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#*ending is bittersweet* i am going to think about this for the rest of my life
doodleodds · 1 year
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Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.
If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.
I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.
I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.
Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.
#p5#akeshu#akechi goro#kurusu akira#wow- me?? posting a valentines comic... actually on?? valentines????? wack. absolutely wack#it's a short one! I purposefully tried to keep it short. it was a challenge and it still ended up being 3 pages. but i blame my canvas size#also in case u can't see what akira is holding out to akechi: theyre chocolate covered strawberries on sticks!#i saw them irl and was like oh god i want those. i am going to project that feeling on my favorite characters so help me god#and now! here we are! but my shitty-ass coloring & line quality make it hard to discern them so. sorry about that lmaooooo#ANYWAY i don't do enough post-maruki stuff so. i made this one a little bittersweet. :)#why did i put akechi's scarf in a bow? honestly i dont know! i think i saw some art a while ago that did that too and i thought it was cute#well. plus i guess there's the symbolism of 'akechi being alive and reciprocating your feelings (however involuntarily) IS a gift' part#hence that hes wrapped up in a bow. like a present. :)#also god. the first panel is supposed to be akechi's reflection in a vending machine window. I could NOT get it to look right#so for reference!!! just so you guys understand!!!!!! thats what that panel is supposed to be!!! he is NOT in fact a ghost. (sigh)#hope you enjoyed and had a lovely valentines!! for my part i have eaten nothing but sweets today and hoo boy will that have been a mistake#ALSO in terms of the audience-participation comic...hopefully coming soon. if i can ever gain the will to draw it.#but at least tumblr has polls now so i can do the audience-choose-y bit without needing to use a separate website! so thats good i guess#anyway anyway anway thanks for listening to me ramble if you made it this far! have a lovely rest of your day and hopefully see u again soon
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fagrights · 1 year
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yeah. this year this month has been a lot for me and i dont think i have really taken time to breathe all year or process things and i dont think i'll be able to for a while still but. there are lots of things that seem so easy that you are sure you can get through with no problem and then they happen and you are more lost and effected by it than the thing that you had been dreading for a long time. but i think there is something strangely comforting about looking back even a year ago and realizing that you have grown so much as a person in that time that you thought (naively) that you had been already so strong and seeing that you could change in ways you had no idea you could
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yanaromanov · 15 days
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pretty little beginnings
- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader
part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…
part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.
authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)
part one of the inescapable love series
inescapable love masterlist
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・ 。゚*. 18+, minors DNI . * 。゚・
7.8K words
The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.
Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.
Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.
In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.
So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.
Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.
A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.
Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.
“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”
Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”
The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”
Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”
The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.
American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.
“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.
“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”
You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.
———
“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”
Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”
A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.
“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”
Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.
“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.
Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”
Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.
The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.
Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.
The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.
Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.
“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”
All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.
The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.
It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.
Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.
“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”
All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.
“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”
A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.
“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”
You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.
Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.
Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.
The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.
———
“So how was it?”
Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.
“How was what?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.
“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”
Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”
You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”
Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”
Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”
Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”
You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.
The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.
“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.
“Romanoff.”
Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”
“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”
“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”
From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.
Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.
———
The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.
Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.
You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.
Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.
Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.
“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”
You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.
Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”
She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.
“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”
“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”
Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”
“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”
Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”
“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”
Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.
“Keys?”
“Shit.”
The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.
———
Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.
A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.
The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.
Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”
Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”
Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”
Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”
Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”
The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”
The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”
Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.
"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.
"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."
Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"
The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"
Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."
The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."
———
Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.
Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.
“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.
“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”
With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.
“Yes?”
A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”
If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.
Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.
Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.
See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.
The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.
Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.
Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.
You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.
As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.
The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.
“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”
The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.
“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.
When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.
“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”
As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.
“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”
It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”
Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“
The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.
“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”
You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”
That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”
You shook your head. “No.”
Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.
“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”
The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"
Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"
The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.
When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."
The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."
The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.
Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."
The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."
Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.
"And Y/N?"
You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."
For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.
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alewritesfics · 7 months
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Third time's the charm
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader
Word count: 826
Warnings: unedited, fluff I think
A/n: A short little fic but I hope you enjoy it!
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It has been said that every person experiences 3 types of love in their lifetime.
Of course, that same person may fall in love numerous times throughout the years but there’s only 3 that stand out from the rest, 3 different experiences that impact you and form you into who you are today.
That was the case for Anthony Bridgerton.
The first one is, obviously, the first love. The young, puppy love. For Anthony, that was Sienna Rosso.
When Anthony saw the opera singer for the first time, he was immediately enchanted and thus started their love affair.
Unfortunately, it didn’t go anywhere seeing as Sienna was from the low class and Anthony, as the Viscount, has responsibilities he needed to uphold.
After Sienna, Anthony wasn’t planning on falling in love again. It was a new season, he was planning to marry not out of love but out of duty.
Then came the second love, the hard love. Kate Sharma.
Originally, he was planning on marrying her sister, Edwina, but along the way both Anthony and Kate fell in love. It was a bittersweet love. It was beautiful, Anthony had never felt like that before, they were happy…..until they weren’t.
They started to clash. Their personalities were too similar, they were both headstrong, stubborn. It was amusing at first and something Anthony enjoyed, at least that way he would never have a boring day in his life but when it came to serious matters, they could never agree on anything.
So little by little, the love they had for each other faded. It wasn’t anybody’s fault especially not Kate’s, of course not, Kate was an amazing woman. Sadly, it didn’t work.
After that, Anthony lost hope, he was 31 and not yet married. With Sienna it wasn’t possible, with Kate it didn’t work out and he wasn’t interested by any of the ladies of the ton, so what was he supposed to do now? How will he continue the Bridgerton bloodline?
“Hey there old man”
Anthony was snapped out of his thoughts, his eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head to see your smiling face.
“What? Are you thinking of your failed love life?” You teased as you sat down beside him
Anthony rolled his eyes “I am not old” he scoffed “What are you doing here you little demon?”
“I beg to differ” you chuckle “I’m not a little demon, it seems you have forgotten but I’m a lady, old man”
He raised an eyebrow “Are you now? It’s hard to see with how much you act like a man”
You gasp offended “As if. Now I see why you’re alone, who on earth is able to stand you? I pity the woman that ends up marrying you in the future” you say
Anthony couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked at you with a fond look in his eyes “Oh no” he tuts “You may want to take back your words, you never know, maybe you will be the woman that ends up marrying me” he teased
You hit his shoulder again “Lord no, don’t even joke about that” you shudder
“Hey!” he exclaimed “There’s nothing wrong with me”
You hummed unconvinced “Sure there isn’t, that’s why you’re so lucky in the love department, Mr. Viscount Bridgerton” You taunt before you laughed
“Mother” Anthony calls out making your eyes widen “Y/n is making fun of my love life-“
“Shut up you!” you exclaim as you cover his mouth with your hand
Anthony looks down at your hand covering his mouth before he looks back up at you, letting out a laugh.
The third love, the unexpected love. Anthony wasn’t looking to fall in love again but it crept up on him little by little. He never expected it to be you, the girl he’s known practically his entire life, the woman he saw grow up, his best friend.
And yet, he couldn’t help the warm feeling on his chest whenever he saw you. How his heart fluttered when he saw you smiling because of him.
It's you. It has probably always been you. You were the one that has always been there for him, through his father’s death, through the fights with his siblings or his mother, through his affair with Sienna and his failed relationship with Kate and yet, you always stayed by his side even if you were 5 years younger than him, it didn’t matter.
He was thankful for his failed relationships in the past. Because they helped him grow into the person he was today. It helped him learn what to do and what not to. It helped him to know how to love you.
The first and second love definitely helped him, no matter how painful they ended up being, they ended up preparing him to find his way to you.
“Marry me” Anthony said as he looked up at you
He loved you, he was sure of it.
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brbsoulnomming · 5 months
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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 27 (final part)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | AO3
rating: explicit
-----
In the morning, Jonathan and Steve and Argyle make breakfast together, and Eddie watches them move around each other kind of bemusedly. He's not sure how, but somehow, it works, and the end result is a spread enough to feed even this hoard.
They trickle out sometime after that, most of them checking on Eddie and Steve one last time. Robin hurries some of them - Dustin and Mike - along, saying Steve has to help Eddie with his physical therapy.
"Wayne's dropping me off at home," she tells them, when it's just her and his uncle waiting in the truck left. "That's my gift to you - you get the weekend to enjoy your physical therapy."
She waggles her eyebrows meaningfully, cackling at them as she leaves.
When it's just them, and the house is utterly silent, they look at each other.
"I'll lock up downstairs," Eddie offers.
"I'll take upstairs," Steve agrees, already running towards it.
Eddie checks the doors and windows, just to be safe, then books it upstairs.
Steve's already sitting on the bed, eyes scanning what looks like Eddie's discharge paperwork.
He looks up when Eddie walks into the room, his expression lighting up in a way that makes Eddie's heart beat a little quicker.
"We need to talk," he blurts out, before he can let himself get distracted by the urge to kiss Steve senseless.
Steve's face falls. "Oh," he says. "Um. Yeah, okay, sure."
"About Jason," Eddie adds hurriedly. "And everything that happened."
"Oh! Right, you're right. Of course." Steve sets the papers aside, scooting up on the bed so Eddie can come sit across from him.
Steve immediately gets his hands on Eddie's knees when he does, leaning into his space. "How are you doing?"
That's not what Eddie meant, but he lets himself think about the question anyway.
"I don't know," he admits. "Can we come back to that?"
Steve makes a face at him. "That won't work forever," he warns him.
"I know," Eddie says. "Does it help if I say this time, at least I knew I wasn't alone?"
Steve considers that. "Does it help you?"
"Yeah," Eddie says slowly. "Before - when I was in the boathouse, or on the lake, or in the woods alone, or even in the Upside Down, there was a lot of times that I thought for sure I was going to die. But last night? I believed I'd be okay. I knew you were there, I knew you all had my back."
"We always will," Steve promises, tipping his head to kiss him.
"That's the other thing we need to talk about," Eddie says. "You always being so ready to be the one to take the hits."
Steve rolls his eyes. "Why does everyone keep bringing that up? I'm not trying to get hurt."
"You still do, though," Eddie points out. "Every time. You think we don't worry about you? Look, if you can look me in the eye and tell me it's a hundred percent not because you think you're worth less than the rest of the party, or that you're only as good as what you can do for them, then I'll drop it."
Steve's jaw tightens, throat working as he swallows.
"Thought so," Eddie says when Steve's been silent for a while.
"I don't exactly think I'm worth less," Steve says.
Eddie waits, but there's no lie, so he relaxes a little.
"But I guess I do think this is what I'm good for," Steve continues. "This is how I can help them."
"Stevie," Eddie whispers, his heart breaking a little. "There's so much more to you than just that, okay? You're more than that to them. To us."
He knows that Joyce said it last night, and he's pretty sure that Robin must have told him it at least a dozen times, but he's also pretty sure that Steve needs to hear it as much as possible.
Steve gives him a bittersweet little smile. "What else am I supposed to do, Eds, sit on the sidelines? Let one of the kids get hurt instead?"
"That's not - okay, look, I'm not going to ask you to stop. No when it's for the kids, and not when we all make plans for Vecna. I get it, I do," Eddie says. "But I don't want you to do it for me."
"Like you weren't going to do the same thing when Jason had the gun pointed at you," Steve says.
Which -
"Okay, fair," Eddie concedes. "But if I don't like it when you do it for me, and you don't like it when I do it for you, where does that leave us?"
Steve frowns. "I don't know. I guess - I guess we work as a team?"
Eddie scrubs a hand over his face. "We did okay once we actually got on the same page?"
Steve drums his fingers on his knee. "I think this is a conversation we need to have with Robin here," he admits.
"Good call," Eddie agrees.
Steve's quiet for a moment. "But I hear you, okay? I do. I know you and Robin don't like it. Like I told her, I - I'll think about both of you before I do anything."
And that -
Yeah, actually, he thinks that's all he needs right now.
"But you have to do the same," Steve adds. "No more like what you did with the demobats."
Unlike when he promised Dustin he wouldn't do that again, he actually thinks it through this time.
"If it's Dustin or me," he says slowly. "It's going to have to be me."
Steve looks at him pointedly, and Eddie winces.
"Right, I know, it's the same for you. But I-" Eddie cuts off, trying to figure out how to say this and be honest without being too vulnerable.
"Eds," Steve murmurs, thumbs rubbing over the inside of his knees.
Right. It's Steve, his soulmate. He can be vulnerable. More than that - he thinks he needs to be vulnerable.
"I wanted to be brave," he admits. "I didn't want to run anymore. I know you don't think I had anything to prove, but I thought I did."
"What about now?" Steve asks.
"I don't know," Eddie says. "I don't think I'm an NPC anymore. But this is - I'm not like you guys, I don't know what I'll do next time. If I'll run again."
Steve frowns. "What's an NPC?"
Eddie huffs out a hollow little laugh. "Non-player character. It's the side characters in a D&D campaign, the ones that no one actually plays, they're just there to facilitate the story and then disappear."
Steve's face smooths out into understanding, and he leans in to kiss him, just the softest brush of their lips together. "Yeah," he says when he pulls back. "I figured you felt like you weren't really one of us, and that you weren't going to make it. But you don't anymore?"
"No," Eddie says. "I don't really know what to do with it, but I know this is it. This is where I want to be. You, uh. You're it for me, too, Stevie."
He'd already accidently fessed up to overhearing Steve and Robin's conversation, after all, so he might as well go all in.
Steve huffs out a little laugh, kissing him again. "I love you."
"Love you, too," Eddie whispers. Then he pulls back, arching one eyebrow. "So how about that physical therapy?"
Steve pulls Eddie's discharge paperwork back out.
"Wait, you - you actually wanted to do the stupid stretches? I thought that was a euphemism!" Eddie says, disappointed.
Steve bumps their knees together. "If you don't stretch out that leg first, you're going to cramp up in the middle of something you really don't want to be cramping up in."
"Oh. Oh! Okay, I'll take it." Eddie flops onto his back on the bed, legs sprawled out. "Okay, Stevie, you're the jock here. Get me stretched out."
Steve laughs, scooting over to get his hands on Eddie's leg. He spreads the paperwork out next to him, looking at it for a moment before he dives right into it.
Eddie lets out a surprised grunt as Steve maneuvers his leg, one hand cupping his knee and the other on his thigh. He can feel it deep in his hip as it rotates nice and slow, can feel the stretch of his thigh, but no there's no sharp pains like he might have expected.
"Tell me if it hurts," Steve says, glancing back at the paper and then moving him again.
The diagrams hadn't been all that helpful when Eddie'd looked, and he'd figured he'd have to actually read through the written instructions a few more times to make any kind of sense of them. But Steve moves his leg around easy as anything, his guiding hands gentle and firm and every movement nice and fluid.
