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miradelletarot · 1 month

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I Wanted to Be Angry | AU - Sagora & God!Gale One Shot

I was super in my feels a while ago, and started writing this. Finally finished it, and decided to share it here. It's also on AO3 if you'd rather read it there. While these are the same characters as my The Weave and the Vines Series on AO3, this is an Alternate Universe ending for them. It's sad. Get tissues...or hug a pillow. Tags: OC death, major depression, very angry Astarion, minor mention of blood, and Astarion is rather foul with Gale at one point. Like I said. Big Angy. Snippet: “I need to be more than ‘fine,’ Sagora. I could be great. A perfect being to guide others in their ambitious pursuits. There’s far more out there for me. I know it. I’m sure Mother and Tara will understand.” Word Count: 3,089 Fic below the cut

He just…left.

Walked away. - - -

“Sagora, My Love…I’m sorry. But, if I don’t do this – I’ll never know what could have been.”“But, Gale –”“– If I am fortunate enough to succeed, I’ll come back for you. I promise.” His demeanor was cavalier, smug even. As if his action was as simple as taking a stroll to the market, and choosing a loaf of bread. These trifles of mortal life seemed all too beneath him now.“Come back?? Gale, what about Waterdeep? Your mother? Tara?? What about me? I don’t want what you want. I told you that. You’re fine as you are.”“I need to be more than ‘fine,’ Sagora. I could be great. A perfect being to guide others in their ambitious pursuits. There’s far more out there for me. I know it. I’m sure Mother and Tara will understand.”“They won’t. I don’t. After all that we’ve been through? The plans we made…you’d throw it away just like that?”

“No, Darling, of course not!” He braced his hands on her shoulders. “I’m just paving the way for even better plans, that's all.”She stood there. Blank. Her mind was a blur of all the words he said in an incoherent fog. Gale gave her a small pat on her arm, pulling her out of her daze. All she saw next was him walking away. No kiss goodbye, nor a hug…not even a wave. He simply took a step and vanished, everyone staring into his direction in disbelief.

- - -

Sagora punished herself by traveling to Waterdeep without him. His mother and Tara deserved to know, though with what little she knew of Tara, she imagined that the winged feline was already well aware of Gale’s decision. Still, she felt responsible to his family somehow.

By the time she arrived there, it was clear Tara already shared the news. Sagora would have been surprised if she hadn’t. Morena wore black, her face veiled as if Gale had been deceased. Though, the way he left felt so abrupt he might as well have been. They all grieved the loss of the man they knew – the son, the friend, and the lover.

Morena handed Sagora a tarnished key with silky purple ribbons attached to the end. “Here, my dear. Stay as long as you like.” She asked Tara to guide her to Gale’s abandoned tower as they embraced and parted ways.

***

It was a picturesque front step with iron railings, ornate wooden doors, and wispy, overgrown vines clinging to the stonework. She slotted the key into place, and with a click she opened the heavy door. Immediately, the smell of parchment, dust, and sandalwood wafted in her face. Tara quietly walked beside her as she slowly perused each room, only speaking up to give information or guidance on her stay. The last room at the top of the stairs was the only room she knew – the room Gale showed her on their first romantic night together.

“Thank you for your help ,Tara…but – I think I need to be alone now.”

“Of course. Use this should you need anything.” She pawed at a sending stone that sat on a nearby table before flitting her wings, and leaving the tower through the terrace. Sagora sank to her knees, and wept. Everything smelled like him. He was everywhere within these walls. Every book, decoration, and piece of furniture had been touched by his gentle hands. It was as if she was touching a fragment of his soul left behind. By the time she reached his bedroom, seeing the very real bed of the illusion he once conjured for her, she collapsed into the mattress, moaning and whimpering with no more tears left to cry. It didn’t seem possible after all this time, but somehow, his scent still lingered on his sheets. There was even a stray hair on his pillow. She pulled the pillow against her, cradling it the same way she would hold him with her head on his chest. She clutched it tighter, breathing him in, and finally drifted into a deep, grief-stricken slumber.

***

Astarion arrived in Waterdeep about two months after Sagora’s arrival. Gale had mused about his tower enough on their travels that he was able to find it without too much trouble. A dull, brassy name plate embossed with ‘Mr. Gale Dekarios’ was the confirmation he needed of his successful arrival. The delicate vines were now thick, and burrowed into the cracks of the masonry, damaging the once pristine tower. Astarion found it odd that some of the vines had thin tendrils sneaking their way past the gaps in the door.

He knocked. No Answer. Again. Still nothing.

The lock on the door resisted his attempts at first, but his usual finesse with locks made it easy enough for him to covertly wiggle the mechanism free, and invite himself in. He stepped inside, shrugging off his winter coat, and scanned the room before him. The scene was nothing like Gale had described on their adventures. The floors, walls, and everything between had been shrouded in leafy vines. Some thick, and hardened, clinging to the floor. Others were newer, but devoid of any vibrancy. Not a single flower in sight. Thorns pricked into the delicate pages and covers of his books, papers strewn about, and decorations displaced. Not surprisingly, a statue of Mystra lay crumbled and broken beside Gale’s desk. What was once Gale’s sanctuary, had now become an overgrown forest – sad, and abandoned.

“What in the bloody hells…Sagora??” She mindlessly walked through the room. She was pale, gaunt, her shimmering auburn hair now a dull and matted tangle. No longer was her hair beautifully braided. It hung lifelessly, overgrown and unkempt, like the vines that choked out the walls and books they hung on. Out of her flesh, grew more vines that dragged along the floor with every step she took. Fresh and dried blood congealed around the roots that protruded from her body. In all his years, he had only read of this phenomenon. The Decay. It was merely the stuff of legend, but here he was, standing before a druid who had renounced her magic and her god, allowing shadow and grief to consume her before she painfully succumbs, and returns to the earth. She didn’t even regard Astarion when he rushed to her side, abandoning his coat to the floor. There was horror in his gaze, his words caught in his throat, rendering him speechless. “I’ve got letters.” she croaked, still never looking away from the path she made in the floor from her pacing. She strayed mindlessly to the desk, retrieving a small bundle of sealed letters addressed to each of their friends.

Astarion grasped her shoulders, and angled his body to look in her eyes. They were milky, and glazed over, drained of almost all of their color. “Sagora, where’s the cat? And Gale’s mother? Why haven’t they come for you!?” She stared blankly beyond his form. “Dead. Tara first. Morena next. Too sad.”

“Why in the fucking hells didn’t you come back then?! You idiot!”

“…Sorry.” He sighed. “We need to get you out of here.” He tried to tug at her arms, but her feet planted firmly to the ground beneath her. “Sagora, come on. We need to get you help.”

“No.” She slowly walked past him, almost disregarding his presence, and stepped out onto the terrace. Astarion followed close behind, afraid she might jump. Instead, she sat in Gale’s favorite spot as twilight set into the sky above.

“Everyone’s got a letter.” Her words were painfully slow, and forced. “You got two.” Astarion looked down at the bundle, and found two envelopes addressed to him. One, was a beautifully written ‘goodbye’ outlining their time together, and how she cherished their friendship. The other was a set of instructions for her inevitable end. He was not often one to get emotional, but knowing the cause of her consuming grief was enough to bring forth hot, angry tears that brimmed his crimson eyes.

“Can you see the stars?” Her willingness to speak surprised him a little, but it was better than her staring blankly into the void in silence. “Yes.” He spoke softly, more gently than before. He sat beside her, a book the only thing creating distance between them except for the tangled foliage that hung from her body. ‘The Art of the Night,’ etched in gold leaf along the spine, was one of the few books in the tower that hadn’t been consumed by the decay she created.

“I’m glad.” They sat in silence for a while, Sagora still staring blankly at nothing. While winter raged outside, the terrace remained warm – a lingering enchantment Gale had left behind.

“Astarion…”

“What is it, Darling?” “Thank you."

He took one of her hands into his, she was icy to the touch, colder than even himself. Hastily, he searched the tower for the warmest blanket he could find, and draped across her shoulders, though something deep in the pit of his stomach told him it would be for naught. He pulled her in close, arms protectively encircling her wilting frame. His breath hitched as he noted the sound of her weakening heartbeat as it progressively slowed to a dangerous rhythm.

“I’m glad…you came.”

“Of course.” He whispered, wanting to hear her fragile, shallow breaths, his only assurance that there was still some sign of life deep in her bones.

“A–sta–rion?” “Yes?” “Can…y-you…still s-see…t-the stars?” “Yes. I can.” He nodded, his lip quivering trying to bite back his tears.

Sagora’s lips curled into a faint smile. “G-g-ood. I’m so gl-aad. Th-thank you.” She rested her head on his shoulder, and released a gentle sigh as the life that remained slipped away. Astarion shifted, cradling her head so he could gaze at her, but there was little to see. Her soul was gone, and all that remained was an empty shell of the woman she once was. She was gone.

***

The party was meant to be a celebration, a way for the heroes to gather, and share stories of their lives after the absolute. While they did their best to celebrate Sagora’s life with drink in hand, and a song in their hearts – something they knew she would have wanted – a thick cloud of grief and anger hung in the air. As everyone threw back one drink after the other, sharing tales of her heroism, and friendship, a radiant light materialized from the heavens. A familiar figure descended before them, shimmering, his silvery exterior almost reflecting the moonlight.

“Ahh, what a quaint gathering! Though, I’d forgotten just how many different smells there are in the material plane.” The ethereal figure gazed around at the decor and celebration.

“Gale…” “Astarion! How good of you to recognize me! Though, I’m a bit surprised you could handle my intimidating presence so easily.”

“It’s not that fucking intimidating…” Karlach’s gaze was hot, and her infernal engine flared. “Oh, well, perhaps not for one as foreboding as you, Karlach. Lovely to see you’re back from the hells.”

“Wish I could say the same.” She scowled, as did the others, all gazing at Gale angrily.

“Hmm. I’m sensing some hostility. Surely, my presence isn’t that commanding. We’re here to celebrate, are we not?” His smug grin was the last straw for Astarion. Every word Gale said was pompous, and brimmed with arrogance.

“Gale, do us alllll a favor, and fuck off will you?”

His brows furrowed. “I hardly think I am deserving of such hostility, but no matter. I can see how my new appearance could make you all ill at ease. I’ll leave as soon as I find Sagora. Is she here yet?” Astarion clenched his fists hard, his eyes widening, and breathing ragged. “Ohh…Oh, she’s here, alright.” He reached for a large, potted tree sapling that sat on the table, and one of the envelopes Sagora had left with him. With a hard shove, he thrust the sapling into Gale’s shimmering chest.

He held the plant, examining it for a moment, puzzled. “Very funny, Astarion. Where is she?” “She’s there…in your hands. I hope you can find a sunny fucking spot to stick her in.” Gale sighed, his tone increasingly more irritated. “You’re a lot more childish than I remember. If she doesn’t want to see me, then just say so, so I can leave.” “SHE CAN’T SEE YOU, YOU FUCKING TWAT! SHE’S DEAD!” Gale’s face went blank. If the color could have drained from him it would have. The words rang in his ears, and he hoped he heard them wrong. “She’s…what?” “Dead. She’s dead. Died in YOUR tower, by the way! By the time I made it to Waterdeep, I found her just in time to hold her in my fucking arms as she drew her last gods damn breath. Left alone to her grief after your mother and cat died.” Gale breathed in sharply. Before he could utter a sound, Astarion continued his rage-filled tirade. “Every book, every surface, all of it consumed by her vines! Her grief LITERALLY grew around her! They grew out of her body, draining the fucking life from her! YOU KILLED HER!” He stepped closer to Gale, nearly pressing against him, and an angrily pointed finger in the face of the God of Ambition.

“I hope you’re happy with your choice. Now you get to live with it. For eternity.” Astarion gritted his teeth, his breaths shaky and wild. As he started to walk away, he spun on his heels to face Gale once more. “Don’t you dare spill a drop of that soil. Her ashes are in there. You did this to her, now you can be responsible for her. For some fucking reason, she still wanted to be with you. Now she can. Don’t forget to water her, either.”

Gale stood, frozen, staring at the small sapling in his ethereal hands. He was too busy becoming a powerful god to concern himself with the trifles of mortals that he even disregarded the ones who loved him the most.

He grazed his fingers along the top of the soil. Its earthy smell was strong, stronger than he expected it to be. He set the sapling down on the nearby table, and opened the letter. He rubbed the parchment between his fingers to remind himself what it felt like. The texture was familiar, but fleeting, unable to truly recall the sensation he used to know so well. His mind buzzed as he tried to find focus on the words in front of him while he felt the hot stares of those who he once regarded as friends.

Gale,

If you’re reading this, it means I am no longer among the forest and the wolves. The day you left was the day I pronounced you dead. It was the only way I thought I could cope with how you walked away from me. How cold you were. How very misguided.

I traveled to Waterdeep, hoping to at the very least apologize to your mother for failing her…for failing you. She was dressed in black when I arrived, already informed of your folly by your dear friend, Tara who thankfully took pity on me instead of clawing my eyes out.

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to hate you. But, I just couldn’t let you go. My heart wouldn’t let me. Your mother handed me the key to your tower, and allowed me to stay there as long as I wished. I only meant to stay for a day or two, but something held me within these walls.

I wanted to forget you…to move on. I wanted to return to my grove. But, I just kept crying. It didn’t help that Tara had disappeared. Days went by before we found her curled up in a hiding spot she must have made for herself under the porch. She went there to die. No goodbye. Losing her and you so closely was all too much for your mother though. At least I got to say goodbye to her, and beg for her forgiveness. It’s my fault you left. I didn’t say the right things to make you stay. Maybe I didn’t love you enough. I wasn’t convincing enough. Perhaps I could have tried harder. I filled my days with endless wondering if there was more I could have done to keep you.

I miss you. Your smell, your laugh, that adorable smirk you always gave me. I miss the way you touched me. I miss your hands, and the way they explored my body when we made love. You were always enough for me. I only wish I had been enough for you.

You were right about one thing though. The gods don’t care about us mortals. Mystra showed you that, and then you showed that to me. I gave up Silvanus. I refused to give him more of my power. Power he doesn’t need. He’ll just take it from another unfortunate soul. He doesn’t care about me. I don’t know if he ever did.

It’s getting harder to see now. Perhaps he’s punishing me for abandoning him, or maybe it’s The Withering. It doesn’t matter now. It’ll be over soon.

I hope you got what you wished for…that Godhood was all you wanted it to be.

I hope you know that I’ll miss you. That you still hold my heart. Even as I succumb, and condemn myself to the Wall of the Faithless.

I love you. Always.

- Sagora

Gale’s hands trembled as he held the parchment in his ethereal hands. His composure was slipping, the veil of his foreboding stature was falling away, and there was little to stop it. He briskly gathered the sapling with a hushed apology to his former companions, and blinked away, returning to his realm, which feels heavier…emptier than it did before Withers sent for him.

The odds of reclaiming her from The Wall were insurmountable. For as formidable as Gale was, he was no match for Kelemvor, and would surely cease to be if he were to dare enter The Death God’s realm, and disturb the balance.

So this is it. ‘Gale’s Folly.’ The God of Ambition, doomed to grieve for an eternity, and suffer the consequences of his actions.

He gazed sorrowfully at the sapling before him, carefully rolling one of the leaves between his fingers.

“Forgive me…my love.”

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vladdyissues · 5 months

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Hi, it’s me, the asker who was so curious about Danny at school ✨

I got three things to say, silly thing first, 1. I’m so curious about what Danny’s diet is gonna be. I was rereading that chapter, and if Vlad has to eat meat to stoke the flames, does that mean Danny has to go vegetarian? That would be so fucking funny, I’m ngl 😂 but also sad, bc then he’d be thinking about Sam all the time 🥺 anyways, I’m just interested to see what you do with it 👀

2. You got me thinking about enemies to lovers, hardcore. And I realized, when I enjoy that kind of ship, I’m not here to see them become all lovey-dovey and domestic. I’m here to see the pain, and the toxicity, and the deep codependency of it all. The ‘I hate you, but I can’t leave you’, and the ‘you might kill me one day, and I embrace that.’ If you’ve watched Hannibal, you know exactly what I mean 😂 For Vlad and Danny, I don’t really give a fuck if it’s pompep or badgercereal, i just want angst and codependency 😈 I think that’s part of what I like about your story so much, is that it’s toeing the line between the two relationships. Halfway parental, and halfway toxic/romantic love.

3. You’ve fucking ruined me for other fanfiction rn 😭😂 I can’t read anything else for more than five minutes 🥲 Partially bc I’m so invested in the story, but also bc your writing style IS SO FUCKING GOOD. YOU SHOULD BE WRITING ACTUAL BOOKS, LIKE WTF. Anywayyysss, I’ll just curl up into a little ball of boredom on the floor till you update again 😂💕

Sending much looooove, 😘 I hope the brain to fanfic pipeline is working out for you 🤌

Hello and holy shit! What an ego-bloating kind and generous ask this is! Let me jump right in:

1. I don't want to spoil the plot too much, but Danny's diet is going to be key in unraveling a very important part of Vlad's enigma, and I cannot wait to get to that point. I've been sprinkling crumbs of information throughout the story thus far, laying down a foundation upon which to build this Big Thing, and the next chapter (14) will—or should, anyway—finally begin to deliver on it.

