#( from the ashes of shattered dreams ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kneelingshadowsalome · 7 months

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Ok but what if

What if Ghost was a knight (again) and then there's a spoiled, presumptuous lady who's bored (again)

She's the kind of princess who was dearly loved because she was a girl. No one knows why, because everyone knows girls are a liability. But she has been treasured and sheltered all her life, she always got everything she wanted, and now she's stupid enough to fall for Simon who has lived a life full of war and torment and who is not the kind of stray dog you would want to feed.

Our poor lady doesn't know she's playing with fire when she's toying with her father's (Price?) most loyal soldier: a brooding, tall, broad man who got his knighthood after this campaign or that. This outlander, Simon, catches her attention because he rarely speaks and never smiles, but makes her smallclothes wet because he has an ill look about him: a broken nose and a thin lipped, downturned mouth. This sir is looking everyone from under his brow like they're mere children in his eyes. The only time she's heard him speak is when he's barking orders in the courtyard.

She teases and teases and teases him: flirting every chance she can get, giving him soft brushes that barely remain within the bounds of propriety. She bestows heated stares that linger a little too long, she licks and parts her lips when they walk past each other in the cold, dimly lit corridors of the castle. He never returns any of her flirts.

Except the stares.

She can feel his eyes on her even when she's not looking. That coal-like stare is fixed on her wherever she goes: it's hot and cold at the same time, like embers that are kindling under long-forgotten ashes.

He's interested… But only in a way that a hungry, beaten, suspicious dog is interested when it's staring at a meaty bone, trying to decode if it's a treat or a trap.

He finally has enough one day when she dares to smile at him: softly, knowingly, like a whore in a tavern.

The gauntlet closes around her neck like an iron collar. She can smell the horses and the sweat and the dirty leather as the man she has dreamed of seizes her and pushes her back against a wall.

"Is this what you want? Hm?"

She finally hears him speak: dark, gravelly, and borderline exhausted from all the games she plays. Were he to hold her a little more tightly, she would call it a choke, a soft and slow strangling. The intensity is enough to make her heart flutter and her stare escape somewhere to the grey stone wall. There's no way she can meet that heated stare, now filled with flames and lust.

The knight she used to fantasize about is about to snap. The stoic, cold man is about to lose control at any given moment, and she's about to lose her maidenhood along with that shattered self-control.

He presses his whole body against her: leather and steel and hardened muscle, all that rough, well fed, thick flesh forged in countless battles is pressed against her frame like she is nothing but a flower. Her woolen dress is a poor shield against all the hard ridges of his armour, the pommel of his sword digs into her side painfully, but she pays it no mind. There's something equally as hard and demanding pressed against the apex between her legs. She's forced to rise to her toes from the way he drives his swollen cock up her cunt, and even if there's layers and layers of clothing between them, she can feel the heat of him.

"'S not a good idea to tease a starved dog," he snarls while watching her lose her confidence. All of it, because it was only ever a charade. A silly daydream of a silly young woman, just an attempt to distract herself, a pastime game that happened to turn into a dangerous obsession.

And he growls. He actually growls like a hound when she's suddenly so weak she can't even provide him with an answer. It's a dark rumble that meets her chest, a hot, slow breath that passes across her frightened skin. She feels like floating: his cock raises her from the ground as he tries to fuck into her through their clothes. The ironclad hand has never even seen mercy as it turns her head to the side for him to have a good sniff of her neck and hair.

"Sir," her lips tremble; her whole jaw is making it clear that she's about to cry soon. There's not enough stones on the wall for her to count if he decides to take her here. "Simon…? Please, sir. I'm a virgin…"

#cw: dark content #meeting on the turret stairs but with more dubcon #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #knight!ghost #medieval au #sansan vibes

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ystrike1 · 5 months

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I'm the One Who Died, but the Hero Went Crazy - By Chiwa (8/10)

Dragons and magic with a splash of sincerity. This time the crazed Duke is a loving man, who was mistreated horribly after his true love died. She sacrificed herself. He took revenge for her sake. Then, he faced endless pressure to marry and forget her noble final act. When she returns he is too broken to recognize her new form.

Aryn is your average hardworking and special sorceress. She won contracts with the four greatest elemental spirits. She did it all so she could accompany and protect her only friend. The chosen hero, Elkinas. Elkinas was her best friend. A good friend. A kind boy and man. Someone she could not abandon. When the nation forced destiny upon him she followed him to war, and he was eternally grateful. He made sure she knew how much he valued her....friendship...

She dies before Elkinas can propose to her.

The worst part is she dies happy. In her short life she accomplished so much. She was a girl from nowhere. Elkinas became her friend by sheer coincidence, before he was miraculously found by his noble parents. He was an orphan. Her regular friend. She loved watching him grow, and she loved growing too.

Sacrificing herself for him, when the time to kill the great dragon came, wasn't even a question. She didn't think before she did it, and she doesn't regret it.

She begs for Elkinas. She wants to see him one last time before she dies.

She does not see him. He doesn't go to her. He's busy. You see, he knows she's gone. There's no way to save her, and there's no time to waste. He will bring her back. No matter what. In the chaos he quickly steals the cursed dragons egg. He plans to cultivate the monster inside, so he can use it to turn back time.

To get Aryn back.

He did it all for her.

He became a perfect Duke for her. He endured his hellish family to become an ideal husband, and she never knew. She was too focused on helping him to notice his feelings. He was ok with that. He wanted her to figure it out when he was irresistible, wealthy and charming. His orphan self had to be gone from her mind.

He was so close.

His cherished dream shatters, and he becomes a villain to get it back.

He tries for 60 years. He is immortal. The gods granted him that, because he killed the cursed dragon. He used that heavy blessing to conduct experiments. His other friends tried to reason with him. They failed.

When Aryn awakens 80 years later she can't believe it. Her sweet childhood friend??? A villain???

She also doesn't know he loves her, which is annoying but ok. He was hiding it from her so she gets a pass.

Aryn is more beautiful now. Her new body was born inside the World Tree. Technically, her father is Zephyr. A Dragon Lord. He stole her soul to resurrect her with the help of the World Tree. Elkinas and Aryn are both very special people, who have been granted immortality. Elkinas doesn't know this because he is currently too dangerous to interact with Aryn.

When she arrives at the castle she finds the child he created alone. He is feared by the servants and seen as a cursed child.

At first it's disappointing. You think the Duke is a stereotypical cold man, but he doesn't know "Adelle" is actually Aryn. He hires her to protect and care for his son.

He's a little crazy, because people having stopped harassing him since Aryn died. Women who enchanted themselves to look like Aryn have appeared on his doorstep...claiming to be her. His madness is kind of understandable, but at the same time he is a beautiful demi-god. Of course plenty of evil women are willing to do anything to marry him.

Aryn begins to see his good side when she becomes his employee. They become friends and allies quickly, because "Adelle" sincerely wants to help him and his child.

No...she doesn't know the kid is made of her ashes.

The Duke becomes happier. Elkinas calms down when Aryn/Adelle helps him protect his son. Turns out the boy is cursed, but he wasn't born cursed. One of the Duke's enemies did it. Elkinas couldn't figure it out, because he's not all powerful. He needed help from an Elemental Sorcerer, and those are really rare. "Adelle" is a real blessing that helps him in many ways. He becomes friendly, but not romantic. He can't really date at the moment.

He's too busy grieving.

His son is all that is left of Aryn.

He gave up on resurrecting her 20 years ago. He cremated her and made the boy in a surge of grief. He never wanted to destroy the world. The dragons egg never hatched for him. It was never going to. He was delusional. In denial all along. His friends were absolutely right. Beating them up and chasing them out didn't change that.

He tries to focus on the happiness he has, with the child he created.

Maybe this is where the story should have ended.

"Adelle" was planning on raising the boy...and leaving afterwards. We could have had a bittersweet story, where the Duke does eventually get over Aryn. One where he focuses on raising his son made of ash and blood.....but there's an evil princess.

"Adelle" ALMOST gets away with it. Elkinas ALMOST lets her go. He ALMOST doesn't notice that Aryn is right in front of him, living and breathing.

The prophetic princess changes that. This prophet told him Aryn would return......to get his attention. He kept her around for a while. Unable to let go at the time. She used his trauma to get into his good graces, and she's been trying to seduce him ever since.

After "Adelle" purifies the curse on his son he warns her. He no longer needs her comforting lies. He will not marry her, and her life is forfeit if she continues to preen in front of him.

She doesn't stop.

She meets "Adelle" and she immediately assumes the nanny is his lover.

"Adelle" realizes that Elkinas is the same man. He doesn't attack unless provoked. His days of madness are winding down. She's about to accomplish her goal. Her best friend will be happy. She promises to raise his son (her son) well, and they start to eat family meals together. The servants stop fearing the boy. His existence is officially announced...and the princess moves.

Her jealousy explodes. She tried to seduce the Duke for years.

She won't give up.

When the Duke introduces his son to the people a battle breaks out.

Elkinas is actually great. He prioritizes his son's safety above all else. He treats "Adelle" like a trustworthy bodyguard. "Adelle" pretends to be hypnotized by the princess, in order to get information from her. The situation keeps getting more dangerous though. Duke Elkinas isn't just a Duke. He's the legendary hero. His children will be immortal. He is the most powerful fighter ever and human diseases can't touch him. The royal princess will not stop until she has the power of God in her hands. In her family line. For her people. For love. She's madly in love with him, and her entire family supports her.

The princess is why "Adelle" fails, and Aryn is eventually exposed.

The series seems to be going for a more comedic tone.....but I'm not sure what will happen. Aryn lied to Elkinas, over and over. He's been broken because of her death for 80 years, and she's actively hiding from him. I think the truth will hurt him, at least a little.

Zephyr, "Adelle's" father, desperately tries to cover her true identity...but Elkinas keeps digging. The conflict with the princess exposes "Adelle". "Adelle" is loved by all four spirits...like Aryn. They also talk the same and act the same.

I sense an explosion.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #I'm the One Who Died #but the Hero Went Crazy

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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months

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I Didn't Ask For This (part 11)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought

.All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Azriel's pov.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the glare of the morning sun streaming in through the window.

He always had his windows and blinds shut so no light would disturb his rare slumber. Why weren't the blinds closed?

He turned his head away, trying to turn away, but he froze when he realised there was something heavy on his chest. He blinked his eyes open cautiously. He knew it wouldn't be anything dangerous, because if it was, his shadows would have woken him up a long time ago.

When he realised what– who– it was, his heart skipped a beat.

There, on his chest lay his wife's head, her features incredibly softened. Her hand was gently draped over his abdomen.

He stared at the female. He always knew she was beautiful, but now he could actually see every small detail on her face. He hadn't noticed them till now because he had never been so close to her before, and if he stared for too long, he was afraid he'd offend her in some way or creep her out. And he didn't want that.

He lifted his hand to push back that strand of hair on her face that seemed to have a problem staying in place. He didn't pull his hand back though. He caressed her hair, staring at her closed eyes and her lips. Her nose and cheeks. Azriel was fascinated to say the least.

Y/n's brow furrowed, and Azriel pulled his hand back, holding still as she shifted. She pulled away from him, only to rest her head on his bicep, giving him space to turn onto his side. So he did, still studying her features.

He tried to not touch her, but his hand and mind were not on speaking terms, it seemed. His fingers ghosted over the arch of her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, the dip on her chin.

Now he knew why he had slept so peacefully and deeply for the first time in such a long time.

As he did all that again, his mind wandered.

•○🌑○•

He had reached the camp that he and Y/n had been born in within moments of leaving the House of Wind at dusk, having winnowed there. He had stopped to get some of the supplies he would need before flying the rest of the way.

When he reached the camp, he stashed the supplies he'd bought in his shadows and began the long work of sneaking narrow eyed females and their children out of the camp. He had planned to return before dinner, but convincing the females had been harder than he thought and took longer than anticipated.

