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murdrdocs · 2 months

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do you believe in us?

description. from a young age, you and PAUL ATREIDES believe you belonged to the other, and foolishly thought you could one day marry. not even an unlikely marriage between your parents will diminish those beliefs.

includes. STEPCEST, SMUT MDNI 18+, fem!reader, oral (f receiving), childhood best friends to stepsiblings, instigator paul, appearances by lady jessica, duke leto, and duncan idaho, sparring, sneaking around

wc: 5.3k+

a/n: title from us by movement. artwork credit to revol404 on instagram. ao3 link

When you were younger, you saw Castle Caladan for what it wasn’t.

In nearly all of your memories, Castle Caladan was warm and bright. The sun shone into the large windows, illuminating the gray hallways and providing a comforting warmth that seduced your young mind into seeing Castle Caladan as one of the residences from the fairytales your mother would tell you. In these memories you were always running and smiling, often hand-in-hand with your best friend. Your first love.

Paul Atreides.

Castle Caladan was the home of the person you cared about most. Therefore, visits were vacations. They were scarce, becoming more rare the older you got, but that only made you treasure them more.

You and Paul would spend the entire day together, even going as far as to sneak out of your allocated bedrooms and tiptoe into the chambers of the other. In the morning, the maids would find two little bodies sharing a bed, hands reaching out to touch the other in the empty space between you both.

And as you grew, you traded running around the halls for playing each other in chess. Playing throughout the fields was traded for walking along the shoreline.

Sneaking into each other's bedroom only changed by the nature of intentions. You still ached to spend more time together, but the innocence of it was lost. In the solitude of the night, you would make up for the time lost during the day to Paul’s training as the heir, and your duties with your mother and Lady Jessica.

When your mother broke the news, she misled you.

“You will be permanently living with the Atreides family,” came her carefully chosen words. If she had not trained you, maybe it would’ve taken you longer to catch the implications. Maybe you would not have understood what circumstances had brought this upon your family until you were packing, or even until you were already en route to Caladan.

Instead, it’s then and there that you realize how your chances have been lowered to none.

Your mother had said your name, her tone as dry and disappointed as her eyes. “You will never be able to marry him. It is as I said.”

And that was that.

Your best friend becomes your step brother in the blink of an eye. Together, you made up the new and noble siblings of House Atreides.

Your mother and Paul's father were married, and you and Paul now shared a last name. It was an immovable fact, no matter how often you and Paul attempted to convince each other of the opposite in moments of intense desperation.

No matter how many times you tried to convince the other that marriage is a procedure that could be reversed should the need ever arise, you both knew that a reversal would be unlikely.

Duke Leto married your mother despite his clear love for Lady Jessica for security. If he could manage to commit such an act onto the one he loves, then there would be no undoing this.

Now, you see Castle Caladan for what it is.

As beautiful as it is dreary. As cold as it is large. As encompassing as it is comforting.

You sit at the breakfast table next to Paul and across from your mother. Lady Jessica sits at the end of the table, and Duke Leto, your stepfather, is absent.

There’s no small talk, just the silent scraping of utensils against expensive china and the occasional audible gulp of fluid down throats.

Every so often, you throw a curious glance Paul’s way, and the look he throws at you is in similar fashion. You both feel the stiffness in the air.

Paul raises his eyebrows. He nudges them towards your mother and then his mother, and does the same with his eyes for emphasis.

You slightly widen your eyes pointedly, your way of saying I know without having to say it. His lips pull up into a small smile and then you both turn back to face your plates.

The tense silence continues for a while. Your mother addresses Lady Jessica. Lady Jessica addresses Paul. Your mother addresses you and Paul.

And then your plates are cleaned and Paul is standing.

“May we be excused?”

It’s surprisingly a clear day outside, and you did not have to speak to Paul to know that he intended for both of you to enjoy the agreeable weather before Caladan was inevitably submerged in water once more later in the night.

“You may be excused,” Lady Jessica confirms.

You’re in the midst of rising from your seat and pushing the chair out from under you whenever you catch Lady Jessica’s eye. She does not say anything to you, but she does not need to.

Just the cold gaze of her blue eyes alone are enough to make you sink back into your seat. From behind you, Paul calls your name. If you were not locked in a trance, you would have looked at him, you would have found the soothing blue-green of his eyes instead of the petrifying chill of his mothers.

“I’ll see you later, Paul,” you tell him on your own volition, but you think that is what Lady Jessica wanted you to say anyway.

She waits until the dining room is cleared of anyone other than you two before she begins to communicate.

“You and my son…” Her words taper off and you are too busy focusing on the way her lips have only moved to take in another bite of her breakfast, and not to speak to you.

While you understand the ways of the Bene Gesserit, it never fails to amaze you.

“Ma’am?” You are playing dumb and both of you are aware.

Still, Lady Jessica elaborates, “You both have had feelings for the other since you were young.”

There is no room for denial so there is no reason for you to attempt it. You nod twice, casting your eyes down to your lap where your hands lay restlessly. You begin to pick at your nails as Lady Jessica continues.

“And are those feelings still present?”

Your answer comes entirely too quick.

“No!” Your voice echoes around the room and you cringe.

Lady Jessica lifts an eyebrow. She senses your dishonesty.

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. “Yes, ma’am. But we have not acted on them.”

When she communicates this time, it is with her voice.

“Good. You are a smart girl and your mother has raised you well. I’m sure you will make both of us proud.” She finishes off her food and sits straighter, wiping her mouth free of nonexistent residue with a white cloth. “Now I’m sure you have things to be getting to, right, dear?”

You have never been happier to leave somewhere. You say your goodbyes as graciously as possible and leave the dining room.

You’re in the training room exhausting yourself with slightly shaky jabs at the practice dummy whenever the door opens. There is a split second where you’re prepared to turn around and throw the next jab at the intruder, but then he speaks.

“If I were Gurney I would chastise you for fighting with your back to the door.”

You speak around your heavy breaths.

“Eyes in the back of my head, remember?”

Your reference is one that goes back to you and Paul’s young teenage years. A phrase you confidently proclaimed once you and Paul both had begun extensive training, learning combat that could protect yourselves and your—then separate—family names should the need ever arise. (To this day, Paul is more formidable in combat than you are, but back then you could confidently hold your own.)

Gurney had taken over training then, and he had allowed you and Paul to train together, solely because you were visiting during one of Paul’s less intense training sessions.

(You believed that Gurney always had a soft spot for you and the Atreides heir. Not nearly as obvious as the one held by Duncan Idaho, but its existence is present within the weathered man.)

When Gurney had chastised you for fighting with your back to the door, you quickly quipped with a claim that you had eyes in the back of your head. When Gurney tossed a rock at your back, not big enough to provide more than a bruise against your skin, you were able to block it without turning around.

Gurney was impressed. Paul was stunned. You attributed it to pure luck. Yet since then, it was never let go.

When you begin to notice Paul approaching you, you credit your awareness of his movement to knowing him more than you knew your surroundings. You weren’t the most skilled warrior. Your mother belongs to a notable house, which forced you to learn slightly more than the basic survival skills. Some chastised her for withholding you from Bene Gesserit training, or perhaps more in depth training that would harden both your body and your mind. As far as she cared, you could hold your own in a fight, and that is all you needed.

But you knew Paul. The ins and outs. Sometimes, late at night when you would allow the sickness of infatuation to fall upon you as you gazed at the stars, you liked to think that you and Paul were intertwined. You liked to convince yourself that your souls were intertwined and codependent.

It is hard to dispute that claim when you know based on intuition alone that Paul is right behind you.

(You can also feel his body heat and his presence behind you, but in your mind that is not nearly as romantic.)

You spin around to face Paul, your arms raised and body tensed with preparation to fight.

Paul eyes your posture, cocks his head to the side, and mirrors it.

It’s over quickly.

Paul has your dagger thrown to the side within the first three movements. He has your hands restricted in his grasp in the next two movements. With just one more movement, he has your cheek and chest pressed against the wall with your hands bound behind your back. For just a moment more, he stands a respectable distance away from you.

With the space between you both, the position could be passed off as friendly. The position could pass as the competitive nature it resembled.

Until Paul takes a step closer and flushes his crotch against your backside, making you well aware of the stiff form within his trousers.

For just a moment more, you let yourself revel in the feeling with your eyes closed, the rate of your breathing evening out now that you aren’t exerting yourself. You shimmy your hips just a bit, nestling Paul’s erection between your cheeks as best as you can with lack of movement and layers hindering your abilities.

But then the moment is gone. You push it away when you speak.

“Paul,” you intend for the syllables of his name to be a warning. At first, they come out as a pleading whine, so you clear your throat and try again.

“Paul.” This time, it is firm and demanding.

When Paul hums, it is against the shell of your ear. The proximity allows you to feel his voice instead of just hearing it, and you are instantly reminded of the times Paul had been on his knees between your legs and using the vibration that came from him to bring you pleasure you have not felt since.

“We really shouldn’t.” You’re trying to convince both him and yourself.

“Why shouldn’t we?”

The question should not have to be asked. It is a question that should not need to be answered, for you both know what is preventing you from having the other in ways from before.

You do not answer. Your forehead thuds against the wall, your warm breath rebounds against the wall and hits your lower face when you exhale.

Paul starts to gently rock his hips into yours. His free hand, the one not restricting your movement, presses flat against the cement structure.

When the pleasure increases, and your desire follows, you lift your head and let it lull to the side, resting the side of your skull against the toned muscles in Paul’s bicep. You start to give in.

Your lips part in a moan devoid of any sound as Paul asks you again.

“Tell me, my star. Why shouldn’t we?”

He lets go of your hands, instead using his own for a more important cause. His palm glides up the side of your shirt until he reaches your breast. You cannot feel the warmth of his touch through your layers, but just the pressure alone is enough to have you choking around your words.

“Because it’s not right, Paul,” you eventually tell him.

Paul tuts. The hand on the wall meets your waist, his fingertips pressing into the area as he uses his grip to pull you back against him.

“What d’you mean it’s not right?” He kisses the side of your neck and at this moment, you are considering letting him take you here and now. “It feels right, doesn’t it?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking.

You had not realized just how bad you missed Paul until now. Your mind has conjured up images of him in your sleep, perfect replicas of his face created from memories of your time spent together and imagining what could be if you just release your inhibitions. When Paul gently sinks his teeth into the skin along your shoulder, it dawns on you that with just a bit more time, your dreams could easily walk into the waking world.

Maybe you were just about to give in. Maybe Paul would have convinced you to let him finally have you.

Either way, the moment is lost whenever Paul steps away from you, taking away all of the contact points in one singular move.

You turn to face him with your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes already beginning to sting with rejection whenever the door opens.

You turn your head, both stunned and grateful to see Duncan Idaho walking through, his stride strong and purposeful until he notices you standing in front of Paul.

He takes a moment to cast his eyes between both of you. You watch his gaze flicker around the room, no doubt taking in as much information as he could, before he lands on you.