2. My friend, you've just given me an epiphany: it's not so much Enemies to Lovers that we adore, I suspect, as it is Enemies and Lovers. That's exactly the tag I'd use to describe Hannigram, and it's such a different and exciting dynamic. I've never quite—well, scratch that—okay, I've never written Enemies and Lovers in such depth as I am with Familiar. There's something darkly satisfying about letting lovers remain ugly; the notion that deep, abiding affection can exist in tandem with fear and disgust; that even monsters—in the very act of being monstrous, or perhaps because they are monstrous and not in spite of their monstrosity—are capable of loving and being loved.

3. Frhgahrglahrglahg I'm going to print and frame this one and hang it on my wall for days when I feel utterly inept. I've been writing fanfiction for a while now, and I've written volumes of silly, embarrassing, poorly-executed tripe, so if I haven't at least gotten a little bit good at what I'm doing, I doubt I ever will 😆 That said, I'm putting a lot of effort into Familiar, I mean pulling out every stop and employing every nut and bolt in my mental toolbox to craft a good story (and reading. Always reading), partly as a challenge to myself and partly out of sheer love for this great ship and its fandom. Everyone here is so nice and welcoming and awesome. I only hope my tiny contribution continues to entertain.

Speaking of which, the wait for this next chapter shouldn't be long. The feedback I've been receiving is phenomenal, and it's definitely helped to fuel me along when my mania wavers. I'm incredibly grateful to you and everyone reading enjoying this story. Thank you thank you ♥

#asks #writing #enemies to lovers #enemies AND lovers #super nice people #meta #fic: familiar #pompous pep #hannibal

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dialovers-translations · 1 year

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Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ruki Ecstasy [03]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the forest

Yui: Ruki-kun? Are you there?

( I couldn’t find him anywhere in his room either, so I thought that just maybe...he’d be outside instead. )

( At some point I ended up going from the garden into the forest...What now? )

ー The wind blows in the background

*HOOOOWL*

Yui: !?

( What a strong gust of wind...Also that cry just now...I could hear it nearby. )

( I know that I have to get out of here pronto but...I’m so scared, my legs won’t move...! )

???: Yui? ...Yui!

Yui: Eh....?

ー Somebody runs up to her

Yui: Ruki-kun...!

ー He holds her close

Yui: Wah!?

( He’s embracing me...! )

Ruki: What are you doing in the forest? Did somebody bring you here...?

Yui: No. I somehow ended up over here while looking around for you...

...Hey, Ruki-kun. Where have you been up till now?

Ruki: No, actually...I looked all over the castle in search of you as well.

Yui: Eh?

( I see... )

Yui: Thank god. I guess we were both looking for the other but kept on missing each other, huh?

Ruki: ...Why are you laughing like nothing’s wrong? I don’t find it very funny how you ended up all by yourself out here in the forest as a result.

You could have very well been attacked by another Demon, you see?

Yui: ...! R-Right. I’m sorry.

( I was so focused on looking for Ruki-kun, it didn’t even cross my mind... )

Ruki: Don’t you ever dare head out without my permission again, understood?

Selection

→ Nod (M)

Yui: Yeah. I know. I truly am sorry for making you worry.

Ruki: ...I’m just glad you understand.

Yui: ( His clothes are a little disheveled. He must have been truly worried about me. )

I’ll try my best not to cause you trouble so...Forgive me?

Ruki: I never asked you to beg for forgiveness.

Yui: I know, but...

( It only makes sense to apologize for making him worry, right? )

Ruki: ...I can read you like a book. Honestly, that straightforward nature of yours can be incredibly infuriating.

Yui: Eh...?

Ruki: I lack that ability...

→ I can handle myself (S)

Yui: I-I’ll be fine.

I know I made you worried but if it’s just a short stroll outside...

Ruki: Hooh? To think you’d completely disregard my warning...You sure have some nerve.

For starters, I don’t like how you grow worried just because you lost sight of me for a while.

Yui: Eh...?

Ruki: You never considered...that maybe I am perfectly fine by myself?

Yui: B-But...I can’t help but get worried...

Yui: ( I can sense that he’s gradually growing more and more irritated. )

( I...What should I do? I can’t think of anything but to apologize. )

Um...I truly am sorry about what happened today.

So let’s just head back? I’m sure the others are worried about us as weーー

ー Ruki grabs hold of her arm

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...!

Ruki: You don’t understand at all...

Yui: ...!

Ruki: I’m not upset because I feel bothered by your actions.

I just, I was...about you ーー

Yui: ...

ー He steps back

Ruki: ーー ...Ugh...Che...

I am sure you fail to understand...why this is such a serious matter to me...

Yui: ...Ruki-kun...?

Ruki: ...Let’s head back to the Castle.

I’ll escort you to your room. However, after that...Please give me some alone time.

ー He walks ahead

Yui: Eh!? W-Waitーー!

ー She quickly catches up to him

Ruki: ...

Yui: ( It’s my fault that he looks this sad now, isn’t it...? )

( But what should I do? What can I say...? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lerukiecstasy3

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waldensblog · 1 year

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Alright, I’m doing it. I am reading Shadow and Bone.

For context, I watched the show, but have never read the series before. Now, without further ado...

Alina: I found Alina a bit irritating at the beginning, because she just seemed to be absolutely obsessed with Mal. Ana in the first few pages says the two are “too attached” to each other, and I felt that way watching the show, with these feelings amplified here. He seemed to have a life, identity, friends, outside of her, but she just kind of waited for him to come back. I loved seeing her grow at the Little Palace when she finally let go of Mal, and embraced who she is as a Grisha, started to have genuine friendships with Genya, Marie, Nadia, and hang around other Grisha. I loved her friendship with Genya so much. It was excellent growth in her, and I loved seeing it. I was a bit frustrated at the end, the way she kind of abandons everyone and runs off with Mal - on the one hand I get it - she doesn’t have the power to stop anything, and she’s saving Mal, but on the other hand, she abandoned a bunch of people to the Volcra, it’s not that heroic, but in a way, that makes it more interesting. I definitely think Alina’s major character flaw is her obsession with Mal, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she kind of regresses in the second book while with him. I generally like Alina, but at times she frustrates me.

Mal / Malina: Mal’s character is... not my favourite, but I don’t hate him at this point. At the start he’s a friend who has a life outside his friendship with Alina - he has other friends, an identity of his own, hobbies, etc. He gets pissed at Alina at the Little Palace for getting a boyfriend, basically, and makes his jealousy her problem. It’s fine that he didn’t initially have feelings for her - which probably has a lot to do with the fact that she was a sickly girl with no sense of self - but he made it her problem and was rude. He does at least apologize later and own up to it, but it’s obvious that her past with the Darkling is not a subject to discuss, which is really a shame, because... she should be able to discuss her feelings with her friend, but apparently, cannot.

I know she’s supposed to have a crush on Mal, but I just don’t ship it. Normally a friends-to-lovers trope is one I can vibe with, in this case, I don’t. They grew up in an orphanage together, in the same household, so it really gives me brother/sister vibes. In fact, the first time I watched the show, I assumed that was how I was supposed to view them. I also can’t help but feel like... her crush on Mal is almost more told than shown. When Mal is introduced, I am told he has blue eyes. This was the extent of the description I had for a while, but as soon as the Darkling showed up... that was another description altogether. I don’t hate Mal at this point, and I don’t ship Malina.

The Darkling / Darklina:

The Darkling has survived centuries and seen Grisha persecution, endless wars fought on behalf of the monarchy, and he wants to liberate Ravka. His methods? I don’t agree with, but his mission isn’t a bad one, so I understand why some Grisha and soldiers were cheering at the end for him. As I was reading, I was thinking “damn I wish these soldiers would get class consciousness and stop hating Grisha, realizing the King is really the enemy, as he makes them all fight for him!”. The Darkling tries to do just that here. He’s a villain from Alina’s POV (”Fine, make me your villain”), which I think is mostly an effect of 1st person POV - imagine reading these events from his POV. He isn’t a hero, he isn’t a good guy - I’d say antagonist yes, and morally grey.

As soon as Alina meets the Darkling, we get quite the description. His silky black hair, grey quartz eyes, sharp jaw. His strong arm catches her after the initial touch which she feels an immediate connection with (I know, I know, it’s because he’s a living amplifier - but still, all the “literally turns you on” jokes are too easy here!) Later we hear he has a soft voice, a laugh she loves, and she’s eager to impress him. She’s very actively thirsting for him in a way she didn’t really seem to do for Mal. When they kiss for the first time after months of dancing around it all, she noted that she’s been kissed before, but this was something else. There’s a major spark here. I think the feelings are mutual too. When Ivan turns a corner, he has a knowing smile. As a heartrender, Ivan would know if the Darkling seriously had 0 feelings, and in that moment with Ivan, it reads to me like Ivan knew. Later, of course, he gifts her the black Kefta, with his symbol necklace, which is like the Grishaverse equivalent of wearing your boyfriend’s sweater. He wants everyone to know they’re a thing. I think he was really sincerely hurt (and probably surprised by the hurt) when she ran off. She was growing, becoming comfortable as a Grisha, everything going well, and then she just left, no explanation, because his mother said some stuff. Yeah I’d be in pain too. I don’t condone his behaviour when he finds her again, not at all. I think his feelings are still there, as evidenced by the tent kiss, and they are mutual. Despite everything, there is still feelings, still a connection. Things aren’t over. I find myself still ultimately shipping it - even if there’s obviously problematic elements, because of what they initially had, what things can be - basically I just want Aleks to get some therapy, but I know that ain’t gonna happen lol.

Also, when the Darkling said “Can I come to you tonight”, Alina hesitated but my thirsty ass would have been like “Fuck yeah” in a heartbeat. Ben’s performance gave me a crush on his character (and actor) and is isn’t dissuaded here (though I dig show Darkling more as he’s more obviously grounded in humanity - again, probably a consequence of the show being 3rd person POV vs the book being 1st person POV). I am definitely pro Darkling and Darklina.

Baghra:

Baghra is also morally grey to me. I neither hate nor love her. On the bad, she is an abusive instructor, hitting her students when they fail to perform, and she definitely chooses what information to give in a manipulative way. She does, however, ultimately help Alina, or in her mind she does, and Alina’s perspective too. She warns Alina about the Darkling, and helps her escape, saying she loves her son and doesn’t think he’s past redemption yet. On the other hand, by imparting this information here, now, Alina doesn’t get the chance to confront the Darkling and ask his side (which I find weird - she didn’t like Baghra, but immediately trusts her over her new boyfriend who has been by this point in the story only been shown to help her). It’s also rather frustrating when she calls Alina a “foolish girl” for being involved with the Darkling... like what the hell, it’s not like YOU SAID ANYTHING, FOR WEEKS/MONTHS!!!!! So yes, my feelings are neither pro or anti, just... she’s grey to me. I’ll need to see how she develops in future books to know where I stand.

Next Up: I will wait for season 2 to read the next one, so that I am thoroughly surprised by the show!

#shadow and bone #captain's log #alina starkov #pro alina #anti mal oretsev #sort of #anti malina #technically #darklina #for sure #anti baghra #not really but for tagging purposes i suppose i am critical in some ways of her

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semper-legens · 6 months

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155. Burned, by PC and Kristin Cast

Owned: No, library Page count: 323 My summary: Zoey's soul is shattered. After witnessing the death of Heath, her mortal lover, her soul exited her body to go to the Underworld, following Heath into the darkness. But Zoey is needed in the mortal world, as the struggle between Light and Darkness threatens to consume the world. Can her friends get the help they need to win back their High Priestess? My rating: 1/5 My commentary:

Yep, we're back here again. I'll spare you the usual these-books-are-terrible-and-I'm-a-masochist disclaimers, you've read them all already. Let's just dive straight into it. As I continue this series, I am constantly amazed by how it finds new and exciting ways to disappoint me. The writing is insipid and borders on the fetishistic, and its treatment of minorities and the culture of real minority groups to which the authors do not belong is misguided at best, and insulting at worst. None of the characters are particularly likeable, though they're clearly meant to be, and they all have an annoying habit of being able to win in every situation without ever putting much work in. The notion that this is about vampires has been near-completely abandoned for a neo-Pagan mythos, which would be fine if the authors just admitted that was what they wanted to write. And yet, this installment still manages to sink to lower lows than that. It's honestly impressive.

Zoey is dead throughout most of this novel - specifically, her soul has been shattered by Heath's death, and she is in the afterlife with him while everyone else fights to get her back. As is the eternal problem with this series, this might be a tad more compelling if the other characters were willing to get off their collective asses and do something about it rather than standing around waffling and doing nothing for half the book. Zoey is even less compelling than usual, being stripped back to a waifish ghost, who just spends her entire time being sad and delusional and confused rather than actually helping herself. Which she should, logically, have the power to do, being Nyx's Specialest Child, but no. Stark's gotta save her. And speaking of…all of a sudden, there's this island of warriors out by Scotland who are the only ones who can help Stark dive into the afterlife, and wouldn't you know it, he's got blood ties to them that help him get in where otherwise they would have killed him on sight! I'm sure glad this came up beforehand and wasn't just pulled out of the author's ass to make all of her characters seem especially Chosen and Special and Magic or anything! Swear to god she was just making this worldbuilding up as she went.

Our main subplot is Stevie Rae and the Raven Mocker, Rephaim. And once again, we have a relationship where a young woman is bound to an older, stronger, dangerous, and downright evil man, but thinks that she will be able to make him better through the healing power of love or whatever. Rephaim isn't quite as bad as Kalona - instead of being a rapist, he's just a murderer who killed one of the much-beloved teachers at the House of Night - but he's still somewhere south of moral, but nope! Stevie Rae wants to bone him, so he's redeemable. This is in stark contrast to the leader of the other red fledglings, the ones who decided to embrace the Darkness rather than choosing the Light as Stevie Rae and the others did. (Yep, this has seriously become a Darkness/Light battle.) She isn't redeemable, isn't fixable; her aligning herself to the Darkness is final, and though Stevie Rae does try and talk her out of it, she's not as fixated on helping them as she is on Rephaim. Because they're not sexy shirtless bird-men, presumably. My issue is more that the narrative treats them that way, though - you're meant to find Rephaim alluring and appealing in a bad-boy way, whereas Stevie Rae's attempts to get through to the leader of the red fledglings is presented more as a noble but inherently doomed effort, something that was never gonna pay off because they're just inherently evil. Everyone who likes our protagonists is Good, everyone who hates them is Bad, unless they're a shirtless hot guy in which case they're Bad But Redeemable. It's just so predictable and clichéd.

And finally, the part of this that is more actually insulting than just bad writing. We've seen all the way through this book that, while Cast seems to have done the tiniest research into Cherokee beliefs, she either misinterprets or wholesale invents the details, leading to Kalona and the Raven Mockers having more to do with Christian mythos than Cherokee. Well, in this book, all pretense at being rooted in anything other than Western neo-Pagan sensibilities is dropped. Right out of the gate, Cast writes in her foreword that she just wants to thank a few people for fact-checking and researching the Celtic mythology she draws from in this book - but we've had no such thanks for the Cherokee stuff, implying that Cast did far more research (and presumably had more respect for) the Celtic myth than the Cherokee. Not that her use of Celtic ideas and iconography is any better. I'm no expert in Celtic mythology, but the accent her Scottish character uses makes me want to apologise to the entire nation of Scotland on this book's behalf, and overall it's Celtic mythology via neo-Pagan sensibilities.

Now, I've got nothing wrong with neo-Pagans in the real world, don't get me wrong, but this series is steeped in its worst sensibilities, just as Mormonism pervades the Twilight books. In particular, the idea of the feminine and masculine are typical of that kind of 1960s and 70s neo-Paganism that meant to reclaim the Divine Feminine by essentially reversing gender expectations, with men as largely-expendable protectors and women being more magical and intuitive. The problem with that, of course, is that it's still strictly upholding the rigid gender categories that the rest of us have (Men are Strong! Women are Nurturing!), and oft ties them to biology (like the symbolism of the sword and the chalice) in a way that makes my transgender self uncomfortable. Because the flip side of that coin is still there. Women are weak and need to be protected - Zoey and Stevie Rae and Aphrodite can't save themselves, they need men to do their fighting for them. Women are emotional, while men are stoic - Stark is meant to just take being sliced up to help Zoey and Heath doesn't really seem to care about the fact that he's dead because he's more concerned with Zoey. It's just repackaging gender stereotypes with a 'magyk' flair, and it's no more compelling for it.

Next, I'm apparently not done with Junji Ito, as we delve into another of his collections.

#Burned #PC Cast #Kristin Cast #bookblr #book blog #book blogger #1

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bindi-the-skunk · 1 year

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There are other ways to make LxG film fics "closer to the comics" other than making Hyde a rapist, which, in the end, was done for no reason but to make Hyde seem more evil, heck, freaking Griffin in the comic was a pedophile raping schoolgirls and shit.

It serves no purpose, especially if you want us to at least partialy stomach them as part of the hero group and comic!Jekyll seemed like the type who couldn't even take a piss without asking permission first, much less have RAPE fantasies he wishes to live out through Hyde.

Hyde IS Jekyll, don't give us this weak and pathetic worm of a man and expect us to believe a rapist cannibal erupted from him! (And no just because Movie!Jekyll has more agency does not mean he can be labled a better canidate for a rapist, when sources say it is his TEMPER that made Hyde, not lust or anything like that) it serves no purpose to do this and should only be reserved for characters who will later get their testicles burnt off in a beaker of acid.