Eddie props himself up on his elbow so he can get a better look at Steve. "You're pretty good at this. Hey, I bet you'd make a good physical therapist."
Steve hums noncommittally.
"No?" Eddie asks.
"I mean, sure, maybe, one day. For now? I might get the Family Video job back, or somewhere else around town that's still open, but until Vecna's down for good, my full time job's gonna be - what'd you call it? Being a paladin."
Eddie can't exactly refute that, but shit, everything about that statement sucks.
Well, almost everything.
"You know, I can see the barbarian side of you, too," Eddie teases.
Steve rolls his eyes. "Fine, full time paladin, part time barbarian."
Eddie snickers. "You're already multiclassing."
Steve scoffs, but his expression is unbelievably fond. "I can't believe how into it I am when you're being a giant nerd, it's pretty embarrassing."
It makes Eddie's insides go all warm and gooey, Steve looking at him like that, and yet -
"You are, though, right? Into it?" he finds himself asking.
"Eds," Steve murmurs, leaning in closer. "I'm into everything about you. It's you."
Eddie tries to just accept it. It's clearly not a lie, but something about the way Steve says it like it should be obvious makes him hunch in on himself a little.
"Right, who wouldn't be into a nerdy, virgin, drug dealing super super senior?"
Steve frowns, pulling back to look at him. There's a scrunch between his brows that says he's thinking hard about something, and Eddie wants so bad to reach out to smooth it out.
Wait.
Now he can.
Eddie presses his thumb to the little spot, rubbing it like he's rubbing away whatever Steve's thinking about that's making him make that face.
Steve huffs out a laugh, batting his hand away. "All right, let's look at this," he says, rocking back on his heels and holding up one finger.
"First - in case you haven't noticed, all of my friends are huge nerds, man. I'm kind of a nerd, I just look like much less of one compared to all of you. Second -" Steve puts up another finger. "All right, I'm not super thrilled about the drug dealing when it comes to the harder stuff, but you did what you had to, and I'd be a huge hypocrite if I complained about the weed. Third - it's high school. Weren't you the one who said it feels like it's a lot less important now in the face of everything else?"
"That's different," Eddie mutters, feeling a little bit overwhelmed. He's not used to having someone systematically refute almost all of his points about himself like that, and he doesn't know what to do with it other than focus on the one it feels like Steve doesn't understand. "That was social conformity, this is - this is fucking graduating, man."
He's not sure what he'd do if Steve brushed it off again. Fortunately, Steve just shifts a little, laying down on his side next to him.
"Will you tell me?" Steve asks.
Eddie turns to face him more, hand coming up to fiddle with the hem of Steve's shirt. "My dad never graduated," he says finally. "Dropped out after junior year when they told him that it wasn't looking good for him to be able to graduate, said there were bigger and better things out there than high school, anyway. I don't want to be like him, I don't want to give up."
Steve brushes his hair back, tucking it behind his ear. "You fought Vecna with us. You stuck with us, even now. You decided to work with me on making our bond romantic even when you thought Robin and I were together. You aren't the give up type, Eddie, and if graduating is important to you, then it's important to me, too. I know you can do it."
Eddie slips his hand under Steve's shirt, thumb rubbing over his waist. "Yeah? You gonna cheer for me at graduation?"
Steve quirks a little grin. "I'll yell for you and Robs so loud you'll hear me over everyone else."
Eddie kisses him.
"Noticed you didn't say anything about the virgin thing," he jokes when they break for air.
Eddie doesn't actually think that's an issue for Steve, not after how he'd reacted when Eddie first told him, but when Steve doesn't say anything, it makes him frown a little.
"Steve?" he asks, pulling back to look at him.
"It's not like that's going to be true much longer," Steve points out, but there's something about the way he says it that makes Eddie narrow his eyes at him.
"Steve Harrington," Eddie drawls, delighted. "Is that a thing for you? Do you have a virgin thing?"
"I don't have a-" Steve starts to protest, then amends it to, "I don't exactly have a virgin thing."
"Oh, but you have a sort of virgin thing?" Eddie teases. "You're into it, aren't you, popping cherries?"
Steve shoves him as Eddie cackles, and before long Steve's giving a little snort of laughter too.
"Shut up," Steve says. "I just - I like being able to make someone's first experience a good one, okay? I like that someone's trusted me enough to be their first time. And - maybe I really like the idea of being that for you."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice softening a little. "You gonna make it good for me, Stevie?"
Steve props himself up so he can lean over Eddie, dropping a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You gonna let me?" he asks, just as soft.
Eddie swallows. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll let you."
Steve hums in response, kissing along the line of his jaw.
Eddie grunts when Steve bites him just under the edge of his jaw, his hips bucking up involuntarily at the sensation of Steve's tongue soothing over the sting from his teeth.
His hands push under Steve's shirt, fingertips scratching through the hair over his stomach as he pushes the fabric up.
"Off," he mutters, tugging insistently, until Steve finally pulls away from his neck to strip off his shirt.
Eddie groans, finally getting to openly stare at him the way he couldn't do the last time Steve was shirtless. He reaches out eagerly, palms sweeping up Steve's ribs before he pushes his fingers through the fucking lush mat of hair on his chest.
Steve grunts as Eddie skims over some of his soulmate words, eyes going wide. "Fuck."
"Right?" Eddie agrees, sliding one hand back down to do it again.
Steve shoves his own hands under Eddie's shirt, manhandling him a little to get him sitting up enough that he can pull it off.
Eddie's dick twitches, practically straining against his jeans - yup, Jesus Christ, confirmed that is definitely a thing for him.
When it's Steve, at least.
He expects Steve to get his hands on him, the way Eddie's still stroking possessively over Steve's chest, but instead Steve dips down and gets his mouth on his collarbone, sucking a mark into his skin.
Eddie makes a choked off sound, something between a moan and a curse.
"That okay?" Steve asks quietly.
One of Eddie's hands abandons Steve's chest so he can push it into his hair instead, tangling in the soft strands so he can hold him right where he is.
"So fucking okay," Eddie says.
Steve huffs out a little laugh, the puff of warm air against his collarbone sending a little shiver down Eddie's spine.
He doesn't dive back in immediately, though, leaving Eddie squirming and arching his hips up.
"What're you waiting for?" he demands.
"Looking for something," Steve replies.
Before Eddie can ask what, Steve dives back in, tongue dragging a line over his sternum.
Right where Eddie knows it says I don't think you're brave.
If Eddie thought it was overwhelming before, having Steve's hands on his words, it's got nothing on his tongue. The wet heat against his chest seems to have a direct line to his dick, and when Steve's lips brush over another line of words on his stomach, he feels it fucking everywhere.
Eddie's not entirely sure how, but somehow, they manage to get both of their jeans and underwear shoved down and tossed aside.
There's so much fucking bare skin, and Eddie's greedy for it, reaching out and touching anything he can reach as Steve practically makes out with every bit of soulmate ink he can find.
Eddie throws his head back as Steve sinks lower, tongue carefully tracing one of raised red lines of his mostly healed bite marks without quite touching it, teeth grazing along one of the bisected words instead.
His hands tangle in Steve's hair again, grip a little harder than he means to - but Steve gives this punched out moan, and fuck, okay, Eddie's going to assume a little hair tugging is on the table.
Steve finds the words on the inside of Eddie's thigh, the ones that say I don't care about my soulmate, too, and I won't do anything to keep them safe, and if Steve's hands weren't on his hips, Eddie's pretty sure he would have hit Steve in the face with how hard he bucks up when Steve bites him there.
"Steve," he manages to get out. "Steve, I'm gonna-"
"Yeah," Steve says, getting one hand around his cock and stroking over him. "Come on, Eds."
His grip on Steve's hair tightens so much it has to hurt when he comes, spilling all over Steve's hand and his own stomach with a strangled shout. Steve strokes him through it, like he's trying to get every last bit of sensation out of him that he can.
Eddie's panting harshly when Steve finally lets go, and his hands slip out of Steve's hair as Steve pulls back to sit up.
His brain is practically mush, and he's not sure he can even feel all of his limbs, let alone move them, but he still makes a greedy little noise when Steve rocks back on his heels and Eddie gets his first good look at his cock.
"Gimme," Eddie mutters, hands twitching as he tries to reach for it.
Steve laughs softly. "Next time," he says.
Instead, he takes one of Eddie's hands in his, lacing their fingers together. With his other hand, Steve jerks himself off, stroking quick and rough, and Eddie's fucking mesmerized by the sight.
It doesn't take long for Steve to come, too, and Eddie's feeling pretty fantastic about that. Steve is so fucking beautiful when he comes that Eddie's spent dick gives a little jolt, and he wonders how quick Steve could be ready for that next time.
Steve drops down next to him when he's finished, and they press together as close as possible, trading kisses that are more like panting into each other's mouths than anything else.
"I love you," he murmurs in Steve's ear, when he's finally got enough breath left to speak.
Steve holds him closer, burying his face in Eddie's neck. "Love you," he returns.
They lay like that for a long time, as Eddie slowly feels his heart start to calm down - as it sinks in that this is fucking real.
"You okay?" Steve asks after a while, voice soft.
"I'm fucking fantastic," Eddie replies.
Steve hums happily, finally tipping his head up so he can kiss him. "That was a first for me, too, you know," he admits quietly.
Eddie smiles. "First boy Steve Harrington ever slept with, that's a pretty good achievement."
Steve rolls his eyes. "First and last," he points out, which -
Hmm.
Okay, apparently that might be kind of a thing for Eddie, too.
"Ruined you for all other men, didn't I?" Eddie asks smugly.
Steve snorts, pinching his side.
Eddie just grins at him, wide and gleeful, until Steve huffs out a little laugh and kisses him again.
"You're lucky I really like seeing you like this," Steve retorts.
"What, all fucked out?" Eddie asks.
"Nah. Like seeing you happy."
Oh.
"Stevie," he murmurs, gently pushing his fingers through Steve's hair.
Steve tilts his head into his hand for a moment. Then he smirks. "Besides, that wasn't anywhere close to what I plan to do to get you all fucked out."
Eddie's dick twitches again.
"So, uh. How soon can we have that next time?" he asks.
Steve grins at him. "Lunch first, then round two?"
"Hell yes," Eddie agrees.
It's going to be a fucking fantastic weekend.
Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler graduate with the rest of their class that year.
And this time, finally, so does Eddie Munson.
Graduation doesn't happen until July, with all the delays, but Eddie is right there among the class of '86, wearing Steve's jeans and one of his uncle's button ups and all of his rings and chains under his cap and gown.
Robin's name gets called first, and Eddie joins the near deafening roar that comes from all of the people cheering her in the bleachers. He can faintly hear Steve shouting "That's my girl!" over everyone else, but Eddie's not sure if that's because Steve's actually louder than all of them or because he's listening out for Steve more.
When it's Eddie's turn - he honestly doesn't know what to expect. It might be dramatic of him, but he wouldn't be all that surprised if he got tomatoes thrown at him.
What he gets, though, is a roar just as deafening and a fucking standing ovation from two rows of the bleachers. He can hear his uncle shouting "That's my son!", a whoop that sounds like a battle cry coming from the party, and Steve damn near screaming, "That's my boy!"
Eddie can't resist throwing out a pair of devil horns after he takes his diploma.
Vecna is still out there, and Hawkins is still a shithole, and Eddie still doesn't have any more of an idea of what his future holds than he did when he was still in high school.
But he's got two soulmates, and a boyfriend, and a family big enough to fill two rows of the bleachers, and as long as he's got them by his side?
They can handle anything that comes for them.
-----
And we have officially reached the end! I do have a little bit more planned in this verse eventually - a couple of B side things and some prequels from Steve's POV, and a one shot of the campaign they all agreed to play, but for now, this is completed.
I wanted to give a huge thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and commented! The response to this honestly astounded me a little, and I wouldn't have been so motivated to finish this without reading everyone's comments and tags in their reblogs. Thank you all so, so much, and a massive thank you to the Steddie fandom in general!! I'm definitely not done with this pairing, and I hope to have more done for them soon.
Tag list: @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination
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meaningofaeons · 8 months
Note
Hello! Have you played the latest part of the xianzhou quest? If not ignore this ask lmao.
If yes, holy shi the potential for hurt comfort in the scenes of the final battle against phentylia??
I wanted to ask if you could write a hurt/comfort fic jing yuan x reader, where reader is in the battle and sees all the shit go down and is quite shaken.
Thanks!
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ at the end of immortality
⊹ character(s) - jing yuan ⊹ word count - 829 ⊹ notes - SPOILERS FOR 1.2 TRAILBLAZE MISSION !!!, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, reader is like jing yuan's right-hand in battle and in the seat of divine foresight/implied to be a guard of some sort to him, reader and jing yuan are not together but they're both pining hard, a bit angsty but still comfort, not edited sorry
hi anon omg. this ask got me giggling kicking my feet like YES... thank you for requesting!! (^º◡º^❁) (also im so sorry I made this a little more angsty than I expected to wtf!!!!)
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You were mad. Furious, even.
Jing Yuan could tell without even beholding your expression that you were positively seething with rage.
Towards him.
He dare not say a word about your current state to your face, though. Not when you silently draped new bandages over his wounds, and not when your hands lingered just a bit longer than they should've.
Not when he could feel the near-imperceptible tremble of your fingertips as you carefully nursed him back to health, treating him like a precious ornament that may break at the slightest touch.
"...How bad is it?"
The General's hoarse voice cut the silence like Dan Heng's spear had cut right through his torso.
Your mind flashed back to the scene, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut.
"General!"
Jing Yuan fell through the air as Phantylia's grip faltered at last. He wasn't a Void Ranger, but...
Seeing the spear of the Vidyadhara High Elder pierce him had just about sent the same level of fear shooting through you. As though the weapon had pierced your chest, instead.
"Y/N, wait!"
"Imbibitor Lunae, what did you—?!"
Your fury came off in waves, your distress even more palpable. The aforementioned Vidyadhara—no, Dan Heng—approached you with the General in his arms, handing him off with little resistance as you helped the man to a stand.
He was still alive. You could've wept. He was still alive.
But he wasn't okay.
"I told you to stay back," you whispered, forcing your hands to still as you finished patching up his wound. They brushed over the space where Dan Heng's spear hit, and you winced at Jing Yuan's flinch.
At his slight chuckle, you worried he might come up with some witty quip that would undoubtedly enrage you into pounding your fist against his wounded back.
Instead, he only turned to gaze at you, golden eyes smoldering.
"You know I couldn't do that."
As angry as you were, you did know.
But still...
What use is a guard if their charge is always the one at the front lines?
As the General of the Xianzhou Luofu... what could you even do for such a brilliant man?
"If it had been you up there, I may have died in my worry. I'm not getting any younger, my dear."
"And neither am I. Do you have no care for the pain you put my heart through?"
