’s just waiting to be asked about it.
Wouldn’t be surprising in the slightest. The other hasn’t ever been very forthcoming about things until he’s directly asked about it.
As he just sits there and looks at the charm, Legend realises that he just feels so out of his depth. This isn’t something he’s good at — the whole…expressing emotions thing. He always feels awkward and embarrassed about what he feels, so he just never really talks about that kinda stuff. He’s not sure why he gets so embarrassed about it, really ; nobody else seems to struggle with it. Maybe this is just another thing he never learned to do. Like reading. He didn’t learn to read until he was twelve, after all. Maybe he just needs to learn how to do it when he has time.
He is never going to stop giggling about anything relating to the word ‘time’ now. Every time he just thinks of Time himself and it gives him the funniest mental images in the world. He is very glad that there’s only one person in the world that can hear his thoughts and that she finds it as funny as he does.
This is just stalling. He’s absolutely stalling by thinking about anything and everything except the task at hand. Maybe he should just get it over with — throw some words on the paper, shove it in an envelope and seal it up so he doesn’t have to look at what he wrote before he sends it off. But, then, he worries that he’d throw the wrong words on there, or that he wouldn’t even get to the point. No matter what he does, he’s going to be anxious about it. It’s eating at him, a little bit. The worry. It wants to swallow him whole and leave not a single thing behind.
Legend chooses to stop thinking about it so much. He tries to write as neatly as he can, though it takes more effort than it would take anyone else. He just wants it to be legible. If he was so nervous about it only for Ravio to not be able to read his handwriting, he would actually die. He asks what magic the bracelet has. Tells Ravio that he noticed it a while ago and felt awkward asking about it. Talks a little about different things that’ve happened since they last spoke. He leaves the confession until last. Puts it at the end, and he notices that his handwriting is shakier when he writes it. No matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t stop his nerves from getting the best of him when it got to the point.
He signs it off with a small doodle of a bee and folds the letter in half to go into the envelope. Seals it with a small, blue wax seal that he stamps with a small bunny-shaped stamp. He has the one with the royal crest on it, but he’s never actually used that one. He just has it in-case it’s needed.
There. Done. He bit the bullet and now whatever happens after he sends this is in the goddesses hands until he gets home to find out if Ravio left or not. No big deal. Not terrifying at all, no sir. Not at all.
He doesn’t have to wait for the postman. He can just get Sheerow to deliver it — she’s been the one taking the letters back and forth between himself and the others back home anyways. She wouldn’t mind. But he doesn’t actually know how she would feel about it. She’s a smart bird, she would know this isn’t a normal letter.
What to do.
If he waits, he has to hold onto this thing for longer. If he just calls Sheerow, she could investigate the letter herself. …she can’t read, can she? He genuinely isn’t sure. He can read when he’s an animal, and Twilight can. Is that only because they’re really Hylian? Or can all animals read, to an extent? Has Sheerow been reading their letters this whole time?
He really didn’t think he’d be questioning if birds can read. Maybe Sky knows. Surely he wouldn’t mind being woken up for one question? Legend glances over to where Sky is sleeping. He’s got Four tucked under his arm, the other laying across his own stomach. He’ll never say it out loud, but he kinda wishes he was tucked into Sky’s other side.
Legend heads over anyways. Pokes Sky’s face a little. “Dad. Dad, wake up.”He whispers, rolling his eyes when Sky makes a vague noise in response. “Daaaaaaad.”
“Whuh?”Sky blinks his eyes open sleepily, looking a little more awake the second he sees Legend next to him. “S’mthing wrong?”
“I need to know if birds can read.”
Sky stares at him for a minute. Legend just stares right back. After a moment, Sky lets out a tired sigh. “Baby, it’s late.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But can birds read? It’s important.”
He clicks his tongue slightly, but smiles softly anyways. “Birds can be taught to read a little, yes.”
“Oh. Okay.”Legend nods. Ravio wouldn’t have taught Sheerow how to read, so he’s in the clear. “Thank you.”
“You’re…welcome? I think?”Sky blinks rapidly, confusion written on his face.
“Night dad,”Legend hums before heading back to the fire. He’ll just call Sheerow to give Ravio the letter, in that case. What reason would Ravio have to teach her to read?
…apart from just because he thought it would be funny. He would do it for that reason. But it doesn’t matter — Legend doesn’t understand a damn thing about that bird anyways. He’s not sure how she even gets here when he needs her, but it’s efficient. He’s still taking efficiency over all else.
Who cares if the little jelly bean shaped bird is somehow a tiny time-traveller? She’s cool. Legend likes her. She sometimes just hangs out in his hair. Fun times all around. He likes Sheerow a lot. If Ravio leaves him, he would actually mourn the loss of Sheerow, too. If anything bad ever happened to Sheerow he would commit a crime. Maybe he just likes small animals. Another thing to add to the list of weird things about himself.
She doesn’t take long to arrive when he calls for her. She sits on his knee patiently, nudges his hand a few times until he pets her. He never does give her the letter right away, always gives her affection first. Come on, how can he not? Sheerow deserves it. She chirps a few times, turns her attention to the letter after a while.
“Yeah, um.”Legend sighs when she does, frowning. “I, um. Need ya to take that to Rav. Okay?”
She confirms and takes it with little convincing. She stopped being stubborn about things a little while ago, when Legend started giving her attention first. It’s a decent way of dealing with things, and it’s not like he minds much. She gets one final pet before she takes off with the letter.
Legend lets out a heavy sigh. Well. That letter is Future Legend’s problem now, not his. Whatever happens…well, it happens, he supposes. He just hopes Ravio won’t hate him now. The merchant likes to say he doesn’t have a single hating bone in his body, but Sky said that too, and Sky hates some of the people in his and Four’s eras just because of how they speak to them. So his worry isn’t really placated by the statement.
He wakes Warriors and Wild up when it’s time to switch shifts. He’s tired and stressed at the same time, which is a really fun combination. Will he succumb to the tiredness, or will the stress keep him awake? He has absolutely no idea! He hopes he gets to sleep. Really, he does, because if he doesn’t sleep he’ll just think, and thinking is way worse than sleep sometimes.
Legend ends up giving into what he wanted to do earlier. Heads over to Sky and tucks himself into the man's other side, more for the comfort of it than anything else. Maybe it’ll calm his mind down and let him sleep? It does the trick. He isn’t sure when he falls asleep, but he manages it eventually, curled up into Sky’s side.
Morning comes and Legend’s anxiety hasn’t gone away like he thought it would have. It’s still there eating away at him, which is total bullshit. It should have left. The letter was sent, he doesn’t have to stress about it anymore.
He wonders if Ravio’s read it yet. Immediately after, he lets out a tired sigh. He’s still worrying about it. He can’t even get a break — fuck, he isn’t going to relax until he knows what Ravio’s reaction is, will he?
This is so lame.
“You alright over there?”He hears Four, but doesn’t actually answer. Just lets out a heavy sigh and tucks his knees up to his chest so he can hide his face. He's not ready to exist as a functioning person. Won’t be until he gets an answer.
He hates this, actually. This was supposed to be Future Legend’s problem, not Current Legend’s problem! He feels a little bit robbed, honestly. So not cool.
He doesn’t express his anxiety. Just gets up for the day. Doesn’t eat his breakfast, passes it off to Four again. They give him a look this time — Red’s worried about him, going off that eye colour. He feels a little bad about worrying her — but don't speak. Good enough. He can ignore looks much easier. Even if he does feel a tiny bit bad about it.
At least it’s not Vio today. Vio would hold him at knifepoint until he told them what was wrong. A little intimidating, but it gets the job done, so Legend can’t blame Vio for using a method that’s never failed them.
