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bookmaker-untaken · 3 months

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you're ugly, you're disgusting - give me 200 horses

Suo Hayato x Reader // Mythology AU

Summary: To marry you, a suitor must beat you in hand-to-hand combat. Or do whatever the fuck Suo did instead.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, OOC!Suo, Probably (Look, I Tried), Misogyny

Word Count: 1, 953

Contrary to popular belief whispered throughout the steppe, you do not hate men.

But, by god, are they a stupid bunch.

There is this story your Father liked to tell after a few drinks, of you, as a toddler, gripping a snake by the throat and happily slamming him into the ground, repeatedly.

So why are men always surprised when they end up in the same spot?

Your most recent challenger groans from the ground, dust settling around him.

"Three...two...one!"

The fight master holds up your hand once more and you grin.

Behind you, there is familiar laughter and clapping, your Father waving you back to the cushioned seat near him.

"That's my daughter! A force to be reckoned with!"

He claps a hand on your back and shakes you a little and you smirk.

The man with the eyepatch and expensive clothes lowers his cup of honey wine, a tranquil smile adoring his features. "Your fighting technique is quite impressive."

You look over at him, up then down. His robes make it hard to tell what kind of stature he has, hard to tell what kind of fighter he might be.

"Most men still challenge me afterwards. I hardly receive compliments."

"Fight you?" He laughs, and the small jewel attached to the eyepatch quivers. "I would most certainly lose."

You give him a look out of the side of your face. Somehow, you know he's bluffing. He might put up a good fight at the very least, and that in itself would be a miracle.

"You are wise, Suo! My daughter is well versed in combat!"

You watch this Suo for his reaction. He shows you nothing, taking another sip of wine.

"You see, my daughter has one rule for suitors! They must beat her in hand-to-hand combat!"

"Oh?" He says, sounding genuinely interested. This, too, is rare. "And what happens when they lose, as that man did?"

"They owe me a horse." You say, chin raised, daring him to speak ill of your methods as many often do.

"Huh." He says. "How many horses do you have?"

"1,000." You say, smirk curving on the corner of your lips.

"Wow," He says, sounding genuinely impressed. "That is quite amazing!"

"And a hassle! We hardly have room for them all," Your Father laughs.

ii.

The arrow sings through the breeze, hitting its perfect mark.

You're almost boring to watch with your accuracy and skill.

The Merchant speaks to your Father under a richly colored tarp.

"You must forgive my daughter," You hear when you go to pick up more arrows. "She worries for me."

"It's cute," Suo replies.

Your face wrinkles in confusion and he laughs.

"Don't let my daughter hear you say that," Your Father leans over, whispering conspiratorially. "She might bite your head off."

"Right," You say loudly, another arrow piercing the bullseye. "Like that would be the optimal way of killing someone."

The smile on Suo's face remains, despite your dark joke.

iii.

The other girl scoffs and storms away, leaving your handmaiden and best friend Líu.

"What happened?"

Liú gives you a one armed shrug, putting another cloth into the basket at her hip. "Well, I told her I had my first time with my husband the other day,"

Your eyes widen. “How … how was it?”

“Somewhat underwhelming,” Líu admits. “I think she was expecting more of a story?"

You had the heard stories girls gossiped in the night. Sometimes horrifying, sometimes filthy, seldom in between.You supposed you had been wondering, even if you never asked.

"Don't get me wrong, I love my husband but ... it was just fine."

"'Just fine', huh.” You laugh, eyes crinkling. “So I suppose there really is no reason to stop throwing them into the dirt, then?”

Liú laughs. "I suppose not. But getting married wouldn't be the end of the world, either. Whichever you choose, I know it'll be true to you.”

"You have a lot of faith in me.” You say, puffing your chest.

“Of course!”

iv.

Another day, another victory.

The man hits the dust and you're already turning around to walk away, not seeing him scramble to grab a saucer from a plate and fling it at you.

But you do see the hand cast out before you, blocking your vision.

"Come now," Says Suo, smile taking an odd sort of edge. "There's no need to be a sore loser!"

"You have good reflexes, Merchant," You say.

"Thank you!" Suo drops the saucer into your outstretched hand.

"Though, you absolutely stole my thunder."

"Sorry," He says, scratching his cheek. "My hand moved on my own."

"You're going to have to make it up to me," You say, still smirking. "Tomorrow. Archery grounds."

Suo is just as much of a challenge as you had predicted.

You often tie.

You await his return to visit your Father and give him a new challenge each time.

He's fantastic with a polearm, but often lets go of the arrow too early.

Your horses adore him, even the most stubborn old girls allowing him to feed them carrots.

He tells you stories of his travels, and in exchange you regale him with your exploits.

vi.

"Your next challenger..." Your Mother says. "He's a good man."

"They often are?" You say with a quirk of the brow. You feel the trap closing in on you, even if you do not know what it is for.

She sighs, seeing that such a method would not work on you. "I want you to throw the match."

"What?!"

You look to your Father, who says nothing.

Your Mother continues. "He comes from a good family and - "

"What of our honor!"

"This is honorable!"

You look again to your Father, who simply shrugs. "It is your decision in the end. I trust our judgment."

You stand in front of the man considering the conversation from earlier.

“100 Horses.” He is saying. “I bet I could beat you.”

“The men before you said the same.”

He spits. “The men before me were nothing.”

You do not throw the match.

vii.

On a later visit, you and Suo are returning from a hunt, when you tell that story.

You wait for his reply.

"Hm. Good."

You're surprised.

"Hmm?”

"I just thought you would have taken more of a ... business minded approach?"

"I think it was merciful," He said. "Any fighter worth their salt would have been able to tell if you threw a fight."

"Have you ever thrown a fight?" You ask. "Is that how you lost your eye?"

"Nothing nearly as interesting as that," He says smoothly.

"Aww," You smirk.

"Is there an interesting reason you started fighting your suitors?"

"Because I have to," You say automatically, then seal your lips. It dawns on you that nobody has asked you that question before. "Well..."

You look up into the sky as you think. He doesn't need an answer, you know. And he doesn't deserve an explanation. But you've already started thinking. On one hand, it's instinctual - you cannot help but not go down easily.

"My grandmother ... was taken from her home by a foreign prince, my grandfather. And on her deathbed, she longed for it."

Suo is silent, waiting. He watches you intently.

"She made me promise as a little girl for that never to be my fate. To never let any man possess me. "

Suo looks at you for a long time. "I cannot claim to completely understand, but I do empathize."

You make a sound in response.

“Though. It is a lot of weight to put on a child.”

viii.

"So," Liú says. "Is there something going on with you and that Merchant?"

You stop cleaning your sword for a second to look up at her, "You mean something other than friendly competition?"

"There are rumors,"

"You know how I feel about rumors."

"I do!” She say, plopping down next to you. “Which is why I came to you instead,"

"Suo is great competition. More than the likes I've ever seen before."

"And that's it?"

You pause. "Should there be more?"

"No," Liu says with a loose shrug. "There doesn't have to be."

ix.

It's a sharp second, like a pinprick - attacks you suddenly like a bird of prey..

The sunlight hits Suo's hair just right and it's like it glows.

A terror grips you by the back of the neck.

You shove the feeling away and decide to deal with it another time.

And then the rumors start.

The rumors that the reason your so object to marriage is that you are in a secret relationship with your Father.

You balk. It's ridiculous! Why would anybody believe such a thing!

Your surprised when your Father calls you to his tent, full of onlookers.

"You must get married."

You laugh. "You're going to let some silly rumor decide for you!? You might as well let it run your court as well!"

"No," He says. "I've let this charade go on for far too long. It's not fit for a young woman to remain unmarried like this."

"You're joking."

His face is unmoving. You realize he is not relenting.

"Father. Father! You can't just offer my hand to some stranger! ... Please!"

He closes his eyes. "One year. You have one year to choose."

xi.

When Suo returns, he cannot find you.

"She rides every day," Your Father tells him. "From dawn till dusk."

When you return, you give him a smirk that doesn't meet your eyes.

"What happened?"

You start to tell him, the emotions swimming in your eyes, but instead say, "Ride with me."

The moon illuminates your shadows.

You approach a shimmering lake, looking at its surface. "My father wishes for me to get married."

"Ah."

"I -" You are crying. The tears that squeeze out of your eyes are of desperation. "I know of none who would wish to marry me of their own accord, so I am to be promised to a stranger."

Suo is silent.

"I have fought my whole life for my freedom and now I will be remembered for my failure!"

"You didn't fail."

You look at him, crystalline tears still falling.

"You never lost."

"But I did!" You say. "Because I fell for somebody!"

"Falling in love is not losing," He says. "And knowing you, knowing the decisions you make - the person you fell for would probably never have you give up on yourself. If they do, it isn't love."

"You don't understand!” You snap, fists forming at your side.”I do not know if I'll ever be able to love them like anyone else! I respect them! But what if it is not love? What if it is all I am capable of? You do not wish a life with me!"

"That is not for you to decide," Suo says, then after a moment, “Fight me.”

“What?”

“A King once told me that fighting is a conversation of one’s souls. You have something to tell me, don’t you? Fight me.”

You begin to walk from behind your horse. “You have to be serious.”

He nods. “I will.”

“Even if you think you can’t win.”

He begins to stand in a fighting position. “I’ll try.”

You shift into your fighting position. "Then come!"

The two of you lunge at each other. He’s faster than you are, and reflects most of your attacks, but when you finally manage to grapple him he hits the ground hard. The two of you dance along the moonlit shore to a rhythm nobody else will ever hear.

The two of you fall to the ground at the same time, panting and sweating.

You laugh.

#wind breaker x reader #suo hayato x reader #my fanfiction #fanfic #probably mid af guys

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nyoomfruits · 2 months

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hello i am once again gently nudging you towards loscar with ³⁾ “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” from the roommates to lovers section 🫶🏻

i actually went happy this time r u proud of me

“i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.”

“Hey,” Logan says, looking up from where he’s sprawled out on the couch, Playstation controller in hand, bag of chips open next to him. There had been a part of Oscar who had hoped he’d gone to bed already, so Oscar could’ve slipped in unnoticed, stumble into his bedroom and mope about the sorry state of his life, but then again. It was only 9. Which was kind of the whole problem.

Logan’s face turns sympathetic. “I’m guess that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went, huh?” He asks, as Oscar flops onto the couch next to him with a deep sigh, not even bothering to take of his jacket or his shoes.

“Fucking hell,” he says, letting his head tip backwards against the couch pillows.

“So?” Logan asks, nudging him in the side. He’s wearing soft gray sweatpants and a t-shirt Oscar is 90% sure once belonged to him. “What was wrong with this one?”

Oscar winces. “When you say it like that you’re making me sound like some kind of overly critical serial dater.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. Oscar sighs. “Nothing, alright. Just like there was nothing wrong with the last one, or the one before that, or the one before that. They’re all just. Fine.”

“But none of them feel right,” Logan says, nodding knowingly. “It’s okay, we will find you the right person. They have to be out there, right?” He tips his head towards Oscar, beaming smile on his face. Logan has that, that undying believe in The One, that hunger for romance and meet cutes and The Perfect Moment. Oscar likes that about him. Loves that about him, his undying optimism when it comes to love.

He likes it a little less when Logan is using all that optimism to find Oscar The One, especially when Oscar has already found his One ages ago. He’s currently sitting next to him on the couch, Playstation controller in hand, looking at him with big hopeful eyes.

And god. If he knew there was a chance, if Logan had ever given a sign. But he hadn’t. He had just been cheery, sweet, optimistic Logan, the same way he was with their friends, and so Oscar had gone along with it, the whole Finding The One thing. It was good for him, he thought, going out there. Meeting other people. Seeing if there’s someone out there for him.

But every date, all that happens is that it confirms what deep in his heart he already knows: that he’s in love with Logan, and no one is ever going to be Logan. He’d cut tonight’s date short after only half an hour, not wanting to waste the girl’s time when she was clearly so into it, not wanting to string her on.