Your words were far from proper, your actions even less so as you rested your weary head on the General's shoulder. He seemed to lack any concern for his own propriety, his hand reaching up to grasp your own, his rough thumb brushing your fingertips with a delicate tenderness you didn't want to think too much into.
"...I'm sorry."
Jing Yuan's relenting words were bittersweet to your wanting ears, roughened by his strain. You clutched his hand just a bit tighter.
"Is that an apology for your actions, or an apology for the fact that you'll continue to be reckless until the day you die?"
He chuckled more. The sound sent a warm, tingling feeling through your chest, a feeling that you desperately clutched to in your distress.
"Would you hit me if I said both?"
"I'll be merciful enough to save it for when you're in better shape."
The rumbling laughter continued, and you silently scolded the man for the chance of exacerbating his wounds. He only deflected the blame unto you for your quip, and you sighed out.
Ease. Your anger dissipated, fading into a comfortable silence that the General did not dare break again.
He also did not dare, however, to turn and face you. You were grateful for that.
Because in spite of your assuaged rage, your abated worries, you still fear many things.
You fear seeing new scars on Jing Yuan that you did not have to see before. You fear seeing the exhaustion grow in his youthful features, yet aged all the same. You fear the possibility that he is only a phantasm, that the mara has stricken your mind at last and all you have left of him is a pathetic delusion created by your own longing.
More than any of that, somehow, you fear that if he were to turn around in this very moment, you would cross that one line you had sworn never to touch.
The line that, when crossed, would allow you to abandon all restraint. The line that, when crossed, would mean you grasp your General in the way you've longed to, kissing him slowly to make sure he's really still here with you. To make him promise he would be here with you, forever, until the end of your immortality.
Judging from the way Jing Yuan placed his rough lips upon the back of your hand, you knew he was thinking the same.
Not yet. Not now, not even now.
But perhaps one day, it wouldn't be such a daunting wall to scale.
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year
Text
make my heart surrender | carmen berzatto x fem!reader | chapter seven: tuesday, again
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, references to sex, no use of y/n, second person pov, happy ending
word count: 3.8k
summary: you left your heart in chicago, so the only logical conclusion you've come to, is that you have to go back.
a/n: ok this author's note may be a long one. WOW. can i just say 'wow' holy shit?! i wrote this story in a week because inspiration struck and i couldn't get these characters, or this story, out of my freaking head. i am beyond grateful to any and all that read, liked, reblogged, or commented. thank you for being cheerleaders for me, carmy, and this story. i am truly so in love with these characters it hurts, so thank you for encouraging me to continue this love affair.
that being said, i am not done with these two at all. i have a few companion pieces i'm working on right now: a playlist, a headcanon, and maybe even a oneshot (or a few but who's counting)? thank you again for reading. please enjoy.
read: part six | masterlist
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Tuesday, again. 
It’s Tuesday again and your time in Chicago has come to an end. Carmy had stayed the night with you at your airbnb. But morning came, and he left early to start his morning at the restaurant. Truthfully, he just hadn’t wanted to watch you pack – couldn’t get out of there fast enough when you’d opened your suitcase. You noticed how much it bothered him, letting him know that you’d stop by the restaurant before heading to the airport. 
And that was that. You’d gone your separate ways before, and you’d go your separate ways again – just for a little bit. And it wouldn't be like last the last time. It’s bittersweet – leaving today – but you keep reminding yourself of the conversation you’d had yesterday about the future of your relationship. You wanted to be with him, and Carmy wanted to be with you. The rest, you’d figure out as you go.
Your boyfriend.
It felt strange – even if he’d basically already been your unofficial platonic boyfriend back in New York. Adding a title to it was a whole other ball game. 
New. 
Never did you think, as you were preparing for this trip, that you’d return back home with Carmy as yours. You thought maybe you’d talk about what happened -- smooth things over -- but that would be that, and you’d go back to being friends. After this week, you were starting to believe you were never supposed to be just friends. 
You had a feeling none of your friends would be surprised when you shared the news – not in the least. 
You finish packing up your things, double checking that you haven’t left anything behind before heading to the restaurant. It’s about thirty minutes to lunch service, and since they’re not open just yet, you enter through the back door one last time for what feels like could be a while. 
And there it is again: that bittersweet feeling. 
“Chef!” Tina says, her eyes lighting up as she sees you. “You headin’ out today?”
“Hey, T,” you reply. “Yeah, I’m heading to the airport after this. Just wanted to stop by before I go.”
“Well you better come back soon,” she says almost as if it’s a threat, and you laugh in response. 
“Of course.”
“There she is!” Marcus hollers across the kitchen, as soon as he spots you. “Damn. What am I gonna do with you?”
“Uh… keep doin’ what you’re doing and kill it?” you reply, eliciting a proud smile from him. 
“Seriously. This last week… I’ve learned so much from you. Thank you,” he says, his gratitude evident in his voice. 
“No, thank you, Marcus,” you answer, genuinely. “I haven’t felt this inspired in… well a while. I want to be kept up on all your new flavor pairings. Just remember. I’m only a text away.”
“Yes, chef,” he replies, moving in to give you a hug. 
He wraps his arms around you and you hug him back. Boy, is it bittersweet. How, in one week, have you gotten so attached?
“Hey! I want in!” another voice chimes in, as you and Marcus’ hug comes to an end. 
“Syd!”
You smile, greeting Sydney with a hug – a hello goodbye kind of hug.
“You better come visit me in New York,” you insist. You’re not sure how long you’ll be there, but you say it anyways, just in case it’s a while. 
You watch as Sydney and Marcus exchange glaces. 
“What?”
“Nothin’, chef,” Marcus answers, almost too quickly. 
Sydney shrugs, “I don’t know. Just uh, wondering how long you’ll be there for.” She’s prodding and she knows it. You decide not to ask what she means by it.
“Well, if it ends up being longer… than I expect, you better come up,” you clarify. 
“Okay, yes. I definitely will,” Sydney agrees with a nod, before pulling you in for one more hug. 
“Hey, cousin said you’re headin’ out so Ebra’s made you a sandwich for the trip, babe. We’ll see ya around soon,” Richie greets, interrupting your moment with Sydney and Marcus. 
Richie, whose affection seems to catch you off guard, slings an arm around you, handing you the sandwich that Ebraheim has so kindly wrapped up for you. 
“Cousin!” Richie shouts, in search of Carmy. 
“Jesus Christ, it’s ten in the morning. Are we already starting the yelling this early or-?” Carmy calls back to him. He bursts through the doors from where he’s been fixing something up in the front of house dining area. He stops as soon as he sees you. 
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” you reply, taking in the image of his unruly curls, white t-shirt, and blue apron you've gotten so used to over the last few days.
It’s almost as if everyone else but Richie tries to make themselves as busy as possible – to give you two a chance to say goodbye. You can hear Marcus and Sydney making themselves scarce as Angel and Manny turn the sink water back on. 
“I just uh-, wanted to stop by before heading to the airport,” you say, unsure of just how much everyone else knows about you and Carmy’s current relationship. “Say goodbye to everyone.”
It’s clear that they know something’s up, but you still have your reservations about kissing him in front of everyone. 
“What do you mean?" Richie asks, glaring at Carmy. "This asshat’s not takin’ you to the airport?”
Richies practically shouting for the entire kitchen to hear, causing you and Carmy both to take a breath. You exchange a ‘here we go again’ look as Richie continues on.
“What kind of-, I swear to god, cousin-.”
“Richie!” you hear Tina snap, looking up from her prep station. “Shut the fuck up and give them a minute, you old bitch.”
Richie throws his hands up, before bowing out of the conversation, leaving just you and Carmy in the middle of the walkway. You can hear Richie and Tina bickering in hushed tones over by the stove, earning a quiet laugh from you. 
Your heart aches in the best way as you commit this moment to memory.
God, you're going to miss this. 
“You wanna..?” Carmy asks, nodding his head in the direction of the back door. 
You nod in agreement, letting him lead you back out to the alley. 
And now it’s really just the two of you, and while it’s not the most romantic of backgrounds, you’re going to work with what you’ve got. Carmy seems nervous as he fidgets with the ties of his apron. 
“You uh, you sure you don’t want me to take you to the airport?” Carmy asks hesitantly, thinking back to Richie’s earlier comment. 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you answer with confidence. “Besides, I’d never want to take you away from these guys. You open in a few anyway.”
He smiles, accepting your answer. It’s something he loves about you: that you get it. You understand that sometimes the food’s gotta come first. 
You didn’t know why it felt so weird – so challenging, awkward, strange – to say goodbye to him. Because it wasn’t really a goodbye. And it also was and you’re not sure if you have a name for this feeling yet. 
“Carm?”
“Yeah?”
Instead of answering with words, you just reach over, grabbing that beautiful head of hair of his, and you kiss him. He tastes of the cigarette he smoked on his walk to The Bear and the Altoid mint he had later in his office in anticipation of your arrival. You want to memorize each and every part of this: the way he smells, the way he tastes, the way his hands feel on you. He pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you as you continue your passionate make out – your passionate goodbye kiss – in the alleyway behind the restaurant. 
Your kisses begin to slow down, and before you know it, you’re pulling away from him. 
“Text me when you land, okay?” he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes. 
You nod, “Yes. Yeah. I will.”
And you want to turn to go, but you can’t yet, so you add, “Thanks for inviting me out here.”
He laughs dryly, leaving one more kiss on your lips for the road.
“Thanks for coming to see me. I’ll see you soon.”
A few Tuesdays later
It takes exactly five minutes of being back in New York to realize that Chicago is where you need to be. You don’t regret asking for time to think, but you almost felt silly to worry that you wouldn’t come to this conclusion. You have to go back: to the restaurant, to purpose, to Carmy.
You let yourself think through every little detail, and in each scenario, you know that Chicago is where you’re supposed to be. It had, afterall, been everything you’d felt you were missing. 
Your heart was there, and for once, you were going to let yourself follow it. 
You’d just needed some time to let your head and your heart catch up – get on the same page – and wrapping things up in New York gave you that time to get clear that this was your next step. 
Not that you mind letting the man you adored and some very hot sex cloud your judgment. 
It takes a few weeks, but you and Carmy text every day, even on the busy days. Some days you text a lot, and some it’s just a few exchanges: a ‘good morning’ text, a ‘thinking of you,’ and a ‘goodnight’ text when he’s wrapped up at the restaurant. But it doesn’t bother you. You know what it’s like. Other days, you’re able to sneak in a phone call… maybe even a FaceTime… and if you’re really lucky, you get to talk for hours before either of you realize it’s two in the morning and you should’ve been asleep a long time ago.
People are always coming and going in New York City. It’s why it’s not hard to find a sublet for your apartment, and once you’ve set the ball in motion, it feels impossible to backtrack. After you find the subletter, you tell the restaurant that you’re not coming back and they’re not happy with your decision. You tell them you’re moving to Chicago and only a few people left on staff understand why. Your friends who know you and Carmy aren’t surprised – just as you expected – and by the end of your happy hour catch up, they’re halfway to booking you a ticket to Chicago for that night.
Your parents on the other hand are less than ecstatic. They have more questions, more hesitations, and they want to make sure you’re thinking things through. You tell them that you have, that you’ve combed through every possible scenario, and each time you come to the conclusion that this is what you have to do. 
But they’re happy you’re happy. They say they’ve never seen you like this and you agree. You’ve never felt this way before either. 
You’ve got to stay just a little longer – make sure you can get all your shit sold or moved. Because you’re a responsible adult even when you hate being a responsible adult. It takes a few more days to get an available U-Haul, and you’re all packed up. You’d called Carmy earlier to tell him, but he’s not answering his phone. Sydney hadn’t been in touch either, so you figured they were slammed at the restaurant.
Holy shit. This is really happening, you think to yourself. 
With one foot over the ledge already, you’re off. 
Wednesday, again.
You’ve set him up so well that if he blows it, you’re gonna be pissed. All he has to do is be his normal, annoying, crass self. 
C’mon, Richie, you think to yourself, pleading with the gods that this goes the way you hope it will. 
As you’d told him your plan, he seemed more than happy to oblige. Just rile him up a little just to make the surprise that much better. Richie wouldn’t miss out on an opportunity like that, would he? You can hear shouting coming from the kitchen, and can tell your plan has been set in motion.
“Richie, what the fuck are you talking about? They said what? Who?” Carmy asks, frustratedly.
Yesterday’s dinner service was a shitshow. It’d been slower for lunch this afternoon, and he berates himself for being naive enough to think that he could catch his breath today. The last thing he needed after yesterday was some food critic coming into his restaurant to pick apart all of their hard work. 
“I don’t know, cousin,” Richie shouts back defensively, as if he has no other volume level than that one. “I don’t know if she’s a fuckin’ food critic or not but she sounded like one. Somethin’ about an overseasoned juice or whatever the fuck!” “Jus,” Carmy corrects. “It’s pronounced, ‘zjhoo,’ fucko. Not ‘juice.’ How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Yeah, yeah, fuck if I care,” Richie mutters. “All I’m saying is you should go out there and give the pompous jack hole a piece of your mind.”
“Alright, if it’s going to get you off my back, I’ll do it!” Carmy snaps, having had enough of Richie’s shouting. “Just tell me where she’s sitting so I know who to talk to.”
“At the bar. Christ,” Richie sighs, removing himself from the conversation entirely as he steps away from Carmy. 
Carmy sighs in frustration. He removes his apron before hanging it on one of the wall hooks, then makes his way through the swinging doors that lead to the dining area. It’s still slow, even after the small lunch peak they’d just experienced, and there’s only one woman sitting at the bar. 
You.
It’s then the Carmy realizes he’s been set up. This was all just an act to get him out here – out to the front of house. His breath catches in his throat as he sees you sitting at the bar of his restaurant. You lock eyes with him, and he’s suddenly feeling much more nervous than he previously was. 
“Surprise,” is all you manage to get out, half apologetically.
He makes his way to the open side of the bar, stepping around it so that he can stand on the same side as you. 
“Hey,” he says, even though he’s practically speechless. 
“So uh…” he stammers nervously. Out of all the things he could say to you all he can think of is, “What’s this I hear about an overseasoned jus?” 
You shrug, a devious smile on your face and a sense of mischief in your eyes, “Well I had to come up with something that’d get your attention.”
“It worked. Consider it gotten,” he nods, a blush running all the way down his neck. “Wh-, What’re you doing here?”
He doesn't mean for it to sound so abrupt, but what he really wants to ask is: what does this mean?
You wait, taking half of a beat. 
“I… heard you might be hiring another pastry chef to… you know… help out around here,” you reply, nodding towards the kitchen. Carmy has no idea how you’re playing it so cool, and you’re not sure how you are either. 