“Didn’t know you were joining us today, Eyes.” It is no surprise that Duncan pulls on the same story from before for your nickname. Just as you have yet to let the anecdote go, he has yet to let the nickname go.

“I’m not,” you tell him, attempting to subtly adjust your garments. It is clear that you were not as subtle as you could have been whenever Duncan eyes you up and down. You swear there is something akin to knowing on his face.

“I was just leaving.”

“Don’t leave on my accord. Paul could use more of a challenge, isn’t that right?” Duncan smiles teasingly and finally looks at your stepbrother. You do the same.

(You are surprised to see that Paul does not look as flustered as you anticipated him to. You hope you did not pull the short stick.)

“Oh … yes.” Paul turns to face you with a smile similar to Duncan’s on his lips. “Join us … little sis.” The term of endearment sounds foreign coming from him. That is not the only reason why it makes you cringe.

You understand that both of them are making a joke at your expense. There have been a few times where you foolishly joined Duncan and Paul during their sessions, only to get knocked on your ass by Paul and goaded into getting back up by Duncan. The cycle would continue until you could do nothing but lay in bed the next day, praying for a speedy recovery so you would not waste a day that could be spent in Paul's presence.

Now that you live here, that one issue would be taken care of. Still, you prefer to be able to comfortably move around without bruises and aches restricting your movement.

Although your mind is already made up, you cannot help but attempt to defend yourself.

“Who says I haven’t gotten better?”

Paul smirks. You both know that while you have improved, he has too. He will always be ahead of you. The compromising position you were in only a few minutes ago serves as proof.

“Have you?” Duncan asks.

Your reply comes in the form of dismissal, which you do as politely as you can, adding only slight annoyance to your tone that you could only display in the presence of Duncan and none of the other members of House Atreides.

“Enjoy yourselves. Paul, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Paul nods once and then you leave with the boisterous sound of Duncan’s laughter escorting you out.

Dinner is much like breakfast.

Duke Leto joins this time, which allows for much more conversation. But the stiff and tense air still permeates the dining room. It takes you half of your entree to decipher exactly where the energy is coming from, but it is so clear once it is revealed that you cannot help but beat yourself up over your previous confusion just a bit.

Different from earlier in the morning, your mother sits at the head of the table with Duke Leto on the other end. Lady Jessica has been casted off and forced to sit across from you and Paul. She appears uncomfortable in the seat, constantly readjusting herself between quick statements that clearly express her discontent at the new arrangement.

You would have focused more on the dramatics of your family dinner table if Paul were not toying with you beneath it.

You are incredibly thankful that he kept his hands to himself, but his feet are just as insistent. Just as restless.

They poke against yours constantly, not in an attempt to gather your attention as you would consistently send looks his way. Never were they returned. He would either be discussing his day with his father, talking to either of your mothers, or focused on the diminishing food on his plate.

There were a few occasions where you thought Paul’s actions were accidental. You would draw your foot back, but when his covered toes found yours once more, you knew it to be another one of his games. It was juvenile and childish, but you found yourself allowing it to happen.

You would take any form of Paul’s touch, so long as it did not compromise too much.

You repeat your philosophy in your mind over and over again like the sayings of the Bene Gesserit whenever Paul approaches you.

You stand in the center of your bedroom in your night clothes. Your curtains are still open, exposing the vast nothingness that the sea presents itself as since the sun has set. The stars twinkle above, and you had already prepared yourself for a night of tracing constellations before Paul entered.

He stands in front of you, dressed just as down as you are. His hair is still a little wet from bathing, and you briefly recount the many times you played with the curls until they began to dampen and eventually dry. Each time, his hair would look unkempt in the mornings, but Paul never cared. He claimed that his hair was just a reminder of the night he spent with you.

You would pretend to be unaffected by his sweet talking, only to flush at the memory of his words later in the day.

“Are you listening to me, my star?” His words pull you from your senseless daydreaming.

“What was that?”

Paul’s lips tug up in the corners as he dips his head for a moment. When he looks at you once more, he takes a step closer.

You knew why he was here in the first place, but the advance of his hand reaching for your waist still has your breath hitching.

“I was wondering if you would let me have a taste of you.”

He stares at you, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, you are losing yourself as you continue to look into his eyes, analyzing the way his long and dark eyelashes add depth to them for the millionth time.

Eventually, the raise of his eyebrows cue you.

“Paul,” you start with a soft tone, an attempt to keep it neutral. But Paul knows you just as well as you know him. Possibly even better.

He senses the impending rejection woven in just the syllables of his name.

He sighs. He pulls you closer by your hips. He rests his forehead against yours and presses his hands into your lower back.

He says your name. No, he breathes it. His breath hits your lips before you part them. With his next exhale, you inhale. The pattern continues until Paul prepares to speak, but you interrupt him.

“She knows.”

You do not have to specify exactly who you are talking about.

Paul sighs again, this time as if he is defeated.

“Of course she knows. My mother is all knowing, didn’t you know?” He speaks with faux amusement. He’s lighthearted, and the emotion is completely misplaced.

“We can’t go back to doing this, Paul.”

He begins to speak over you, but you continue.

“Paul, we can’t. No. No. It’s too dangerous. It’s too–”

“We can. Yes, we can, my star. Look at me–”

You do as told, removing the touch of your foreheads from the others to look at each other head on once more.

“What are you so afraid of?”

The question is so simple. The answer is, too. It is one you have run over in your head day in and day out since moving in just a few months ago. It is the same response you reminded yourself of whenever Paul would touch you, even if it were just an accidental graze of his knuckles against yours.

The difficulty comes with admittance.

But in the safe confines of your bedroom, with nothing but the moon, stars, and sea as a witness, you open your mouth.

“I’m afraid of losing you.”

Paul shakes his head gently, sending little water droplets flying.

“You will never lose me. You know that.”

“Yes, I will, Paul.”

“No. Why would you say that? We live together now. We’re bound together.”

It takes a moment to wring yourself out of Paul’s touch, and when you do, he keeps his hands suspended in the air without making any attempts to straighten his posture. He looks dejected.

You approach your window, staring off into the distance as you say, “Exactly. We are bound together in ways that will never reach marriage. We cannot get married.”

Paul’s footsteps are near silent as he approaches you.

“Does that mean you cannot be mine and I cannot be yours? What we have will always transcend marriage, my star.”

When you do not bother to respond, there is a resounding thud.

You look to your side to find Paul on his knees before you. You, the bastard daughter, have brought the heir of House Atreides to his knees. Like this, with the low lighting in your bedroom reflecting the highest points of his cheekbones and emphasizing the valleys along the plane of his face, it is easy to remind yourself that Paul Atreides is just as much of a bastard as you.

You two are in this together. Why should you not be together as well?

You are already planning to accept when he begs.

“Please? Just one taste and I will let you be if that is what you wish. You have my word.”

Typically, Paul is a man of his word. When you were kids and you accidentally knocked over a vase, a gift from another of the houses, Paul never told a soul just as he promised. When you had the tiniest crush on Duncan and let Paul in on the secret, he never told. He had given you his word both times.

It is this time when you first are made aware of Paul’s capacity for dishonesty.

Either way, you lift the skirt of your nightgown.

Paul fits between your legs without much difficulty at all. While it may have been a while since you allowed yourselves this delicacy, it is as easy as breathing to return to the routine.

Paul begins to lick and suck at your essence with appreciation derived from deprivation. His hands press into the fat of your backside, either to hold you steady or keep you flush against him. In any case, you are securely pressed against Paul’s mouth and he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

You feel similarly, throwing your leg over his shoulder and digging the heel of your foot into the defined muscles of his back. Your hand presses against the glass plane beside you when Paul puckers his lips and sucks along your clit.

The position calls for some maneuvering. You bend your standing leg, then grip Paul’s curls with your freehand, pulling him just a little closer to your center. His tongue has slid down to your hole and bringing him closer has bumped his nose against your clit. The bud catches the ridge of it, and you shamelessly run your hips side to side in an attempt to catch it again. Paul, noticing your efforts, does it for you.

He grabs your ass just a bit tighter, adjusting your robes with one hand before returning to his handfuls, and then he shakes his head just enough to provide the stimulation you were searching for. He dips his tongue into your entrance, brings it back out, and repeats the movement. Coupled with the alternating shake of his nose against your clit, and your recent abstinence, you are close sooner than you would have preferred.

You sacrifice your minute control over him when you free his hair from your hands, and instead imprison the linen fabric of your gown within your grasp. You pull your garb up, scrunching the fabric into your hand to get a look at Paul.

When his eyes are revealed, they are already casted up towards you. They crinkle at the corners as if he is smiling at you, and the shape you feel against your cunt is confirmation. When he peels away from you there is a visible erotic sheen across his lips.

“I forgot how good you taste.”

He speaks to you casually, in a fashion to the conversations of nonsensical small talk you had been subjected to earlier in the day.

For some reason, this makes your head spin.

You nudge your hips back in Paul’s direction and he does not have to be told to return to work.

There is so much slip and slide between your legs that you cannot tell what is your arousal and what is his saliva. The combination of fluids multiples whenever Paul slides a finger in your entrance, slinking it along your insides before he finds the spot. He pays extra attention to it, watching you as he slips another finger in to join it without much time in between.

You have not been aware of the volume of your moans until Paul begins to flick your clit with his tongue, after which a croaky sound slips past your lips and it is entirely too loud for the circumstances.

Your hand slaps over your mouth before you can stop it.

Paul shakes his head, removing his lips from you but not his fingers. He chastises you.

“Don’t do that to me, my star.”

That is all he has to say for you to remove your hand and continue to let the sounds that encourage him spill out.

(Luckily, your sleeping quarters exist further away from the other’s.)

It is only a few more moments before your lower abdomen tenses and an orgasm seizes control of your body without much warning in advance. You grip your robes for stability, press your fingers into the glass of the window, and keep Paul close with your leg wound around his shoulders.

He had no intention of leaving at all. He continues to lick at you, now incorporating a loud slurp that is seemingly intended to clean you up.

When the twitching of your muscles has ceased, both of your feet have rejoined the floor for only a minute before Paul has your legs wrapped around his waist.

He carries you off towards your bed.

“May I continue?” he asks as he lays you on your back at the foot of the furniture.

There is no hesitation when you tell him, “Please do.”

‎

You heard the hushed whispers echoing throughout the hall, spreading information that should have solely remained private to your personal quarters.

"They appear to be close. Too close," came from the voices of your maids, spoken with excitement as the thrill from sharing tales that did not concern them flooded their bodies. Like always, they were in small huddles, bodies curved into each other, their postings abandoned as they assumed that no Atreides would be wandering the halls at this house.

Except you were.

Your lightweight garbs noiselessly tap against your ankle with each careful step, freed from the extensive jewelry you were usually kept in throughout the day. As of late, your mother has been presenting you as a jewel in an attempt to delude the Houses into forgetting that you are a bastard. House Atreides wanted for you to be seen as the potential for great alliances.