And it’s getting exhausting, so exhausting. The disappointed faces when he tells them there’s not going to be a second date, when he goes home early, when he leaves. The reminder, the constant reminded, that the one thing he wants, he cannot have.

“Maybe we should stop,” Oscar says, mostly to the TV, where Logan’s game is paused. “Trying to find me someone, I mean.”

“What? No, Oscar you can’t give up,” Logan stresses, turning all the way towards him. “We’ll find them! They have to be out there, right?”

Oscar closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, turns towards Logan. “What if I’ve already found them?” He asks, and god. Is he. Is he really doing this. Is he doing this now.

Why not now? His brain whispers. If not now, when?

“Oh,” Logan says, and his face turns almost painfully neutral. “Wait, really? When?”

“Ten years ago,” Oscar says. “First day of college.”

Logan blinks at him. “What,” he says, and then his face turns into a frown. “Oscar, what the fuck, have you been… Jesus, why have I been putting all this effort in to find you someone then? If this whole time-“

“I didn’t know if they liked me back,” Oscar says.

“And now?” Logan asks. He’s frowning, and Oscar wants to kiss the little lines between his eyebrows, take all his worries away.

“I don’t know,” Oscar says. “But it think it’s time I try.”

“Right,” Logan says. “Well, I still would’ve liked if you told me. We’re still best friends, and all. And roommates. Like I feel like this is stuff you would tell your roommate/best friend, you know? I mean, I’m not mad, about the dates, but I just think-“

Oscar cuts him off. Rather effectively, if he says so himself. His mouth presses against Logan’s half open one, and as far as kisses go, it’s a bit clumsy. The angle’s all wrong, and Oscar is still in his coat, and Logan is gripping the Playstation controller like it’s his only life line, and it’s really more a press of lips before Oscar is pulling away again.

“It’s uh. You,” he says. “The person. That’s why I didn’t. Well. Tell you,” Oscars says, a little awkwardly. It’s hard to guess what Logan’s thinking, which sucks, because usually the guy’s an open book. They didn’t kiss long enough for Oscar to definitely day he kissed back, and now Logan is just staring at him, slightly open mouthed.

“Oh,” he eventually says. “I. Wait. Why didn’t. Why didn’t you think I liked you back?” He asks, and Oscar’s heart does a little jump. Does that mean?

“You’ve been actively been setting me up with other people. For years,” Oscar says.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Logan says, looking a little bashful all of a sudden. “I just, you know. If it wasn’t going to be me, I just. I wanted to be someone good. Someone that deserved you.”

“What about you,” Oscar says, swallows. “Could you be… Are you someone good?”

Logan smiles, and it breaks open his whole face, lights him up like he’s the sun to Oscar’s moon. “Some might even say the best,” he says, with a cheeky little grin, and Oscar is too relieved to scold him on his cockiness, so instead he surges forward again, presses their lips together in another kiss.

A proper one, this time.

#loscar #drabble

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cupidddd-d · 2 years

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always the fool with the slowest heart

in which james potter would do anything to get lily evans to fall in love with him, even if it means dating you for 2 years and breaking your heart.

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

you couldn't remember a time ever not being in love with james potter. for you, he was always the one. you had first seen him in your first year as you boarded the hogwarts express. it was only a glimpse through the window, but it was enough for you to realize that he was it. there was never going to be anyone else. he was laughing with his friends and radiating with happiness.

you wanted to make him smile. you wanted to be the one to make him throw his head back with uncontrollable laughter. and somehow, you made that happen. you were able to weasel your way into his heart, and being able to know him just made you fall even harder. and for a moment, it was almost as if he felt the same way about you.

he had gotten rejected by lily for the thousandth time when he declared in true teenage boy dramatics, "i'm over evans. i'm tired of asking her out when all she'll say is no. i'm all yours, mates. forget love!"

and for a year, that was true. until he professed his feelings for you in front of the entire great hall. without even questioning it, you accepted him gladly. sure, you noticed his eyes wandering across the gryffindor table, searching for lily, but you naively brushed it off. after all, he had you now. what need would he have for lily?

you had kept your optimism until you realized lily was jealous, and james was catching onto it like a shark with blood. you saw her long, yearning looks at james from across the table. you saw her shoulders slump when james smugly slung his long arms across you. and you definitely saw how james made direct eye contact with lily every time he kissed you.

it made you uncomfortable, but you continued to brush it off. james loved you. right? you didn't mind when he became distant. you didn't mind when he started blowing you off because lily needed him. and you certainly didn't mind when he would leave you in the library alone because lily needed his help with transfiguration. you didn't mind because at the end of the day, it was you he was coming back to. of course, that was until he didn't come back to you.

"sorry babe, lily needs my help with mcgonagall's homework!"

"i'm so sorry my love, i promised lily i'd go to hogsmeade with her,"

"i know, i know, but i have to go. i told lily i'd meet up with her before the test."

"god, y/n, i told you this already. i have to study with lily."

but you held strong because you both were still dating. never mind the fact that you barely saw each other anymore.

"please, james, i'm begging you! just one date! we've barely seen each other these last few months." you begged, tugging on his arm. but this time he didn't tolerate it with an easy smile.

"are you serious right now? you're being so clingy. i think we've seen each other quite enough. now if you'll excuse me, i have to meet lily at the black lake." james tugged his arm roughly out of your grip and walked away before you could respond.

you stood in the middle of the hall, shocked and hurt. shaking yourself out of your stupor, you ran to the black lake, trying to find james. and you found him, but he was with lily. kissing lily. smiling at lily in a way he never had with you.

oh. oh. no. tears didn't even form in your eyes as you numbly walked away and back into your dorm. it was only there that your thoughts began spiralling.

how long had this been going on? lily was your friend. why would she do this? why would james betray you like this? did anyone else know? why didn't anybody tell you? did james ever love you?

you had given him everything. your heart and your soul. he was your moon, your stars, and your sun. he was everything to you, but you clearly weren't to him.

#marauders #james potter x gender neutral reader #james potter x gn!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #hogwarts #harry potter #lily evans #Spotify

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sacredjake · 1 year

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To Be Loved By You

pairing: sam kiszka x reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: angst, pining, fluff, drinking. let me know if i missed anything

i’ve gone back and forth on this fic and almost wasn’t going to post it, but here we are. this fic is very, very loosely based off the song To Be Loved By You by Parker McCollum. every time i heard it i just had this vision in my head for some reason and needed it out :) huge thank you to @malany-gvf and @gretasimp for proofreading and editing <3

———————

“So? What do you think?”

The words bounced around in your head, creating a hollow echo against your brain. You should be ecstatic, over the moon, jumping with joy. Part of you was, but another part of you just felt sad. And you hated yourself for it.

“Oh my god… Is it that bad?!” Seth’s panicked words brought you back from the corner in your mind where you had been hiding away.

“Oh no! No! Seth, it’s perfect. Em is going to absolutely freak and say yes. Honestly, you planned the perfect proposal and I am so excited for you both!” You quickly shoved your sadness deep down to reassure him that his engagement proposal to your best friend is perfect.

And it was. Seth had everything planned out exactly as you would expect, so when your best friend, Emily, said “yes” you were not surprised in the slightest. You were extremely happy for them both, but it also loomed over you as a reminder of how awful your own love life was.

You had never been in a serious relationship and every date you went on was an utter disaster. The guy was either a creep, or wasn’t interested in actually dating. After so many years of your closest friends falling in love and getting married, you were starting to turn bitter and sad about the subject of love entirely.

“Ugh, Sam, you should’ve seen it. It was absolutely perfect, and of course she said yes because I mean, how could she not?!” You exasperate over the phone to your best friend as you walk inside your apartment and drop your keys on the kitchen counter.

“And the way he looked at her? My god he looked at her like she was the only woman to ever walk the earth. And when she said yes? I just can’t even take it anymore. I am beyond happy for her, I am, but when is it gonna be my turn? When am I going to fall in love? When am I going to have a guy look at me like I am the only woman to ever exist?”

Sam gave you a hefty sigh from the other end of the phone as you continued to ramble and pity yourself, voice beginning to crack from the heavy emotions you felt.

You made your way through your apartment towards your bathroom to get ready for bed, petting your cat who lay on the armrest of the couch along the way.

“C’mon y/n, stop talking like that. There are tons of guys out there who would fall at your feet if you so much as glanced their way. Maybe your time is coming soon.” Sam effectively cut off your rambling, but his words of optimism didn’t help. If anything they drove you closer to tears.

As you entered the bathroom, you could feel your throat closing and water starting to prickle in your eyes, your chest tightening with hurt and sorrow. You shut the door with your back pressed against the wood and slide down the length of it until you were sitting on the cool tile.

“Don’t say that to me, Sam. Please. I’ll only get my hopes up for nothing to happen. Constantly reminded that I’m unloved.” You choked back a sob trying not to cry to your best friend on the phone. You have done enough of that these days.

Sam has heard and seen it all. He was the person you were able to go to with these things because unlike all of your other friends, he was single. He knew what it felt like to be lonely and want someone to share things with. But my god was he so optimistic and hopeful with you, always ensuring that there was someone out there for you.

“You are not unlovable, Angel. Far from it. You just need to… I don’t know… gain a new perspective on things?” His nickname for you caused another round of sobs to wrack through your body. It wasn’t often that he called you Angel anymore, but when he did it was always in situations like this. When you needed it most.

He sounded sad and longing, but you were too wrapped up in your own pity to even notice. It stayed silent for a few moments while you tried to pull it together, Sam giving you time to gather yourself.

“I think I’m going to go to bed. Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything for you, Angel.”

“Could you be my plus one for this wedding? I know I will be in the bridal party, but I don’t think I can stomach it without you.” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes once again as you spoke.

“I would love to be your plus one. I’ll be there.” His voice was soft and gentle, calming your emotions once again. You took a deep breath and stood from your place on the ground.

“Thank you, Sam. I appreciate you so much.” You gave a slight smile even though he couldn’t see you.

“Anytime, Angel. I’m always here. Get some rest, okay? Goodnight.” You could picture the look on his face perfectly in your mind. Eyes and smile soft and warm on his face as he bid you goodnight.

“Goodnight, Sam.” Ending the call and you continued your regular nightly routine, but still feeling weighed down by your own heart, the sadness lingering. You knew eventually it would subside, but tonight was another night in which you would fall asleep alone, wishing for the comfort of another.

—————————-

As the months passed on, Emily had asked you to be a bridesmaid, as you had suspected she would. You were thrilled to be a part of her big day in this way, but being a bridesmaid also meant you were constantly talking about wedding things and love. Which songs they will play, what song they wanted their first dance as a married couple to be, what kind of cake and flowers and decorations they would have. It was exhausting.

By the time the wedding rolled around you were grateful the whole ordeal was going to be over. Part of it was the stress of having bridesmaid responsibilities, but the other was because it was a constant reminder that you were alone. All of the other bridesmaids were either taken or married which didn’t help the resentment towards love that you were beginning to feel after months of helping plan this wedding. Not that you would ever let it show around them or Em, but you couldn’t wait to be out from under its crushing weight.

You vented to Sam about the wedding and how you felt, frequently. You would have felt bad constantly burdening him with your emotions had you been able to see past them. He never faltered and always seemed willing to listen and give advice. You were thankful that you had him, and even more thankful that he still agreed to come with you to the wedding.

“Alright people! It’s showtime!” Em’s sister, Audrey gathered the attention of the bridal party, signaling that the wedding was about to begin. You walked over to Em one last time before finding your place among the other bridesmaids.

“Congratulations, Em. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I am so happy for you.” You lightly grasped her shoulders as you spoke. Tears began to well in both of your eyes and deciding neither of you could afford to ruin your makeup now you added with a pointed finger, “And if Seth ever hurts you, I will kick his ass.” Causing you both to laugh lightly.