But once he was done, he had wrapped his shadows around himself and started the work of drenching the whole place in the flammable material the male from the shop had given him. He flew quietly and swiftly with the huge can in his hands, making sure he wasn't making any sounds.

When he did that too, he started the fire and watched the camp burn down.

He knew the pain. How it burned. How it felt as if death would be a more peaceful option. How skin practically melts of the bones.

So when the screams started, he smiled.

He smiled as the wails and ear splitting shrieks filled the night air.

And then he went in search of the males he hated above all.

He walked through the heat of the fire, cautious of the flames and searched for his childhood home, if it could even be called that.

There they were, trying to get away from the flames that encircled them so that they could spread their wings to fly away.

He stared at the three men, his father and stepbrothers, trying frantically to search for a way out. He stared as one of his brother's hands caught fire and he screeched, the other's wings burning, his father's clothes turning to ash with the flames. Azriel smiled all the while.

And maybe that made him a sadistic bastard, but he was the Spymaster of Night Court. Being sadistic came with the position.

And then, his father looked up and froze, recognition lighting his eyes after a moment.

"Azriel." He whispered, but Azriel heard it clearly, as clearly as if he had spoken in his ear.

"Hello. Father." He added as a second thought. His brothers looked up, stopping mid scream.

"Shit." One of them continued screaming.

"How does it feel?" Azriel asked. He was enjoying this too much.

"You are our brother. Please save us. We were so worried about you when you left." The older one pleaded.

Azriel raised his brows. "Why would I save you and let all my efforts go to waste?"

They blanched even more. "You–you started the fire?"

"Who else would do that?"

"Azriel, son. Please, give us one more chance. I promise we will show you how much we care about you–"

"You can show the Mother that. When–if she blesses you with her presence in the afterlife. I highly doubt that, though." With that, Azriel turned on his heel, going to hunt down Y/n's father.

"Please, stop! Come back! We'll do anything you ask!"

Azriel paused. "Anything?"

"Yes! Anything!"

"Hmm. Tell me where Y/n's father lives."

"Y/n? Who is that?"

"The girl you promised me to."

"Oh that man lives in that house." His father pointed towards a house nearby.

"Alright. Thank you for the assistance." Azriel continued on towards the house his father had indicated.

"Wait! Where are you going?! Help us!"

"Again, why would I do that?"

"You said..."

"I never promised anything, father. You assumed."

He chuckled to himself as he heard profanities and curses being spewed at him.

He kicked open the door to the burning house he had been pointed to, and found Y/n's father lying down, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, his face and clothes damp with sweat. "Father in law. How are you doing."

Azriel didn't necessarily want the answer to that. He couldn't care less about it.

"S–son. Save me..."

Azriel smiled. "What do you think I am here for?"

•○🌑○•

He surprised himself with the satisfaction he got by doing that. He never thought that inflicting the same pain he had endured that made him hate his hands on others would be something he could be proud of.

Nonetheless, he was satisfied. Which was very concerning, but as long as it made his wife happy, he would burn down the whole of Prythian.

He ran his fingers through her hair, then realised she was staring at him. He froze.

"How long have you been staring at me?" He asked.

She huffed. "Don't you think I should be the one asking that?"

"Well, I asked first. You must answer."

"Hmm. Since you turned this way. May I ask what you were fantasising about that you didn't notice I was awake?"

He smirked, moving to sit up. "Trust me darling, you'd rather I show it to you." He whispered in her ear before standing. She gaped at him, looking furious. He knew it was all fake.

As soon as he turned away from her, a pillow smacked the back of his head and he chuckled. He picked the clothes he'd worn before his night clothes and waved at her as he walk out the door.

But he paused before closing the door behind him. He poked his head in, opening his mouth. But then he just stared.

There on the bed, she was sitting. Smiling widely at her hands and shaking her head. She looked to the balcony and bit her lip, lost in thought before moving to stand up. He smiled too, before finally interrupting the daydream she was having.

"Hey professional pillow thrower?" She whipped towards him with a gasp. "Lunch today?"

She blinked, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Sure."

"See you soon then. I mean, take your time smiling at the walls. I won't mind." He ducked away and closed the door before the pillow she threw at him again could land its mark.

Grinning, he turned to walk to his room. Then he stopped in his tracks when he found Cassian leaning against a wall nearby, his arms wrapped over his chest, wiggling his brows.

Azriel continued walking, trying to ignore the knowing look on his brother's face. "Shut up." He muttered when he passed by Cass.

"But I said nothing!" Unfortunately, Cassian followed Azriel to his room. "Though I can't help but wonder, are you skills gone or something? I heard nothing last night. No moans and groans and your name being screamed–"

Azriel shoved the bundle of clothes he had in his hands in Cassian's face before slamming the door in his face. He could hear Cassian's boisterous laugh through the door, and honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if the whole of Velaris heard it.

"Take her to a good place brother! For lunch I mean!" Cassian said through the door before his steps retreated.

Azriel huffed, but couldn't stop the smile that made its way onto his face. He leaned his head against the door, grinning before smacking his forehead and making his way to the bathing room.

•○🌑○•

Part 12

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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adoregojo · 8 days

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✘ unrequited love

summary: loves echoes through the darkness, yet there's no light to erase it.

↝ they like you, you don't seem to share the bits of it.

context: unrequited love, angst no comfort, !!gn reader!!, angst and also angst, mention of blood, character: isagi, bachira, nagi, rin.

Isagi.y

he felt his heart break a bit, didn't shatter. just a little crack that made him lose his breathing track for a second.

he has to take a step back from you, to 'comprehend’ it, and by that he means living his ordinary road, just with a new layer of wretchedness. He really tried going on his old ways, yet his attempts were futile. He wouldn't utter a tune on breakfast with his family, his friends would ask him why he stuck to the mud all of a sudden, he would woolgather like there was a castle in the sky, in class, in practice to the locker room.

he would walk back home, stare at the mirror, and surveyed his features. fingers crossed his face, did he perhaps not fit the standards? more importantly, your standards? he does realize that he wasn't that much of an eye candy, but he definitely wasn't an eyesore either. did he look too basic? he’ve always been told that by his teammates一yet you always told him that they're just jealous that they don't carry the most splendid, navy blue pairs of eyes around really一god, he really missed you.

he tried, he really did try to connect the puzzle, solve it to get the idea out of your mind. laying in bed with his hands behind his head, his ceiling seems to be the most interesting thing to ever exist. Was he not your ideal type? you always told him that as long as heart remains genial, it’d be good enough. did his heart come out as ruthless? well, it's not like his behavior on the field is helping.

it took him a good long days to get it, this was not a game he could fathom in a blink, this was you. he can't change what you think of him, he can't force you to see him as the almighty devotion defines that he sees you as, he can't make you love him, as much as he wishes and prays to. for once, this isn't something that his ego could grasp on, even for his sake.

he asks you to be friends again, if you were kind enough to agree, he'd be willing to get on his knees, thanking what you had left of sympathy for him. even if life never came back like it used to, as long as you're by his side, it's not the end of the world just yet.

isagi could just wish, you’d somehow discern a new corner in your heart that’ll behold as a sense of love for him, for what he had of selfishness clinging onto him, for what he had of undying love for you.

Bachira.m

he really, lived and witnessed the world ending through his eyes and mostly his heart.

to put it mildly, bachira have always been out of place. to other people, he didn't seem to reach out of his weird spot he somehow earned. you were nice though, the nicest person he had ever met, you were his special place, and the safest of all. his favorite flower and the references to cross his brush over the pearly white papers. and with all the cheesiest in the world一his universe.

it was an unyielding thing to not catch feelings for you, his ever first friend that didn't feel ashamed when hearing his name beside yours, till he found himself wanting more than just that title, for you to be his better half sounded like a paradise blessing pouring on him.

there would be dreams where he'd finally get to press his lips against yours, it's too good to be true, the warmth and the dizziness, the sweet flavor against his lips was making his mind melt to a pool, made him heat up like he was standing above a low steam stone, he wanted more, till he'd fell unconscious in your arms from the lack of air, never ever wanting it to come to an end, yet I'll eventually burn to ashes.

he never hated you, he could never. even when you uttered the words of rejection that came like a keen pain right up his chest. it hurts, more than any punch, kick or insult he'd receive. his wheel of life seemed to diminish, and his eyes began to water.

a part of him knew this was coming, even when you became something of him, there will always be a sound whispering how inadequate he'll remain, no matter how he tries.

but hey, it's bachira. the same guy that’ll always look at the brightest side. above all, it's still love, yeah? even if you didn't return it, he was grateful that he somehow got to experience it, to pick raw flowers from the backyard with the biggest, lovesick smile glued to his face. to wake up everyday just to see you again was enough reason to leap off the bed. he was glad to say he for once, had a crush, coating the fact that his feelings got smashed to a wall. he was glad to feel any sense of true love.

your existence alone in his world was the definition of bliss, maybe he was sad because he wasn't in yours.

after all, you loving him back was too good to be true. being your friend should be an honor itself, he’ll keep on telling that to himself, till he finds the right extinguisher for the fire you lit up his heart.

Nagi. S

“sei.. I'm sorry, but I don't like you that way.”

“oh.” it was light, a tune of realization. In an instant, his eyes are empty again, the world blends to a hue of gray he knows the most, and suddenly sinking into a dreamless slumber for a whole day sounded like a brilliant idea.

“okay.” that's it, that's all he had to say before he's.. him again. he was nagi again, not the seishirou that fell smitten and starstruck, the one you made with your bare hands, the better version一the happiest version of himself.

he doesn't get a grasp on why he felt nothing at that moment, but at the same time he felt everything一it almost felt like he had an organ failure, but also his heart rate draw at halt. it was hard to put it on words一but what he knew, he definitely never, ever wants to experience anything like that again.

for the longest time, nagi always lends to your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours, it's been like this for the longest time. you and him, perhaps against the world一but really, it was more like you against the world while he immerse in your shadow.

he didn't mind. your light has always been overcasting. your smile was radiant, with your eyes aglow, he couldn't help but feel small. he was nothing against the brightest star to ablaze at him, and for the countless nights, he'd wondered一why him? nagi didn't exactly embrace the fact he was a slacker, he just tended to let it be this way, it was too much of a hassle to correct it一or maybe it was a truth that cannot be denied, who knows.

it was mostly his fault, for getting too used to you, for leaning on you like his own wheel of life. but he didn't want to let you go, it would be a pain一he was selfish after all.

nagi would slim down on your shoulder, he can feel your slightest tenseness. you were always comfortable, so comfortable that he could just be one with you.

“do you like me back yet?” he would ask, you say nothing. he’d inhale a soft sigh, snuggling onto you even more till his snowy locks kept on tickling the skin of your neck.

“that's okay, I'll stay here until you like me back.”

you again say nothing, but you’ll let him hold your hand, meshing your palms together. maybe he'll let go when his heart stops skipping a beat for you, or when the world comes to crumble, but they both end up with the same fate anyway, so it didn't really matter.