Paul was presented the same.

Marriage became the topic of conversation more often, and you and Paul played the parts you needed to.

You played the parts necessary to continue this.

His door is cracked just enough for you to silently slip in.

“They were talking about us again.” The lack of romance within Paul’s greeting words do not matter as much when his hands wind around your hips.

Still, you can’t help but tease him just a bit. Your hands find his shoulders, palms easily gliding back until you can comfortably tug at his dark curls.

“Could you at least tell me you missed me before we dive into Castle gossip? What happened to romance, Paul?”

He smiles at you like he had been expecting you to say something along those lines. He leans in, pressing his lips to your cheeks and then your nose.

“Hello, my love. How I’ve missed you so. I have no idea how I lasted this long without you.” He is exaggerating. It has only been a couple of days since you and Paul last met into the hours of the night.

You scoff and gently slap his shoulders. You do not bother hiding the effect of his words on you.

“I heard the maids talking on my way down here.” You dive into repeating the words echoing around the concrete castle walls, but the way Paul looks at you is distracting you. His green eyes plainly flicker from your eyes to your lips, back and forth, back and forth, with a speed that says he does not want to be caught in the act. His lips, slightly chapped but no less appealing, are parted, allowing his tongue to briefly appear before disappearing back into his mouth.

You let your words taper off.

“You can kiss me, you know.”

He nods once. When he speaks, his voice is a gentle whisper. “I know. I just didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Luckily I’m done now.”

Paul kisses you with familiarity.

You knew that no matter what, you and Paul would be married off to others. But in your deluded mind, you figured that you might as well have fun while you could. You might as well pretend that Paul Atreides was yours, and you were his, until eventually that would be forced to change.

#celeste writes dune #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you #paul atreides smut #dune smut #dune fanfic #cw stepcest

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 19 days

Text

[Simon Riley, Will You Marry Me?]

F!Reader proposing to Simon, let’s see what happens :D !!

The breeze touches your cheek tenderly, bringing you a sliver of coolness, just what you need now to calm down your anxious yet excited mind.

Everything is just as you planned. A nice dinner with some wine, you suggest going for a short walk just like you two always did. You watch Simon walking beside you, left hand engulfing yours in his warm and calloused one and looking in front of him, so you tuck your hand in your pocket.

The little box is there, and you sigh in relief, the whole date tonight you’ve kept checking its presence while making sure Simon doesn’t notice.

You two stop by the lake you both love. The stars shine dazzling in the sky, with the moon accompanied their beauty.

Everything’s perfect. Now it’s the time.

“Simon.” You take a deep breath, and watch your lover turning his head to meet your gaze.

“yeah, luv?”

“I have something to tell you.” You let go of his hands, shifting your body so you’re face to face with him. You can see his eyes dancing across your face with curiosity inside, but he just stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

“Simon Riley, I might not be the most beautiful person among others, might not be the smartest person that can help you the most, but I’m the luckiest person, because I found you in the crowd.”

You clenching hard at your skirt, under Simon’s wide eyes, you continue your words.

“Just like I said, I may not be the smartest, but I’ll always be by your side, holding your hands when you’re unsure of yourself, hugging you when the world is cruel and you need warmth. You are the person I wish I could spend my whole life with you...”

With wobbly knees, you lift your skirt slightly to kneel, and you can hear people standing by and gasping, but all you can see is the man you love with your entire life, eyes sparkling with surprise and the love you have in yours too.

“Will you marry me, Simon Riley?”

The box you have been checking along the whole night is now placed directly in your palm, the diamond on the ring shines majestically just like the stars above you two.

“Of course.” You can sense the difference in Simon’s voice, his voice is shaking too, but the happiness and touch inside is undoubtful. “please stand up, love.”

You let out a sigh of relief, steady your legs and start to straighten your legs.

“ahh!” the sudden relief doesn’t stop your trembling legs, and your body waddled, causing you to stumble onto the ground.

“Lovie!” Simon drops to his knees, your knees hurt, but you don’t care about it when you watch the ring box roll out of your hands and drop into the lake.

“the ring!” Crying out, you stumble to your feet and run into the lake. You know the lake is shallow, you can still find it, you need to find it—

A splash comes in your ears. Through your watering eyes, you see Simon step into the lake with you. His left hand steading you while his right arm swirls inside the water.

“It’s okay, love, it’s here, I found it, don’t worry.”

Finally, the white box appears in Simon’s hand when he retrieves his arm from the lake. Fortunately, besides some dirt and grass, the ring lies safely inside the box.

You don’t have a single energy to speak, letting Simon lead you back to the ground, both of your clothes are damp, and you're still recovering from the fright, but Simon’s chuckles bring you back to reality.

You stupidly watch him burst into a low laugh, a smile blooms on his scarred yet gorgeous face.

“You really aren’t the smartest person.” He hugs you closely until you can hear his heartbeat, faster than usual due to the accident, yet soothing just like you always listen to when you snuggle with him on the bed.

“thank you for confirming, Simon.” You pout, but a grin spread on your lips too.

“but you’re the bravest person, and I’m the luckiest man.”

Raising your eyebrow, you lift your head with disbelief, which vanishes when you look into his eyes.

There’s affection. immovable. unquestionable.

“Let’s go home and take a shower, yeah?”

“Sounds amazing”

Simon reaches out his hand, and you take them into yours. They’re wet this time, but it doesn’t affect the heat radiating and sharing through the connected palms.

“But next time don’t jump into the lake immediately, it could be dangerous. ‘kay?”

“Okay. I'm a dork I admit.”

“yeah, a cute dork.” He squeezes your hands playfully. “My little dork.”

#cod imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader

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doodle-pops · 1 month

Text

A Lot Like Love

Erestor x reader

Request: Hello! i would like story with Erestor as first love story please ? In rivendell and the summertime vibes - @sofyawiththelves

Words: 800

Warnings: none

Synopsis: The love story of how you captured Erestor’s heart on a warm summer’s day.

Love was never an emotion Erestor claimed to have experienced, but understood the raw passionate chokehold it placed on people. The countless novels of love at first and love conquering all played out vividly before his eyes between others. He knew what it looked like, but never felt, touched or tasted it. To imagine the colours of love whenever it struck him, should ever he be blessed to live in the moment, was serendipitous.

Erestor found himself on a stroll, meandering through the market stalls filled with merchants and local shopkeepers, searching. For what? He didn't truly know, until...

He found himself in an unprecedented state of nervousness, an unsettling sensation akin to a whirlwind of butterflies taking flight within the depths of his stomach. What made this feeling particularly absurd was the fact that it struck him in broad daylight, amidst a bustling crowd of people.

Who were you and where had you manifested from? Why had it taken him this long to notice your presence?

No matter how hard he attempted to dismiss it, he couldn’t banish this overpowering emotion. It was as though you were an unstoppable and immovable force who had infiltrated his being, someone who seemed acutely aware of the impact you had on those around you. Your enigmatic figure casually meandered through the area, seemingly oblivious to his own statue-like presence.

A sly smile graced your lips, stretching into unrestrained laughter. It was evident that you found amusement in his starstruck demeanour, the sparkle in your eyes betraying your true intentions. This façade was deliberate, he was convinced; you couldn’t possibly be so naive as to overlook the repercussions of your actions.

You strolled about with an effortless elegance, your hair adorned with flowers like a personal halo, and a natural radiance that outshone the sun itself. The summer sun could not maintain its glow when you existed. It was impossible to outshine your very existence. And so, he silently cursed the heavens for placing such an angelic being on this accursed earth, forced to mingle with a motley crew of ruffians. The question that consumed his thoughts was why you had chosen to be here, among those who failed to recognize and adore them as you truly deserved.

Your garments flowed gracefully with each step, mirroring the fluidity of your body’s movements as you hopped from one vendor stall to another. Laughter erupted as you pointed out items and engagingly interacted with the vendors. For all the years he had dwelled in this city, he had been under an enchantment, unable to perceive such unfathomable beauty, magnificence, and perfection. Or perhaps it was his own eyes that had been shrouded by a veil, obscuring his view of this incredible allure.

Such magnificence should be treasured and adored, and put into poetry to be read thousands of times over and over again with cravings to capture the essence of how ethereal you are.

He yearned to reach out and grasp the aura that surrounded you, the presence that enveloped your being and bestowed upon them such mirth. He wished to immerse himself in it, letting it warm his soul and dispel the lingering coldness that had haunted him for years. You were his reason to smile, his reason to exist, his reason to truly live after years of mere existence. He was willing to allow your sunshine to penetrate his life and bring about the change he so desperately needed—for you, for himself.

With the noon sun still high in the sky and the streets relatively deserted, he saw an opportunity. No one seemed to care about his identity at that moment as he strode purposefully through the vendor stalls, making his way towards the person who had ignited this newfound hope within him.

With your focus locked onto a small, exquisitely beautiful hairpin, he sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his hair. Now was the moment, just like in the romance stories he read where the man would approach the woman and swoon her with something unforgettable. This was his moment to repeat all his years of fantasising.

Calling out to you, he watched as you turned to meet his gaze; his eyes capturing a mix of anxiety, courage, and hope. In that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Everything fell into perfect alignment, he spoke softly, capturing your attention that was the start of forever. “May I be acquainted with such a magnificent beauty?”

Masterlist

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moonmaiden1996 · 2 years

Text

Claiming his Queen Part 4

Masterlists

Maybe not my best chapter so far, but I LOVED writing it!

You wanted to shout as you raged against the prison you found yourself in, but the body remained unmoving.

At first, there was only darkness and a sense of bone-crushing loneliness. A sense of anxiety filled you, making it hard to breathe; you grew cold, shuddering in the nothingness, bile rising in your throat. There were voices, distant and faint like memories of something long ago forgotten. There were sounds of promises, laughter, love, and then the sounds of pain.

Then in a swirl of sand, grey eyes stared back at you in the reflection in the glass. That face, your face, was the very thing that plagued you for all these years. You were trapped behind the glass in the body of your tormentor.

You saw what he saw. Felt what he felt.

You had thought the pain in your body was bad, that dull, unrelenting ache that burnt through you but this was excruciating. It was like a blade pushing into your skin, dragging quickly up your arm, over your chest before harshly plunging into your heart, again and again, and again. You wanted to scream, wail against the pain, but you remained silent, staring out of the sphere and watching.

This void was only filled with pain: pain and Alex Burgess.

'She has been sent away; whatever you and she were planning will not work. Whatever you promised the stupid cow, whatever you gave her, I hope it was worth it for that small glimmer of freedom.' He spat before turning on his heels.

You watched powerlessly from behind the glass in the immovable body as the man you once thought of as an uncle threatened, begged and cried. Despite the thickness of the glass, you heard every word.

'What curse did you place on her?'