Nemo's comic version was very much a psychotic blood knight, perhaps have him enjoy fighting a few baddies a bit TOO much and start to slip back into his own ways and has to be pulled back by the rest of the League.

Heck, this could even apply to NemoxJekyll fics, Henry is BRITISH, from a people who Nemo spent almost his whole life despising and wanting dead (women and children might be an exeption to this given his movie reaction to the idea of using them as hostages as "monsterous" but movie!Nemo has a moral compass that seems like it would work most of the time)

Since even comic!Nemo paid Jekyll a compliment on his genius (and I don't think Captain Nemo of all people would use that word lightly) but I can see him sometimes slipping back into old habits on bad days, not out of malice, but old habits die hard as they say, and book!Nemo already suffered from a mental break once, so he could have moments of coldness despite legitamitly loving his new friends or drama from Jekyll thinking he might just be a replacement for Ishmael (or in MinaxHenry fics thinking he is a replacement for Jonathan) instead of being loved for himself

Movie!Quartermain could have had a drug habit after losing his wife and son, but got clean by the time of the movie but someone tries to lure him back into that life by bringing up bad memories

There are ways to make the story itself "darker' without having to go the rape route, or if there is rape, kindly do not make it someone we are supposed to ENJOY watching or reading about.

Or if you did wanted to toe other issues, Sawyer could mistake one of Nemo's crew for Injun-Joe in the dark and panic, having to explain the story and maybe bringing up his friend Huck helping a runaway slave (Sawyer did not seem racist in the film despite when he was supposed to come from so PTSD not racism would be the cause of the fear)

Or Nemo letting Janni think he is dead because he feels she would be happier that way (do people just assume ALL foriegn parents are sexist assholes to their girls? I do admit that several families are awful to girls, but I'm sure not ALL were like that even back when the story takes place, and especially not in modern!AU) And Movie!Nemo did not seem to mind Mina at all even before she revealed the ability to rip out necks, and even saved her life in the library scene )

Tom seems like the sunshine child, but he would be a PTSD ridden MESS after what he has gone though in both the book and in the canon backstory of his best buddy Huck finn being KILLED pre-movie )

Mina has lost EVERYTHING, her husband, her humanity and perhaps even her child and other friends from either time, illness or wanting to keep them safe from her condition, her taking Dorian and possibly others as lovers admittedly sounds on the surface like a woman embracing her sexuality and not fearing it.

And yes that can be seen as true, or you can look at her like another version of Nora Fries from the Harley Quinn show, as in taking lovers as a way to disconnect from the pain of losing her husband

So many ideas but people just choose to fall back on rape…ughhh

sorry just needed to rant...

#lxg

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imhereforscm · 11 months

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Have you read any books by J. R. R. TOLKIEN? If you have, can you please recommend something for a beginner? I want to read high fantasy novels which are hopeful ( meaning you feel peaceful and hopeful while reading them ). I am not very fond of G. R. R MARTIN's novels, they make me feel sad, everybody around me including my friends mock me because i don't like reading his novels. 😔 So i am truly lost and i don't know where to start. Please recommend some of you favorite books and authors as well. Thank you, i hope i didn't waste too much of your time and if you are Martin 's fan, i hope i didn't offend you by writing this.

Hello hello!🤗👋

Unfortunately, I'm not familiar with these authors, so I can't recommend you anything from them. I'm sorry!💖

But in general, I'd love to recommend books I enjoy!😊❤️❤️

Classic literature:

• Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë (it contains religious themes and God plays an important role in certain part of the plot. I think it's portrayed in a positive way in that case though. But of course, I won't tell you what to like! Also, it's quite fast paced, but still dives deep into emotions and chemistry. I think it can be labeled as a type of gothic.)

• Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen (if you like regency and enemies to lovers, you'll find this book pretty nice. This one has a much slower pace than Jane Eyre. "Romantic academia" aesthetic.)

• The Picture Of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde (gothic, portrays heavy themes, such as su! c! de and graphic mu rd e®, so beware if you're triggered by those things. It's basically a moral trip through the mindset of evil and insane, of course nothing to follow into your life as a positive role model. Philosophical.)

A book I think is great for healing and is my comfort book:

• The Midnight Library - Matt Haig (Deals with the theme of su! c! de, but I think it does it well and the lesson/meaning it passes through its pages is a every emotional and beautiful one. This book is great comfort for me actually and has helped me before, where life was less than kind. It talks about the weight of our existence and how it impacts everything and everyone, even if we don't realize it right now.)

Murder mysteries:

• Anything by Agatha Christie!! I seriously adore her and Poirot is so intriguing. What stands out me about her books compared to other murder mysteries I've read, is that it investigates the case by a psychological level. It doesn't just look at footprints, fingerprints and DNA. It unravels all the skein of human nature, its emotions and mental states.

High fantasy:

• Girl, Serpent, Thorn - Melissa Bashardoust (I've read high fantasy a couple of times before, but this one was the one I actually loved. It doesn't normalize death and murder, like a lot of high fantasy books I've come across and the characters are actually meaningful, having their own personalities, beliefs, fears and goals. Also, the protagonist is a bisexual icon and the book actually portrays healthy romance✨ Now, it has a gripping plot throughout the book and a lot of adrenaline, so idk if you're going to like it, since you told me you wanted something more calm and soothing.😅 But the internal development of the protagonist is so inspiring. How she learns to love herself and embrace who she is, whilst finding ways to use her abilities to their fullest potential.)

Also, liking something different from someone else is completely okay!! No one should ever make fun of you for your taste in things. You are a being as much entitled to their opinion as anyone else and you shouldn't suffocate your voice. You have every right to love the things you want to love and dislike the things you want to dislike (as long as you don't shame people who do like those things—I'm not saying you shame them, I'm talking in general to anyone reading this!💖).

And you didn't waste my time, sweetie! I enjoyed sharing my book recs with you.💖💖

#book recommendations

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wittybibliophile · 6 months

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HAPPY NOVEMBER!!

Hello my lovelies!!! Another month starts and the big fat quote for our big stomachs... 😂Well this is from the first book of dirty air series... Noah had bad parents, neglectfully selfish mother and very much punishable father... so today we see a scene, noah talking to his mother who called again for just VIP tickets for the grand race. "Everytime my mom asks for tickets. I get them. In the whole scheme of things, i never thought to say no because it was easy to do, Easy to give in to my toxic parents. Simple to not put up a fight, not wanting to make waves like my dad despite how sick it made me feel to be used over and over again. *On Call* I hate every second of this call, of the battle waging inside of me to not hang up the phone. But i want to show myself why i need to let go. Why i can't fall back into a damaging relationship with my parents because their love is conditional. And if i learned one thing in therapy, besides the fact that crying makes my face puffy as fuck, is how love doesn't come with conditions. No ifs, ands, or buts. It should make you a better person not because you have to be, but because you want to be. Noah's Mom: "Clarissa (her friend) is asking if you could also access some VIP passes for the afterparty? We personally like the one with the champagne company, but we aren't against others". Looks like she can produce more than three words at a time. But like a gumball machine she only works when you put money in her. " you know i don't think this is going to work" Time to rip of the band-aid. Because why the fuck not, with everything else in the Slade family is going to shit. She sighs " what do you mean?" "You, me and your ex-lover Nicholas. The whole thing. I can't do this to myself anymore, trying to be a son i thought both of you wanted. Instead you only contact me when convenient. And shockingly you withheld your one-step user card for the whole year until now. But in case you didn't know, I got into the worst crash of my career two weeks ago. And how many times did you call on me to check? None. Hell, how many times have you called me this whole season? Besides the one misdial?" She's silent, not speaking a word. " I appreciate you for giving birth to me, for being whatever you tried to be. But it's over. You should have protected me from him. The first time he hit me, you walked away because you didn't want to threaten your allowance. Time and time again, you let me down. So, by all means, let it be my turn. I can't get you tickets. Not now. Not next year. Not ever again. If you have an interest in calling me to get to know me as a person, let me know. If not, have a good life". I wait holding the phone to my ear, willing her to say anything. Closure is a funny concept. Everyone talks about how cathartic it feels, but no one describes the pain you experience before. The courage needed to push through tough situations. How much it rips a person up to know why they need to let go, not because they want to, but because they have to. My whole life, i lived chasing an unattainable prize of my parent's love. I sped down racetracks and life, willing it to go faster, but now i want to slow down. Enjoy the moments with people who matter, who want to remember my birthday, or who know five facts about me that can't be googled. The dial tone greets me. I clutch my phone, my lungs taking in the fresh air. For once, i have no ill will toward her, only wishing her the best. Everything falls into place. My therapist said i needed to face my past to embrace my future. Looks like i went to hell and back, scoring an angel along the way" - Throttled (Lauren Asher) *Sometimes we need to see what's not okay! And sometimes we may need help too to see it. But we need to accept it and go through it all alone by ourselves. And from this book i've learned that the people we leave behind are there because they need to be there and not in our lives. Hope everyone can see and deal with the negatives in their lives. Xoxo, Ironically Witty!

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one-time-i-dreamt · 3 years

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Admin's dream

I myself rarely dream, but last night I had an interesting dream that I remember fairly well, so I thought I should share.

I traveled to another town for a university meeting and I was being hosted by a girl who lived there and went to a similar school to mine. We became fast friends and spent a few days exploring the city with some of her friends, who helped to show me around.

Soon, they revealed to me that they were members of an organization fighting against some shady people living there. They had a mission and took me with them, even though I wasn't fully briefed about what was going on.

It turned out that we were taking infant twins to their grandfather. With the help of my friend who also lived in that town, we got the grandfather's location. We left the twins on his door and went to spend the evening at my friend's flat.

Some of my other friends from Zagreb arrived and they took me out, and we went to a late night book signing and I got a present from a columnist I loved as a teenager. My friends went clubbing, but I kept thinking about the twins.

I went back to the place we left them, and found them to still be there, out in the cold, despite their grandfather allegedly being informed that they were out. I took off my hoodie and covered them in it and rang the door, risking revealing myself, who was already unrelated to the mentioned organization, to the "other side". For some reason, all of this should've been done in secrecy, but I didn't care anymore, because I was worried for the children.

I knew the other side was dangerous, but I thought the kids were much more important than me, as they were innocent. A handsome man arrived at the place where the twins were (which was in front of somebody's front door) and I tried to stop him to get him to take them, but he didn't even notice them.

He bared his fangs at me and I realized that he was a vampire. The street where we were at was so busy and I couldn't understand why nobody noticed the kids nor tried to help them before me, as they were crying before I came.

The man entered the house and I was left there, in the middle of the night, holding the basket with the kids, feeling extremely cold. I decided to take the kids to the police station, which was just down the street.

After I was sure they were safe, I went back to my friend's flat and found the door unlocked. I changed into something warm and went back out, because nobody was answering me and I got worried. I found my friend dead drunk and carried her home on my back.

A neighbor of hers, who was also her coworker, came out to help me. She arranged a place for me to sleep, and I went to bed and woke up early and went to meet my host. I didn't tell her what I did. I realized that none of the people from the organization went to check on the babies and they would likely have died if I didn't save them.

We went to an old aqueduct, sat on an old wall and talked. They explained to me that they were fighting against an organization of vampires and that the grandfather of the babies was also a vampire, but they were on cordial terms with him. They had some sort of a pact to eliminate his son's faction.

We went out again at night and I saw the handsome man again. Our eyes met and he smiled sinisterly, but I knew he didn't recognize me from the day before. Him and his crew were at a club, and my friend tagged along with them. I realized she intentionally gave us the wrong location so we'd give his kids back to him, but didn't bother checking on the babies herself and would've allowed them to pass away because she only cared about the father.

I had a bad feeling. Through one way or another, the father and I met and struck up an unexpected friendship. He kept teasing me like a friend would and I realized that he thought my friend brought back his babies to him.

As we became friends, he revealed to me a shocking truth - his ex was a member of my host's organization and he really loved her but she used him for information and then left him and broke his heart and didn't even tell him she was pregnant. She died on another mission and nobody wanted to take care of her babies, so the organization wanted to give them to their grandfather.

I felt sad for the handsome vampire boss because it was clear he would've forgiven his dead lover anything, if only she said she was sorry and came back to him, but she would've never done that because she didn't care for him nor did she love him.

It felt like he started falling in love with my friend. He was extremely grateful to her for saving his children and brought presents to her all the time and treated her nicely. I sometimes tagged along when they were going out with his crew and I started feeling wrong about the way she was using him. It felt like past was repeating itself, but at least I knew this friend wanted him, even if she was lying to him.

I got ready to go out with them again and I realized I was a bit jealous. That was a weird realization to me, because up until that moment, I didn't think I was falling for the boss, but now it became apparent that I was and that I was angry at my friend for lying to him and wanting him for all the wrong reasons.

The night was windy like the first night I saw him, the cold night when I saved the twins, and I was shivering. He put his coat around me and was closer to me physically than ever before. He took a whiff of me and said he knew my perfume.

I realized it was the same perfume I was wearing on that first night. He realized that I was the one who saved his kids, but didn't say anything. His people finished getting all the surveillance images and background info on all the players involved, including me.

He found out I was an unrelated stranger who decided to help his kids when everyone else abandoned them. He started seeing me in a different light, and my friend realized that. She confronted me and told me that I shouldn't be getting involved with the supernatural and things I knew nothing about and that I should just go home while I still can.

I felt sad, but knew she was right. This wasn't my home, wasn't my place to be. I packed up my things and got ready to go back. I talked to her kind coworker and she told me that I shouldn't be listening to anyone who didn't have my best interest in mind. I also knew she was right and that my friend wasn't really my friend, she didn't really care for me. She just used me. She was the one who set me up with that host, so she could orchestrate everything through them.

I boarded a bus and waited for it to take me home, when it was stopped by a convoy of armed men. I didn't know what was going on. A man entered the bus carrying two babies. It was the man, my vampire man. He told me I was going back with him, and I got up and nodded my head. Everyone else was flabbergasted, but the vampires erased their memories.

I went back to the vampire boss' place and finally learned his real name. He told me his whole story and I realized that he was a good person underneath it all. I started to question my host's organization. The vampires weren't the bad ones in all of this, I was sure.

And I was sure that I loved this man and that he has cared for me from the first time that we met, though he felt he should be grateful to my "friend" for saving his children, and was giving her attention out of that and nothing else, but was inviting me everywhere as well because he was drawn to me as much as I was drawn to him.

I started living with him and we started getting to know one another. The children loved me and took to me right away and I adored them and adored their father as well. We grew closer by the day.

He went on a mission and didn't come back from it and his men told me he was lost in action. I was crushed and started crying and breaking things and shaking in anger, I blamed everybody including myself and was mad at them for leaving him. They went on a recovery mission and could not find any trace of him.

I waited for days and kept hoping for good news. I was sure he was still alive and that I would feel if something had happened to him. Suddenly, he had appeared. He was alive and well. He was hiding until then because he was setting a trap.

I threw myself into his embrace and started yelling at him. I told him he wasn't allowed to do that ever again because his kids loved him and I loved him and we couldn't live without him. He was so happy to hear that, because it was the first time anyone ever told him they loved him and meant it. He told me he loved me as well.

I was so happy.

I knew it was real, our love was real.

Then I woke up.

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the-hidden-pages · 3 years

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Misread Affections - Laszlo Kreizler/Fem!Reader SMUT

I started at midnight. I had 0 words. It’s 4:30am. I have 4643 words because I have fallen deeply for Doctor Laszlo Kreizler. Forgive me for this.

Synopsis: With all your history together, you and Doctor Kreizler believe you understand each other. Yet when you believe him to be infatuated with Karen Stratton, and he believes you to have affection for Marcus Isaacson, you’re both stunned when you find yourselves to be proven wrong.

Warnings: NSFW. Desk Sex. Dirty Talk. Patient-to-Friend-to-Lover. Definite depression and general self-loathing.

SPOILERS FOR THE SECOND SEASON!!!!!!

You had always admired the man Doctor Laszlo Kreizler was.

He championed those who could not champion themselves. He worked tirelessly to understand the minds of criminals. To those very same criminals, and many others that lived as outcasts to society, he would offer kindness and understanding. At his best he was beyond intelligent and, daresay, sweet.

At his worst, he was ruthless, and his own self-loathing would have him come across as unempathetic most days. While preaching to others to care for himself, he would often forego his own care. While offering an ear and a receptive mind, he would refuse to offer himself the same.

You knew this within mere days of knowing Doctor Kreizler. And such facts made you rather fond of him.

A fondness that was not helped by his handsome build, his dark locks, his scrutinizing gaze.

And yet no part of you could justify ever acting upon this fondness.

You had come to him both as a patient and a colleague. You had always been aware of a darkness within yourself, ever since you were a child. This darkness had only grown, too often all-consuming, leaving you. a dysfunction wreck of a human being. However, you had an obligation to keep going, a promise you had sworn to your sister to continue your own existence. So, exist you did.

While your family’s fortune wasn’t enough to send you to Harvard, like the Doctor himself, it did allow for you to be a reasonably educated woman of the times. A deep fascination in understanding your own darkness led you to the work of alienists, and eventually to the work of Doctor Kreizler.

While you couldn’t often justify breaking societal rules to such an extent, you found yourself motivated enough to call upon the Doctor with a proposition – should he aide you in understanding your own illness of the brain, you would offer any services you could to the Kreizler Institute.

