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idyllcy · 4 months

Text

a pathological people pleaser

word count: 4.4k

warnings: smut || pt 2 to and i wouldn't marry me either

summary: Jinshi's getting desperate to bed you.

夏

Jinshi contemplates what kind of a ring to get you. He really does. He looks through the designs that had been initially made for your marriage, but he finds inspiration in none of them. You would suit a ring that's crafted with only the finest of materials, not a ring that was just bought from the streets. Though, you had been going out with Maomao more often with some guards to have fun and buy food. At some point, the palace chefs are going to need to learn how to make a roujiamo that tastes like the ones on the street and not the fancy food that you had grown used to having.

He calls Maomao and Gaoshun for help picking a ring, but ultimately neither of them come up with something that would suit you. (He even asks his mother, but she is no help either.)

So, he rots in the confinement of your shared office, head spinning as he sketches more and more ring designs. The one of the current empress is nice, but it is not something of your style. The one that his mother had received was pretty as well, but not something that he desired to put on you. Perhaps a simple jade ring of your size would do better, but it seemed too plain compared to the kind of treatment he was supposed to give you. A simple jade ring would be fitting for him, but not necessarily for you. He would give you gold, but he wasn't quite sure what kind of a ring design would fit you.

He's gonna age from this, he swears.

Yet, he continues sketching at it between his paperwork, frowning at how big of a demand there are for eunuchs. The lower ranking concubines were still desperate, he finds. Perhaps especially with the announcement of his marriage... not announcement. He was married, but with the revealing of his marriage, it seems some concubines are getting desperate for some sexual release. Jinshi... really is no better than they are. He finds that he can't sit still around you these days.

He's... desperate. Yeah. Desperate is the right word.

"Rotting in here again?"

"You know, I'm starting to think you're actually Diu from your actions." Jinshi grumbles from his desk, shoving the paper with the ring designs to the side, catching your eye.

"To be fair, I am him, and he is me." You pick up the paper, tilting your head at the ring designs. "Designing rings for me? How sweet of you. Why not just use one from the treasury?"

"You deserve a new one." He groans. "I wanted to design one for you."

"Why not just gold?" You hum. "And then thread a pearl and jade orb through them."

"A jade ring would be nice." Jinshi hums, staring up at the pin in your hair. "To match your pin."

"Whatever you design." You hum. "I'm sure I will be satisfied."

"It has to be perfect." He mopes. "Or else I will not forgive myself."

"That's rather harsh on yourself." You hum, reaching for his brush as you sketch a design. "I liked the ring presented to the empress."

"The blue gem?"

You tap your chin. "Though, the gold isn't my favorite combination." You finish your sketch, noting down the color scheme, and Jinshi blinks at the choice.

"You just want a plain jade ring?"

"For the wedding ring." You blink. "The westerners are quite intriguing with the tales they tell. The women there boast many rings."

"You went to the west?"

You shrug. "A season is plenty of time to explore."

"She went to a port city." Maomao speaks up from the door. "Gaoshun is asking for the report."

"I sent it to him already?" You raise a brow.

"The one regarding the ceremony in the winter."

"Ah." Jinshi's fingers slide down the stack, pulling out a booklet between all of it. "Here."

Maomao nods, pausing as she catches wind of the ring design. "How about a ring with the royal family's seal?"

"I'm not becoming crown prince." Jinshi grimaces.

"I am sure the emperor would allow it regardless."

"I don't want a ring like that." You pause. "though, it would be quite a statement to wear it on the pinky."

"You want a divorce?!" Jinshi cries, heartbroken as Maomao leaves the room with the report.

"No." You shrug. "I might if you keep putting off the concubines' requests."

Jinshi jumps in his skin as he goes back to the papers, and you glance at the ring you've drawn.

"Carve a jade ring with a phoenix for our wedding ring. I do not desire gold." You hum. "And you are to have a dragon on yours."

Jinshi looks up at you, eyes gentle as he drinks in your figure under the setting sun, summer wind rustling the leaves outside, heat not too much to handle either. There is something delicate and breathless about you to him. You are worth so much, yet he had to spend such little time compared to the age of the universe to prove that you are his only one. Time is suck a fickle thing when it came to the clouds and sky. He supposes that's more a reason to treat you well and make up for time lost.

"Is that all you want?"

"What else would I want?"

"How about a jade pendant?"

"With the royal family's seal carved into it?"

Jinshi laughs. "Why not my last name?"

"Sure, pretty prince."

Jinshi flushes.

秋

You have tea with Ah-Duo a lot during fall. The weather cools bit by bit, and you sit in your yard, peeling the sugarcane as she looks through the files, humming at your writing, each stroke nice and clean. She puts the papers down, a maid rushing over to take them to your study, and she glances at the sickle and cane in your hand. It seems you have found new talents outside of the palace walls. It fills her with a sense of warmth, almost.

"How do you feel about the new eunuchs?" She hums.

"Some of them are rather attractive." You hum, not paying much mind as you cut off a piece for the lady.

"Is that so? Yue would have a heart attack if he heard you say that." She takes the piece, popping it in her mouth as she chews, humming. "It's sweet. I like it."

"That's good." You laugh. "I had the chefs just hand me whichever one." You continue to hack at the crop with the sickle. "Jinshi would be fine."

"I doubt it." She hums, spitting out the dry cane into the bowl prepared beforehand by the maids. "He is rather protective when it comes to things he desires... you included."

"It is only recently that he has become protective over me." You hum, putting a piece into your own mouth as you chew. She was right. It is sweet. "Which is also why he refuses to become the imperial prince."

"You would make a great empress."

"I would." You chuckle. "I have been raise for the role, after all."

"Though, this is better." She smiles. "You are happier like this."

"Oh, well as empress, I suppose I would not do too much. Jinshi, though? That poor man."

"He would have quite the work set out for him." She hums. "Though, you would be there to support him."

"I suppose." You hum. "It would be better had you been ascended to the position of empress."

"What is done is done." She hums. "I find it more amusing that your talk with the emperor of letting me visit worked."

You snort. "I saw the chance and took it. It would be a shame to not host you at least once in a house that is now warm."

"I suppose so." She smiles. "Does it not hurt to cut the sugarcane yourself?"

"It does not." You hum. "My hands are stained with sugar, and I work up a good sweat. I find it fun."

"Fun?"

You snap the plant in half, handing the peeled half to Ah-Duo as you continue with the unpeeled half.

She bites it, humming. "It is good. Is there a reason to cut it? I no longer remember."

"It's so you can get the most of it." You offer her one of the knives on the table. "Be careful not to cut yourself."

"I will." She nods. "Have you learned anything else?"

"A foreigner showed me how to peel a pomegranate." You pause. "Oh, and I have developed a strange talent for peeling oranges. It is incredible how clean it can peel with the right tools."

She nods, popping a piece into her mouth.

"How are the children?" You tilt your head, cutting another piece to put in the central bowl.

"They are faring well." She hums. "They are children, after all."

"I suppose." You mumble. "Jinshi went a little insane on their family."

"Not to mention he had full right, holding the army seal." She chuckles. "I heard from the maids that the imperial court threw a fit upon the realization that you had been holding onto something so precious and had just casually given it to Jinshi in order to save a maid."

"Not just any maid at the time." You snort. "Jinshi's dear maid."

"Of course." She smiles. "Though, he had been in love you. He had simply pushed it down."

"Like father like son, I suppose." You mumble. "Has the emperor visited?"

"Not yet." She pauses. "Is he planning so?"

You turn your head at the sound of footsteps.

"Jinshi." You hum, smiling.

He steps over to press his lips to your forehead, smiling fondly at your juice-stained hands, only freezing when he remembers his mother is with you. "...niang."

Ah-Duo waives her hand. "How cute."

Jinshi flushes, and you chuckle, pinching his cheek.

"You needed something?"

"The emperor is coming for a visit, niang." He pauses. "To our residence. He will be visiting the tearoom."

You raise a brow at Jinshi.

Jinshi shakes his head at you.

"Very well." You grin, shaking Jinshi off of you as you peel the sugarcane with eerie accuracy, cutting the rest into bits for the late consort to enjoy. "You can take the bowl."

"None for me?" Jinshi pouts.

"The emperor matters more in this case." You shrug. "I shall send some maids to accompany you."

"Alone will be fine." Ah-Duo nods. "Thank you."

You smile as she leaves, and Jinshi takes her spot, pouting at the sugarcane she had left behind.

"I want a bite."

You take the plant from him, cutting pieces off for him, watching as he chews, reaching for his throat as he threatens to swallow. This fucking dumbass.

You pry his jaw open, ignoring the fact that your hands probably taste like some sort of sugar, ordering him to spit it out. He listens, dry cane spat into the bowl you've held before his mouth, and his spit slides down with hit, the poor male panting like some bitch in heat. You let go of his mouth, exhaling as you mumble. "Good boy."

The words ring in Jinshi's head and shoot straight to his dick, and he licks your fingers unconsciously, eyes half-lidded as he tastes the sugar on them. Wait.

fuck.

He was NOT supposed to do that.

You freeze as something brushes your knee, and you stare into Jinshi's eyes as he stares back up at you, blinking rapidly, praying you wouldn't point it out. The two of you meet eyes, and you back up, sitting back down as the two of you wait for the other to speak up. Jinshi refuses to speak up.

You break the silence. "I'll wait."

"Thank you." He mumbles, cheeks red in embarrassment as he rushes off to somewhere private.

This is awful.

冬

some days you wonder how long Jinshi went without sexual release.

It's a strange thought, really. So, when you and Jinshi are wedded and you're waiting for him on the wedding night in your shared bed, you don't know what to think. Alright, wedded is the wrong word. The two of you are rewedded, and you are dressed in the robes the late empress had prepared for the two of you to sleep together in. You think it's too little, but apparently it's supposed to rile Jinshi up. Speaking of Jinshi, you wonder how he's dealt with getting boners. He... can't sleep with someone because he's a eunuch, but he can't just leave himself hard forever.

Jinshi stares at you from the door as you're lost in thought.

Skin. You're showing skin. He feels rabid at the sight— as though he were some carnivore in the wild, grew before his eyes. He feels as though he would go feral if he were to get his hands on you, so he stands there, collecting himself. He can't scare you off. He finally has you in his hands again, this time treating you properly, and he can't just scare you off because he's wanted to touch you for ages but couldn't.

"Jinshi?" You tilt your head at him, and he musters up a smile.

"I don't want to scare you." He pauses. "But I fear the maids did a little too good of a job with you."

He offers you a drink, and the two of you down it before you lick your lips to speak up.

"Why? You want to defile me?" You lean forward, almost as if to emphasize your point, and Jinshi flushes red.

"I really wonder how you learned to flirt like that when you were Diu." Jinshi sits next to you, fingers pushing your hair back as he leans in. "This is fine, right?"

"Would be funnier if I were Diu right n-" You're cut off as Jinshi presses his lips to have you shut up. He loves you, but god, were you infuriating sometimes. It was as though the winter and spring without him had changed you into a different person— not that he minded. You're charming no matter how you act or react. Your hair scrunches between his palm and fingers, and you tilt your head to give him better access, passion and longing staining your face as he presses his lips to yours and his fingers bloody with something he's wanted forever. Some sort of twisted passion beats from his chest to yours, a whimper spilling past his lips as you thread your fingers through his hair.

He only pulls away when you soften against him, chest pressed to his as he feels your muscles tensing from the lack of breath.

"You still with me?" He moves his hand out, your hair slipping between his fingers as you hang your head to breathe.

"I sure wish you weren't good at everything you did," You keep your head hung, unraveling his robes with ease, palming his cock through the fabric wrapped around his waist. Jinshi's hips shift slightly for more friction, and your hand presses down on his hipbone, forcing him to still as you pull on the strand to free him, licking your lips at his length. "I don't think you're going to fit, pretty boy."

"We'll make it fit." He hisses out as you let the spit on your tongue roll onto the tip of his cock, smearing the precum with your saliva, your fingers smooth against his length as you spread it. Jinshi whimpers as you do, the ring around your finger cool against his skin, and you lean in to stare up at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip as your hand speeds up. Jinshi whimpers, hand flying to wrap around your wrist and hold you still, and you tilt your head, yelping as he takes your lips pushing you back into the mattress. You lean into the kiss as he tugs on the bow, string coming out and top falling off with ease as his fingers brush your tits, thumb pressed to your nipple, humming into your mouth at the feeling of it hard. "Let me take care of you tonight." He huffs, pulling from you as he forces your tits up with his hands, pinching your nipple to catch a wince from you.

"Mean." You pout, no real annoyance on your face, and Jinshi busies himself with your chest, lips pressing a kiss to the meat of your chest, biting down— almost as though to mark you as his territory. It irks him some days that the maids still have lingering crushes on you from when you were Diu. So, his bites trail up from your chest to your neck, canines crazing over your pulse point as he bites down, hands sliding down to hold your waist as you crane your neck and whimper. Jinshi leans to force his chest to yours, and your fingers curl uncomfortably next to you as he sucks on your neck, purple blooming across your skin wherever his lips were.

"You're so pretty." Jinshi mumbles, finally pulling his lips off of you with a pop, staring down at you as you're suddenly aware that you are bare. You try to hide yourself but Jinshi makes work of his hands swiftly, holding your wrists together as he rolls his hips against yours experimentally. "I wonder how much of my reading is going to pay off."

"Studying through indecent literature? How sinful of you." You arch your back as he pulls your undergarments off, spreading your legs slightly as he slides his index finger down your slit, taking note of the slick threatening to spill out.

"I'd say this is worse, though." He slides a finger into you with ease, and you whimper as he curls it, nails slightly grazing your walls, making you gasp. "You sound so sinful like this. I sure hope you didn't let any other man see you like this."

"And if I did?"

"Then I'd suppose I'd just have to ruin their life." Jinshi straightens his middle finger as he curls his index out of you, sliding both into you at once. You shift slightly at the stretch. Jinshi curses under his breath at how tight you are. He doesn't want to break you your first night. So, he spreads his fingers in you slightly, thumb on your clit as he tries to loosen you. Instead, you flutter around him, only a light gasp freeing from your lips as he furrows his brows. He spreads his fingers, trying to make space for a third and get a reaction out of you. Instead, you don't react, simply shifting your hips to accommodate the stretch from his fingers.

"Am I bad?" He pouts, thumb finding your clit.

"No." You breathe, squirming from his touch.

"Am I average?"

"Jinshi, I have no idea. This is as much of my first time as it is yours." Your wrists fight against the grip of his hand, and he lets them go, lowering his face to your pussy instead, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he pulls you up. You back arches dramatically as he wraps his arms around your thighs, and Jinshi presses his tongue flat against your cunt, licking up as you jolt. He watches as your pussy flutters around nothing, and he slides his tongue in, moaning into your against as he tastes you. So this is what you taste like— some mixture of sin and lust, nectar that would put even the sweetest of peaches to shame. It would drive Jinshi to madness, he supposes.

Your fingers grasp at the pillow above your head, whimpering with each flex of Jinshi's tongue, and his fingers dig into your thighs, earning a squeal from your lips as you feel something tighten in your stomach. Your eyes widen as your nails dig into the sheets and your back arches impossibly more, tears in the corner of your eyes as Jinshi sucks at your orgasm, ignoring the mess of slick sliding down his chin and splattering onto the sheets. You turn red in embarrassment at the mess, but Jinshi pays it no mind, continuing to lap at your pussy, eyes digging into yours as he puts on a show for you. You look away from his eyes, opting to make a mess on his tongue instead, eyes rolled to the back of your head as a second orgasm crashes upon you. Jinshi drinks it up just as eagerly as the last, eyes half-lidded as

Your legs shake as Jinshi lets you down, fingers wiping the slick from his face as he pumps himself with it, and then sliding his tip beneath the hood of your clit to further coat his dick in your cum. You shift against his cock, grinding lightly into him as he chuckles. "Patience, beloved."

"I'd say you're worse than me." You heave, walls fluttering around Jinshi's length as he slides in. He notices the way your skin lifts with him inside of you, and he presses down on the bulge, blinking slowly. You gasp, stomach flexing out of instinct, pussy clenching around Jinshi with a hiss. Jinshi stays still, thumb brushing your clit to incite a reaction from you, earning him a lewd whimper. The sound shoots straight to his cock, head spinning as he slides his palm up your abdomen to your chest, pinching your nipple as he swallows.

"This is fine, right?"

"Insecure?" You roll your hips in affirmation. "I wouldn't have married you or let you catch me if it wasn't."