'I could give her to you; let her be your plaything.'

'What do you want? Answer me; you have been trapped for almost a century. Don't you want to speak?'

His visits were sporadic. Sometimes he wouldn’t even speak just sit in his wheelchair for hours, glaring at the being in the box. All you could do was stare back at those hating eyes.

You balanced on the edge of whatever this punishment was, but now you were floating, surveying the world beneath you. This place was dark and so cold. The smell of sulphur and decay lay dead in the air. As far as the eye could see everything was on fire; there were no flames, just the smouldering remains of a husk as the land bubbled and boiled away.

Beneath you lay a jagged rock carved by suffering and torment. Inside, a beautiful woman looked at the pale Morpheus, her eyes glossy in wonderment. For the moment, you were struck by her beauty, the smoothness of her skin and the shape of her face. A bitter filling chewed through your insides as you gazed at them. There was love in her eyes and hope as she reached out of thorn barbed windows, slim hands desperately trying to gasp at your soulmate—arms of completely perfect skin, with no scar, no burn, no mark.

'Do you not love me anymore?'

'No.' That voice was not the one she knew, it was cold, icy. Not the voice that you were familiar with, that warm rumble. ‘Your love was false; I now possess true pure love. I can no longer even see you.’

'Kai'ckul, please.'

Her cries continued long after Morpheus disappeared.

You had lost count of how many scenes you watched. The pain was too much, and it only worsened with every switch. You no longer had the strength to fight it; you were merely being dragged from one scene to the next.

'Sir, even with your belongings restored, this woman still weakens you; we know nothing about her; for all we know, this could be some trap.’ The voice came from a short woman with strange ears; she looked pained as she dropped a thick book to the desk of the room with a dull thud.

Morpheus was surrounded by books, eyes furiously scanning page after page. 'Lucienne, your concern is admirable, but if you ever speak of your future Queen with such disdain….' The threat was left hanging in the air.

'I apologise, My Lord; I am worried. This has never happened before.’

Your eyes shifted from the being face to the man whose eyes roamed the script, staring at the block of unintelligible scribbles. You can feel his rage and frustration surge through you.

'Is this all the books on soul bonds?'

'Yes, my lord, you have read everything. There is nothing left…..perhaps it is time to talk to your siblings….'

Weakly you watched the creature called Lucienne wince as she spoke.

‘No!…. I just need…I will visit her. It will sustain me till the Dreaming is repaired, and then I can bring my queen to me.’

You choked on a noiseless sob. Why was he showing you this? Why let you feel this pain? Soundless memories flowed through you. You pulled your arm towards you, cradling it to your chest, seeking whatever comfort you could from it. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you tried to push away that feeling of emptiness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The happy ping of the bell pulled you from whatever nightmare you had been placed in. The pain had ebbed away to the usual dull ached that pulsed slowly in your left arm. Your eyes flickered around the diner, frowning. There was a smell of bleach and burnt coffee, it was white and pristine, completely empty, save for a single waitress humming contently as she refilled the tomato ketchup bottles.

‘Even in the mundane, humans always find beauty.’ A chirpy voice cut through the hum. ‘I would have found a nicer dream to talk to you in, but Morpheus would find us too quickly as the Lord of Dreams. So we have to utilise the dying dreams of Muriel Gold; it should slow him down so we can have a proper girls’ talk.’ You stared at the woman as she reclined back in the plastic leather seats of the booth, taking you in with cool calculating eyes.

‘Where are my manners, little one? Forgive me; it has been a trying day. I am Death. Dream’s well, Morpheus’s big sister.’

‘Morpheus is your brother? Your Death, you don’t look like Death.’ You had always pictured death as a thing in black robes with a scythe.But this woman looked like the goth girls that used to hang out and smoke in front of your school.

‘You can thank Morpheus for that; I joked about his ruby once, and he manifests me in dreams as a robe-wearing skeleton. But that is my baby brother, always passionate about the things he loves, much like his apparent love for you.’ She laughed, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

‘You call kidnapping someone passionate!’

‘I called him passionate. Not smart.’ She narrowed her eyes at you, and you shrank back, there was something scary in her eyes.

‘He seems to think you are his soulmate. I think otherwise. I think you’re a cruel trick played by one of our siblings that will greatly hurt him. So I want to know if it is and if you have any part to play in this sick joke.’

‘I promise….all I did was make the stupid mistake of going into a basement. And I got branded by this mark.’ You pleaded thrusting your palm up towards her, the start of your mark just peaking above your sleeve top.

‘Hmmmm’ She looked pensively as she surveyed you. ‘Let me see your mark if you have nothing to hide.’

You hesitated for a second. It felt wrong to show her, far to… intimate for you to display to another. Even after all those years, you still remember the discomfort you felt after your parents made you endure skin graft after skin graft. That disgusting feeling of it being prodded and poked lingered inside you, you had hated your parents for subjecting you to that. Yet, slowly you place your arm on the table and turn back your sleeve till the whole mark is revealed.

Death stared at it hard, eyes roaming the brand; its angry red mark a harsh colour against your skin. You watched her carefully as flickers of emotion crossed her expressive face, never settling long enough to read. Her long finger swiftly rolled over your skin, causing you to flinch back.

‘Did I hurt you?’ her perfectly trimmed brow arched as she examined you fully.

‘No, it’s… sentative. It’s… uncomfortable when people touch it.’ You winced as you cover your arm again.

‘But when Morpheus touches it doesn’t hurt; it’s quite the opposite?’ she spoke as she leaned against the back of the booth.

You nod slowly, not trusting yourself to talk.

‘I have seen many soul bonds in my time, but never a brand like this. I guess I owe Desire an apology. It is true, how wonderful.’

‘Wonderful?’

The lights above began to flicker and shift above you.

Death exhaled a long tired sigh. ‘It seems that our time has been cut short little one. I thought it would take him more time to locate us in this place. Interesting. I believe my dear brother has managed to locate us through your mark. This is brilliant.’ She smiled brightly. This time it reached all the way up to her eyes, that now crinkled tightly in joy.

‘Wait….aren’t you going to kill me?’ Wasn’t that why she had brought you here?

‘I find that offensive. Just because I am Death doesn’t mean I kill people; I deliver them to the next destination. But no. I am not; even if I wanted to, I could not take your life.’ She rolled her eyes.

‘Because your brother loves me?’

‘That and I have no idea what you are.’ She smiled excitedly.

‘My parents are human. I am human.’ That made sense right?

‘I never said you weren’t. But now you are so much more.’ Death paused, sitting forward, taking your right hand in hers. ‘Look, little one, this is…hard I can’t even imagine understanding how you feel. All of this is so new…brilliant but scary. But you need to accept that no human can physically spend this long in the Dreaming without going mad. No human can hold the soulbond of an endless. Yet, here you are, and that is marvellous. My brother is far from perfect, but maybe with you, he can finally be complete.’

Was she actually serious? ‘Please don’t. He is insane. He threw me into a nightmare.’

‘My brother is possessive and lacking in the romance department, so he doesn’t take rejection well, when hurt, he hates violently. You saw that for yourself. Mother and father were not the best role models. He can be cruel sometimes, but he loves madly and passionately, and he will worship you if you let him.’

"You can’t leave me with him; your brother is a psycho!" Was it just you that thought it was not normal to throw people in tortuous nightmares or into eternal prisons because they got a little upset?

‘Soulmate or not, you will not talk about my brother like that.’ You flinched back and she sighs. ‘Little one, I do not want to scare you, but you must stop being so human and embrace the truth. Morpheus isn't the man he was before his imprisonment. I like you and want to help but cannot intervene in this matter as I did with Nada.’

‘What do I do?’ you sniffed.

‘I dunno. But he loves you, and that’s all that should matter….. Ahhh, Morpheus, I was starting to believe you would never arrive. I believe our time is up, little one; your beloved has come to take you home.’ She smiled as Morpheus lurched into view, all darkness and cheekbones.

Home. Such a strange thing to call it.

A shiver ran down your body as you heard an inhuman growl fill the room; even the dreaming woman filling bottles looked up. Your core was on fire, the mark aching wantingly.

‘Sister, you have no business in my realm.’ Morpheus gripped you tightly, pulling you up and away from Death and shielding you behind him.

This ache was not like before. This was different; your whole body was throbbing. Coldness seeped within you.‘Morpheus, can we go? Please. I feel strange.’ You leant into him; cheek pressed against his back, your forehead an icy slab against him.

‘You heard her brother, take her home.’ Despite not seeing her she could hear the anxious voice of Death.

With that, you disappeared.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I hope the wait was worth it! Please let me know in your comments below.

I know some of you will be upset with Morpheus, so please don't hate me. For me, Morpheus is very childish and passive-aggressive and needs to learn how to play nice and function as an actual partner. But it’s happening- slowly.

But now I have a serious question for you, which needs serious contemplation as it could change the very fabric of our existence. Does Morpheus talks dirty in bed? He is an absolute beast between the sheets(obviously), but I am stuck on how vocal he would be. I can see him grunting depraved nothings in your ears and being very primal, but I can also see him being quiet and focusing on you too. What are people thinking?

@daydreamin1220 @jesllianaquilesrolon @ultimatreality @musemaniac42 @duhitzdae @songbirdcannabe @wt-fxckk @quillycrow @lemontails-blog @zafirina12 @alastorhazbin @witchybitch @thegreatestsandwich @buckys-pillow @sunscreenfeverdream @lu123sworld @asianfrustration13 @leighs-posts @elraeeee @intothesoul @sparklinglilac @lustreader69 @thraetor @fate-huntress @itshamleth @beautifulsoulsublime @bookohocolicsstuff @aurorarevenclaw1927 @winxschester @gingermous @scarlettmoon98 @nushy @nanadesudesu

@sinisterandfun @the-whispering-mountain. @ellie-xOxo @xixxala @theraggedygirl11 @poemfreak306 @sugarstone1999 @depressooexxpressoo @lovesickollie @andy-rocks @reallystressedhoneybee @theoddballinyourcloset @zaflrina12 @dangerousdreamkitty @chadekelevra @wandas-soulmate @yor72 @sugarstone1999 @heartyhope @thecrazytealady @louslous @minetticatinwonderland @thecrazytealady @deafeningnightmarecrown @kiki13522 @fantasylover-92 @weirddominatrixpop

#morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #darkmorpheus #Morpheus #morpheus x y/n #the sandman #sandman #king of dreams #dream #dreams x reader #smutxdreams

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citrinesparkles · 1 year

Text

stormy weather

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 720 words. notes: a very abstract take on 'write a true story about you with characters instead of people', one of the prompts from the ever lovely @reaperintheroses drabble december! this was more 'write about feelings', but i tried. warnings: vague bad headspace on jason's part

he was in a mood.

you weren't sure what mood, but it wasn't good.

it was, however, familiar enough that you weren't surprised when he walked through the bedroom like a ghost.

all he took with him as he left it was a nail file.

you sat quietly, listening for the window.

there it was, about half a minute later: the sliding sound of the window in the frame was quiet but unmistakable, as was the sound of it sliding shut behind him.

fire escape brooding.

you sighed- that was a surefire sign that the mood had settled in completely. you had hoped, somewhat naïvely, that it would be a "wrong side of the bed" situation; had hoped he would be able to shake it off.

with the mood here to stay, you put your phone aside and slid out of bed.

it wasn't something to fix. not days like this. as much as you wished you could carry the weight of this for him, you settled instead for trying to share the load.

you took your time walking through the apartment, giving him his space for a little while as you boiled water and steeped tea for him.

you dug out his largest, warmest sweatshirt, tugging it on to brace against the cold you knew was wrapped around him both mentally and literally. then, with a glance at his silhouette in the window, you picked up his mug and approached.

he barely reacted to the sound of the window opening, only shifting slightly so his ear was towards you in silent acknowledgement.