He just would like to never experience it. Ever. Vio honestly scares him a little. But thankfully, it’s too early for Vio to be fully functioning, so he isn’t getting threatened today.
He hopes Ravio replies to the letter. Even if it’s just to make an excuse about why he has to go back to Lorule. Even if it’s just to tell Legend that he hates him and doesn’t want to see him again in their entire lives. It would hurt, but it wouldn’t be new. Legend wouldn’t blame him.
They don’t linger around long, and it doesn’t take a long time to get all their shit together either. Legend ends up helping Four out with their things ; he thinks they have a headache. They aren’t focusing very well this morning. Legend wouldn’t be surprised if they have an argument going on up there right now.
He sticks to the back of the group when they set off. He ends up having to walk beside Twilight, and he has to do his very best to hide any of his negative emotions right fucking now because Twilight can read emotions far too easily. He doesn’t need Twilight asking him about it.
The worry is still eating at him. It hasn’t stopped.
“I hope we get a portal soon,”He hears Wind whistle, “We’ve been in this era for a while.”
“Yeah, I hope we get to go somewhere else. Who’s era do you think we’ll end up in?”
“Hyrule, nobody’s keeping track of it,”
“I think we’ll end up in Legend’s era next,”Four speaks up, “We haven’t been there in a long time. It would make sense if it was his next.”
Oh he hopes not. He would take anyone else’s era right now, not his own. His own era is exactly where he doesn’t want to be. Like, there is nowhere he wants to be less right now.
“Oh, fun!”Sky laughs a little. “You might get to be home soon, bun!”
“I really, really do not know how to express how much I do not want that.”Legend snaps out, too busy trying to ignore his nerves to even remember he’s supposed to be pretending to be fine.
“...you don’t want to be home?”Warriors blinks slowly. Legend can feel the confusion from the rest of the group.
“I don’t want to be home,”He repeats back simply. “Can we drop it?”
He watches Sky’s confusion turn into concern, as the other slows to walk beside him. “Okay, baby, we don’t have to talk about it.”
Legend nods once. Doesn’t open his mouth again. He’s not sure what Sky or the others are thinking about what he said. Really, he isn’t convinced that he wants to know their thoughts.
They run into a portal, eventually. Legend really hopes Four is wrong. He doesn’t want to be in his era. He’ll take Wild’s era over his, and he fucking hates the champions era because of how much walking you have to do. He hopes this isn’t his era, he isn’t ready.
It’s his era. He knows it the second he walks through that damn portal. He feels his connection with Fable strengthens back up, smells the familiar scent that his era has.
He lets out a long, pained sigh. Sits on the ground with his head in his hands. He does not want to be here — really, he doesn’t. He can’t avoid his problems forever when the person he’s avoiding knows all of his hiding spots. The goddesses must really enjoy laughing at him.
“Um.”Four kneels down and pokes Legend. Wind copies Four’s actions and pokes Legend a second time. “Are you good down there?”
“Let me rot and die.”
“Um, I don’t think I want to do that,”
Legend flips them off. Four just hums.
He isn’t ready for this. He doesn’t really know if he was ever going to be, but he definitely isn’t ready right now. This is such a cruel joke. He knows he hasn’t been very into religion, despite Impa’s best efforts, but is that really bad enough to warrant being turned into the goddesses personal jester?
If they think he’s going to start praying because of this, they are sorely mistaken.
“Apple, come on, we need to get moving, if that’s okay?”Sky tries to nudge him gently to get up.
“Why are none of you willing to let me just sit here and die?”
“Because we need you. Now get up.”Warriors is much less gentle about it. He gets glared at by Sky for it, which is a little bit funny.
He gets up, eventually. He’s not going to be addressing any of his problems right now, not when he has a much bigger one to address when he gets home. He was hoping he had a little more time, but really, why did he expect to get what he wanted? Never does. Probably never will. He exists to suffer. Yes, he’s probably being dramatic again, but it feels perfectly reasonable to him right now.
“I need you guys to fuck off for a little while so I can deal with the consequences of my own actions.”Legend states once they reach the village. He can just head home, deal with his problems, and then promptly die. If Ravio isn’t there, he will be letting the earth reclaim him, though.
He doesn’t wait for a response. Just leaves them behind and heads to his house. He can feel his heart pounding as he walks, the nerves eating his insides and his brain screaming at him.
The shop signs are still up. Usually, Legend hates those things, but he can’t help but be a tiny bit relieved to see them. Ravio wouldn’t leave without those — “It’s way too expensive to replace them, Mr. Hero.” — and so it’s good to know that, at least, the merchant is still here.
He doesn’t think he’s ever opened that front door with more hesitation in his entire life. “Rav?”His voice sounds way too quiet but he can’t even care about it at the minute. He sees the envelope open, discarded on the top of a sales cabinet. Ravio read the letter, then. Legend takes a breath.
“Ah! Mr. Hero!”Ravio jumps a little. “You’re back!”
A hum. “Yeah. Um. Hi.”
Silence.
Ravio tilts his head at Legend, but Legend doesn’t know if he can even look at him, so he looks at the ground and kicks his feet a little. It’s so quiet, it might actually drive him insane.
“If you hate me can you just tell me?”He blurts out after the silence dragged out for too long. It was too much, he couldn’t take it. He’d rather Ravio just yell at him or insult him or something, anything is better than silence.
“Mr. Hero…”Ravio hums, and Legend hears him walking over. “I don’t hate you! I could never!”
He doesn’t know if he believes him.
“Your letter was nice,”He continues, voice quiet. Legend can’t tell if he’s just trying to match Legend’s own quiet energy with it. “I’m afraid that the magic on that bracelet is a trade secret though, honeybunny,”He laughs a little and pokes Legend’s nose. Legend bites his finger for it. “Ow—meanie!”
“Deserved it.”
“I thought you loved me,”Ravio teases with a grin, and Legend falls quiet. Shrinks in on himself a bit, takes a step back. He’s scared of this whole thing and he wants to run and hide and never show his face ever again — “Hey, hey. Breathe. I’m sorry, Link, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Yeah right. Legend doesn’t believe that for a second. “So you read the whole thing, then…”
Ravio sighs. “Yep. Did you not want me to?”
“I don’t know.”
Ravio goes quiet. Legend hears him tapping his fingers against his arms like he does when he thinks. All that’s running through the hero’s mind is “He’s trying to figure out how to let me down easy”. He really regrets sending the letter, this shit is way more terrifying than any of the monsters he’s ever fought.
“I’m glad you were the one to say something. I thought you were going to kick me out if I told you I wanted to kiss you.”Ravio shrugs, eventually, and Legend genuinely thinks his brain just stopped working. He just kinda looks at the other for a while.
What.
“Don’t look at me like that!”He laughs nervously. “I did! I thought you would kick me out for it!”
Why did Legend’s type in men have to be ‘stupid’.
“Oh.”The hero sighs, shaking his head a little. “You don’t hate me for it?”
Ravio shakes his head again. “The opposite, actually! See, if you didn’t say anything, I was going to have to. We’ve been at this for months now, Mr. Hero. Honestly, I’m glad we can get past that whole deal now.”
He lets out another breath. Oh, hey, the anxiety’s stopped eating his guts out. Hooray!
“Though, you never asked me to date you in that lovely little letter of yours,”
“I will actually kill you.”
Ravio just laughs. Legend cannot believe that this is the man he’s decided he wants to live for.
That thought is still fond, though, because of course it is. Legend hasn’t had a single thought about Ravio that hasn’t been affectionate in the past twenty four hours.
“I guess you did do half of the work,”Ravio speaks again with a shrug. “Okay. So. You did the confession stuff, can we date now, or do I need to wait for your next emotional breakthrough for that one?”
“Just for that, you have to wait.”
“What—hey! No!”