"Tease." He grumbles, taking your legs and folding them to your shoulders, forcing himself further into you. You moan, clenching around him as he moves, holding you down by the hips as he slams into you with each thrust, gasps slipping past your lips and colors in your vision as he moves. Flowers blossom in your lungs as you try to catch your breath, head spinning deliciously at the taste of Jinshi's lips on yours, a light fragrance from the rice wine he had taken mixing with the one on your lips, and you moan into his mouth, squirming from his touch. Your legs relax over his shoulders as he presses into you, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs, hair sliding off his shoulders to cage you in as you whimper.

The wind rustles the trees outside as you cum around Jinshi the first time, brows knit together and eyes closed as your face twists from the unfamiliar sensation, head thrown back and lips parting once the crash ended, and Jinshi stills, hand reaching to brush your hair to the side, cupping your face with his hand. "You alright?"

"Felt weird." You mumble. "Did you..?"

"No." Jinshi hums. "Would you like me to? Inside?"

"I don't mind." You whisper.

"Alright," He starts moving again, focusing on himself as your legs slide off his shoulders and fall into the mattress, hooking behind his pelvis as he thrusts, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pistons into you, your breath caught in your throat as you see white and stars, drool threatening to leak down your chin and choke you with your head thrown back and muscles tense. Jinshi pants into your ear as he feels himself get close, pulsing and ebbing inside of you with each roll of his hips, your name spilling past his lips in some sort of raw desperation and begging, only spilling into you once you call his name back through your cloudy haze, white painting your walls as white fills your vision, the same white visible in the air on the snowy trees.

His breath mixes with yours as he rests his forehead on yours, bare skin pressed to yours, sweat and cum mixing with your own, the two of you merged as one. In the distant past, you loved him until it physically destroyed you, and in the distant future he will love you until he is stuck in the same destruction that had dragged you away from him. Only then would he forgive himself, lips spreading into a gentle smile, eyes staring into yours as yours are closed, catching your breath as your chest rises and falls, vine of hickeys and bruises trailing down from your neck to your waist. Your walls flutter around him as you recover from another orgasm, skin flushed like peonies as Jinshi tilts his head to press a kiss to your shoulder.

"Still with me?" He presses his palm to your cheek, palm brushing your skin.

"Yes." You pant, grimacing at the squelch that sounds when he pulls out of you.

"I wonder if we'll be with child."

"I doubt it's this easy." You mumble, lashes fluttering. "Would you want one?"

"Up to you." He mumbles, reaching to the side to pour himself another glass of wine. "We do not have to worry about succession either."

"Oh, I've never been so thankful to have not ended up where I was supposed to." You sigh in relief.

"You do not want one?"

"Not my priority." You hum. "Unless you wish for one."

"You are my priority." Jinshi hums, offering you a glass. "Another?"

"No." You roll onto your stomach to stretch your back. "We have plenty of time as well."

"I suppose." Jinshi hums, holding his hand out for yours.

You give him your right hand, and he pouts.

"Your left. The ring."

You free your arm and hold it out, and Jinshi kisses your knuckles gently, eyes closed as he hums contently.

"We match." He smiles, lips curled into a gentle smile, eyes full of a warmth you had forgotten he was capable of. You smile, a laugh bubbling out of your chest as he fiddles with your fingers, some sort of domestic ambiance filling the room. And just like that, your anxieties fade away, and a smile makes way on your face.

"I love you." He hums, lips pressed to your forehead as he lays next to you, still holding your hand, his ring brushing against yours.

"I love you too." and you close your eyes, body relaxing into his, heartbeat one below the missing sun.

#jinshi x reader #☾.fics #the apothecary diaries #the apothecary diaries x reader #jinshi #reader insert #kusuriya x reader #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto x reader #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto #☾.nsfw

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riot-ghost · 6 months

Text

Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

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snoringkitty1 · 1 month

Text

Aventurine boyfriend Headcanons

TW: Fluff, not proofread, Mildly suggestive content. Enjoy <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

Aventurine at the beginning of your relationship is a flirty bastard, he'll tease you to high hell and leave you high and dry for his own amusement.

There is 0 initial affection, he's only in it for his entertainment or because he has something to gamble or get from you.

Kisses you with his eyes open, atleast at the start.

But gradually, when you realizes you won't be leaving because of his lack of effort, he might just soften up and start to let his guard down a little.

Though of course this is after a while, but you'll start to see the more vulnerable and faint side to him.

He'll become more affectionate gradually the more he begins to trust you with his feelings, though, it still might take a while. Patience is key.

He's still flirty no doubt, but now there's actually feelings and meaning to his words, and they aren't bluffs anymore.

His sense of fashion may or may not rub off on you..aka he forces you to wear matching clothes, it makes him feel special.

"Do i really need to where this..? Matching outfits are so tacky." You grumbled and adjusted the hat on your head before sighing and taking it off, running your fingers along the rim and raising a brow. "Well, you don't need to, but i would love you more if you did." He joked and fixed a few details on your jacket before taking the hat from your hands and setting it on your head. "You don't love me enough already?" You pouted and looked up at him. He smiled and shook his head, pulling you close for a kiss, his hands holding tight onto your waist as he trapped you in a kiss. "I love you~" He cooed softly and leaned back, "Some matching clothes won't change that." he assured and rubbed your cheek before stepping back and putting his hands in his pockets, "now~ shall we?"

The king of shopping dates, if you don't like shopping though, then the two of you will probably be having at home dates most of the time.

But don't think for a second he isn't buying the most delectable (and expensive) food he can find, because to him, if its clothes, food, hair, nails, you name it. He thinks you're a worthy investment (he just likes to spend money on you.)

Speaking of giving presents, thats simply his love language, because i reckon he feels like if he gives enough, then he won't have to worry about you leaving him.

That being said, he'll need a bunch of reassurance to stop giving random super expensive presents. He'll still give you some regardless but he'll tone it down significantly.

He comes off as the kind of guy who only gives or takes longer kisses, to me atleast.

He might use this to his advantage if he perhaps gets jealous, which i think happens pretty often.

But i think there's also a chance of him just absolutely demolishing you once you two are home behind closed doors.

Switch energy, but can and will top when he feels like it.

He'll let you decide the pace though, he doesn't want intimate moments to feel transactional.

Afterwards, i Dunno i feel like he'd just fall asleep with you, then take of you the next morning.

You rolled away onto your stomach..or tried to, the tight grip of a certain blonde kept you from moving too far away. When you let out an uncomfortable grunt though, Aventurine was quick to let go and sit up to check on you. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, smiling a little before closing them again, "I'm fine, i'm fine.." you mumbled softly, but that didn't deter him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek before getting up, you opened your eyes and sat up on your elbows to watch him, he disappeared into the closet briefly and returned with one of his shirts. "Here you go Darling~" he cooed softly and held the shirt out from you, his messy bed head framed his face nicely. "ah..thank you-" you smiled and put it on before flopping back again. "Anything else i can get you? I can order food, or make bre-" He paused when you pulled him close all of a sudden. "Just cuddle with me for a little bit.." You muttered softly, and He nodded, pulling you close again..and like that, you two were cozy and asleep in minutes.

Thanks for reading.

#fluff #boyfriend #headcanon #honkai star rail #x reader #hsr x reader #Aventurine #Aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr x you #hsr aventurine #hsr #penacony #star rail #fanfiction #Comfort

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walpu · 2 months

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I'm coming at you with the speed of thousand asteroids affectionately and hit you with a "your writing is awesome!"

Also, may I request an Aventurine x The Nameless!reader.

Thank you very much and have a nice day :D

Thank you so much for your kind words and for the request, it was so fun to write <З

Hope you'll enjoy it, have a good day as well 💛

Aventurine x The Nameless!reader

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort. Once again, no beta. I'm so sorry.

Aventurine

Considering that the Astral Family and it's members are pretty well-known (everyone seems to know at least their names) he has probably heard something about you even before you first met him.

I can imagine your first meeting going like this: he casually approaches you, acting all buddy-buddy, and says something like "ah, mx , who knew I would meet you here of all places <З".

If your first meeting was during the Penacony quest get ready for him calling you "friend" in this sassy voice of his 💀 Yes Aven we all get it you don't have any actual friends calm down

Can imagine him trying to get closer to you by painting your potential partnership as something mutually beneficial. You could use a friend from the IPC, right? And he wouldn't mind having some connections with a "brave and honorable" Nameless. So why don't you join him for a glass of wine, hmmm?

When the two of you will eventually get closer this mf will get clingy af. Yeah I've mentioned it already in my previous post but you being one of the Nameless opens up so many new perspectives.

Visits you on the Express regularly. If he comes when you're not here, he'll wait for as long as he can for you to come back. Sadly, Aventurine is a busy, busy man. So he can't wait for long. Will leave small notes for you tho, to let you know that he was there but you didn't grace him with your presence

If you come back when he's waiting, Aven will play it off as if he himself just got there and didn't have to wait for you at all, saying somethin like "Oh look, here you're! And here I thought I would have to wait for you, haha. Seems like luck is on my side today~"

He doesn't want you to worry, after all. Also. He wants to save some face. Pom-Pom will rat him out anyway.

Speaking of Pom-Pom, they're probably sick of him at this point lol.

Would ask you about your adventures and listen very closely to every story you may want to tell. He can't help but smile softly while listening to you, he just loves seeing the passion in your eyes. Doesn't matter if the story is about you dragging the Trailblazer away from the trash cans in Belobog (or worse - admiring the trash cans with them), he will still look at you with the same adoring smile.

If you ask him what he's been up to during the time you where gone, Aven would simply laugh it off and say that his boring IPC stuff cannot compare with your bizarre adventures so it doesn't even worth mentioning. Reassure him that you don't care if it's boring, you just want to hear about his day regardless of how it went.

Sometimes he can't help but feel jealous. You're free to travel, to do whatever you want. You have this sparkle of excitement in your eyes every time you tell him about your travels. And he has nothing of it. Simply can't have.

He doesn't have any negative feelings towards you, of course. Mostly some bottled up bitterness toward his fate and himself.

He gets a bit lost in his own head every time he starts feeling this way. Please take his hand and invite him to join you during your next adventure. He will laugh softly and tell you "maybe next time, darling". Even if he doesn't know when this "next time" will come the thought of it, of you wanting to share your precious moment with him, fills him with hope.

Adores when you bring him small gifts from the places you've been. It doesn't have to be something big, really. Just the thought that you were thinking of him when the two of you were apart is enough.

Don't forget to send him pictures of yourself!!!! He wants to know how his dearest darling is doing even when they are freezing their ass off in Belobog.

Would sometimes surprise you by showing up on the planet/space ship you're currently staying on. Aventurine rarely can't stay for a long but he cherishes those short moments when he can just walk around and do nothing in particular with you.

Usually when he visits a planet it has something to do with the IPC's business so he only has time to do his job and. Well. Gamble. Maybe buy some new clothes too if he has enough time.

But with you he can actually explore the planet. You bring him to the local restaurants, small tea shops, seemingly small and insignificant places. But it’s places like these that reveal the real beauty of the planet. He slowly learns to appreciate it when you're by his side.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x reader #walp's writing

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prettyboypistol · 2 months

Note

how do you think would mercs react to reader calling them pet names in his native language that is not english obviously 👀 might be sfw or nsfw, whatever you like more ❤️

TF2 Mercs Reacting To Native Language Pet Names!

Scout

Gets like, REALLY flustered initially. A "Uh, what did you call me?" then "O-oh. Nice! Nice!... Haha okaaaaay! Great!"

Man starts mimicking you and your accent subconsciously (ADHD echoing go brrr) and likes stimming by rolling his rs and doing the special sounds your language does that are different from English.

Soldier

"YOU MAGGOTS HEAR THAT! CUPCAKE HERE THINKS I'M A COWZONE!" "I SAID CORASON!" "MEDIC! HE'S HALLUCINATING! HE THINKS I'M FOOD!"

After you explain it, he gets all giddy and lovey dovey on you, he's got a thing for you talking in your first language.

Pyro

Deadass? I headcanon Pyro to be a polygot. They know what you're saying regardless of what language you speak.

When they hear the petname you shout as good luck, they turn around and make a heart with their fingers and shout something back. It sounded vaguely like your language..?

Demoman

Will hit you with a scottish one right back, it becomes a war of the pet names until you both end up cuddled tightly in each other's arms and on the brink of sleep as you murmur out little sweet nothings.

Has no idea what you're saying but can understand it's affectionate because of the context.

Engie

"What's that, darling? Didn't quite catch that." You say it in English. "Oh! Well ain't you sweet! C'mere hun."

Not as flusterable on the outside, but internally freaking the fuck out because that was SO CUTE!!!

Heavy

Maaaaan. RIP you. This dude's barely got a grasp on English, that could be your only language and this would still work.

If you explain it to him, then he gets all smiley with you and kisses your cheek.

Medic

"Ah, danke liebe." "No problem, cher." "Oh! You speak another language? Amazing! I know that one- wait, do I? Let's see... German, Latin, English..."

Finds it absolutely adorable. If he doesn't know the language he asks you to teach him so you two can gossip together behind people's backs.

Spy

THE RESIDENT POLYGOT. LIKE, HEADCANONED TO BE HIRED ON TO BRIDGE THE LANGUAGE BARRIER LEVELS OF LANGUAGE KNOWLEDGE.

Imma be real it doesn't even register that you spoke in something other than English, but he instinctually switched to your language mid conversation more out of habit than anything.

Sniper

"Awe, using that first-language charm on me, eh? Well that's not gonna let you use me rifle. Sorry chickadee."

Sees it as more of a teasing to try (and failing) to fluster him or get what you want.

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meaningofaeons · 9 months

Text

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ strength in weakness

⊹ character(s) - gojo satoru ⊹ word count - 891 ⊹ notes - fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, silliness, spoilers for s2e5/hidden inventory arc (premature death), reader is a teacher at jujutsu high + a sorcerer ofc, kinda ocxcanon coded im sorry, this is so rushed and dumb and AUUUGHHHH

I....... I caved (ﾐዎ ﻌ ዎﾐ) this man does so many things to me and after seeing the last frame in the ep where his eyes looked a lil red (im including a pic at the end.) I had to write this up. also im so sorry this is like 110% me just turning my oc x gojo into a drabble lmfao LOVE YALL

"Gojo-sensei!"

"Ah, he's awake!"

"Hey, that's one of those expensive chairs, isn't it?!"

"Please don't fall asleep after summoning all of us here."

You stood idly by as your students pestered Satoru, arms crossed firmly in front of your chest. The man only smirked a bit, lifting his blindfold just enough to give Megumi a look.

In the split second before he pulled it back down, you caught sight of his eye, and faltered.

"Ha!"

"Oi, come on! My turn next!"

Yuji's bickering and Nobara's victorious, haughty laughter faded into background fuzz as you gazed after the special grade sorcerer, Megumi raising a brow at him.

"What're you smiling about?"

"Oh, nothing."

The white-haired man turned his head, and you could tell that even beneath that blindfold, he was staring straight at you.

"Ohhh~... Y/N came along too, huh?"

"L/N-sensei was with us when we remembered you had asked us to come by. She just walked us over."

"Aw, not here to see me, huh?"

You sighed, a bit of sarcasm leaking into your voice.

"As loathe as I am to hurt your delicate feelings, Satoru, I just walked the kids over."

Megumi gave his teacher serious side eye before responding. "I don't think anyone would willingly go to see you without being prompted to."

"Ouch."

You paused for a moment as Satoru turned around again, leaning down and beckoning the dark-haired student over. He listened politely to your words, and though he gave you an odd look, he walked over to Nobara and Yuji nonetheless.

"You two, let's wait outside for a bit."

"Huh?! But Kugisaki hasn't let me sit yet!"

"You can sit in the chair later. Gojo-sensei doesn't mind."

"I'll just take it from Itadori again!"

"Why, you—!"

The two eventually barreled out the door, Megumi giving you a small nod before sliding it shut behind himself. Satoru plopped himself back into his seat at that, his easy smile still ever-present.

"So you did come to see me."

"Not really," you murmured casually, earning an overdramatic, shocked gasp from the man. However, he calmed the theatrics upon the sound of your gentle footfalls, feeling your shadow fall over his seated form. "Just thought of something."

Your fingers brushed over the edges of his blindfold before you could stop yourself, but Satoru only shrugged, the barest hint of hesitation seeping into his light tone.

"Go for it."

You pushed the material up just far enough to see his eye once more, your thumb brushing over the reddened flesh beneath it. Slightly puffy, almost as if...

Right. It was around this time of year.

You recalled the time of your youth perhaps just as vividly as Satoru did, but you never were quite as close with Suguru as he was. So no matter how much you remembered, it couldn't compare to what he had seen.