"i made tea," you said softly, leaning on the sill. "interested?"

jason hesitated a moment, the only sounds the traffic below.

he shrugged, twirling the nail file between two fingers.

you reached over, gently pressing the mug into his free hand, watching as he pulled it to his chest with a hum.

"do you want space, or would you prefer i join you?"

"...you can." his voice was steady, but uncharacteristically quiet and lifeless. "not gonna be much company right now."

you slid out the window, closing it behind you, and he glanced up at you blankly. "you don't have to be," you said firmly, quietly, as you sat down beside him. "i'm just here."

the metal was freezing, even through your thick sweatpants. it would take more than a stretch of the imagination to call it comfortable, but you settled in like it was memory foam.

you sat in silence, listening to him breathe beside you and watching it fog in your peripheral.

you sat until your legs ached and your nose felt about ready to fall off from the cold. you sat for far longer than it took him to drain his mug. you sat long enough that the rush of lunch traffic came and went below you.

you sat watching gray clouds churn in the sky, offering the only comfort you could: he wasn't alone.

eventually, he inhaled deeply, and you felt something shift.

"you want a grilled cheese?" his voice was rough and quiet, but using it was a good sign.

you recognized the offer as the thank you that it was.

"yeah," you matched his volume, gently breaking your silence. "that sounds good."

it wasn't over, not by a long shot. you could feel it in the air around you, as though jason was a storm and the front was rolling in. it would be a few days, you suspected, of this- of disconnect, of that distant look in his eyes.

and that was the best case scenario.

he pushed himself up and off the ground, wincing when his bad ankle popped unpleasantly, and you changed your mind. he wasn't the storm. a storm in his own right, sure, strong and beautiful and immovable to all the world, but in this case he was standing on the coast and watching the storm turn the ocean angry.

he reached a hand down to help you up.

you took it, squeezing it once, twice, three times in quick succession as you hauled yourself to your feet. once there, you relaxed your grip.

he kept his, keeping your palm against his own. bracing himself against the wind.

you'd be damned if you let him board up the windows and sandbag the doorways on his own.

#citrine writes #drabbledecember #HA I DID ONE #kinda.#jason todd #for anyone interested in how this fits the prompt fhjdkfhsj i wanted to explore how i process my own bad spaces #and then it turned into me thinking about how helpful company is and how many times people have saved me from spirals just by being Around #the other part of this that was super personal was the storm analogy. storms scared me as a kid #but now they're comforting and remind me of home #there's beauty in the scary parts of life too. even when the storm is here there's beauty in life #especially if you can share it.#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #imagines #dc imagines #dc #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #gn reader

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strayheartless · 3 months

Text

I want to talk about Genesis when he’s angry with his friends. Not his performative flying off the handle but his actual anger.

I’m imagining the first time Angeal comes into contact with it is just before they sign up for SOLDIER. Maybe he tells Gen that he’s too sickly to be a SOLDIER. Maybe he doesn’t expect Gen to go silent (he doesn’t do that usually.) he expects yelling and throwing things and being generally Genesis about it.

He doesn’t expect Genesis to go stone faced and silent, to look Angeal dead in the eye and to keep looking him in the eye until Angeal can’t keep looking at him. He doesn’t expect Genesis to stand solid and immovable nor did he expect the swift, soft and extremely final “get out”.

Angeal has talked to his mother and to Sephiroth about how devastating Genesis’s rage can be.

Sephiroth doesn’t really pay it much mind. He thinks he’s seen all that Gens anger has to give. He thinks he’s seen Genesis “rage”.

But then they are eighteen and Gen and Angeal are on the cusp of becoming Firsts. They are training together all three and Sephiroth gets fustrated with Genesis’s form, his lack of adherence to direction and order. He ends up yelling that Genesis has no place as a first class soldier, that he is a disgrace to the rank of soldier.

Angeal stops moving and goes to look fearfully at Gen. he expects silence and unblinking anger, but there’s a woosh sound and as he finally looks over he sees Sephiroth’s head has snapped to the side and a deep cut trickles blood on his cheek bone.

Gen isn’t breathing heavy. Hes not yelling or getting in Sephs face. Angeal isn’t even sure Genesis has registered his own movement. But his eyes are fire. His posture is what it had been that day Angeal had questioned his ability too, but he’d never struck Angeal. Genesis never would strike Angeal, he knows that. Gen is many things but he’s not that…

Sephiroth puts his hand to his cheek and sees the blood, notices that the strike has sliced hair from his bangs. Seph is in shock, because in all the time they’ve been training Genesis has never gotten a hit on him like that. NOBODY has ever gotten a hit on him like that except Hojo, and that is only because it would be more then Sephs life was worth to fight the man back.

He starts shaking. Genesis stares at him in silent unrelenting rage and says “How weak I must be. To make a God bleed.” And then turns and leaves.

The first time Zack ever sees Genesis Rage, it isn’t directed at him. Its in Wutai and technically Zack wasn’t even part of Gens company; he was part of Angeals. Except Angeals been Cut down, and Sephiroth is further up the battlefield cutting a way through the lines of soldiers.

Genesis watches Angeal go down. He watches Zack knee slide towards the man and pack his wound as the Medic struggles to get to them.

Zack sees Genesis face Angeal’s would be executioner. He watches him cut down the man with brutal efficiency that would give post Nibelheim Sephiroth a run for his money. He tries to keep up with the swing of Rapier, but suddenly the battles over and Angeals been taken off his hands and Genesis is stood above a sea of bodies.

Zack sees Sephiroth come towards them. He sees him check on Angeal, watches his Mentor grab Sephs hand and pull him down to tell him something from the stretcher. He watches Sephiroth nod and move to Genesis, placing a hand on the man’s cheek to clean the blood that’s flecked there.

And there the two of them stand.

The demon of Wutai and his angel of death. Beautiful in their terribleness.

Zack thinks later, when Genesis has deserted that Shinra does not have a clue what they have unleashed.

Zack KNOWS after Nibelheim that it is only by the grace of Gaia that Genesis and Sephiroth did not choose to inflict their rage together.

Cloud knows upon seeing Genesis rage after the events of AC that it is only by the Grace of Genesis himself that they do not fall to his mercy. Sephiroth will always be the distroyer of worlds. But Genesis has true potential to be a vengful god.

#I don’t know what this is #thinking about Genesis and his rage #I think Genesis truely vengfully angry would rival sephiroth #and that it is only because Genesis was raised different that everyone else is safe #ffvii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #sephiroth #zack fair #crisis core #cloud strife #post ac genesis #post ac cloud

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sprout-fics · 10 months

Note

I beg thee for but another morsel of Vampire!Gaz

~🐸

(Music)

The dizzying, spinning light of the crystal chandelier glimmers far above you, glinting against your half lidded gaze. Your eyes try to focus on it, try to desperately find purchase against the constant sway of movement, the tripping, unbalanced axis upon which you perch. You have no choice but to go where you’re led, head lolling back to reveal the soft flesh of your neck where a dribble of red leaks down in the gauzy, white lace fabric of your gown.

The man, the monster who holds you delicately in his arms, leads you on an endless waltz, your bare feet barely skimming over the marble floor. The dimness of the ballroom is only illuminated by the candelabras with their wax dripping only polished bronze. The concerto you dance to is absent, filled only by the humming of your partner, with his arm balancing against your spine to keep you upright, a gloved hand winding his fingers with yours.

You can’t move.

You’ve long since stopped trying, realizing that it’s a futile effort, that whatever magic has been cast upon you will only lull you deeper into a pliant softness rendered only to him. Your limbs are far too heavy, sluggish with a velvety fever that muffles your senses in gossamer and the taste of merlot. Even if you somehow did manage to stand properly, to try and push him away Gaz would only chuckle, curl his palm against your cheek and whisper sinfully sweet words to gentle you once more.

“Oh lovely.” He purrs. “There’s no need to run. You’re safe here, here with me. I’ll never let anyone touch you, I promise.”

You wish you could escape, tear the lacy hem of your beautiful gown and sprint out of this castle he’s trapped you in like a perfect little doll. A pretty, delicate thing to be loved and cherished, doted upon with endless endearments and gentle touches. Yet…

A slurred moan forces its way past your lips as your head lolls forward when he spins you both, pivoting on a single polished heel, taking you with him wherever he forces you to go. The sound of his voice winds music through your dampened thoughts, your eyes fluttering as they once more try to see past the swimming glow of candlelight that dances through your vision alongside you.

“Pl…ease…” You try, tongue trying desperately to form the word, but Gaz only coos down at you wordlessly, a sympathetic, almost mocking little noise interrupting the concerto.

“No need for that, darling.” He speaks past blood stained lips, where wetness still oozes from the vein on your neck. “Just a few more songs, and then to bed. Just want to look at you a little longer, see how gorgeous you are in that dress.”

You whimper, a little overwhelmed, still confused and tired. Yet Gaz only whispers assurances to you between little hums of music, telling you how you’re safe, how he’ll treat you well, how pretty you look, how he’ll never ever let you go.

He lifts your arm high above you, forces you to balance on the tips of your toes as you spin, the skirt of your gown fluttering around you like an elegant, misty cloud of white. You can barely keep yourself upright, balanced by his superhuman strength alone, your other arm drooping limp to your side before he spins once more, his arm catching under the laced corset of your back. The world pirouettes on its axis, and you’re lost in the movement of it all, eyes fluttering as you find him dipping you towards the floor, your chin tilted up towards the ceiling to reveal the thrum of your pulse to his fanged smile.

“So beautiful.” He purrs once more, yellow flecked eyes sparking with obsession as he takes in the red stain growing on your blouse. You sigh when he licks a broad stripe from the lace upwards, collecting crimson on his tongue and moaning against your throat at the taste. “So sweet.”

“Let me go.” You plead silently once more, trying to summon the fear inside you for the nocturnal terror of this man, the creature of the night who has you in his immovable hold. “Please.”