“I-, I’d have to talk to Marcus first,” he stammers, matter of factly. His head is spinning, and he can’t breathe, in a good way this time. He can’t believe you’re here and half expects to wake up and realize he’s only dreaming. 
“Of course,” you nod in agreement. 
You pause again, wondering if he’s surprised in a bad way.
“I uh… I called,” you offer up, almost as an apology. 
“We’ve been slammed,” Carmy replies, taking a step closer to you. “And I passed the fuck out last night after service. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay! I-, I figured…” you chuckle, beginning to explain yourself. “I just wanted you to know that-, I mean the rental company had a last minute opening and it was gonna take a few more weeks to get another a U-Haul if I didn’t-. I didn’t intend on making this like… you know this big surprise or anything…”
“... but then I saw Richie first and uh, well, I couldn’t help fucking with you a little bit.”
He laughs, shaking his head at you, “So this was a set up?”
“Oh yeah.”
You stand up, out of the bar chair, taking a step towards him. You look around, noticing that the restaurant is mostly empty, save for a couple in a booth over by the window. 
“You never answered my question. About you. Being here,” Carmy starts, redirecting the conversation back to you. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up – needs you to say you’re here for good before he lets himself feel all of this excitement that’s bubbling up in his body.
“Right. I just came here to tell you that uh, I found someone to take over my lease in New York,” you start, seeing Carmy’s eyes light up. 
God, you’ve missed the way he looks at you. 
“And the urban garden I've been volunteering with… they got me connected with a spot here. Keep my head out of my ass,” you continue, eliciting another laugh from Carmy at your crude comment. 
“Natalie’s-, she and Pete are gonna help find a place too.”
You take another step towards him. 
“You talked to Natalie?” he asks, surprised. 
And he, towards you. 
You shrug, playfully teasing him, “She picks up her phone.”
“Right,” Carmy says shyly. 
If he had picked up his phone you would’ve told him that you were coming and he’s not sure what he would have liked more: knowing ahead of time, or this surprise. Fuck it. He doesn’t care how it happened. He’s just glad he gets to have you.
“I… had a lot of time to think on the drive and-,” you tell him.
“Uh oh,” he interjects, playfully. “That’s never good.”
You shake your head with a laugh, “Will you just shut up and let me get through this?”
He concedes to you, a soft smile on his face as he waits for what you’re going to say next, as you continue your whole boombox over head, throwing stones at the window love confession thing.
“I was thinking that maybe I’d stick around for a while… get a cat or something to keep me company on the days we just can’t stand each other,” you say. 
It’s not what he’s expecting to hear but he understands what you’re really saying. You want to be here. With him. You want to plant roots. 
With him. 
“A cat?” he questions.
“Well, yeah neither of us have time for a dog. We’re both gonna be too busy with the restaurant,” you answer, continuing this scenario you’ve got in your head.
“We?” 
“We.”
Another step. 
He waits for you to say more, but you both understand that anything else would be overcomplicating it. And suddenly you’re standing so close to each other that you’re grateful that there’s only two other people in this restaurant. 
“Does this mean-?” he begins to ask, trailing off toward the end. He looks down at the floor, wondering why he feels so shy. 
“That I packed all my shit up to move here? Yeah,” you reply, confirming his assumptions about where this was going. “When I got back, it took me about five minutes to realize that what I’ve been looking for-, I had it. For a week. Here.”
He looks back up from the floor, to you, his blue eyes staring into your soul. 
You take a pause once more, mustering up all the courage in your body to say what you need to say next. 
“I want to be here, Car. With you. If the offer still stands.” 
He looks at you, you speechless, because he can’t believe this is real. 
But this is real. You’re not dreaming, he reminds himself.
He opens his mouth to say something and all that comes out is, “You hungry?” And you’re shaking your head and laughing, hopelessly in love with the man standing mere inches away from you who can barely get out the words he needs to tell you how he feels. 
“Because I’m sure you’ve had a long trip and I can-,” he continues to ramble, his face inches away from yours.
“God, I fuckin’ love you,” you blurt out, impulsively closing the gap between the two of you. You press your lips to his, giving him the most passionate kiss you’ve perhaps given anyone, and he kisses you back.
Because he loves you too. 
And he never wants to let you go ever again. 
Your kiss is suddenly interrupted by the sounds of voices, cheers, and a few claps, splitting the two of you apart. You both turn to find the entire staff of The Bear, crowded around the door that leads to the kitchen, and peeking out. Tina’s got a proud smile on her face, while Richie is most certainly the one clapping. Marcus is saying an ‘oh shit’ to Sydney while she’s practically squealing at the two of you. 
You and Carmy exchange a look. He looks away, his face turning redder by the second, as you laugh. 
“I called it! What did I say? Did I say three weeks? I think I fuckin' said three weeks." Richie cries out in celebration, his fist pumping into the air in triumph, earning a groan of disappointment from Gary.
"Pay up, fuckos!"
“Wait, what?” Carmy asks, his brows knitted together in confusion. 
Sydney rolls her eyes, beginning to pull a few ten dollar bills out of her apron as Tina mutters an insult in Spanish
“You guys were-,” you start, searching the faces of your future colleagues.
“Betting on how long it would take for you to come back? Yes, chef. Yes we were,” Marcus answers, cheekily. “I said two weeks. Syd put her money on a month, but Richie said three.”
“I just meant that it’s not that easy to move! Not that you wouldn’t come back,” Sydney adds, justifying her guesstimate.
“I said she’d be back in a week,” Tina chimes in.  
“It was clear to us you’d be back. We just didn’t know when,” Gary informs, leaning up against the bar. 
“Well, that’s news to me,” you laugh, shooting Carmy a look that says ‘did you know about this?’
He shakes his head ‘no.’
“You two are also idiots. That was also clear to all of us,” Tina points out, earning a laugh from you and Sydney. 
“Never even cleared your work station, chef,” Marcus adds, nodding back towards the kitchen. “You can uh-, come join us when you’re ready.”
You watch as Marcus disappears, back into the kitchen, hearing the sound or Richie’s more than jovial chants that he was right. Tina’s yelling at him in Spanish and Sydney’s telling Richie to shut the fuck up. 
You’ve missed this. 
“I uh… gotta get back to work,” Carmy says, pulling you out of your head. The blush permeating his face has spread all the way down to his neck and he's not sure how he's supposed to continue the day like this. “Gotta wrap up lunch and prep for dinner.” But he gets to do it with you, so he's gonna figure it the fuck out.
He turns to you, holding out his hand. 
“You comin’ or what?”
You’re beaming as you take his hand, your heart pounding out of your chest. It feels like a beginning of something you don't have the words for, and you're very much okay with that. You're ready to throw caution to the wind and fearlessly dive in -- to take a leap -- as long as you get to do it with him too.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
the end.
taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha
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alisblackgf · 1 year
Note
Hey! I saw you were taking requests so I was wondering if you could do a Chishiya x Reader where they both make it out of the Borderlands but Reader is the only one who remembers everything? That would be awesome if you could
ooh angst! i love it i love it (dw i gave it a bittersweet ending, no permanent heartbreak here!)
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pairing(s): chishiya shuntaro x gn!reader
trigger warnings: mentions of injuries
summary: you make it out of the borderlands only to find yourself in a hospital, and you're the only one who remembers anything about what had happened.
taglist: @grievedeeply @brxght-world
(i made an aib taglist just in case you want to be notified of my most recent works!)
(to apply, click here!)
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you sat against a random car next to an injured chishiya, who had been shot twice. the first time being when niragi proposed a shootout, the second time being when he took a bullet for usagi. 
after all of the time you spent in the borderlands getting to know and love him, you knew it was very uncharacteristic. that was the point of it, though. he wanted to do something uncharacteristic. it was really sudden, maybe the last game he played inspired him.
after all of the time he spent in the borderlands getting to know and love you, he knew you’d try and scavenge for things to help his wounds. however, he insisted you didn’t and asked you to stay by his side.
so you did just that. the both of you silently watched the sky as the multicolored fireworks went off. a feminine voice speaks, telling all survivors to decide if they would like to be permanent residents in the land.
“what do you think, chishiya?” you asked him.
“i don’t want it, i think. what about you?” he turned his head to face you, but you were still facing the sky.
“i’ll do whatever you’d like. we’re in this together,” you answered gently. you rested your head on his.
“and what will you do?” chishiya asked, seemingly to no one as it took a while for someone to speak.
“i don’t want it,” niragi stated. you hummed a bit at his response.
“are you guys truly ready to return to the real world?” you asked.
“i guess we’ll find out,” your boyfriend replied. you reached for his free hand and held it tight, waiting in anticipation to go back to the place you called home.
~~~
you woke up in a bright room with white lights, and it hurt your eyes. you blinked hard in an attempt to quickly adjust to the sudden shift of lighting. 
“you’re awake.”
you turned your head in the direction of the soft voice. it was a doctor.
“am i...in a hospital?” you asked weakly.
“yes, dear. i was just checking your status. clearly, you’re alive and conscious. do you need anything?”
“no, i think i’m okay.”
“do you remember anything?” the doctor asked.
before you could process the question, all your memories of what had happened came flooding back. it made your head ache.
“yeah..i do. i..i remember seeing these big fireworks and then the explosion.”
“those weren’t fireworks, dear. it was a meteorite.”
you hummed.
“i also remember...being in the borderlands.”
“the what?”
“you weren’t there?”
the doctor shook her head in response.
“huh. how long was i out for?” you questioned
“well, your heart stopped for an entire minute.”
“a minute? the borderlands didn’t last for a minute..” you whispered.
then you remembered him. your boyfriend, chishiya.
“chishiya! chishiya shuntaro! where is he?”
“he was issued into the hospital around the same time as you. why do you ask?”
“is he okay? can i see him?”
“well, i did see him on his way to the vending machines, but i’m not sure if you should-”
“i’m fine, look!” you eagerly got out of your hospital bed and walked around your room. you limped a little which didn’t go unnoticed by your doctor.
“you’re limping, i’ll get you a cane and then you can-”
“please, i need to see him now.”
your doctor sighed and let you wander off to find your lover.
~~~
after asking multiple people for directions, you finally made it to the vending machines. and there he was. he had his back facing you as he was getting water.
he looked much better than he did when you last saw him. he was able to walk and move. you were so happy to see him alive and well.
“excuse me? chishiya shuntaro?” 
upon hearing his name, he turned around to face you. you walked a little bit closer to him with your limp evident. while you closed a little bit of space between you two, he assessed you. you looked so familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.
“you look familiar. do i know you?” he asked.
and just like that, your heart shattered.
“you..don’t know who i am?”
he could sense the hurt in your voice, which made his heart twinge. he didn’t understand why seeing you upset made him upset if he didn’t even know you. but you knew him, and you knew his name. maybe you could explain where you two met. this thought intrigued him, so he made the ultimate choice to get to know you.
“no. but maybe if we talk more i’ll remember.” he looked outside and raised his eyebrow slightly. “it looks nice outside, would you like to take a walk together?”
your hurt expression was replaced by a slightly happier one.
“sure. that’d be nice.”
he noticed your limp earlier on, and allowed you to use him for support as you guys made your way outside.
halfway out the door, you thought about how if chishiya didn’t remember you, then he probably didn’t remember the borderlands either. which means he doesn’t remember the trauma and suffering he was put through. if that was the case, then you didn’t mind getting to know him all over again.
maybe this fresh start was a blessing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
sighsigh i haven’t written anything in a while so excuse this mess pls i will get better i swear
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thesargasmicgoddess · 8 months
Text
Today, I say goodbye to England...
**warning: emotions and ramblings ahead. 😆
I'm toasting the end of what I'm fondly calling my "2023 World Tour" 😆 I've been home for exactly 7 days since the end of May. I've traveled over 25000 miles over 7 weeks to Asia and England. I've packed and unpacked over 20 times and have been on countless planes, trains, and automobiles.
This last week, I've been overwhelmed with emotions I can't quite fully place yet--but they all seemingly revolve around an aching theme of feeling bittersweet about new and old experiences and longings.
(Well, THAT was a plot twist I didn't expect on this trip. 😂)
There are certain growths that can only be experienced through pushing beyond comfort zones. I was, surprisingly, stronger, less introverted, and more flexible than I ever expected. There were challenges and new things: the nostalgia of old friends and old haunts; the paying of respects to those that are no longer with us; the visiting of those I grew up with; the first time meeting of a longtime online friend.
As exciting as all of this travel has been, I'm ready for home. Maybe it's the absence of routine and home comforts, or maybe it's the mental shifts required for traveling this long and traveling alone, but I seem to be more emotionally vulnerable during this last week. That bittersweet feeling I've had all week hasn't wanted to let up, and I've been trying to chase down all the reasons behind this feeling.
Visiting places that had helped shape the person I am today, 22 years ago, is in itself, bittersweet. I remember 20 year old me thinking about the passions of the future and yearning for more. I've changed quite a bit, yet the buildings and memories remain. It is an odd feeling of time flying by, yet standing still.
I've pondered a lot about the magic of connections on this trip, juxtaposed with the blessed angst of being someone who feels too much. Every touch, every step, every memory, every feel--I want to capture it all like lightning in a bottle, yet it's almost too much to take in all at once some days. I tell myself to breathe, but sometimes I can't quite catch my breath because I feel so much. Wanting to live a full life can be quite overwhelming for introverted souls who feel too much, but I am so blessed to have the fortitude and opportunities to live fully--albeit sometimes a bit crazily 😆
When you think about the growth of a person throughout their lifetime and the range of intense emotions, experiences, thoughts--it's really quite amazing.
I know my blog hasn't exactly been on "fun smut" brand this last week, but I've always been authentic here. And what has been authentic this week has been....well...a lot of writing, emotions, and processing. I believe in balance-- and I believe that to each irreverent light fun side, there is a darker, more soulful, extremely sensitive side lurking right beneath the surface. I've definitely been more of the latter this last week.
If you've read this far, thank you. This was a needed catharsis for me and a step in processing everything.
So, where to go from here?
I'm not sure. It will take me a minute to mentally and emotionally decompress, unpack, and process all the experiences I've had over the last 2 months. My posts have always been mood-dependent and my moods have been all over the place so......stay tuned 😆😂
Since I can't do anything in a normal, typical fashion--I just have to go with the flow and say cheers to adventures and unexpected soul-searching vacations. I will still take living passionately and deeply over feeling nothing at all most days....
But a break for the rest of today might be a good idea. Or else I'm drinking on the plane.😂
After all this rambling, The Corpus Clock and all that it represents seems appropriate for this post 😂
Onward...
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ofstoriesandstardust · 4 months
Text
right here, right now (b.r.b.)
or: Before they were Rebel and Rooster, they were just two best friends who had no idea how much was about to change.
like father, like daughter
warnings: bittersweet melancholy, they have an almost moment
word count: 1k
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“but in 2,123 hours a bend in the universe/is gonna make everything/in our whole world change”
He shushes you as you climb up the ladder, your laughter spilling out into the night anyways. 