Legend heads out to go and fetch the others, laughing at Ravio’s minor distress as he leaves.
#the rainbow twinks#rainbow ramblings#rainbow writes#moon sun + legend#linked universe#lu#lu legend#linked universe legend#lu ravio#linked universe ravio#lu four#linked universe four#lu sky#linked universe sky#ravioli#ravioli ship#ravio x legend#linked universe fanfic#lu fanfiction#lu fic#linked universe fic#lord.#this took so long. this IS so long.#dad sky returns...........
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Needs
Summary: You are there to meet all of his needs.
Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut.
Author's Notes: Well, folks, brace yourselves for another rollercoaster ride of a story! I gotta admit, this one had me wrestling with writer's block like nobody's business. Every word felt like it was mocking me from the page! But then, lo and behold, I stumbled upon some Karl gifs on Tumblr and bam! Inspiration struck like lightning! 🌩️ Had to spill some ink on Karl, no question about it. Here's hoping I did justice to the enigma that is Karl in this one-shot! Oh, and can we talk about Charlotte? Let's just say, I'm not exactly her biggest fan... Am I alone in this? 🤔
Also read on Ao3
As Karl stood by the window, his gaze fixed on you, the maid, playing with Otto in the garden, a myriad of conflicting emotions swirled within him. It had been two weeks since Charlotte had left with Friedrich, leaving Karl and Otto behind. Two weeks since Karl had managed to recover from his illness, but the ache of missing his wife lingered like a ghost haunting the halls of his home.
As he watched you, a simple maid with a beauty that had gone unnoticed until now, Karl couldn't help but feel a pang of longing deep within his chest. He missed the warmth of a woman, especially when he lay alone in his bed at night, the cold sheets a constant reminder of his loneliness.
Over time, Karl began to notice things about you that he hadn't paid attention to before. He saw your beauty, simple yet captivating, like someone from his own class. He observed the dedication with which you carried out your duties, the tender care you showed towards Otto, his beloved son.
And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, Karl's gaze fell upon the neckline of your dress, the delicate curve of your breasts teasingly visible beneath the fabric. His breath caught in his throat at the sight, his pulse quickening with desire as he imagined what it would be like to hold them, to suckle at them with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
Karl closed his eyes, cursing himself as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He missed the warmth of a woman, the softness of her skin against his, and there you were, a woman so close and yet so far away.
He wondered if you were still a virgin, if you had ever felt the heat of a man's touch. But it didn't matter, did it? Because Karl would be better than any man you had ever known, much better. He would treat you with the respect and adoration you deserved, fulfilling every desire and whim with a passion that knew no bounds.
But then, with a shake of his head, Karl opened his eyes, the realization of what he was thinking hitting him like a ton of bricks. What the hell was he doing? He was a married man, a father, and you were just a maid, beneath him in every sense of the word.
With a sense of self-disgust, Karl moved away from the window and strode purposefully towards the door, determined to put an end to these foolish thoughts once and for all. He swung the door open, interrupting your play with Otto as he ushered you both inside.
"Enough playing for now, Otto," Karl said, his voice firm as he directed his son towards the bathroom. "It's time to wash up and get ready for dinner."
Otto visibly wilted at the dismissal, his shoulders slumping as he reluctantly obeyed his father's command. You, on the other hand, bowed respectfully, apologizing for the interruption and offering to help with dinner preparations.
But Karl ignored your offer, his gaze distant as he instructed Otto to hurry along. "We will have dinner promptly at seven," he said, his tone clipped. "Make sure everything is ready by then."
You nodded obediently, bowing once again before turning to leave the room. As you passed Karl, he couldn't help but notice the way your dress clung to your curves, the sway of your hips as you walked away sending a shiver of desire down his spine.
But Karl quickly pushed aside his wayward thoughts, his sense of propriety kicking in as he returned to his office at home. Taking a tissue from his pocket, he pressed it against his mouth while coughing, the sound muffled against the fabric as he tried to quell the persistent ache in his chest.
"Damn foolish thoughts," Karl muttered to himself, his voice tinged with self-loathing as he leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with thoughts of you. "I must focus on my work, on providing for my family. That is all that matters."
But even as he tried to push you out of his mind, Karl couldn't shake the feeling of longing that lingered like a shadow in the depths of his soul. And as he sat there, alone in his office, the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears, he couldn't help but wonder what might have been if things had been different.
As Karl sank into the warm water of the bathtub, he closed his eyes, trying to push aside the intrusive thoughts that plagued his mind. The sound of the water lapping gently against the sides of the tub provided a soothing backdrop, but even the comforting embrace of the warm water couldn't chase away the persistent ache of longing that gnawed at his chest.
You, the maid, moved quietly around the bathroom, preparing to assist Karl with his bath as you had done countless times before. But today was different. Today, Karl couldn't help but notice the way your gentle hands moved with practiced ease, the way your touch sent shivers of desire coursing through his veins.
As you approached the tub, Karl tried to suppress the rising tide of arousal that threatened to consume him. He had never given your presence a second thought before, but now, he couldn't even relax in your presence without feeling the stirrings of desire.
Desperate for some relief from his torment, Karl toyed with the idea of visiting some prostitutes, hoping that the physical release would help to banish the thoughts of you from his mind. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't bring himself to act on it, the image of your face haunting him like a specter in the darkness.
You began to wash Karl's back, your touch gentle and soothing against his skin. But as your hands moved lower, tracing the curve of his spine with feather-light touches, Karl couldn't help but tense up, the warmth of your touch sending shockwaves of desire coursing through his veins.
He tried to ignore the sensation, to focus on anything other than the way your touch made him feel. But when you passed into his arms, your body pressed tantalizingly close to his, Karl couldn't help but look at you, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment too long before he quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
You noticed his gaze and gave him a small smile, your eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Are you feeling better, Herr Hoffmeister?" you asked respectfully, your voice soft and gentle as you continued to bathe him.
Karl nodded, his voice hoarse with emotion as he admitted, "Yes, I am feeling much better, thank you. Still coughing a lot, but not as bad as before."
You smiled again, genuine happiness shining in your eyes as you said, "I'm glad to hear that, Herr Hoffmeister. You had us all worried there for a while."
The two of you fell silent once again, the only sound in the room the gentle splashing of water as you continued to bathe Karl. And as he lay there, enveloped in the warmth of the water and the comfort of your presence, Karl couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and take you in his arms, to hold you close and never let go. But he quickly pushed aside those thoughts, burying them deep within his heart as he focused on the task at hand, determined to put an end to these foolish fantasies once and for all.
As the silence stretched between you and Karl, he finally broke it with a question, his voice cutting through the quietude of the bathroom. "How long have you been serving me, uh... what was your name again?" he asked, his tone slightly hesitant as he tried to recall your name.
You smiled softly, accustomed to his occasional forgetfulness. "It's [Your Name], Herr Hoffmeister," you replied respectfully, your voice gentle as you continued to bathe him. "And I've been serving you for ten years now, since I was eighteen."
Karl's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your response. "Ten years?" he repeated, genuine curiosity shining in his gray eyes. "That's quite a long time. I must admit, I hadn't realized it had been so long."
You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you continued to wash his back. "Yes, time flies, doesn't it?" you remarked, your voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. "It feels like just yesterday that I first started working here."
Karl fell silent for a moment, lost in thought as he processed your words. Then, with a curious glint in his eyes, he asked, "Do you have a husband? Or perhaps a fiancé? Children, maybe?"
You shook your head, a faint blush coloring your cheeks at the mention of marriage and children. "No, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've never had many expectations about marriage or children. My life has always been here, serving you and taking care of Otto."
Karl's curiosity seemed to be piqued by your response, his gaze lingering on your face as he asked, "Do you have any family, then? Siblings, perhaps? Do your parents live nearby?"
You smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in your eyes as you spoke. "I don't know, Herr Hoffmeister," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. "I was orphaned at a young age, raised by the nuns at the orphanage."
Karl's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation, his expression one of genuine sympathy as he processed the information. "You're an orphan?" he asked softly, his voice filled with compassion. "Do you... do you know who your parents are?"
You nod solemnly in response to Karl's question, the memories of your past flooding back with painful clarity. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you reply quietly, your voice tinged with sadness. "My mother was a prostitute, and my father... well, from what the nuns told me, he was a judge from England named Turpin."
Karl's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your revelation, his expression one of genuine curiosity as he processes the information. "Turpin?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief. "The judge from England? How did...?"
You nod, cutting him off before he can finish his question. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper. "He was traveling through Germany and ended up getting my mother pregnant. But he made it clear to her that he didn't want me, and he returned to England, leaving my mother alone to raise me."
A pang of sadness comes over you as you imagine the struggles your mother faced, the possible loneliness and hardships she must have endured. Only she could not escape the cruel hand that fate imposed on her and ended up dying in childbirth, leaving you alone and an orphan.
Karl's expression softens with sympathy as he listens to your story, his gray eyes filled with compassion. "I'm so sorry, [Your Name]," he murmurs, his voice gentle but filled with genuine regret. "That must have been incredibly difficult for you."
You offer him a small smile, though there is a hint of sadness in your eyes as you continue to speak. "It was," you admit quietly. "But I was fortunate enough to be taken in by the nuns at the orphanage, where I was raised until I turned eighteen."
His curiosity got the best of him, and he asked, "Have you ever tried to contact your father?"
You nodded quietly, a hint of sadness flickering across your features as you recalled the memories of your youth. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied softly. "When I was young, I sent a letter to him, hoping to establish some connection. But I heard nothing back. Later, I learned that he had married a peasant girl and started a family of his own."
Karl's expression darkened at the mention of your father's lack of response, a flicker of anger flashing in his gray eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "It must have been difficult for you, reaching out only to be met with silence."
You nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It was, Herr Hoffmeister," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I let it go. I lived in the orphanage until I turned eighteen, and then I came here, looking for a job. The old butler spoke to you on my behalf, and you graciously allowed me to become one of the housemaids."
Karl listened intently to your words, his gaze drifting away for a moment as he processed the information. But when he turned back to you, there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he asked, "And you've been serving me ever since?"
You nodded, a sense of pride evident in your voice as you replied, "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister. It has been an honor to serve you and to take care of all your needs."
Karl looked away, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions as he questioned whether your loyalty was truly genuine. "But would you be willing to take care of me, of all my needs?" he asked hesitantly, his baritone voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
You frowned slightly at his question, unsure of what he was getting at. "Yes, of course, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied earnestly, your voice filled with determination. "I am here to serve you in any way that I can."
Karl's gaze softened at your response, and he reached out to take your hand in his, pressing it gently against his chest as he searched your eyes for reassurance. "All my needs?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blushed at the implication of his words, understanding what he was asking. Unable to meet his gaze, you looked away briefly before meeting his eyes once again, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Yes, all your needs," you affirmed, your voice steady despite the embarrassment that coursed through your veins.
Karl's expression softens further, his gray eyes filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability as he pulls you closer by the wrist he's holding. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he brings his other hand to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.
His voice falls into a low, husky cadence as he asks you to answer to his need now. "Do you mean that, [Your Name]?" Karl's voice is barely above a whisper, filled with a desperate hopefulness.
You meet his gaze, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. His vulnerability surprises you, but there's something in his eyes that draws you closer, despite the implications of his request. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you reply softly, your voice trembling slightly. "I am here to serve you."
Karl's grip tightens slightly on your chin, his gaze intense as he leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Then kiss me," he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper against your lips.
You hesitate for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. But then, with a newfound resolve, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as you press your lips against his.
At first, the kiss is tentative, hesitant, as if both of you are unsure of what to expect. But then, as the seconds pass, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. Karl's hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further.
The warmth of his lips against yours sends a shiver of desire coursing through your veins, igniting a fire deep within your soul. You respond eagerly, your hands moving to tangle in his gray hair as you lose yourself in the intensity of the moment.
For a brief, fleeting moment, nothing else exists except the two of you, lost in each other's embrace. And as you pull away, breathless and flushed with desire, you realize that nothing will ever be the same again.
Karl's gray eyes are dark with longing as he admits in a husky voice, "I want to take you to my bed today, [Your Name]."
Your heart races at his words, your cheeks flushing with excitement as you nod eagerly, your desire mirroring his own. Karl's touch is surprisingly gentle as he caresses your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he studies your expression.
In a moment of vulnerability, Karl's gaze drifts to your lips before he gathers his courage to ask, "Are you... a virgin, [Your Name]?" His voice is soft, tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he waits for your response.
You blush at the question, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement as you shake your head. "No, Herr Hoffmeister," you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry."
But Karl's response surprises you. Instead of expressing disappointment or disapproval, he simply smiles and says, "It's alright, [Your Name]. I don't mind." His words are filled with understanding and acceptance, easing the tension that had been building inside you.
Then, with a note of anticipation in his voice, Karl questions, "Do you... want this? Want to go to bed with me, [Your Name]?" His eyes search yours, longing to hear your answer, to know that you desire him as much as he desires you.
You meet his gaze with unwavering determination, the fire of desire burning brightly in your eyes as you confess, "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister. For a long time, I've thought about it, imagined what it would be like to be taken care of by you, just as you took care of Mrs. Hoffmeister."
Karl's heart swells with a mixture of desire and affection at your words, his hands trembling slightly as he lets go of your face and rises from the bathtub. Moving away from you, he looks momentarily irritated as he says, "Don't mention her, Fräulein. I don't want to think about the fact that she left me for another man."
You nod apologetically, understanding the pain that Karl must be feeling at the mention of his estranged wife. As Karl dries himself off with a towel, he orders you to follow him, and you do so obediently as he leaves the bathroom and heads towards the bedroom.
The anticipation hangs thick in the air as you enter the bedroom together, the tension between you palpable as you both prepare to take the next step in your relationship. His gaze lingers on your simple maid's dress, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that sends a shiver of desire down his spine. He can feel his pulse quicken with each passing moment, his arousal evident as he takes in the sight of you standing before him.
With a husky voice, Karl murmurs, "Fräulein, come closer." His words are a command, filled with a raw intensity that leaves no room for hesitation. You obey without question, stepping closer to him until you're standing just inches apart, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.
Karl's hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His lips are demanding, hungry, as he claims you with a passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more.
And as Karl's lips claim yours in a passionate kiss, you feel the unmistakable prickle of his mustache against your skin, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. You relish the sensation, savoring the feeling of his rough facial hair against your soft lips, a tantalizing reminder of his masculinity.
But as the kiss deepens, you break away, holding his shoulders firmly as you gaze into his gray eyes with unwavering determination. His naked form stands before you, still slightly damp from the bath you had given him earlier, his baritone voice filled with desire as he watches you intently.
With deliberate movements, you caress his shoulders, feeling the tension melt away beneath your touch. Your hands glide down to his chest, tracing the contours of his muscular frame before slowly falling to your knees in front of him, maintaining eye contact as you do so.
Karl's breath catches in his throat as he watches you, anticipation evident in his gaze as he waits for you to take the next step. His half-hard cock twitches with desire, but you deliberately ignore it for now, focusing instead on pleasing him in other ways.
As you settle at his feet, your hands trail up his thighs, the fabric of your simple maid's dress brushing against his skin. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his arousal evident as you continue to tease him with your touch.