Yet even as you beg there’s no struggle to your senses, merely a quiet acceptance into his arms, knowing that even if there is an escape, you’ll succumb instead to his whispered promises to you. He’ll keep you safe, will allow you the world if you so desired, and all you must offer in return is the taste of your flesh, the liquid red pulse of you against his rapturous tongue. You think perhaps this waltz will spiral downwards into hell- an intoxicating, macabre beautiful thing that you surrender to with a gasping little sigh as he feasts upon you once more.

#Gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #my writing #vampire gaz #drabbles #requests

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megamindsecretlair · 9 months

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It's a Little Warm, Part 5

Pairing: Bucky x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Cursing. Angry Sam, brief Trauma Bucky. Mild age gap. Reader is late 20s and Bucky is mid 30s. Dirty talk, PIV, and unprotected sex. Part 5 of 5! Final chapter baby!! Some sentences are intentional AAVE.

Summary: Sam Wilson is your play uncle and has invited you and Bucky to stay at a cabin with him, Sarah, and the kids. Sam caught you both and you have to navigate your loyalty to him and your growing feelings for Bucky.

Word Count: 2,385k

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | It's a Little Cold

A/N: Whew! Who'd have thunk it that this would evolve into 5 parts. I initially thought 6, but I think this is a good ending to this story. Thank you, thank you, thank you for supporting!! I was so nervous to start writing fanfic but ya'll were so supportive! I love ya'll and I love ya'll for all the comments and reblogs. They kept me going! Sorry if I missed any warnings. Likes are always awesome, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @softimgyu @blackreaderatrisk @braverthanthenewworld @multiversefanfics @monaeesstuff @blackpinup22 @chaos-4baby ILY

“Shit,” Bucky said as he fixed his pants and shielded you from Uncle Sam’s angry glare. He left the pantry and closed the door, allowing you space to fix yourself.

“I said hands off, man. You couldn’t even wait a day?” Uncle Sam asked.

“It’s not like that! That’s not how–”

“Save it. This is bullshit and you know it,” Uncle Sam said. You couldn’t see them, but you knew that they were staring at each other. You hurriedly smoothed down your dress and wiped your face for any trace amounts of drool.

You fixed your hair and then left the pantry to find Uncle Sam and Bucky facing each other. Uncle Sam had turned on the lights and you saw how intensely they were glaring at one another. It looked like some battle in a western. Both of them stood in wide stances as if they were about to quickly draw or start pummeling each other.

They communicated silently and you stepped in between. “Stop this,” you said.

“You’re no better than he is. This was supposed to be a fun and relaxing week for everybody. Not for you two to fondle each other in the fucking pantry.” Uncle Sam’s words and scathing look raked over you like hot coals. You felt small and dumb. His disappointment hurt worse than anything. Even worse than cutting off your parents because you knew that Uncle Sam cared about you.

But you weren’t a little girl. And what you and Bucky did was beautiful and heady. You refused to feel small about it.

“Don’t talk to her like that. If you have a problem, deal with me.” Bucky stepped closer and you placed your hands on his chest.

“I’m going to do a lot more than that.” Uncle Sam advanced on Bucky. You might as well have been a piece of paper. You could not stop two immovable forces so you moved out of the way. Uncle Sam pushed his shoulder into Bucky.

“Outside.” Uncle Sam walked to the front door and threw it open. Bucky sighed and moved to follow. You grabbed his hand. “This is dumb, don’t do this. He’s your best friend,” you said.

Bucky smiled bitterly and glanced at you. “What’s a few fists between best friends? It’s just how we let it out, we’ll be okay,” he said. He squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips. He placed a small kiss there and held it while looking into your eyes.

He followed Uncle Sam outside. Your gut twisted in knots. This was bullshit. But what hope did you have of stopping a super soldier and the dumbass who thinks he can take him? Because Bucky wasn’t going to fight back. You’d seen the resigned look in his eyes. You may not know everything about him, but you knew that he carried a lot of baggage with him.

Men. You huffed as you followed. Once you got outside, it was pitch black except for the porch light and the moon overhead. Two dark shapes were close to each other and they were arguing. You couldn’t pick out everything, but you’re pretty sure Uncle Sam pushed Bucky.

Bucky let him and stepped back. He yelled something and Uncle Sam pushed him again. You got closer. “Stop!”

“Stay out of this, Y/N,” Uncle Sam said. He was huffing from how mad he was. If this was a cartoon, steam would be coming out of his ears.

“This is bullshit! We’re both adults!”

“If you were adults, then you would know how to control yourselves. This isn’t a place for all of that. My nephews are here. What if one of them found you instead of me?” Uncle Sam asked.

“Don’t pretend this isn’t some fucked up honor system you got in your head. You think you need to protect me or something,” you yelled.

“I do need to protect you! I swore that I would always look out for you. No sooner did I introduce you to Bucky and here you are!”

“You make it sound like I preyed on her,” Bucky said. He sounded hurt. He stared at Uncle Sam with wide eyes and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Is that what you think of me?” Bucky asked.

Uncle Sam sighed and rubbed his face. “I know you’re a good man. But this is my niece we’re talking about,” Uncle Sam said.

“I’m not actually related to you, Sam,” you said. He gaped at you and stepped back as if you struck him. You took a deep breath and carefully looked at him. “We’re not blood related. I’m not actually your niece. Hell, I’m not even that much younger than you. But I have always looked up to you as an older brother. You were the brother I always wished for. You’re smart and kind and you’re fair. But you’re being a real dick right now.”

“ME?” Uncle Sam scoffed.

“You’re standing there and accusing Bucky of being a monster. That he lured me into the pantry to take advantage of me. The hell do you call that?”

Uncle Sam opened his mouth to say something back but then he caught the look on Bucky’s face. He was trying hard to be neutral and had a blank look in his eye. But Uncle Sam visibly lost all steam.

“You’re not a monster, man. I don’t think that,” Uncle Sam said.

Bucky nodded mechanically. “Don’t do that shit, Bucky. I was…I was mad that instead of enjoying this week, you two hit it off so well and ignored all my plans. It was selfish. I know you’re not a monster. You never were. You’re my best friend. You may be old, but we’re good,” he said. He placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

A little light entered Bucky’s eyes. He looked at Uncle Sam and smirked.

“I’m used to protecting everyone. I used to chase away Sarah’s boyfriends and did the same with Y/N when she was coming up. My natural instinct is that no one is good for them. But that’s not true. I know you are. I just hope you two understand what the hell you’re getting yourselves into.”

“We’re not stupid. I know you guys put yourselves in danger every day. This is new for us too. Let us sink or swim on our own. It won’t affect our love for you,” you said.

Uncle Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s okay to admit that you were jealous. You’re used to having Bucky to yourself, I understand it,” you said.

Uncle Sam chuckled and swiped at you. You dodged out of the way, closer to Bucky. He still stood stiffly but he watched you two with amusement. You bumped your shoulder with his. “Hey,” you said.

He smiled at you. “Go on, tell Sam you love him too.”

Bucky shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Alright, let’s not get carried away,” he said.

“Nope. We’re not leaving this spot until you reassure Sam that you love him and that we’ll go along with all of his little plans for the week. And he’ll promise to stay out of grown folks’ business,” you said.

The men stared at each other stubbornly. Pig-heads. You crossed your arms and glared at both of them.

“I love you, man. You’re my brother,” Uncle Sam said. He held out his arms.

Bucky sighed and grinned. “I love you, too, brother.” They hugged and you smiled at them.

“Just…be careful. I love both of you and I’m not picking sides.” Uncle Sam looked between you and Bucky.

Bucky grabbed your hand and looked at Sam. “Won’t be a need for it.”

Butterflies flipped in your stomach. You grinned at Bucky and he smirked at you.

“Whatever. Just…come find us when you’re done ogling each other. There are actual festivities to enjoy,” Uncle Sam said. He started to walk away and he waved in the air. “The sky is clear and shit. We need to enjoy it.”

You watched him until he disappeared through the front door. You moved to follow but Bucky held onto you and stopped you. You looked back at him.

“Thank you, doll,” he said softly. It seemed like there was more he wanted to get off of his chest. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he chuckled and looked down at your joined hands. His thumb rubbed your hand.

“Hey. I can’t explain it, but this feels right for me. You never have to thank me for defending you. I want you,” you said.

“I want you, too. But you’re wrong. I do think there’s some thanks I need to do,” he said.

You gave him a confused look because you didn’t know what he was on about. He smirked and checked the front door. Then, he tugged you further into the darkness. You followed behind, your stomach flipping for entirely different reasons.

“We got a little interrupted earlier. If you can be quiet, I’ll show you how thankful I am,” he said.

“Are you sure?” You asked. You wanted to make sure he was okay. He had looked so lost earlier. Not unlike the time you caught him in the kitchen by himself. He squeezed your hand.

“Definitely sure,” he said. He pulled you closer and moved your hand down to his crotch. He was hard and growing harder by the second.

“Oh,” you sighed. You were not expecting him to be turned on right now.

He pulled you away from the front porch light and past Uncle Sam’s car. In between the houses, there was nothing but darkness and open space. You saw three distant figures but couldn’t pick out anything specific.

Bucky pushed you against the wall. He leaned in with a devilish smirk. He crowded your space and blocked the limited light from the moon. You could only pick out general impressions of his face.

“I want to see that pretty face when you cum,” he said.

You sighed and bit your lip. Desire flooded through you. You gasped at the sharp coldness of his metal arm as he trailed his hands up your thighs and under your dress. He leaned down and kissed you. You cried softly at how wonderful and delicious his lips tasted.

His fingers continued to search and knead. You wrapped your hands around his shoulders and pulled him closer. He chuckled as he licked your bottom lip. You fidgeted as he finally reached your panties and pulled them down and off. He squatted low to the ground and kissed your legs and then your thighs.

You played with his soft, dark hair. You wished you could see his face and see his eyes. His lips dragged wet kisses up your thighs with his fingers following behind. Your pussy fluttered. You needed this man.

Your ragged breath was loud in the quiet night and Bucky finally showed mercy. He stood up and recaptured your lips with his, licking and nibbling. Using his metal hand, he lifted one of your legs until you were open for him.

“You are a treasure,” he said. He kissed along your jawline. He used his other hand to free himself of his jeans. He pushed his pants down far enough to gain some movement.

There was no talking now. There was no need for filthy words. There was just quiet desperation as he slid into your wet heat and you both groaned softly from the feeling of him. He filled you completely. Earlier, you were so needy that you didn’t catalog everything.

Now, you took in his quiet breaths. The smell of him. The glide of his cock inside you, slipping in and out with ease. The soft grunts as if being inside of you was the closest he ever got to heaven.

He buried his nose into your neck and continued to stroke deep within you. It was slow and methodical but no less desperate. You clung to him. He supported you as if you weighed as much as a feather.

You moaned and bit his shoulder to keep from crying out like you wanted to. You held on. You needed more. You needed him deeper, closer; if possible, you wanted to melt into him completely.