“You’re gonna get us into trouble.” He whispers as you pull yourself up the ladder. “You know they hate it when we come up here.” 
You can’t help the laughter bubbling out of you as you look at him pull himself over the top of the ladder and over to where you’re seated. “Always talking about the weight limit and rickety wood, yeah, I know.” 
He offers you a smile as you kick your legs out to dangle over the edge of the treehouse. “Did you have a good time tonight?” 
You shrug, propping your arms up as you look out over the lawn. You can still hear the laughter of your uncles from inside the Bradshaw home, the warm yellow lights making the backyard glow. “Did you?” 
He nods, his head once, his dimples popping out as he thinks. “Would’ve been nice to win the big game, end my senior year on a high note but-” He cuts himself, shrugging. “It was just good to see everyone regardless.” 
You nod, letting your chin fall to rest on your arms. “You played good.” 
“Thanks.” 
It falls silent between the two of you as you look out into the night, knowing that in just a few weeks, Bradley would graduate. 
The Naval Academy’s resounding No had been a rejection felt by all, a bitter sting Bradley carried with him everyday. 
Still, you knew he had a bright future, and you knew that when he left for UVA, he may go and never look back. 
You knew that tonight, all of your honorary uncles in town to watch Bradley for the big game, the dinner and party celebrating him and his graduation, was one of the last times your family would be together like this. 
“What’re you thinking about?” He asks softly. 
You shrug, not moving your head from where it’s watching the stars. “Just... taking it all in, you know? Before I have to say goodbye to you.”
He punches your shoulder lightly. “Hey, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 
You shrug. “I know.” 
You didn’t know. 
Bradley had been your best friend since diapers, an unbeatable team, but a nagging feeling had been growing in your stomach that everything was about to change in ways you didn’t even realize. 
“I’m just gonna miss you, you know? Don’t forget about wittle ol’ me, okay?” You joke, finally turning to look at him. 
“How could I?” He whispers, scooching impossibly closer to you so that your knees knock together. “I’m not going anywhere. Even if I'm not here, I’ll still be here.” 
You sigh, glancing away to the twinkling lights above. “I know. But I mean, I’m really going to miss you B. Like, who is supposed to hang out with me at school and who am I going to do homework with and go out to ice cream with all the time?” You look at him once more, even though his eyes never left yours. “You’re my best friend in the whole world, Bradley. We do everything together; we always have. What am I supposed to do without you?” 
His hand comes to rest on the back of your neck, moving some hair out of your face before he gently wipes a stray tear away. His hand is soft, warm, comforting. “Hey, hey, hey, please don’t cry. You can still call me whenever you want and- and you can even visit me at UVA for spring break if Mav’ll let you. I’ll be visiting every chance I get and who knows, maybe we’ll be here in a year celebrating your graduation and you’ll be joining me at UVA.” 
You can do nothing but give him a soft, albeit watery, smile. You want to cling to the hope that he has, that this will all turn out okay, but it’s hard to look past the gnawing feeling in your stomach that this might be the last time it was all like this. 
He’s watching you carefully, unable to look away before he lets out a breath, hand still resting on the back of your neck. “Hey, um, I- there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” 
“Yeah?” You raise your head slightly but not enough to displace Bradley’s hand. 
His eyes flicker down to your lips, a movement that makes you swallow hard. 
“Yeah, I’ve um- I’ve been thinking, about all of this and I um-”
“Hey, what are the two of you doing up there?” 
It’s Slider’s voice as the patio light flickers to life, your uncle stepping out onto the cement. 
Bradley’s hand falls from your neck in an instant, leaving you the degrees cooler than you had been just moments before. 
“The two of you aren’t supposed to be up there, you know this.” He walks over to the tree with his hands on his hips, squinting up at you. “That wood is extraordinarily old and could break with too much weight. I don’t particularly feel like going to the ER tonight and I don’t think you would either, so-” He waves a hand, motioning for the both of you to climb down. 
Bradley heaves a sigh before lifting himself up, moving to climb down. He’s gotten two rungs down before he glances back up at you. “You coming?” 
You swallow, glancing at him before looking back at the stars. 
“I’ll get your Dad, kid.” Slider threatens and when you make no move to climb down, he turns. “Pete!” 
Your Dad appears in your line of vision a few minutes later, Bradley and Slider both having gone back inside. 
He gives you an understanding smile before tipping his head to the sliding glass door. “Come on kid, come on in. We’re gonna have dessert here in a little.” 
“Five more minutes?” 
He sighs, sticking his hand in his pockets. “Kiddo-”
“Please?” 
He sighs again, before bowing his head. That’s how you know you’ve won, because he’s never been able to say no to you. “Five minutes, no more. You hear me?” 
“Five minutes.” You confirm, before he goes back inside. 
You swallow around the lump in your throat that's been growing. 
You can’t help that hope that five more minutes between you and the stars, up here where it feels like nothing can touch you, might alleviate the heaviness in your heart, the fear of what’s to come. 
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galebrainrot2024 · 2 months
Text
Gale Seeking Godhood Part V/5 PATH 1
Oh boy. Well. I wanted to release all three paths simultaneously but that may take some time so I'll release the paths as they are completed. This will be the only part for Path 1.
Paths 2 & 3 may be 1-2 parts depending on my brain.
Summary: Continuation of Gale seeking the crown post elder brain, final chapter for Path 1.
Editing to say that I do tweak and edit as I read and re-read these pieces and this makes my heart ache every time I reach the end. Anyway, I'm not crying. Just some dust.
Path 1
You approach Shadowheart with a warm smile and embrace her - “Gods, it’s been to long,” you breathe out as she hugs you. She smells nice - fresh and you can’t help but to inhale the rosewater and lavender from her skin when you embrace. 
“Did you just sniff me?” 
“Sorry,” you blush, caught. “I guess I’m not used to everyone being so… clean? It’s nice, for the record,” You rub the back of your neck and feel redness simmer beneath your cheeks. 
Her melodic laugh echos in your ears as she says, “I suppose I should take the compliment. Although, sometimes I miss the smell of fresh mud on my skin,” she muses. 
“Don’t tell me you miss sleeping in the dirt too?” You raise your eyebrows and smile. 
She takes your hands in hers, “You know, I actually have found a spot that I frequent when I’m feeling nostalgic.” Giving your hand a gentle squeeze she says, “I’ve missed you. Now tell me, what have you been up to!” 
You feel the looming dread fill your belly and Shadowheart recognizes the look, graciously stepping in, “You don’t have to share, if you don’t want. I can’t imagine it has been easy… I can’t say I’m entirely surprised, although I had my hopes. Do you think…” her unfinished question lingers in the air between the two of you. 
Do you think he will come? 
You aren’t sure. You had tried not to think about it leading up to the party, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots when you received the invitation - from Wither’s, of all people - or unpeople? 
Shadowheart reads the look in your eyes and wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you against her as she leads you towards the rest of your companions. The air is full of merriment, music, and laughter - sounds that your soul has been desperately aching for. “I’ll let you wallow more later - for now, it’s time to celebrate, everyone has been expecting you.” And as she ushers you towards your companions you are filled with the sounds of their ‘whoops’ and ‘there they are!’ and fond slaps on the back, hugs, and the like. Astarion hands you a glass of something strong. 
“Here, you’ll need it - in case, well, you know.” He gives you a wink and brushes his shoulders off giving a little bow. “I am surprised - I thought out of any one of us I’d be the one most likely to go off the rails not - ugh - Gale.” Your cheeks burn and Astarion gestures as if to say ‘be serious’, “Oh come now. What use is being a 200 year old Vampire Spawn if I can’t have a bit of fun at others’ expense?”
You glower at him and his eyes twinkle playfully as he pulls you into a hug. “Oh! I have missed you, you know. Maybe you’ll let me have a nibble later? I do miss that taste.. like a strong, bittersweet brandy..” You see his mouth begin to water and you shimmy from his grasp. 
“We’ll see,” You smirk and he pouts as if hurt and goes to mingle elsewhere. 
“Hey you!” Karlach comes bounding over and gestures wildly, “I can’t believe the bastard did it! I’m here!” 
“It wouldn’t be a party without our liveliest companion!” Minsc bellows and shakes you by your shoulders from behind. “Good to see you, my friend.” 
Everyone’s attention shifts as soon as you hear a familiar and warm voice. 
He’s here. 
***
You feel trapped in the amber of the moment when you see him descend into the party. The familiar, tell-tale marking of the orb is no longer etched into his skin and his eyes dart around nervously as he brushes at his clothes. Tara moseys beside him. 
You step behind Minsc a bit as if to hide and try to distract yourself with the countless treats spread before you although you are anything but hungry. The moment you look up you see his eyes locked on you. You forget yourself as the rush of feeling seizes you, each emotion convoluted and overwhelming.
Two months. It was two months since you told him you never wanted to see him again. Now, as he stood not fifty feet looking ashamed and remorseful, you feel your heart wrench. He cautiously makes his way over to you, his hands mussing nervously in his hair.
“Hi.“ Gale says breathlessly. “Can I - Can we talk?” He shifts uncomfortably on his feet and gazes at you expectantly. 
“Lead the way,” you gesture and you feel your companions' watchful gaze as you and Gale begin to walk towards the water. 
***
As you sit on the embankment the sounds of the water lapping against the shore fills the cool night air. It smells like fresh grass and rain, the stars littering the sky with their wonder. 
“Thank you,” Gale begins, breaking the charged silence. “For taking the time to speak with me, I mean. I wasn’t sure if… well, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with me at all. I don’t deserve your kindness, nor your ear, and I am grateful for it all the same.” 
You sit silently and watch him. You feel a heaviness that stirs in your belly, the unconditional love you once felt melded into something else, it made your heart sick. As his brown eyes meet yours you can see the infinite possibilities of what could have been. You do not owe him this, not your time nor energy, but you give it generously. A part of you still longs for him. Gale reaches his hand out as if to brush your hair and recoils his hand, looking towards the water. 
“What happened?” You ask timidly. “That’s why you came, is it not?” 
“Well…” he pauses to look at you, “I needed to see you. I - I know that it’s selfish, especially after what you said.” He sighs and brushes his bottom lip with his thumb. You feel your heart pang, the nervous habit one you find endearing. “Where to begin?” He asks this sincerely and you see his the wheels of his mind churn as he struggles to find the words. 
“I suppose it came down to this: when you left, Tara took her leave shortly after.” He inhales and his voice trembles, “The loneliness… I could hardly bear it. I poured all my time, energy into deciphering the last words of the Netherese text in my isolation. At least that would give me purpose, I thought. I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep. Godhood was… it was everything. Time seemed to hardly pass at all. Once I cracked the cipher to ascend I - ” he stops and rubs his temples with one hand. 
You and he sit in a stilled quiet for a moment before he is able to continue. The sounds of the party filter through the air to you as you wait with bated breath. 
“I met Mystra in the Astral Plane. I knew I could still surrender the crown to her, to rid the world of this wickedness. To at last be cured of the orb. I was so close…” The way Gale says this is almost regretful, as if a part of him still wishes he became a God. “I became the inheritor of Karsus’ power at last. When Mystra asked my intentions I was fully prepared to take the Weave from her. And then,“ He looks at you, his eyes pleading and he covers one of your hands with his. You shudder, surprised by how his touch still ignites you. “And then I thought of you. Of Tara. My mother. Of all I’d given up in pursuit of my own blind ambition, of everyone I had hurt in the process. I realized I was no better than Mystra, treating those around me like amusements to be eventually discarded. Oh… I was so ashamed. I still am.” Gale brings your hand to his lips and brushes the back of it. You feel heat spread through you, although it is tainted by sadness. “Mystra granted me renewed life - to become her chosen once more, to remove the blight in my chest. My life my own again at last.” 
He turns fully to face you, on his knees, taking both of your hands. “I’m so sorry, for everything. For what I put you through… I doubt I’ll ever forgive myself for it and know it is selfish to ask for yours. I am not deserving of it and I will not claim otherwise. Although it may be beyond a shadow of a hope - is there - would you ever consider us again?” His eyes flash with terror and anticipation. “I know I am hardly worthy of your love..” His last words hang in the air and you consider them thoughtfully. 
When you break the silence, you feel your hands become cold and sweaty within his, your heart thrumming wildly before you speak. “You were already worthy of it, Gale. You were worthy until you decided to put your ambition over the ones you claimed to love.” Your voice is somber and you avert your gaze as his eyes seem to sear into you. You feel Gale’s hands stiffen and you see his expression fall. You look at him then, the bittersweetness of your voice wrapping Gale in a cocoon. “Gods, I wish it were different. Sometimes… I like to imagine that it is, in a different space, in another time, where we end up happily, spending our mornings lazily and exploring one another… where you chose me.” You see the tears form in his eyes, unaware of the ones that begin to roll down your cheeks until you taste their saltiness on your lips. “But that life is not meant for us here. Not now. Not after everything.” 
“I see,” his voice quakes and you brush your fingers against Gale’s cheeks and turn his face to look at you. 
“I will always love you, even if we are not together. Sometimes, though, when something is lost, despite our best intentions… that chapter must close indefinitely.” 
Gale closes his eyes and brings your hands to his lips again, knowing this will be the last time he will taste your skin and experience the feeling of your bodies intimate in this way. You feel him try to drink every part of you in, committing this moment to memory. You sigh, relishing in the moment although your heart feels shattered and ruined beyond mending. His final words float through the chambers of your mind as you gaze into his eyes, “If I cannot spend eternity with you.. I’ll settle for this evening.” 
You allow the silence to settle over you then, enjoying Gale’s company for one last time. 
36 notes · View notes
char-lie-spirals · 13 days
Note
I would like to learn about the rest of the aus you mentioned here:3
Okay okay so!! I talked about some of them, so I'll just put the entire list under the cut and either link to my previous responses or cook something up! And what I cook up can possibly include a snippet of my writing too :]
Also since this is a lot of AUs/WIPs I'll try to be brief, but feel free to ask about more details on them!
Terminus' Ritual
This is an AU I've had for like a year now, and it answers a very simple question - What if the End HAD a ritual? That its avatars complete between mag 159 and mag 160? Simple answer - Zombies. And also some deaths getting reversed because getting a quick taste of it should make people more scared, and it's hard to keep a zombie apocalypse going with too few people. (This doesn't match the End's values, I Know.)
I have some notes on different characters' situations, who comes back etc etc but honestly the storyline I focused on the most is Oliver seeking shelter in Graham's old flat only for Graham to also be there, Pretty Confused about the passage of time between his death and now. :]
Graham gets spat out AU
Sasha gets replaced, NotSasha picks up the tape recorder and goes to dispose of the tape. The Artifact Storage is silent, but not empty, as a man who doesn't recall his own name wakes up on the floor. Okay this already sounds a bit like a snippet so I guess you can have a proper one too:
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It was all pointless, you only suffered longer -- but is that truly pointless?