Rin.i

he knew he'll at some point regret this. wanting you of all people was a sin, a forbidden love.

despite his ears ringing, and his heart dropping to his core. he saw it coming, he would mutter that he'd be ready for it, just for it to sting like a sore thumb. it felt like he was collapsing on the ground with a pool of blood and tears, and all you’d do is watch with pity.

he felt bare, naked and exposed, he wanted to hide. he felt rejected and small. Suddenly he was fifteen again, pleading for his big brother to not leave him to rot in the cold, to not let the snow be the only source of comfort he had instead of a warm embrace.

for once, he had felt his heart swell with adoration一for a second, he didn't even have a name for that feeling, was was genuinely confident that you were making him somehow ill, there had to be a medical explanation for the mini heart attack he suffered from whenever he witnessed you at elation.

he allowed it to happen, he should've pushed you away more, he should've stood up his ground, he should've made more effort to strengthen his walls that you decayed with ease.

but what was there to wonder about the ‘what if's’ and the ‘maybe's’ yet again here he was, playing a secondary role in the ones he loved the most once again. digging his own grave stupidly.

for the first time in forever, he didn't feel like it was a challenge to love him, he didn't have to look at his reflection and grimace, he didn't have to be muddled by the name ‘itoshi sae’ this time, he was rin一your rin, was it bad that he wanted to live by that? it felt right to.

he knew he wasn't perfect, maybe even his flaws swamped over what he had of strengths. yet you seemed to admire him through it all, you looked at him like he was something一someone, he wanted to be that someone to you.

you managed to make everything look soft, feel warm. you stained his world with colors he thought he forgot the hues of it, he thinks he likes you a little too much.

for the longest time, rin was afraid he'll eat the life out of you, just like the maggots adore the flesh. seems like he was worried about nothing, because he’ll never be what he ought to be一yours.

you probably hate him, he did exclaimed hurtful things, he saw your eyes narrowing into a pained expression, it ached more than any rejection. he didn't know why, he was overwhelmed, angry and blinded by rage一and like the predictable itoshi he was. he revealed his cuspids and went for the throat.

he just wanted to hurt you back, that's what felt right at that moment. and yet as soon as he saw shedding tears running down your cheeks, satisfaction never came across, all he felt was a deep-seated regret. he felt ugly, sour and mean. and most of all, cruel.

and when rin sinks to his bed, he curls himself to a ball, hugging his knees to his chest. did his heart die already? or was he just too numb to feel anything at the moment? all he can sense is tiredness, so he closes his eyes to nothingness. where he dreams about you, with him in the summer breeze and cheap popsicles, and nothing bad happened to you and him.

sounds like a nice dream.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #isagi x reader #nagi x reader #rin x reader #bachira x reader #rin itoshi x reader #bachira meguru x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months

Text

All The Lies || B. Barnes - Part 3

Character: mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Y/N, haunted by guilt and betrayal, visits her ailing father, who reveals Bucky's apology and love despite their tragic past.

Warning: Angst, heartbreak.

Part 1: Echoes Of Revenge

Part 2: Shattered Echoes

Part 4: Sweetest Dreams

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Six months. 182 excruciating days since Bucky's eyes, dull and defeated, had mirrored the desolation gnawing at Y/N's soul. His words, "heartless woman," still echoed through the corridors of her mind, a spectral curse that clung to every breath she took.

She told herself it was righteous anger, the echo of justified revenge, but the bitter and jagged truth was that she saw a defeated man, broken at her feet every time she closed her eyes.

Then came the call, her mother's voice, tinged with worry, shattering the fragile normalcy she'd pieced together. "He's sick," she whispered, "your father." Y/N knew, even before the words left her mother's lips, that it was an act of defiance, a silent plea for reconciliation forged in the crucible of illness.

A deep and guttural sigh ripped through her, a mirror to the chasm between her and her father. His disapproval, a boulder thrown at her heart for her unconventional methods of vengeance, had created a distance so vast it felt like galaxies separated them.

Packing was a desperate attempt to outrun the ghosts that haunted her. Once a canvas of shared dreams, the city now felt like a labyrinth of memories.

Every corner whispered of Bucky, his laughter echoing in bustling cafes, his touch lingering in the rustling of leaves in the park where they'd first kissed. Did he still walk these streets? Was he haunted by her, too, by the love she'd poisoned with her vengeance?

The hospital, sterile and reeking of disinfectant, felt like a tomb. Her mother's embrace, warm but brittle, couldn't dispel the ice clinging to Y/N's heart. "Go see him," her mother's voice cracked.

As the door slid open, revealing the sterile white room, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. There, on the bed, lay her father, pale and frail, the years etched into his face like a cruel map of her absence.

The tears, long held at bay, finally broke free, flooding the sterile room with the bitter tide of regret. She knelt beside the bed, her hand reaching for his, a desperate plea for forgiveness, for a chance to mend what she'd broken. She has disappointed her parents and destroyed Bucky.

"Forgive me. You did all of this because of me." Her father's words hung heavy in the sterile air, each syllable a shard of guilt wedging itself into Y/N's already wounded heart.

"Dad," she choked out, the word a flimsy dam against the tide of emotions threatening to engulf her. "It doesn't matter. We won."

Her father's voice, raspy with illness and regret, shifted the conversation. "That boy came here."

"Who?" Y/N's breath caught, a flicker of hope battling the embers of fear.

"Bucky."

The name now felt like ash in her mouth. "Why?"

"He… he apologized," her father said, his voice cracking. "For his father."

Y/N's heart clenched. Bucky, carrying the weight of his father's cruelty, the man she'd betrayed and used his trust, had chosen to apologize instead of blaming her.

"When I saw his eyes," her father said, his grip tightening on her hand, "I knew he was different. And he told me… he loves you. But he knew you both couldn't be together. He didn't want to burden you with the past."

"He was different," her father continued, his voice a weary echo. "From the last time I saw him. Fifteen years, can you believe it?"

"You know him?" she asked, her voice a mere tremor in the silence.

Her father nodded, a bittersweet smile twisting his lips. "The reason I stayed friends with Nicholas is because of Bucky."

"Why?" she whispered, the question a desperate plea for understanding.

Her father sighed, the sound heavy with a lifetime of unspoken words. "Nicholas is a businessman," he rasped, "cold, ruthless. Not fit to be a father. I met Bucky when I visited their home. Skinny, malnourished, haunted by his father's cruelty. I went there a few times, just to check on him, to make sure he was okay."

He continued "He's a good man."

He pulled her close, his embrace a fragile offering of comfort. "You're my precious daughter," he murmured, his voice trembling. "I don't want you haunted by the ghosts of this. You deserve to find happiness, to build a life free from the shackles of the past."

Y/N clung to her father, the tears she'd held back for so long finally spilling over. Each drop felt like a release, a purging of the guilt and anger that had poisoned her for years.

But the weight of his words, "you deserve to find happiness," echoed through her like a mournful wail. Could happiness truly exist without Bucky? Could she ever truly escape the ghosts of their shared past?

The city lights bled into the night sky, painting the air with a luminescent haze. Y/N walked, a solitary figure navigating the urban jungle, her thoughts tangled with the echo of her father's words.

The weight of his love and his pain, the burden of his betrayal and Bucky's apology, all pressed down on her, a storm brewing within.

Driven by a subconscious desire, or perhaps a cruel twist of fate, her feet led her to the pulsating heart of the city – Club Onyx, Bucky's domain.

The bass throbbed like a heartbeat, the air thick with sweat and expensive perfume. Inside, the dance floor was a kaleidoscope of bodies, lost in the rhythm, their worries and woes melting away in the strobe-lit frenzy.

But for Y/N, the music was a cacophony, the laughter a mocking echo. She perched at the bar, nursing a drink that tasted of ashes. Her unseeing gaze flickered across the crowd, searching for a ghost, a silhouette that wouldn't be there.

Even if she did find him, what would she say?

A tap on her shoulder startled her. Turning, she met the familiar eyes of Steve, Bucky's friend, a witness to their love story and its tragic demise. "Y/N?" his voice was hesitant, unsure.

She managed a weak smile. "Steve."

He slid onto the stool beside her, his gaze holding a quiet understanding. "Are you here to drown your sorrows or find him?"

Y/N shrugged, the gesture mirroring the storm raging within. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe both."

Steve sighed, a deep rumble that mirrored the bass thumping through the club. "I don't know what happened between you two," he confessed, his eyes filled with a flicker of pain. "For a year, Bucky searched for you like a man possessed. Then one day, he just… left. Came back a shell of his former self."

His words cut through her like a knife, twisting the wound she'd tried to bury. The guilt, a venomous serpent, coiled tighter in her stomach. Bucky had searched for her, even after she'd pushed him away and declared him the enemy.

And what had she done in return? Abandoned him, condemned him to a life of shadows. The guilt gnawed at Y/N's insides, a relentless worm feasting on her fragile peace.

"He just kept saying 'not meant to be,'" Steve revealed, his voice heavy with concern. "Since then, the laughter died in him. Sleep became a stranger, replaced by endless work."

"As his longtime friend," Steve's voice reached through the fog of her guilt, "can I ask you to see him, just talk?"

Y/N nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders like a leaden cloak. "I'll talk to him," she rasped, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

Steve's eyes, weary yet hopeful, held a silent plea. "Thank you, Y/N," he said, glancing at his watch. "Bucky should be back in half an hour. He had a quick inspection at another branch. Can you wait? The drinks are on me."

Y/N raised her glass, a wan smile twisting her lips. "One is enough," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need a clear head for this."

Steve ascended to the top floor, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts and the pulsating rhythm of the club.

**********

Ten minutes stretched into an eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the drumbeat of her growing anxiety. What would she say? How could she mend the chasm she'd carved between them?

Seeking solace in the cool anonymity of the restroom, Y/N found herself caught in a line of impatient patrons. The air, thick with perfume and the cloying scent of cheap liquor, pressed down on her like a physical weight.

Suddenly, a sharp prick on her neck sent a jolt of pain through her. The world tilted, blurred around the edges, and then, darkness claimed her.

Steve, returning to check on Y/N and inform her of Bucky's imminent arrival, found a scene of unsettling confusion. A staff member, his face etched with concern, was helping Y/N stand upright.

"What happened to her?" Steve's voice cracked with alarm.

The staff member, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and uncertainty, stammered, "I think she's... drunk."

"Bring her upstairs," Steve barked, a tremor of unease lacing his voice despite the staff member's assurances about Y/N being just drunk. But one glass? His gut screamed otherwise.

Just as Steve turned to follow, the music surged, a deliberate shift in tempo that whipped the unsuspecting club patrons onto the dance floor, creating a human wall between him and the stairs.

Cursing under his breath, Steve fought through the crowd, his eyes scanning every face for a sign of Y/N, his heart thundering a frantic tattoo against his ribs.

******

Meanwhile, Bucky, adrenaline pumping through his veins, leaped out of the car, his heart a frantic drum solo against his ribs. Steve's message, "Y/N's at the club. Waiting for you," buzzed in his ears, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

He strode into the club, his eyes scanning the throng, searching for any flicker of Y/N's familiar silhouette. Then, he spotted Steve, his friend's face etched with a panic that mirrored his own.

"Steve?" Bucky's voice, raw and desperate, cut through the cacophony.

Steve whirled around, his relief morphing into horror in an instant. "Bucky, Y/N is missing," he gasped, rushing towards him and spilling the disjointed story.

Y/N's single drink, the suspicious staff member, the sudden disappearance - it all painted a chilling picture of abduction, a reality too horrifying to contemplate.

The ground beneath Bucky's feet felt like it crumbled. He'd lost Y/N once, for a year that had felt like an eternity. The thought of losing her again, this time forever, was a blow that shattered his already fractured world.

Without a word, he bolted out of the club, the pulsing music a grim counterpoint to the frantic beat of his heart. The city lights, once a familiar comfort, now blurred past him, each neon sign a mocking reminder of the darkness that had snatched his light away.

His mind, a whirlwind of fear and desperate determination, raced through possibilities, each one a fragile thread in a web of uncertainty. He had to find her. He couldn't lose her again. Not this time.

The world spun, a hazy kaleidoscope of blurred lights and distorted sounds. Y/N groaned, her head throbbing like a captured bird against its cage.

Darkness, cold and clammy, wrapped around her, broken only by the dim luminescence of a distant bulb. A taste of metallic fear clung to her tongue, the echo of an impact she couldn't quite recall.

Her breath hitched as movement pricked the edges of her awareness. Footsteps, heavy and deliberate, crept closer, their rhythm an ominous drumbeat against the silence. Then, a figure materialized from the shadows, settling into the creaking chair opposite her.