With a coy smile, you look up at him, your eyes shining with mischief as you ask in a husky voice, "Herr Hoffmeister, may I take care of your needs?" Your words are filled with promise, a hint of anticipation laced with desire as you await his response.
Karl's breath hitches at your question, his gray eyes dark with desire as he nods eagerly, his voice thick with arousal. "Yes, Fräulein," he murmurs, his voice husky with need. "Please, take care of me."
With a wicked grin, you lean forward, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh as you trail kisses along his flesh. You can feel his pulse quicken beneath your touch, his breath coming in shallow gasps as you tease him mercilessly.
But you're not done yet. With a slow, deliberate motion, you run your hands up his thighs, bypassing his aching cock as you reach for his hips. Karl's groan of frustration only spurs you on, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you revel in the power you hold over him.
With practiced ease, you massage his hips, your fingers digging into his flesh as you work to relieve the tension that has built up within him. Karl's grip tightens on your shoulders, his baritone voice filled with desperation as he pleads with you to give him what he craves.
The hunger in Karl's gray eyes grows more intense, his baritone voice thick with desire as he watches you with unabashed longing. The sight of you, dressed in your simple maid's attire, on your knees before him ignites a fire within him, driving him to the brink of madness with need.
But even in this vulnerable position, it's clear to karl that you hold all the power. Your wicked grin, your teasing touch, they all serve to remind him that it's you who dictates the pace, you who decides how far this will go.
And yet, Karl can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of surrendering control to you. With a low growl of desire, he reaches down to grasp your chin, his thumb brushing lightly against your lips as he murmurs in a husky voice, "You have me completely at your mercy, Fräulein. But I warn you, I'm not easily tamed."
Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you meet his gaze, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you reply, "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Herr Hoffmeister. But don't worry, I like a challenge."
With that, you lean forward, your lips trailing a path of fire along his inner thigh as you inch closer and closer to your ultimate goal. Karl's pulse quickens with each teasing touch, his heart racing with anticipation as he feels your lips inch closer to his aching cock.
And then, finally, your lips closed around him, your mouth hot and wet as you took him deep within your throat. Karl's head fell back in ecstasy, his gray eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your touch.
With each expert flick of your tongue, each gentle suckle of your lips, Karl felt himself spiraling further and further into a blissful haze of desire. Your mouth was pure heaven, a sinful delight that threatened to consume him whole as you worked your magic on him.
But Karl wasn't content to simply be a passive participant in this dance of pleasure. With a low growl of desire, he reached down to grasp your hair, guiding you with gentle but firm pressure as he set the rhythm of your movements.
The feeling of your lips wrapped around him, your tongue swirling and dancing with wicked intent, was enough to drive Karl to the edge of sanity. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the effort to contain the overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to consume him.
As he felt himself nearing the brink of ecstasy, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you gasping for more as he instructed you to disrobe and recline upon the bed. Eager to feel him within you, you wasted no time in complying with his command, swiftly removing your garments and lying back upon the bed, your body pulsating with anticipation.
Karl watched intently as you shed each piece of clothing, his gray eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your naked form. He admired the way your curves beckoned to him, the softness of your skin inviting him to explore every inch of your body.
Once you were fully undressed and lying on the bed, Karl moved closer, his hands trembling with need as he reached down to caress his own throbbing cock. His baritone voice was thick with desire as he spoke, his words sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.
"Now, meine liebe, I want to feel you around me," Karl murmured, his voice husky with lust as he positioned himself between your legs. "But first, I need to prepare you for me."
With a wicked grin, Karl leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before trailing kisses down your neck and chest, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. As he reached your breasts, he took each nipple into his mouth in turn, sucking and nibbling on them with fervent desire.
Your breath hitched at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his gray hair as you arched your back in pleasure. Karl's mustache tickled your skin, adding to the intensity of the sensation as he lavished attention on your sensitive peaks.
But Karl wasn't content to stop there. With a devilish gleam in his eyes, he continued his journey southward, trailing kisses along your stomach and thighs until he reached the apex of your desire. His tongue flicked out to taste your wetness, and you moaned in ecstasy as he teased you with his expert ministrations.
"Oh, Herr Hoffmeister," you gasped, your voice thick with desire as he worshipped you with his mouth. "Please, I need you inside me."
Karl removes his mouth from your pussy, and a soft whimper escapes your lips, craving more of his touch. He doesn't disappoint, his thick fingers soon replacing his tongue as he stretches you open, preparing you for what's to come. With practiced ease, he slides two fingers inside you, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"Karl," you moan softly, obeying his command to call him by his first name. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to his ears, fueling his desire even further. But he reminds you to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake his son with your passionate cries.
You nod eagerly, squirming on the bed as Karl's fingers explore every inch of you, driving you wild with need. His baritone voice washes over you like a wave of heat as he murmurs, "That's it, meine liebe. Moan my name for me, but remember, quietly."
With each thrust of his fingers, you can't help but moan, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity. "Karl," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper as you ride his fingers, craving more of him with each passing moment.
Karl's gray hair brushes against your skin as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his mustache tickling your skin as his tongue dances with yours. The sensation sends a jolt of desire straight to your core, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy with each passing second.
As the heat between you reaches its peak, Karl finally withdraws his fingers, his gaze filled with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. With a wicked grin, he whispers, "Are you ready for me, meine liebe? Ready to take all of me?"
You nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as Karl enters you with a single, powerful thrust. The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in a dizzying whirlwind.
"Karl," you cry out, unable to contain your passion as he moves inside you, each thrust driving you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. But you remember his warning and keep your voice low, your moans muffled against his shoulder as you surrender yourself to the pleasure of his touch.
With each thrust, Karl's baritone voice fills the room, urging you on with whispered words of encouragement. "That's it, meine liebe," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Take all of me. Feel me deep inside you."
You cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his back as you ride the wave of pleasure together. And as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy, you cry out his name one last time, your voice filled with pure bliss as you finally succumb to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.
As Karl continues thrusting, chasing his own climax, you writhe beneath him, your body aching with pleasure as you cling to him desperately. His baritone voice fills the room with a chorus of moans and groans, the sound of his pleasure mingling with your own as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy together.
With a hoarse moan, Karl finally pulls out, his seed spilling onto your belly in a hot, sticky mess. For a moment, he stays on top of you, his body trapping you against the mattress as he revels in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. Then, with a contented sigh, he rolls off of you and lies next to you with a satisfied smile on his lips.
You lie side by side, panting and spent, your bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. But despite the exhaustion that threatens to consume you, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you as you bask in the warmth of Karl's embrace.
Feeling a surge of affection, you crawl towards him, pressing your naked body against his as you lay your head on his chest. Karl's arms wrap around you instinctively, pulling you close as he presses a tender kiss to your head.
With a contented sigh, you ask in a soft voice, "Did I manage to meet your needs, Karl?"
Karl's gray eyes sparkle with affection as he gazes down at you, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, meine liebe," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth. "You exceeded my every expectation."
Feeling emboldened by his words, you trail a hand down his chest, teasing him with feather-light touches as you whisper in his ear, "Is there anything else you desire, Karl? Anything at all?"
Karl's breath hitches at your touch, his pulse quickening with desire as he meets your gaze with unwavering intensity. "Oh, Fräulein," he murmurs, his voice thick with longing. "I desire nothing more than to lose myself in you, body and soul."
With that, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hunger evident as he claims you with a passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more. And as you surrender yourself to the pleasure of his touch once again, you realize that this is only the beginning of your journey together.
Translation:
"meine liebe" - my love
"Herr Hoffmeister" - Mr. Hoffmeister
"Fräulein" - Miss (or young woman, typically used to address an unmarried woman)
#karl hoffmeister#alan rickman x reader#alan rickman#a promise#karl hoffmeister x reader#judge turpin
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All TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 Fills
Thank you to all who participated in this event! here are all the fills you created!