You could tell he was curious of you. A woman of your standing did not often make such demands with such authority, nor so blatantly admit to her own illnesses. He quickly agreed, eager to study why you considered yourself so damaged, and happy to take on an extra set of hands with the children he looked after.

Over time, you begun to slip effortlessly into Doctor Kreizler’s life.

You met the likes of Cyrus and Stevie, along with many others that worked at the Institute. You were then blown away by the strength within Miss Sara Howard, and the pure, undiluted love that Mister John Schuyler Moore could show others. You were even called upon on several occasions to be a fresh set of eyes, the murders of young boy prostitutes and kidnappings of babies not deterring you, to the surprise and reluctant joy of the Doctor.

And as Doctor Kreizler studied you, you studied him.

You slowly learned of all the emotion he kept hidden behind the façade of professionalism. The kindness, the love, the anger, the fear. While he showed none of these most days, occasionally a concoction of such feeling would burst in an overwhelming outpour.

In offering him a platonic safe space, a place for him to talk through such outbursts should he wish, he in turn aided you.

The darkness you felt for so long began to subside some days, and between the efforts of him and a passing remark from John, you learned of an outlet for your darker thoughts – writing.

While expressing your own emotions and turmoil did not come easy, you found it far simpler when written down on paper, as opposed to spoken aloud to a judging room.

Doctor Kreizler gifted you a beautiful leather-bound journal a mere day after this revelation, with the request that you record your thoughts. He promised he would not read it unless you requested him to as an act of therapy.

For many days, you allowed him to read any thoughts that came to mind.

Thoughts of blood, of death, of pain and anger. Thoughts of a stolen childhood, of worthlessness, of longing.

Many days when he read your pages, you would be silently crying as he did, fearful of his judgement. But it never came.

Instead, he would close the book silently, and offer you professional advice.

One particularly rough day, in which your narrative was beyond vicious to you, he closed the book before finishing, and offered you something you didn’t expect – an embrace.

He hugged you so tightly, that for once…

Your inner monologue ceased.

His own, however, raged on.

How could you think so lowly of yourself, he wondered? While he could understand mindsets built from trauma, he couldn’t help but wish you could see yourself through his own eyes. Your empathy when you cared for the children in the Institute. Your intelligence when conversing with Miss Howard. Your artistic delight when laughing with John. And the perspective, the warmth you offered such a broken man such as himself.

Neither of you knew, in that exact moment, that the other was realizing the fondness you both held in your hearts for each other.

And neither of you knew how truly broken the other felt at their core.

Two souls, believing themselves to be undeserving of love, finding it in their hearts for the other.

When the beautiful, cunning Doctor Karen Stratton entered the picture, you asked Doctor Kreizler to refrain from reading your journal.

He was hurt by this, but profession and courtesy claimed that he could not show it.

You began to withdraw from him, placing your entire focus on the case of the stolen babies and your focus on the children in the Institute. Kreizler, in his own difficulties of potentially losing the said Institute, took notice of your own withdrawal from your sessions, but held enough hope that you had found stability to care for yourself. You still conversed with Sara, you smiled with John. You had even been introduced to the Isaacsons, and he had wondered if you had taken a liking to Marcus.

You deserved a young man such as him, he told himself, heart heavy. A whole, young man with enough strength to support you.

And on the night of Marcus’ death, he believed it to be confirmed.

He found you alone, in his study where you so often had your sessions with him. You were curled inwards on yourself, clutching your journal as though it were your lifeline, sobbing uncontrollably.

He moved to console you, arms holding you tightly.

“It’s all too much,” you choked out, unable to articulate much more.

Doctor Kreizler nodded, waiting for you to be able to go on.

You regained some breath with difficulty. “I just…I can’t stand to lose a friend. Not after everything else lately.”

“I know how difficult it can be, to lose one you love…” Kreizler began, not noticing how your sobs stopped in confusion. “After Mary, I…Well I swore I would never again…The point is, I-“ he stopped short.

You had spluttered out a laugh.

Your hand covered your mouth immediately, noticing what had just happened. You immediately moved to cover it up, wiping away your tears and standing up away from him. “No, no, Doctor. Heavens, Marcus…well, he was loved but, I saw…I see the Isaacsons as brothers I never had. He was dear to me but…not in the sense I suspect that Mary was to you.”

“I…see…” Doctor Kreizler pulled back, sitting in his study chair as he gazed at you. “Apologies, I seem to have misread your relationship. Nonetheless, his death has greatly affected you, as it has all of us. I suspect it will be a very difficult grieving process, but…” he manages a soft, rare smile that warmed your heart. “We will endure it together, as we have these cases.”

“Will we?” your voice grew empty as your thoughts swirled.

He titled his head, unsure of where this was leading. You gathered your courage to question him.

“Rumour has it, Doctor Stratton has asked you to join her in Vienna. I wonder if you’ll go.”

Silence falls over the room.

Laszlo couldn’t understand what this had to do with anything. Your crying, your distress over Marcus. What did his leaving have to do with any of your distress?

“You’re greatly upset by something,” he eventually said, gazing at you with a more analytical eye than before. “I’m afraid you give me too much credit, if you think I know the specifics of it.”

“I-“ you stopped, clearing your throat as you choked up. Your knuckles turned white on your journal’s edges, hands shaking. “Doctor Kreizler-“

“It’s been months since we’ve known each other,” he interrupts, “and we haven’t held a session together in nearly five weeks. Would it pain you to call me Laszlo? Are we not…friends?”

You gaped at him, but his face remained unreadable.

You shake your head. “Yes, it…it would pain me. It would pain me a great deal, Doctor – it does pain me a great deal to hear you call me a friend when…”

“When what?” he prompts you sharply, and you inhale quickly.

“When I feel I’ve been dishonest with you, unkind to you…” had the room not been dead still, Laszlo might have missed the next words you whispered. “I feel I’ve been perverse to you.”

If he was confused, he didn’t show it. And you were talking now, the words spilling out, a cascade unable to end.

“I feel as though…had Marcus not…died…tonight, I might never have done this. But then my mind, it began spinning so quickly I couldn’t stop it, and I couldn’t help but imagine countless scenarios in which Libby, in which the Dusters, in which…well, in which any number of causes might take your life as well. In which you might die before…before I can confess…” You huff, your words getting caught once again. With a determined move, your arm shot out to pass your journal to him, and Kreizler takes note of a particular page being creased.

He looks up at you, but you don’t meet his eye.

“I’ve marked where I want you to start reading. Just…go from there. Inform me when you’re finished.”

You walk over to the window, desperate to be distracted, as Doctor Kreizler opens the book and reads at your request.

He can’t comprehend what he’s reading at first.

While he had grown accustomed to your twisted perception of yourself, he hadn’t realized just how ruthless the self-loathing could take you. Endless doubt of your friendships with the team, with your position as a caretaker, in your abilities to be a friend. And as words continue, he realizes your doubts in being a partner, a lover.

If he grows flustered at the words he reads, he’s determined not to show it to you.

He reads your envy of women like Sara Howard, able to move forward with such strength and certainty, and of Karen Stratton, so brash, so forward. Your envy is strong towards her, in her abilities to understand sexuality, passion, human desire, and in…

In her connection to himself.

His eyes widen as your own ramblings seem to uncover a truth you hadn’t explored before – your attraction to the Doctor that had aided you, offered you employment. The pure taboo of such affections, yet your inability to stop it. Your adoration, your admiration for the intimidating, raw man that he was. How you felt unworthy, that you would hold him back, that he deserved a woman as delightful as Doctor Stratton, a woman who could stimulate him academically, that could pleasure him physically. How you felt so deeply ashamed of harbouring such elicit fantasies of the man that had been nothing but kind to you. How you loved him so deeply it made you want to die, because you would never be deserving –

You heard the journal snapping shut, and you couldn’t bring yourself to face the Doctor, knowing what he must’ve read, dreading what he must now be thinking.

The silence lasted far longer than you would’ve liked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“I find myself taken aback more often than I like,” Kreizler’s voice shatters the still air. “I believe myself to be so wise, so understanding of the mind, and yet I come across a mind such as yours that I…I truly cannot fathom how you think what you think.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, voice breaking as tears begin to flow again.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a hand on your own. You don’t dare to turn around, frozen like a rabbit having been sniffed out by a hound.

“You think me to be attracted to Doctor Stratton, am I correct?”

You nod. Of course, he was. Was it not obvious?

“Karen and I are colleagues, and friends, should I be too bold to assume so. I can recognize that she is a physically beautiful woman, yes, and I’m sure some day she will make a man a very happy husband, should she wish. But her and I have a kinship, a partnership, not unlike what I believe you and Marcus might have had, that I too misinterpreted as love.”

You sniff, closing your eyes tightly. What was he trying to tell you?

Doctor Kreizler spins you around slowly, leading you to face him.

“I do not harbour half the affection in my heart for Doctor Stratton as I do for you.”

You freeze. “Doctor-“

“Please,” he reaches up to cup your face, wiping away several of the tears that had fallen. “Please call me Laszlo. You are not the only one to have an epiphany after the loss of our friend, my dear. If you are being so honest with me, I feel it only right to offer you the same.”

“Laszlo…” you whisper, meeting his eyes for the first time since he read your words. His heart breaks with the pain within them. “How can you do this? Look at me, hold me, when you see how broken I am? I’m undeserving-“

“You would choose to love, to care for a cripple, a shell of a man in the eyes of society. A man who has too often neglected the children he cares for, often spat in the face of those he dares to call his friends. If either of us is undeserving of the other’s love, my dear, it’s me.”

Your brows furrow angrily, reaching up to mirror him, cupping his own face with both of yours. “Laszlo Kreizler you stop that right now, I won’t hear any more of…you’re smiling. How could you be smiling?”

He leans into one of your hands affectionately, a rare, dashing smile lighting up his features in a way you cherished to see, despite the circumstances. “Perhaps we are both wrong. Perhaps…perhaps we need each other, to use each other’s eyes and hearts to understand who we truly are. We both have such lowly opinions of ourselves but…perhaps it was meant to be.”

Your own smile was beginning to form, despite your best efforts, as your brain’s screaming of all that could go wrong began to quieten.

“I hesitate to believe in fate, Doctor…” you trail off, taking a step closer, your heart filled with hope and eyes filled with wonder. “I hesitate further to admit to needing someone, and yet…my brain is only ever kind and quiet when I’m around you.”

Laszlo’s weaker arm rests on your hip, while the thumb of the hand caressing your face moves to trace your chin. “My language is not as…poetic, as yours, my dear,” he confesses, and you both chuckle, “but I very much would like to kiss you, with your permission.”

“Laszlo, you could do anything to me,” you confess, reaching forward to finally meet his lips.

It’s messy, and uncoordinated, but any lack of experience the pair of you may have is made up for by the pure, electric eagerness that overtakes the both of you. You’re both exploring, testing each other, in some give and take dance that does not seem to quell any emotions within you, instead quite the opposite.

You could kiss him forever, you quickly realize.

But by some cruel twist of fate, you have to pull away, air taking priority.

You stare wildly at him as he breathes heavily, eyes darker than you had ever seen, with a sense of uncertainty that you hadn’t ever seen about him before.

A teasing smile finds its way onto your face, as you can’t help but test your luck.

“How far, exactly, did you read in my book?”

He blinks at you a couple of times, uncertain of your line of questioning. “I read of your jealousy, of your shame, I don’t…I don’t believe I finished it all, I found I had to address the issue before I continued –“

“Would you like to know what else was in there?”

Laszlo appeared flustered as you led him back to his plush chair, and you knelt down between his legs to pick up the book that had fallen to the ground. You don’t offer it to him, however, instead putting it aside.

“My dear, I don’t –“

“I ask you to stop me, if my advances are too…forward to you, Laszlo.”

You slowly rise from your place, moving to lift your skirts so you might position yourself above the Doctor, straddling him in his chair. As if on its own accord, his good hand rises to situate on your waist tightly. You gently grasp his weaker hand, his “broken wing”, and lift it to your mouth, delicately kissing the palm, each finger.

Laszlo mutters your name, transfixed by your mouth’s movements.

“I would love every part of you,” you begin, continuing your assault of affection as you whisper against the part of him, he views as most broken. “I would care for you in every capacity in which I’m capable. I would strive to be deserving of you in every which way.” You drop his hand and lean forward, hands grasping the back of the chair as you hold his gaze. “I would have you claim every part of me, I would have your marks for the world to see, if you wished. I’ve dreamt of you and I in the most compromising positions that I dare not say, on nearly every surface of your study, my bedroom, the Institute. I would give you every single piece of me, Laszlo, every ounce of my attraction. I would give you my darkest sins and my deepest pleasure, if you would allow me too. Please, Doctor Kreizler, let me please you.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting from your confession.

Perhaps you wondered if he would push you away, exclaiming that your desires were too much, your words too sinful, and that he would cease associations with you immediately. Perhaps you thought he would scold you for being too wanton, too unbecoming of a woman of your standing. Perhaps you hoped the worst that would happen is he would kiss you softly and instruct that you both go to bed in separate rooms, that more carnal needs could be discussed at a later date.

Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to feel Laszlo shift and harden beneath you, eyes growing so dark they were nearly completely black, and have him reach his hand to curl around the back of your neck.

And you certainly didn’t expect the deep growl that escaped him as his lips, tongue, and teeth clashed with yours frantically, animalistically.

Neither of you had experience, you both knew this.

But you both knew what you wanted, what you needed, and that would be enough to motivate you.

You both took what you could, Laszlo leaving your lips to reach what he could of your neck, lavishing it with lips and tongue. He explored expertly, quickly learning what you liked based upon the quickening of your breath, of your pulse. What was left of his analytical mind was fascinated by the chain reaction of events, how you spurred each other on.

When he nipped at your ear, your hips rolled uncontrollably, and a rough groan escaped him unconsciously.

Fascinating indeed.

He panicked slightly when you stood, wondering if he had stepped too far. The panic raised as you strode across his study, heading quickly to the door.

“Wait, my dear, I-“

“Calm down, Laszlo,” you hushed him, and he heard a loud click of the door locking from where he sat. “I merely don’t wish to be interrupted. If this is still what you wish.”

He leans back in his chair, breathing heavily, observing you as you stand once again before him. “I should be asking you what you want, my darling.”

You grin, shaking your head. “Was my speech before not enough for you to know what I want, Doctor Kreizler? Can you not infer exactly what I want from you from the writings in my journal? It’s your turn to share, else I might just leave you like this.”

His good hand involuntarily juts forward, grasping yours desperately.

“Don’t you dare.”

You giggle, and he smiles at the sound.

“Then, tell me what you wish, Doctor.”

“I wish…” he trails off, watching as your hands move upward to begin slowly undressing yourself.

“Yes?” You prompt him teasingly, continuing your motions. “Don’t mind me.”

Laszlo shifts in his chair, erection clearly visible by the bulge in his slacks. “I…I wish…” his voice trails off again as his eyes take in every inch of your skin that’s uncovered. “I wish to be with you in every manner. Intellectually, spiritually, physically. I wish to connect with you in a way I never will with any other living creature on this Earth. I wish to feel you around me, to bring you to climax. I wish to fill you, to be yours, to fuck you, to make you Mrs. Kreizler…”

He stops at that, only becoming aware of his own ramblings you straddled him once again, completely nude.

The faintest voice in his head wondered if you made him stupid, but it was silence as his eyes took you in completely.

“You are the most gorgeous specimen I’ve ever been graced with seeing, my love.”

You pull him in to a languid kiss, gently tasting each other as your hand travels down his chest.

“You speak of love, of my being Mrs. Kreizler…” you start, almost losing your train of thought as you feel him twitch beneath you, your hips rolling to meet his. “Another day I’ll ask you to remind me of those words. But for now…” you lean forward, mouth grazing his ear, causing him to shiver. “I need you to fuck me, Doctor Laszlo Kreizler.”

For all of your faith in him, you don’t expect the next feat of strength.

With only his good arm he manages to lift the pair of you from the chair, quickly placing you upwards and onto the desk of his own study, mindless of the papers underneath you, of any others that might be in the building as you shriek in surprise.

He captures your mouth with his, more forceful, captivating, as his good hand explores your form, grasping both of your breasts before heading downwards to the warmth between your thighs. His fingers collect some of the wetness that had escaped your folds and examines it with an almost mocking scientific fascination.

“Is this all for me, my darling?” he questions, and you find yourself at a loss for words as he curiously lifts his fingers to his mouth, his tongue slowly tasting you off of them.

“Fuck, Laszlo,” you whisper, reaching forward to pull him in for a kiss again as he chuckles darkly against you.

His teasing ends when your hands wander downward, now working at the buttons of his slacks frantically, your palm grazing across his length through his pants, causing him to gasp.

“My God,” he pants out, and you pull him out of his slacks. He’s hard, warm, rigid in your palm, with veins and girth that you hadn’t imagined in any of your fantasies, but was now all you could imagine filling you, ending that emptiness that you felt.

“Please,” you whimper, and he gently removes your hand, before lining his cock up with your entrance.

He meets your eyes, checking one last time to ensure this was what you wanted.

“Laszlo, please –“your begging is cut short as he breaches you slowly, pushing his full weight forward as the pair of you connect.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

A tantalizing combination of pleasure and pain, your mind repeating an endless mantra of “Laszlo”, which you realize, when he’s fully inside, flush against you, that you’re muttering out loud.