"I'm starting to think you've got some less-than-professional feelings for me, L/N-sensei, what with this tender touch. Are you giving me special treatment?"

"Be serious for a moment," you scoffed, but your hand did not recoil. It made Satoru's smirk drop, even if only a bit.

Your voice was far gentler than he'd ever heard it before.

"How are you feeling?"

Perhaps it was an obvious question to ask, one with an obvious answer—regardless of how he truly felt, Satoru's answer would always be something placating, something lighthearted and in jest.

But this time, he only glanced away, blindfold still pushed up.

"Well, it was just a dream."

You nodded, hand falling away from his face. Before it could fall to your side, however, the man sitting beside you reached out, taking it gingerly.

You didn't ask any further. Prodding the issue would lead nowhere.

But your hand squeezed his just slightly, just enough for him to feel your flesh, warm and alive.

You were here. That's really all he needed in this moment of vulnerability.

"I didn't take you for the comforting type."

Your eyebrow twitched as he slipped back into that teasing lilt of his.

"I can comfort you with a nice slap to the face, if you'd prefer it."

"Not like you could touch me, anyhow~."

"You little—"

Before you could even react, Satoru had scampered to the door, slamming it open and wrapping an arm around Yuji and Megumi's shoulders, spouting some nonsense about missing his beloved students.

"What took you so long, Sensei?" Yuji asked, face scrunching as the white-haired man ruffled his hair.

"Don't you know anything, Itadori? He and L/N-sensei were in there alone, so obviously..."

Nobara's words devolved into hushed whispers as she spotted you in the corner of her eye, and you shot Satoru a warning glance as he leaned back to get a look at you.

You were sure that, in the several years you'd known one another, the man would have long since been able to recognize your eyes clearly saying, 'Don't feed a word into this, or I'll pummel you to death.'

Alas...

"Exactly right, Kugisaki! Full marks!"

"Whaaat?! Seriously?! Sensei, you and L/N-sen—"

"Don't feed them nonsense, you ingrate!" you shouted at once, chasing after a very unrepentant Satoru as he skipped around the courtyard. Megumi only grumbled out a sigh.

"So we all agree something's going on, ri—"

"Enough, Kugisaki, let's just go."

SEE WHATD I SAY!!!! HIS EYES!!!! I love you forver. .... please dont cry .................

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #satoru #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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feyascorner · 3 months

Note

You writing is amazing! I eat it right up!

Now this idea has been stuck in my hand for a while. Tav that wants to give Astarion blood but are horrified of needles and that fear applies to his fangs. So when they try to give blood the instinctively move away even when Astarion "The bit comes in 3 2 1" but Tav insist on trying again. When Astarion finally gets some blood Tav straight just goes "Oh okay great" and faceplants in the ground. When they wake up again they say the weirdest shit because they are still whoozy something like "Hey Astarion do crabs think fish can fly?"

Anyway have a nice day :]

im crying they're so silly...also i wrote like the dumbest questions but they're genuine questions so pls if anyone has answers...

"Just do it."

He nods. "Very well."

"Wait, no, I need a countdown."

"Fine. Three...two..."

"Actually, it's too nerve-racking, just--"

Astarion pulls his face away from the crook of your neck, eyes lidded as he sighs. "Darling, if it's too difficult..."

"It's not that bad. I want to help you, and you said this would make you more powerful in battle," you insist, bursting with enthusiasm but not enough to will you through your deathly fear of needles---or anything sharp for that matter. "I've done it before, I can do it again."

"Yes, love, but the last time we did this, you had me do it while you were asleep. You also woke up and punched me in the chest, even though you're the one who suggested the idea."

"I can do it this time! Just try again!"

Despite his hesitance, he follows your request, gently inching you closer and leaning into your neck. His breath feels cool on your skin, but the second you feel him nearing too close, you pull away again instinctively. He doesn't even seem surprised this time.

"Okay, maybe we should just do it while I'm sleeping again-"

He grabs either side of your face, pressing a kiss on your cheek and then another on the side of your nose. He trails down to your chin, and before you can even tell what he's doing, your face is flushed in embarrassment. So much so that you don't even realize he's trailed down your chin and his fangs are now right at your neck. "What are you--"

It pricks.

Astarion tries to make it brief, regardless of how badly he wants to drink more, because he can sense how limp you feel in his arms. He pulls away, licking at the excess on his lips with a triumphant grin. "There. Exquisite as always."

But you only stare at him blankly. His smile drops. It worries him.

"Oh, okay," you blink. "That's great."

You would've face planted straight into the floor had he not barely grabbed you by the back of your shirt.

You only awake a few hours later, groggily rubbing at your eyes while Astarion looms over you with pursed lips, and you wonder how long he's been sitting here. When your eyes peel open, he groans, shoulders slumping in relief.

"There you are, I thought I'd nearly killed you again!" he smiles, reaching for a plate of fruits beside your bedroll. "Now feed yourself before you go and pass out on me aga--"

"Your hair reminds me of a white rat I saw last week."

He stops.

"Why do you think Karlach's underwear doesn't burn off? Are they enchanted? I want enchanted underwear."

Ah, he realizes. You've finally lost your mind.

Your lips stretch dreamily. "Maybe I can ask Withers to make my underwear glow in the dark."

"No, before we move on, let's discuss that rat comment."

"Do crabs think fish can fly?"

"I---I suppose they would?..." He's at a loss of words, which is especially rare for him.

You blink wearily at him, staring at a spot on the wall behind his head. He'd think your confusion to be adorable if it weren't for the borderline offensive comments you were spouting out like a broken water fountain. "Do vampires poop, Astarion?"

You've crossed the borderline now. He runs a hand down his face, sighing. "Please stop talking, my love."

"You can technically eat food, even though it tastes bad, right?" you raise a brow, squinting at him. "So where does that food go? Do you poop it out or does it just kind of slide ou--"

"Okay, that's quite enough talking for today," he shoves an apple into your mouth. He snickers at how you struggle to take a bite. "No more questions until you finish the entire bowl."

Fortunately for him, you fall back asleep before you're even finished with the apple. And he's grateful you do because even he himself doesn't know the answer to that question.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff

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d10nyx · 23 days

Text

TALK TOO MUCH - WELT YANG

ft. welt yang x fem!reader

a/n: was really struggling with this and hate it - want to preface it by saying this is unfinished. it's just a first draft, but people (person) still wanted me to post it, even if i'm not gonna end up fully finishing it :/ the ending is rushed, but it technically does have an end. hope you like it regardless. title from coin song of the same name

cw: 18+ content, welt rambling, hand holding, kissing, just really fluffy smut tbh, welt is a lil subby and shy, age gap, p in v, creampie

word count: 1.4k words

You certainly were a curious thing. Welt had gotten used to those on the Astral Express treating him as their personal encyclopedia, although he hadn't quite expected you to be so adamant to get him to info dump on every little thing once you'd discovered it - not that he didn't like it. He did pride himself on his intelligence, and there were much worse ways to spend his time than having a nice conversation with someone like you, even if you're the only one that can make his heart race when you called him Mr. Yang.

He's not surprised at all when he hears a knock on his door at night. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up and gazes towards the entrance of his room, spotting you slowly opening it, looking all sheepish as you slide your way into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"Ah, good evening. Isn't it a bit late for you to expect me to go on one of my tangents?" He asks, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Sorry, I just couldn't sleep. I thought maybe you could talk to me about something for a while? If you don't mind, of course.” You say softly, offering him a small smile as you take a step further into his room, hoping he agrees.

"Oh, you want me to start blathering, hm?" He replies, meeting your gaze and smiling in return. He pats the spot on the bed next to him, inviting you over to sit. You offer your thanks as you take a seat, leaning back against the headboard. “Well. If you're seeking a calming influence, then I suppose you've come to the right place."

You smile at his words, tilting your head to look at him as you settle comfortably on the bed. "Your blathering just so happens to be my favorite thing to listen to.”

Welt raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing slightly as you admit that you really do like listening to him ramble on. You always bring a feeling of warmth in his chest that he has not felt in a long while. Your company is certainly becoming one of his favorite things on the express.

"And here I thought you were just humoring me to keep me from being lonely." He says, but a smile curls the corner of his mouth regardless. "You're in luck, though. I'll chat your ear off for as long as you need me to.”

And so he does. He starts talking about any topics that come to mind, getting lost in his thoughts as he does so. He's not sure how long he's talking for, but you haven't stopped him yet, so he can only hope he isn't bothering you.

“The starskiffs of the Cloud Knights would head to planets that went out of contact to seek information, while the Xianzhou Ten-Lords Commission remains-” Welt trails off as he feels your head loll against his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. The smile hasn't left his face the entire time, but it only grows at the sight of you lying against his shoulders, eyes half-shut. His hand moves to the back of your head to keep you secure, his thumb gently moving back and forth. “I thought you couldn't sleep, dear. Are my words really so boring to you?”

You shake your head softly, peering up at him through your lashes as he speaks. Your expression is soft, lingering on his eyes for a moment before they drop down to his lips, just for a second. “You're not boring. Not at all. You just make me feel comfortable. Relaxed.”

He nods softly, but he's barely focusing on your words. He can hardly stand being this close to you, and it was impossible to ignore the way your gaze settled on his mouth, even if only for a moment. He wanted you so, so badly.

He's about to open his mouth to say something, anything to distract him enough to stop him from doing anything stupid, until you beat him to it. “I want to kiss you. Please, can I?”

The mere thought of it sends his heart pounding so fast it hurts. He's so old, at least, far older than you. You're still so young, so full of life - how could he expect he'd ever have a chance with you?

Welt nods, his eyes closing momentarily. "Please, be gentle. It... it has been a long time." With his words spoken, he brings his lips to meet yours.

Your lips eagerly meet his once your eyes have fluttered shut, greedily taking in everything he's giving you. His lips are just as soft as you'd imagined, pressing firmly against yours. A small noise escapes him when you cup his cheek, drawing him further towards you.

He leans into the kiss, his hands squeezing you tighter. His lips are warm and gentle, his tongue peeking out gently to prod at your lips until you part them, before it carefully slides into your mouth. His free hand trails down your back to your ass, squeezing it lightly as he deepens the kiss once more, tugging you onto his lap.

“Welt…” You murmur between kisses, brushing his bangs back with your free hand as you straddle him, pressing your body against his. Welt. Not Mr. Yang. The sound of that has him smiling into the kiss, tugging you a little closer.

He's still smiling when you pull away from the kiss, the corner of his eyes crinkling as warmth floods his features. Your warm body pressed against his is enough to have him craving more, his heart pounding against his chest.

“I… I want you. Please.” You breathe out, resting your forehead against his, your thumbs grazing his cheekbones. You slowly roll your hips, rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. You can't help but feel a surge of pride as it instantly fills out, causing Welt to let out an almost pained groan.

"Please, my dear..." He starts, his voice soft and tender, but hoarse with arousal. "Do be patient with me, alright? I... I do not want to disappoint you.”

“You couldn't disappoint me. God, I've wanted you for so long. Wasn't it obvious?” You breathe out, lips pressing against his jaw over and over again. His body is now trembling in your hands, your lips sending his senses into overload. His groan deepens, and he lets out the subtlest of moans when your hips roll to grind down on his lap.

"I-I didn't know that at all..." His breathing is short and shallow now, every moment feeling like the first time you've kissed him. "Who would've known that I'd be so popular with you?”

“I'll be careful, okay?” You murmur against the skin of his neck, nipping and licking at the skin as you paw desperately at his clothes, tugging them off until you're both laid bare on his bed. His pale skin is marred with scars, his muscles slightly toned but covered by a soft layer of flesh.

You sink down slowly onto his length, taking him inch by inch. Welt lets out an involuntary gasp, his hips twitching towards you instinctively to try and drive himself further into your wet cunt. His hand reaches out to grab yours, squeezing it tightly as you begin to build a steady rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your free hand shifts to thread through his hair, yanking gently on the strands.

“I care for you, ah, very deeply, you know?” He said through gritted teeth, his breath coming out in short pants. It had been far too long, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to stave off his orgasm anymore. “I want… I want to make you feel good, too.”

He does his best to ignore the tightening of his stomach, whimpering softly as he feels the coil snap, flooding you with rope after rope of his cum. His free hand presses against your mound, his thumb hastily swiping back and forth over your clit until you're cumming, clenching around his over-sensitive cock until he's gasping your name.

It takes a moment for him to calm down, to catch his breath - but when he does, he's beaming at you, a shimmer in his eyes that he'd long lost returning. “That was perfect, my dear. You're perfect.”

#welt yang x reader #welt yang x you #welt yang smut #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr smut

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 10 months

Text

𝐀 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

Haha...so...I wrote this in one sitting on my phone, which is unlike me. I prefer working on my computer but oh well, I couldn't stop. I'm insatiable and there was not enough Tom in season 2.

Summary: You and Tom take a nice walk through the park...until the rain starts pouring.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), kinda mean!dom Tom, implied subspace, teasing, dacryphilia, slapping, daddy kink, degradation, orgasm denial/control, and fluff cause I couldn't help myself🤷🏻‍♀️

word count | 2.2k🤙🏻

It had been a few weeks since Tom came back home. Tears of joy rarely seemed to leave your eyes, as Tom rarely ever let you leave his bed. But today, you decided it was too lovely outside to stay indoors all day, even though it would’ve been enjoyed regardless. The weather was predicted to be sunny with a nice breeze all afternoon, so you couldn’t possibly let yourself waste such a day.

You managed to convince Tom of the idea, after what seemed like hours of complaining and trying to get you to change your mind. But you weren’t having it, no matter how many times Tom said he’d bring you to a breathtaking release if you’d just allow yourselves to stay home.

You both walked to a local park, hand in hand, basking in the warm glow the sun offered, hearing the birds chirp happily, and glancing around at all the other people who must've had the same idea as you. And Tom, albeit reluctantly, started allowing himself to enjoy it and your company. Although, seeing a kid drop their ice cream cone and immediately bursting into fitful wails brought him enough joy that he started to think it was worth it.

It wasn't until the skies suddenly darkened, the sun almost disappearing into oblivion, that you and Tom started regretting your decisions.

It was slow at first, just a few droplets hitting the tops of your heads, then a few droplets turned into an absolute downpour.

You squealed as you, Tom, and everyone else at the park started to get drenched, most scurrying to their vehicles or shutting themselves in their homes that were somewhat nearby. You and Tom didn't have such luck, as you both walked miles to get to this destination. What a great choice on your part. So all you really could do was take cover along the treeline of the woods that aesthetically encircled the park.

As you watched the rain come down harder, you heard Tom sigh heavily and you rolled your eyes, already knowing you were about to get an earful...but it never came. You looked up at him in slight curiosity, seeing that a content expression was plastered over his visage, not an annoyed wrinkle or frown in sight.

Tom glanced towards you, seeing your confused expression. "What?"

You shook your head, jutting your bottom lip out slightly and shrugging your shoulders. "Thought you'd be...less calm than you are right now. More...mad."

Tom furrowed his brows, going back to watching the rainfall. "Why would I be mad?"

You chuckled weakly. "Well, you didn't really wanna come out here in the first place."

He smirked, gently bumping your shoulder with his. "Ah, I was just pulling your leg, luv. I was happy to come out here, with you. I'm still happy to be here with you...never thought I'd get the chance again."

You'd think your whole body would turn into a puddle right then and there, mixing with the rain and seeping into the damp soil. But alas, all it did was ignite a burning, consuming fire in the pit of your belly, almost disappointed Tom said such a thing and didn't do anything afterwards.

You looked at your surroundings. Not a soul in sight, nobody but the two of you. The scarce playground equipment shook and swings swung violently with the wind, creaking and groaning from the force. If you were to scream, most likely no one would be able to hear you through the small storm. Why did the thought turn you on even more? And Tom, he looked so peaceful, the ever permanent curve in his lips deepening every time thunder shook the earth.

Before you could overthink it, you started to lower yourself to the ground, the muddiness of the dirt that started to stick to your knees and ends of your dress doing nothing to quell the desire that kept on building inside you.

Gaining his attention immediately, Tom looked down at you in dark intrigue, watching as you settled yourself on your knees. "And what do you think you're doing, sweet girl?" You didn't reply as you reached your hands up to palm his cock through his trousers, hearing him let out a barely audible grunt at your ministrations. "You do realize we're in public?"

"You want me to stop?" You looked up at him with wide doe eyes, putting on an innocent expression even though you and Tom both knew fully well how debaucherous you really could be.

You gasped as Tom reached down, grabbing you by the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you into a bruising kiss. "You're a fuckin' vixen, you know that? A whore is what you've turned into since I've been gone, is that it?"