Week 5: No Powers AU by @funsized-loser | SamBucky Fic Rec List | Rated: N/A-E | 13 Fics + 7 Fic Writers Generally Recced |
[podfic] I Could Never Hold Your Heart In My Hand (my darling you already do) by @funsized-loser with original fic by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: T | Length: 1.5-2 Hrs | Snow White Fusion, Fantasy AU, Curse Breaking | AO3 |
Week 5: Ghost/Zombie AU by @funsized-loser | SamBucky Fic Rec List | Rated: T-E | 7 Fics + 1 Fanart |
The Romanian by @six2vii | Rated: T | WC: 5.4K | No Powers AU, Western AU, Fluff and Humor | AO3 |
Upon Faith by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: E | WC: 26.8K | Skrulls, Divorce Arc, Better Thunderbolts Ideas, Better Captain America 4 Ideas | AO3 |
Week 6: Didn't Know They Were Dating/Friends With Benefits | SamBucky Fic Rec List | Rated: G-E | 10 Fics + 1 Podfic |
Off Mission by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: T | WC: 2K | Hurt/Comfort, Better Thunderbolts Ideas, Bucky Takes Care of Sam | Off Mission |
Cheesecakes at Kitchen Tables by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: G | WC: 2.9K | Didn't Know They Were Dating, Matchmaking, POV Original Character | AO3 |
Hanging In There by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: G | WC: 3.4K | No Powers AU, Meet-Ugly, Fluff | AO3 |
Untitled by @onesmolangel | Art | Hurt/Comfort, TFATWS Episode 6 "One World, One People", Hug |
sixteen carriages driving away by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: M | WC: 3.2K | Western AU, Technically Better Thunderbolts Ideas Inspired, Hurt/Comfort | AO3 |
Very Casual by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: E | WC: 2.4K | Didn't Know They Were Dating, Friends with Benefits, Post-CATWS | AO3 |
Let Me Just Walk You Through a Hypothetical by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: G | WC: 1.5K | “Let Me Just Walk You Through a Hypothetical”, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together | AO3 |
You’re Just Gonna Set Me Up Like That, Huh? by @funsized-loser | Rated: T | WC: 986 | “You’re Just Gonnaa Set Me Up Like That, Huh?”, TW: Blood/Injury, Cute |
You’re Just Gonna Set Me Up Like That, Huh? by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: E | WC: 1.8K | “You’re Just Gonna Set Me Up Like That, Huh?”, Gay Chicken (Sort of), Actions Do Indeed Have Consequences | AO3 |
A thousand times yes by noe3489 | Rated: G | WC: 591 | Meanwhile… On the Boat, First Kiss, Love Confessions | AO3 |
Untitled by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 511 | “Let Me Just Walk You Through a Hypothetical”, Fluff, Established Relationship |
What We Want by noe3489 | Rated: G | WC: 1.6K | Divorce Arc, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed | AO3 |
“Fixing the Boat” by @thatmexisaurusrex | Art | Meanwhile… On the Boat, Gif, Domestic Fluff |
“Sam Finds the Note” and “Bucky Has Regrets” by @thatmexisaurusrex | Art | Divorce Arc, Angst, Thunderbolts Era |
Untitled by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 2.9K | “You’re Just Gonna Set Me Up Like That, Huh?”, POV Annalise (Darlene’s Friend), Tooth-Rotting Fluff |
Another Natasha by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: T | WC: 2.8K | Skrulls, Fostering, Established Relationship | AO3 |
Third Time’s The Charm by @exbex | Rated: G | WC: 3.6K | Reunite in Wakanda, Speculation for Thunderbolts, Temporary Character Death | AO3 |
Want to Live in Your Personal Space by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: E | WC: 4.4K | Laying Low, Getting Together, Bucky Barnes Takes Care of Sam Wilson | AO3 |
Soul Stone Fic Recs by @funsized-loser | Rated: T-M | SamBucky Fic Reclist | Five Fics |
Victory Party by @funsized-loser | Rated: T | WC: 1.3K | Victory Party, Bittersweet, Let Sam Grieve His Lost Friend |
and if you go chasing rabbits by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: T | WC: 4.5K | Soul Stone, Getting Together (Sort of), Bittersweet | AO3 |
Acting Weird by noe3489 | Rated: N/A | WC: 1.4K | “Can you move your seat up?”, Preslash, Idiots in Love | AO3 |
Never Hit Send, Never Called Again by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 3.2K | 6 Months of Ghosting, Post-Endgame, Texting |
Sam Gets Ghosted for Six Months / Bucky Loses His Nerve for Six Months by @thatmexisaurusrex | SamBucky Fanart | 6 Months of Ghosting, Bittersweet, Gifs |
“I don’t think he’s the kind you save.” by @thatmexisaurusrex | art | SamBucky Edit, “I don’t think he’s the kind you save”, enemies to lovers.
The Exact Kind of Guy You Save (And Who Saves You) by noe3489 | Rated: G | WC: 523 | “I don’t think he’s the kind you save”, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pre-Relationship | AO3 |
Sam Searches for Bucky by @funsized-loser | Rated: M | WC: 1.1K | Sleeping Together, Sam Searches For Bucky, Fluff But a Little Bittersweet |
Right moment by noe3489 | Rated: T | WC: 1.3K | Sam Searches for Bucky, Past Sam Wilson/Riley, Hurt/Comfort | AO3 |
The Kind You Save by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 1.2K | “I don’t think he’s the kind you save”, this one’s angsty y'all, “You’re the one who gets saved.” hits you like a ton of bricks |
Distraction Tactics by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: T | WC: 1.1K | “Can you move your seat up?”, crack treated seriously, fluff with light angst | AO3 |
Acting Weird by noe3489 | Rated: N/A | WC: 803 | “Can you move your seat up?”, Pre-Slash, Idiots in Love | AO3 |
Won’t Let You Fall by @exbex | Rated: T | WC: 776 | Team Up at the Airport, Feelings Realization, Getting Together | AO3 |
At the airport by noe3489 | Rated: G | WC: 1K | Team up at the Airport, Pre-Slash, POV Steve Rogers | AO3 |
Post-WS/Sam-Finds-Bucky fics by @abarbaricyalp | SamBucky Fic Reclist | Rated: G-E | Seven Fics |
#tfatwsanniversary2024#sambucky#sam wilson#bucky barnes#sambucky fanfiction#sambucky edit#sambucky art#sambucky fic rec list#sambucky podfic#mod: thatmexisaurusrex
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Hey! I've been reading all of your Angel Dust stuff and I adore everything! I do have a request. I understand if you don't want to do this, or don't even see me.
Could you do a Drag Angel x Male Reader? I'd prefer it to be a little smutty, but you can add whatever you want with it!
Hope you have a great day!
Drag! Angel Dust x Male! Reader
A/n: I’ve gotten two requests for this surprisingly enough lol (important notice at end !!)
Warnings: None
Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌
🕸️ᥫ᭡ The first time Angel randomly walked into the hotel lobby in drag with you there, you weren’t too shocked. I mean c’mon, it’s Angel frickin’ Dust.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Plus he looked good in it sooo you were definitely not complaining
🕸️ᥫ᭡ If you’re good at makeup he might ask for some help with his makeup for drag
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Which is fun because you get to sit on his lap and chat while you do it. Fun bonding moment ‼️‼️
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Will wrap his arms around your waist while you’re doing it and yes will be flirting with you until your cheeks turn red
🕸️ᥫ᭡ He can’t help it !! It��s just the perfect opportunity to tease you :P
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Lets you give him advice on what outfit he should wear
🕸️ᥫ᭡ The only thing he won’t let you help out with is his hair or wig, he’s VERY particular about that for whatever reason.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Thanks you for all the help with a kiss on the forehead (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Of course, it’s overdramatic and with a “mmmwah!” Sound affect
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Overall drag is a fun thing for Angel and he’s glad he got to share that with you <33
Notice !!