“Oh, my love,” he breathes, his damaged arm lightly resting on your thigh, his other gripping your hip so tightly you knew there would be marks.

“You feel so right,” you mindlessly breathe, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him twitching inside you at the comment. You would remember that he likes praise, but…

“I don’t know that I will last long, my love,” Laszlo warns, his voice low, gravely, warm against your neck as he buries his face into it, pressing kisses into the skin of your shoulder.

It crosses your mind that you’re completely nude and he’s fully clothed, but the thought fills you with warmth rather than disappointment.

“Nor will I, but this will happen again, won’t it?” you question, a hint of doubt crossing your voice.

The Doctor silences it immediately, kissing you deeply. “Every night, every hour if you would let me, my darling. You are so wonderful…”

“Then please, fuck me Laszlo. I want to cum, I want you to fill me, I – oh!”

The first snap of his hips was relentless, and it was only more intense from there.

He was strong, sure of his movements, chasing his own pleasure and encouraging yours as much as he could, pressing kisses into your neck, your breasts, your lips, his good hand finding your hair tightly. Broken moans left you as dark, rasping breaths escaped him, and it was all too soon before you felt your peak approaching, familiar with the sensation from lonely nights with your own hand curiously working against yourself.

“Laszlo, Doctor Kreizler, I-“ at your moaning of his title, something in him snapped, and his teeth sunk into where your neck met your shoulder.

A deep cry left you as you reached your climax, a white-hot rush waving over you.

As your cunt clenched around him, Laszlo lost himself, growling his native German tongue as he lost his rhythm, heat filling you as he came.

You two didn’t have much time to come down from your highs, as the door to his home could be heard opening and closing from the floors below.

“Doctor Kreizler?” Sara Howard could be heard calling.

Your eyes wide, you rushed to put yourself back together, close wrinkled, roughly thrown back on and your hair being a wreck. You hoped you could pass it off as merely the result of a rough day, an intense mental break.

You turned to Kreizler, who was a picture of perfection, seeming to not be rattled by the events before…almost.

“Back to the case…?” he trailed off, his voice filled with uncertainty, and you smiled fondly at the terribly awkward, intelligent man before you.

You step forward and kiss him softly, the warmth between your legs and bruises on your thigh a reminder of what had just occurred.

“Back to the case. We can continue our escapades when it’s all over, Doctor.”

He chuckles, confidence returning to him as he nods. “I look forward to it.”

#x reader smut #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #Laszlo kreizler fanfic #smut #godpleaseletmerest #Ineedsleep

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Enigmatic Feelings

Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,544

Warnings: None

Premise: Love is a potent force. And sometimes little things take on larger meanings, especially when one party is unaware of them.

In which the reader’s s/o is jealous

Author’s Note: This trope is 100% my guilty pleasure. I hope I did it justice.

I also realized while writing this that all these characters have the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, but they’re trying their best, so that’s what counts.

Albedo

Albedo was many things. A great alchemist, a man of secrets, a weapon with which one might someday bring destruction. He was even a lover, albeit an unpracticed one. But what he was not was emotional. Or so he thought.

Of course Albedo knew what jealousy was, knew the sort of stupidity that people could fall into when altogether too infatuated with their own love. But just because one knows what jealousy is does not mean one must fall prey to such things. Or so Albedo assumed.

It was the fourth day in a row that a knight had approached your door. Friedrich was his name, and he was doing a stellar job at capturing your attention, and pulling on emotions that Albedo had long told himself he didn’t contain.

Today the flower was a Windwheel Aster, swaying this way and that in the pocket of space between your two hands. You were smiling at it, or rather at Friedrich, brightly, fingers mere moments away from Friedrich as you went to claim the fourth flower this week. Though the was nothing necessarily untoward in Friedrich’s movements, and Albedo would much rather a person of integrity be attempting to woo you, even if the idea itself turned knots in his stomach; nevertheless it still left a bad taste in the alchemist’s mouth, and a worry in his heart that he was not so immune to jealousy as he’d previous assumed.

“Thank you!” You spoke to Friedrich, giving one last wave before walking back over to Albedo. “Albedo look! It’s a Windwheel Aster. It’s very nice of Friedrich to give me one, maybe I can use it, or maybe it’ll be helpful for your experiments?”

“Yes, thank you. I, I think you should keep it.”

As much as Albedo wanted to take the flower and throw it in the incinerator, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter the smile on your face. No matter how dearly it cost him to see you smile down once more at the delicate red petals. And no matter how much it haunted him the rest of the day to imagine you, face framed by a smile, a bouquet of a random knight’s making in your hands.

That knight as Albedo put away the Bunsen burners and the graduated cylinders he kept his mind preoccupied by thoughts of you. Surely he had to tell you his feelings, for if not they would keep building in his chest; building and building until one day he erupted, with you in the line of fire rather than the knight who was creating this whole dilemma, perhaps even unwittingly. Though Albedo had never been in a relationship before he knew stories. Weren’t books full of those kinds of moments? Men, women, people, all of them running over one another in their misunderstanding, in their overwhelming guilt.

No, he wouldn’t turn out like that, wouldn’t let the two of you be hurt in such a way. He had to tell you. Had to make you understand how much his chest constricted when he saw you carrying the gifts of others, had to let it be known before he lost control of these emotions. After all, wasn’t that what happened with emotions? They grow and grow and one day they spill over. And Albedo never wanted these emotions to spill over. No matter the cost.

“May I tell you something?”

The sunlight was streaming through the laboratory windows, the air warm enough that Sucrose had tied up her hair during her shift. And yet Albedo felt cold, oh so cold. He was going to tell you today. He hadn’t been able to tell you three days ago, nor two days ago, nor yesterday. And now the bouquet of flowers that occupied a tiny glass on the windowsill felt quite large indeed. Today would be day eight if Friedrich showed up at lunchtime, and before that Albedo would tell you.

“Of course you can Albedo, I’m all ears!”

You turned around, a soft smile once more spreading across your face. Putting down the pencil you’d been holding you leaned back against the lab table. Albedo took in a deep breath. He could do this. He would do this. He had to do this. No matter what, today. Today, he would do this.

“I-I’m jealous.” The words hung in the air for a moment, as if not understood.

“Jealous?” You tilted your head slightly, worry making your smile slip. “Albedo, jealous of what?”

“Of Friedrich, of you and Friedrich, or rather, I mean, of Friedrich giving you flowers.” Albedo paused, words tangling in his mouth, tripping on each other in an attempt to be understood. What if this was a mistake.

“Albedo,” you shook you head softly, walking over to cup your partner’s face, “I promise that there’s nothing in it. The flowers are lovely, of course, but nothing in this world could replace or stem my love for you. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know,” Albedo replied hurriedly, worried still that he might be misunderstood, “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, or say that I doubt you. My love, I will never doubt you. I just, I just feel so uncomfortable when he brings you flowers. It feels like, like I don’t know; it feels like I’m being poisoned, suddenly and all at once. And I don’t want it to affect the way I act towards you. So, so I wanted to tell you. You don’t have to stop, if those flowers make you happy then that’s what matters. But, but I just wanted to tell you.”

You said nothing, staring into Albedo’s eyes, gaze piercing through the alchemist. It was always that way with you. How you managed to destroy the control he thought he had, the wall he’d erected between himself and humanity. How you made him feel unsure and fallible and whole. And, just as before, now your gaze softened and you shook your head, your smile a balm for the raw unfamiliarity of putting together emotions.

“It’s okay Albedo, I’m glad you told me. Just like my emotions matter to you, I’d rather not see you unhappy. To be honest, I just never saw Friedrich’s actions in the way that he probably meant them. We all struggle with our feelings sometimes, I do just like you. Just as long as well tell each other, all will be well. Alright?”

“Yes. Thank you. I don’t know what I do without you.”

“Well you’ll never have to find out, so it doesn’t matter!”

There was no eighth flower that day, at least not one that was successfully given. Albedo supposed that he could pity Friedrich, but in reality he felt nothing but relief. The emotions that had left such a bad taste in his mouth seemed so far away now, for there was you, only you. It would only ever be you for him, and the days in which you said the same thing of him Albedo felt as if he could truly be happy, and truly acknowledge the emotions that swirled inside him, the love for you so great it spilled over into a vast ocean.

Diluc

Diluc found most merchants loathsome, something perhaps not entirely fair considering his own status as a mover of goods.

Still, merchants in general were an unlikeable bunch. Prone to complacency and greed, this elite circle was comprised of people who thought of little than of ways to line their pockets anew. It disgusted Diluc and as he stood there, watching as a man who had enough jewelry on his body to weigh down a pack mule and a smile that made one want to run in the other direction, throw compliments and boasts your way, the winery owner was reminded about all that was wrong with the world in which he worked.

“So your goal is to attempt to find a route through which we might trade our wine in Inazuma?” You repeated the words the man had just spoken, expression skeptical. “As much as it would mean good business to begin another trade route, I believe the border restrictions will cause no little difficulty.”

“Restrictions such as those are nothing for a man like me.” The merchant smile once more and Diluc felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. “I have the ability to wave past such an issue. Indeed with the right price I believe I could expand your network to include all of the seven major lands, if you haven’t been trading internationally.”

“Thank you for your offer.” You replied, too focused on the work in front of you to notice the merchant’s roving sort of gaze. “I’ll see what Master Diluc has to say. However I warn you, as much as international exports are important for a growing trade, smuggling wine into locked countries will do little good. Especially considering what the damage could do to this winery’s reputation if such a thing was found out.”

“Don’t worry, I assure you my methods are completely secure. In fact, if you’d like to discuss it in more depth, I do believe that I may be able to enlighten you over a meal.”

“Perhaps, although Master Diluc would certainly have to be there.” You smiled slightly, and Diluc wondered for a moment if you were being purposefully oblivious or simply didn’t notice the meaning behind the merchant’s words.

“I will be back tomorrow, perhaps you’ll have an answer then?”

“I’m sure I will.” You replied, smiling as the two of you shook hands. As the merchant walked out of the winery your smile morphed into a sort of smirk and you looked up towards the balcony of the second floor.

“You can come out now Diluc, I know you’re there.”

Diluc couldn’t help but smile at those words, he truly couldn’t get anything past you. Hurrying down the stairs he swept you up in his arms, sighing slightly into your neck as you tightened the embrace.

“Ever so observant, my darling.”

“I know that you’d never let a transaction or a business conversation take place without your knowledge.” There was a playfulness to your voice, coming from the knowledge that you were utterly correct. “Still, you could’ve come downstairs you know. I don’t think that anyone would need to believe that you were going through your ‘very important paperwork, and lurking around is your night job.’”

“It seemed somehow wrong to suddenly appear in front of you two and derail the conversation.” Diluc drew away and placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, chuckling when you immediately wrinkled it. “Especially since you were doing so well on your own.”

“Oh he’s just like the rest of them,” you sighed, “altogether a bit too full of themselves.”

“Especially in this one’s case.” Diluc said, finally letting a scowl cross his face.

“What do you mean?”

The look on your face was one of innocence and confusion, and for a moment Diluc felt his thoughts stammer, as he realized that you truly were unaware of the way that the merchant was looking at you, unaware of the manner which caused Diluc even now to continue to press his hand gently against your lower back. If you didn’t notice it, then surely Diluc was overreacting, surely there was no reason for his heart to stutter and his stomach to drop. Surely there was no reason, and surely he shouldn’t tell you.

“Nothing at all, I just didn’t like his face.” He hurried now to reply, realizing how odd his pause must’ve seemed. “Will you be accepting his proposal for a business dinner?”

“I’m not sure. I suppose it couldn’t hurt. And then it might be a good venue for the two of you to talk. Since you find him especially ghastly, I think a more public meeting might be easier.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t think that invitation was meant for me.” Diluc replied, before realizing his gaffe and falling silent.

“What? What do you mean of course it’s meant for you. I mean you are the owner of the Winery. Who else would it be for?”

“For, for you my darling. Why else would he ask you in such a way?” Diluc tried to keep the acid out of his words. It wasn’t your fault after all. It wasn’t your fault that some louche was asking after you.

“But I’m not the one in charge.” You furrowed your brow. “I can’t make the final decision. And I won’t allow him to attempt to bypass getting your permission either.”

“My darling, I, I think he meant it a different way.”

“What way?”

Diluc sighed, capitulating quickly to his want to tell you. Even if it was perhaps selfish of him, he was never truly good at keeping his feelings masked away, at least in a way that didn’t result in him completely shutting down. And you meant to much to him than for Diluc to try and lie to you.

“You see, I think he was attempting to ask you on a more romantic sort of dinner.”

“What?”

Your reaction was immediate, your expression quickly turning into one of shock and then of disgust. Letting out a groan you buried your face into the front of Diluc’s coat, eliciting a short laugh from its owner.

“Why? I… I… Even if I weren’t in love with you I’d never go out to dinner with him.”

“I don’t think he would appreciate the sentiment.”

“Diluc.” You let out another groan, shaking your head as if to rid yourself of the thought. “Archons, ugh thank you for telling me. I, disgusting.”

Diluc said nothing, simply tightening the hold of his arms around you. Though your reaction was certainly justifiable he knew there was something more behind them, and he felt grateful for your consideration. Though he knew that would always have been your reaction, it didn’t stop the pressure that ha been building in his chest, the thoughts that screamed what if, what if, what if. What if there is something better than you.

“Hey, are you alright?” You voice drifted up through the fabric of Diluc coat. He smiled, relaxing his grasp around you and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I will be. May I hold you a little longer?”

“Of course. You’re the only one for me, you know.”

“And you for me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Those words, though so small, were somehow enough.

Xiao

The new guest at the inn had been speaking to you for quite some time. That was Xiao’s first observation. The second was that you didn’t seem to mind. The third was that for some reason he suddenly felt incredibly irritated.

It was a beautiful evening, the kind that would’ve normally had you and Xiao sitting on the roof together, fingers entwined, the silence of nature cushioning the two of your from the outside world. It was a ritual, something that Xiao had come to rely on, had come to almost sanctify. Yet here he was, sitting on one of the thicker branches of the trees that dotted the outside of the Inn, trying desperately to quench the anger that bloomed in his chest as he watched you and the guest talk the minutes away.

Perhaps the worst part was that you didn’t seem to mind. Instead of pulling the conversation towards a close, you seemed perfectly content to keep talking, smiling brightly and quickly answering the questions of this uninvited guest. Normally Xiao didn’t care about , or rather didn’t keep track of, the people you spoke to. Of course you would have friends, would have people that mattered to you. Just because Xiao had disconnected himself from humanity didn’t mean that you had to. So why was he so angry?

His patience ran out when the guest reached for your hand. Sidling next to you as fast as he could Xiao peeled off his invisibility, enjoying the shock that registered across the uninvited guest’s face as he moved his hand back. Reaching to entwine his hand with yours Xiao shifted his gaze towards your face. Shock was painted into your expression, but there was also something else, a glimmer of happiness or of satisfaction. Somehow it unnerved Xiao, and he focused instead on the task at hand, whatever that task was.

“It’s getting late.”

“Oh, of course.” Turning back to the guest you smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but perhaps we’ll speak again some other time?”

“Gladly!” The man’s face lit up, before Xiao’s glaring left him scampering down the steps.

“Xiao, is something wrong?” The question was so genuine, without any sense of knowing more than you let. Unfortunately the question was also unanswerable.

“It’s late. We should go.” Xiao gestured towards the roof, hoping the reminder would flush the question out of your head.

“You’re right, I suppose it is getting late. And we wouldn’t want to waste such a wonderful evening.” You smiled. And yet somehow Xiao felt unplacated. He was happy, wasn’t he? So why, why did the question hang in the air, and why did the discontent remain?

The next day was a lazy one, as Xiao waited for you to be done with work. More than usual he missed you, and he wished that the hours would go faster, so he might be able to once more enjoy your presence, to banish the discontent that he still felt, evening after an hour spent wholly in your company.

Eventually the sun made its descent from the heavens, and Xiao pulled himself once more to the perch on the tree he’d taken the night before. Gazing down at the balcony he saw the familiar figure of the unwanted guest, and a stab of anger flashed through him. This was made all the worse by your entrance, and the fact you once more stopped to make time for this intruder.

The man was just as insufferable as before, full of jokes that Xiao didn’t understand and words that though praising of you felt somewhat hollow, almost insulting. You laughed along to these jokes, smiled at these odd compliments. And when the man asked if you might be willing to talk more over some sort of meal you merely smiled.

Xiao, however, found the whole ordeal unbearable. Why should this person be asking all these things, be prying you with words of intimacy and familiarity. Had he not arrived yesterday? Was he not an utter stranger? Confusion mixed with irritation in Xiao’s head, and he found it difficult to hold on to the stony reason he’d built up. What was going on? What was this terrible feeling of anger and want? He couldn’t understand human ways. Less could he understand why they should have any sort of effect on him.

Still he had to do something. Had to do anything. Swooping down once more Xiao began the same charade. This time, however, the man merely jumped, and for all his glaring Xiao couldn’t dislodge the guest from his place on the balcony.

“It’s late.”

“Ah it is. Are you hungry?” He asked, addressing you once more.

“I’m not at all, but Xiao’s right. It is late. If you haven’t eaten yet then perhaps you should. Smiley Yanxiao is quite strict about his rest.”