“I know you will, y/n. I know you will.” She shook her head giggling slightly. You let go of her shoulder to give her a tight hug, basking in each other for a moment. You pulled away from Em giving her a soft smile before joining the other bridesmaids to begin the wedding procession.

As you joined the groomsman you had been paired with and marched down the aisle, you searched for Sam. His eyes found yours in the crowd of people sitting in the pews and he shot you a smile and wink, earning a smile from you in return.

The way Seth watched Em walk down the aisle pulled on your heart, drawing it near your stomach. His eyes were solely focused on her, tears threatening to break through as she approached closer with every step. You longed for someone to look at you that way, to love you that deeply and strongly.

The ceremony was beautiful and filled with tears from all throughout the church. You cheered loudly as the newlyweds walked out to their awaiting car to be swept off towards the reception venue. Eventually you were able to find Sam among the sea of people leaving their places in the pews.

“Thank you for coming, Sam.” You greeted him with a hug and bright smile, though he could see the sadness that held your eyes. He immediately wrapped his arms around your frame, hugging you close with his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. He was intoxicating. His warmth, his smell, his touch, everything about him soothed you and drew you in.

“Anything for you, always.” He squeezes you tightly before letting go. Gesturing you to walk outside, you followed his direction out of the church and into the warm spring air.

“Nice suit, I didn’t know you could clean up this well.” You nodded to his outfit of choice. He was wearing a deep red blazer and dress pants set that complimented his skin well. You ran your hand down the sleeve of his blazer feeling the crushed red velvet beneath your fingers.

“Not so bad yourself. I think fuschia suits you.” He nodded his head back towards you and gave you a wink. You wrinkled your nose and pretended to gag at his words.

“Please, you know I hate the color pink.”

“You never listen, huh? This isn’t just pink, it’s fuschia.” Sam huffed jokingly. Shaking your head you lightly shoved his shoulder with your hand, barely pushing him away from you.

“It’s still a shade of pink, dummy.” You looked around and noticed that most of the guests had cleared out of the vicinity, more than likely heading to the reception hall. “We should probably get going though. Mind if I ride with you to the reception? I rode with Audrey here.”

“Not at all. This way, milady.” Sam held his arm out for you to loop yours through, guiding you to his car. Your time with Sam didn’t last long, as you had to perform your last bridesmaid duty. Pictures.

You didn’t mind this aspect of being a bridesmaid, it was just extremely tedious, and you were not a fan of having your picture taken. You were relieved when the photographer announced that they would be taking pictures of the newlyweds and you were free to join the guests in the reception hall.

As you walked into the open ballroom you began scanning the area for Sam, finding him sitting at a table with his back to you, in what looked to be a deep conversation with a girl. She was laughing at something he said with her hand on his upper arm, leaning in closer to him. You instantly felt anger bubbling inside of you, rising up to your face. You couldn’t explain why you felt this way, but you were definitely feeling an odd tinge of jealousy. Deciding to bypass Sam and the girl, you walked straight to the bar to order a drink. Thank god Em and Seth insisted on having an open bar, you were going to need the liquor.

As you waited in line, you felt a hand gently land on the backside of your tricep. Turning your head slightly you were met with Sam’s face looking down at you, a soft smile gracing his lips. You offered the best smile you could muster, shoving the ugly green monster back into his little box and turned back to face the bar.

Sam still felt the shift in your mood as you turned away from him without a word. He dropped his hand from your arm, and opted to not bring it up in fear that it would only upset you further.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender looked up from the current order they were working on as you approached the bar.

“Can I have a jack and coke, please?” Sam glanced at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at the drink you ordered. You didn’t drink jack and coke unless you were planning on getting drunk, fast, and he knew it.

“And for you?” The bartender looked towards Sam waiting to fill his order.

“Tequila soda, please.” The bartender got to work on your drinks as you and Sam stood in silence. In a few moments you both had your drinks and were heading back towards the table you saw Sam sitting at with the girl earlier. Although, this time she was nowhere to be found.

“Drinking heavy tonight?” Sam nodded his head towards the drink in your hand as you sat down, taking a sip of your jack and coke.

“I figured I’d need something stronger than my usual to get me through tonight.” You shrugged, taking another sip. You weren’t sure it was even possible, but his eyes softened more at your reply. He rested his hand on your knee and gave it a light squeeze. Even through the fabric of your dress, your skin felt warm under his touch.

His hand didn’t linger for long as he picked up his glass and tilted it towards yours. “Then drink we shall.” He gently knocked his glass against yours before lifting it to his lips.

The night went on, and Sam helped lift your mood as toasts were made, food was served and drinks were downed. You were definitely feeling slightly drunk from the rounds of drinks you frequently got, and that helped to soothe the sting of heartache. However, your mood quickly turned sour once again as the cake was being cut and the couple shared their first dance as husband and wife.

“Why can’t I have that? Look at the way they’re staring into each other’s eyes… I want someone to love me like that.” You sighed, chin resting on your arm that was draped over the back of your chair. “No one has ever looked at me that way. No one has ever wanted me that way.” You cast your eyes down to the empty drink in your hand and sighed again.

“I’m going to get another drink.”

You stood, earning a huff from Sam as you set the glass on the table. His large hand wrapped around your wrist as you began to leave, stopping you in your tracks. You turned back to face him, shooting him a questioning look, eyebrows raised.

“I think you’ve had enough, y/n.” Sam’s voice was stern as his downturned eyes bore into your own. You scoffed at him. Anger seeped into your body, boiling in your veins. Who was he to cut you off?

“Excuse me?” You bit back at him, tone venomous as you tried to pull your wrist from his grasp to no avail. He wasn’t budging, his hand like a vice around your wrist.

Still holding onto you he rose out of his seat coming face to face with you. “God, how blind are you?!” His voice was hushed so as to not draw attention, but his tone was cutting, teeth clenched. You stared at him, eyes wide, confused and not daring to speak. You had never seen Sam so angry before, and especially not so quickly.

“You don’t see it, do you? Of course you don’t, you’re so self-absorbed in your own sorrow to even notice.” His hand finally let go of your wrist at his last word slicing through the air. You stood there shocked and shaking from anger.

“What the hell are you-“

“Forget it, y/n.” Sam shook his head before he stormed off towards the exit of the reception hall. You stood there for just a moment as he walked by before you turned on your heel and stormed after him. Thankfully no one noticed the interaction between the two of you as they were all watching the happy couple dance.

Sam exited the hall through a small door that led out into the foyer of the building with you hot on his heels. The room was dark, only being lit from the moon and lightning flashes as a thunderstorm rolled in. “Go away, y/n. Leave me alone.” He spat as he continued to walk towards the exit of the building, crossing the room quickly due to the stride of his long legs.

“No! What the hell are you talking about?! Why are you so angry?” You practically yelled and he stopped in his tracks, one hand resting on each of the giant double doors that lead outside. He shook his head and gave a cold, mirthless laugh as a flash of lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the mostly empty room for a short, fleeting moment.

“That’s exactly it! Don’t you get it? You don’t even realize!” He pushed away from the door, turning back to walk towards you.

“Realize what, Sam?!”

“What the hell does a man have to do to be loved by you?!” He stopped in front of you, his face less than a foot from your own, breaths coming out heavy and uneven. His tone was angry and frantic, but his face was sad and pleading. Desperate, wanting. Begging.

“Tell me! Enlighten me, please! What do I have to do for you to love me back?!” You felt your entire body turn cold and rigid as Sam confessed his love to you, a small gasp hung in the back of your throat.

“You always come to me crying. Angry. Longing… And it kills me everytime! I hate seeing you cry. I hate knowing that when we hang up you cry yourself to sleep because I know you hate sleeping alone. I am in agony over you, constantly. So what do I have to do?” His voice was as pleading as his eyes this time. All of him begging for you to see him. To love him. To love him the way he loved you. You began to feel your throat and chest tighten as tears pricked your eyes.

“What more do I need to do to show you that you are loved? That I love you?! That I have always loved you? You want someone to look at you like that? I do. I have always been right. here.” He punctuated the last two words with anger and sorrow causing you to blink as they flew from his mouth.

“Sam, I- I never-“ You began to speak, but Sam cut you off.

“You never what? Noticed?” He spat, causing you to recoil slightly and take a step back as you nodded your head.

“You never noticed because you’re too busy watching happy couples and feeling sorry for yourself! Maybe if you looked at me, you would’ve noticed I’ve been looking at you. Waiting for you.” You stood still letting what he said sink in. He was right. You had been so self-absorbed that you didn’t realize Sam had been there all along.

Every bad date, every phone call, all the times you cried to him and he would suggest there was someone out there who loved you, that your time for love was maybe around the corner. While you had been waiting for love, he had been waiting for you. Waiting for you to notice him. To love him.

Tears uncontrollably rolled down your cheeks as you stood there in silence, staring at one another while lightning illuminated the room more frequently, the storm approaching faster. Sam instantly softened at the sight of tears littering your face, beginning to smear your makeup.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Please don’t cry, Angel.” He sighed, raising his hands up to your cheeks to pat away the tears as they continued to fall, not wanting to ruin your makeup any further.

“No, Sam, you’re right. I’ve only been thinking of myself. All I ever do is talk about my feelings and what’s wrong with me and my love life. Not only have I been a terrible friend, but I’ve also been missing what's right in front of me.” You brought your hand to lay over his, leaning your face into his touch and closing your eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I truly don’t deserve you in any way.”

“Hey, don’t do that. Look at me, Angel.” He lifted his hand from your face to skirt his fingers down your cheek to the underside of your jaw and finally stopped under your chin, angling your face up to his. His other hand dropped to your hip, resting lightly. Your eyes fluttered open instantly being met with his milk chocolate irises, a smile growing on his face.

“Hi.” He breathed out as his hand under your chin fell to rest on your other hip, holding you close to him.

“Hey.” It came out as a broken whisper, barely audible, even to your own ears.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Okay?” His breath fanned across your face while he spoke, and you nodded your head giving him permission. His right hand snaked up from your waist to cradle the back of your neck as he leaned in closer, sending chills across your body. His lips were soft and gentle against your own, and you found yourself melting into him. The kiss only lasted a few moments before he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and sighing, eyes still shut. You felt as though you were frozen in time, stuck like this for an eternity, overtaken by his presence. His intoxicating, woodsy smell mixed with a hint of cologne, the way his hands felt on you, how beautiful he was with his eyes closed, and content.

“Sam?”

His eyes met yours at the mention of his name being whispered into the air.

“Yeah?” He whispered back, eyes flicking between yours trying to gauge your reaction. Your hand found purchase on his cheek, cupping the left side of his face.

“Kiss me again?”

“Anything for you, Angel.” A smile stretched across his face before he leaned in once again to kiss you. His lips met yours, gliding against your own with a feeling of something deeper behind this kiss than the first. It was more passionate, hungry even. His tongue swept across your bottom lip eliciting a sigh from you which Sam swallowed down as he took the opportunity to let his tongue roam the inside of your mouth, trailing along the roof. Your brain finally catching up, your tongue met his. Sam’s fingers dug into your waist at the feeling of your tongues dancing against one another, and pulled you impossibly closer.

He pulled away again, this time bringing his lips to your ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to kiss you. What do you say we get out of here?” His breathing was labored and heavy against your skin sending tingles throughout your body.

“I’d like that very much.” You beamed, Sam taking your hand in his and leading you out into the stormy night where rain was pouring from the heavens, effectively soaking you both from head to toe. Without a care for the rain falling from the sky, Sam stopped abruptly using his grasp on your hand to pull you into him, kissing you for a third time that night, his lips spreading into a smile mid-kiss.

“Sam, what’re you doing? We’re going to get soaked out here.” You smiled into the kiss as well, a giggle bubbling past your lips.