Hey guys :)
I’ve been on hiatus for a while now and this is just kinda my explanation why and moving forward stuffs/plans for the future ദ്ദി(˵ - ᴗ - ˵)
Long story short my hyperfixation on Hazbin Hotel died out pretty quickly aannnddd life has been insane lately?? It’s like the AO3 fanfic writer curse hit me or something even though I mainly write on Tumblr lmfaooo
I’ll spare you the details but what’s been going on with me recently has kept me from creating really anything and the fact that the hyperfixation died out doesn’t help either. It’s hard to write about stuff I’m no longer very interested in.
That being said I don’t mind writing for Hazbin so send in your requests !! But I might not be able to get around to them as frequently as I used to.
Alsssooooo If you have other fandoms you’d like to see me write for I’ll see what I can do, so send in requests for other fandoms too (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚
Happy pride month !! And I’m sorry if I didn’t make much sense here lol, I’m terrible with words ironically enough
𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲
#asks open#pride month#gay#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#x reader#hazbin hotel headcanon#angel dust x reader#angel dust fluff#angel dust x male reader#angel dust headcanons#angel dust#hazbin hotel angel dust
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MCYT Drabble Exchange: Overview and Rules
Do you like writing? Do you like Minecraft youtubers? Do you, perhaps, like writing about Minecraft youtubers? Well, we do too! Only problem is, we often stay up late wagging our fists at a half-finished document, cursing the fact that writing is hard, life is busy and there's just not enough time in the day to sit down and make a good fic. Well, if you’re looking for a quick little block people centered writing challenge, then boy, do we have just the mini-event for you!
Welcome everyone to the 2024 (first ever!) MCYT Drabble Exchange!
TIMELINE: May 6th - sign ups open May 17th - sign ups close May 24th - all assignments sent May 25-26th - posting period May 26th 11:59pm BST - posting period ends [What time is it for me?] May 27th-June 2nd - treating week
SIGN UPS: [closed]
TREATING SHEET: [here]
RULES: 1. As per Tumblr and AO3 TOS, you must be over 13 to participate. 2. You agree to create a work of exactly 100 words by the given deadline, or contact a mod on Tumblr for your giftee to be reassigned. 3. You agree to abide by your giftee’s DNW. 4. Your work must focus on at least one requested character, but can include non requested characters. 5. All works must be MCYT-centric. 6. This is a 13+ exchange, there is no NSFW allowed. This applies to sexual content as well as extreme (e-rated) gore. 7. Make your gift in good faith - something that you think your giftee would like. 8. All violent/dark/triggering topics must be tagged appropriately. 9. No AI generated content.
POSTING: You can post your work to Tumblr or AO3, we don’t mind either! We do however require you make a Tumblr post tagging both this blog and your giftee. We have an AO3 Collection! Works posted to the collection might take a while to show up, so please don’t panic if you don't see yours! They need to be manually accepted.
So, what is a drabble? A drabble is a written work made up of exactly 100 words. Typically viewed as a challenge, drabbles are often meant to test a writer’s skill in brevity, seeing how efficiently they can communicate emotions or ideas through such tight restrictions. For this event, we are using this unique format to bring the joy of MCYT into the world! Think, how would a lighthearted interaction between Tubbo and Tommy play out? How many insults could Grian hurl at Jimmy? How much emotion can you squeeze out of QSMP Jaiden if you’ve only got her in your little writer hands for 100 words? For this event, we encourage you to be creative, try some new things, and most importantly, have fun! (To get a feel of what you’re working with, keep in mind that the previous paragraph has a word count of 120, twenty words over your limit!)
Are violent/triggering topics allowed? As MCYT content can often include violence, character death, murder games, and other such themes, we do allow them. However those are opt-in - if your giftee hasn’t asked for it, then don’t write it. If you do end up writing about these topics, make sure to tag appropriately!
What if I can’t finish on time? Contact us on this blog as soon as possible! A pinch hit will be sent out, and your giftee will be reassigned. If you do endup requesting a pinch hit, you will still get your own gift!
How will the matches be made? After the sign ups are done, the event mods will match everyone to ensure everyone gets to write what they signed up for! Once matches are made, you will receive your assignment via Tumblr DMs.
Can I make more than one gift? Of course! As long as it complies with your giftee’s requests you’re welcome to write as many drabbles as your heart desires!
I have a different question? Send us an ask or a DM!
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The fic manacled has me very curious in the I really want to open Pandora box in a morbid way. But at the same time I don't want to read it do to several reasons. Mainly is that I hate Harry being depicted as a irredeemable jerk in fics. Because Harry is one of my favorite characters. Hes my baby, hes what got me to love harry potter and to keep reading it. The second is I can't get into Dramione. I have respect for the shippers and wish I could get into the ship because God do their fandom and works looks so incredible. But I can't get into it because Draco is so very gay to me as a character and Hermione to me would never be interested in Draco romantically to me. Like ever. I'm not a fan of Rominone, but I can't see Dramione working out either. Drarry just hits more for me. It works. They are like soulmates to me. I can picture Harry with someone else but not Draco. At least not completely happy. Like to me Harry is Draco's soulmate.
All I know about this fic I learned against my will, but also have a Drarry friend that told me about it I shall put her message from me telling me all about how bad it is:
“Is it basically a re-telling of the handmaid's tale if you know? There is A LOT of r*pe in it (so let me indulge you against your will with the knowledge I have acquired against my will), so harry dies, muggleborns are kinda kept as slaves and hermione is one of them, draco is her r*pist and also the person who (at first at least) assault her, she is r//ped MANY times, like a lot. (which is why i find it gross that i've seen people saying those scenes are hot?) and there's also later on hermione saying draco is "not a monster" (even if he's her r*pist because "he didn't want to do it"), oh i also think it ends with ginny killing voldemort and not even draco or hermione which is odd? Hermione is also made to carry his child(ren) which i also assume she got pregnant against her will, and then draco take her to a remote island in japan where no one can find them and they "live happily ever after" (aka she's r*ped, forced to carry her r*pists children, develop some sort of stockholm syndrome and then forced to live with her r*pist and child on an isolated island???)”
And what she said about reactions of Dram*one shippers of that cursed Manac*ed fic:
“but if you ask a dram*one they will not say that, they will try and twist it about how it's about war and finding yourself and how to survive etc etc (also seen many people say "you'll like it when you get to book three" like?? if I need to read THREE books to like a story, it's not a good story?)”
And this:
“i lost the message but i saw you say somewhere "dram*ones just hate harry" and YES! senlinyu is known for being a harry hater (i also dislike her but that's another story), she basically thinks harry is this "oh noooo we must all be friends! we can't hurt anyway that's not good!" type of person (obvioulsy never read the books), hence why she either kills him off or dont have him in fics at all”
She also said this about what Dram*one writers do:
“i've heard people say that! Either as writers to deal with their own trauma via writing, or readers reading said fics! Dram*ones are just... retelling stories but make it dram*one lmao (like so many popular fics seem to have plots taken form existing media)”
And another wise thing she has said:
“speking of senlinyu, one thing I hate about not only dram*one fans but senlinyu and her cult following, is that insert they all use where it says senlinyuhas over "15 million downloads online" (and me being a dram*one hater did the math), like first of all we all know (apparently not) that you can't SEE downloads on ao3, there is literally no way too see how many people have downloaded you fic.
Second of all, girl show to use "hits" and not "kudos" which is way more accurate, but if she went with kudos there would only be a couple thousans and I guess she want those big numbers, like even adding AAALL her fics kudos isn't even near a million, hits on the other hand? that's so easily obtained but no one dare to question annything and when asked it's "i just found it on her website" “
So overall, I fully agree with my online friend there. I have blocked Dram*one from every platform I could lol. I stay in my Drarry bubble.