“Ah, then perhaps you’re right. Still, why not join me? You can tell me your name, and we can talk a little more about the things you do.”

“You don’t even know their name.” Xiao spat out the sentence, barely able to contain the odd sort of irritation that still spun around him. He asked you all those questions, said all those words of praise, all without knowing your name. It felt somehow dehumanizing, somehow… wrong.

“I would be glad to learn it.” The man smiled.

Xiao simply shook his head. He needed to leave. It was becoming too much again, and the last thing Xiao wanted was for a stranger to see him this way, see him unsure and confused and not a little frightened of these alien emotions. Glaring at the man one more time Xiao scooped you up. Ignoring the surprised shriek that you let out he shot up into the sky, moving towards the familiar sanctuary of Jueyen Karst, deeply grateful that the guest, whatever he could do, could never fly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” You asked, barely giving Xiao the time to set you down onto one of Liyue’s sloping peaks before asking him the one question he couldn’t answer.

“Nothing.”

“Well it’s certainly not nothing. You’re being awfully rude to that guest, and I can’t understand why. Usually you don’t really care about those sorts of things. So something must be wrong, and I want to know what it is.”

A pause.

“Please.”

“I can’t.” It was all Xiao could say, the only thing that would truly encompass the truth, because in truth he couldn’t. He himself didn’t understand it.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“My chest hurts.”

“What?” Immediately your face shifted into one of worry, and you placed a soft hand over Xiao’s heart. Somehow the gesture was calming, and Xiao closed his eyes, enjoying the receding of the hot bands that had just been restricting him.

“My chest hurt when I saw you with that, that guest. My chest hurt and I felt angry. That’s what’s wrong. My chest hurt, but now it doesn’t; and I don’t understand it.”

There was a pause, and Xiao studied the expressions on your face, watched as they shifted from worry to confusion to caution.

“Xiao, is it possible you were jealous?”

“No.” The idea was somehow insulting.

“It’s alright to be jealous Xiao. It just means you care about someone very much. You don’t have to just dismiss it like that. I want to make sure that you’re alright, so please be honest. Is it possible you were jealous?”

Xiao let another gap form in the conversation, trying to figure out how to answer. The suggestion felt demeaning, felt as if he somehow had no control over himself, no trust of you. And yet it somehow made sense, and even as he shook his head he found himself letting out a different answer.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s okay if you don’t. I know that new emotions can be frightening, can be difficult to deal with. But Xiao, I’ll always love you. It doesn’t matter who else I meet or what else happens in my life. I love you the way that a bird loves the sky. You��re a part of my life I could never lose. So even if this isn’t jealousy, even if I’m wrong, I still want to let you know. I love you.”

Xiao sighed, a smile finally gracing his lips, the pain in his chest finally melting away. What did he ever do to deserve such a person as you, he would never know. He wished he could repeat those words back to you word for word, wished that he could explain that his love for you was all encompassing, had seeped through the cracks of his existence and his life. He wished he could form together the words necessary to convey his love for you. Even if it was impossible he still wished it.

So instead he leaned over towards you. Letting out a gentle sigh he brought his lips to yours, reveling in the soft sensation of your mouth against his, reveling in the way you leaned against him, bringing you arm up to his neck, letting out a soft breath of contentment as the two of you disconnected.

You didn’t ask him anything else, and for the rest of the evening you two sat on the grass, watching the fireflies dance around you as you leaned against one another.

Perhaps Xiao didn’t yet understand the extent to which he loved you, the emotions that had now risen up, given life by the love you’d poured into the adeptus. Perhaps he didn’t understand this yet, but he knew that all would be well. For with you all that irritation seemed so far away, as if it belonged to a Xiao of yesterday. Because here and now you two were together, breathing in the same mutual contentment, the same mutual trust, the same mutual love. And that present was more important than any jealousy could be.

Zhongli

Looking back on the matter Zhongli admitted that maybe pretending the problem didn’t exist was probably not the best solution.

It was only that you two had seemed so oddly content in talking, so, compatible, that Zhongli couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discontent, a tension that spread through his jaw and down to his stomach. He didn’t quite understand the nature of the emotion that now spread over him, but he did understand that it was connected to the bond that was now forming between you and the vendor in front of you.

“Dearest one.” He spoke softly, walking over to where you now stood.

“Oh, Zhongli!” Your face lit up as usual, and the ex-archon felt a piece of him uncoil. At least some things seemed to be unchanging, just as wonderful today as they had been the day before.

“I’ve been looking for you. I know you spoke of wanting to learn more about the nature of Cor Lapis, and the tea shop has been offering a new brew. Perhaps we could share a drink?”

“Oh that sounds lovely!” Turning around towards the vendor you smiled gently. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to try that lovely soup you were speaking of some other time.”

“Not at all!” The vendor’s smile was good natured, and Zhongli didn’t understand why he nevertheless felt a twinge of uncertainty. “I look forward to it. I hope you two have a nice day, and we’ll talk about it more later.”

Though the stall receded into the distance as the two of you turned the corner, Zhongli couldn’t help but let the moment run through his mind once more, finding it as sore to think about as a bruise might be to the touch.

“That vendor? Oh they’re new on the scene.” You smiled, taking a sip of tea.

The tea house was as calming as ever, the noises of the outside a distant song, and the hushed whispers inside adding to the intimate atmosphere. Zhongli normally loved to sit here, drinking cup after cup of tea, watching as the people came and went about their business, immersed in a small fragment of Liyue life. Now, however, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about the vendor. If he closed his eyes he could still remember their face, and the way yours was lit up while they were talking to you.

“Their name is Eli.” You continued on, oblivious to the way Zhongli’s hand tightened around his teacup. “They said that they set up shop maybe… two weeks ago? It hasn’t been a very long time, and they’re still struggling a bit. I hope that they’ll be able to get their business off the ground, who knew that street food was such a cutthroat world.”

“The city of Liyue is full of people who might make their way in the world, doing whatever they can. Perhaps it is unsurprising that competition is second nature to Liyue’s citizens.” Zhongli replied, hoping his tone wasn’t too curt. If it was you didn’t seem to mind, nodding softly in agreement.

“Speaking of Liyue and stories, perhaps you would like to tell me the story you were going to tell? I very much doubt that Cor Lapis is the blood of Morax.”

“How humans love to spin their stories.” Zhongli chuckled.

But even as he began to speak of jewels and pressure and the minerals that lay deep beneath the earth a bit of him was still preoccupied by the vendor’s easy words and your smiling face.

The next time he ran into you with the vendor the pit in his stomach had only gotten heavier. Standing a little ways away he let the conversation between the two of you flow in and out his ear, frown slipping deeper the more he heard.

“I cannot believe that your stall nearly caught fire on your first day! How unlucky.”

“Even worse that I didn’t know who to try and tell about it. If I had known you were part of the Guild then I would’ve asked you.”

“Well next time there are troubles you can just send a message to the Adventurer’s Guild. We can’t have our citizens being injured on our watch.”

“You sound like true heroes. I wish I could do the sorts of things you did. Your commissions sound fascinating! I would love to see how you go about your day some time.”

“Really it’s nothing, most days it’s quite boring really, just like any other job. Still, it’s nice to know that people have an interest in what we do.”

“Oh certainly! I find what you do very interest– ”

“My dearest one!” Zhongli called out, unable to continue listening to the conversation, feeling somewhat guilty and certainly upset. You turned slightly, smile brightening as you saw your partner.

“Zhongli! So sorry that I didn’t meet you outside your office, I must’ve lost track of the time. Eli here was telling me all about their first days at work.”

“I’m sorry that I got out late. I hope that you did not have to wait awhile.”

“Oh not at all Zhongli, like I said I’ve just been standing here. You don’t need to feel bad at all!”

“I’m glad. Perhaps now we can go?”

Zhongli attempted to smile, but it felt a lot more like a grimace. You stared at him, face the picture of confusion. Taking a step forward you glanced one more time at Eli, shrugging apologetically. Before any more words could be passed between the two of you Zhongli grabbed onto your hand. Walking quite quickly he didn’t let go until the two of you were at your apartment and he could finally breathe again.

“Zhongli, what’s the matter with you?” You asked, closing the apartment door behind you. Walking back towards Zhongli, who stood there silently, you let your hands rest lightly on his shoulders. “You can tell me you know, I can tell you’re unhappy.”

“I have a confession.” Zhongli started, feeling somehow compelled to reveal his thoughts, as if keeping them locked away would only be dangerous.

“Yes?”

“I, I did not like the way that the vendor spoke to you.”

“Eli? But they were perfectly nice.”

“I do not mean that they were rude. They were perfectly cordial. I mean, when the two of you were speaking, I, I felt uncomfortable. It was as if there was a barrier between us in that moment. I, I did not like it.”

“Oh Zhongli.” You breathed out, an indulgent smile on your face.

Reaching up you planted fleeting kisses on the archon’s face, peppering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, touch featherlight. It was a familiar gesture, one of comfort, one used in darker nights, when shadows dotted the periphery of Zhongli’s vision.

“Zhongli, I assume you know what jealousy is?”

“I know the term and what it means. I admit I am not personally familiar with the concept.”

“Well I am, so let me tell you. What you experienced, that was jealousy, plain and simple. I know it’s very uncomfortable. Jealousy can be such a messy feeling, it sticks everywhere. But it’s also normal. So you don’t need to worry. I promise that nothing will happen, and I promise that these feelings would go away. I also promise that I love you very much, so even if you feel these emotions, you don’t have to worry.”

“How could I ever worry about you?” Zhongli murmured, wrapping his arms around you, basking in your proximity.

The apology only came in the evening, after words and kisses and love had hung long enough in the air to dull the feelings that Zhongli had been carrying around. Now he lay there next to you, chin resting gently on your head, suddenly realizing that he’d most likely acted quite rudely.

“I’m sorry I ignored Eli.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand.” You murmured. “Though I’m not actually sure what got you riled up about them.”

“You are also a bit oblivious dearest one,” Zhongli let out a soft laugh, “it seems they were quite taken with you.”

“Were they?” You asked, tone betraying your surprise. You paused for a moment, as if trying to replay your interactions. “I never noticed. To be honest, I don’t think I could ever notice, not when I have you.”

“Thank you.” Zhongli whispered, oddly overcome by the confession.

As he lay awake, carding gentle fingers through your hair and listening to the even breaths of your sleeping form he pondered just how lucky he was. Precious gems might come from pressure and earth and chance. But you were more precious than all of them. And he’d never forget that.

#genshin impact fanfiction #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #albedo #diluc #xiao #zhongli #scenarios #requested #my writing

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gotnofucks · 3 years

Text

Lover’s Quarrel

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, violence, killings and murders (but reader cannot die, it’s weird. She has some sorta powers that help her revive when she’s been murdered), language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Is this crack fic? Idk. Maybe?

The sixth time Steve killed you, you decided he needed to be dealt with in a similar way. It doesn’t matter that he cannot come back from the dead like you. He just needed to go. You were tired of him offing you every time he felt threatened by your existence. But this was the last straw. He had pushed you off the Quinjet while flying home from a mission and you’d fallen into the lake and drowned. You would NOT recommend dying that way.

Bucky had dragged out your dead body and watched over you as the blessing of the necromancer worked its magic over you and brought you back to the world of the living. The first words out of your mouth as you spewed out water were, “I am going to kill your best friend and you can’t be mad at me for that.”

Bucky, far too happy to have you back – poor guy still mourned every time you died – ignored your comment and pulled you into a hug. He’d never quiet gotten used to seeing you die. You patted his back, muttering a few there-there’s until he was calm enough to press quivering kisses on your head and temple.

“You need to stop dying.” He said into your hair, holding you close.

“I would not be dying if your best friend didn’t murder me every time! He is a menace, Buck!” You cried in exasperation. The said best friend was watching you from a few yards away, and he rolled his eyes as your words reached him. He scoffed loud enough for you to hear and you sharply turned your head to glare at him.

“You!” You shouted, quickly standing up and marching over to him. “You rascal!” And then you pried out your wet shoe from your feet and threw it at his stunned face. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit his face but smacked against his chest, leaving the wet print of your soles against his far too tight t-shirt. He gaped at you open mouthed before baring his teeth in warning.

“Oh god, every time you come alive again, you’re even more awful than before!” Steve shouted, and then just because he is fucking drama queen, he threw out his hands. You sneered before turning to look at Bucky meaningfully, the most obvious ‘see what a dick he is’ look on your face.

Bucky shuffled uneasily, caught between your quarrel once again. He came behind you and gave you his jacket to wear to shield you from the cold. And just like that, your anger melted a little. Somehow, with his steel blue eyes, Bucky Barnes could sooth every wound you’d ever had. Even those given to you by Steve Rogers.

“I am so sorry. I should have seen what he was about to do. I wouldn’t have ever let you fall had I known.” He apologized and you swore your heart physically quivered. You pulled Bucky into a hug, hiding your face in his chest, savoring his arms coming around you to hold you tighter. You could have stayed in his embrace forever, but it was an annoyed groan that ripped you both apart.

“Is there any way you can stay dead a little longer?” Steve asked, breaking your moment. “I mean, I’ve tired a bullet and knife and water and poison. What can I do that you’d be gone for just a little longer?”

He was worked up, a red flush creeping on his face and neck. Pacing, he was muttering, and you wondered for the millionth time how Bucky could be friends with him. He was just so extra! You wanted to tell him to shove a stick up his ass, along with the one already there when he turned swiftly like the wind and threw a dagger at you. A metal hand caught it before it could hit you and you were pulled into the warmth of Bucky’s body quickly.

“Steve! Cut it out.” Bucky yelled, glaring at Steve. “You will not kill her again. I don’t care if she can come back alive again. You won’t hurt her.”

With that, he dropped the dagger on the ground and walked away with you. Unable to resist, you looked over you shoulder and flipped Steve off. Fucker could kill you a hundred times and yet he would not be able to do anything. As far as you were concerned, Bucky was as much your best friend as his. And if Steve Rogers couldn’t control his jealousy without trying to behead you every time he felt you were stealing Bucky from him, you would just have to make his death look like an accident.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that you can’t kill him either?” Bucky said teasingly, his eyes soft and fond. “I need you both to survive.”

You groaned, bumping your shoulder in his and snuggling into him as a cold breeze hit your wet clothes. He could read you like an open book.

“You are no fun Barnes.”

There was rubble and fires and shrieks. Natasha was yelling in Russian as she ran about with a fire extinguisher and Clint crawled out of his vents to help Bruce out who was turning a dangerous shade of green. Tony was sitting in the ruins of his kitchen, his mouth half open as he spied on the ensuing battle in the middle of it.

Sam was using his shield to push Steve away who was shouting curses that had probably not been invented yet. Bucky was holding you back by your middle, yelling in your ear to calm the fuck down but all you could think of to do was smacking Steve’s face with that chair that was currently on fire. You suppose once everyone was calm, you’d feel guilty about your part in destroying the Avengers kitchen but right now that wasn’t important.

What was important was that Steve had tried to kill you. Again. He had actually thrown a fucking grenade at you. You barely had the time to kick it away where it exploded in the kitchen and then Steve was on you, calling you a bitch in all the 9 languages he knew.

“Calm the hell down, Steve!” Sam yelled, struggling to keep Steve at bay from you. You were glad to see that Steve’s nose was busted. That will teach the bastard to ‘look down his nose’ on you now.

“She pierced my ears! The fucking bitch pierced my goddamn ears!” Steve yelled. Even you had to admit, the golden hoops looked amazing dangling from his ears. Just perfect.

“You are lucky I didn’t stick a knitting needle in your eye Rogers!” You sassily replied, “The only reason you’re still in one piece is because I promised my best friend that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

The muscles in Steve’s arms tensed and Sam groaned, barely keeping his own footing. A dark shadow seemed to have crawled over Steve’s face, turning the blues of his eyes an angry shade and had you been a weaker person, you would have trembled. This was the face of someone who had stood against armies alone and came out victorious. But for all you cared, he could kiss your ass.

“He is MY best friend. Mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Bucky Barnes is mine and I will kill you a thousand times until it sinks in your thick skull!” Steve growled. You scowled, a scathy remark bubbling on the tip of your tongue when you suddenly stopped. Why say when you can show? So, looking Steve directly in the eyes, you went limp in Bucky’s arms, turned around and cupped his face. And then you kissed his cheek.

Steve let out a strangled cry behind you, but you focused on Bucky who was blinking in disbelief at your audacity. And so, just for the heck of it, you kissed his other cheek. And then his forehead.

“Bucky Barnes, you are my best friend and always will be!” You said, hugging the life out of him. You heard Steve break away from Sam, heard Bucky yell out a curse and holding you protectively as his jealous pal came rushing to claim him. And all through that and the chaos that ensued later, you just smiled broadly.

Tony was giving a lecture, and he sucked. He gesticulated too much for your liking, and you really didn’t like how he kept emphasizing things by looking pointedly at you. It wasn’t even that much of a big deal, and even if it was, it was not your fault. Like every other time, the only person who could be held responsible was the blond super soldier sitting beside you, wearing the same shade of annoyance on his face as yours.

“I repeat” said Tony, his hair askew, “we do not use Friday to settle idiotic, absolutely ridiculous personal vendettas!”

“You have Friday tell you how pretty you look every day!” You countered and Tony slammed his hand on the table.