This one is a WIP in which I just wanted to explore the idea that the only reason Graham lived for so long was because he was scared that entire time, to the point the NotThem wasn't in much of a rush. It's pretty angsty, but can be bittersweet too if you look at it at the right angle and I am a simple man with a lot of hope in my heart. I've not been making much progress with it, and I'm not sure if I'll end it on the title-question and leave it up for the reader to decide, or if I'll provide my own answer, but let me say here: I don't think it was pointless. Not to me.
Michael(s) experience confusion
Already talked about this one here!
Graham Lives WITHOUT Becoming
Graham survives the events of MAG 003 because Oliver gets there in time to help him, and the two of them try to navigate the aftermath together. They go through many ups and downs, Oliver ends up becoming an Avatar himself, but Graham just kinda,, doesn't?? It just never happens. No fear claims him. At this point a lot of people are convinced he's an Avatar because of how his life is intertwined with the Fears but nope. Just some guy who can bluff pretty decently, gets lucky a lot, and loves his End-Avatar fiance a whole bunch :] (yes they're engaged now)
Graham Folger Lives because The Eye Is A Backseat Gamer
One of my Eye Graham AUs :] The main one, you could say! In this one, The Eye backseat-games his MAG 003 experience, and he Knows where to hide, what to do, and how to survive. After that, he goes on to start working at the institute, becomes an Archival Assistant after Jon's promotion, and goes through the horrors! I also talked about it Ages ago, right here- hold on that was in MAY???? 2023????? 10 months ago???? This is messed up.
Anyway! here's a little something I have written about it so far :]
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DeathNote intro
Just me trying to explore how Graham and Oliver might've met, grown closer, gotten together and stayed together for 6 years :] No clue if I'll ever publish this and if so, if I'll use it as a backstory/background for one of my AUs or as its own stand-alone thing? But yeah it's just the two of them growing closer and falling in love :] You can have this snippet of it, too! It's their literal first meeting!
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Antique seller Graham
Talked about this one here! I will probably do so again soon! But you can also have a snippet, since I guess writing all this really put me in a snippet mood! This is from this AU's version of Amy's statement :D
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Cockroach Graham AU
I don't think I need to elaborate.
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heartfeltcierra · 1 year
Text
Ephemeral- Rosinante Donquixote (Corazon) X Female reader (Soulmate AU)
Word count 4.3K
3rd person POV
Masterlist
AN-I love this man so much :') But I won't lie, I broke my own heart writing this.
Contents- Soulmate AU (First words tattoo), reader is a marine, reader had a DF
!!!Spoiler warning!!! Major character death and spoilers for Law's backstory.
Warnings- Heavy angst, bittersweet ending, smoking, mentions of fire, cussing, character death, hints at starving and lack of self care, violence.
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 The cold crimson snow below Cora was nothing compared to the fierce warmth he felt in his heart. His mission to stop his brother may have failed, but at least one of his goals was achieved. Gotta live a little bit longer. His breaths were becoming shorter and shorter as he clung onto his last strand of life. I can’t let my power wear off, not yet. 
 His eyes flutter in a battle to stay  conscious. Not yet, not until Law is free… Despite his best efforts his eyes closed, but before he could slip into the afterlife a sharp pain blossomed in his right forearm. The pain was enough for him to reopen his eyes. Y/N.. With his remaining life force he used his left hand to pull up his sleeve revealing the sentence on his right arm. “Hey blondie, what time is it and why are you on fire?” A weak smile forms on his  lips, remembering the first time he heard those words. 
(Flashback)
 “Do you think I have enough time to get one last smoke in before this starts?” Rosinante dug through his pockets, looking for his trusty fix.
 “You do, Commander, just be quick about it.” A sense of pride swelled in Rosi’s chest, hearing his soon to be new title come from the very man he looked up to. He nodded and started walking out but was stopped when a large hand rested on his shoulder.. “Rosinante..” The dark haired man smiled. “ I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you, son.”
 “I’m honored. Thank you Fleet Admiral Sengoku.” The blonde had to suppress a huge smile as his father figure praised him.
 “You're welcome, and you better get going if you want that smoke.” Sengoku motioned to the large stage where high ranking Navy officers were gathering. 
 “Right, I’ll be quick.”
 Rosinante walked outside of the Navy’s banquet hall with a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips as he tried to find a secluded place to smoke. Eventually he found an empty balcony that had a perfect view of the city below. Flames erupted from the lighter as he took a deep inhale of smoke. The nicotine instantly soothed his built up nerves.
 He knew being promoted to a commander meant more work and even more responsibility. But it also gave him more power and more control, two things he was going to need if he wanted to reach his end goal. Taking his older brother, Doflamingo, down. 
 He took a deep inhale of smoke as his fathers last moments and words echo his mind. He was only 8 years old when Doflamingo shot and killed their father. It was in that moment bloodshed he realized just how far gone his brother was. And judging from the recent reports surrounding his evil doings  and his bounty that increases almost daily, Doflamingo was completely irredeemable at this point. 
 The cigarette in between his lips had reached its end and considering the stress thinking about his brother caused, a second one was well deserved. “I still have a few years to plan, until then stay cool.” He brought the lighter up to the fresh cigarette. “I better hurry or Sengoku will kill m-” 
 Rosi tensed up as he noticed a flash of violet in the distance.What the hell was that? He had never seen anything like it before. Maybe in a different situation he would find it mesmerizing or even cool. But it was heading straight for the navy banquet hall, more specifically it looked like it was coming straight at him and fast. Too fast for him to react.
 The sparking ball of violet was closing in and he couldn’t make his body move a muscle. It was so close he could hear the strange almost electrical noise it emitted. Are we under attack? The anomaly was now floating in the air a few feet away from the balcony's edge. The breath in his throat hitched as the ball shot up ever so slightly into the air, the electrical noise it made was much louder and it appeared to be getting bigger. 
 Rosi snapped out of his trance and took a defensive position, only to find himself back in a trace as the ball of violet sparks turned into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her (H/C) hair fluttered behind her as she gracefully descended from the air and onto the balcony’s railing. All the worry in him disappeared seeing the familiar outfit she wore..
 “Hey blondie, what time is it and why are you on fire?” His forearm began to tingle. She’s..
 “You're an angel…” The words left Rosi’s mouth before he could process  what she said. A small gasp left the girl as she looked down at her left wrist. 
 “Your..” Her (E/C) eyes met his red ones. She held up her wrist to show the words he had just spoken, tattooed into her skin. “You're my soulmate….. And you're still on fire.” The girl jumped from the railing, taking her navy coat off in the process. She gave him a sweet, innocent smile before wacking the fire out with her coat, doing so with such a brute force it sent Rosi to the ground. “There we go, crisis averted.” She bent down slightly and offered her hand to him.
 “I appreciate the gesture, but I’m tall and hea- '' His words were lost in his throat as the girl took the hand he was waving in the air and pulled him up almost effortlessly. 
 “Tall yes.” She took a moment to look up at him. “Heavy no, or at least not for a woman as strong as me.” For a few moments they just stared at each other smiling without a care in the world. That is until Rosi remembered he had somewhere to be.
 “Can we meet up and talk later? I’m about to get promoted at the ceremony.” 
 “You are?” His soulmate jumped a little in excitement causing a blush to form on Rosi’s face. She is so cute. “That makes two of us! We better hurry!” She grabbed his hand and started to run towards the banquet hall.
 Once the pair reached the venue, they had to go their separate way thanks to the seating arrangement. But that didn’t stop Rosi from keeping an eye on her in admiration. She was a couple seats away sitting next to vice admiral Garp. Rosinante leaned back in his chair a little more to see she had the same idea as him. She smiled at him and was about to mouth something to him, that was until Vice Admiral Garp leaned back, stretching his bulking body. Damn that old man.
 “The ceremony will be starting now.” Vice Admiral Tsuru stood at the stage's podium. “First we will be naming the new Commanders.” One by one she called the men and women up to the stage until.. “Donquixote Rosinante.” Rosi nervously walked onto the stage (Cautiously so he didn't trip and embarrass himself in front of his new found soul mate.) “On behalf of the Navy, we congratulate you and thank you for your continued service.” He bent down so Tsuru could place a pin onto his navy uniform, making him officially a commander. He looked to the crowd to see his soulmate standing up and clapping with a smile that made his heart swell. He gave her a sheepish wave before finding his seat.
 “Up next we will be naming the new vice admiral who will be taking over our G-7 unit.” Tsuru announced. “L/N F/N, please come to the stage.” Rosi watched in Awe as his soulmate, who he now knows as Y/N, walked up to the stage with power in each of her steps. “All of navy HQ would like to congratulate you on your promotion and continued service.”  Rosi had stars in his eyes as she was given the white overcoat reserved only for the vice admirals..
 “THAT’S MY GIRL.” A gruff voice yelled out. Rosi turned to see Garp hysterically crying. “If only my son would have been smart like her.” He mumbled out the last part.
 “That concludes today's ceremony. Good luck to you all in your new positions.” Tsuru walked away from the stage and people began to file out of the room. He looked up to see Y/N walking towards him with a smile on her face. 
 “Are you okay?” Y/N looked down at her soulmate who had fallen back in his chair thanks to the shock.
 “I am.” He smiled up at her. “I am more than okay.I just can’t believe my soulmate is someone so cool.” 
 “Thanks.” A blush formed on her cheeks at Rosi’s complement.
 “So.. Umm.. We have a lot to talk about huh?” Rosinante stood up and ran a hand through his blonde locks in an attempt to calm down.
 “That we do.” She shook her head in agreement. “I know just the place we can go!” She grabbed his hand  and led him out of the banquet hall. 
 ~~~~
 “This is it!” Y/N fell back onto the field of flowers that overlooked the sea. “What do you think, Rosinante?” 
 “It’s beautiful.” Rosi sat down beside her. But It doesn't compare to you. “ And you can just call me Rosi.” 
 “Rosi it is.” She smiled before moving her head to rest in his lap. “So question. Just how tall are you?” 
 “Nine foot seven..” Her eyes widened hearing how tall her soulmate was. “And a half.”
 “And a half!” Rosi laughed at her shocked face. “You have me beat, I’m (Height).”
 “I do. But I think you may have me beat in strength, little Miss Vice Admiral.” His hands dug through his jacket until he pulled out his cigarettes. “Do you mind?” 
 “Not at all, actually here.” Y/N brought her hand up to the end of his cigarette. A familiar violet colored spark came from her fingertip, lighting his cigarette. “You’ll never have to buy a lighter again as long as I’m around.” She said proudly.
 “Thank you.” He took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke away from her. “I’ve been meaning to ask what that power was. Is it a devil fruit?”
 “It sure is.” She stood up from the flower field. “I ate the Plasma-Plasma fruit, making me a plasma woman.” She jumped into the air before turning into the same ball of sparks that had him freaking out hours earlier. He watched as Y/N displayed her powers to him. Seeing her pop up out of nowhere only to turn into a ball of plasma a second later had him in awe. After a few minutes of zipping through the sky she landed right into his lap. Fierce heat traveled to both of their cheeks. “I’m sorry, sometimes I don’t stick the landing.” She gave him a sheepish grin before attempting to crawl away from him.
 “It’s okay..” Rosi brought his arm around her body, urging Y/N closer. “Having you close feels nice.”
 “I couldn't agree with you more.” She brought her head down to rest on his abs. “So question…why were you on fire earlier?”
 “I’m a smoker who Is also really clumsy.” The moment the words left his mouth Y/N jumped  away from his lap. “Y/N are you okay?” She raised an eyebrow at him before motioning to the lit cigarette in his mouth. “OH.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth and waited for it to go out. “You can come back now.” He laughed nervously with an outreached hand, which Y/N gladly took. “But I’m clumsy in other ways too, less dangerous ways.” 
 “Like falling over in your chair?” Y/N looked up at him with a smirk on her face.
 “Bingo.” Rosi wrapped both arms around her before pulling the both of them back to lay on the flower field. “So you know my fun little fact. So tell me one about you?” 
 “Have you ever heard the rumor about the marine who killed a sea king while they were sleepwalking?” 
 “Yes I have.” Rosi had heard plenty of rumors in his rookie years, but this one stood out. It was unforgettable. “Apparently it was a rookie who was on Garp’s fleet. They had a really bad sleep walking habit and from what I heard they sometimes tried to challenge Garp to a duel in that state.” Rosi recalls all of the lore surrounding the mysterious Marine. “But the story goes something like this I think. It was the middle of the night when a huge sea king came out of nowhere and started to attack the ship. Two rookies were on the night watch that night, so they panicked. They went to wake up the crew and met the sleepwalking Marine while doing so. The marine proceeded to walk right towards the towering sea king and looked at it with foggy eyes before knocking it across the ocean with a single kick.” Rosi laughed. “I wish I knew if it was real or not. If it was, I wonder who the guy was?”
 “It wasn’t a guy..” 
 “Huh?”
 “It was a girl..”
 “Really? How do you know?”
 “I know because it was me!” Y/N’s cheery voice mixed with Rosi’s mental image of her taking down a sea king with a single kick. “Ever since that day I tie my foot to my bedpost with a shoe string. Just in case.”..... “Rosi?”...... “Rosi?”
 “Y/N.” Rosi lifted up from the flower field and rummaged around in his pockets. “Here it is!” He pulled out a marker. “Please sign my jacket!” 
 “HUH?” Y/N gave him a confused look. “Sign your jacket? Why?”
 “Because you are the woman, the myth, no… the legend. My soulmate is..” Rosi grabbed her shoulder before lifting her up like she weighed nothing. “The sleepwalking sea king slayer!” He spun her around before they both toppled over laughing.
 “Am I really that popular?” She grabbed the marker that had fallen with them and pulled his coat open to the side. “To my biggest fan~” Y/N signed her name and drew a small doodle of a sea king getting kicked by her. “Here, it’s your turn.” She handed the confused Rosi a marker before laying down with her vice admiral jacket open. “You can draw something on mine too!”
 “Before I do this.” He smoothed the fabric down where he wanted to draw. “I’m not good at drawing. With that being said, any requests?” Y/N Shook her head.
 “Just draw what comes to heart.”
~Flashback end~
 “Y/N. I’m sorry.” Her name left his mouth like a guilty prayer. “Just know I love you so much and I ...” Blood spilled from his lips as he muttered his final words. “I did it. Law is finally free.” 
 And with that, Donquixote Rosinante, the man known as Corazon, took his last breath.