“Just wanted to kiss you in the rain is all.” He pushed the strands of damp hair out of your face with both of his large hands, peppering it with kisses as he did so causing you to erupt into a fit of laughter.

“Think we could do this in your car? I kinda have to return this dress.” You laughed as you felt a shiver begin at the top of your skull and travel down your spine, making your whole body shake. Sam shrugged his blazer off and draped it around your shoulders, smiling at you sweetly, although it didn’t do much as it was already wet and cold from the weather. He placed a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before intertwining his fingers with your own and dragging you off towards his car.

“Anything for you, Angel.”

——————————

add yourself to my taglist!

#sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fluff #gvf #sam gvf #sam kiskza #to be loved by you

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didgeriduwu · 1 month

Text

Chapters: 5/?

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2) Characters: Scout (Team Fortress 2), Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Medic (Team Fortress 2), Spy (Team Fortress 2), Scout’s Mother (Team Fortress 2), Other Character Tags to Be Added

Additional Tags: Trans Scout (Team Fortress 2), Trans Male Scout (Team Fortress 2), Trans Male Character, Tokophobia Warning, Pregnancy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg, (i guess it depends on your definition), Emotionally Repressed Sniper (Team Fortress 2), oh god just communicate you fucks, Established Relationship, Situationship?, Spy is Scout’s Parent (Team Fortress 2), no beta I have no friends, Medic is a cunt i love him, Scout’s Ma is the best, Discussion of Abortion, Unplanned Pregnancy, almost forgot that one

Summary: Sniper and Scout’s relationship is in limbo, and neither seems to know if or how to fix it. Unexpected news finally forces a change, but whether it’ll be for better or for worse is anyone’s guess.

TW for this one: quick mention of the words "fat" and "wh*re" used derogatorily in a quick section of self-loathing/intrusive thoughts.

Jeremy woke with one singular conviction: Mick was wrong. He was lying, or he was mistaken, or there was some strange reason why Mick would say those words to Jeremy. It couldn’t be because they were true. That was ridiculous.

Mick had to love him. They’d been through too much together. He knew Mick too well. Jeremy couldn’t be wrong. Mick loved him. He did.

So when he looked outside to see empty desert where Mick’s van had been, he didn’t panic. Nor did he, when none of his teammates seemed to know where the marksman had gone. Even when he learned that Mick had taken a week of leave without telling him, Jeremy had successfully managed to stay not-panicking.

Jeremy could wait a week. He just had to wait seven days, and then Mick would be back to apologise. Maybe he’d come back with a ring or something. Maybe he was at Jeremy’s Ma’s house right now asking for her blessing.

Yeah, that sounded right. Mick was all polite and old-fashioned and stuff. That was totally something he would do. Jeremy didn’t want to ruin the surprise. He could be patient. He would be patient.

And Jeremy tried.

To their credit, his teammates did their best to help. It seemed they had all decided the optimal strategy was to distract Jeremy from his thoughts, and so they’d each found ways to keep him occupied outside of battle. Jeremy had lost count of the number of tea parties Pyro had thrown for him, or jobs Engie had really needed his help with that required suspiciously little effort but suspiciously long periods of time. He’d played round after round of cards with Demo and Solly and spent enough time helping with Medic’s doves that he could identify them all by name. Heavy had even taught him his coveted sandwich recipe, something that Jeremy had been asking about for years. The secret, it turned out, was that the sandwich contained no ham at all; instead, the meat was something Heavy called “Doctor’s Sausage”, specially imported from Russia.

That was the only thing that had managed to make Jeremy laugh all week.

Days seven and eight came and went, however, with no sign of Mick. Jeremy decided that he was just running late. Maybe his flight was delayed, or his van broke down. Those kinds of things happened every day. Mick would be back tomorrow; Jeremy was sure of it.

Day nine was agony. There was no battle scheduled, and the long hours wore on Jeremy’s nerves. By nine o’clock his brain was full to bursting, riddled with thoughts too sharp and quick to comprehend. It was a mercy, perhaps, that the hurricane in his head kept them from sinking in, but it was exhausting. And it was loud. So loud it hurt.

Jeremy sought out the one person who might be noisy enough to drown it out.

Soldier wasn’t being particularly loud when he found him, much to Jeremy’s dismay. The man was settled on the couch in the rec room, carefully stitching a white star the size of a baseball onto a mass of blue fabric and humming that jaunty little song they play at graduations. Solly quickly put him to work cutting stars out of white canvas and – much to Jeremy’s relief – launched into a very long and very loud lecture about some military guy from ancient Greece who had the bright idea to actually run at the enemy.

Jeremy definitely made more than fifty stars, but Solly never told him to stop. The two were silent for some time, focused as they were on their respective tasks. It was strangely calming, folding the little circles of fabric just right so he could make a star shape with only one cut.

After a while though, Jeremy’s thoughts wandered back to Mick. The quiet reminded him of lazy afternoons spent together in the camper, no sound between them but the quiet click clack of Mick’s knitting needles and the scraping of Jeremy’s pencils on paper. He’d look over from time to time and see Mick staring off into nothing, brows drawn together like storm clouds. Jeremy had long wondered what Mick was thinking about when he zoned out like that, but he was always too chicken to ask.

He tried not to think about how he might never get to.

“Where are ya, Mick?” Jeremy sighed to himself.

“YOU SHOULD ASK SPY.”

“Wha-?” Jeremy dropped the scissors; He had almost forgotten Solly was there. “Why?”

“HE’S A SPY, THAT MAGGOT KNOWS EVERYTHING!” Soldier broke his thread with his teeth before continuing. “ALSO, I SAW HIM TALKING TO SNIPER BEFORE HE LEFT.”

“What the fuck, Solly? Why are ya only now bringin’ this up? Wait-” Jeremy shot to his feet. “Before? Like right frickin’ before?”

“AFFIRMATIVE. AT APPROXIMATELY 0600 HOURS I SAW SNIPER TALKING WITH SPY ON THE PORCH BEHIND THE BASE. AFTERWARDS, HE ENTERED HIS VEHICLE AND DROVE AWAY. UNAUTHORISED. IT WAS A DISGRACE! HE IS A DESERTER AND IF HE RETURNS, HE WILL BE SHOT! NO! A BULLET IS TOO GOOD FOR-”

Jeremy didn’t stay to hear the rest of Soldier’s rant.

“Spy!” Jeremy beat against the door with the side of his fist. “Open up! I know you’re in there!”

“Go away, Jérémy.”

“No! Not until ya tell me what ya said to Mick! I know ya spoke to him last week. What the fuck did ya say?”

A moment passed and Jeremy swung his fist forward again. It connected with nothing.

Spy regarded him from the doorway with one eyebrow raised. He was dressed impeccably as always, but Jeremy thought he gave off an impression of dishevelment somehow. Maybe it was in the skin around his eyes more than in the drape of his suit. Maybe he was just getting old.

“Mon fils,” Spy said, as he often did. Jeremy had long ago decided it was an insult.

The runner shoved his way into Spy’s smoking room. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d been there, but it had certainly made an impression. Jeremy hated every square inch of it, gaudy and haunted-house-ish as it was. He hadn’t grown up poor exactly, but there were enough lean months littered throughout his childhood that this kind of brash display of wealth always pissed him off. That spark of anger only stoked the bonfire in his chest. Pyro would be so proud. “Did ya tell ‘im to leave? God, did you frickin’ pay him or somethin’?” Jeremy snatched the lapels of that precious ten-thousand-dollar suit. “Did ya hurt him? I swear to God I will fuckin’ end ya if you did.”

Jeremy was sick of surprises. It felt like it’d been one earth-shattering revelation after another lately, and he was frickin’ over it. So of course, Spy had one more for him. It wasn’t even anything he said or did that knocked Jeremy off kilter: It was the pity in his eyes.

“He is unharmed.” The Frenchman spoke in a monotone, words slow and controlled. “But I owe you an apology nonetheless.” Spy took four precise steps toward his chair and sat in it. One gloved hand twitched toward the side table where his cigarettes lay, but he did not reach for them.

Jeremy did not move, but his eyes tracked Spy’s path across the room. All that fire had turned to brittle glass.

“I did speak to your copain,” Spy practically hissed that last word, but the spite seemed to leave him as quickly as it had arrived. “I had overheard part of your argument and thought to intervene. I did not realise you hadn’t told him about your… situation, and for that I am truly sorry.”

Bile rose in Jeremy’s throat. “Ya told him? Ya knew somehow and you fuckin’… How did ya know? Oh god you told him. He knows. He knows and he left.” He shook his head wildly, as if to loosen the tangle of thoughts there. Jeremy’s gaze caught again on the Frenchman, held upright and still in his velvet armchair. “He’s not coming back, is he?”

Spy just looked at him with those pitying eyes.

‘I’m gonna be sick, I-” Whatever Jeremy was about to say was lost in a tide of stench and vomit. He dropped to his knees heaving bile and tears and wheezing gasps into Spy’s fancy silk rug. Rage and shame and despair played tag in the cockles of his heart.

Eventually the flood petered out and Jeremy became aware of a hand rubbing circles into his back. Another began to tug him gently upright by the shoulder. It was unbearable; Jeremy swiped at it blindly. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!”

He lurched haphazardly toward the door and wrenched it open, only to find the hall beyond crowded with six concerned mercenaries. Jeremy steadfastly avoided their eyes, even as he felt the weight of their gaze on him. Mercifully, no-one spoke.

Jeremy staggered forward, and the crowd parted. Hands reached out as if to touch him but stayed suspended in mid-air. He heard an intake of breath from someone, as if they were preparing to say something, and Jeremy felt every muscle in his body pull taut. His brain filled in the empty space.

Left all alone again. Poor unlovable little Jeremy. He can’t even get anyone to stand him, let alone love him.

He took three steps backwards, head shaking again from side to side.

Look at that pathetic little whore, all knocked up and getting fatter by the day. Won’t be able to run for much longer, and then what’ll he be good for? Nothing!

Jeremy was weeping again, great gasping sobs that shook his entire body.

He was really starting to think he could be a parent too. What kid would want him as a father? It’d beg for him to leave.

His teammates’ gaze felt like molten lead. Jeremy was embarrassed to be seen like this, fresh from the mess he’d made on Spy’s floor.

He was embarrassed to be so exposed, to have so clearly displayed the weakness he’d been hiding away for so long.

Hell, he was embarrassed to be seen at all.

So Jeremy did the one thing he did best: he ran.

And his feet beat a steady rhythm to the Respawn Machine.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #scout tf2 #sniper tf2 #sniperscout #speeding bulle #t spy tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #my fanfiction #tw pregnancy #cw pregnancy #tw tokophobia #tokophobia warning #medic tf2 #trans scout #trans!scout #my work

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ladyiristheenchantress · 8 months

Text

What Is Celestial Work?

Hello friends! I wanted to give a special spotlight to a practice that was introduced to me about 5 years ago! I know plenty of Celestial Practioners but no posts online about it other than in Discord spaces and some aminos. As a preface: I am not talking about celestial deities which are gods that rule over celestial energy, I am talking about an entirely separate practice/type of divine energy work What Is Celestial Work? Celestial work is when you work directly with planetary energies and celestial bodies themselves rather than a deity counterpart. So in our case, you can work with or worship the celestial body of Saturn, each planet will have its own energies, personalities, and preferred way of communication! With that said, how divination, altars, and worship works is actually very different compared to traditional deity work because of the nature of the planets themselves. Celestial work is also technically a form of primordial work because it has to do with the formation of our solar system and even how our neolithic ancestors looked to the stars and planets for guidance (even if that guidance was for hunt purposes) How is this different than regular deity work? With a lot of aspects of deity work you have so many methods of communication, resources for altars and worship, and set values and beliefs from a previously or currently organized religion but with celestial work there are only a few known constants 1. Most planets that are farther away speak slowly and take a long time to communicate because of distance. Planets are not omnipresent but they are semi-omnipotent because they are constantly watching over earth just at a different timescale. There are some optimal times to communicate when a planet is in line with earth, and often times messages come days after reaching out in the form of dreams or sudden waves of feelings.