More than a year had passed, but the passage of time hadn't softened the venomous edge to Ivan's features. Gone was the polished veneer of the Goldenlix capital, replaced by a scraggly beard and hair that hung like curtains around his gaunt face. His clothes, once impeccably tailored, now hung loose and threadbare, a testament to his fall from grace.

"You made me bankrupt, Y/N," he hissed, his voice a twisted mockery of its former smoothness. A cruel smirk twisted his lips, but the fire in his eyes lacked its usual spark, replaced by a simmering hatred that sent chills down her spine.

"And now," he continued, his fingers brushing against her chin with the caress of a serpent, "I need your Midas touch to make me rich again."

Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

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sissyisawitch · 4 months

Text

It'll Be Okay

Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x You

Summary: After the macabre events that occurred in the Feldcroft Catacomb, Sebastian is devastated. All he can think about is running away and pushing you away from him… but you don't plan to give up on him so easily.

Word Count: ~2.7k

Author's Note: This story is based on the song "It'll Be Okay" by Shawn Mendes. I hope you'll enjoy reading it!💙

Warnings: Major spoilers for the "In the Shadow of the Relic" quest + Angst

“I won’t let her suffer! Avada Kedavra!”

A flash of green light struck Solomon Sallow’s body, before it fell limp on the ground. Sebastian had done it. He had killed his uncle.

Oh, the future we dreamed of is fading to black…

He dropped his wand which clattered on the ground.

And just like that, you and Sebastian's future plans vanished, completely ruined. They used to seem so simple... you were supposed to cure Anne with the relic, make her return to Hogwarts, and then be happy all together with your little quartet of friends.

But as fate would have it, that was never going to happen.

A high-pitched, distraught voice brought you out of your thoughts, “Depulso!”

Anne had appeared in the Catacomb and apparently witnessed the whole tragic scene that had just unfolded, whereupon she herself attacked her twin brother, propelling him with all her might against one of the stone walls to stop him.

Driven by her fiery anger, she used what little strength she had left to cast a couple more spells to defeat the remaining Inferi and reduce Salazar Slytherin's Spellbook to ashes.

“NO!” Sebastian howled. He could do nothing but watch his sister destroy the book that was supposed to contain all the solutions to save her life.

“You’ve made your choice.” She said simply, before disapparating with the inert corpse of their uncle.

“Oh, Anne… What have you done?”

Oh, there's nothing more painful. Nothing more painful…

You were paralysed, unable to move even a finger after witnessing such a heartbreaking scene where a family was completely shattered, with no means or hope of ever repairing their ties. Poor Sebastian was left entirely alone, tears in his eyes, his face contorted by his crushing grief and regret. Merlin, you hated that sight with all your heart.

“I-I must get out of here.” He mumbled as he stood up and quickly looked at his surroundings, as if he were completely disorientated.

“Seb, wait!” You tried to hold him back, but Sebastian would not listen.

Instead, he fled. He ran like mad towards the exit of the Catacomb, desperate for fresh air.

“SEBASTIAN!” You shouted at the top of your lungs as you sped after him, hoping that it would be enough for him to hear you despite his head start.

It was only when you had made your way up the labyrinth of tunnels, once you were back in the Feldcroft countryside and away from the heavy atmosphere of the dusty Catacomb, that you managed to catch up with Sebastian.

Now that he was close at hand, you reached out to grab his arm, “Sebastian, stop!”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” He roared, sending your hand flying with more force than he would have used if he were in his normal state of mind.

You flinched out of reflex, but you were in no case scared of the boy. You never had been, and you knew you never would be. You understood that he was simply on edge and needed reassurance, so you kept your soft tone, “Seb–”

“STOP SAYING MY NAME!” He continued to shout in anger, but the way he was now gripping his hair and pulling at the roots showed that annoyance was being added to the palette of overwhelming emotions he was feeling at the moment. “For fuck’s sake I should’ve known better than to become friends with you in the first place.”

This. This last sentence. Maybe he could not scare you, but you too often forgot that he was still capable of hurting you, even if he did not mean any of it and it was his amalgam of panic and agitation that got the better of his words.

You tried your best to remain unfazed, “So what? You'd rather our paths had never crossed?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed without thinking twice.

I start to imagine a world where we don't collide…

For a moment, you lost yourself in your own thoughts. You imagined a parallel universe where you had never defeated Sebastian in Defence Against the Dark Arts, where he had never accompanied you to Hogsmeade on your first day at Hogwarts, and therefore a universe where you two had never become friends or exchanged a single word.

It also meant a world where you never fought trolls, goblins, and poachers together, where you never spent long nights in the Undercroft doing nothing but talking, where he never held you in his arms and comforted you whenever you were not at your best, resulting in your feelings for Sebastian blossoming into something much stronger and more genuine than friendship.

“Well, I don’t.” You finally answer.

“Well, you should.” He imitated your intonation with irritating impertinence.

You paid no attention to it, knowing better than to take any of his irrational actions into account, “Why?”

“BECAUSE I FUCKING RUINED YOUR LIFE!”

The screaming was back. Taking you by surprise once again. However this time, you were unable to react. The rawness and vulnerability of his words had hit you right in the heart, knocking the wind out of you.

“I have to go.” He muttered after your lack of reaction. He turned his back on you before setting off again, this time clearly determined to leave.

This was the moment that snapped you out of your stunned confusion, “Oh no, don’t you dare run away from me, Sallow!”

Your feet reacted even faster than your brain. You rushed towards him, but knew you would not have enough strength to hold him back, so you did the only best thing you could think of... You lunged at him and tackled him to the ground. Your body crashed into his with full force, causing his back to slam against the hard, cold, snow-covered ground.

“LET ME GO!” He fought back, kicking in all directions to try and push you off him.

“NEVER!” You pinned him down with all your strength. You were pressed on top of him while holding his hands on either side of his head, and keeping his thighs flat with your own legs. “Because you didn’t ruin my life, Sebastian.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I spent months teaching you dark magic. I just killed my uncle in front of you. You're a witness to a murder because of me! You could be sent to Azkaban BECAUSE OF ME! What more do you need to hate me? Tell me, because I'll do it right away if it means you'll stay away from me and be out of danger!”

And it's making me sick, but we'll heal and the sun will rise…

Sebastian's words made your blood run cold. Not because they made you reflect on everything he had put you through, but rather because you wondered how you were going to make him understand that you were not blaming him for anything, that the idea had never even crossed your mind.

“We can get past this. We can make things better together.” You said softly, unable to muster a better response.

He only scoffed bitterly.

“Sebastian, I don’t want to hate you, I want to be here for you!”

Judging that he seemed slightly calmer, you allowed yourself to release one of his hands to cup his cheek instead. With your thumb, you caressed his tanned skin, tracing the freckles splattered across his cheekbones. You did your best to convey your honesty and all your love for him through your delicate touch.

“No.” He replied firmly, leaving no room for negotiation, and then took advantage of your lowered guard to push you away again, this time with his hand which was now free. “Now leave me alone!”

If you tell me you're leaving, I'll make it easy…

You gave up being gentle and tackled him firmly to the floor again. You just needed him to listen to you for a few more minutes, “Okay. I won’t force you to stay if you don’t want to… But you need someone, Sebastian. Please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help!” He spat with a fury that was rarely seen in him. You had only seen it once... when he called you ignorant.

“Maybe you don’t want it, but you need it.” Now that everything had been said, you got out of his way to let him go if he so wished.

It'll be okay…

Sebastian sat up again, but stayed there, against all your expectations. You knew that all he needed was one last little push before he surrendered, so you insisted, “Don’t shut me out. Let me be here for you.”

“I–” His voice broke, giving way before he could even begin his sentence. His bottom lip quivered. “I didn’t mean to kill him. He attacked us… attacked you. I had to use the Killing Curse. You know I did!”

“I know. You did your best to protect me.” You reassured him by taking his hands in yours and giving them a little squeeze.

“I never meant for all of this to happen. I just wanted to help Anne.” It was not long before tears started to stream down his cheeks. “I want this hell to be over. Please make it stop.”

“I wish I could… but–” Now it was your voice's turn to fail you.

“I just want my little sister back.”

“I know you do… I know.” You swallowed hard to fight the tears that started to blur your vision. You could not allow yourself to cry. You had to stay strong for him. You had to be the pillar on which he could rest, because right now, he needed your help. If he saw you crying, it would only make things worse. This was not about you.

So you cuddled him against your chest, firstly to comfort him, and secondly so that he would not see the look of total dismay on your face.

“Ominis hates me too, and I can’t even blame him, because I hate myself too.” He was now full on breaking down, his head buried against your chest, and his tears streaming down your uniform jumper.

“I’ll love you enough for the two of us, then… until you learn to love yourself again, and even after.”

“I want the pain to stop. It’s been there for too long. I can’t stand it anymore.” The more time passed, the more erratic his breathing became.

“I know, baby. You’ve been so strong.” You kept spouting all the soothing words you could think of, in the hope that they would work on him.

“Please, make it stop. Please.”

“I’d take it all for you if I could. But I can’t, and I’m so sorry. I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel better.” You slowly ran your fingers through his silky brown locks, over and over again. Then you felt yourself losing your grip on your emotions, and soon your tears were flowing alongside Sebastian's.

Sebastian Sallow – the boy who was never afraid of anything and always had a trick up his sleeve – was on his knees in front of you, crying his eyes out, rendering him nothing more than the very image of misery and helplessness.

It was agonising to see the boy you loved in such a state, and not be able to do anything to make him feel better. How were you supposed to remain impassive in the face of that?

“Please fix everything. Fix me.”

“I can’t…”

And if we can't stop the bleeding… We don't have to fix it, we don't have to stay…

Sebastian's sobs continued unabated, “I’m scared to stay with you. I know I’ll end up doing something stupid and lose you too. Because that’s what I do… I do everything in my power to make the people I care about leave.”

This time, it was all too much. You could not let him belittle himself so cruelly. You grabbed his face between your hands and forced him to look straight into your eyes, not caring if they were red and swollen from all the crying, “Don’t say that. I know you made mistakes, but you’re one of the most brilliant wizards before anything else. You’re the only one who was great enough to steal my heart.”

“You’re everything I have left… I can’t lose you. Not you.” He clutched your shirt in his fists, as if he was afraid you would suddenly vanish before his eyes.

“Baby–”

Everything you were going to say died on the tip of your tongue... because Sebastian smashed his lips against yours.

You did not know exactly how it happened. You did not realise it right away because it occurred in less than a split second. And yet it was well and truly real.

There was nothing tender or romantic about that kiss. No, it was just rough, brutal and messy, reflecting all the despair they contained deep inside. It was a kiss full of passion, but not the kind that made you feel light and gave you butterflies in your stomach. Not at all, it was a toxic passion that burnt the wings off these butterflies and everything around them.

Sebastian was clutching you by the shoulders as if you were his lifeline, the only thing keeping him from tipping completely over into the darkness. And you, you kissed him back fervently, fighting the little voice in your head that was whispering to you that what you were doing was wrong, that you never should have discovered how salty his tears tasted as you kissed him for the first time.

You had to call a spade a spade, you should not be taking advantage of his vulnerability to get what you had always dreamt of... but you could not help yourself. Sebastian was hypnotic, and you could not bring yourself to pull away from him.

It was he who retreated first, and you instantly hated how his big chocolate eyes were filled with nothing but sheer panic, “I feel like I’m going to die without you… What if I die without you?”

Your heart pounded so hard to the point where it felt like you had a lump in your throat. You let out an overwhelmed and broken sob, “You’ll never find out because I’ll never leave you. You hear me? Never. I’m here for better or for worse.”