"Yes...but I'm your whore."

And with that response, you crossed the point of no return, which is exactly where you wanted to be.

Tom smirked, his cock instantly responding to your words and actions. "Yeah, you are, baby." He brought you into another passionate kiss, biting your bottom lip before pulling away, making you whimper. "Let's see how your whore mouth can be put to use, hm?" He growled, leaning back and relaxing against a tree, a smug aura surrounding him as he watched and waited for your next move.

You smiled as you took his cock out, hard and pulsing warmly beneath the weight of your hand, a gush of slick pooling at your entrance at the breathy moan Tom made as you ran your tongue along him from base to tip, weakly suckling on the head to tease him. And you repeated those motions a few times before he stopped you, grabbing onto your hair with a growl. "Fuckin' tease. You gonna suck my cock like a good little slut, or do I have to force you? 'Cause I can force you, luv, you know I can." You involuntarily let out a whimpery moan, clenching your thighs together at his low, threatening voice. "Ah, I see. That's what you want, huh? You want me to use you like the whore you are? I can fuckin' do that."

"Tom-" You yelped when he slapped you with his cockhead, making you widen your eyes up at him.

"Nah, sweetheart, whores don't get to use my real name. So, I'm only gonna ask you once: who am I?"

Your heart hammered in your ribcage, never having felt so frightened and aroused at the same time. "...Daddy."

Tom grinned evilly, and in pride. "That's my good girl. Now, beg Daddy to fuck your mouth, go on."

"Daddy," you let out with another pathetic whimper, "please, fuck my mouth. I need to feel your big cock."

"Open." He prodded the tip of his cock at your lips, coaxing them to part. "Wider. Yeah, that's it." He groaned loudly as he rammed himself inside your hot, wet mouth, hitting the back of your throat immediately and making you gag around him. "Fuck, so good for me." He pulled back and thrusted back in roughly, over and over again, until tears ran down your cheeks and your drool spilt down your chin copiously. "See what happens when you tease your Daddy, hm? You brought this on yourself."

You moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him groan loudly, the still pouring rain drowning at any noise. No one would be able to hear you gagging on his dick, or his moans, nor the wet squelching of your cunt as you started to finger yourself to relieve some of the tension building in you. But Tom could hear it. "You better not be touching yourself, girl. Only I get to abuse that pretty pussy of yours." Tom pulled you up from the ground, your lips releasing his dick with a wet pop, your fingers retreating from your quivering form in the process.

Your eyes were glazed over in a haze, mad with lust and pleasure, unable to focus as Tom brought up your hand by the wrist. He lightly slapped you, bringing your vision back into focus. "Were you touching yourself?"

He asked so lowly, you were scared, so you mewled out a soft, "No."

Your response only made him smirk. "Hm. So, if I were to stick your fingers in my mouth, I wouldn't be able to taste you, right?" You didn't even have the chance to respond before he wrapped his lips around your fingers, his tongue swirling around the digits before releasing them with another hum. "A whore and a liar? What am I to do with you?"

And before you knew it, Tom had you pinned up against the same tree he was leaning on previously, the bark digging into your back uncomfortably. "You know what I do with whores, but what do you think I should do with liars? Surely, I shouldn't reward them for their behavior, right?"

You stuttered, unable to form words in your lust driven mind. "Tom-" You started to sob out, being interrupted with another slap, much harsher than the last.

"What did I tell you?" He growled. "Whores aren't allowed to use my real name. Why can't you just do as you're told? You've grown so wild and rebellious since I've been away. I think I need to put you back in your place."

Tom turned you around, lifting up your dress to reveal your underwear already pushed to the side, giving him access to your needy cunt. "Just a slut." You cried out loudly as he pushed two fingers inside you roughly. "That's all you are." He spat in your ear, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot, tears springing to your ears as pleasure overtook you all too easily. "So worked up, aren't you? You gonna come so quickly?"

"Yes!" You sobbed, practically shaking from the cold of the atmosphere and the pleasure Tom was giving you. And he wouldn't fuckin' stop, bringing you right to the precipice before pulling away completely and landing a painful slap to your clit. "Ow!" You whined.

"What? You think I was gonna let you come that easily? No, you have to earn it, girl."

"Please...please..." You cried softly, completely leaning onto the tree in quiet exhaustion, so desperate for a release that you couldn't possibly notice or care about the wood scratching up your delicate skin.

"You sound so pretty for me, luv. And using your manners. It's almost enough to make me wanna show you mercy."

Your body thrummed with hopefulness, your mind going into tunnel vision at the prospect of getting off. "Daddy, please. I'll be a good girl. I won't touch myself, I won't tease you, I promise. I'll behave, Daddy, I swear it." You sobbed, soft hiccups escaping your lips.

"Hey, hey," Tom cooed, running his hands over your skin gently, gooseflesh rising along where his fingers made their path. "You are a good girl. My good, sweet girl." You preened at his praise, letting out a shuddering sigh as he finally pushed his cock into you. "I believe you've learned your lesson, luv. Now, all you have to do is come for me." He whispered in your ear, a strangled moan brushing past your ears as he sped up his thrusts. "Think you can do that for me?"

You cried out softly as the tip of his cock kept bullying the rough patch along the front of your walls, your climax already building back up with brutal force. "Yes, Daddy."

"Tom." He corrected, and you grinned.

You moaned as Tom reached around to run circles on your clit, pleasure dizzying your senses, making you lightheaded. You were right there. "Please..." You wailed.

"Say my name when you come, sweet girl. Come for me."

"Tom!" You chanted his name like a prayer, your velvety walls squeezing around him tightly as your orgasm washed over you in tidal waves, Tom's grip on you the only thing keeping you standing on your own two feet.

"Fuck, baby!" Tom cursed, rutting against like a wild animal until he came with a loud grunt, almost collapsing against you until he remembered there was only a tree there that couldn't keep the both of you upright in the position you both were in.

A calming beat until Tom broke the silence first. "I love you."

And just like that, the skies cleared and the rain stopped. The sun shined brightly once again, the fresh smell of watered earth covering up the stench of sex and sweat.

"We should, uh, probably be getting home, huh?" Tom smirked, putting his softening cock back inside his pants and helping you fix your dress. To anyone none the wiser, it just looked like you both were drenched with rain water. You were of course, but it mixed with sweat from exertion. "And if anyone asks, you slipped and fell because you're atrociously clumsy."

You faked offense, playfully shoving him off the sidewalk as you walked back home, an easy grin on both your faces.

You grabbed ahold of Tom's hand, squeezing it gently before leaning to kiss his cheek, the innocent gesture making him blush harder than any sex driven act could.

"I love you too, Tom Bennett, more than you could ever know.”

sorry it's a bit shorter but i legit don't have time to write long fics all the time anymore. sadge. hope y'all enjoyed regardless. hashtag justice for Tom Bennett.

#world on fire #world on fire bbc #tom bennett #tom bennett smut #tom bennett x fem!reader #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x f!reader #tom bennett imagine

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the-kaedageist · 6 months

Note

congrats on hitting your follower milestone!! for a CR short fic prompt, how about shadowgast where essek is learning to coexist with caleb's cats? :)

I'm emerging from the abyss to answer this prompt 11 months later, but I hope you enjoy! I also believe someone else had Caleb having a cat named Gretchen before me and my brain borrowed it from someone; apologies, it just fit so well.

“Ah,” says Caleb when Essek arrives for their weekly meeting. “Since you were here last, I have acquired another housemate.”

This feels like a somewhat alarming statement. Thankfully, the suspense is not held for long - a moment later, a calico cat makes her way daintily into the room with them, stares up at Essek, and hisses.

“Gretchen,” Caleb scolds, along with a long string of Zemnian that Essek’s rudimentary skills can’t hope to follow. He’s just about mastered ‘please’, ‘thank you’, and some of the major foods; nowhere near native-speaker-speaking-to-his-cat level.

Essek tries not to be offended at being hissed at, even as he can feel his own ears flicking back behind his head in annoyance. “I have done nothing to you,” he says to the cat.

“She is scared,” says Caleb, reaching down to scritch the calico’s ears. She glares at Essek but submits happily to the pets. “She will get used to you.”

The cat eyes him like a particularly unpleasant thing that has been dropped on the floor. Well, Essek thinks, he has certainly had nemeses before. What is one more?

The situation does not improve from there. Every week, Essek Teleports to Caleb’s house, and every week, Gretchen acts as though Essek has offended her to the very depths of her being. (It probably doesn’t help that the third time this happened, Essek hissed back.)

By the end of the first month, Essek despairs that he will ever have a good relationship with Caleb’s animal companion.

At night, when he’s downstairs studying and Caleb is asleep, Essek sneaks back upstairs to find Gretchen curled up at Caleb’s side, purring happily. When Caleb is reading on the couch and Essek is attempting to cook in the kitchen, he peeks in to find Gretchen stubbornly attempting to seat herself in the middle of Caleb’s book, to Caleb’s laughter.

It seems that although they loathe one another, he and Gretchen share a love of the same man. Surely there is common ground they can find.

One night, Yasha and Beau come over for dinner. Gretchen is ambivalent about Beau (although no hissing is involved), but she waltzes right up to Yasha and starts headbutting her ankle.

“Oooh, hello, little beauty,” Yasha says, reaching down to scratch her cheek. Gretchen stares up at her adoringly. Essek also stares at her, aghast and betrayed.

“What is this?” he asks like a spurned lover.

“What is what?” Beau asked. She glanced over at Yasha. “Oh, the cat? She loves Yasha. For obvious reasons, of course.”

Essek rolls his eyes. “I thought she did not like strangers.”

Beau blinks. Her eyes narrow and her mouth stretches into a smirk. “Does the cat not like you, Essek?”

“No,” Essek denies quickly. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He quickly makes an exit to the kitchen, making excuses about checking the soup, before he can be pestered further.

That is when he begins to wonder what he’s doing wrong.

First, he tries dressing more comfortably for his trips to Caleb’s. Perhaps, Gretchen is intimidated by the points on his mantle and the finery of his robes – is that a thing cats care about? The only cats Essek has ever encountered have been moorbounders, and usually they care more about the quality of their meal.

Unfortunately, even in loose pants and a soft shirt, Gretchen still glares and hides from him on his next visit. Caleb seems to appreciate the change though, pulling Essek into his arms and cuddling with him more than normal, and Essek makes a mental note that perhaps more comfortable clothing was in order regardless of the cat’s opinion.

Next, he attempts to determine if Yasha has bribed the cat for her love. He does research and discovers that cats are known to love meat and fish. The next week, when he Teleports into Caleb’s house, he pulls out a handkerchief with some pieces of fish stashed inside and lays it out on the floor. Gretchen does her usual routine of glaring at him while growling before she slowly approaches to sniff the food.

Caleb looks amused. “You brought a present?”

Essek shrugs, feeling heat on the back of his neck. “She is part of your family.”

Gretchen eats up every morsel of fish, to Essek’s relief. However, once her meal is complete, she goes back to hissing and glowering as though no offering had ever been made.

Essek is starting to feel a bit offended. This feels personal.

One night, he cuddles up with Caleb, dejected, as Caleb strokes his hands through Essek’s hair and coils a curl around his finger. “You are quieter than usual,” says Caleb. “Is something wrong?”

Essek glances up at him through his lashes. “Gretchen does not like me.”

Caleb says, “hmm” and continues to stroke Essek’s hair. “I have thought much about this, and I think she sees you as another cat.”

This is not something Essek has ever considered. “Another cat?” he echoes, surprised.

Caleb presses a kiss to his hairline. “You have cat-like mannerisms. You are prickly and picky and beautiful. Does it surprise you at all?”

Essek thinks for a moment; perhaps it does make some sort of strange sense. “So if I am another cat, how do I win her affection?” he asks at last.

“Well,” says Caleb, “ideally I would have put you both in adjoining rooms and let you sniff each other under the door.”

Essek gives him an unamused look. “Caleb Widogast, I am not actually a cat.”

Caleb tousles his hair with a small chuckle. “Ja, of course. Then I would say…be around her. In, ah, her orbit, so to speak. Give her space, but be present and let her get used to you.”

“I have been present,” says Essek petulantly. “She does not like me.”

Caleb shakes his head. “You either approach her head-on or you give her a wide berth – understandable, but I do not think it helps.” He lays his forehead against Essek’s curls. “You are stubborn. You will find a way.”

And slowly, Essek does.

He continues to bring Gretchen fish, but retreats beyond arm’s reach so that she can eat without feeling threatened. He is careful to seat himself within her watchful gaze when she is near, so that she will know his location. He stops trying to befriend and starts letting her be, and Caleb had been right – once he gives her the space to get to know him on her own terms, Gretchen finally, finally begins to thaw.

The first day she approaches him after her fish treat and lets him tentatively reach down to scratch her ears, Essek feels as though he’d been rewarded with a monumental gift. He meets Caleb’s gaze – and Caleb smiles sappily at him, as though all he’d ever wanted for his life was Essek and a cat, in this little house, with everyone getting along.

“You see?” Essek says to Gretchen. “I am not so bad.”

She turns around to show him her butthole and trots away with her tail held high. Essek laughs. “Perhaps we still have some ways to go.”

Caleb wraps an arm around his shoulders. “It takes time,” he says sagely, and Essek can do nothing more than laugh exasperatedly and press a kiss to his cheek.

#shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role #critical role fanfiction #ficlets #my fics #also just for the record the follower milestone in question was hit in JANUARY

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misshugs · 8 days

Text

It'll be alright || Colby Brock

[inspired] "feels like i'm always apologizing for feeling."

[req by anon] At the end of the day, it seems that the ones you least expect are the ones that are always by your side at your worst.

warnings: shy/introvert!reader, mentions of self-abandonment, angst, self/degrading, cursing, anxiety, hurt/comfort?

a/n: i'll prolly do the banner soon enough, also not proofread at all so if there's something that sounds.. weird, my bad ;; i'll fix it eventually

word count: 4.6k [u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You knew it wasn't quite healthy for you disregard your own feelings like this, but you got so used to it.

You hid them so well at times, you feared you weren't even being honest with yourself.

Being a people pleaser wasn't something you wanted to do, but somehow managed to end up being. You never really wanted to make people upset, so you tried your best to help out as much as you could whenever you were able to.

Turning out like this also lead to friends that weren't really there for you, but you were always there for them.

You always were.

Even when they made fun of you, whenever they asked you for so many favours you knew you weren't going to get back, you were always there. You persisted in this so called "friendship" merely because they seemed to actually like hanging out with you.

At least it's what you thought at the time.

And honestly, who could blame you? Although it was most certainly a toxic friendship, they genuinely added you to most conversations. It wasn't as if you were only there to fill up the background most of the time.

Right?

"Hey babes, would you mind buying us some drinks?"

"Buying? Soph, I'm not even drinking tonight, I-"

"Really? You're going to do this to us? After we've invited your ass here? You're really trying to make us look bad?" She spat back, making you nervous.

It's all too familiar.

This has happened too many times for your comfort, and it always seemed to work in their favour; even when you tried to avoid it.

"N-no! I'm just saying that you could-" She put a hand infront of you.

"Shush. God, you're making my ears bleed." She whined before getting closer to your face. "Look, you go over there and ask for five shots of tequila, m'kay? Be a good one for me tonight, it also might improve your own reputation so, you know, stop talking and start moving honey. Tap tap." Her cunning smile and slight push on your shoulder made your heart race in an abnormal speed.

You really didn't want to. You really shouldn't, actually. But they were your friends, weren't they? You're doing this because they're friends.

Yeah, well. Keep telling yourself that lie.

Walking towards the bar and waiting for the drinks, there was this guy waiting right beside you. He looked at you with an amused smirk.

"Five? That's impressive."

"They're not for me." You responded with a half smile.

"Not even one?" He raised a brow, gaining a slight shake of your head as a response. "Sucks. Can I buy you one then?"

You look back at him, now with an amused expression yourself. Taking out his card and giving it to the barista before even letting you pull out your wallet, you looked at his deep, blue eyes.

"Bill's on me this time. Looks like you need a little break." He whispered, a small wink quickly after.

"Well, thank you, kind stranger." You said, taking all of the shots with you and looking back at him.

"Colby." He answered, trying to give you a handshake only to see your hands full and laugh. "Right."

You giggled. "I'm Y/n. Thank you again, Colby." And so, you walked away.

Sam, walking towards Colby after watching his obvious intend of flirting with you, putting his hand on his shoulder and said while looking at you walk away.

"You should've helped her dude."

"Ah, shit."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

"God, I can't believe I still invite you to these, you're so ungrateful." She sobbed, "After all you've done to us I still invite you regardless, and this is how you repay us? Your friends?"