2. Physical altars will range, and most offerings need to reflect a few things! Because planets don’t have their own set of everything you have to use a few points of reference; You can use astrology, color magic, their own personality as they interact with you, Roman counterparts (aka why they are named that way), science, and astrology! There isn't going to be set guides (yet, I would love to help create some) so you may have to get creative

3. Planets are semi-capable to reach out to work! Planets can “reach out” however it corresponds more with astrology and how they effect our lives, charts, etc, reaching out for work doesn’t really happen in a traditional sense: instead we are constantly connected to all the planets so how we perceive them and how they effect us will depend on our unique relationship to them. Instead they allow a unique dynamic that follows how celestial work was originally done, however some nuance applies! This is because some modern-day UPG can cause different perspectives and how people perceive celestial work, so note not everyone’s experience is the same this just seems to be the most common interpretation. The aspect of “reaching out” is different! Some people argue that planets can reach out 100%, some people argue that they can’t at all, this is the middle path and really depends on how you perceive energy and your own experiences! In my opinion, it may be easier to reach out yourself because it’s hard for a planet to individually pick anyone out of 8 billion humans and almost 20 billion organisms, it just is my perspective and yours can differ!

How can I get started? So you find celestial work awesome! you want to mingle with the rings of Saturn and clown around with the moons of Jupiter :) Lets get started then

Pick an energy that calls to you, what do you feel you need to learn? note that the further out you go the longer it might take to communicate and connect to said planet.

Pick a method of divination, dreams, energy and intuition, scrying, and sign discernment tend to be the best route for getting started because often times tarot or cartomancy have trouble connecting to said energy. You could use decks that were created with those energies in mind to help connect better!

Learn about safety and vetting, communication can be complex especially if you are waiting a few days for a response, have basic wards of protection up and overall keep yourself safe!

Set up an altar space, this can look however you want it to! It can be physical, digital, etc! You dont need an altar but I know a lot of people enjoy having a set space to collect memories or honor the planets

Alrighty yall! I hope this was helpful! if you do get any questions feel free to drop them below in the comments or shoot me an ama :3

Resources to start https://www.astrolada.com/articles/astrology-techniques/planetary-influences-and-symbols.html https://rsarchive.org/Lectures/SpInPl_index.html https://www.entitymag.com/how-the-planets-influence-you/

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callsignfate · 1 year

Text

Laswell x Chaotic Wife Pt. 3

(Ps. the shelf thing actually happened to me and my poor mother watched me walking out with the shelf and me holding my head. It did bleed a little and I only fell down for a second. Anyways enjoy!)

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

*Laswell busy talking to Price a few feet away*

Soap: Why is there a bump and a small scratch on your head?

R/N Whisper yelling: SHUT THE FUCK UP

Soap: What-

R/N *whispering*: I was trying to put up a shelf, and when I thought I had it all put up and put stuff on it, it fell and hit me on the head.

Soap: Jesus- are you alright?

R/N: I'm fine. I only passed out for a minute, but Kate said one more inconvenience caused by my stupidity will make her explode from stress.

Soap: ...

R/N: So be quiet.

*Kate who was behind her wife the whole time*

Laswell: You said the holes in the walls were from bugs!

R/N: ... I lied?

Laswell: John- you take her for a bit- I have a migraine.

Price: ...fuck.

R/N: Dammit..

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

R/N: I love you.

Kate: I love you too.

R/N: You said that with a very heavy sigh..

Kate: it's just that I never thought I'd have field medic skills to be married.

R/N: It's not that bad..

Kate: This is the third time you've almost needed stitches from A TIN CAN LID!

R/N: ... who knew they could be so sharp

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

*R/N standing next to Price while Kate yells at Soap and Gaz for doing something stupid*

R/N: That's why I married her.

Price: ...what?

R/N: Look how pretty she is even when she's yelling.

Price: ...it's a good thing you love that look that much, she yells at you with the same face.

R/N: I know she's perfect.

Price: ...you wanna talk about your relationship with your mother?

R/N: We don't have time for all of that.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

R/N: So...

Kate: They'll be here soon to rescue us..

R/N: I can't believe we got kidnapped.

Kate: With you, anything is possible.

R/N: At least we get quality time together, it's kinda nice.

Kate: ... I hate and love your optimism.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Kidnapper on the phone: We have your wife.

Kate: Oh Jesus Christ- Again?

Kidnapper: agai- Again?

Kate: *Sigh* Give me proof of life.

Kidnapper: Grab he- what do you mean we don't hav- where could she have-

Kate: YOU LOST HER?

Kidnapper: No-no we have her

Kate: Jesus fuck where could she be now?!

R/N: So... this is interesting

Price: HOW IN GODS FUCKING NAME DID YOU GET HERE?! WE'RE NOT EVEN IN OR NEAR AMERICA!

R/N: Funny story...

Price *on the phone with Laswell*: Can you come get her?

Kate: SHES WITH YOU? HOW?

Price: AS IF ID FUCKIN' KNOW KATE!

Kate obviously annoyed: I'm on my way.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Kate driving: Fuck- construction work.

R/N: Road work ahead? Yea I sure hope it does.

Soap: Nice.

Kate: What-?

Price: I think they share a brain cell.

Ghost: You think they share it or one has it for one day and then one has it for the other?

Kate and Price at the same time: The second one.

Gaz: I watched them both stick their head out of the window while it was raining and at the same time they both got rain in their eyes.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

R/N: Honestly, I'm glad we got this time together. We're like a family.

Price: The bomb squad will be here soon.

Gaz: At least it has a few hours on it..

Kate: YOU JUST LET THEM PUT IT ON YOU?!

R/N: In hindsight it looked like a weird vest.

Ghost: You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me.

R/N: ...

Soap: What if I just cut a wire?

R/N: I trust yo-

Kate, Price, Ghost, and Gaz all yelling at the same time: NO!

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

#kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #laswell #kate laswell x fem!reader #cod laswell #laswell cod #call of duty laswell #laswell mw2

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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 years

Note

i was wondering what happened to boss design of elden ring?

and on the other note, would you like in hades 2, depiction of aphrodite as patron of cosmic/maternal love? with more body fat etc?

The semiotics of body type in character design is always such a thorny thing, because it's this constant push and pull between calling on existing meanings and associations in culture, vs pushing boundaries and trying to redefine those meanings and associations.

Aphrodite isn't really associated with maternal love I believe (classics nerds can correct me in the replies), more like erotic and romantic love, pleasure and passion. I think her design is well served by simply Being Hot™ in whatever way most readily communicates that "this character is meant to be hot" visually to the audience. It is annoying and shitty that "hot" almost always means "skinny" to a general audience, but that's those troublesome semiotics.

I cite Dionysus as a character who's a natural fit for a soft body, too. To me, it sort of doesn't comport that he of all gods has a gym jacked physique - specifically because of the amount of self-denial and struggle it takes to achieve that kind of physique. Again, not to say that Dionysus HAS to be fat because fat = hedonism (it does not), but I think it is a flaw in his visual storytelling to make him Gym Ripped because my man in a party boy who likes his drink and his food and his f... rolicking, and does not like getting up with a hangover at 6am to run 5K and do a crossfit regimen. That's more Ares' or Hermes' kind of style. Dionysus, at least in Hades, is more about softness and self-indulgence and letting loose and being cool about things, letting stuff slide and just having a good time.

Zeus or Poseidon, with their affable patriarch / unreliable uncle characters, also would make good fits for dad bods. Specifically, the bodies of dudes who used to be extremely gym fit, but who have gotten comfortable and gone a bit softer around the edges now that they no longer have to show off and prove themselves all the time. Zeus perhaps along the lines of a powerlifter, Poseidon more like a former competitive swimmer.

For Hades himself, on the other hand, I think it DOES make sense to keep him muscled up, low in body fat and jacked, because the man, as a character, is such a self-denying, self-punishing workaholic. He fills the emotional void in his heart with Fulfilment Of The Duty, which includes being the final gatekeeper of the underworld who must be ready to defend it. Like, yeah, he WOULD have a rigid, inflexible diet and exercise routine optimized to keep him in peak shape to do battle if the duty should call him to it, because he does not think he deserves to take a rest, he does not think he deserves softness or pleasure or joy. That's part of the resentment he keeps taking out on Zagreus as the game opens.

Anyway, the semiotics of body type in character design is inherently problematic from literally every angle, there is no perfect or morally pure way to do it, we live in a complex web of conflicting meanings and cultural assumptions and we all just have to do our best with it.

EDIT: Oh, and Elden Ring will be back Soon™

#tb answers #tb essay #hades #hades supergiant #hades aphrodite #hades zeus #hades poseidon #hades dionysus #hades hades

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emeraldcitynerdfighter · 1 month

Text

"I am drowning, there is no sign of land...you are coming down with me..."

"So…what happens next?"

It was a relief, oddly, that Carson had wondered aloud what nagged Greta all evening. In some ways, it made it easier to answer.

"My mom has a job lined up for me," Greta said, trying to keep her voice even. "Nicest thing's she's ever done. She and a friend of hers run this skin care company. They've been doing the farmer's market and craft fair circuit for years, but they finally want a storefront of their own just outside of Chicago."

Carson's eyebrows raised. "You'll still be around here?" Greta tried not to hear the optimism laced in Carson's voice.

Greta gave a noncommittal shrug. "My mom'll probably have me working obscene hours when we're not taking care of my dad. I don't think I'll have time for…much else."

"But how busy can a small town boutique be?" Carson asked flippantly. "I'm sure you'll have lots of time to daydream and, hey, maybe you can finish your degree online or something, so you can study in your downtime and --"

…God, she loved Carson's brain. Her lofty dreams and hopes for Greta…

"…and, when you're off taking over the world of cancer research and saving lives…" Carson's words evaporated. She blinked, and Greta caught the shine in her eyes, picking up more of the stars than before. Carson leaned forward, elbows on her knees. She flexed her toes in her sneakers. "Maybe once in a while…you'll think about me."

What remained of Greta's heart shattered.

Yeah, maybe.

They walked wordlessly the remainder of the way back to campus. Carson followed Greta up to her floor. They paused at the landing, where they both had a decision to make. Greta could turn right and trudge down the darkened hallway, alone. Or pull Carson along with her. Or continue up the stairs to Carson's room.

Something flickered across Carson's face as they stared at one another, hugged by the darkness in the quiet hours-dimmed lights of the hallway. She saw a whisper of possibility. Almost like she was ruminating over the same decisions. Like she wanted to do something…

And Greta would've let her.

If her life was a movie, they would've kissed. Everything solved in an impulsive expression of love and hope and reckless optimism.

Ultimately, Carson decided for her. For them.

She took half a step back, her face shrouded in the shadows of the night and hope and disappointment.

"Good night, Greta."

Greta's stomach dropped, and with it fell away the nagging ache of hope that accompanied her the whole night. She clenched her fist, aching for a companion. She gave her a weak smile before retreating back to her room.

"Good night, Car."

New chapter is finally up! Let me know what you think!

#a league of their own #aloto #gretson #aloto fic #gretson fic #my writing #Carson Shaw #Greta Gill

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darkhangels · 2 years

Text

4. fragile dreams

enjoy the silence masterlist

morpheus x f!reader

warnings: swearing

words: 3834

Trying to process everything that had happened between, rogue nightmares, talking ravens and being held by the God of Dreams you jammed your keys in the door. When you walked into your apartment you heard chatting voices and squinted under your harsh lights, not expecting them to be on. Chucking your shoes off you noticed two pairs of shoes at the door. Lorna's and Veronica’s.

You stepped into the kitchen and were greeted by the couple sitting at the table. “Hey!” Lorna beamed at you, Veronica waving at you.