I will love you either way…

Sebastian let himself fall against your chest, and you welcomed him into your arms without the slightest hint of reluctance. You let him rest there, let him cry, tremble against you, while you caressed his untameable hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear, doing your best to stop your own tears from flowing. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, but it felt like an eternity. You were probably freezing and soaking wet from sitting in the snow for so long, but thankfully you were unable to feel it thanks to the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Shh… It'll be okay…”

It might be so sweet… It might be so bitter…

In the months you had known Sebastian, you had imagined an infinity of different scenarios of the two of you kissing for the first time. None of those fit with the reality of Sebastian breaking down in your arms after committing murder. The situation had nothing in common with what you had wished for the two of you. You had finally got what you wanted, but you hated it. You just wanted to scream. Fate was even more cruel than you believed.

"Make the pain go away, please." Sebastian begged desperately, echoing your own inner thoughts.

"I'll do everything I can. I’ll do everything to give you the future you wanted." You cried uncontrollably.

Oh, if the future we've dreamed of is fading to black…

Minutes, hours passed, and your tears eventually dried. You spoke again, very quietly, as if afraid to frighten the peace that was slowly beginning to return, “We’ll get through this together, alright?”

“…I’m a monster.” He declared with resignation. He too had run out of tears to cry.

“You’re not.” You replied with just as much conviction.

“What if I get even worse? What if I end up hurting you?” He asked quietly.

“I will love you either way.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow angst #hogwarts legacy fanfic #fanfic

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journalsofanaesthete · 2 months

Text

The voices in my head aren't poetic anymore. they don't recite me poems on loneliness or anxiety while I lie on the floor staring at the ceiling thinking about the sins I own.

The voices in my head aren't my enemies anymore. They have become my friends. And for them I ignore the whole world, shutting the door from percluding anyone to meet the friends I admire and adore.

The voices in my head don't speak anymore they just scream, scream at the highest possible pitch they could. They are as loud as the waves of the ocean no matter how much far I stand from the shore but I can still hear the noise they make.

The voices in my head are killing me yet I don't feel any pain because all the emotions, all the human emotions are very long gone. All that resides here is silence, numbness and emptiness.

The voices in my head aren't anyone else but me, I'm the voices in my head. Standing midst of a graveyard infront of the corpse that's been burned to ashes, ashes consisting of parts of me and my shattered dreams. ~ dishaa

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eliashirsch · 8 days

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God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (3/3)

Part three of my fanfic recommendation! This one's for the best fics!

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!

Best of the Best Fics

Fics that shine bright as the stars. Make sure to check the author’s other works too!

ICEMAV

Kings of the Air by FabulaRasa @fabula-unica

Fighting and fucking: two things he did extraordinarily well. How could he have known what the effect would be when you combined the two?

This and COMPACFLT’s work directly inspired one of my works:) The writing quality is absolutely amazing. My favorite fics are those that have Ice returning to Top Gun and joining Mav as an instructor and this one just takes the whole motherfucking crown.

Indian Ocean. Present Day. by Jay Tryfanstone (tryfanstone)

Isolated on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Indian Ocean, cut off from any source of information about the global political and environmental disaster which has engulfed the planet, Maverick and Goose struggle to make sense of an increasingly claustrophobic command structure and failing resources on board. When a refugee helicopter is spotted approaching the carrier, its pilot could be the catalyst for an explosive re-evaluation....

This fic man. This fic. It made me fall in love with post-apocalyptic fics. The writing style, the plot, Ice and Mav and Goose. Goose, man… Oh my god. If you read this fic you know why I’m still thinking about these boys’ fates.

Rhinestone Cowboy by omnidirectional

That’s Doctor Iceman to you! Maverick bangs himself up and gets rescued by someone he didn’t expect. A Missing Scene featuring contrived situations, questionable life choices, gratuitous product placement, and shirtlessness. You know, everything you love about canon.

And it is absolutely everything I love about canon! I always love missing scenes or canon divergent. Not to say that I don’t enjoy AUs, but I love vibes like this the most where the story works alongside canon and elevates it to a whole other level. Mav and Ice and Slider feels correct.

Sleepless Nights by demiclar @demiclar / @slidersimp

Five times Maverick wakes himself up with nightmares and one time he's woken by someone else.

Fics about Mav’s grief over Goose’s death will always wreck me. This one in particular shows itself as a physical manifestation. I love love love all the guys stepping up and taking care of Mav, never once judging his pain. I’m a sucker for portrayals of the ugly side of grief.

Mal de Mer by saurora_borealis

"I thought you said you didn't get seasick, you little liar," Slider snaps. Maverick doesn't answer, head bowed, but Ice can see him shaking from here. Of all the times for Maverick to be sick, did it have to be on a night that Ice is ill too? Or: the carrier experiences some ocean turbulence. Even the most seasoned aviators fall prey to it.

This one has sort of the same vibe as the fic above. I never get tired of seeing the flyboys take care of each other<3

be my soulmate (and i'll be yours) by ChexMix

Of course Maverick dreams about finding his soulmate. Who doesn't? But he'd never imagined the possibility that it could be the Iceman. So when he catches sight of Ice's soulmark, it suddenly becomes all he can think about.

Classic Icemav soulmate AU. This is like exactly my type of angst and happy ending. Sometimes the things you’re familiar with are still the best:)

To Build a Home by LadyLanera @k9effect

Eighteen years before Top Gun Maverick, there was a home being built from ashes and ruin. When the dust finally settled and dusk fell, the house of cards collapsed, shattering three lives forever. Is it possible to rebuild, reclaiming the past in the future...when they're all hurtling towards their worst nightmare?

Goddddd. I love Mav’s character flaw in this. I love Ice’s maturity born from grief and sickness. I love Bradley’s anger and abandonment issues. I love that these three have hurt each other more than anyone ever could, but their love is still starkly present. My thoughts when I was reading this was that LadyLanera wrote their flaws so beautifully, making them human, and by doing so I understood their motivations and their actions. Amazing characterization.

all is fair (in love and war) by dulcetines (evecstasy)

oh, ice, maverick bisa merasakan hati kecilnya meringis, ice, sori banget— hollywood menyelak lagi, kali ini dengan suara impersonasi terbaiknya: “teruntuk kuncen TOPGUN, yang mana di sana kuyakin matahari belum juga terbit sebersamaan dengan ditulisnya surat ini. aku ingin saat ini juga kau bersyukur tidak mesti mendengarkan slider ngorok di sampingmu. tuhan jesus. pria ini sudah kuanggap saudara sendiri, tapi terkadang ada saja hal-hal yang dilakukannya yang membuatku ingin menggulingkannya ke laut. kau apa kabar di sana? sudah berapa pilot yang kauhabisi egonya? apapun itu. jangan mati kebosanan dulu. aku bisa bilang begini karena surat-suratmu selalu mengancam demikian. ingat kau masih hutang makan malam denganku. dan sepuluh dolar. sampaikan salamku ke bayi itik. bilang aku kangen padanya. dan,” hollywood memalsukan dehem, sambil ia melanjutkan, “padamu juga. setiap detikku. ice.” begitulah.

Hehehehehe. Now this is more for me LMAO because as you can see, it’s written in Indonesian. Finding this fic in my mother language is like finding GOLD. Again, I love love love Icemav in their Top Gun era. This is for all of you Indonesian Top Gun enthusiast *blows a kiss*

a higher fidelity by basedchamp

“C’mon.” Tori nudges him with an elbow. “C’mon. He’s cute. You can admit that one thing but you can’t admit this?” Gritting his teeth, Ice thinks very carefully about his next words. “He’s…” he trails off. “Some would say that…Mitchell is not. Unpleasant. To look at.” (Alternatively: the one where Ice and Mav learn to park bad, eat good, and love even better.)

Ice’s family, man… It’s refreshing to see them so supportive and loving. I’m guilty of making Ice’s backstory so tragic>:) But this one is heartwarming! I love the style and flow of the writing. It’s something that I want to achieve in my own writing as well, so kudos to basedchamp!

Tunnel Vision by brainjuicey (anzietyfreak) @brainjuicey

Instead of Ice biting the air in the locker room, he antagonises Mav by biting his neck, unknowingly setting off dormant Omega genes and sending him into heat. Everyone involved is forced to remain secure on base until they’ve investigated. AKA. Five Alphas, a Beta, and an Omega in heat, walk into an Air Base prison. Ramifications ensue. Alternative title, "Locked in Sex Jail With The Boys"

This scratched that specific part in my brain, man. ABO with the original cast of Top Gun? Sign me up, baby. Steamy and perfect.

The Five People You Can't Escape in Heaven by V_Evergreen

Maverick dies, but it doesn't end there. Alternately: [“Hey, kiddo, are you with me?” Maverick opened his eyes and found that he could see. He blinked in the sudden light as his surroundings came into focus. Quite literally came into focus, as though everything around him was resolving into itself as he looked, deciding to form a lawn, flowerbeds, the tree trunk that he had been leant against. The sun was blinding overhead, high noon. In the distance, hazy and indistinct, he could make out a house. It looked vague, like a half formed memory but it was familiar. Just like the man crouched in front of him. “Dad?” He croaked.]

I was reading the original book (The Five People You Meet in Heaven) and came across this fic. Which in turn made me want to write my own rendition from the same idea. That last chapter, man. It’s unreal how creative it is. A punch to the gut for sure.

(Here’s my fic if you want to read about it :) >> Estrellita)

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother by V_Evergreen

Five meetings between Thomas Kazansky and Ethan Hunt. Alternately: [Ethan heard the door click shut behind him and turned to ask after the papers when he was abruptly spun by a hand on his shoulder and pushed against the door. His first and immediate thought was that he was certainly being attacked. Kazansky had him pressed against the door, chest to chest, a hand around his wrist and then- oh. Oh no. He wasn’t being attacked at all, it was infinitely worse. He was being very thoroughly kissed. He pushed back against Kazansky’s chest and tried to think of something eloquent to say. “Um?”]

Another banger by V_Evergreen. Ice not knowing Mav has a twin and mistakenly kissing him is so funny. And the end is heartwarming as well. Love love love it.

Allies by Shearmouth

After getting shot down over a war-torn Iraq, Maverick makes some unlikely friends. They have something– a big something– in common. But all Mav really wants is Ice. Too bad he's half a world away, and even Mav can't run that on a shattered leg. Not with the infected chest wounds thrown in, at least.

Oh my goddddd. I keep being at a loss for words when describing these fics. It won’t do anyone good if all I wrote was goddd, oh mannn, it’s so goodddd. But it’s the truth. This one hits home so much. The risk and homophobia present when you’re in a place that punishes queer people for existing and being in love, how a single mistake will cost you your future. And it’s so heartwarming to see that even then, you’re not alone. Mav being helped to reunite with Ice and breaking down that since their relationship was private, Ice had to grief Mav alone. Man, oh man.

There is a pain—so utter by CurSirrr

Pete Mitchell was fine. Completely fine. He didn’t feel dizzy with denial, or an utter trainwreck of hopelessness. He hadn’t shed a single tear or cried himself to sleep for the past week. His guts were twisting and turning, squeezing and cramping. His eyes were swollen and red, and his scalp hurt from his vicious hair tugs as he tried to understand the past week. OR Three times Bradley misses the chance to say goodbye before it is too late.

Just read the summary and prepare for a world of pain:) Ice’s canon death still haunts me. Good thing he’s sleeping away in his big house that he co-owns with Mav, regularly saves his husband’s ass, have barbeque Sunday with Bradley and Jake and the dagger squad, happy and healthy:))

keeping his cards close to his chest by Serie11 @oathkeeperoxas

It's not that Lucy wishes that her boss would be more open with her. It's that she quite literally knows nothing about the man, despite Admiral Kazansky being her CO for half a decade. Or: 5 times Ice successfully hid something from his staff, and 1 time Ice revealed his biggest secret

Love seeing Icemav seen through other people’s perspective. It adds so much to the universe. Ice and Mav being their usual old married couple while everyone around them suffers. Excellent.

'til I meet you there by adiduck (book_people) @adiduck

Maverick wakes up in the snow, helmet on, entire body aching intensely and parachute still attached. It takes him about half an hour of trekking through the snow to notice that there’s anything amiss. (Or: Maverick Mitchell is in the habit of talking to his ghosts. Usually, they don’t talk back.)