You paused, looking slightly down while the dramaqueen infront of you began fanning her eyes and looking up, trying to not ruin her perfect makeup with her fake tears. You tried to restrain your own feelings, closing your hand into a fist, feeling yourself getting frustrated by the second.

The word friends ached in your heart for the very first time, and you knew it wasn't a good sign. "Sorry." You whispered, basically apologizing for feeling. Again.

In the end, you were still too shy to try and confront yourself to her. You knew you would lose, even though you've already created a million different ways of repelling every single one of her insults.

She was too predictable, too easy to contradict. But she had something you didn't.

Confidence.

Maybe if it weren't for the dozens of people that could be staring straight through you, you might be able to have a chance. Even then, you knew better. You get nervous too easily to try and spat back shit to this princess. Slowly but surely, you were starting to lose hope in this so called friendship you had with her and her other dogs.

Or maybe it was already gone, you just didn't want to admit it to yourself.

You were tired.

The stress, the anxiety that was draining you was too much. It wasn't worth it, and you knew it.

What made you keep going? Was it because you were comfortable? Did you not want to try something new? Were you too accustomed to their presence that it made it hard to walk away? Yeah, most likely.

"I can't with you today. You're such a meanie." Soph argued, turning away. "Do whatever you fucking want. Get lost or whatever, I'm not taking you home." She walked away with her group. Their judgemental glares were enough to carve a hole in your heart.

It wasn't only them, but the people that got a glimpse of the situation began murmuring. The feeling of being watched, judged and laughed at by strangers. An unbearable, overwhelming feeling that stopped you in place. You were feeling yourself loose air, your hands shaky at the mere thought and paranoia you were collapsing yourself with.

On the mere edge of tears, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. "Oh, my bad." They laughed. A familiar male voice released you from the thoughts. You looked at his face. Colby. "Didn't mean to scare you. Saw you all alone so I passed by to say hello. You doing okay?" He smiled.

Somehow, that smile is all you needed. Your eyes fluttered while you fixated your vision on his pretty face. You smiled back. "Yeah, yeah. Doing good." You tried to compose yourself once again.

Surprisingly, it was easy because of him. His jokes, flirty comments and pretty smile made you completely forget how you were on the edge of a panic attack barely a few hours ago.

"I'll be honest with ya. Last time? You made me so shy that I was going to ask for your number then completely forgot up until it was already too late." He laughed, so contagious that it made you giggle back. "Would you mind giving me a chance of texting you once in a while? Of course, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, sure, I don't mind." You gave him your number. A part of you hoping it wasn't yet another prank that would make you break into despair, but at the same time, you wanted to believe. You still had hope; not everyone is bad. Right?

After passing numbers, you notice the time in your phone. "Ah, shit. I should be leaving, it's too late." You stood up from your seat, fixing yourself up.

"Oh, well, are you driving?" He asked, standing up after you.

"Oh... um. I guess I'll have to call an uber, since my... friend will probably be staying." You mumbled slightly, remembering that bitter memory from not so long ago.

"Mind if I drive you home then?" A soft smile on his face; a sincere one. You looked at him, dazed for a moment. "...Is... Is that a yes?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure? I wouldn't want to bother you." You respond quickly.

"Bother me? Not at all. You've been my light of the party tonight." He laughs at his own statement. "Come on, let's get you home, sweetheart." He followed, putting his hand at your upper back, walking you towards the exit.

You didn't argue about it. In fact, you preferred to leave as quickly as possible, and he was giving you that chance. It was nice, it felt nice to have what you wanted for a change, even if it was as simple as leaving a party sooner than later.

After an annoyingly quick ride back home, you thanked him prefusely before walking back into your appartment.

Tonight took a toll on you emotionally; feeling dread and such a big pleasure at the same time. After a much needed shower and a midnight snack, you heard your phone.

A text? Who would even text you this late at night? You started questioning if it was Soph or one of the other girls, only to soothe the rising stress when you saw the text from a new contact.

Hey, it's Colby. Hoping you didn't give me a wrong number

It made you chuckle while responding right away.

I'm not the type to do that, don't worry

Oh, I'm glad, would've been heartbroken if you did

Did you go back to the party?

Nah, went straight home. The friend that was with me said he was going to stay longer but I went home

Why did you not go?

The life of the party left

Who?

You?

You rolled your eyes at the comment. This cheeky bastard.

You loved it.

Talking for a few more minutes, your eyelids began to close on their own. Your sleep schedule catching up to you.

It didn't take long until you fell asleep.

After some weeks, your supposed friends stopped texting you. One or two parties where you were left uninvited. It didn't bother you much, but at the same time, you were thinking of what you were missing; overthinking around the way it would've turned out great.

But also how wrong it could've been.

It was almost 11 pm, you've been watching the stories of your friends having fun without you. Nothing new, until a text from Colby made it change.

Haven't seen you at the party

Your heart ached. Someone expecting you was something... new. You were blaming yourself, even though it wasn't really your fault.

Kinda sick. Couldn't go.

Aw, that sucks. Hope you get well soon

It felt wrong to do this, but at the same time, nothing new to you. Trying to cover up the true feelings behind the kind smile you always put up.

Thank you.

A couple of minutes passed before another answer came through.

Party's getting boring, wish you were here

Trying to hype me up, Colby?

Is it working?

A little.

You smiled at his small attempts. He's been texting you enough to know there's been a distance between your group of friends. Some personal information between the both of you getting mixed up through conversations, getting to know eachother in a more personal level.

Him, having such an odd job being a 'ghosthunter' and (somehow worst, or maybe better?) he had proof of it. You, on the other hand, another slave to capitalism. Even worse, a slave to a more toxic relationship than your ex boyfriend. Your friends.

Usually, you wouldn't be the type to open up like this; but one thing turned into another and now here we are. A stranger that knows you better than every single person that's passed by your life, merely because he's asked the right questions at the right time. A master with words.

Sooo can we be honest then? Are you actually sick?

I'm impressed at how well you've come to know me.

Figured. You coming to the party then?

I wasn't invited.

How come? I'm inviting you right now

What?

I can take a plus one with me

I want you to be my plus one

…are you serious? I'm not even like, ready or anything.

Are you even sure? I'm not fun.

Take your time sweetheart. Tell me when I'm able to pass by

Also what do you mean you're not fun? Take that back right now

Your cheeks felt warm. You've come to learn to read emotions though text as the time passed by; knowing when you were really not wanted or knowing when somebody else was interested in things outside your circle.

This, however. These texts from this... guy. They felt genuine.

…

Thank you

It's really no biggie, I want you to come with me (if you want, of course)

So put on something sexy

For the party, of course

You chuckled at the comment. You weren't able to fully comprehend if he was being serious or just as flirtatious as always. But you didn't mind. Right now, you were about to go into a party. Why? God knows.

Maybe you do too, but you wouldn't like to admit it.

Not now, at least.

Standing up and walking toward your wardrobe, you skimmed through it. What should you wear? Something normal as always? Is it even worth it to try and switch it up for a change? You never really tried to make yourself look appealing, there was no reason to anyways.

But this time? Fuck it. It was different. You weren't going with them, you were going with him. You sighed, pushing yourself to wear the most decent looking dress you could find in your closet; fitted with some high heels the same color of the dress.

Finishing off your makeup, you saw your phone light up.

I'm here, take your time

Panicked, you replied.

Thought you were going to wait for me to finish??

I am?

Not in front of my house???

We can leave right away when you're done

Stop arguing, I don't mind waiting here

Come inside at least

Don't mind if I do then

Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren't going to take longer than 5 minutes, but you felt bad leaving him outside. Walking towards your front door, you gulped down the nerves and opened up the door.

He was as fine as always, looking down at his phone before raising his head and looking at your face. His mouth opened slightly, unable to move for a moment.

You were stunning in his eyes. Looking at you up and down, he had to catch his own breath. How was he this lucky to be able to be next to this beauty?

"Is it... too weird? I'm not the type to commonly use these type of clothes..." You almost whispered, doubting your looks.

"You're kidding." He was able to respond. "I've never seen someone look this beautiful." You smiled and rolled your eyes. "I'm serious. Are you seriously not aware."

"Not aware of what?" You asked, a slight frown on your face due to the confusion.

"Of how gorgeous you look?" The frown quickly turned into a surprised look, your cheeks turning red at the revelation.

Hugging slightly your door to try and find comfort, you looked away from his graze. "Get in, I'm still not done." You said and be obliged. Closing the door behind him, you told him to get comfortable while you finished yourself up.

It didn't take you long, fortunately. A few fixes around the eyes and you were basically done. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were satisfied with yourself this time. You didn't feel forced, heck, you felt beautiful. Perhaps it was Colby's comments that affected your mental state, but whatever it was, it felt good.

Walking back towards the man in your living room, you heard him whistle at you, which made you laugh.

"I'm gonna have so many death stares walking with you tonight."

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Nervousness filled you up when you walked inside the party. Holding onto Colby's arm, he could feel your hand shaking. He gave you a reassuring look, one that said "Everything's going to be fine."

And you tried to believe it as much as you could.

Whatever you seemingly expected from the night somehow turned into the greatest parties you've ever experienced.

Perhaps it was because you were with Colby's friends instead of yours.

Maybe it was the fact that you were actually connected into their conversation instead of being pushed out. Being listened to instead of ignored and getting talked over.

Was this what it felt to be having fun? You almost forgot this was what it's supposed to be like. It felt nice.

"I'll be right back. Gotta to to the bathroom." You said standing up from your seat.

"I'll go and get some drinks in the meantime. Anyone wants a refill?" Colby asked, nodding at the requests he was receiving. You smiled at him before walking away.

You were quick in finding the bathroom, finishing what you had to do soon enough and getting out of the room.

Before you started walking towards the group, you got pushed away and in the center of a bunch of girls, smirking at you. Judging you. Your heart sank as fast as you recognized just one of them.

"Who do we have here?" Soph teased, a sly smirk on her face. "Isn't it too late for you? Thought you would've been at home. It's past your bedtime, isn't it?" Laughs were heard from the group surrounding you.

No, no, no. This wasn't a good time for this. You were having fun, you were doing so good! You've never felt better at a party and now all of it was destroyed.

"It's none of your business, Soph." You could hear a gasp after your response. A dramatic, opened mouthed expression on her face.

"Oh, so, now that you've found a new stupid little group of freaks now you think you can talk back at me?" She spat out.

You looked slightly to the side. "You just called yourself a freak." You thought, unable to actually argue back. You felt a hand on your chin, making you look at her directly to her eyes.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She demanded. You gulped, trying to compose yourself as hard as you could just to not shiver under her. You had to be strong, to proof to her you were better.

But it was hard.

"Think your stupid little face will be fixed with a bit of makeup? Ha." She scoffed, looking at your whole outfit this time. "Someone as ugly as you won't be fixed by a little change of outfit. Not even if that friend of yours tells you otherwise. Or maybe not a friend? Who knows? It's not like he's interested in you anyways." She grinned, roughly moving your face towards a specific corner of the group.

And there you saw it, it was Colby. With another girl. Your heart sank, for some reason. Your breath escaped your lips as it got shaky, eyes quickly watering when you saw her get a bit too close to his face while he, with some drinks on his hands, was unable to do anything.

Why were you feeling like this anyways? It's not like you guys were something, were you? Why did it hurt this much? Your expression softened at the illusion you had made so quickly. So dumb, of course he wasn't interested.

"What's wrong? Did you silly little confidence already shatter? That was so easy." She almost sounded dissapointed. A push on your back was enough for you to fall onto the ground. It's not like you weren't about to anyways, your legs were already shaking at the mere thought that everything that has been going on was a mere lie.

A setup.

You heard laugher, whilst barely holding yourself up by the palms of your hands. "How pathetic. You shouldn't have even come. Now you're just being a bother to another group, another dead weight."

And they were right, you believed they were right. You believed them so easily that it was almost funny.

You could hardly breathe, the tears dwelling onto your eyes as a thick blurriness covered your vision. You couldn't hold it anymore, the stress... it all came to the surface quick enough. The music dissipating into the distance as you heard yourself breathing heavily; the only sound you could focus on.

The sound of you losing your mind. Your heart pounding hard. Too hard, perhaps. It ached. You could feel the frown on your face while the tears kept on flowing.

Come on, you were better than this. Why are you acting this way? You can easily act neutral like always, smiling, ignoring all of these feelings.

But breathing was hard, the murmurs of other people being only that; whispers you could barely understand. You felt like you had no control of yourself, like you were trapped in this center of humiliation of people you once called friends.

But they never intended to be your friends from the start; they were only using you.

This wasn't the first time either. Over and over again you were considered the center of humiliation of these people, the only difference is that this time was the last straw that broke off the mask you tried to so desperately to keep on.

A pair of hands began shaking you, trying to make you stand up from the floor. You couldn't pay attention to who it was, as you were busy enough dealing with the sudden lost of oxygen.

Maybe even a lost of self.

Barely able to walk due to your legs feeling numb from the unbearable feeling in your chest, whoever it was helped you out and moved your arm around their neck. You're not exactly sure what happened, but before you could even get yourself together, you noticed you were outside.

Still breathing heavily, finally, you looked at the figure that helped you out.

Colby.

It only made your panic attack worse. You started crying harder when you saw his face. The pain of being a fool was covered in your face.

"Hey, come on, breathe." He tried to give you your space. Far enough to let you calm down, close enough to hold you up. But he ended up hugging you closer when he noticed how broken you seemed.

You didn't hesitate and held him tighter. "I'm sorry, I.. I... I sh-shouldn't..." You sniffed, trying to find the right words to say. You felt the urge to try and explain yourself to him. Your vision was blurry and finding yourself choking with your own words.

"Let it all out, don't worry. I'm here for you, okay?" He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his hands caressing your back as he spoke. "Breathe. Calm down your breathing first, sweetheart. It'll be alright."

Shaking in his arms, you found yourself comforted by his scent. Breathing in his cologne felt almost hypnotizing. His way of calming you down absolutely worked. For the most part. Sniffing, you tried to explain yourself, trying to argue to yourself that these feelings shouldn't have appeared, it was all a mere accident.

But your cries were more than enough to make him understand at least half of the situation. He was sure it was your friends, but for some reason you were pleading for forgiveness to him. "Hey... you don't owe me an explination, yeah?" He wiped a few lost tears through the run down mascara and cupped your head in his hands, smiling back at you. "Want me to take you home?"

You were barely able to respond with a little nod. It was all he needed.

It was a decently quiet ride. Colby took it upon himself to try and make you feel alright, holding onto your shaky hand and softly caressing it.

When he parked infront of your home, as he was about to walk out of the car, you stopped him. Looking back at you, he understood and sat back down. You didn't want to go inside, or maybe you didn't want to stand up overall, which he didn't mind if it meant for you to feel alright.

With your shivering lips and puffy eyes, you sniffed whilst wiping some dry tears from your cheeks. The stress has calmed down and you're able to breathe normally once again.

He was patient with you. He didn't try and make you speak up or got tired, he waited. Waited until you said something or wanted to move.

"Sorry." You finally spoke. He kept his eyes on your eyes, waiting for you to elaborate. "I was... a mess, it shouldn't have happened." You wiped some tears before looking at him. He seemed... confused.

"What do you mean it shouldn't have happened?" He asked.

"You're just... trying to have fun while I'm here just... ruining your night. I told you I wasn't fun. You could've found someone else to go with, I-"

"Who said I wanted someone else?" He interrupted.

It made you quiet down for a few seconds before talking back. "Well, I mean..." You sniffed. "You were... with... there was someone else, I just thought... you just... wanted someone... to... um... I don't know... hang around with, not something to carry." It was hard for you to explain yourself.

What were you even trying to explain? Were you just upset because you 'ruined his night' or because of something else? You were confused. "Who? The annoying girl? She randomly came to me, I couldn't even move her away because I had the drinks on my hands."

Annoying was a word that stood out to you. It seemed your overthinking got the best of you. Perhaps whatever you believed wasn't true? Looking at his face dumbfounded, he smirked. "What? Were you jealous?"

That was another word that stood out. Your cheeks fluttered and you murmured to yourself whilst looking away. "As if..." You could hear his contagious laugh after your words, making you smile slightly.

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again.

"I saw it. Last time. Your 'friends'... The way she didn't even hesitate on making herself the victim when she saw fit. I had to control myself that night, that plastic face of hers was about to change shape if I didn't." He laughed to himself.

You were quiet, so he continued. "Honestly, it made me so mad that even though I was going to try and talk to you anyways, I had to make sure you didn't go back to them. I didn't want you to. You don't deserve friends like that, no one does." His brows furrowed at the thought.