“Because I am!” He huffed. “You, on the other hand, stopped a mission in the middle to ask Friday who had a higher score! I mean, what the actual fuck? And what score?”

Steve had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. You however didn’t put up with any of that nonsense. It was his idea anyway, and you wouldn’t take the fall for him. Not when Tony looked murderous like this.

“Rogers bet me he’d take down more enemies than me. We only asked Friday to keep a count. I had literally nothing to do with it.”

Tony turned the ire of his glare at Steve who was too busy giving you a dirty look. He was just pissed you won, and that Bucky had spent the entire ride back tending to your wounds rather than Steve’s. It wasn’t your fault his jealous ass always threw a fit whenever he saw you and Bucky together.

“You said the team could use Friday as we saw fit.” Steve said, though he did look a little guilty. It wasn’t like him to lose command and control. Even when he’d been Captain America, he had never let anything rattle him. Not until you had come prancing in his life and stealing his best friend.

“I said the team could use Friday, not stop everything in the middle of a high risk mission to see who has a bigger dick.” Tony said, and then he just collapsed in his chair. Poor guy had been working too hard to carry the team forward, and in that moment, even you felt guilty. Your rivalry with Steve shouldn’t have to affect everyone else, not when they had been so welcoming and loving to you ever since you joined.

You walked over to Tony and dropped a kiss on his head, caressing his hair. “I am sorry Tones. You won’t have more trouble from me.”

Tony looked at you as if seeing an angel. He looked at you as if you were the solution to all his troubles. Despite every furniture of his you’d broken and set fire to, he was so grateful to have one sane voice between them. Cupping your hands, he looked imploringly at you and asked, “Really? You’re gonna stop fighting with Steve?”

At that, you solemnly nodded and patted his hand gently. Poor him and the poor team going through hell because you and Steve couldn’t settle your differences. It was obvious what had to be done.

“Of course I will” You said magnanimously, because of course you were the better of the two. “Steve just needs to find another best friend and there won’t be any reason to fight anymore.”

If any of them had been drinking water, they would have spit it out. Since they didn’t, they just kind of choked on their saliva and sputtered at you in absolute disbelief. Tony actually looked betrayed and Steve seemed to have licked a lemon, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“She” He said, voice thick with contempt, “needs to go away. We can launch her in outer space or somewhere from where she can never return. You know why? Because Bucky is my best friend. Since we were yay high!” And he raised his arms a foot off the ground to show just how high.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Rogers opened his mouth and any goodwill you had had went poof. So, you did the only reasonable thing any sane person would do right now and that was to flip him off and call him a pig. You knew he was inching to strangle you; you could see his fingers twitch. A part of you was anticipating it, for Bucky would never forgive him for killing you again. Just as he would have lunged at you, push Tony out of the way and did you away for good, Bucky burst into the room with the expression of a cantankerous 100 year old grandpa who had had enough with the world.

“For fucks sake! Just shut up you both!” He yelled and paced the room. His eyes were bloodshot and hair disheveled, a clear sign that your rivalry was taking a heavy toll on him. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Bucky raised a finger to shush him. “No no no! You listen to me you oblivious, utter moronic fucklets!”

Your mouth dropped open. Bucky never cursed at you. He had never called you a fucklet before.

“You two need to stop. You hear me? You need to STOP!” He raked a hand through his hair before kicking the ground in frustration. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep! I can’t fucking breathe without you both arguing over who is a better friend to me. So, here’s an idea. Instead of fucking me over in the middle of your sexual tension, why don’t you find a room and fuck each other? Because I tell you now, I cannot fucking take it!”

Silence sat pregnant in the room. You blinked at Bucky. Steve blinked at Bucky. Tony blinked at Bucky. And Bucky didn’t blink at all.

“That – uh – what?” You said, eloquent as ever. “That is so stupid.” And you laughed awkwardly.

Steve glanced at you and then stammered, “What? That – I haven’t – that has nothing to do with it. She and I – what?”

You both found each other’s eye, quickly looked away and just became silent. The tension in the air was suffocating you, and a terrible heat was settling in your stomach. Without another word, you walked out of the room, muttering about how ridiculous the whole idea was. The three men watched your exit, and a moment later, Steve left too, still very much in disbelief.

Tony and Bucky sighed, sitting across from each other and just taking in the fact that the elephant in the room had finally been address. A moment later, Tony began drumming on the desk, looking up at the ceiling.

“I couldn’t have put it any better myself.”

You felt antsy, as if staying one more moment in your room would drive you mad. You kept jerking your legs and arms, a weird restlessness in every action of yours. What the hell was Bucky saying? The sheer nerve to imply that you…you and Steve had some sort of feelings for each other. You hadn’t heard that kinda crap since you nursed your nephew who’d had diarrhea.

The only reason you and Steve fought was because you wanted Bucky. He was supposed to be your best friend, and clearly it was his inability to decide who he preferred more that had led you here. And to pretend, on top of that, that it was you who was at fault was just ridiculous. As if you’d touch Steve Rogers with a ten foot pole.

But…would you? You suppose he couldn’t be that bad to touch. He did have gorgeous eyes that got all dark and dilated when he fought with you. And his breath hitched when you got him mad and he bit his lip to stop from cursing you and he flushed a very becoming shade of red that started from his cheeks and disappeared down the neckline on his tight shirts that –

Holy fuck!

The realization rocked your world. What the hell? When you thought about it again, it seemed as if you’d just described Steve being aroused. Did you really fight him and got him mad to stimulate yourself? Oh god. Bucky was right. You wanted to fuck Steve.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. You quickly changed into your work out gear and rushed to the gym, intent on sweating out whatever feelings you might have for Steve. After all, nothing says fuck you like imagining someone’s face on a punching bag and just going to town on it. Thankfully, when you arrived the gym was empty.

You’d been working on your stretches for only a few minutes when your worst nightmare entered the gym. He probably had the same idea as you and froze the moment your eyes met. His blue eyes narrowed at you and you stood up straight. You hated Bucky for putting the thought in your head. Now all you could think of was tackling Steve to the ground and fucking him senseless. You still wanted to beat him, but in a very different way.

As Steve entered, his eyes fixed to your form, you decided it was time to leave. After that fiasco in front of Tony, you didn’t think yourself capable of talking to Steve. Staying alone with him was something you didn’t trust yourself with. So you picked up your bag and started for the door when his voice stopped you.

“Running away? Am I to believe that there is something that finally scares you?”

Anger, red hot anger simmered under your veins when you turned to face him again. He had a mocking smirk on his face that made you grit your teeth. His eyes, dark and challenging beckoned you to him, but they didn’t hold resentment there either. Something between you had changed today. The very air around you was different, thick with tension and apprehension that had your nerves tingling.

“Scared?” You scoffed, dropping your bag on the matted floor and walking until you stood right before him. He towered over you in height, but he’d never been able to actually look down at you. “Me, scared of you? You wish Rogers.”

One corner of his lips lifted up, and he put his hands on you. One hand hooked around your waist and pulled you closer, the other trailing a finger down the side of your face to your neck, following the path down your arm until his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Oh, I so do wish” He whispered and his lips met yours. You rose up on your toes, mashing your body against his and mapping the planes of his body with your palms. The smell of his sweat and soap surrounded you, your arms coming to hold him around the shoulders as he hitched you up so you could wrap your legs around him.

Like everything in your relationship, the kiss was explosive. You didn’t melt against each other like people do in books; you collided like two warring armies intent on conquering the other. You collided like night and day, basking your surroundings in the dawn and dusk of your lust. Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, smiling as you shamelessly moaned.

“What do you say?” He asked, pushing you against the wall, his hardness digging between the heated center of your legs.

You pulled him closer, letting your lips trail over his jaw and neck before you branded him with a quick bite. “You’ve always been so aggressive Steve, let’s see you let loose some other way. I sure do hope you fuck better than you fight though, or I’ll just be disappointed.”

Steve growled, kissing you again as he ground his cock against you, trapping you between the wall and his hard body that prevented any escape. Your hands slipped under his t-shirt, meeting the firm muscles on his abdomen that rippled under you. He pulled back just enough to allow you to remove your clothes, his own being flung sideways without any care.

Even before, you’d never thought of Steve as anything but beautiful, but now, seeing him in all his glory, you could only look him up and down in appreciation. He was trembling slightly, as if holding himself back with effort, his eyes not leaving you for a second. You both looked at each other, naked and unashamed before frantically coming together. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your ass and thighs as his lips pulled at your breast.

Your fingers rolled his nipples softly until he moaned, and then you pinched them. He jerked under your touch, kicking the back of your knees so you collapsed down, and he covered your body with his. Anger, arousal, lust and longing, all emotions built together in a storm of incoherent desire that had you both rolling over each other, fighting for dominance and power. Steve pinned you down with effort, holding your wrists in one hand over your head as he gave a smug smile to you.

“Will you finally surrender today?” He asked, positioning his cock at your entrance that was drenched. You would have loved to taste him, to have him taste you, but as of now, all you wanted was for him to slide inside you. You hungered for him, burnt for his touch. For years you’d been left wanting, and now with the prize so near, you weren’t about to wait any longer.

“The only surrender today will be yours.” You whispered sweetly before slamming your head against his. Steve jerked hard in surprise, allowing you the opportunity to free your hands and roll over him. You sat on his pelvis proudly, his throbbing member right underneath you and as he blinked at you, stunned, you rose up over his tip and slowly sunk down.

Steve groaned as your wet channel fell like velvet heat along his shaft. You had never been so full before. He stretched your limits, as he had always done, and you decided you very much preferred rendering him speechless like this under you than your usual punches and throws. His hands dug into your waist, helping you bounce on his cock and you threw your head back at the feeling.

It was a beautiful ache, one that took your breath away. As you rolled your hips and clenched down there, Steve’s voice rose in appreciation and you grinned. You finally had the golden boy at your mercy. You fucked him, changing your pace to punish him, never letting him up. For every time he killed you, you bit on his lips and neck, marking him. It was punishment and cherishing, a culmination of feelings you didn’t understand.

“Touch me.” You brokenly said, and his fingers found your nub. The slapping of skin, the sounds of debauchery and the smell of sin filled the air. You leaned over him to meet his lips, the heat in your gut bubbling until you snapped and came atop him, falling blissfully. It was one moment of weakness and the world titled, Steve having finally pushing you on your back.

“You’ve always been strong, because I’d hate to break you when the fun has only just begun.” He said and thrust into you hard and fast. He was an animal in heat, a man possessed, and you didn’t mind one bit. You met his every thrust with a raise of your hips, you clawed at his back until he bled, your lips tasting of the salt of sweat and tears and desire. He brought you impossibly closer, looking right into your eyes as he took you.

For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t get enough of his grunts and moans, of the breathy whispers of your name that slipped between curses, of the way his lashes would flutter over the dark blues that kept your eyes captive. He had you completely in that moment, mind and body; and for some reason, his gaze felt infinitely more intimate than his cock that was currently spearing you open. You keened in pleasure, whimpering as he touched your overly sensitive clit and had you coming again.

A minute later, he twitched inside you, his warmth flooding your core and you sighed. You laid entangled and sweaty, both of you spent and tired and yet completely overtaken by the urge to be closer still. To think this is what you’d both missed for all these years.

“So, what do you say, still feeling aggressive?” Steve asked and you looked at him with a grin that you couldn’t have suppressed had you wanted to. Oh yes, some battles were never meant to end, but they sure could be altered to meet new demands.

“With you? Always.” You replied, kissing him deep until he couldn’t think of anything but you. “Just remember one thing.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“I am still a better best friend to Bucky. I did fuck you to keep him happy after all.”

Steve frowned darkly and before you could blink, he was over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I think this time I’d fuck some manners into you.”

“I think this time you should actually put your back into it. I did all the work before.” You taunted and he dived at you.

Meanwhile, in Tony Stark’s office

“Friday, what’s the score?” He asked smugly, offering Bucky the packet of blueberries. Bucky was sitting with his feet on the desk, a small smile on his face.

“I am afraid I am not at a liberty to say Boss.” Friday replied. If the AI could blush, she would.

“Seems like they are at an impasse.” Tony suggested, and Bucky shrugged, licking his lips.

“Well, some things never change.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #crack fic #i think lol

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uuujeewriting · 3 years

Text

you can do it! [albedo, kaeya, childe, zhongli and diluc]

s/o has been going through a depressive episode and lacks motivation to finish their work and is getting anxiety because of it

tw: none, mentions of depression/anxiety, nothing too much. fluffy comfort <3

albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader, childe x gn!reader, zhongli x gn!reader, diluc x gn!reader

a/n: self indulgent bc i'm way behind school and in the middle of a depressive episode so motivation's been lacking ;-; hope you guys are having a good week tho!

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

albedo

oh? unmotivated you say.. self depricating thoughts? intrusive ones too?

albedo was never one to mope around when he was stuck on some problem he's yet to puzzle together, but seeing you exhausted, anxious and so... dull–he desperately wants to take all your worries away

he's a bit slow, failing to realize your depressive episode for a few days. as it prolongs, he notices how you seem to talk down to yourself and give up easily

sometimes, you don't even start work at all

this is due to your anxiety, he assumes as you think you're incapable of finishing or doing the work satisfactorily enough.

pulling you into an embrace from behind as you work on the projects you've been stuck on for the past few weeks, he gently whispers into your shoulder

"darling, have you been alright recently? are you in need of assistance?" he asks

he presses a loving kiss on your neck and you stifle a chuckle

"it's that apparent, no? i've been under the weather for quite a while now.."

as you explain your reasons and all your troubles to his end, he nods and hums ever so often

"you must be feeling drained, hm? well, frankly enough, i seem to need a break myself."

"eh? albedo where-!!”

he pulls you away from your working place and carries you to the couch, laying you down gently as he smiles at you

"aside from your unmotivated self, i reckon you need reassurance for those intrusive thoughts of yours."

and that, ladies, gentlemen and folks, is how you end up cuddling with albedo until the sun sets and you fall asleep

bask in the comfort of his words as he calls you his everything and more :')) <333

kaeya

my, oh my. what's gotten into his precious little love?

he's sharp, quite easily takes notice to your frantic and dim self.

he sees you sitting outside, head in your hands and sighs leaving your lips every now and then

unbeknownst to you, he creeps behind you and presses a careful peck on the nape of your neck, causing you to flinch and look back quickly

he was about to laugh at your cuteness, but as soon as he's reminded of your troubled state, he sits beside you and takes your face into his hands

sir we're in the plaza-

"oh archons, why is my sunshine so dim these days?" he pouts

rip u probably after this

"kaeya.. well, you see-"

and as you explain your current doubts and anxieties, he strokes your cheeks softly and looks into your eyes fondly

when you're finished, he nods and presses a light kiss on your forehead, a silent promise to accompany and help you on your endeavors to face your troubles

"i'll always be here for you, my love. if there's anything i can help you with, do not hesitate to come into my arms, hm?"

"noted, mr. suave"

jkjk o r a m i

he laughs and kisses you on the edge of your mouth

"what say you we head into the tavern for a bit? you could use some relaxation, right?"

as if you had a choice other than to say yes

childe

this man would know the second it started

having a bunch of siblings has its benefits huh

when he walks into your shared room and sees you on the edge, tears brimming your eyes he sits you down on your bed

"hey, hey.. i'm here, it's alright."

as you cry in his embrace, he rocks you gently, shushing you softly in an attempt to hinder your tears

"you can tell me if you're up for it, honey. i'm never too busy for you."

"i-it's just that-"

mhm. oh? why, how dare they treat you so harshly. really? why must you have to be burdened so heavily?

he acknowledges your struggles and worries with gentle strokes and brushing through your hair

"you have it really rough, don't you? ah well, nothing we can do but-"

"childe?"

he stands up and leaves the room for a second

he comes back with food, drinks, your favorite clothing of his, a scented candle you bought and some books you have yet to finish reading

the action warms your heart as you sniffle and smile at your lover

as soon as he lays down with you, prepare to never see daylight again as he won't let go for the longest, and i mean longest time ever

"i love you, y/n. you're strong and don't let anything, not even yourself, make you think otherwise."

zhongli

dearest, must life be so unfair to you? why you out of all people?

zhongli is wise–he knows something is bothering you when it does. that being said, he isn't sure whether or not he should approach you so directly

especially if it seems like a sensitive topic

instead, in your depressive state and anxious fiddling, he calls you over to him

he pulls you into his lap as he takes your face into his hand and kisses you tenderly

"my dear, has anything been bothering you? might i offer my hand in dealing with them?"

you'd think kaeya's mr. suave then this man pops up with his broke ass

"as a matter of fact.."

as you go on and state your dealings and troubles, he listens with an almost solemn look

he looks at you with utmost affection and concern when you finish

"the terrains of life have been steep and intimidating, you have been very commendable for braving through these, my dearest."

he places his lips onto your own and strokes the back of your head lovingly

for a reserved man, zhongli easily expresses his affection for you in multitudes of ways

his kisses being one of them

after parting your lips, he peppers your face with his kisses and you laugh quietly at his ministrations

"might i suggest a quick stroll to take your mind off things?"

you agree, thinking that once you head home, you'll be back to work with a clearer mind

little did you know mr. no money in his pockets got a liiiittle surprise for you as you won't be returning to your work any time soon :DDDD

by 'surprise' i mean he's taking you out to dinner

yall nasties

diluc

diluc is a busy man, dealing with a winery and all

along with his night profession (which he has only admitted to you and the traveling duo)

you did your best to hide your troubled self and aid him in his work, but you can only hold the facade for so long before it eats you up inside

when you break, he is slightly taken aback but is quick to comfort you

he sees you shaking and situates you on his couch as he sits beside you, rubbing your back as you curl into his figure

he's very warm

"sweetheart, would you mind telling me the problem?" he asks

he waits for an answer as you're still trying to find the words

"diluc, i'm sorry for bothering you.. i know you have plenty on your schedule and-”

"y/n, you're my top priority, no matter what. my work is nothing compared to what you mean to me."

and it's true, you're really his top priority

woohoo !! :DD

when you explain your anxieties and doubts to diluc, he's very understanding and listens to you earnestly

"-and that's why i've been so.. down, let's put it."

he strokes your face and presses his forehead to your own, looking you in the eye softly

he pulls you in tighter and closer, pressing kisses to your jawline and below your ear

"thank you for expressing your troubles with me, my love. i'm sorry for not noticing earlier."