Pressure built low in your tummy as your orgasm crested the surface. “You’re perfect, doll. You’re perfect for me. I can never thank you enough, for everything,” he said against your skin. His lips tickled your neck and you leaned your head back against the wall.

He felt so damn good. “You’re perfect for me. Never let me go,” you said.

“Never, never,” he said. He sped up a bit. You clamped down on his dick and he groaned. “I know you’re close, doll. It’s okay, let it go,” he whispered in your ear.

On command, your orgasm rattled your bones from how hard you came. Bucky stroked you through it, whispering how pretty you were. He sounded like he was in awe. “So fucking pretty cumming for me. That’s my girl,” he said.

“Bucky…” you said. You held on as a second orgasm snuck up on you. You felt him smile against your neck. He leaned back to look at your face.

“So fuckin hot,” he said. He stroked a few more times before he grunted and spilled inside of you. He held you in place as he emptied every last stream. You felt him twitch inside of you as he held his head back and groaned.

Your ragged breaths mingled as you giggled. Trying to be quiet made the experience more intimate and magical. The moon and stars overhead, the perfect weather. Perfection didn’t exist, but perfect moments did. And perfect people.

You scratched idly at his hair as he finished. He kissed you again and you both laughed. “How is it possible that I just want to keep going?”

You laughed and kissed him. “Probably because we can’t. But when this week is over? It’s on.”

“Hmm. So what you’re saying is, I need to borrow Scott’s time machine,” he said.

You laughed and kissed his cheek. “What?”

“Nothing, doll.” You got the hint that he was smirking at you. But he kissed you again and your thoughts scattered.

Perfect.

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4

A/N: I really love ya'll. Seriously. All of your comments have just skyrocketed my confidence in my writing! Ya'll deserve all the forehead kisses.

There is now a follow up! If you enjoyed this series and miss these two, you can now read It's a Little Cold!

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Bucky Files #marvel smut #Bucky x Black!reader #Bucky x Black reader #Bucky x Fem!reader #Bucky x Fem reader #Bucky x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fan fic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes smut #bucky fanfic

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ibrithir-was-here · 8 months

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@windsweptinred Another AU Drabble! This time for the old Children of the Endless AU. I know you’ve a soft spot for Destiny so I hope you enjoy this Drabble featuring him!

——————

“Please I beg you!”

The woman who until now had stood so proud, so strong, throughout the tense encounter, now at last fell at Destiny's feet; hard gray eyes softened by the sheen of tears, red hair tumbling out before her like a war banner, fallen to the dirt in defeat.

"My lord, I know the truth of what you are, the truth of your kin, the sires of cursed and accursed Helen and Paris. Lord Apollo's doom upon me has granted this clarity. But your knowledge is greater than the cunning of the Achaens, your power more potent than that of the gods on Olympus. Surely, most surely you can grant this one boon, that at least one man might heed my warnings?"

Destiny's unseeing eyes stared out over the battlements whereon the pair stood, the light of the dawn was choked and gray, struggling through the smoke that rose up from the battlefield surrounding the walls on all sides.

"Mercy is not the province of Destiny, Cassandra"

His voice, to the protastrated woman, sounded as cold and hard as the stones she knelt on, body trembling with both creeping despair and curdling rage.

"It was written in the Book of Destiny that all these things should be so, and they cannot be unwritten"

Cassandra reared up at this, rage overcoming caution as she raised her eyes once more to gaze on this being she had summoned, this being she knew in her more rational mind deserved naught but deference and respect, at least a greater doom then the one she already carried befall her.

For here was one greater than Lord Apollo, then Lord Zeus himself, one who could truly smite her not only from life but all existence if crossed.

She found, alas, she did not care.

"It is written that great Troy, envy of the living world, be razed until not a stone of it is left to us to weep over, for the beauty that was lost and shall never be again?!"

She climbed to her feet as she spoke, words ringing out in the cold dawn, her red hair flying up in the cold wind, torch like in the heat of her passion.

"That my people shall be scattered and set upon like sheep abandoned and left to the ravenings of wolves??"

To Cassandra's distress, the flames of her anger began to flicker under the rising wave of her grief, and the tears that had until now shimmered behind her eyes now at last began to fall, and she thrust forward with the last vestiges of her anger, fists raised to shake a curse at the sky, as gray and implacable as the being before her.

"That my brothers, brave and true and flawed and foolish should all to a man fall and be forgotten?!"

Her grief at last smothered her flame, and despair gripped her as she dropped her head to her hand, knees sinking once more to the ground as she choked out:

"And that I should have the power to foresee it all, and yet be powerless to prevent it?"

Destiny stood over the princess’ shaking form, as silent tears fell from her hidden eyes, looking upon her in a silence that seemed infinite even to himself.

When at last he spoke, there was smallest shift of softness in his tone, so minute that it would have taken another Endless to note it, and so profound a change within their oldest brother would have shaken any one of them.

"What is written cannot be unwritten Cassandra" He repeated, "You, Paris, Helen. All are children of the Endless. In each of you there is an echo of your sire, one that will always ring true, though you struggle against it. Helen draws the Desire of all who look upon her, whether she wills it or not. Paris leads himself and all who surround him to Destruction, whether he seeks it or not.”

And here Destiny stepped forward, only a single step, the first he had taken since Cassandra had summoned him, but it was to any else who could have witnessed it as if an immovable mountain had stooped down to touch the cheek of a crying child.

"And you, Cassandra, last daughter of Troy, daughter of Destiny, you must bear witness to the end of all and all those you most love…"

The dawn finally broke over the city, casting the shadows of Destiny and his doomed daughter across the ramparts like a pair of shrouds.

"Whether we wish it or not"

#she got him a little too close to home with that last line #I feel like Destiny reaches out to Calliope as a former sister in law to insure the story of the fall of Troy is remembered #and to Dream as well for the same thing #it’s the least he can do for his daughter #insure she and her people are at least remembered #if not saved #children of the endless AU #children of the endless #cassandra of troy #the illiad #Troy #the sandman #sandman au #my writing #destiny of the endless #helen of troy #paris of troy #greek mythology

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gingerslapnotion · 1 year

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what if i was an unstoppable force and you were an immovable object and we were both boys 😳

or, why you should vote for AOHINA in the @hqrarepairtournament!

if you want my shortest possible argument, it's right there in the title: the expectation-defying romance of the speediest, jumpiest, sunniest and smiliest Ultimate Decoy versus the stony-faced, silent, seemingly impassive Iron Wall of Date. don't you just love it? i sure do <3

but just because I see it doesn't mean you do. if everyone saw it, it wouldn't be a rarepair, would it?

for my second-shortest argument, see here. aohina is sugawara-approved!

and if that's still not enough to convince you, buckle up for the long, LONG argument

before the first karasuno vs datekou match, aone doesn't pay hinata much mind, and hinata is TERRIFIED of aone, as many are. but once the match begins...

well, aone sure notices hinata now.

if you ask me, this match would be where aone's feelings for hinata first began. here's the handshake page again for good measure:

aone makes the first move, acknowledging hinata as a worthy opponent. also, just look at aone's facial expressions? he looks nervous. it's so cute. i love him

we don't see aone again until the spring high, when he first runs into hinata - where else? - at the bathroom, when hinata is already trapped between iwaoi and ushijima.

aone clearly already sees hinata as an acquaintance worthy of greeting (and also does not care at all about the seijoh-shiratorizawa beef and i love him) and hinata... well, he's still easily startled, but once he's realized who it is, he bows back - and thus begins a beautiful tradition.

during karasuno's match against johzenji, aone becomes defensive of hinata to futakuchi -

and not only do his teammates recall the friendship he formed with hinata at the interhigh, they note that this is one of the few times they've ever heard him speak. and it's because of hinata.

and after karasuno wins against johzenji...

aone asks his teammates to go on ahead so he can wait outside the gym and issue a challenge... not to karasuno, not to asahi, but to hinata. and hinata challenges him back. AND AONE SMILES.

and then once aone has left, hinata starts blushing and shouting nonsense because he has gay ADHD. this would be where hinata's feelings began, i think. he feels singled out and special, and it gets him fired up. he can't wait to face aone again! (also note, hinata doesn't get startled by aone anymore after this point.)

...but alas, things don't go their way, thanks to seijoh.

and after datekou's loss, when kogane claims he'll train harder to be able stop any attackers, no matter how "big and strong" they are, aone tells him this:

like. cmon. you can't deny. this is pretty damn gay!

we don't see aone at all during karasuno's matches against seijoh or shiratorizawa, or during the ball boy arc (though i'm pretty sure koganegawa does mention at least once during the training camp that aone respects hinata :3c). but he makes his return for the karasuno vs datekou practice match!!

hinata is finally totally comfortable around aone off the court, no longer jumpy and nervous. this match is also where the sugawara seal of approval makes its appearance!

i guess you could argue this also counts as evidence for futakuchi/hinata, or koganegawa/hinata, but they're not in this tournament, are they.

and god, just LOOK at all these other panels:

epic gay staring contests, with a corresponding anime screenshot for good measure;

hinata chipping away at aone's shell the Iron Wall;

aone delivering an incredibly powerful serve and hinata reacting with a flush while the lighting in the panel singles him out (gay awakening much?)

AND THE FINAL BOW!! THE DRAMA! THE CINNAMON TOPOGRAPHY!

in a way this bow is aone's curtain call - iirc, this is his final interaction with hinata in canon. but that doesn't mean he's not still around - datekou keeps an eye on karasuno throughout their battles on the nationals stage.

just look at that gay little sparkle. (also please appreciate what a bitch futakuchi is. i love him so much)

at this point i've pretty much caught up to where the anime has left off and i don't wanna spoil anyone who hasn't read the manga, so i'll stop here and make an even longer version later but know this: aone will keep watching hinata til the very end.

the Unstoppable Force: Hinata Shouyou, the protagonist of Haikyuu. on his team the second-shortest, the speediest, the one whose jumps make you think of a bird taking flight. the smiliest, sunshiniest, sometimes the scariest. he's never going to stop reaching for the top of the world of volleyball, no matter how many times he stumbles. a monster in the making, a friend to all. The Ultimate Decoy.

the Immovable Object: Aone Takanobu. the keystone of Date Tech's volleyball team, renowned for their incredible blocking technique. an eyebrow-less, stony-faced, silent, impassive, brick shithouse of a 16-year-old boy. terrifying even to those players older than him, he prides himself on not letting a single spike through, and shattering the will of many of the greatest aces in the prefecture. The Iron Wall of Date.

a study in contrasts. two competitors, skills perfectly matched to counter each other, personalities in stark contrast, are able to build a friendship built upon mutual respect for each others' abilities.

and they were both boys 😳

#aohina #haikyuu #hinata shouyou #aone takanobu #hq #pg.txt #i told you i'd be insane about this.