Mav’s journey through the underworld. This fic is just too creative😭Always a delight to see how loved Mav is. It’s so whimsical and confusing and so great.

the ships have come to carry you home by indigofudge

“Here it is,” Carole says, bringing Mav’s wheelchair to a stop. Mav’s mouth is dry. He aches for another cup of water. “Carole, tell me something, and don’t lie to me.” “Anything, Maverick.” “How bad does he look?” Carole is quiet for a while. Then she comes around and kneels in front of Mav, taking both of his hands in her own. Her eyes swim with tears. “If I didn’t know any better,” she says, voice breaking, “I’d think he was dead.” • Or, Goose is alive when they hit the water. That's enough.

Goose survives AU!!!! Huh? This isn’t canon? What are you talking about? Of course, Goose survives and the Bradshaw family is still whole and Mav still has his family and gets to have Ice too. What are you talking about??

Swallow by wildglitterwolf

Ice is getting tired of Maverick's inability to be a team player. Maverick is annoyed by Ice's gum chewing. Ice is more than happy to get rid of it, he just needs a place to put it...

TT.TT Just… I didn’t know I like this dynamic so much…

HANGSTER

cruise control by res_judicata

Rooster’s plane goes down on a Tuesday. Jake remembers that it’s a Tuesday because he had been out grabbing a quick bite for lunch with Javy and the little chalkboard on the wall of the cafe had proclaimed that Tuesday’s special was linguine in white wine with fresh mussels. (Jake deals with grief and love)

Made me cry a goddamn river. I’ve said this before, but Hangster is one of those ships that I had trouble getting into. When I first got into the fandom back in June 2022, I strictly read Icemav, never dipping my toes into Hangster’s relationship because I never felt the spark. But as time goes by I’m starting to warm up and have read more and more. This fic is one of those where it captured my attention instantly. I knew it was going to be angsty, but still holding out hope for a happy ending (just like Jake in this story). The grief that blanketed the whole writing only made the resolution more beautiful.

WHORES IN MY BED. by pornogirl

“Jake-” Bradley’s eyes have a wet glimmer to them, the kind of wet that looks like the beginnings of tears and Jake wants to kiss him so badly. “Jake, is it loaded?” Jake rolls his eyes at the question. “Open your fucking mouth.” (Author’s notes: it's really not as bad as the tags may suggest but like. read the fucking tags!)

I’m a freak and I’m not ashamed of it:) Basically, Jake's going on about how pretty Bradley is crying and scared. If this is your kink, definitely worth the read. I don’t know if it’s because I find it hot, but I don’t get the unsafe feeling as opposed to reading other works that have noncon elements. I don’t know it feels more like it’s both of their kinks or like something they’ve discussed before but Jake didn’t warn Bradley prior. Like CNC, I guess? Anyway it’s really hot and I have not looked at my retainers the same way;)

we're fools to make war by whimsicule @baroness-elsa

In a Walmart at three am, between beef jerky and tortilla chips, with the lights flickering above them like it’s the fucking twilight zone, Bradley wants him more than he’s ever wanted anyone. or: it's a hundred degrees in texas.

This is so Jake and Bradley I’m blown away by how right they feel. Seriously. I didn’t even notice this was 66k words. The vibes, the writing, Jake’s family. Oh hell. Definitely check out the author’s other works too! They’ve got a lot of other Hangster long fics:)

cinnamon and sugar by bottledyarn

Jake was slumped in the doorway, propped up against the wall beside the door. He was a strange, pale, near-gray against the dark backdrop of his apartment, and he looked—well… “You look like shit," Bradley said. – Bradley draws the short straw and has to take care of Jake when he's sick with a stomach flu. Jake doesn't want to be taken care of.

Sigh. Jake and Bradley, man. They’re the ship that you can shove as much angst as you want and it’ll fit right in with their dynamic. They’re just so stubborn!!!! The push and pull between them is magnetic, man. I think I get why people love them.

habits by rararatatouille

Jake and Bradley come together in a series of jagged stops and starts. They fall apart in the exact same way. In which habits are hard to break, even for the people we love most.

Mannnnn. Goddamnit. I think this fic converted me to like Hangster. I think this has become canon in my brain too. I can’t even. Just read it. Words aren’t enough to describe this fic.

Days Like This by chase_acow @cowsalot

Jake's in Hawaii to lose himself after getting the Navy's first air-to-air kill in decades. Instead he finds a ramshackle diner, a cast of odd characters, and possibly the love of his life. Bradley goes to the Hard Deck to order waffles. He orders waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck to get some waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck, and who is this hot asshole acting like they know each other?

So good. A 50 First Dates AU. Jake just loves Bradley so much, man. And Bradley finally showing up in the end. Love really will make you walk miles across Earth for your special person<3

OTHERS

Other pairings, romantic and not.

Mr. Blue Sky by omnidirectional

Tragedy first brings Iceman into Bradley’s life, but he quickly becomes the steadiest presence of the boy’s childhood… until a betrayal tears their small family apart. After years of silence, can Bradley find the words to make up for lost time? Five times Ice sings to Bradley, and the one time Bradley sings to Ice.

Another one from omnidirectional. Ice and Bradley’s father and son relationship… Here’s one of the tags: Who Wants To Cry Today? If you’re up for emotional damage, click the link🫵

On Mighty Wings by PurpleArrowzandLeather @purplearrowzandleather-blog

Maverick raised geese over the years while Bradley was gone. Bradley does not know this until the flock comes home for the summer.

Short and sweet. Legend author as well. Love the geese preening Mav and Bradley sobbing while surrounded by honks. This is just too damn cute!!

Neglected by proprioception @mnstrfkr

"Do I look God-fearing to you, ma'am?" Maverick asked with a grin. "You most certainly do not," Carole said. "That's why I didn't marry you." "That and the mustache," Goose added.

Can’t forget about this GooseMavCarole fic of course! Hot and heartwarming. Absolutely amazing smut. This one sparked my brain to make a fanart of my favorite polycule. Their dynamic is just so fun!

Yearling by Fopperies , pohjanneito @pilvimarja

Alone in a cabin in the snowy mountains, Maverick is supposed to help Bradley on the path to presenting as an alpha soon. Bradley's body has other ideas.

Just gonna put this here… A different take on ABO’s biology, which I absolutely love. It’s so hot… Bradley, I feel you, honey…

Seeing a Trailer by daenabenjen42

In the aftermath of the Layton rescue, Merlin has questions.

Sighs for the millionth time. It’s so good. Again, I love the portrayal of Mav’s PTSD and grief here. And it’s not just him, but daenabenjen42 wrote about the other boys’ trauma too. I love it so much I must’ve reread this one about fifty million times.

in between what's already done by crawsley

“We aren’t doing this,” Maverick says, firmly, and he’s tensing like he’s about to move, about to shove Rooster off of him, push him away like he pushed him away before, when all Rooster had wanted was some guidance, some help, some love and kindness and— Rooster bears him to the ground, right there on the rug in the entryway.

This is legitimately one of the first, if not the first fic I’ve read from RoosMav. I still remember clearly going home from watching TG:M in the cinema and KNOWING that there were definitely going to be people who ship Mav and Roo. I rushed to AO3 straight away:D Imagine my delight when finding this one!

shake my nerves and rattle my brain by BogBeast

This wasn’t supposed to be intimate. This was about punishment, humiliation, stubbornness and spite. Not this gentle crap that made him sigh, the hand in his hair making his stomach swoop with every tug, the heavy scent making his head feel foggy, the praises making his heart skip a beat. That shit is just weird. The horrifying realization that he’s hard in his flight suit has nothing to do with it. - Mav's gotten them into a lot of weird situations, but giving blowjobs to their rivals because of a stupid bet has to be the weirdest one.

Icemav AND Sloose? SIGN ME UP, BABY!

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That’s all of it! This is my list for now. Thank you all for reading through to the end! Let me know if you enjoyed any of these fics so we can gush about them together:) I hope you enjoyed my yapping:}

My works have always and will continue to take inspiration from others. So thank you for creating stories as beautiful and profound as these, dear beloved authors<3

If you want to see my bookmark collection of all of these fics, click here >> TOPGUN (Best of the Best) While you’re there, how about you read some of my fics too?>:) EliasHirsch

(PS!!! There will be a 4th part because there are definitely more good fics that people need to know about:))

#tag the authors if you know their tumblr!#and tell me if i wrongly tagged the wrong person or input the wrong link:')#icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x maverick #top gun #top gun maverick #hangster #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fic recs #fanfic rec #fanfiction rec list #fanfiction recommendation

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sculptorofcrimson · 2 months

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Tyrant’s Lullaby

Once upon a time, there was a glorious, terrible man. He built horrors. He built wonders. He brought monsters up from the deep. He took a child from the arms of a horrified, weeping family, and raised him not as a boy but as a general. He took a child and ruined his future, He took a child and made him a king, a pet, a dog. He marched armies over the face of the ravaged earth, and trampled all that did not kneel before the weight of the storm. He burned tundras to ash and shook the mountains until they crumbled, He boiled the seas to mist and the skies to charcoal. And when the scouring was done, and the earth was entombed in ashes, He turned His dreaming, endless glare upon His own.

He strangled the thunder that had bore Him a throne, He sent the golden, the children stolen from their cradles, to plunge down long knives into turned backs raised so fervently before His regard. With their blood they had built Him a kingdom, and with their bones He crowned Himself a throne. And when Terra knelt, cowed, battered, in awe and in fear, He turned His gaze skywards.

And the stars felt His benevolent wrath.

He bore twenty sons, two of them sacrificed, and He unleashed them upon the earth, the skies, the stars. They hunted for Him, they loved Him, they adored Him, yet some had strayed too far from His light, some had gazed upon the man that would be a god with sullen, hungry eyes, doing His bidding, and knowing His wrath. They are those who were there when affection curdled to treachery.

There was no peace among the stars, no mercy, no rest, simply a slow, heartless drowning as the gold claimed them limb by limb, inch by inch, and swallowed them into the endless light.

And then war. Treachery, when the stars themselves were swallowed. When brother turned against brother, and father against son. When the Phoenix cleaved the Gorgon’s head from his shoulders, and the Immortal bashed in the Haunter with a hammer, when the Angel fell to the Traitor and He stained the Palace’s stones red with His son’s blood. When Horus burned, when the Angel shed his wings and the golden were shattered upon the anvil of betrayal, the Father fell to His son.

He was buried upon a rotting throne, screaming hollowly into the fading dark, the stars basking in His rage, His pity and His wrath. He was buried alive in a tomb made from gold, ashen bones ruling a decaying kingdom from the grave, dreaming forever of brighter days. Dreaming of His sons, and how He betrayed them first, how they betrayed Him, how they abandoned His bones. And finally could the golden rest, bathed in the heart of their greatest shame, enshrining the decaying dust of a master they had failed, in an empire He had forsaken.

That man was the Emperor. That corpse is the Emperor, golden, glorious, and decaying just like the slaves.

Do not think your bones different from a slave's. When you rot, your corpse will be indistinguishable from those of your servants.

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st-el-la-luna · 2 months

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I Was Kidding Part One: The Set-Up (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader)

NSFW 18+

Gaz wakes up hungover with little memory of the night before. Luckily, you, his friend, are there to help him piece it together ➔ alcohol consumption, drunkeness, hangovers, jealousy, accidental confessions, making out, mentions of wet dreams

3.7k words

part one part two

Gaz lets out a low groan, his voice but a growl, the vestiges of sleep still lingering in his tone. He rolls over in his bed and pulls the warm sheets up to his chin, nuzzling deeper into his pillow. He feels comfortable. Safe.

A noise somewhere in the distance has him groaning again. He shifts his position, burrowing further into the bundle of plush blankets. He raises his hand to rub at his eyes without opening them, As he does, he feels something that confuses him. Soft yet ticklish. His brows furrow and he tries to bat the offending texture away. Something about it is familiar. But he has no idea why. He especially doesn’t know what it's doing in his bed.