"no need, love, you're very busy and i can't thank you enough for taking the time to understand me."

he pulls away for a second and shakes his head

"again, my work is nothing compared to you. i am willing to put aside all my responsibilities for a week in order to ensure your happiness."

uh wh a t

"ah," you laugh concerned, "sure–"

"which is what we're going to be doing this week." he smiles

welp. no turning back now

enjoy ur week with the redhead you utter s i m p

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katmoonz · 3 years

Text

My Little Masterpiece

Pairing: Artist!Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

CW: fluff, mention of reader feeling aroused, hints of sexual activity after this story but none included in the writing, pure fluff, use of pet names (if I’ve missed anything out feel free to let me know x)

Notes: this is different to what I usually write so it may be a little shorter than usual, I have an idea for another Artist!Sirius fic that I’m going to start writing in the next few days, (warning though, it’ll be pure smut)

“Grrrr” you hear, a paintbrush flies past your head. Sirius lets out an annoyed sigh and he starts to pace back and forth across your small apartment, his hands tugging on his hair in frustration.

You lower the book that you’re reading looking up at him from below your lashes. It wasn’t unusual for Sirius to end up frustrated at his work but it was rather odd for him to start throwing things. It takes another growl from your frustrated lover for you to put the book aside.

“Baby” you call from the couch, he doesn’t seem to hear you as he starts to rummage through his art supplies. you make your way over to him, standing behind him you put your hands on his shoulders, he jumps and turns to face you.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to get angry” he apologises, Sirius never likes to show anger around you as he wants to be your protector and not a feared figure, god knows he’s had enough of those for one lifetime.

Sirius wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest, he rubs your back gently.

You relax in his embrace, closing your eyes and letting out a relaxed sigh. You feel Sirius above you start to calm down, you reopen your eyes and look up at him. “Why were you so upset?” You ask.

Sirius pulls away from you, he wanders over to where his brush landed and picks it up, twirling it around his fingers he sits on the floor, his back against the couch. After a minute of silence he looks up at you, he pats the floor next to him signalling that you should sit next to him, you do so and lean against his shoulder.

Sirius lets out a sigh, he stops twirling the paintbrush and runs a hand over his face. “I’ve run out of canvases” he explains, “I could’ve sworn I had a spare but I can’t find it and it’s too late to go out to buy more”

There is a frown upon his face and you can’t help but feel sorry for him. Being as hyperactive and emotional as he is, he uses art as his outlet, if he doesn’t have that outlet it feels like his world is crashing down around him.

You try to think of a way to help him, he is right though it’s currently midnight and all of the art supply stores would have closed several hours ago.

As you desperately wrack your mind you think back to something he said a few days ago. You were coming out of the shower and hadn’t bothered wrapping a towel around yourself, Sirius being the sweetheart that he is had put down his sketchpad to pull your naked form into his lap, “mmm” he hummed into your neck, “you’re beautiful puppy, you’re a fucking masterpiece, I wish I could have you on display like this all the time”

Turning to look at Sirius’ lost face you make a decision, “I have an idea” you exclaim excitedly straddling his lap. He chuckles at your enthusiasm, “what baby?” he asks.

“You don’t need a canvas to paint on, you can just use me”

Surprised at your proposition he raises a brow, “Are you sure baby?”

You nod excitedly “please, I’m really bored and I hate to see you upset”

Cupping your face in his hands he places a gentle kiss on your lips “You’d have to lay on the floor love, I don’t think that paint on our bed is a good idea”

“That’s okay, I love watching you work so I don’t think it’d be that uncomfortable”

“Okay my little masterpiece” he pats your butt moving you off his lap before standing, he walks over to his paint before looking over his shoulder at you. “C’mon puppy strip”, you start to remove your clothes as Sirius gathers his supplies, he watches as you remove your panties and finally stand naked before him.

“Fuck” he whispers staring at your naked form, “would it be a cop-out to say that my painting is complete?” He asks

You giggle stepping forward and kissing him “I love you”

“I love you too pup, c’mon lie down for me” he points to a clear spot on the floor. You lay yourself down on the floor in your living room, Sirius stands over you with a palette in one hand and a brush in the other, he has a spare brush behind his ear. Biting his lip, he looks down at you before getting down to your level and straddling your waist.

His eyes scan your body for a second before he dips his brush into some paint and brings it down to your breast. The brush is cold and wet, you flinch at how unexpectedly cold the paint is, you quickly become used to it and you watch as his brush dips into the different colours. Your breath catches in your throat as the brush swirls over your nipples.

Instead of looking down at what he’s painting you watch his face. Sirius’ tongue is sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, he looks so calm and relaxed while running his paintbrush over the curves of your body. Out of your peripheral, you see flashes of blue.

The feeling of Sirius sitting on your waist pressing you down with his weight is very arousing, you feel your pussy start to dampen. Sirius’ curls are pinned up in a bun, a few strands have fallen out and they surround his face.

Sirius moves back, shifting so that he is now straddling your knees so that he can paint on your pelvis. Your pussy starts to throb slightly, you slightly move your thighs together to try and relieve the ache, he tuts “Don’t move puppy, we’re almost finished”

Sirius starts to bring the brush to your vulva, your breath starts to get heavy, staying still taking its toll on you as you want nothing more than to move his hand lower to play with your clit.

“Done”, Sirius leans back to admire his work, the soft glow of the overhead light is shining upon you as if you’re on a wall in an art gallery.

“Do you wanna see pup?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. You nod enthusiastically, “yes please”

“Okay, give me a minute, I need a picture of my angel looking like a complete masterpiece” he walks back to his desk to grab a camera, standing over you being careful not to catch his shadow in the shot he takes a few pictures of you”

After returning the camera to the desk he leaves to wash his hands, before returning to you to get you off the floor.

Sirius stands over you and reaches out a hand to one of your own, he helps you get up off the floor before turning you to face the bathroom. Standing behind you he places his hands over your eyes and tells you to walk.

“C’mon baby, just a few more steps, no peeking” he guides you into the bathroom to stand before the mirror.

“Are you ready?” He asks excitedly. Without waiting for a reply he starts counting down “3...2...1…” he removes his hands and watches your face in the mirror as you take in his work.

“So?”

You gasp as you take in the different shades of purple and blue that have been carefully blended into your skin, he’d painted the night sky with a couple of different constellations. “it’s so pretty” you say in awe.

“Not as pretty as you m’love” he replies still watching you in the mirror

You turn around to look into his eyes, “no seriously, it’s incredible if only you’d done it on an actual canvas so that it could be put on a wall”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that, my masterpiece on a wall” he looks down upon your still naked body. “Y’know we might not be able to display it but there’s still a way to get it on a wall”

“How?” You ask, wondering what plan he’d come up with

Sirius presses a gentle kiss on your lips, pulling back when you try to deepen it. Grabbing your waist he turns you around to look at the shower, he leans into your ear to whisper “we need to wash the paint off and you deserve a reward for being such a good girl”

Tags: @padf00ts-l0ver @divanca2006 @crystal-dee @pottahishotasf @heartbeats-wildly @sprucewoodlover

Taglist form

#sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #marauders imagines #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x fem!reader #marauders fluff #sirius black fanfic #sirius black #padfoot #artist!sirius

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch. 8

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

Summary: Fluff? Smut?? Stuff???

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It was still early morning, if the bright light and faint chirping coming from out the window were anything to go by. Cassandra had been awake for a while, her body not needing nearly as much sleep as humans did.

She looked down to where Nicole's face was pressed on top of her chest, cheek slightly squished against the skin. Sleep had turned her features into soft lines, unlike her usual nonchalant façade that she wore like a crown. Though the dark circles under closed eyes were still present and, Cassandra mused, probably a permanent facial feature at this point.

The brunette couldn't help the small smile that curved her lips. She couldn't remember the last time someone had been in Nicole's position, so willing to let themselves be embraced by the shadows of the castle and wear the title of her "lover" with such grace. She wasn't even sure someone had been there before.

Though as endearing as the sight was, Cassandra was starting to get bored. Nicole's position half on top of her meant she couldn't really move without waking her up. How much sleep do humans need again? Eight hours? She was pretty sure it'd been eight hours. Besides, what harm would it do to stay and cuddle for a while, not that anyone other than the small redhead in her arms would ever be allowed to know about her apparent love for such things.

She hesitated for a second, the memory of Nicole jolting awake not too long ago making its way to the forefront of her mind. She would have to be more careful than Bela had been, opting for the gentlest way she could muster, fingers gingerly trailing down her cheek.

Cassandra frowned when the redhead flinched slightly at the touch, but soon let out a content hum upon hearing her name whispered by the brunette. Nicole didn't even bother opening her eyes. Instead, she nuzzled into Cassandra's neck and tightened her grip around her waist ever so slightly.

"Mmornin'," she said as if she actually had any intention of getting up.

"Slept well?" The brunette asked, shifting to lay on her side and starting to play with the long auburn locks sprawled on the pillows.

The reply she got was little more than a hum as her half asleep lover shifted and readjusted her position. Nicole's hand started to gingerly trace her spine upwards, then down again, on her waist and then stilled for a moment. She finally opened her eyes and looked somewhere past the brunette locks blocking her view. The arm on Cassandra's waist was removed and stretched towards the nightstand for a few seconds only to fall back on the bed accompanied by a soft groan.

"Can you pass me my phone…" Curse you, short arms.

To her dismay, Cassandra started to laugh at her struggle, earning herself a sleepy glare. She did oblige though, turning slightly and picking up the small object from the nightstand. With the phone finally in hand, Nicole unlocked it and let out another groan at the hour.

"It's so fucking early."

"It's 8 a.m." Cassandra raised an eyebrow when the redhead simply tossed the small object on the bed, probably never to be found again given it's sheer size, and turned back in her arms with an almost childish whine.

Nicole really wasn't a woman of many words in the morning.

"Why'd you wake me up so early?"

"I was bored," Cassandra answered simply.

Of course.

After another small groan, Cassandra decided to change tactics. Her hand moved from red hair down Nicole's bare back. She felt her breath hitch when she got to her hip, slender fingers going in ever so soft circles over the skin and the fabric of her underwear.

That seemed to wake the redhead up at least slightly. Her lips started to lazily move across collarbones, leaving a trail of kisses and an occasional nip. Then up her neck, hand now tangled in dark hair and giving it a light tug to tilt Cassandra's head and get better access to the spot right under her ear. She left a light bite there and the brunette let out a small moan, hand now fully gripping Nicole's hip and pulling her closer.

Cassandra's thigh, now placed between her legs just right, was hard to ignore but Nicole was a woman on a mission. She shifted her weight, now fully straddling the brunette and continued her trail of kisses along her jaw until she finally reached soft lips. Cassandra moaned in their kiss when Nicole's fingers came to rest around her neck, giving it a faint squeeze. She slipped her tongue past slightly parted lips and her other hand started to slowly trail lower.

The sense of satisfaction she got from Cassandra's impatient whine was hard to describe. Revenge for getting woken up so early.

"Just touch me already," Cassandra broke their kiss momentarily, and the redhead decided to be at least a little lenient.

She shifted her hips, giving way for her hand to wander beyond black lacy underwear. One finger started to circle her already wet entrance ever so lightly, causing Cassandra to buck her hips impatiently.

"Nico- ah!"

Her complaint was cut short by two of Nicole's fingers entering her. Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, stifling a moan.

The rhythm of her fingers was slow at first, enough to elicit a few more groans from the brunete, but her pace steadily increased. It wasn't long before Cassandra was grabbing at the sheets, not trusting her claws on Nicole's back anymore, and trying to clench her thighs together.

Nicole kissed along her neck as she came, the pace of her fingers slowing until Cassandra relaxed under her. Then, she pulled her hand away and sat back down on the soft sheets, taking in the view of her lover trying to catch her breath. When golden eyes finally fluttered open and looked up at her, Nicole grinned.

"Thought you didn't need to breathe."

"Do not get cocky with me." To her credit, Cassandra tried to glare, but her eyes were soft and lips turned into a small smile.

Sweet revenge. Although, Nicole mused, if Cassandra woke her up this early again she'd make her beg.

"I think we should start getting ready."

They still had a few hours to spare, but being early never hurt anyone. Cassandra seemed to have other plans though, as she placed a hand around Nicole's throat and pushed her down into the pillows.

It was Cassandra's turn to straddle her hips, her much taller frame giving the impression that she was a predator ready to sink its teeth into a meal. Paired with the devilish glint in her eyes when she leaned down to whisper against Nicole's lips, it was all too hot.

"And not return the favor? Who do you take me for hmm?"

So much for revenge.

---

Arranging tools next to the autopsy table has always been oddly relaxing. Repetition and the soft clinking of metal against metal when the scalpels were placed in their place. The leather gloves as she slid them on her hands. The apron that was waiting to be put on. All a comforting routine.

With some time to spare, she went to stand behind Cassandra, who was scribbling something in one of the many notebooks she had around. Many, Nicole had learned, as opposed to just one that magically appeared everywhere. She looked over her shoulders to see what she was writing and frowned.

She had one of the textbooks from Nicole in front of her and seemed to be correcting old notes from god knows how many years ago. Notes in german.

"Do you… speak german?" Nicole inquired. She wasn't necessarily surprised but it was weird it had never come up.

The brunette only let out an mhm and finished scratching out something, replacing it with the information from the book. In english. "And french, italian, hungarian, and some russian. My russian's really rusty though, been a long time since it was in use around here."

Okay. Impressive. Nicole supposed that being immortal does come with benefits such as infinite time to learn different languages. Cassandra let out a chuckle at her surprised look.

Then she checked the hour and snapped the notebook shut. Showtime.

Clank

They both froze.

Their eyes darted to the door, left slightly ajar.

Clank

"You… heard that right?" Nicole's question was so low, it would've probably gone unheard if not for sensitive vampiric ears.

"Loud and clear. Stay here."

And she should have really. Cassandra was strong and could take care of herself. Whatever was making noise was probably a bored prisoner wanting to quicken their demise.

But the sinking feeling in her gut gave her no peace. Whether it was worry for Cassandra, the fear that crept up her spine at being left alone, or a mix of both was anyone's guess.

She grabbed one of the scalpels from the tray.

It gave her a false sense of security as she slipped through the door and down the dark corridor connecting the study to the cells.

One of the perks of being small? You can hide almost anywhere. And this was no exception. The shadows hid her well while she stepped for the first time past old cells. Some run down, some full of devices not unlike the ones in the room she had just exited.

She could hear a growl up ahead and came to the realization that it belonged to Cassandra. She was frustrated at something and Nicole wondered if being there was really a good idea. Most likely not. But she came all the way there, might as well see what got the brunette so upset.

She started walking towards the sound of heels against stone and was about to call out Cassandra's name when a shadow caught her eye. She froze.

From where she was, still enveloped by darkness, she saw something peeking around a corner at her lover, but it's back almost completely turned to her. Someone, she realized as she strained her eyes to take in more details. A man, no taller than Cassandra, ragged clothing and something shiny in hand.

Panic took over when she realized that shine came from the reflective barrel of a gun, half in position and ready to shoot. Shoot at Cassandra.

She sprung forward, stealth be damned with how loud her boots sounded against the stone underfoot. The sound alerted Cassandra, who turned in her direction wide eyed. It also alerted the man, who spinned on his heels and let out a choked scream that seemed to ring in her ears.

The sound died in his throat when the scalpel was plunged in his neck, through the trachea and whatever other veins and arteries the blade found in its path. He leaned back against the wall, disgusting gurgling sounds making their way past bloody lips.

"Nicole!" Cassandra was by her side in the span of a second. She wanted to turn to her but instead she stumbled forward, almost crashing into her arms.

Something was wrong.

Adrenaline was finally starting to leave her body and instead searing pain was making its way in her muscles. Her head was starting to spin but she managed to look down only to see a crimson stain on her abdomen. An ugly contrast with her white uniform, really.

Her ears were ringing, but she faintly registered Cassandra let a long string of curses spill past her lips.

Then she was picked up, the wound in her abdomen sending jolts of pain with every hasty movement. She couldn’t help crying out when Cassandra presumably reached the dungeon steps and started ascending.

Staying awake was becoming an increasingly hard task. No matter how much she tried to keep her eyes open, it resulted fruitless as black splotches were starting to obscure her vision.

She finally let her lids shut, her head slumping against Cassandra's shoulder as nothingness started to envelop her foggy mind.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #fanfic #double edged scalpel

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