I will never indulge in the cursed fandom. Like, Draco is gay. Harry is amazing. Draco is also an amazing character by himself. They are so intertwined with each others lives and there is so much lore and things to build up on and create a beautiful and meaningful story for both. I especially love them healing together but not losing their core personalities and their bickering and how complicated their relationship is. I love it. The only two people who could understand one another in my opinion. Like in a deeper sense + THE INTENSITY OF THEIR FEELINGS. DAAMN.
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You’re probably not drunk anymore but if your still taking “drunk prompts”, would you think of writing a scene where Harry sees Ginny chatting with Viktor Krum (after a grueling quidditch match) and he’s all “big bloke and jealous “
Take care, and your co-writer is adorable
@takearisk-ao3
not me trying to rid of three prompts (that have been in my ask box for a year) in one. happy drunk prompts night
He watched her fall and thought he was going to be the one to die.
While the crowd around him reacted to the illegal hit the Ballycastle Bats' beater made, Harry felt his heart fall along with Ginny as she slipped off of her broom.
One, two, three feet she fell.
Admittedly, she was quite close to the ground when the bludger hit the tail of her broom, but that didn't make Harry feel much better. Her back hit the ground first, her feet and then her head hit the grass shortly after.
The crowd oohed, drowning out the sound of Ginny's string of curses she shouted at the whole Ballycastle team. In one swift motion, Ginny swung her leg back over her broom and raced off. With an outstretched hand, she intercepted the throw between the Ballycastle chasers. She threw the quaffle to her teammate and raced off to the hoops.
Harry watched closely monitoring each move.
She was slightly out of formation on the Hawkshead formation. Was she concussed?
Was that a flash of her read hair on her forehead or was that blood?
She scored that goal with her left arm not her right, did she hit her right arm when she hit the ground?
The match ended 47 minutes and 31 seconds later, not that Harry was counting, when the Harpies seeker caught the snitch while the Ballycastle seeker was looking in the opposite direction.
Harpies win, 370 to 180.
Ginny and her teammates practically danced off the field, hooting and hollering at their win, but Harry's anxiety still did not subside. He knew she would be escorted back to the Healer's room as protical since she was knocked off her broom during a match. He just hoped she was actually okay.
Harry pushed his way through the crowd, making his way to the back. It was one of the few times he was thankful to be so recognizable. He waved to the Harpies security guard as he let him in the back of the stadium.
Down the hallway from Healer's room, Harry could hear Ginny laugh. Good. Harry thought, calming some of his anxiety. If Ginny was laughing that meant she couldn't be that badly hurt.
Pushing open the door, Harry stopped short, realizing the source of Ginny's laughter.
Victor Krum.
Harry had never understood his best friend any more than in that moment because why was famous Quidditch star, Triwizard Tournament competitor, Victor Krum, talking with Harry's girlfriend?
Why was famous Quidditch star, Triwizard Tournament comeptitor, Victor Krum, making his girlfriend laugh?
Why did Ginny laugh at something famous Quidditch star, Triwizard Tournament comeptitor, Victor Krum, say?
"You look quite unsettled over there, Potter," Ginny said grinning at him.
"Harry! It is so good to see you again," Krum said in his stupid accent. "I was hoping I you would be here today." Krum strolled to Harry with an outstretched hand.
Harry crossed his arms, "Why wouldn't I be at my girlfriend's match?"
Ginny rolled her eyes, "Don't worry about my boyfriend's attitude, Victor, he gets all grumpy whenever I fall off of my broom."
Victor!? Harry gets called Potter, but Krum get's called Victor?
"I do not get grumpy," But Harry's voice faded at the end of his sentence with Ginny's pointed look at him, his hand finally meeting Krum's in a handshake.
"I vas at the game because I was told to scout out Ballycastle's beaters," Krum grimmaced, "vas not impressed."
Harry begrudgingly agreed.
"But, I was very impressed with Ginny over here. That Chelmondiston Charge you pulled off right after intercepting the quaffle vas spectacular."
"She is spectacular," Harry stated, matter-of-factly.
Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.
"I just wanted to compliment her and talk her out of ever joining England's professional team. Bulgaria doesn't need anymore competition," Krum winked at Harry like it was some inside joke. "Vell, I get out of both of your hair. Tell Fleur ello from me when you see her next."
The door clicked shut after Krum, and silence filled the room for just a moment before Ginny burst out into laughter.
"You are so jealous!" She accused him.
"Am not!" Harry lied.
"I cannot wait to talk about Hermione about this," Ginny grinned.
#drunk prompts#let me pour another glass of wine#hinny#this took way longer to write than normal for me lol#i made a tik tok in the middle of writing this lol
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Any ETA on when you'll post your Invisobang fic? (This isn't me trying to hurry you I am genuinely just curious so I know when to look for it)
HEY GUYS!!
first off I just wanted to say i am so so happy to see the excitement for this fic??? like its so crazy to me to see so so so many people hyped for it sbgkhskshgs i hope i deliver something good :") i think it's not gonna be what people expect it to be, it's a combination of factors that I haven't seen anywhere on ao3, so im excited to see reactions lol. im still happy so many of yall wanna read it,, soobbign... cyring....
during the IB months I wrote 6 out of 8 chapters, abt 3k words each? is that a solid amount of words per chapter? no clue tbh. plus I had to rewrite a bunch, oops. I really am Not a fast writer
and so much has been happening irl, ive been hella busy :( honestly i was very much hit with the ao3 author curse lmao
and thus, many delays. but I am currently finishing the last two chapters, and once I finish this one i'll start posting!!
soooo, ETA?
Sunday the 15th!!
or maybe monday the 16th. my posting deadline is this weekend so i wanna start sharing things already ^^ and i'll prooobably post a chapter every two days >:) yippee
shout out to @zillychu (here!) and @they-bite (here!) for making the art for this fic. theyre absolute angels, incredible jaw-dropping awe-inspiring breath-taking artists <3333 GO GO GO LOOK AT THEIR ART PIECES !!! thank you both for being so so patient with how long this fic is taking. YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTE SWEETHEARTS!! you were both so supportive with everything, your excitement really fueled me to keep going with this wild fic, and i am so so so grateful for having been paired with two of my absolute favorite phandom artists. the stars really aligned to put me on a team with the kindest most skilled more ingenious artists i've seen around these parts, two artists that chose to make art for my silly little goofy fic, and i am beyond thankful. yall are gems <3
thank you guys for being so patient as well!!! <3
#ananapost#my writing#my fic#danny phantom#dp#danny fenton#mr lancer#class time fic#invisobang#invisobang 2024#invisobang2024#ib 2024#phandom#guys i am so so so so sorry for all the delays#i am a puddle on the floor slowly evaporating into a cloud of sorrows#my b guys#genuinely#these months have been aueghhhh#but we push through#and i'm almost done !!!#yipee#I AM SO SORRY FOR KEEPING EVERYONE WAITING
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THE HOSPITAL?? literally a "sorry I haven't uploaded the fic I was in jail" again
real, i got hit with the ao3 writer curse of something insane happening to me
~ mod lichenbark
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i think i got hit with the ao3 writers curse because how is it this week a rat came out of my wall from high up and his stupid fat balls landed on my glasses and i started screaming. is this what i get for writing self indulgent sex fanfiction between me and wrys where i have gentle loving sex with that old man™️
- 🪻 anon who is cursed now i guess
D:
#fe#fire emblem#wrys fire emblem#character thirst#𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 emblem#fe1/3/11/12#fire emblem archanea#archanea#🪻faux lavender anon🪻
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