"...It's not like I wanted to, either. I guess I just... got used to it." You whispered, looking at his hands covering yours. He held them tighter and got slightly closer to kiss your forehead, giving you a soft smile afterwards.

"I don't know if you'll ever try to trust again after all of that, but... would you give me a chance to be your friend? For now, who knows if I might level up later on." It made you smile. It always made you smile.

And you wanted to trust. To trust him, even though it might break your heart in the long run. Right now, you just wanted to feel safe, and he was the safest bet. "I guess I can give you a chance. And... let's see if you're able to upgrade sooner than later." He could only smile brighter, kissing your knuckles before changing his tone of voice to a more energetic one.

"So, wanna get drunk in your house? I have a Jack Daniel's in the trunk."

"Wha..."

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this was lying on my drafts for too long unnecesarily- hope you liked it!

also i put specifically that one song but there are so many that can be part of this trope, it's just too much for me to add lol

~nikkõ

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most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 8 months

Text

Good Omens: Lockdown, Aziraphale’s SAD-ASS desk, and how they get to 'Our bookshop' in S2

Welcome to part 2 of me reading reeaally far into the Good Omens: Lockdown video! (part 1 from Crowley's POV here) This post assumes the item choices in the Lockdown visuals are intentional. What follows is going to be my headcanon regardless, but if you're into the Word of God, Lockdown is canon 'If you want it to be.' and I want it to be, sooo checkmate! >;D

Also this is something of a long boi (~13 minute read without following the links >.>), so if you're into unhinged analysis of details and literary references that indicate Aziraphale is in his longing era and want to learn more about author and fave-of-Gaiman, G.K. Chesterton, either get comfy or mark this to read later when you have time!

C: What? A: *somehow surprised even though HE CALLED* A-ah, hello. It's me! C: I know it's you, Aziraphale. A: *regaining composure* Yes, well, just calling to see how you were doing in lockdown.

The video starts with shots of Aziraphale and Crowley's da Vinci sketches (and some sushi remnants)... Babygirl is flipping through the time-goes-too-fast-for-me version of a facebook album, thinking about his crush. vERY chill of him. (also the paper looks new and he's eating on top of them, suggesting these are prints and he has multiple copies of them... sooo normal)

If we look closer at the still of Crowley's portrait, we can see part of the spine of a book that reads Kei- Chesterto-. This is, of course, author Gilbert Keith Chesterton, to whom Neil and Terry (and Crowley) dedicated Good Omens:

The authors would like to join the demon Crowley in dedicating this book to the memory of G. K. Chesterton A man who knew what was going on.

In this post by @azfellandco about Chesterton, you can see a photo of the dedication page and also read the book excerpt where Crowley describes Chesterton as 'the only poet in the twentieth century to even come close to the Truth'.

C: I'm bored. I'm so very very bored - transcendentally bored. There's nothing to do here!

As Crowley is explaining his nap contingency plan, we get a shot of Aziraphale picking up his mug of hot chocolate, then the image below of the 2/3rds gone bottle of Courvoisier cognac (i mean maybe he is baking with it let's not jump to conclusions), and then the stack of books beside a framed woodcut print of witches dancing with devils...

...that I used reverse image search to trace back to page 17 of a book from 1720 called The history of witches and wizards: giving a true account of all their tryals in England, Scotland, Swedeland, France, and New England; with their confession and condemnation.

Interestingly, the text above and below the picture reads:

At their Meeting they have usually Wine, or good Beer, Cakes, Meat, or the like; they Eat and Drink really: When they meet in their Bodies, Dance also, and have Musick...

Beside the framed print of Aziraphale's idea of a really great night out is a stack of books that includes (going from top to bottom):

Homer's The Iliad, Book 2

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer's Manual of the Fifteenth Century by Richard Kieckhefer

a book by Hilaire Belloc with no visible title

The Club of Queer Trades by G.K. Chesterton

The Iliad (according to sparknotes) has the following major themes:

....Interesting, ok. Book 2 in particular starts with a god (Zeus) messing with someone (Agamemnon) via a dream that says he will be successful in taking Troy if he launches a full assault, balls to the (city) wall. Agamemnon, who is supposed to be leading the Achaean army to conquer Troy, believes the dream but then in a weird twist decides to test his army and be like 'jk actually I'm giving up and going home' and then is mad when the soldiers are like 'sick, to the boats!' Then Odysseus, who sparknotes tells me is the most eloquent of the Achaeans, gives an impressive speech to inspire the troops and reminds them that they vowed 'that they would not abandon their struggle until the city fell.' ...No way that could worsen Aziraphale's internal conflict about being a bad Angel who thwarted the Great Plan. >.>; Orthodoxy we'll get to in a second.

Then there's Forbidden Rites which is a medieval necromancy guide translated from Latin with added commentary - Aziraphale is perhaps studying occult topics in an attempt to understand Crowley better? And then there's the Hilaire Belloc book on top of the second Chesterton book, a collection of related stories/episodes?, The Club of Queer Trades. The book's Wikipedia page says:

Each story in the collection is centered on a person who is making his living by some novel and extraordinary means. To gain admittance [to the Club of Queer Trades] one must have invented a unique means of earning a living and the subsequent trade being the main source of income.

Aziraphale and Crowley have rather novel/extraordinary jobs and they're both peculiar-queer and gay-queer. Neat. The narrator in the book is named Charlie "Cherub" Swinburne - also neat. >.> He goes on an adventure with his friend, a retired judge and president of the Club of Queer Trades, Basil Grant, (who Oct 2021 GoodReads reviewer Cecily said is "described as mad, mystical, and a poet, with almost no friends, but who “would talk to any one anywhere”) and Basil's younger brother, a private detective named Inspector Constable Rupert Grant. The last line of the book is:

Thus our epic ended where it had begun, like a true cycle. (something something "It starts, as it will end, with a garden.")

Anyway, the Belloc book and The Club of Queer Trades are placed back to back in such a way that they almost look like they could be one book with two different aesthetics, or... two halves of a pantomime beast?! (stay with me I needed a segue)

Belloc and Chesterton have what is essentially a ship name:

It was coined by George Bernard Shaw (if you are like me and didn't know why you've heard of him: he wrote, among other things, Pygmalion, which was adapted into My Fair Lady). Shaw apparently liked to gossip about Belloc and Chesterton with H.G. Wells (again if you're uncultured like me: he wrote, among other science fiction-y things, The War of the Worlds).

In the Feb 15, 1908 issue of The New Age newspaper, Shaw said:

He continued:

"Chesterton and Belloc are so unlike that they get frightfully into one another’s way. ... They are unlike in everything except the specific literary genius and delight in play-acting that is common to them, and that threw them into one another’s arms.”

Shaw says Belloc is 'a bit of a rowdy', and 'cannot bear isolation'. Hmm. Then he says Chesterton is 'friendly, easy-going, unaffected, gentle, magnanimous, and genuinely democratic'. HMM.

“They share one failing—almost the only specific trait they have in common except their literary talent. That failing is, I grieve to say, addiction to the pleasures of the table.”

Ok ok I think we can see where this is going.

(^ from Staged S3E6)

Now, someone did ask Neil Gaiman about this similarity, and he said the Lockdown video was filmed by Rob Wilkins in Terry Pratchett's library, and that he suspects 'Belloc is there because he was on Terry's shelves beside Chesterton.' And it MAY VERY WELL BE that NONE (0) of the book titles are meant in any way other than 'these are books from Sir Pratchett's library that looked nice on camera and ofc we wanted some Chesterton refs and maybe some demon-y stuff for Crowley' but that is WAY less fun so I am choosing to take them as intentional: these are books Aziraphale is actually reading (along with the sushi and many cakes he is actually eating). Let's put ourselves in Aziraphale's shoes and try to imagine how it would be to read this stuff during lockdown while you pine for a demon with slinky hips after you got in big trouble at work for Armageddoff (and work happens to have defined your worldview and general purpose in life).

C: welll... ngk then people might follow my bad example and get ill. Or even die—

As Crowley acknowledges that he ought to be out making peoples' lives worse, we see Orthodoxy by Chesterton open on the desk.

Orthodoxy is described as a ‘spiritual autobiography’ and is considered a classic of Christian apologetics, i.e. the religious discipline of defending religious doctrines (in this case, Catholic) through systematic argumentation and discourse. Wikipedia also says Chesterton's The Everlasting Man contributed to C.S. Lewis' conversion to Christianity, so overall it sounds like he must've been fairly convincing. (and so maybe reading it also poked at that work-related-but-religious-trauma-adjacent stuff Aziraphale has going on?)

You can read Orthodoxy (and probably any of the books I mention bc theyre all old) on project gutenberg but I will include this part of what is shown on the righthand page bc it just reminds me (and so probably Azirapalala as well) of a certain angel squeaking happily at a nebula:

"I felt economical about the stars as if they were sapphires (they are called so in Milton's Eden): I hoarded the hills. For the universe is a single jewel, and while it is a natural cant to talk of a jewel as peerless and priceless, of this jewel it is literally true. This cosmos is indeed without peer and without price: for there cannot be another one."

Ok great, so Aziraphale is diving into the works of one of Crowley's favorite authors bc he misses him, that's cute. What else? Oh he already wrote him a letter right before calling - THE WICK ON THE WAX STICK FOR THE SEAL IS STILL SMOKING. sO CASUAL asdashgfjds

something something 'either call on the phone and talk, or appear mysteriously; don't do both'

When Aziraphale gets to 'I've never had so few customers, not in two hundred years!' We get a close up of this glass of cognac with droplets still on the side — I take back what I said about baking, Aziraphale is drinking it~

He's not drinking a wine, eg Châteauneuf-du-pape, which would be ~14% alcohol by volume (ABV), or a sherry (15-20% ABV); he is drinking Courvoisier cognac, a hard liquor (40% ABV). Crowley's Talisker whisky is 48.5% while we are on the topic. This is stronger than what Aziraphale usually drinks which means... he could be a bit tipsy.

As Aziraphale starts talking about the would-be cash-box burglary, we get this wide shot of the desk:

In the top left hand corner, we see two stacks of books, most (all?) of which appear to be Chesterton when I zoom in. Some of them have Chesterton's name visible on them, others have the publisher name 'Darwen Finlayson' on them, which according to my googling is a house that published several of Chesterton's works. If Chesterton was truly 'a man who knew what was going on', then perhaps this is Aziraphale seeking not just to feel closer to Crowley, but also to make sense of the warring ideas in his mind. Interestingly, Chesterton has also been described as 'The Eccentric Prince of Paradox'.

C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth?

The screen then shows two occult-y books and a flickering candle (lower left image). Then Aziraphale explains about his cake~, and as Crowley cuts him off because he's about to nervously ask to come over bc he is so so lonely & down bad for a certain angelic bookworm, we see a map of Oxfordshire on top of Pilgrim's Progress (lower right image).

The two books beside the candle are Satanism and Witchcraft (presumably the 1862 book by Jules Michelet that comes up when I search the title), and another called Magic: An Occult Primer.

Satanism and Witchcraft is described on Wikipedia as 'notable for being one of the first sympathetic histories of witchcraft' and says 'Michelet was one of the first few people to attempt to show the sociological explanation of the Witch Trials.’ Sympathy for people who like to eat/drink/dance with demons, if you will?

Magic: An Occult Primer is a 1972 book by David Conway, a Welsh (CACHU HWCH!) magus and is described as 'a seminal work that brought magical training to the every-magician'. It also includes an appendix called The Occult Who's Who, which is somewhat reminiscent of Hastur's Furfur's book about angels. In Chapter 11: A Word About Demons, it says in regard to summoning them:

"Assuming that the form has turned up in the right place, it will soon begin to act and talk in a very friendly manner; do not forget, however, that its winning ways conceal a sinister intention-- namely, to get the adept out of the circle, and into its clutches.”

...okay?? Aziraphale's desk has a flickering candle on it throughout the video, and we get a close up of the flame when Crowley offers to slither over:

and just like that, Aziraphale has summoned a demon~~

Naturally, he freaks out:

A: *panicking*Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over.

But why? Isn't this what he wanted? Let's go back to the Pilgrim's Progress shot from right before the successful demon summoning and zoom in:

In a similar vein to Orthodoxy, Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan, is an allegorical Puritan conversion narrative. Christian is the main character / stand in for anyone who wants to be in the allegory and Hopeful is well, hopeful, from what I gather. A slightly larger continuous excerpt is here for the curious, but here are some bits I thought were especially interesting in the part of the book shown above:

Christian: Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind again? Hopeful: Many things; as, If I did but meet a good man in the streets; or, If I have heard any read in the Bible; or, If mine head did begin to ache; or, If I were told that some of my neighbors were sick; or, If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead; or, If I thought of dying myself; or, If I heard that sudden death happened to others; But especially when I thought of myself that I must quickly come to judgment.

Perhaps the pandemic is bringing Aziraphale's "sins" to mind again, on top of the whole choosing faces thing to avoid 'quickly coming to judgment'. And then:

Hopeful: I thought I must endeavor to mend my life; for else, thought I, I am sure to be lost forever. Christian: And did you endeavor to mend? Hopeful: Yes, and fled from not only my sins, but sinful company too, and betook me to religious duties, as praying, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbors, etc.

UM??? While I can't say about the praying or weeping for sin, he has definitely been reading and the whole 'giving a good talking to' the burglars could be 'speaking truth to [the] neighbors'...?

Anyway to recap:

Aziraphale has been poring over books about dark magic and demons as well as a ton of books by an author that Crowley loves and who formed a partnership w a very different person in a sort of yin-yang, pantomime beast situation

He has been looking at pictures that remind him of their fun times w Leo in Florence and eating sushi and cake cake cake (and forgiving sinners) and drinking hot chocolate and cognac trying to fill a void but now he's tipsy so he wrote Crowley a letter, stamped it with a wax seal and then thought 'I should call her' BUT

His recent brush with attempted death penalties, the death toll of the pandemic, and some of the religious books he was reading have also filled him with guilt/fear over disobeying Heaven, who he knows could still be watching him and Crowley, so he feels much more conflicted than usual AND

He probably has some inkling that he wants to go ape shit on that ox rib if it comes over to hang out (lol editing to add bc i remembered ox rib discourse: ape shit in an emotional way! whether you hc them as ace or not I just think he really likes him and I’m using ox ribs as a stand in for general forbidden joy/love, not specifically sexy stuff)

So he has to say no.

Anything else might cause him to spontaneously discorporate into a plume of pining and cognitively dissonant gay smoke, which may be all well and good if you only think there's a God, but if you KNOW it and the angels are absolutely recording you and Heaven just tried to kill you and your wife colleague, it's... kind of a big deal.

C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

We don't get to hear Aziraphale's response, but besties you and I both know he is not feeling tickety-boo. He spent like a month putting off calling Crowley (UK lockdowns started end of March, the call is at the beginning of May), finally got drunk and said what the Hell, it'll just be a fun flirty chat in between his temptations, and then it turned out Crowley was depressed and not going anywhere and Aziraphale made him even sadder. And then it got worse because it wasn't all over in July, or in October, even.

I think Aziraphale ends up with a lot of time and brain space in which to think about how Orthodoxy and Pilgrim's Progress were only written to guide *mortals* and how it really wouldn't be so bad if he spent more time with Crowley, would it? Heaven hasn't reached out in actual years again, things feel safer. Crowley is essentially Good and spending time with him would be sort of ministering to the downtrodden and afflicted, and Aziraphale does miss reporting his good deeds (lol you know, whatever rationalizations you need to get you there).

More than anything, he thinks about how hollow everything feels without Crowley; how no mouthful of food or drink tastes as satisfying in his absence because it wasn't ever just about the 'gross matter'...

So when lockdowns end, Aziraphale begins to summon his demon again, but this time with much less inner struggling. It all comes so naturally, when you let it. By the beginning of Season 2 in 2023, they seem delightfully comfortable with their shared routines and places (see also this lovely post by @nightgoodomens). Our car. Our bookshop.

Aziraphale might take longer to catch up, but he does get there.

(SHHH DON'T THINK ABOUT EPISODE 6! STOP! I'M HANGING UP!)

“The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost.” ― G.K. Chesterton

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zorosimpclub · 2 days

Text

A new life – Toji Comfort (SFW)

⊹˚. ♡ Summary: In which Toji is hired to assassinate the reader but ends up comforting her instead.

⊹˚. ♡ Trigger warning: implied severely depressed reader, implied attempt, happy ending, comfort

⊹˚. ♡ Word count: 3.6k

⊹˚. ♡ Author's note: sorry I've been MIA – life is hectic, hope you're all okay! enjoy this angsty but happy ending comfort piece <3

“Toji Zenin. Handsome and knows it. Hired to assassinate me. Motivated solely by financial gain.”