~~~Somewhere out at sea on the G-7’s main ship.~~~
  Y/N sat at her desk filing paperwork and thinking about a certain blonde. She pulled the white coat off and looked at the fading doodle Rosi drew on it all those years ago. It was a simple heart with their initials in it. I miss him
 Y/N sighed playing with the silver chain around her neck. With a gentle tug on the chain she revealed the heart shaped locket he gifted her. She smiled seeing the engraving “You’re an angel.” Y/N clicked the locket open, her smile only grew wider seeing her and Rosinante’s wedding photos. On one side he was holding her up in his arms, and on the other side it was her holding him. A knock at her door pulled her from her romantic reminiscing. 
 “Come in!” She tucked the locket back under her shirt before one of her men walked in.
 “Can you sign off on these documents for me? They are urgent.” The man walked up to the desk and held the stack of  papers out.
 “Can do!” Y/N reached out with her right arm and stopped when a searing pain formed in her forearm. “What the, FUCK.” She yelped while bringing her arm down on the table. 
 “Vice admiral are you okay?!” The man watched as she was unable to form words, instead she slammed her head against the desk and pointed at her right arm. “I understand.” He slowly brought her sleeve up to reveal the cause of the tremendous pain she was in. What she didn’t know, it was only the start. “Vice admiral L/N, I. I think..”
 “What’s wrong?” She brought her head up from the desk and felt her body turn cold. At that moment she recalled something Tsuru had said to her many years ago. “There had been reports in the past of soulmates dying and their last words would show up on their partner in the spot where their first words were”  That explains why she is seeing the words on her right forearm.
 “Y/N, I’m sorry…… Just know I love you so much and I….I did it. Law is finally free.” 
 “Leave.” The man nodded before shuffling out of the room. Y/N looked at the fresh words on her arm. “Rosi.” He can’t be. Her lips trembled as tears began to pour down her face. The pain she felt was beyond what words could describe. She had lost her soulmate, her home, her safety, her comfort, her Rosi. He was gone.
 Her cries could be heard all across the G-7 ship. The men and women aboard the ship held their heads low as their admiral mourned her lost lover. After a week  the cries had turned into sniffles, after a month it was silent. She never came out of the office, none of the food they sent her was ever eaten, and she never spoke more than a few words. She had become an empty shell. 
~~~~
 “Wake up Y/N.” Her eyes opened to a bright blue sky. She slowly lifted off of the ground and looked around. It took her no time to know where she was. The flower field. “You know I fell in love with you that day you brought me here.”
 “Rosi?” She turned and saw nothing. “Rosi, where are you?” She got up and froze when two arms wrapped around her midsection from behind.
 “Y/N.” His grip tightened. “I am so sorry.” She felt something wet at the nape of her neck. “I’ve watched you go through all this torment and I could not take it any longer. .” Her body froze. “I don’t have much time.” 
 “Rosi.” She tried to turn around to see him, but his arms kept her caged in.
 “Not yet love.” His voice was soft and comforting, just the way she remembered. “Y/N I love you and I will always watch over you.” Lips ghosted the crook of her neck. “But you can’t keep going on like this. You're alive but if you keep this up..” His voice cracked.. “Live Y/N, please. Promise me you will.”
 “How can I?” Tears started to stream down her face. 
 “You can because that’s what I want… More than anything..” Y/N’s eyes widened. “There is a time and place for all of us to die, but your time is not now or anytime soon. So angel, would you do me the honors of letting me watch you live, even though I can’t be with you?”
 “It’s funny.” Y/N sniffled. “You're calling me an angel.”
 “I guess we are both angels now… Wait no.” The familiar clumsy panic in his tone brought a bittersweet smile to her face. “You are an angel metaphorically, I am a real angel.” 
 “That you are.” A final tear rolled down her face. “But to answer your question I will.”
 “Good.” A large hand covered her right forearm. “I know this is selfish of me, but I want to kiss you one last time Y/N.”
 “If you're selfish, I’m selfish.” She turned around and jumped into her lover's arms to give him a final kiss. When she pulled back a bright light appeared behind him.
 “I have to go now.” He watched as the smile left Y/N lips. “I need another favor from you.”
 “Anything.”
 “When you think of me.” He grabbed her right arm and planted a kiss right next to his final words. “I want you to always have a smile on your face. Just like this.” Seeing the same goofy smile on his lips , the one  she fell in love caused one of her own to form.
 “I love you forever and always Rosi.”
 “I love you too.” He turned around and started to walk away from her. “I’ll be waiting for you, and you know I’m patient , so there is no need to rush okay?”
 “Okay.”
 “Goodbye for now, my angel.” 
 ~~~~
 She woke up in a daze wondering if what happened was a dream or real. Her fingers hooked around her sleeve, gently pulling it up  to reveal Rosi’s final words to her. But that wasn’t the only thing. Out from the words was a smiley face, one that looked just like his, in the spot he had kissed.
 ~Bonus~
 “Captain Law.” Bepo came running up to his captain who sat on a cargo box. “A vice admiral's ship has been spotted on the other side of the island.” 
 “Go find the others and let them know we are leaving immediately.” Law ordered.
 “Yes sir!” The white bear ran off as Law placed his chin in his hands. Just what I needed.
 “A vice admiral?” Law’s body tensed up. “That sounds serious.” Law slowly turned to his side to see a (H/C) woman sitting on the cargo box right next to one he was on. She was eating a bag of candy and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. “Want some?” She held the bag out to Law.
 “No.” Law raised his eyebrow. “Thanks?” Law got a better look at her and saw what she had on Dammit it all. His tattooed hand reached for his sword.
 “Don’t even think about it.” The woman smirked at Law. “Don’t you have any clue as to who I am?”
 “I don’t..” Law was sweating bullets at this point. “Want to give me a hint?”
 “Have you ever heard of the Marine who killed a sea king while sleep walking?”
 “I have. They called her the Sleepwalking Sea King Slayer.” 
 “How did you know it was a ‘her’?” 
 “What are you getting at?” Something shiny was thrown into Law’s lap. A locket? He clicked it opened. “Wait.” Law stood up and looked at the woman shocked.
 “To answer some of the questions I’m sure you have.” She stood up on the cargo box. “The woman you see before you is indeed the Sleepwalking sea king slayer.” Law looked up at her in shock. “And I’m also Rosi’s wife. Or should I say Cora’s wife.” Law was glad the rest of the crew was gone. A guilt he carried for well over 11 years had bubbled to the surface.
 “I’m sorry, it’s my fault he di-” The woman pulled the boy into a tight hug.
 “Don’t finish that sentence.” She gave him a few pats on the back before pulling away. “Just so I’m clear, I don’t in the slightest, blame you for what happened. And as you can see.” She pulled up her sleeve showing Law the Last words Cora said. “He died happy knowing you were free.” Law sniffled into the sleeve of his hoodie. “I see that you honor his legacy well.” She motioned to jolly Roger on the side of his submarine.
 “He meant everything to me.”
 “You meant just as much to him.” She smiled thinking of all the times he called her in secret to talk about how Law was doing. “I apologize for not coming to see you sooner. I say that like I’m supposed to see you at all.” She laughed. “Here take this. It’s the number to my personal transponder snail. Call me if you ever need to hear a funny story, because when it comes to Cora… Let’s just say I have a bunch.” Law took the paper from her hands and put it in his pocket.
 “Will do.” He smiled. “What’s your name?”
 “The sleepwalking sea king slayer, didn’t I tell you already?” Law rolled his eyes. “It’s Y/N.”
 “Will I ever see you again Y/N?”
 “Well..” She turned around to show the black letter on the jacket. “You better hope and pray you don’t.”
 “Fair enough.”
 “Well it’s been fun talking with you.” She threw Law the now empty candy bag in his hands before walking away. “One more thing.”
 “What’s that?”
“You need to smile more.” The woman gave him a toothy grin and then in the blink of a eye, disappeared.
“I’ll try.”
348 notes · View notes
dragonsrfire · 20 days
Text
THOUGHTS? DEAD POET'S SOCIETY EDITION
Just thoughts I wanted to get out there
So Dead Poet's Society? Right? Now that I think of it was a film that came out when my dad was in his like late teens (technically he was around the same age as some of the cast). And somehow this film - made and released during their time has been one that resonated with the next generation? I am looking at the film and thinking, and I couldn't help but wonder.
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I am not talking specifically about the aesthetic or anything but namely how this one film was definitely not made for my demographic. However - 35 or so years later I read a post here or come across a playlist or an edit or a series of head canons - I see how much this single film has impacted generations who came after.
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I relate to this film on a very personal level (put the shipping factors aside). I remember watching scenes with Neil and I could almost recall having similar conversations in life and I had to take a step back and think as to why I wanted to block this film out for a while. I resonated with Todd as a writer but also as someone who had a very similar experience (shy - lack of confidence - but one who found their people). Other than that there were relationships within the story that made me look back at the ones I have and had and all that I am grateful for.
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Also as a coming of age film I feel like it is one of the most realistic ones out there. The themes and the extremely bittersweet ending are raw and it hit me like a pile of bricks. The fact that they fell apart because of the things they loved - the heart of the group not being there made things drift apart - and those dreamers and poets who speak out are the ones to leave behind a deeply flawed system (and the cause and reason and leaving is depicted in extremely sad ways - they might give up on everything - or be kicked out for what they believed in - or carry extreme guilt for the rest of their lives) - There are those who fall in love and the ones that betray you and all of that can happen in just a few month. Things that took years to build like friendships and fellowships can crumble because of something external and all you believed in might not fix that.
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(Also something weird just jog my memory if I am wrong but throughout the film these three use O Captain, My Captain - and its all in important moments - The last one to use it is Todd - Which I just think just captures his growth - he's taken up the confidence brought by two of his closest friends and a teacher who changed his life for at least a small fraction in time)
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I had a few teachers in my life like Keating. They are the reason I never gave up on writing or doing things I love. They gave me reason to believe that I had something small I could put to use - I had a teacher who taught me at 14 who told me to never give up writing and another teacher who told me to continue writing poetry - another who showed to me that I should continue to fall in love with reading - another who showed me that the world was beyond the academics (as I studied classics - it was far more than that cookie cutter stereotype) - Also Keating as a teacher who actually listens - who is there to guide and help the boxes that literally hold students in uniformity
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I don't know why - and how a film from the past can have such an impact on me in the 21st century - Very few films have impacted me in this manner and most of the films that have impacted me in that way were released in my lifetime. That being said I think myself lucky to have this to go back to. The film is a cathartic ritual of living, laughing in the moment and weeping and crying afterwards.
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October 2023 WOTM: peonierose
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Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @peonierose. We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.
Quick Links:
Tumblr Blog: peonierose Blog Masterlist
How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Peonie or PR is fine 🥰
1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 
Way back when Choices first launched. My first book was The Freshman Series - book 1. It was so fun to play the books and get super excited for new chapters. I was waiting until midnight for new chapters. It was the first time I’ve played an app where I could make decisions and use diamonds for VIP scenes 😍
2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?
I joined the Choices fandom back in 2021. I really missed Open Heart after book 3 ended (and left me wanting more) So I wanted to see if there were any more stories I could binge, and that’s how I stumbled upon Tumblr 🥰
3- How did you pick your blog name? 
It may sound weird but it just came to me. Peonies are my favorite flowers. As soon as I thought peonie I quickly added rose and I was like that sounds so cool and it’s unique which I love 😍 And that’s how peonierose was born. 
4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  
Gosh. This feels like forever ago. When I first came on tumblr I didn’t post or reblog much 😅 (too shy to interact with anyone 🙈)
5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?
It has been 2 years in August this year since I’ve actively started writing fanfic 🥰 (I still can’t believe I actually made the leap and decided to post any of my stories). 
6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?
You’re really going to make me choose? There are so many good ones 😱
I love to write for two of my favorite books which are Nightbound and Open Heart. Those are the ones I feel most connected to 🥰 Though I’d love to venture out and make edits or social media posts for other choices books too. 
7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?
I wrote Robin‘s Tell-All from TNA, and it was the first fic I’ve ever shared. I really wanted to write a story from Robin‘s POV and how all that happened in TNA affected him and all the mistakes he made. 
I wanted to showcase his inner struggle. 
I remember how nervous I was to post something that I’d written. I thought to myself, will people even like my story? And if they do like it, then what? It was a great rush to see the reblogs, and the love for my first-ever posted fic. 
If I could change one thing, it would probably be the moodboard 😅
8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?
That is a tough question, because to me every fic I‘ve written has a special place in my heart. So every story reflects the feelings I’ve felt while writing my story. 
Buuuuut if I had to choose: It would be a tie between By a Landslide (Bryce and Luna), the 3rd chapter of my Nightbound series - Unexpected and Go with the Flow (Luna & Bryce) 
9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?
I actually didn’t think I’m a sucker for you, A Pinch of Pink and Blue…This one‘s for you,  Cinnamon Sugar and Wildflower, to be as well received as they did. 
However, I think Bittersweet Symphony and Losing Game (1 / 4) could use some more love. 
Both stories are amazing and I think you’ll love both my pairings. Luna & Bryce and of course Maxine and Adam. 
10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 
I am by no means a smut writer 😅 Maybe I’ll get there 😅 But I’d go with a mix between angst and fluff. I think a nice balance between these two would be good. 
11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?
Yeah. Tons of times. Take Luna for example. She has anxiety like me, and her appearance, such as her blue-green eyes and dark blonde hair, are like mine. But character wise we’re complete opposites. I wish I’d be more artistic like her 🩷
And Bryce is an Aries like me, and so many things he says or does make me go back, and I’m like, yeah, I would say something like that. Other than that, I’ve learned to give my characters real flaws and make them human, if that makes sense. But it does happen that they end up with character traits that are mine, and then I lean back and realize I’ve given my characters some of my weird and quirky character traits 🤣
12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?
Damn. Umm…I struggle with a lot of things. Finding the right words sometimes because English isn’t my first, not even my second language. I speak six languages, so it's sometimes hard to find the words to describe things. 
Showing, not telling that’s another thing I struggle with. 
That and if I have to keep a deadline to post something 🤣 Because it takes me forever to post anything I’m not 100% behind and happy with. 
13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?
How much time you’ve got? I have over 30 wips, that want some desperate attention, and I always keep adding new wips, whenever something inspires me to write 😅 
I’ve found some new inspo for Somewhere Only We Know 🥰 Apart from that I’d love to take another look at my two AU‘s Amber & my Nightbound series. So we’ll see what wips I can manage to finish 😅 
14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 
Sure. I’d love to get an outside opinion of my work and my characters that are so beloved and close to my heart 🩷
I actually tell people that I write fanfic and original work. And I’ve sent some samples their way and they liked it. Which makes me feel more confident in my writing (not saying it’s perfect, there’s always room for improvement, but it’s getting better). 
As for which story to start? I’d say start with Only Love for Bryce and Luna. That was my first story of them and I consider it their start. 
Then continue with Always & Forever and Go with the Flow. 