Veronica was an almost complete opposite to Lorna appearance wise. Veronica had rich dark skin and thick long onyx hair that shines under the light. She had a toothy smile and a warm exterior. From the moment you met her you had liked her, loving the way she brought optimism wherever she was, especially to your best friend who had needed her.

“Hey guys” You welcomed them.

Lorna cocked her head to the side. “You’re early today, did the bus driver speed home or something?”

Your glance turned to the window and the rich darkness of the night, remembering the man whose presence you had been in only seconds ago. Your forearms still buzzed from his touch and you hated how much you ached for more, you were just touch starved is all. “Bus was late,” you muttered mindlessly.

Lorna's face scrunched in confusion. “Huh?”

You snapped out of your daze and turned back to your friends. “I mean, I left work early, got a different bus”

“Oh” Lorna nodded, still watching you with a slightly concerned look on her face.

You grabbed a glass of water and perched on the counter before practically sputtering out your water in remembrance. “Oh my god! I totally forgot to tell you guys my mums getting married” You laughed.

The pair's eyes widened. “What?!” Lorna screeched.

Veronica lurched forward in her chair, almost falling to the floor. “You’re kidding?

You shook your head between giggles. “Nope her and Mark seriously, some point in December, big family wedding” You debriefed the two.

Veronica smacked her forehead with her hand, flying back in her chair. “No way? A family wedding, yeesh, good luck with that”

Lorna nodded in agreement with her girlfriend “Yeah seriously, good luck”

Sighing, you set your glass down and crossed your arms “I can’t even remember the last time I went to a wedding” Your head tilted ever so slightly “Well over five years now”

“Yeah it was, you remember Phoebe from school?” Lorna chimed in “She got knocked up by this like thirty year old pilot and her parents are like, super religious so they had to have a white wedding”

You gasped “Oh my god yeah!, The wedding was super tense” You smiled fondly at the memory of you and Lorna sat at the back of the ceremony silently sniggering.

Veronica's jaw dropped. “No shit, that really happened?”

Lorna turned to her girlfriend “No seriously, it did”

“I wonder if they’re still together” You pondered.

“They have like five children now” Lorna laughed.

“Five?!” You and Veronica screeched at the same time.

You remembered what Phoebe was like at school. She was a self proclaimed slut, genuinely. And that's no hate to the girl, as long as it's happy, safe and consensual, you didn’t give a shit. And yet despite everyone in the school knowing of her reputation, her parents thought she was the perfect virgin child. And now she has five kids.

And it dawned on you yet again. You weren't a kid anymore. You saw it everyday on Instagram, Facebook or whatever. Old school mates having children, getting married, getting top jobs. It wasn’t the days where you would worry about who was getting with who, or skipping double science in the bathrooms. People were having careers and families, all that adult shit.

You had graduated a long time ago now and what did you have to show for yourself? You worked at a coffee shop, you were single, simply floating through life. Nothing to drive for, nothing to strive for. You just remained stuck, never moving forward.

I mean seriously, what were you going to do? Work at the coffee shop till the end of your days? And you gulped harshly, gripping onto the surface of the counter, your palms dug into the harsh wood.

“You okay?” Lorna softly asked.

You looked up to your friend and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, just makes you think, y'know?”

Lorna gave you a sympathetic smile. Or was it a pitying smile? You struggled to tell the difference nowadays. You pushed the existential mess down and decided to worry about it later.

“So, you’re coming to the Halloween party on Saturday right?” Veronica asked, swiftly changing the conversation.

You scoffed and threw your head back. “Hell no”

“What? Why not?” Lorna whined.

And you didn’t have a solid excuse. “Well because-” You started and desperately racked your brain trying to think of an answer. “I don’t have a costume”

Veronica wagged her finger at you. “Bullshit, you bought that sexy vampire outfit last year but you didn't wear it and now it's hanging in the back of your closet”

Shit.

“Well uh-” You stuttered. “I’m not gonna know anyone there”

“You’ll know us” Lorna shrugged. “Resistance is futile”

“Ok cool so now that’s sorted we’ll pick you up around 8”

You unwillingly smiled as you looked at your friends' hopeful faces. “Okay”

The two girls screeched as they embraced you in a hug.

You practically skipped into bed, way too excited (admittedly nervous, what if your nightmares came back?). Thankfully sleep came easy as you practically crumbled into the soft embrace of your bed.

-------------------------

When you open your eyes. You were in a vast library, filled with books, books and more books. You gaped in awe. It was an English teacher's wet dream.

A throat clearing sound drew your attention, you followed the noise to the table in front of you, on top sat Matthew. “Hey kid, you made it!”

You couldn't help the grin that grew on your face. “Good to see you again Matthew”

He cawed in response and you swung in the spot you were standing on. You awaited to be told what to do but with no avail you cleared your throat. “So, what is the plan exactly?”

“Research, lots of it” A voice called.

It was the woman from before with the pointed ears, holding a stack of books in her arms before gracefully loading them onto the table. “This library is incredible” You gasped at the woman.

A tight but warm smile grew on her face. “I’m honoured you think so, it holds every book ever to be written”

Your eyes practically bulged out of your skull. “Ever?” You whispered.

“Ever” She responded smugly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce myself before. I’m Lucienne the royal librarian”

You greeted her and told her your name, you liked this woman.

“She’s also practically like Morpheus’ right hand man though Dream is too proud to admit it and Lucienne is too kind to say it”

Lucienne's smile evaporated as she glared at the raven. “Thank you for your input Matthew”

Lucienne pulled a chair out from under the table and you copied her actions, settling down into the furnished pine seat. You hastily grabbed one of the thick books the librarian had brought with her and began your quest to find any kind of answer.

You looked at the thick stack and the one in front of you and suddenly felt so small. “I mean, where do I start?” You muttered, feeling so completely out of your depth.

Lucienne looked at you over the top of her glasses. “First skim and scan, anything to do with nightmares or dreams not being influenced by Lord Morpheus, we go from there”

You let out a sigh of relief, taking in the librarian's advice and your eyes fell to the yellowed pages in front of you.

It felt like an hour had passed when you finally finished that book only to find Lucienne had finished three of them in the time you had read one. With a huff you sat back in your chair and crossed your arms.

“So” Matthew coughed. “Is his excellency joining us?”

Lucienne didn't look up from the book she was reading at an unnatural pace. “He said he would but you know he likes to keeps his own timings”

“I’ll say” A gravelly harsh voice called. Your head swivelled to the direction of the noise. It was a pumpkin. A walking, and apparently talking pumpkin, his face was carved with a sly design and he wore blue overalls.

“Mervyn, meet our guest” Lucienne simply stated, still not looking up from her book.

Mervyn surveyed you with slanted eyes, well, holes? “Ah, you must be our rogue dreamer”

You quickly tried to cover your shock with nervous smile. “The one and only” You chuckled.

“We hope” Matthew cawed.

Mervyn reached for his pocket and pulled a cigarette and lighter out. “I’ll tell ya something, I’ve got a couple of words about our excellency, He is a cruel leader, He has me cleaning up all this rubbish day after day as if he couldn't just flick his wrist and whoosh! It's all fixed”

You turned to Matthew, your forehead creased in confusion. “Mervyns basically the groundskeeper of the dreaming” He explained.

“Ah” you nodded in understanding. “So, can he really do that, just flick his wrist and whoosh” You said mimicking Mervyns earlier words and miming the actions.

Mervyn took a long drag of his cigarette. “Oh yeah he can, he creates and can uncreate anything in the dreaming. And despite all that he still has me picking up his crap!” He exclaimed.

“That's hardly fair” You frowned.

“I know, glad some think so” He said, exaggerating the way he said some and directing it at Lucienne.

The librarian turned to Mervyn and sighed. “We all have our jobs in the dreaming Merv, whether we like it or not”

Grumbling and putting his cigarette out Merv turned the way he came in and exited the library. You bit back a laugh. Who knew a pumpkin could be so sour? You looked back at your reading, skimming and scanning as Lucienne instructed, trying to find anything useful.

Yet your brain couldn't help but focus on some of the things Mervyn had said. Dream really controlled everything in the dreaming. He was an all powerful being and you knew that already but still, you found yourself intimidated and wondered what the hell you were doing? Why had you decided to help? You could be warm and cosy in your bed right now…well technically you still were. But this had to have been a better solution to the nightmares right?

“Don’t worry about what Merv said” Your head snapped up to Matthew “Dream despite his exterior does want to help you, he’s just extremely protective over his realm”

Lucienne looked at the bird before looking at you and nodding in agreement.

Eyes softening you gave both of them a smile and went back to your reading. Before another thought popped into your head. “I mean how should I address him though because, Well I mean he’s not technically my lord is he? Though I suppose when I dream he is, So do I call him dream, Lord Morpheus? My king-?” You spiralled anxiously.

Matthews and Lucienne's' gaze switched to something behind you and you mentally cursed yourself, praying that it was just Mervyn coming back, though you knew it wasn’t.

“Any would suffice” The soft deep voice declared from now beside you as he strolled to the table from which you sat on.

He looked at you expectantly with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes and you paled, your mouth drying by the second. “Good to know” You squeaked, looking up at him though not quite meeting his eyes in your chair, wishing to have dissolved into the floor as your cheeks flushed an obnoxious scarlet.

Dream turned to his librarian, ripping his eyes away from you “Anything, Lucienne?”

Lucienne shook her head and bit on her lip deep in thought “No, my lord, whatever this is it's extremely rare”

A short agitated breath left Dream's lips and he turned back to face you. “What about you?”

It took you a moment to register he was talking to you, before you shook your head and looked down avoiding his gaze. “I thought you said you would help?” He coldly asked.

You drew back from his harsh tone in fear, but didn’t back down. “And I’m trying my hardest,” You replied.

Dream drew a breath in and simply nodded. You exhaled, thankful, he didn’t argue any further. But the air was thick and tense and though you understood that it wasn’t your fault, you couldn't help but feel guilty. They were all just scared. Scared of losing their homes, their friends and their lives. Because of your nightmares.

“Perhaps she could use a quick five minute break” Matthew croaked from beside you.

Dream looked down at you and watched your face, his cold gaze softening by only an inch. “Very well, the dreaming is open to you”

You climbed out of your seat. “Thank you, Dream” Making a point of using his name, something unreadable washed over his face before he nodded curtly, setting his face back to the brooding glare it was seemingly stuck in.

You sent Matthew a grateful smile and he cawed in response, before you pushed against the great big library doors and into the rest of the dreaming.

No mortal mind could ever think or make up the beauty that was the realm of the dreaming. Simply being there had a lull so comforting and so calming that the sights themselves could well and truly only ever be seen in dreams.

You found yourself sitting by a flowing sapphire river. Reflections danced under the sun in the gleaming waves of the water. Entranced by the water you finally had a slow and silent moment to think through the events of the last couple of days. You had discovered talking ravens, pointy-eared librarians, walking-talking pumpkin heads, your nightmares possibly causing grave danger to the realm of dreaming and goth lords.

Oh how life can change in the span of 48 hours.

The skin on the back of your neck prickled ever so slightly and you realized you were not alone.

“So many places in my realm, that the human brain would not be able to comprehend and you chose to observe the most mortal thing here” The soft voice called.

A long black coat came into your vision and you were surprised when he sat beside you on the grass resting his arms on his knees, looking out at the river before him. You stiffened ever so slightly, as you always did when beside him, the proximity was suffocating in the best possible way but it was also fearsome and overwhelming, still you looked out onto the water. “I’m sorry to have caused any kind of danger in the dreaming”

Turning your gaze to the man beside you, you chewed the inside of your cheek. “It was never my intentions”

Dream turned to you and nodded before croaking. “I believe you”

As you peered into one and the others eyes a silent exchange was made and you found yourself unwilling and unwanting to tear your gaze away from him

You looked back into the water in front of you, despite it all a comfortable silence engulfed the two of you until you spoke up again “I’ve always liked being near water, makes me feel less trapped I guess”

Dream said nothing while watching the water slowly lap calmly. You bit your lip before speaking. “Y’know when I was younger, I lived in the middle of nowhere, pretty much, the only thing there was like one shop and a river” You paused before continuing, Dream still silently listening, staring into the blue hues.