She said out loud to him, sensing his presence behind her, not looking up from her glass.

"That's me, spot on."

The words that left his lips were low, calm, and coolly spoken. He had a habit of speaking with an even tone regardless of the circumstances or context. He had been standing there behind her, taking in every detail.

His words were short, but he took a moment to drink in her image before him. She wasn't just beautiful, she was breathtakingly gorgeous. Despite this, his eyes maintained a steady, unreadable demeanour as he answered her question without adding anything else.

She chuckled a little and motioned for him to sit down beside her, sliding a full glass of whiskey to him.

He paused for a brief yet significant moment before he slowly took a seat next to her. He took a sip from the glass of whiskey offered to him before he replied, "You sound rather nonchalant about the fact that I'm here to take your life."

“Mm. Yeah. Doesn’t really bother me.” She took a sip and looked ahead of her, watching a couple canoodling together. Couples made her sick. It was only a matter of time before one of them disappointed the other.

He took in her words and her mannerisms, his gaze shifting from her to the couple briefly, before he looked back at her with a raised brow, "I see... you really aren't fazed by the fact that I'm here to end you? You must be a very confident woman then."

“No. Just a woman who has nothing left to be here for.”

The quietness in the air was palpable as his eyes remained on her. It was a somewhat unexpected reply from her. His lips pulled into a thin line, and his eyebrows slanted down, his eyes becoming cold and sharp, but they quickly resumed their usual neutral expression. He took a drink from his glass, "You really have nothing left to exist for?"

“Nope.”

"Huh..." He spoke with a slight air of curiosity. But his tone quickly returned to its previous stoic state. "That's quite pitiful. Mind if I ask why?"

“So guy who hired you to assassinate me is actually my ex boyfriend. Well, he was married. And I found out. Turns out my 4 years with him was just a lie.” She downed her drink, it was bitter but not as bitter as her current reality.

"Ah, a typical married-man affair then." He said with a soft chuckle. He was only slightly amused by the situation. The fact that his mission was due to a failed relationship wasn't really worth his attention. He took another sip.

His eyes scanned her, taking in the way she was sitting, the way she had spoken... she clearly had a nihilistic attitude toward life. She was apathetic. Something about it was compelling. His head tilted slightly to the side without him realising it, as his eyes never broke away from her. He took a drink. "Tell me, miss..."

“(Y/N) Fushiguro.”

“That's a pretty name." He spoke in the same calm that he always does, but in her presence, he felt somewhat differently. Maybe it was due to her beauty, maybe it was due to her unusual attitude, eitherway, he was intrigued. The way she accepted her impending assassination was oddly intriguing to him.

"So... is this a habit of yours? Drinking, I mean.”

“Only when I find out my last 4 years of my life was a lie.” She chuckled dryly, swirling the cup in her hand… not taking any notice of the environment around her.

"So? You're still young. Your whole life ahead of you, yet you'd just willingly let it go..." He spoke with a hint of a sigh.

“And you? Your story I mean.”

His gaze remained on her, unwavering. "You're asking me about my story? Me?" The question took him by surprise, but it didn't take him long to answer it.

"Why should I divulge such details to you?" He spoke with a soft smirk.

“Because you look like you’re lonely.”

The words that she spoke were like daggers to his heart. They struck him right where it hurt. He was silent for a while, not responding, simply continuing to stare at her. It was difficult to find an appropriate answer without betraying his feelings and his emotions. Eventually, he responded, "And what made you believe that?"

"Your eyes, they look lonely." She said softly, treading lightly.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly. She was perceptive enough to notice the look of his eyes and interpret it as loneliness. But he wouldn't show that he was slightly touched by her words. He was silent, the only sound coming from him was the sound of his breathing.

Then he spoke with a slight grin, "Well, you're not entirely wrong. The eyes are indeed a window into one's heart..."

She smiled a little, she was breath taking, "That's true. So make it quick."

"Make what quick?" He smirked and raised a brow, his tone was mocking. "Are you telling me to assassinate you?"

"Precisely, that's what you're here for right?"

His grin only widens. "You're so calm about the fact that you're going to die... Do you have no desire to live at all?" He spoke the words in an aloof demeanor, but he was genuinely curious, something about her tugged at him. He could have just finished his mission and then walked away. It was good money too. But he just couldn’t for some reason.

She looked up at him emotionlessly, "I mean, there's nothing left for me."

"Hmmm... no fear... no attachments, no desire to keep living... not even a single bit of emotion." His eyes remained on her, analysing her, but his expression remained unchanged. He wondered how someone could be so apathetic.

"Are you?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, and a smile played at the edges of his lip, "Am I what exactly?"

"Happy?"

"Happy?" She caught him off guard with her word choice. His usual aloof demeanor cracked a little, and he let out a small chuckle.

"Ah, that word. I don't remember the last time I was truly happy, if ever. But no, in this moment, the answer is no."

She took his hand and placed it on hers. A look of surprise crossed his expression for a second before he looked back up at her. His eyes remained on her as his hand remained on hers, but neither of them spoke. A quiet tension filled the air.

"Toji was it? How about yourself?"

"Someone to live for?" He paused for a little before he continued. "Not anymore... At least that's what I say to myself." He chuckled dryly. "If you're asking me about my past, then yes, I did have someone to live for until I lost them."

"Then you know what it feels like." She said softly, looking into the distance.

He didn’t speak. His words were true, and he could empathise with her situation. Though, there were many differences between her and him, but their pain was one and the same. He remained still, thinking for a second, not breaking contact as his hand remained on hers.

"Would you want things to end?"

It was a bold question coming from her. No one had ever asked him something like that. Not like his answer would make a difference, but he would answer truthfully eitherway. He shifted his weight, but his hand didn’t leave hers, "Sometimes... yeah."

In her presence, he felt a strange comfort. It was unusual for him, and it was quite unexpected. But still, he felt at ease with her next to him. A light warmth washed over him, and for a brief moment, the loneliness he always felt was diminished. The silence between them continued for a while, the only sounds were their quiet breathing.

He couldn’t deny that he was somewhat broken. A loneliness that had been with him for most of his life, the pain of loss that ate at his heart, the despair that he felt on a daily basis, they were all slowly eroding him. She was broken, too, he could tell that much. The thought made him somewhat sad, knowing all that had happened to her.

"What are we but two souls that are lost?" She whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

He watched as she calmly drank her drink, taking in every movement she made. Though his response had been slow and hesitating, he felt something stir within him at her suggestion.

"You know..." He spoke after a few moments, "There are many things that we don't know. How life would play out, if we would be truly happy... or would our lives end up worse off."

She traced his lip scar, "You... this has a dark story, doesn’t it?”

The touch of her fingernails running against his scar only gave him goosebumps. She was right in guessing that his scar was the product of the pain he endured from his clan. He didn't say a word, but from the slight tightening of his jaw, it revealed the truth without the need for words.

She stroked it gently and smiled, her smile not reaching her eyes. He didn't pull away, but his expression held a touch of surprise. They had only known for each other for a short time, yet her action had caught him off guard. His hand squeezed hers in response, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Goodbye, Toji." She whispered and got up, pulling on her jacket weaving in and out of partygoers to leave the bar.

He was frozen in his seat, his mind trying to make sense of her last words. It didn't take him long to reach the conclusion that those were her final words. But he wouldn't let her simply go without trying to show her that live was worth living. He doesn’t know why he cared or why he quickly dashed after her, rushing through the streets to search for her. But he did.

She stood by the bridge, overlooking the city. Watching as the streetlights twinkled softly in the distance, the wind blowing through her wispy hair.

He soon found her by the side of the bridge. He slowed his pace as he approached her from behind, trying to gauge the situation. He could tell that she was standing near the bridge with one goal in mind.

"Wait..."

She turned to him, "Toji?"

His eyes remained on her as her gaze locked with his. "Your last words... they were goodbye."

"You figured it out, huh?"

"I'm not letting you give up." He responded softly, his voice holding a hint of determination. He took a few steps forward and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, his breath catching slightly.

"...Why? Doesn't this make your job easier?"

"Easier?" His voice contained a touch of disbelief. "That's what you think? That it's all about a job?" He sighed, his grip tightening around her shoulder. "You're a person, just like me... a human being. And I would be a terrible person, if I just stood by and let you... throw it all away."

She chuckled dryly, "You're a hired assassin."

"Even an assassin has a heart." The hand on her shoulder remained firm, and he looked right into her eyes, his gaze intent. "And as a person with a heart, I could never stand to watch you give up like this."

He saw a glimpse of her inner torment as the quivering of her lips suggested she was trying to hold back her emotions. He felt pity and sadness for her. But there was only one thing that he could do in that moment. He silently brought his index finger to her lips and gently traced it against them. Slowly, his touch lingered as his finger stayed there for a couple of seconds before he withdrew it. "Don't."

As his finger ran against her lips, her heart skipped a beat, and she could feel something stir within her. A surge of adrenaline rushed through her system, stirring excitement and something else she couldn't quite define. A strange feeling rose within her heart, and for a brief moment, she felt her chest grow tight as she tried to breathe. In that singular act, he had broken the ice between them. It was only a touch of a stranger, but it felt like so much more.

"I have no where left to go... no money to my name...this is easier."

The words had caught him off guard, and he felt a strange twinge of concern and sadness as his eyes remained on her. She sounded... so hopeless. Without a trace of hesitance, he stepped forward, his body filling the gap between them. His hands gently rested on her shoulders, and he looked into her eyes. He was close, very close to her, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he spoke quietly once again, his voice containing a hint of urgency. "You have me."

"You don’t even know me.”

"A stranger can become a companion, and maybe even more." He spoke softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "Let me be the person by your side. I'll give you a reason to try and live..."

She looked up at him, tears welling up in her eyes, "Why would you do that for me...?"

“You're deserving of love.” He said simply enough, his hold on her shoulder tightening. "You're broken and hurt, but I don't see you as a pathetic, nobody has been. I see a person, a human being who's suffered too much in her life. And you deserve to be loved, cared for, and cherished."

Her breath hitched as she searched his eyes for deception, but she couldn't find any.

He was being truthful. Every word that he had spoken was sincere. He didn't see her as pathetic in any way. He saw her for who she was... a human.

"And even though we met for just a short while, I feel a connection between us. I feel it in my gut and in my heart that you and I have much more to give each other. You're not alone anymore. I'm here...."

He instinctively wrapped his arm around her and he felt her body pressed against his own as she hugged him close. He was taken aback by her embrace as he hadn't felt another body this close to his in years. Gentle sobs eminated from her chest as she buried herself into his, allowing his warmth to comfort her. He allowed the embrace to continue, and the longer she stayed within his arms, the more his heart raced.

He could feel himself becoming attached to her, but he didn't mind.

A sudden snowflake brushed her cheeks, and they both looked up to see the lone one softly flutter down to the ground. The night sky was filled with a soft flurry of snow, and the view was breathtaking. His eyes stayed locked on the falling snowflakes, fascinated with their beauty and graceful movements. As his gaze slowly moved back to hers, he noticed the small droplets of moisture on her cheek. He gently brushed them away with the pad of his thumb, and their faces remained close to each other, his heartbeat increasing with every passing moment.

"I..." She trailed off, looking into his eyes defeated by her own thoughts.

He remained silent and kept watching her with a slight smile on his lips, his eyes never leaving her own. The snowfall slowly increased in its intensity, covering the ground in a white blanket, and a gentle wind danced around them. The night sky was beautiful, and their small, intimate moment felt like time itself had stopped. The tension and excitement were building in the air, and his heartbeat was steadily growing faster, his breath coming in a little short.

"I want to live..."

His own heart jumped with joy at her words, and he closed the gap between them. He embraced her once again and pulled her close to his chest. His hand tightened around her shoulder, and he spoke softly, his voice tinged with emotion.

"Then live..." He gently brushed the tears off her cheeks and looked straight into her eyes, his gaze intent and unwavering.

His breath brushed her own, and his other hand moved from her shoulder to the base of her neck, fingers grazing it ever so gently. Then, the lightness of their breaths suddenly grew heavier, as if their breathing was in sync with each other. He remained so close to her that he could feel the heat of her body against his own. His gaze never leaving hers, their eyes locked and their lips mere inches apart.

As the space between them finally closed, the moment exploded with a powerful shock. It was as if, in that single instant, the tension that had built between them, the excitement, and the buildup of their breath, all released in an intense burst. They had finally come together, their lips finally meeting in a fiery, passionate kiss. Their mouths entwined, their tongues intertwined, their breathing intertwined, and their hearts beat as one. The intensity of their kiss only grew as they remained locked in it, their breath becoming faster and more frenzied as the moment intensified.

"Did you...feel that too?"

"...Yes," he replied with a breathy voice, still coming down from the incredible high of their kiss. The nearness of her skin still lingered in his senses, and his heart continued to beat at a rapid pace. "I felt it..." His eyes remained locked on hers, his gaze not faltering. "I felt it all.."

His gaze remained locked on hers. They shared a silent moment between them, their eyes remaining connected as they were still processing the sudden rush of emotions from their kiss. The tension was palpable in the air, as if they were still bound by that powerful surge of emotions from moments ago. He saw her mouth open slightly, as if trying to say something...

She smiled a little, "Looks like you failed your mission."

A smirk tugged on his lips, and his gaze softened slightly when she smiled. "Failed?" He asked, his tone now filled with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah, you were hired to assassinate me, yet instead you took me into your life."

"And I don't see that as a failure," he replied, his voice becoming softer and more vulnerable. "On the contrary, in my book," he added, his voice picking up a teasing tone again. "I'd say this was a remarkable success."

“Take me home…”

"Home?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with surprise. Then a sly grin appeared on his lips, and his arms tightened around her. "Okay..." He paused and added, "But there are conditions.”

"What conditions?"

He pulled her slightly closer as she shifted her body, resting her head on his shoulders. He looked at her for a moment and spoke softly, his breath soft on her skin. "One..." he started, his voice slightly rumbling. "You must promise to never give up to this world. Never let anyone or anything take away your worth. Always believe in yourself. And... never, ever give in to despair..."

"The second condition..." he continued softly, his breath still light on her skin as his thumb continued the soothing gesture, gently wiping away her tears. "Is that you must give yourself a chance. Give life another shot."

He let out a small breath, relieved that he had gotten her to agree to give herself another chance. “The last condition…” he started, and as he spoke, he felt the tension grow once again, the excitement palpable in the air.

The snow gently coated the ground around them as the silent night carried only the sound of the flakes slowly falling down, the silence only momentarily interrupted by their breath. “Is that…” he paused and cleared his throat, making sure to find the right words, “you must promise to let me guide you. To let me protect you. To let me try and love you…”

She felt her tears well up again. His grip on her shoulder tightened again as he felt her body tremble with the sudden urge to cry. He knew the words had hit home for her, and he felt a surge of protective fondness for her, his thumb gently stroking her cheek where the tears were running down. It was a tender gesture, and his eyes remained on her.

"Don't," he whispered softly, his tone carrying a hint of concern. "No more tears..."

She grinned as he wiped her eyes, "A new life."

"A new life," he repeated with a smirk, and his hands moved to run through her hair, letting his fingers drift down to brush her cheeks, and his gaze never left her own, still locked onto her eyes.

"Together." he added softly.

The night was still, and every sound had grown quiet around them, as if the world had stopped to witness this intimate moment. The snow continued its silent descent, covering them in a white blanket as the atmosphere grew heavy. His fingers remained on her cheeks, his gaze never leaving her eyes.

His heartbeat was a steady thump in his chest, his chest moving slightly with each breath. Their lips were just mere inches away, their breaths brushing against each other just slightly. Each moment seemed to stretch out infinitely as their eyes remained locked on each other.

#jjk fanfic #toji fanfic #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk men x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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orbital-inclination · 1 year

Note

I requested more of the scenario Molt meeting og nightmare

I'm sorry for the wait anon! For a change of pace, you get a one-shot this time! word count: 3411 general content warning for canon typical violence and angst.

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

Something grainy, like gravel and sand, crunched under the soles of his boots as he shuffled back a step. One looping tendril made contact with a roughly cut boulder behind him. The height of the stone reached his hip. Clumsily, he ran his phalanges along its surface. He stepped around it and stopped once he stood on the south side, uncertain of how to proceed from there.

It was rare that he found himself in a space so wide open without someone nearby. He’d like to think he was better at navigating now than he had been when he was younger. Yet, regardless of how much time passed, he could never seem to quite outgrow the sudden spike of anxiety he felt whenever he entered a space that seemed... empty.