His eyes are as heavy as lead as he blinks them open. Gaz hisses, eyes narrowed in a squinting, vengeful glare at the window. Like if he glared hard enough, it would shatter and break. Golden light streams in, bathing the room in a warm glow. He drops his head back against the pillow and slings an arm over his eyes.

He feels like his skull was being split in two.

"You're awake,"

Kyle nearly jumps from his skin at the sudden voice. He turns to the source and frowns, head cocked to the side in confusion. Is he seeing things? He has to be. There’s no way…

He blinks. He rubs his eyes. He blinks again.

Nope. Still there.

This is real.

He grumbles your name, brows furrowed in confusion, the tip of his nose scrunching up in his bewilderment. "What are you doing here?"

“In my flat?” you ask, your eyes sparkling with that teasing light he’s come to love. “Gee, I wonder.”

“Your flat?” Gaz echoes, brows furrowing. He glances around the room.

The walls are the right colour, the same drab beige as pretty much every flat in London, somewhere between sandpaper and ash. The posters and pictures that decorated the walls are familiar. At least, he thinks. His vision is still blurry. The big tell that this isn’t his room is the window had curtains. Kyle hasn’t had curtains since he accidentally set his on fire in November. His eyesight clears slightly, and he notices other things that don't add up. A shelf full of books. The plants that clutter the windowsill. The desk, not piled up with empty cans and bottles, loose bullets and dull knives. He looks down to the source of the strange texture from earlier and pulls up a small plush. That weird Webkinz that he always thought was a platypus but was apparently something called a ‘Googles’. He lets it drop onto the mattress beside him.

He is, in fact, not in his own room. He blinks dumbly. “Oh.”

You smile softly, handing him some aspirin and a glass of water. He has barely taken the glass from your hand when you’ve fished a little container of MIO from your pocket. You add two drops to the cup and watch him expectantly.

For a moment all he can do is stare back, his heart fluttering in his chest.

That's one thing that he loves about you. The little things you do for people that could be so easily overlooked. But Gaz never overlooked them. In fact, to him, those small acts meant the world. They're what made him fall for you in the first place.

Sure, a lot of people know he isn’t fond of water. He finds it plain. But most would simply hand him a glass and expect him to deal with it. Even Soap, who has known him for so long, doesn’t go out of his way to accommodate Gaz's tastes.

Gaz takes a small sip, wetting his lips which he’s only now realizing are dry. Strawberry Watermelon. His favourite. He finds himself wondering if you bought it just for him.

He takes the pills all at once, downing the rest of the glass in one go. He wipes at his lips with his wrist, staring down at the cup with a dopey grin.

He feels his heart swell, and he opens his mouth to speak only to snap it shut immediately after. He was so close to slipping, so close to saying those three words that would ruin everything.

Three words. It's crazy how three little words could mean so much. Then again, Gaz doubts that all the languages in the world combined have enough words to describe how he feels about you.

You are everything to him.

More important than his job, his team, his family or even the air that he breathes. He would do anything you asked him to without hesitation. It’s almost concerning. He'd probably thinkso if he wasn't so infatuated with you. But he is infatuated with you, truly head over heels, which is why he can never let those three words slip.

Three words. Three words that he has whispered to himself over and over in the dead of night as images of what could be but never would flash before his eyes. A mirage of you lying next to him, nose to nose, giggling at one of his jokes that he knew wasn’t funny. The memory of your touch, the fantasy of your fingers touching places they’ve never touched before. As you smiled up at him through your lashes and he couldn’t help the confession. A breathless whisper.

As soon as it escaped him, the illusion would shatter, as it did every night.

Three words that could change everything. Three words that could take years of friendship and hopeless pining and flush them down the drain. Three simple, stupid, horrible, gut-churning, heart-stopping, life-ending, amazing words.

I love you.

"Do want me to close the drapes?" you ask, taking his low groan as a ‘yes’. you walk over to the large window and pull the heavy curtains shut, filling the room with shadows.

"Better?" you ask, sitting delicately at the foot of the bed.

He grunts, nodding his head, a frown tugging at his lips. "What... What happened last night?"

You smile softly. "How much do you remember?"

Gaz furrows his brows.

Last night? Gaz could remember the mission, the last before break. The Task Force had succeede of course, thanks in large part to him.

Gaz could remember ignoring the officers and personnel after the aircraft touched down on the tarmac. He could remember going through the motions of nodding and thanking and passively agreeing. He could remember when finally, finally, he was able to break away and rush to where you were waiting at the edge of the landing strip.

You were bounding up and down in excitement, hands clasped before your chest. you were shouting, but he couldn’t make out what, the roaring of jet engines successfully drowning your words out. you had shouldered your way through the crowd to access the tarmac, colliding with him in a warm hug. He’d picked you up of the ground, and swung you around, treasuring the moment.

“Way to go!” You'd told him, grinning so wide Gaz had worried it may have hurt. “You did so well!”

He remembered not wanting to let you go, to leave you. But he had to get out of his sweaty clothes. So, with hesitation, he pulled away, and, grabbing one last quick hug, ran off after the rest of the team.

Gaz could remember arriving at the bar with the Task Force to celebrate their win. He could remember when you had arrived with your friends from the Intelligence Department not even ten minutes later. He remembered the way you had looked in your dress. Just thinking back on the memory of it makes Gaz's knees weak, and his chest hurt from yearning. Heat floods his body, the tips of his ears flushing at the memory.

He blinks and swallows, trying to ignore the molten arousal that’s starting to build.

He could remember mingling with people, accepting congratulations and toasts with a smile, you at his side. He remembered the burning jealousy that coursed through his veins when Johnny fucking MacTavish arrived. When you left Gaz's side for Soap... Soap, of all people! Gaz could remember the way his hands had clenched into fists, knuckles white, nails digging into his palms so hard they drew blood, as the Scottsman picked up your hand and pressed his lips against it in a playful greeting.

He remembered glaring at Soap from across the room as he laughed and flirted with you. He remembered the pang in his heart as he'd seen your blush, giggling softly as you placed a hand on Soap’s. He remembered the burning anger intensifying as, after noticing your shivering from the cold, Soap pulled off his hoodie and draped it over your shoulders.

Gaz could barely stand the sight.

You looked great in it. Of course you did. you would look good in anything or nothing. He just couldn’t fathom that the jacket wasn’t his. Oh, how wonderful you'd look. For a moment he pictured it was his sweater you were wearing. The colour of it suited you perfectly, looking absolutely adorable with your hands curled at the end of the sleeves in little sweater paws.

The illusion had broken when you’d turned, and he saw Soap’s name where his should have been.

Gaz can remember downing the rest of his bottle and immediately going to get another. He had hoped to drown out the burning jealousy with the burning of whisky. One shot. Then two. Then three. Then he'd moved on to rum. Then vodka. Then tequila. Then... nothing. He was drawing a blank.

"How did I get here?" he asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

"Well, after what must've been your twentieth round of drinks, you were really out of it," you begin to tell the story, the soft smile gracing your lips a stark contrast to the emotions that are swirling in your eyes. Confusion. Concern. Guilt. Did you think this was your fault? He hopes you don't think this is your fault. "You then proceeded to stumble your way over to Soap and me."

Gaz can’t help the low growl that rumbles from deep within his chest at the mere mention of Johnny’s name. Jealousy and rage course through his veins like lightning, something primal stirring within him. You shoot him a look but don't press.

“One second, he and I are dancing, the next you have him up against the wall, shouting until you’re breathless. You threw him down and started to, like, choke him out. By the time Price was able to separate you you’d chipped one of his teeth, busted his lip and his nose.”

"Okay," Gaz nods. He can vaguely remember that. Not his best moment. Soap would never let him forget it. “But how did I get here?"

"I'm getting there," you tell him with a roll of your eyes. "You were obviously wasted so I told you I’d be taking you home. You refused, told me that you were going to get your dick wet and that I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

Gaz buries his face in his hands. “God I’m sorry.”

You don’t acknowledge his apology, simply continuing with your tale. “You stumbled around the party for another half hour after that, downing whatever you could get your hands on. I tried a number of times to get you to leave but you kept telling me ‘the night is young, baby!’ Then you threw up on Ghost’s dog and the bartender cut you off... I tried to say goodbye to everyone before leaving with you, but anytime I got close to someone, you would snarl at them and try to start a fight,"

He grabs his head between his hands. He could remember that. God, how stupid had he been?

"So eventually, I gave up and told Kate to do it for me, and I started to take you home," you smile softly and reach out to run a hand over his hair in an attempt to comfort him. Gaz hates how well it works; he melts into your touch immediately. "But you denied it and said that the only way I could get you to leave would be if I took you home with me," You gesture around the room, "and so here we are,"

"Oh God, you... I'm so sorry," he says, regret pooling in his eyes as equal parts guilt and shame bubble up in his stomach.

"Don't worry about it," you wave him off. "Parties aren't really my scene anyways. You should really be apologizing to Ghost and Riley. They’re the real victims here."

"I didn't..." he trails off for a moment, unsure of how he wants to word his next question. "I didn't say or do anything stupid to you, did I?"

"Well, I guess there's one thing..." you hum, tapping your chin with your index finger.

His eyes widen in panic, and he’s overcome with dread. "What? What did I do?"

"You professed your undying love to me, and we preceded to have hot, carnal sex until the wee hours of the morning,"

Kyle, far too hungover and caught up in a mess of his own anxieties to notice your teasing tone nor the mischievous glint in your eyes, pales. "Oh my God... I'm so sorry... Believe me; this isn't how I wanted this to go. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out in such a way. I-I... I love you so much, and I... God, I'm so fucking stupid."

When he looks up to meet your gaze, he can tell you’re surprised by his admission. Eyebrows raised, eyes wide, mouth dropped open to form a small ‘o’.

His lip trembles. "W-what?"

"I was kidding," you say.

"Oh," Gaz mutters, his voice wavering. "So we didn't...?"

"No," you shake your head, answering the unspoken question. "You passed out the second we got through the door. I had to practically drag you into bed."

He swallows hard, unable to meet your gaze.

"So..." You started hesitantly. "You love me, huh?"

He nods, not trusting himself to speak.

You nod in response, pursing your lips. "Alright."

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this," He says, his voice cracking with overwhelming emotions. "I wasn't going to tell you at all. I don't want to ruin our friendship..."

Gaz hiccupps, furiously rubbing away his tears with the back of his hand. "I just can't help it! I've tried to stop liking you, I've tried so hard! But you're so smart and kind. You're an amazing cook, and you're insanely fucking funny, it's unreal. Not to mention beautiful, God, you're so fucking beautiful it's not even fair! It's like every time I see you is the first time. Like the air is being torn from my lungs, and I'm being picked apart and put back together over and over again, and I love it. I love you so much, and I think I always have."

He lets out a noise that lies somewhere between a laugh and a sob, gripping his head so hard that you wince just seeing him do it. But he doesn’t feel it. He can’t even feel the ache in his head anymore. All he can feel is the sinking in his gut and the pain in his heart. "I know that you don't feel the same way, and I know that you hate me now. And I'm just... I'm sorry, I’m so sorry."

Gaz feels the bed shift as you move to sit beside him. He turns his head away and tries to shrink in on himself, to make himself as small as possible in the hopes that he might disappear completely.

You take his chin gently in your hand and turned his head so that you’re both facing each other. Gaz wishes that he could hide from the soft look in your eyes. He knows what’s coming. He hated this part.

Kyle feels like throwing up, and not because of his hangover. He can only wish that you will let him down gently. His heart wouldn’t be able to take much more than that. It’s already splintering, sending painful shards all throughout his chest. He doubts it would ever be whole again.

And yet, despite everything, Gaz finds himself melting into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut on instinct. You've always had this effect on him, and he knows that you always will.