You smiled, reminiscing on your childhood. “And it was great as a kid but when you’re a teenager you become restless, you feel so trapped” You looked down, now your smile becomes ever so slightly melancholy. “And as a teenager I used to sit by the river everyday and just hope or dream,” You smirked looking at the man beside you. He looked back to you with an amused twitch of his lip before you continued “Just dream of anywhere but there, wishing there was more to see and that I would live a fulfilling life, seeing the true wonders of the world”

Dream watched you now listening intently to every word you spoke. “Then you grow up and you have to work and you move away and that burning need doesn't necessarily go away but it does ever so slightly give up” You looked down and frowned whilst pulling at the skin on your fingernails “and then, suddenly you’re sat by a river, wishing and praying you were a kid again, if only for a second just so you could do it all again, differently”

Your lips twitched up and you realized how awfully depressing that sounded, so you put on a fake confident smile. “But whenever I sit by the water I remember there is still hope, I still have some kind of life to lead, it's just finding the courage to live it”

You beamed back to Dream whose eyes were focused solely on yours, you squirmed under his gaze ever so slightly before relaxing and turning back to the water.

“And do you?” Dream uttered.

His body was completely facing you now, intrigued and curious to learn. “Do I what?” You hoarsely asked, your voice only mere seconds away from becoming a whisper.

“Feel trapped?”

You took in the features on his face, your breath halting only for a second before you cleared your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Here? No, in the dreaming I feel the most free I have felt my entire life” You said looking up into the sky, the warmth rays of the sun hitting you.

“And in the waking world?” The deep voice asked, still looking only at you.

You closed your eyes thoughtfully before answering. “Perhaps”

Dream watched your every move finding himself enraptured, before swiftly standing up. “Come” He commanded. “We have work to do”

You stood up and walked beside him back into the dreaming library.

-----------------------------

When you awoke, you didn't gasp or jolt. You just fluttered your eyelashes open, the most calming wake up you had in a month. And yet you were disappointed when you looked around, now mundane compared to the dreaming room. The last thing you remembered was Lord Morpheus telling you, you had woken up despite your protests, you knew you had to and with a wave of his hand here you were.

Despite your long and hard efforts of research, you still had no answers to what was causing your nightmares, so you supposed you’d be spending yet another night in the dreamings library. Not that you minded of course, in fact quite the opposite you found yourself watching the clock waiting to go home and just waiting to fall asleep.

You spent your nights in the dreaming, ploughing through books beside Lucienne and Matthew, Mervyn checking in every now and then. Your most favourite part however was when you and Dream would be alone, and he’d tour you around his realm. Showing off his finest creations as you stared in awe, wondering how you had got so lucky to marvel at the incredible beings.

And that was where you found yourself now, walking through a field of unique flowers, knowing that Dream would come to find you any second.

The man baffled you. His actions could be construed as cold and callous, he could be stubborn and dismissive, acting like he didn’t want you around, only to seek your presence when you left the library. It threw you into a whirlwind of emotions, very, confusing emotions.

A familiar chill was sent down your spin.

“Everytime I think I’ve seen your whole realm, a new domain pops into view” You beamed turning around to the figure. “It appears rather endless” You whispered mainly to yourself.

Dream strode closer. “It is not, I can assure you that, if you walk far enough you could reach the borders of my realm”

Your eyes snapped up to his. “But who would want to leave, leave all this beauty”

And something changed within Lord Morpheus. He realized all at once that you were getting comfortable and attached to the dreaming. Perhaps it was his own fault, carelessly showing you around his realm not expecting you to do what humans did, adapt and attach. His gaze reluctantly harshened.

“You will have to leave”

You turned to him with furrowed eyebrows, shocked by the sudden harsh change in his tone. “What are-”

His voice cut you off. “When I have solved and corrected this ordeal, you will go back to the way you dreamt before '' He awaited in response but you were too gobsmacked to form any kind of word before he continued. “You will not sit in my library and you will not talk to Lucienne and Matthew ever again”

You stood in silence, recoiling away from the harsh words as tears viciously pricked at your eyes.

“So do not get too comfortable with my subjects or my domains”

With that he turned away and strode back to the library.

When he was out of sight a sob escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your hardest to comfort yourself as you angrily wiped at the tears coming out of your eyes.

You knew what he said was true, I mean he had said it before. But you had hoped, foolishly, that he might’ve let you stay. That maybe he had warmed to you, but no. It was all just your mind making assumptions and getting attached.

You were beyond furious at yourself, why had you let him speak to you like that? Why didn’t you fight back? Because you knew he was right. He just didn’t have to be so fucking mean about it.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. So you wiped your face, aggressively getting rid of the tears and let out one long shaky breath, before marching back to the library.

When you had come back Dream was nowhere to be seen, so you simply continued with your research, hoping your mind wouldn’t be too distracted. You put on a fake smile hopefully trying your hardest to convince Matthew and Lucienne that you were okay.

-----------------------

The next night. You didn’t go to the dreaming. Instead you dreamt of A raven, A sacrifice and A death.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #the sandman x reader #sandman x you #morpheus #morpheus x you

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nyxofdemons · 2 years

Text

okay okay okay. im so normal. im so so normal about this

some thoughts on the new episode:

*inhale*

MOXXIES DAD FUCKING SUCKS. I DONT EVEN HATE CASH AS MUCH AS I HATE CRIM. GOOD WORK TEAM IM FUCKING SEETHING ABOUT HIM (in a good writing way)

I LOVE THE GREED RING!!! the music is PHENOMENAL? i am obsessed with the soundtrack when they're first flying in, it's STUNNING

MILLIE AND MOXXIE BOTH DATED CHAZ. I WASNT EXPECTING THIS?? ITS SO FUNNY HELP

blitz being pissed at "THERE'S SOMEONE WHO FUCKED BOTH OF YOU?" GAJSBSV HES SO JEALOUS???

the fucking boat movie quote

listen chaz is funny and all but i fucking hate him for what he did to moxxie. die die die my boy deserved BETTER THAN THAT

I LOVE THE SCENE OF MOXXIE AND BLITZ MEETING!!! oh my god its so cute. blitz's annoying optimism and it cheering moxxie up almost instantly. MOXXIE HAVING A SOFT SPOT FOR KIDS (THE SOFT LITTLE SMILE WHEN BLITZ MENTIONS LOONA??)

"you called him a friendless horsefucker" and blitz changing it to "horseless friendfucker" as if the lack of horses is more notable. blitz's obsession with horses will literally never not be fucking golden

crim smacking moxxie was actually such a fucking incredible scene. like don't get me wrong i'm ready to kill him with my bare hands but the way this scene was DONE. the intensity and tension break was fucking PHENOMENAL. the same thing happened with moxxie's fight with striker. i could talk about this forever but the way the scene is shot and the camera angles and everything make it feel SO intimate and have such a close-up kind of fear to them.

"okay, first off, dad, i'm bisexual" "yeah, gay!" "FOR FUCKS SAKE" RHKAHWKABSVS

SORRY IM SORRY MOXXIES DAD BEING LIKE,,, VAGUELY HOMOPHOBIC YET STILL TRYING TO FORCE MOXXIE TO MARRY CHAZ. ITS SO FUCKING FUNNY GSKABQBD

seeing moxxie shrink and close up on himself hit SO CLOSE TO HOME,,, mox doesn't really censor himself at all with blitz - even though blitz is technically above him, they're still equal enough that moxxie will constantly snap back at him. seeing moxxie be so anxious and falter and stutter and hold his tongue is just..... god it feels so realistic and well done. im going to sob

THE FLASHBACK FUCKING DEVASTATED ME. GOOD FUCKING MORNING. oh my god baby moxxie and his mother and watching as crim ruins everything. im going to be sick

CHAZ'S MUSICAL NUMBER. THE EMOTIONAL PUNCHES AND THEN THE COMEDY ARE SO WELL TIMED GHAKABANSB

CHAZ AND BLITZ HOLY SHIT. I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS??? i mean for starters it was fucking hilarious but like. oh my god. the stolitz implications (will stolas find out?? how will he feel??? does this tie into stolas giving him that crystal??? SOMETHING ABOUT BLITZ BEING SO DISSATISFIED WITH CHAZ GIVES ME STOLITZ FEELS. something something stolas being the best he's ever had and/or him LIKING stolas so much that he's not really enjoying being with anyone else??? HELLO????

MOXXIE STANDING UP TO HIS DAD!!!! GOOD FOR HIM!!! when he hit the table and crim jumped! combined with the calm and cold voice... GOOD SHIT

the priest officiating the wedding is so fucking funny. guy who doesn't get paid enough for this shit

THE MUSIC AGAIN!!! ITS SO GOOD

MILLIE MY WIFE MILLIE WITH A KNIFE MILLIE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

SHES SO COOL

I LOVE MILLIE SO MUCH

she ripped out a dude's spine and strangled someone else with it??? oh 👀👀👉👈

anyway i am having one million thoughts that i can't put into words but in conclusion!! GOOD episode good shit i'm emotionally devastated and will not be recovering for many many days <33

#mine #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss exes and oohs #e: exes and oohs

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prophetandprincess · 11 months

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Baldur's Gate Scene

Not me appearing after months/years of no new content to provide you with a little Baldur's Gate scene. I am here to feed the Wyll fans because the lack of love I see for him is criminal.

“I don’t understand how you can bear to be with me, seeing what I am,” Wyll waved to his horns. “I do not regret what I did, but that does not change the fact that I am indebted to Mizora, that she watches everything that I do. If she sees that…This is not a good idea.”

“Wyll, we have tadpoles in our heads that can transform us into mind flayers at any moment, I don’t think we’re playing by the normal rules of engagement right now. We will figure out what Mizora wants and we will get you out of your debt. She does not scare me.” Tav said taking a small step forward.

“And that’s the problem,” Wyll sighed, though he gave her a sad smile. “You don’t seem scared of her at all, but I have seen what she can do, and I cannot let that happen to you. I will not let it happen to you.”

“Wyll…” Tav had so many emotions in her chest and wasn’t sure what to do with any of them. “I have survived being abducted, a Nautiloid Ship crash, and taking out an entire camp worth of goblins who wanted to sacrifice me to a new god that I know nothing about. Together we have saved the tieflings and the Emerald Grove, and we are on our way to help the rest of the Sword Coast. Together, we can manage Mizora, I am sure of it.”

“I wish I had your confidence and your optimism,” Wyll smiled for a moment, but then it fell. “Still, it would be selfish of me to pull you into danger just because…”

“Wyll, you are not pulling me anywhere, I am here willingly only asking for you to take my hand and let me come with you,” Tav took another step so that they were only a few inches from one another.

“Why?” Wyll asked with such softness and confusion that it almost broke her heart.

“Because you see me, Wyll. You have always seen me. I’ve never been the unwanted third daughter of a Lord of Baldur’s Gate or a woman with a blade and a tadpole in her head, or the possible agent of destruction for the absolute or the world, to you. You see me. Just me. Even when I was a fifteen-year-old child, scared at her first ball, attempting to disappear behind a potted plant. You saw me, you were nice to me, you asked me to dance even though I was terrible at it and you cared for me when you had no reason to. So please, Wyll, please…” Tav reached out and grabbed his hands. “Don’t push me away, because I see you too.”

Wyll blinked a couple of times before a soft smile spread across his face, “I didn’t think you remembered that dance. You are not as bad as you remember.”

“Oh, I am sure I was worse,” Tav smiled back as she tentatively, glad that he hadn’t pulled his hands out of hers. “I am not asking you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I want you to know that I am here and I see you, Wyll. No pact or son of a Duke or anything else, just you and I care for you.”