Those were my first posted stories about Luna & Bryce and I think you’ll like them. It would give you a good understanding of my storytelling and my characters. 
15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? 
There are a couple of authors I admire - Chloe Neil, Elise Kova, Nalini Singh, Rachel Caine (R.I.), Rebecca Yarros, and many more. They have influenced and shaped my writing, my fantasy world-building, and, of course building my characters. These authors know how to tell great stories, which makes me admire them so much. 
As for fanfic writers who’ve inspired me? I’d love to give a special shoutout to one of my closest friends who’s been my beta reader for almost anything @annieruok She’s an amazing person and writer. Thanks so much for all the times listening to my ramblings about scenes and characters 🩷 
16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 
My Nightbound series hands down. That is a story that really deserves to be on the big screen or as a Netflix show. I’m not picky. 
I’d love to see Grey, Gretel and Hänsel kick some ass. It’s a unique enough story to garner some attention 🥰 I’ve worked really hard to write it and it took me a year to come up with chapters, character names and so forth. 
Also Somewhere Only We Know would be cool to see on the big screen. I’d probably weep from joy if any of my stories were ever developed as a movie or series 🥰🥹
17- Do you write original fiction? 
Yes, I actually do. I have several original works in my Google docs. And just recently, I had an idea for another original story (I don’t feel comfortable sharing it yet) 🥰 But let’s just say it’s fun to come up with the characters and world-building and everything in between. 
18 -  What other hobbies do you have?
Reading books, trying out new recipes in the kitchen. This also reminds me I need to exercise more 🤣 
Taking walks & going shopping. 
Hanging out with friends and binge watching shows and movies on Disney+ and Netflix. Just trying to  enjoy every single moment that every day has to offer 🩷 
19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 
It’s a toss between these three 🥰😍🩷 (What can I say I love pink 🩷 not just because of the new Barbie movie and the pinkmania 🩷) 
20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).
First, I wanted to say thank you to everyone. For being picked as writer of the month is a huge honor 🥰 Thank you to everyone who has ever taken the time to read my stories, reblog them, and leave some unbelievably nice words. 
I’m very grateful that you guys took the time to shower me with love. Sometimes, I wonder what I did to deserve some of your nice words and love. I also wanted to give a special shoutout to some of the people who are very dear to me. 🩷 
Thank you guys for supporting me. Being there for me - through great and not so great times - I‘ll never be able repay your kindness 🩷 You guys make me strive to be a better version of myself and I couldn’t be more happy to call you my friends 🩷
@annieru0k @cariantha @txem @doriopenheart @mysticalgalaxy @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads @heavenssexiestangel @socalwriterbee @secretaryunpaid @ofmischiefandmedicine @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @takemyopenheart @quixoticdreamer16 @princess-geek @eleanorbloom
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minecraftninjerkid · 2 years
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Dark Cacao Cookie x Reader
After his transformation into the berserk form the reader tries to calm him down
This Isn't You
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Pairing: Romance-Established, Dark Cacao Cookie x Reader Cookies in Bond Buff: Dark Cacao Cookie, (Y/N) Cookie, Dark Choco Cookie, Pomegranate Cookie, Caramel Arrow Cookie Warnings: Bittersweet Ending, Mentions of neglect Word Count: 2,241 words Summary: The Dark Cacao royal family, reunited at last...but at what cost? When things are at their worst, can you, the queen, bring your husband back to his senses and help your son see the truth? Scenario: Angst A/N: So this is basically what would happen if there was a certain other party involved in the final showdown in the Black Citadel. Let's see if I can make it believable!
The longer this went on, the more you questioned how it had all come to this. You couldn't quite believe your eyes when you saw your estranged son and your husband fighting each other within the Citadel. Before you knew it, you were between them
"My son!" you pleaded. "Please, stop this madness! You're not the ruthless monster everyone has warned me of...you're my child! Don't do this!"
"Get out of my way!" Dark Choco Cookie warned you. "I am no longer the Cookie you once raised, Mother. Stand back, or you will be hurt."
"You foolish whelp!" Dark Cacao Cookie roared. "You dare come here with that blade drenched in sin and strawberry jam?"
Dark Choco Cookie's blank gaze drifted from you to his father. "You’re more difficult to get rid of than you seem."
"Do you think the spirits of the noble warriors laid to rest here will forgive you?!"
"Hmph. Soon, these 'spirits' will watch me reducing the Dark Cacao Kingdom to ruins. At night beasts will roam freely, and at day nothing but distrust and hatred will fill the air. Give me the Soul Jam embedded into your blade. I will bring that power to much better use,"
"You never cease to disappoint me, Dark Choco Cookie. Malicious creature, your name will never be engraved onto the Altar of the Fallen!"
"I never wished for that anyway. In this kingdom, I knew no love or sweetness but rigid cold! What makes you think I care about you or this forsaken land?!"
GingerBrave stepped in, sensing it was getting too personal. "W-Wait! Let’s talk it over! WITH WORDS!"
"Y-Yeah! Words before swords, you know!" his friend Wizard Cookie agreed, nervous at the sight of such sharp weapons.
"This is between the two of us. Move aside!" Dark Cacao Cookie held his ground. "Go on. Spew another one of your insults."
"The only lessons you’ve taught me are how to survive on my own, and that the weak should give way to the strong," Dark Choco Cookie reminded him. "So just hand over that precious trinket already. I might have been your son, but now I have surpassed your strength. This is my final warning…Father,"
"Don’t you dare call me that with that wicked tongue of yours! If I had known how you would turn out, I would never have let you go after what you did to your homeland! You bring nothing but shame upon me and your mother who baked you into this world!"
"So NOW you find her relevant enough to mention? Of course...only when it conveniences you do you acknowledge Mother's existence,"
"SILENCE! The father’s heart in me showed you the mercy of banishment. And now I am to pay for my softheartedness once more! I have nothing left for the pathetic traitor who has given away the last specks of his pride!"
"Stubborn old fool…! Don't you lie to me! It was Mother who showed me mercy and set me free! And she knows that too! That must be why you hate her, isn't it? Why you have not spoken a word to her since I was gone? Because she dared to show me the compassion that YOU neglected to give!"
You wanted to say he had it wrong. But was it, really? Dark Cacao Cookie had barely said a word to you since Dark Choco Cookie was banished. It was almost as if he truly had lost all his love for you, if it had been there at all.
"Will you still be clawing at that precious sword of yours after your kingdom has fallen?" Dark Choco Cookie continued savagely. "Will you persist even after having slain your own son?! Time to put this miserable charade to an end."
You could've sworn Dark Cacao Cookie stole a glance at you before continuing to press Dark Choco Cookie. "You whelp! Your wicked arrogance knows no bounds! So be it! It’s my life’s greatest regret to have called you my son! Time for me to set things straight!"
"ENOUGH!!"
Your furious roar of anger shook the Citadel hall, making everyone freeze. Even Dark Cacao Cookie was genuinely surprised to see you lose your temper like this.
Your head snapped towards Dark Choco Cookie. "Look at you...you think that sword makes you so strong, but you have learned NOTHING from me!" your face contorted. "You fool! Strength by means of weapons and power only take you halfway! No wonder you are lost..."
Dark Choco Cookie was too stunned to speak as your voice dropped. "Strength. Yes, it was us who taught you to wish for strength, was it not…" you took yourself back down the years. "I remember it as if it were yesterday…I held you in my arms for the very first time, and the millennia-old ridges, the ancient trees, the wolves, and all the warriors chanted their blessings…"
Your head then turned to face your husband. "And we stood together atop the Great Wall overlooking our entire kingdom…hand-in-hand, we promised ourselves to raise a strong, just, and kind warrior. Tell me, My King: what has become of that promise now??"
Dark Cacao Cookie looked as if he wanted to find the words to answer you, yet he couldn't. But Pomegranate Cookie had grown impatient. "Enough with this touching family reunion. I can’t take it anymore."
The twinkling of bells was heard, snapping Dark Choco Cookie out of his thoughts. "Pomegranate Cookie…?!"
"ARGH…!"
Dark Cacao Cookie was suddenly surrounded by a red aura, shrouded in the reflection of the priestess' mirror. "What did you do?!" Dark Choco Cookie demanded.
"You failed your mission again," she replied coldly. "Because of that, you forced my hand. I had to take care of what you couldn’t."
But Dark Cacao Cookie wouldn't go down without a fight. "…Release me…from this sorcery…! You will…never…have me…!"
The stone in the middle of his Grapejam Chocoblade began to glow, and the energy flickered from red to purple, causing Pomegranate Cookie to back away. "What is this? My spell…is getting out of control! Is this…the power of the Soul Jam?"
"Uugh…AAARGH!!!"
"What’s happening with him?!" Licorice Cookie yelped, ducking for cover.
"Stay back! Or we are crumbs!" Pomegranate Cookie warned her teammates.
The Dark Cacao Watchers were pinned to the ground by the shockwaves of energy emanating from their king. "Ugh! Your Majesty…!"
"Your Majesty! Come back to your senses!" Caramel Arrow Cookie tried to call to him. "Do not succumb to their evil sorcery!" But even she could not stay on her feet as Dark Cacao Cookie's form tripled in size and swatted at her. "AAAAAGH!"
"Caramel Arrow Cookie! No!" GingerBrave cried.
You took cover at their side, horrified at the sight before you. "What happened?!"
"Dark Cacao Cookie's gone berserk!" GingerBrave cried. "Pomegranate Cookie tried to cast a spell on him, but something caused it to spiral out of control!"
"Oh no! It's his Soul Jam's light! He must've triggered it!" you pushed your feet to walk towards him, though the overwhelming wind threatened to blow you off your feet. "I'm going to try to calm him down!"
"Well, do it, quick!" Chili Pepper Cookie urged you. "Before he blows us all off the mountain!"
You felt more than a strong wind pushing you as you forced yourself forwards. It felt like there were other emotions amongst that wind: anger, sorrow, resentment, but most of all...regret. Were they his true feelings? Was he using all of these negative emotions to push you away not only emotionally, but now physically as well?
"Your Majesty!" you cried up to him. "I know you're upset! And I know how hard it is to lose the Cookies you love! I went through the same thing when I found out you had been attacked and our son had disappeared!"
"My Queen! Be careful!" Caramel Arrow Cookie warned you as her fellow Watchers helped her up. "Don't get close to him!"
You ignored her as you got closer to your husband. "Things may not ever be the same as they were, but that doesn't change the fact that we're all here, together!"
The creature's furious glare locked onto you, the only Cookie standing before him. His giant black claw rose, ready to finish you off.
"QUEEN (Y/N) COOKIE, NO!!" Caramel Arrow Cookie screamed, but it was too late. The claw came down...
...and froze moments before it sliced you open. You were burrowed in the wisps of Darkness where his chest was, tears running down your face. "...Dark Cacao Cookie, I KNOW this isn't you! It's just a spell! You can beat this! I KNOW you can hear me! I know the Cookie I still love is in there, somewhere! Come back...please."
Something seemed to change in Dark Cacao Cookie once those words were said. "I still love you..."
Wisps of Darkness began flaking off of him, ascending towards the sky. "The spell!" Pomegranate Cookie gasped. "It's...destabilizing...?"
At last, every last bit of it had crumbled away, until all that remained was the king, now hunched over in your embrace. "It is as clear as day now…" Dark Cacao Cookie's voice was quiet as he rested in your arms. "My life’s greatest regret is that I never gave either of you enough…love. I taught our son how to wield the sword, and yet I never taught him why. And you...what I thought was being the stronger Cookie for the both of us was nothing but an excuse to wall in my emotions at your expense, yet you still..." his eyes filled with tears. "I am sorry. This realization was gravely overdue…"
"Dark Cacao Cookie is out of strength!" Pomegranate Cookie was sneaking up on you both. "This is our chance. We have to claim his Soul Jam!"
"The sword…commands me…to attack my parents…?!" Seeing his father and mother reunited, something inside Dark Choco Cookie snapped. "No more…! I will be the sword’s thrall no longer…!"
"Pomegranate Cookie…that’s ENOUGH!"
There was a clang of a sword and a cry of pain. You looked up sharply to see your son standing in front of you, having protected you and Dark Cacao Cookie from Pomegranate Cookie's attack. "AGH! You dare attack me?!" she hissed, her expression full of pure hate. "Are you out of your mind?"
"I understand it now," Dark Choco Cookie was lost in his own thoughts. "All this time I struggled to march on… Despite this path tormenting me more and more with each step. Strength can bring no good if it’s born from the suffering of others. Power…can the power I’ve sought for all my life fill this…this void in my heart?"
He closed his eyes, thinking back to the days when he was freshly-baked, where he snuggled up to you, feeling warm even on the coldest nights. "No, it cannot. It can bring only sorrow and suffering spiraling over and over again. All this time, I was blinded by this lust for power. It has led me astray…led me far off the path shown to me by my father and mother, whom I once adored so greatly…"
Too wounded to fight back, Pomegranate Cookie dragged herself to the safety of the other Cookies of Darkness. "I take it you do not care if the reports of tonight’s events reach Dark Enchantress Cookie?" she growled. "You will profoundly regret your…choice."
"I do not care…" Dark Choco Cookie turned away. "My vision has become clearer now. The Darkness has…lost its grip on my soul. I have no need of this cursed sword anymore. But…it's strange. Like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders...even though nothing remains anymore."
As he walked away, he said one last thing to you. "...Be well, Mother. I will not forget how hard you tried to instill your flame of compassion unto me. I am...sorry I could not be the Cookie you promised to raise."
Your eyes swelled, but you smiled anyway. "You're more of that Cookie now than you ever were before...crumbs and all. I will see you again soon...my son."
With that, Dark Choco Cookie disappeared into the shadows, leaving his parents behind. Dark Cacao Cookie stared at the spot where he once was, then turned to you. "(Y/N) Cookie..." his voice was full of shame. "The way I--if there was only something--my actions put you in a terrible state, and-"
You cut off his apology with a kiss, the first one in many years. GingerBrave's mouth flopped open at the brief glance he got before Caramel Arrow Cookie covered his eyes, though she herself couldn't stop smiling.
"Your loyal subjects are waiting, ready to follow your command," you told him. "It is time for you to return to your Cookies."
Dark Cacao Cookie took your hand and helped you up. "No. It is time for US to return to OUR Cookies. The fight may not be over yet, but we were meant to rule together, as one dough. THAT is why you are queen of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. And that is why I humbly ask for your help in rebuilding our home."
You put your hands on his face, gently bumping your foreheads together, relishing in the affection that had grown stale after so long. The sunlight poured in from the windows, adding to the warmth. You faced the rising sun breaking through the clouds with a smile.
"Spring is coming, my love...a perfect time to start rebuilding."
WOW, this one was long! But, there you have it! A canon scene rewrite with another Cookie! Hope this makes it easier to imagine yourself in the game!
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