"I don't hate you, Kyle" Your voice is gentle and calm.

He blinks up at you through his tears. "You don't?"

"No," you shake your head, offering him a soft smile. "In fact..."

You lean in close, tilting your head to the side. Gaz's heart stops working, and his breath catches in his throat.

He doesn’t even register that you’re kissing him until a moment later. When his lungs kick back in, and he can inhale again. He's always felt giddy when he was with you, but now he feels like he is flying. Gaz, overeager and sloppy, accidentally knocks the tip of his nose into yours, as he returns the kiss feverishly. His heart feels as if it is dropping down a bottomless pit. Like it’s sinking deeper and deeper while his head becomes lighter and lighter.

You kiss him passionately, your hands reaching out to touch and hold. Gaz's hands latch onto your waist as he pulls you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. His fingers tugg at the hem of your shirt, clawing desperately at anything he can reach with trembling, shaky hands. Your hands slide up his sides and neck, stopping a moment to cup his face as you deepen the kiss. Then your hands drift higher, and you dig your fingers into his dark hair, nails dragging across the scalp. Black curls tangled around your fingers, you give his hair a gentle tug and Gaz can't help the whimpering moan that escapes his lips. He pulls you in closer until your bodies are pressed so tightly together that you practically became one.

Gaz's head is a mess. So much so that he can’t keep track of where his hands are supposed to go, or how he is being kissed. So much has happened in so little time. He is completely overwhelmed in the best possible way.

He wants to burn this into his memory forever. The pressure of your soft lips against his, the warmth of your body as you press against him, the weight of you comfortable and perfect on him, the plush of your thighs on his lap. Gaz wants to be able to remember this forever, when he’s scared or alone in the dark of night. When he’s out on a mission, unsure if he’ll ever make it back home. Home to you. Whenever his depression gets so bad he couldn’t think of anything to live for. When the memories of the things he’s done and the things he’s seen become too much. This is something to live for. The only thing.

He prays to whatever spirit there may be out there that this won't be the last time he'll get to touch you like this. That he won’t open his eyes only to find out that it was another cruel, torturous dream. That you won’t pull away from him and laugh.

If this is the last time, if this is a dream, if this is some heinous joke, Gaz doesn't care. He can’t bring himself to. Not when you’re in his lap, lips slotted against his, breath hot and heavy against sweaty, kiss swollen lips. He is going to make the most of this.

He runs his tongue against your lips, and you oblige, parting them slowly. Gaz grins into the kiss as he let his tongue explore your mouth, intertwining it with your own, like he’s trying to tie your tongues together, as he tries to swallow his sounds. He savours the feeling and the taste of you, and he knows that nothing else will ever satisfy him again.

When you let out a moan against his lips, Gaz can’t help but to roll his hips in response. You let out a soft gasp that quickly turns into a groan as he deepens the kiss further. Noses bumping into each other. Teeth clashing. Hands grabbing at anything that they can reach.

Gaz is out of control in the best possible way. Holding you in his arms. Kissing you. Making your his. It is more intoxicating than any alcohol he's ever had in his life. And he’s had a lot.

When you pull back for air, your chest is heaving, and your cheeks are flushed.

Gaz chases after you desperately. He feels like he can’t breathe without you, like without your lips on his, he'll suffocate and die.

You give him a quick kiss, holding it for no more than a second before backing away once more.

He draws in an uneven breath and stares up at you through a daze of wonder and disbelief. Your lips are swollen and red. A string of saliva runs from your mouth to his own, connecting you in the most delicious way. The spit snaps, falling down to him and only then does he realize that his chin is slick with a mixture of your combined spit, dribbling down his neck and soaking into his shirt.

A shiver runs up his spine, sending shock waves through his entire body. He can’t remember ever feeling so good.

"So," Gaz swallows, a deep blush staining his cheeks, flushed with heat of arousal.

"I love you too, dummy," you laugh breathlessly before leaning in and capturing his lips once more.

Gaz grins into the kiss, gripping your waist as you pressed your hips harder against his. He flips you over, pining you beneath him. He pulls back for a moment to admire the sight. He dives back into the kiss with renewed passion, hands sliding down to grab at your ass, taking greedy handfuls of the fat as he moans into your mouth.

Who knew that a drunken night could have turned out so well?

please comment and reblog to support my writing!

Masterlist!

#cod #call of duty #cod mwii #x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz

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digiwoaha · 7 months

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Ash is a very fun character to animate.

sorry about the messy doodles, still learning how to animate.

ash, silver and neon belongs to @itsxroxannex

shattered dream belongs to Galacii-gallery

Used the joker voice from the dark night to voice Ash.

#animatic #sans #undertale

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chucapybara · 17 days

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thinking vv loudly about arlecchino as always—particularly her vision story entry

fire is still able to harm teyvat dwellers, even those with pyro visions. arlecchino's curse, among her two other sources of power, are no different.

perhaps arlecchino burned herself a few times, learning the ways of these strengths bestowed upon her for being of a lineage forgotten, eclipsed, the shade of a hollow, abyssal moon. and of the ink she bears, striking lines and markings along her arms, her hands, the charcoal hue at the tips of them; it's all a part of who she's come to be, making something of the ashes.

at times, in the grace of moonlight, you catch her by the windowsill. she does not take much to sunlight, preferring to stalk in the shadows, but the night was a different story; she allows the glow of it to illuminate her skin, the blackened arms. a reminder of what she has had to sacrifice to be here, to escape her fate, only to be thrust into another one.

her coat lays neatly folded over the back of a chair, and you brush your fingertips along the fabric—the feathered motifs, the sharp silver layers—as you pass. she knows you're here, of course; she senses you always when you've joined her in orbit, two inseparable celestials, sun and moon.

you embrace her from behind, and she does not protest, not so much as a breath of complaint. yours is the only touch she will allow, even when she would never even dream of allowing you an ounce of her burden.

(you hold her tighter, your cheek pressed to her bare shoulder. your lips paint 'ffections over a scar there, a line from a sword cut. her breath stutters. you take some of the weight with you when you withdraw.)

in the glimpse of the moonlight you catch the solemnity of her gaze, sharp, but never at you. in searching do your fingers thread between hers, clasping, thumb brushing the rings she has. her own, and those of the union that bound you together, in cursed sickness and in health, 'til death do you so part.

arlecchino's curse does not recede—it is far too late for that—but it has not grown in the length of time you have loved her, as she has loved you, and you are grateful for it. you bring her hand up to your lips, draping kisses along her knuckles.

she turns her head more, takes in the sight of you, and some of the edge falters from her gaze. arlecchino draws closer, her own lips pressing sweetly against your temple.

"you worry."

"it's my job, isn't it?" you whisper, as your kisses trace down the mark of her arm, to another healed sword cut, to a burn on her forearm. you inch down, almost kneeling, when she beckons you higher and embraces you tight.

"no," she breathes; a refusal, albeit a futile one. she knows you'll worry for her anyway.

it almost surprises you, the way she melts into your form—but you know it is a quiet moment for her, a silent request for your presence. for you to stay, for time to stop, to just give her this. to give her this.

she would never have you kneel for her. teyvat would sooner fall to barren ruins than ever see you on your knees for your husband.

arlecchino burrows into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. it tickles, some. your hands settle by her shoulderblades, by her spine. a warm pulse beats strong by her breast, and you know with due certainty it is the gemstone proof of her defiance against the heavens—her defiance for more days in the shade, more hours with you.

(once, she may have found the feeling of you creeping under her ribcage as intrusive, even abhorrent, but your place in the flesh of her heart sets her free, now.)

she keeps her vision close to her heart, but you will always nestle closer, and such is where you know you'll stay, once the skies begin to fall. cursed or not, she would face the dreadful dawn—to endure it all, the burning flame in her blood, the heavens shattering. to live, in spite of everything.

and you'll witness all of it, right there by her side.

#🌙 chuca drabbles #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #sev this one is lowkey for u #i thought of the scar prompt from her vision entry but then the talk about arle's curse made me sad #so i hope i wove it into this drabble best i could #uuu arle :( i would go with you unto death

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bordysbae · 1 year

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“you’re on your own, kid.”

quinn hughes x f!reader

honestly i feel like this kinda makes no sense but oh well

—

‘summer went away, still the yearning stays. i play it cool with the best of them. i wait patiently, he’s gonna notice me. it’s okay we’re the best if friends, anyway.’

“congratulations on graduating kiddo,” jack smiles down at you as he places your graduation cap on his head. you give him an annoyed look, before luke comes running over to you and engulfs you in the biggest hug you’ve ever felt. your feet lift off of the ground and as luke spins you around, you see quinn giving you a small smile from afar. only you and quinn know what happened during winter break at the lake house, but you know the feelings are still there. as you walk over to him, quinn gets entrapped in a conversation with ellen and some of her friends. you let out a sigh as he begins walking towards his car, but you know you’ll see him the next day at you and luke’s shared graduation party.

a few of quinn’s teammates came back home with him for a little, so most of quinn’s night was spent with his friends instead of paying attention to the real focus. your graduation. “hey where’d quinn go?” you ask jack, the middle hughes boy who’s practically a brother to you.

“he went with some friends to the bar, i don’t think he’s drinking though,” jack shrugs, before rejoining the conversation he was once in.

‘i hear it in your voice, you’re smoking with your boys. i touch my phone as if it’s your face.’

as it reaches later into the night, the party slowly dies down and quinn is yet to return to his childhood home. you make the five minute walk down the street to your house, continuously checking for any notification from quinn. as you finally settle down in bed, your phone begins ringing. you roll over and see quinn’s contact photo fill the screen.

your lips lift up slightly and you slide to accept the call. loud music can be heard but it’s muffled, so he must be outside. “hello?” you croak.

“y/n, hey!” a drunken, and slightly high too, quinn mutters into the phone. you let out a sigh, and greet him back.

“congrats on graduating! guys say congrats to y/n!” he shouts to his other friends. a mix of male and female voice congratulate you, and your heart just shatters. quinn didn’t call you on purpose, he’s just intoxicated and bored. eventually you get off the phone and look at your lockscreen. it’s a picture of you and the boys as little children on the lake. in the picture, quinn is looking down at you with a small smile, while luke and jack argue next to you both. you and quinn have always been the quieter ones of the mix, something that helped you two bond.

‘i didn’t choose this town, i dream of getting out. there’s just one who could make me stay. all my days. from sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, i waited ages to see you there. i searched the party of better bodies, just to learn that you never cared.’

the only thing you hated about leaving michigan was leaving both luke and the memories. you hate everything else about this state. the petty, small town drama has never been an acquired taste of yours. although you’re only moving one state over, it still feels like a fresh start for you. luke starts college the week after you, so the hughes family decided they want to help you move into college. besides quinn. quinn flys back to vancouver today, even when he has a solid two weeks left of off season.

you sigh as you get settled in your dorm, with luke and jack sitting on your new bed next to you. they wrap their arms around you for a picture, which ellen sends to the group chat you’ve had going for years now. quinn just hearts the image, not even typing a reply. luke and jack see your disappointed visage, and squeeze you a little tighter on their way out.

you and quinn have always talked about your futures from a young age. his dreams of going to the nhl, and yours of getting into college. you guys vowed to support each other no matter what, and you appear to have been the only one who kept that promise. you sat through his draft and even visited him in vancouver for his nhl debut. yet he chose to fly back to vancouver, for god knows what reason, instead of staying one extra day to help you move into college.

as both of your families, biological and chosen, leave you in your dorm room, you let out a deep sigh. the small photo collage on your dorm wall is full of pictures of you and the boys, only making the big change even harder. the only thought running through your head is how quinn is on a plane to vancouver while you’re going on your own path too. although he’s older and in the big leagues now, you never realized he’d be leaving you behind. you can’t help but wonder if maybe winter break was a mistake.

‘you’re on your own, kid. you always have been.’

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes

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