Wyll squeezed her hands lightly, sending a tingle of warmth through Tav’s whole body. After all the things she had seen and done, somehow this man holding her hands made her feel like a love-sick teenager again. The look in his eyes, a mixture of warmth and sadness was enough to make her melt if he just said the word. His lips parted for a moment and she thought it would say the words she wanted to hear so badly. That he wanted her as well, that he would risk all the pain and danger so that they could be together.

Instead, he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles, looking up at her as he did. While it wasn’t what she wanted, the look and the chaste kiss were enough to fill her stomach with butterflies.

“You’ve had a long day, I think it’s time you get some sleep, my lady,” Wyll said, his warm breath tickling her skin before he pulled away, but he didn’t let go of her hands. “Sleep well.”

“You too, my Lord,” Tav said, though her voice was more breathless than she would have liked.

Wyll held onto her hand for a second or two more, his eyes flickering to her lips for a second, before he let go and took a step back. Tav knew when she was being dismissed but as she made her way toward her bedroom, she glanced over her shoulder and saw that Wyll was watching every one of her steps.

#baldur's gate 3 #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll x tav #my writing #ficlet #fanfic

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sigridhawke · 3 months

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OC Interaction Game

I finally have time to do this aaaaaaaaaa

Tagged by @ink-flavored thank you!

Rules: Take the previous player's description of their OC, and offer up one of your own. Describe how well (or not) they'd get along!

Ink-flavored’s OC: Justice

Justice is an angel of the Christian variety, who embodies the virtue of his namesake. He fled Heaven to Earth after being a little too into justice for all humans, even ones that do sinful things, and questioning the system of sending humans to Purgatory to prove themselves worthy of Heaven. He is still incredibly conflicted about his purpose now that other angels have turned on him, and is also very concerned with "being useful" in general to those around him. When he's not in crisis mode, he enjoys doing fun little human tasks like reading and cooking and volunteering. He can sense the pain or distress of any person in his vicinity, especially if it's injustice-related, and is always helping them however he can. He puts humans at ease automatically, so most people trust him implicitly, which is great, because he loves humans and would be friends with everyone if they let him. His halo is always active, shining brightly by absorbing light from other sources around him, and he can unfurl feathered angelic wings if he wants to. He also has a flaming wheel mode he uses exclusively for combat/emergencies.

My OC: Thane

Thane is a human magister specializing in conjuration and anything textbook. Living well beyond a human’s natural lifespan, Thane delved into forbidden magic to end an old god’s (Odin) rampage, binding himself to said god in the process and plunging him into a timeloop that resets his memory every 30 years. Complexity adds to the situation when the very god he killed/saved falls in love with him and endures falling in love (most times) over and over again. To help with his broken memory, Thane details important and trivial moments in diaries for his future self to read while he looks for a way to break the curse. Despite the hardship, he carries optimism and an almost childlike wonder for things he forgets he’s experienced. Besides the old god, his beloved fae summon Muse (in the form of a feline) is his constant and rock. He loves meeting people but is acutely aware he will both outlive and forget most of them.

It took forever to decide who to pick for this but I think Thane would be the most interesting, especially when/if he finds out he accidentally kinda killed a god. I would be fascinated with how Justice would respond to that and Thane’s weird limbo of either feeling absolutely awful for doing it/living with the consequences of that; and his blank slate of not knowing anything about killing a god.

I feel like even if he didn’t specifically know what was happening or Justice’s nature, Thane would feel he could share the uglier things buried in his diaries of self-hatred for what he did to Odin (even if it saved him) and trying to end himself when ‘living for forever and remembering nothing’ got the better of him in earlier cycles. I imagine Justice would help him not feel like an awful person which would be great to hear from someone that isn’t Odin :’3ccc

Same as Justice, out of crisis mode, Thane loves reading and general human activities that involve being around others. He would love to share his cozy cottage (with pillows and fairylights and a big bay window) library with Justice.

Muse would probably want to just sprawl over Justice like a dog sized cat would lmao.

Tagging:

#tags asks and replies #ask game #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG JKBKJBSJKF

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bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue · 1 year

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Bebop Crew July Challenge, Day 2: Summer Nights

Thanks to the @bebopcrew community for the prompt list! This one is, of course, inspired by the song “Summer Nights” from Grease. Takes place post-finale.

Summer lovin’, had me a blast…

Summer lovin’, happened so fast…

Faye swore she usually had more sophisticated tastes than the almost-a-century-old film about teenage greasers in the 1950s, peppily singing and dancing their way through high school friendships and romances. Grease, she admitted, was a bit of a guilty pleasure for her, and she knew she’d probably be subject to merciless teasing if any other members of the crew caught her watching it unironically. But she stood by her love of the movie, embarrassing as it may have been.

She knew, of course—she knew very well from experience—that the real world wasn’t like the one portrayed in Grease; it didn’t have musical numbers and dance-offs and perfect happy endings where people’s cars inexplicably took off flying into the sky. (Although she supposed maybe her Red Tail counted…) The real world was filled with hard times, bad luck, scammers and con artists you couldn’t trust. The real world, put simply, sucked. But sometimes it was nice to pretend.

And at the end of a long, crappy day like today—when her bounty heads had all gotten away, her horses had all lost, and to top it all off, there was nothing good to eat anywhere on the ship—it was nice to watch something calming, familiar, silly, that would let her relax and turn off her brain. Particularly when she was in the optimal viewing position: alone, curled up on her bed, with headphones connected to the TV and jammed firmly over her ears. It especially helped if she had a drink or two to go with it, too. (Because of course the ship had that.)

“Damn, Faye,” came a voice, “didn’t realize you were actually twelve years old.” Faye turned in surprise to see Spike standing in the doorway, a sideways grin on his face.

She was going to destroy these headphones.

“Oh, are you talking about this absolute cinematic masterpiece I’m watching?” she said lightly, taking off her headphones so they hung around her neck, but letting the movie continue to play in the background. She knew this whole song by heart anyway, not that she’d readily admit that to Spike. Now that her headphones were off, she could tell they didn’t block out noise very well—stupid cheap things—and the movie’s sounds were quite easily audible through their tinny speakers even when they were plugged in. The T-Birds and the Pink Ladies crooned faintly underneath her words. Tell me more, tell me more….

“This music is giving me diabetes just from listening to it,” Spike complained.

Faye grinned. “Your tastes just aren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate it.” She may have dreaded her crewmates’ teasing, but she could give as good as she got.

Spike made his way to Faye’s bed and leaned over her shoulder to look at the movie. A few minutes passed quietly this way, with Spike furrowing his brow, a vaguely confused expression on his face as he took in the action. Finally, he broke the silence. “There’s no way these actors are high schoolers,” he said, jabbing his finger at Rizzo on the screen. “I mean, how old’s that one? 30?”

“I notice you haven’t stopped watching.”

“I just wanna see how stupid it is,” Spike protested. But, just as Faye said, he didn’t stop watching. He kept looking over Faye’s shoulder, leaning against her bedpost in that casual way of his. He was mostly silent except for the occasional, “Who’s that?” and “What’s with that ridiculous getup?” and “Oh, god dammit, they’re singing again?”

Faye found it strange to watch her designated Movie For Bad Days with Spike in the room, judging it all. But she duly fended off his comments: “That’s Frenchy, she’s one of the Pink Ladies”; “You mean that beautiful getup, and it’s from like 120 years ago anyway”; “It’s a musical, Spike, not a snooze-ical. Now shut up, I wanna hear this.”

At one point, Spike pointed to Danny Zuko and asked, with a sly, joking smile, “You think I could pull off that look?”

“As if there was enough grease in the world to tame your hair like that.”

“Find me a pair of leather pants,” he said, “and I’ll get back to you.”

“The real question is, could you dance like that,” said Faye.

“Could I? Sure,” Spike answered. “Would I? With all those weird-ass pelvic thrusts? You couldn’t pay me.”

Faye smiled; she couldn’t help herself. “That’s kinda what you look like when you’re fighting.”

“Please.” Spike shook his head and turned away. “Zucchini or whatever his name is wishes he could do it like me.”

At another point, he blurted out incredulously, “You have this shit memorized?” and Faye realized she’d been unconsciously mouthing the lyrics to one of the songs, matching it word-for-word. She hadn’t even noticed she was doing it.

“You know the exact order of all those tracks on Jet’s favorite Charlie Parker album,” she rejoined.

“I’d better,” Spike grumbled, “after he’s subjected me to it all those times.” Then he looked at her, his brow furrowed again. “How many times have you watched this?”

“Maybe I’m just a genius,” she said, “with a photographic memory. And I can learn things by heart after only seeing them once.”

Spike snorted. “And that’s why you’re so great at blackjack.”

“Screw you, Spike,” she said, taking another swig of alcohol and turning her attention back to the screen.

A few minutes of silence passed before she spoke again.

“I watched this as a kid,” she said, her voice quieter as she reminisced. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Spike leaning in a tiny bit closer to listen. “My friends and I did a cheerleading routine to Greased Lightning one year, and we performed it at our school’s end-of-year exhibition.” Her face split into a surprisingly soft grin at the memory. “One of my friend’s moms showed us the actual movie, and after that we watched it so many times that we memorized all the songs, not just Greased Lightning, and we’d act them out when we were bored. God, we made up whole dance routines to them.” She gave a small laugh. “We must have looked so ridiculous. There weren’t enough of us for all the roles, so usually one of us was all of the T-Birds at once, and one of us was all the Pink Ladies. It’s one of the memories that came back.”

She wasn’t usually this unguarded, especially not when she talked about herself, and especially not when she recalled another snatch of memory about her past life. It usually just brought back what had been taken from her, what would never be again. It felt like physical pain, like jabbing at a bruise or a gunshot wound that hadn’t fully healed.

She wasn’t sure what had changed today. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was as if the wound was finally starting to scar over. Her past memories no longer always came with the sharp pang of the reminder of what she didn’t have. Now, she could recall the happiness of back then, too, and just appreciate it for what it was.

Or maybe it was because she wasn’t entirely friendless anymore. Although she’d never consider doing a choreographed dance routine to Greased Lightning with the friends she had now. (Then again, it did make her laugh to imagine Spike forced into what he’d called “that ridiculous getup,” a deep scowl on his face as he halfheartedly performed the movements.)

What mattered was that her friends were there. In a way, they’d always been there, there on the Bebop—the place she’d flitted into and out of at will, the place she’d refused to ever truly consider a home, the only place left for her after every place she remembered from her childhood was destroyed. After spending so long on the ship with Spike and Jet and Ed and Ein—these people who didn’t abandon her, even if they left for a while—she was just beginning to appreciate that.

Spike appeared to consider her words for a while, looking surprisingly thoughtful, pensive. Faye wondered if he was imagining what she must have looked like as a kid, twirling and dancing around with her friends. She’d only been a year or two younger than when she’d recorded the VHS for her future self, after all.

Then, abruptly, his face snapped back into its usual cool, lazy expression. “So…you’re not a genius with a photographic memory.”

“Maybe I just had to watch it once back then to memorize it,” she said, her light tone returning as well. “And how do you know I’m not a genius? Sixty years is a long time to keep something in your head, you know.”

That was another sign she was recovering from having lost her memories and then gotten them back. She could joke about it. The wound didn’t feel too fresh, too raw. The realization made her heart feel light.

“Now shut up,” she said, a faint smile on her face. “I wanna watch.”

Spike rolled his eyes, but obligingly shut up. But he did elbow Faye, prompting her to scooch over, and then clambered onto her bed next to her, leaning over to see the screen without touching her. Faye didn’t kick him off.

And together—Spike with his knees drawn up to his chest, Faye mouthing and sometimes softly singing all the lyrics she could remember, both of them taking alternating swigs from the bottle between them—they watched.

Summer dreams ripped at the seams,

But oh, those summer nights….

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