He didn’t know what he was walking towards or away from. He could be approaching a canyon for all he knew.

A steady, lonely wind howled above him. It caught the tail of his tunic and the fabric slapped against his side. Something rustled in the distance.

The wind turned cold.

Ley lines of magic, negative and positive, wrapped around this world in a vast net of ever-shifting ripe tides. Instinct had directed him to follow the nearest positive swell but now he felt it move again. Bending as though to make way. Just as suddenly as the air had turned cold, a well opened up, and negativity cascaded down the pit and condensed into a single point of black frost.

A shiver ran down his spine. “Nightmare…?”

Something about Rem’s magic didn’t feel right—

“How unlike you to make the first move. Was it not enough for you to…” his brother’s voice trailed off. “You are not my brother.”

No... no he was not. Rem’s magic felt cold, but not this cold. Though, the undercurrent of bitterness was painfully familiar.

“… the sentiment is mutual,” Molt murmured. He steadied himself on the boulder behind him. Silently, he tried to gauge the other’s intent.

An air of suspicion and curiosity rolled underneath the cold. He had the sense he was also being appraised.

“And yet, you are Dream.”

He did not sound—did not feel happy about that.

“If it were not impossible, I would wager you were from a divergent timeline.”

“Our world had only one timeline,” Molt confirmed cautiously. His voice remained low. “… it’s tied to the multiverse itself. No resets. Just the one.”

“Ah, so you are informed,” his brother's voice mocked. “Your presence here suggests a paradox, then. For all my searching, I have never met another iteration of us who could breach the confines of their AU on their own. It seemed there was some law restricting the role of Guardian to Two.”

He nodded because that more or less described the situation back home. With a renewed sense of scrutiny, Nightmare said, “Can I assume then, that instead of your brother, you were the one who bit the apple?”

And Molt stalled. The question was so direct. It felt a bit like a verbal slap to the face.

Nightmare hummed. “I see. That expression you’re making... It makes sense for my alternative self to have other motives if you are like this yourself.” He heard the grin in his tone, even if he could not see it. “Tell me, Dream. What do you say to adding to that collection of yours?” He— he couldn’t be serious.

“In this multiverse, you have the opportunity to increase your power. If you collect the last apple from my brother, perhaps we can reach an agreement.”

His mouth felt suddenly dry. He had to consciously still his tentacles to keep them from lashing defensively.

“You… you want me to kill my counterpart.”

He struggled to wrap his mind around that. Less so the threat itself and more so that it was Nightmare who was asking him to do it. He felt sick.

His brother’s alternate rumbled a low laugh. “It would not be difficult for you. You dwarf him in raw power. I’m confident you could easily subdue him... Ah, but I see I cannot convince you. The thought distresses you. A pity.”

Gravel and sand crunched underfoot. The sound came quietly. “ … hmm just as I thought, you are blind.”

“...what are you doing?”

Nightmare was amused by the question. Dread washed over him. Nightmare had been speaking to him civilly until that point, and while this mirror of his brother gave off an ambient feeling of danger, he had not taken the feeling as seriously as he should have.

“I am considering what to do with you. Since it seems you are reluctant to cooperate. But you would be of a dull mind not to suspect that already. If you are anything like the thorn I have in my side now, I��m sure you will quickly surmise why I simply cannot let your existence go unchecked.”

Molt slowly shuffled a step back.

“… where do you think you will escape to? Are you even aware of what is behind you?”

Molt froze.

He sensed no one behind him but— the subtle rustle of fabric. A step was taken closer and it dawned on him that Nightmare had been trying to distract him.

Molt’s hearing was keen. It had to be. He learned to rely on it when sensing nearby emotions, and the flow of positive and negative wasn’t enough. But his haptic memory was better, and with one tentacle brushing against the boulder behind him, he knew which side he stood on and which direction he originally came from.

He darted around the boulder, squarely placing it between himself and Nightmare. His brother’s alternate self stood still, contemplative and mildly surprised.

“Hm. You cannot see, and yet you are able to pinpoint my position. Interesting.”

Molt didn’t feel like providing a reply.

Nightmare didn’t move for a width of time that felt like years. And then, he vanished. The cold sucked out of the air in a blip of distorted space-time.

Alarm seized him. Given no time to think, he picked direction and distance at random and took a shortcut through. As he felt his bones materialize in reality again, a dense frame of cold magic solidified where he had stood seconds prior.

Displeasure radiated off of Nightmare in waves. “Come now. Don’t run. It’s unbecoming. We can discuss the terms of your departure from this world with maturity.”

Molt shivered. “Don’t. I would return to my reality if I knew how.”

“Then allow me to assist you,” Nightmare said, and the malice in his words sent needles crawling up his spine. He vanished again in a wash of cold. Molt leaped back, grasping at the nearest tide of positivity to carry him away.

He found his feet again on the sand. The sudden incline made him stumble. The seconds it took to catch his balance nearly cost him. A frustrated growl and the sensation of ice to his right was the only warning he had before a sharp object whistled past his skull. He teleported again and Nightmare followed.

“Enough! Cease this childishness.” The burning cold struck his side. Molt tumbled to the ground. He rolled, gasping in pain, and launched himself to the side. “Stop! I don’t want to fight you.” A loud crack sounded where he’d just been. Gravel pelted his arm.

“Then what happens next is your own fault,” His brother’s voice snarled.

He took another shortcut. Aiming north of the dense vortex of cold desperately trying to put some distance between himself and his brother’s counterpart. He needed that distance to escape this AU. If he attempted the jump too close to Nightmare he might unintentionally drag him along, or Nightmare would be able to sense where he went and this fight would never end. The temperature plummeted. In a split second, a cold tendril snapped around his middle. And then he was flung. His body hit the ground once, twice, and his skull was knocked against something hard.

A hiss shuddered through his ribcage. Molt clenched his teeth as the world spun, attempting to swallow back the sound.

“You brought this on yourself, Dream.”

Gravel and sand crunched at a steady pace. Malice approached slowly.

He struggled to push himself upright. The ground beneath him swayed dangerously. His tendrils lashed, writhing in defense of their host. But the ground beneath him lurched, his arms buckled, and the ground swung up to meet the side of his skull again.

His soul pulsed so fast and hard in his chest, he thought he was going to be sick.

“Poetic, isn’t it? I wonder... did the same desperation drive you?”

Cold wrapped around him and slammed his back into a hard, stone wall.

Claws dug into his jaw, roughly pinning his skull to the stone slab behind him. A strained hiss tore from his bared teeth. He found the strength to wrestle one arm free and dug his claws into the wrist pinning his head down. Nightmare’s strength didn’t waver, but an involuntary noise rattled through him, a jolt that was close enough to a flinch to be nothing else.

Faintly, Molt felt the phantom echo of a hot brand race up Nightmare’s arm, starting from where his claws dug into his wrist.

“W-why are you doing this? I am not from your timeline, so why?”

“The distinction is irrelevant,” the grip on his jaw tightened. “This fate, it’s the least you deserve. For everything you put me through. For every day I was left to defend myself while you selfishly basked in undeserved praise.”

Exhaustion crept into his limbs. He felt weaker and heavier by the second.

“Would you have always resented me?” Molt gasped out. “If things had been different... If our lives had been better—”

Nightmare barked out a bitter laugh. “Even as you are now, you are naive. No. I cannot imagine a world where I did not hate you. For us, no other outcome was possible.” Molt flinched. “... you doubt me? Do you actually believe my alternate self doesn’t resent you?”

The knife in his heart gave a sharp lurch. It would make sense... wouldn’t it. For all he hadn’t done, who wouldn’t resent him?

“N-Night...”

“You neglected your responsibilities, Dream. You were selfish. I’ve always wondered if you had known what I stood to lose that day. If you had known what they had planned to do—” “Nightmare!” Molt snapped. He was terrified, his soul shook, and he was painfully cold. “That was my home too!” Something snapped. He felt the abrupt, quaking shift in Nightmare’s demeanor. Rage colored all rational thought. Molt didn’t know what he intended to do and he didn’t have time to think about it. That rage solidified into a single, sharp tool. Malice soaked the thing so vividly, he could almost see it. A serrated bone dagger.

Molt jerked his head to the side, the claws on his jaw slipped, and something sharp and blisteringly cold scraped the side of his skull.

He might have blacked out for a few seconds. He couldn’t be sure. One moment, his vision was black. Then it was white. He’d yanked a tentacle free in the next. A resounding crack thundered through the stone lab behind him. Nightmare’s grip on his head slipped, caught off guard. Molt kicked his shin, and as Nightmare staggered, snarling, he flash-stepped out of immediate reach.

A safe distance away he sank to the ground.

Head swimming, he lifted a shaky hand to the side of his skull. He felt bone. The dry, clean surface of a malar bone. The muddy, blurred shape of his palm swam in and out of focus.

Nightmare stood very still for a long moment. His emotions felt stunted and Molt could not identify the feeling that had rendered him so still. Moments ago, Nightmare had been content to hurt him in every possible way.

“Get up,” Nightmare said. And he couldn’t identify the emotion behind that command either. It felt like anger but brittle. “I said get up!”

A tremble racked through his body. He felt a forbidden spark of anger ignite in his throat and shakily rose to his feet.

As he slowly lifted his gaze, palm still pressed to the side of his skull, he saw black tar and went still.

It was one thing to guess the shape of the magic that had tossed him around the field like a rag doll, but it was another thing entirely, to see it.

The ground felt like it was tilting. Nightmare was taking too long to respond. And though he hid it well, he was clearly in pain. Head swimming. Pounding. Red-hot needles. Nausea pricked through his brother’s bones.

Nightmare took one step closer. Molt flinched back, and a bitter smile crawled over his brother’s teeth—

“NOT SO FAST!”

A sharp ping. His vision was eclipsed in hazy blue. Before Molt could blink, he found himself yanked to the side, several feet away.

He was released, gently at that, and stumbled once as gravity resumed its normal weight. The world erupted in a cacophony of noise. With color and light sloshing together, it was difficult to make out shape and form, but the stirring magic immediately in front of him was familiar.

“Blue?” Molt whispered, but like Nightmare his magic felt just slightly off. The hope in his soul withered. He was surrounded by strangers.

“MWEH HEH HEH FEAR NOT STRANGE INTERDIMENSIONAL CITIZEN! WE ARE HERE TO SAVE THE DAY. NIGHTMARE! YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH THIS!”

Whatever his brother’s mirror said in reply it was drowned out by noise.

“Wait.”

But his voice was too low. Too quiet. And his plea went ignored.

Too much happened at once after that. The Swap Sans launched himself into the fight. Light. Movement. A flash of white. Bones summoned then shattered by the furious sweep of a black arm. Nightmare’s strength was weakening. The balance had tipped. And battling three by himself? Nightmare couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Most of the fight happened too fast for his barely stable eyelight to track.

So he did what he always did when the world around him became too chaotic to follow. He reached for the cold pitch of his brother’s magic.

He followed the current of cold as it funneled into a singular point. Pushed back, and back again by a burning white star. Hope. Concentration. Concern for the other, yet the courage to see his actions through to the end. The familiarity of the magic here was disconcerting. But his head already ached something awful and he didn't think his nausea could get much worse. The phantom lashes he’d endured at Nightmare’s hand still burned. But... Nightmare. He felt his twin’s exhaustion, felt the unsteady slip to his heel, and his alternate was closing in now and—

The shortcut was rough. Poorly executed. And finding his balance on the balls of his feet was not fun. He raised his arm defensively, anticipating the attack seconds before, and found his hand closing around the pole of a golden staff. It smacked into his palm with a solid clank. It hurt only a little bit. His own magic absorbed the brunt of the blow to feed itself. To lessen some of his own pain. And staring into the wide eyes of his own face was...

Dizzying.

Everything was dizzying.

That startled look melted into one of fear, and it didn’t make sense. His own rib cage hitched, sharing that fear second hand and then it dawned on him how this might look. Oh. He thought. …oh.

He released his counterpart's weapon and yanked his hand back. The other skeleton flash stepped out of reach, his soul pulsing with the rhythm of a terrified rabbit.

Within the pool of frigid cold at his back, he felt a spark of something that felt suspiciously like gratitude. Nightmare struggled to stand for a moment, winded, then laughed. The sound was not pleasant. “Recklessness must be a universal trait.”

“That’s enough,” Molt rasped. “Please. Just stop…”

“You should have taken my offer when you had the chance,” Nightmare sneered, words bitting. But more than anything, they felt defensive. The darkness pinched into a small, black star, and then he was gone.

“I SEE. WAS I MISTAKEN THEN? ARE YOU AND NIGHTMARE ALLIES?” Blue had taken a defensive stance beside his teammate. His weapon was drawn, but he didn’t move yet. His soul hummed with grim focus. The suspicion hurt.

Molt struggled to speak for several precious seconds. Unsettled. He was reeling from the fight, from everything he had learned about this reality and the cruelty of his brother's words and actions and he was trying ever so hard not to let a tremble snake its way into his voice. It was very hard... to hear someone say those awful things in Rem’s voice.

He shook his head and said softly. “We aren’t.”

Blue’s brow furrowed. “THEN, WHY DID YOU DEFEND HIM?

The words ‘because he is my brother?’ were on the edge of his teeth but the hostile edge to Blue’s magic and tone made him pause. It was less a question and more of an accusation. And that answer wouldn’t have been exactly true besides.

The tendril on his back coiled defensively.

He hadn’t stopped to think before he leapt in front of Nightmare. It hadn’t been a “should I or shouldn’t I” situation in his mind. In that moment he was unable to look past the pain and hurt his brother’s mirror was experiencing. In that moment, the distinction didn’t matter. He had to put a stop to it, that’s all. He couldn’t fight his brother. In any form he took. He just couldn’t do it. It reminded him of too much. And he couldn’t stand to watch that either.

But how could he possibly explain that?

A step behind his teammate, Dream was trying to calm down. Blue’s presence helped but he was struggling. Molt took a step back. He was causing someone pain and distress. He didn’t want that. Blue’s stance shifted. Bracing.

That felt like betrayal too. Molt swallowed something bitter behind his teeth and tried not to think of it that way. Ignored that small part of him that hissed and felt a little bit angry. It didn’t make sense. He knew the person in front of him wasn’t his friend.

“FRIEND, I WANT TO GIVE YOU THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT BUT... YOU ARE ACTING SUSPICIOUSLY.”

“I’ll leave,” Molt said. His head was pounding, and the last thing he wanted was to be dragged into another fight. “Wait...” Dream took a breath. “You’re hurt. Stay for a minute, let’s talk.” “DREAM IS RIGHT, POTENTIAL ENEMY OR NOT, IT WOULDN’T BE RIGHT TO LEAVE YOU THIS WAY. NOT TO FEAR HOWEVER, I AM ALWAYS PREPARED!” “It’s okay. I don’t need candy,” Molt said and felt vaguely like he was reading the lines of a script. If Rem or any of the others were here, they’d be calling his bluff. “Then, what do you need?”

“Somewhere calm, with hope. That’s all.”

The two exchanged a look. Surprise, suspicion, resignation, dread. “I SEE. SO YOU ARE LIKE DREAM THEN. BUT SURELY THAT'S NOT ENOUGH. I... I CANNOT SEEM TO CHECK YOU FOR SOME REASON, BUT YOU DO NOT LOOK WELL.”

Blue seemed to ask to Dream something silently. Concern. Suspicion. Acceptance. Dream sighed. “I know somewhere. It’ll be okay. We’ll be keeping an eye on him together, right? The place I’m thinking of is isolated so...”

“IT’S SETTLED THEN.” he finally dismissed his weapon, and Molt felt the tendrils on his back slowly lower. “SO THEN, NEW FRIEND, WHAT DO YOU SAY TO A TRUCE? WILL YOU COME WITH US?”

He gauged their intent for a moment. Rem had sometimes remarked that his empathy made him gullible. But Molt was tired, and sore, and aching. The others weren’t here. And he let them make decisions for him too much anyway. He hated to admit it but Nightmare was right. Dream wasn’t a physical threat to him. He was scared and trying so hard to be brave, and Molt was trying equally hard not to feel rattled.

“Okay,” he said.

Blue made a noise, something between acknowledgment and mild confusion. Dream offered a strained smile. He supposed they had a lot of questions.

#orbital chatter #moltendreams!au #molten!dream #nightmare!sans #nightmare sans #OG Nightmare meeting Molten!Dream situation but its longer #it doesnt go well #ink arriving late w/ starbucks: so what did i miss?#everyone is gone #ink: wow so alot #one shot

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