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akesdraws-blog · 1 year

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🏔️Immovable Mountain🏔️

Warnings: A little long, spelling mistakes and heartbreak

🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️

"Fast as the wind, silent as the forest, rough and devastating as fire, motionless as a mountain.

Reference is made to chapter seven of "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu.

I heard that little piece of literature a long time ago, it seemed a bit confusing at first, but that changed when I met them.

I was friends with Abril, we started out as work colleagues who soon became closer, and one day she introduced me to those unusual friends, even though she knew that the word "normal" was not in Abril's vocabulary, so I It wasn't that unexpected, but of course it took me by surprise.

But as I slowly became familiar with each of the turtles the more I adored them, especially him.

The leader of his team, I don't even know how it happened, but when I saw him it just took my breath away, those beautiful blue eyes, his discipline for everything, and gosh, the times I could see him train left me with my head in the clouds.

And I think maybe it was a little obvious with my attraction to Leonardo, because his brothers kept pestering me with little jokes, although it didn't bother me at all, but it did make my face change color.

And I always believed that love is not a game to just watch, so I took a risk.

I knew I couldn't just tell him, I had my own well-structured plan... Although I might have had a little help from his brothers.

-Operation make the leader fall in love without fear, take action-

-Seriously? Is that the name?-

- Ó abbreviated O.M.L.F.L.W.F.-

-Brother, I don't even know how to pronounce that-

It gave me encouragement to know that his brothers agreed with him trying to win Leo's heart, I even asked his teacher and father Splinter for his blessing, because I know how important he is to Leo.

S. -It doesn't bother me that such a good young woman wants to be with my son, you have my blessing-

Y/N. -Really?! Thank you very much Mr. Splinter!-

S. -However, I must warn you that Leonardo can be someone very difficult and nothing is guaranteed... he is like an immovable mountain-

Y/N. -I know, but I'm willing to try to take that "Immovable Mountain"-

S. -Then I wish you luck-

And with Splinter's blessing it could begin.

Step one: -Warm Greetings and a special nickname-

Every day that he went to visit them at the lair, Leonardo was always the first one he greeted, he almost always found him meditating on that pedestal, so sometimes the greetings were accompanied by a surprise hug from behind the enormous shell, although it was not surprising that for him leader was not an act of surprise, because he could hear my footsteps perfectly.

First attempt:

-Good morning Le!-

-My name is Leonardo-

Second try:

-Hello Leon!-

-It's Leonardo-

Third try:

-Hello Angry Baby!-

-I passed the infant stage a long time ago for you to call me that-

Fourth Tried:

-Good morning Kanmi!-

-Do you know what it means?-

-Of course!-

-Then don't say it again-

And so the first step failed, but I didn't want to give up yet.

Step Two: -Special Gifts-

Then there were some special gifts, I knew some of Leo's tastes, and in others his brothers helped me.

The first attempt was a book of Japanese poems, Leo had one that was already a bit worn, and although it took me too long to find the same author, I finally succeeded, getting it in a Japanese antiques store.

-Hello Leo! I have something special for you- I speak excitedly to take the book out of the backpack

-"The bird and the flower"- read the title without having any expression on his face

-You don't like it? I know it's not a new edition- before continuing to talk, you just saw how he returned to his meditation, closing his eyes -I understand, you can't interrupt the meditation... I'll leave it here- you finished speaking to let him the book aside.

°First attempt: Failed°

The Second Attempt was a type of Jasmin tea and dried cinnamon leaves, you had investigated that the combination of both resulted in a pleasant infusion that allowed you to have a restful sleep, in addition to which you had asked donnie for help to make sure it was not harmful for the turtles, and for your luck it was not.

-I'm in the middle of something Y / N, what do you need?-Leonardo spoke while he paused his reading of that old book

-Did you hear me?- you asked and you only saw how he nodded his head -Well, I know you like tea, so I brought you one that will help you sleep well- you finished speaking to take out a glass jar that contained the herbs from the tea.

-He will help us after the patrol- he finished saying to go back to his reading -You can leave it on the kitchen table- he said the last thing while he turned the page.

Y/N. -Oh, yes, of course... Everyone will like it for sure- you said the last thing, a little disconcerted to leave the jar in the kitchen.

°Second Attempt: Failed°

The Third Attempt was a scented candle, it was a suggestion from the boys, and I wasn't looking for a specific one, I was looking for one that Leo liked and I found it, a candle with the scent of green tea, and the boys told me that they would also look for one smelling like melon, I had no idea why that specific smell, and honestly I was a little scared this time, I mean, it's normal after your previous attempts failed colossally.

-Hi Leo!- You spoke loudly but you couldn't see him anywhere

-I'm sorry Y/N, the boys left unexpectedly at the police station- April spoke from the sofa while eating a couple of peas with wasabi -Have you brought anything else for Leo?- I ask mischievously

-I understand, duty is duty- upon hearing that question you blushed, you were too obvious with your intentions -Something like that, can you give it to him this time?- you asked taking out the pair of candles and giving them to the redhead

-Seriously? I mean, there's no problem but... You don't want to wait for it?-I ask while he took the candles and smelled them lightly with a smile

-I must get home earlier, you know how the streets are later and the heroes are not on duty- you said amused to say goodbye with a smile as you left

-Melon, it smells like her- she said with a smile

°Third Attempt: ??°

Honestly on the third try you didn't want a total rejection like the last few times, you just texted the guys to tell them you were home, you got a reply from everyone except Leo, just those horrible “seen” moths.

You were considering abandoning the plan, if it weren't for the boys, the brothers always helped you keep your spirits up, you had become a very close friend to them like April, and something told you that the boys wanted you as a future sister-in-law

-We still have two more steps, remember?-

-Yes, it cannot fail-

-Do you still want to do it?-

-Well... A warrior doesn't give up without a fight, right?-

-That's how it is spoken!-

After Steps One and Two failed, we were now going to Step Three “Attentions”.

The next one wasn't that difficult, since it was something you started doing in the beginning, something simple like cleaning the bonsai shelf a bit, aka "Leo's babies", you cleaned the remains of candle wax that were on the shelf, pedestal where he always meditated, and now you were going to the dojo, although there wasn't much to do since Leo always kept it impeccable.

-Not the floors, neither were the weapons, was there ever a pinch of dust here?- You stared at the dojo trying to find something to clean and after getting closer to the weapons to see them, noticing that the leather on the handle was quite worn - Could you help me with this-

It only took you 5 minutes to go to the store to buy new straps, and you started with Raph's which was a maroon red leather, then you went through Mikey's nunchucks in which you used an orange leather with some small prints of smiley faces, then it was Donnie's that was the least worn since he often used the modified one that he always carried, and finally Leo's katanas, you could see how these were the most worn, you could tell how much I train with them, you came to think how many times he stayed up late to perfect his technique, until it was perfect, you began to remove the worn leather from one of the katanas to put the new leather on it electric blue like the color of his eyes.

-I hope he likes it- you murmured with a smile to take the other katana and be able to start removing the leather carefully

-What do you think you're doing?! - I shout loudly as he entered the dojo

You admitted that seeing Leo suddenly enter the dojo surprised you a lot, and even more so because you saw him agitated, it seemed that he had finished fighting with destroyer again.

But before I could ask if he was alright, he rushed over to take the katana from you.

-Who told you that you could take my things?-He kept his weapon behind him

-I sent them a message to see if they agreed, what's the problem?- you just got up while dropping the excess leather

-And did you see that I answered?- I ask with a serious tone

-Well... No, but I thought - you just started backing up instinctively

-Well, stop believing, a ninja's weapon is sacred and only the bearer of it can manipulate it!-He raised his voice while advancing at the same time that you backed down

-I just wanted to do something special for you- you had no idea why you felt that way, it was as if you were being intimidated by a huge predator

As you backed away and Leonardo got closer, you didn't notice that it was as if he was leading you to the exit until you only saw the entrance to one side of you, you didn't imagine one day feeling that way when facing Leo like that.

-I appreciate the attention you have, but I only put up with it for my brothers, I know they like you- I rubbed his forehead annoyed while he backed up a bit as if thinking

-I love them too, and I'm grateful to them, but everything I do has been for you- you couldn't keep quiet anymore, if you had to be direct you would be

-Well, I don't want anything from you!-I speak loudly when he turned to see you and hit the side of your head with force

You could hear how the blow on the wall resounded like a cold echo throughout the dojo, your body trembled from that cold and cruel look with which the leader saw you, there was not a single hint of those compassionate eyes and full of tenderness from those who fell madly in love, now you saw eyes that simply generated fear.

-Oh... I understand... I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding- you only forced a smile

-What's wrong? Is everything okay?- the redhead quickly entered the dojo to see them both

-We heard the blow from the living room, what's wrong?- the black-haired man came behind -or is it just me, or can the tension be seen right now?- I speak a little funny to try to alleviate the moment

-I think I'm not feeling well... Can you take me home?- you spoke to see April who understood immediately

A. -Casey, can you take her to your car?- he asked the black-haired man, who just nodded as he took you out of the place -Leo... I know his patrol was very tense this time, but you don't have to take it out on everyone- it was the only thing the redhead said to leave

Casey and April took you home, they both knew something was wrong with you but you still insist that everything was fine, but they could see through that bitter smile you had on your face, but despite everything and with a lot of insistence just you managed to get April to go home, and Casey stayed to take care of you, you gave her some sheets since it didn't look like she was going to leave soon, while you told her that you would go to sleep a little earlier and you locked yourself in your room.

-Y/N, are you okay?-

-Why did you leave like that? You didn't even greet us! 😭-

-Shut up mikey, April told us that you felt bad, how do you feel flea?-

-Do you need me to contact a doctor near your location?-

-I'm fine guys, I'll get some sleep, thanks for worrying-chat.

Seeing the boys' concern made me feel a little good, but I didn't like lying to them, when I turned off the phone I couldn't take it anymore, tears started to come out of my eyes and that smile that I tried so hard to maintain broke like a smile mask falling to pieces, he could only remember that look from the leader.

-Hey little girl, are you okay?- He spoke from the other side of the door -I heard you whimpering, your apartment gets very quiet and it was impossible to hear you-

-Don't worry... I'm fine- you tried to speak as normal as possible

-Can you say it again... Without your voice shaking?- the serious but friendly voice of the black-haired man was heard

-I... I'm fine... I... I'm not fine- you couldn't control yourself anymore and you fell into tears

After a while Casey was in your room, sitting next to you patting you gently on the back while you were lying on your bed, you had already told him what had happened, the fact that he had listened to you left you calmer.

-Don't feel bad... I mean, they scared me too the first time I met them- I was trying to cheer you up

-It's not that- you tightened the sheet -It's just... I've never seen that look in Leo and it scares me to think that I'm the cause for him to have that look- once again the tears threatened to come out

-he was just stressed and suddenly exploded- he began to wish that it was April who had stayed instead of him

-I made it explode- you muttered as you buried your face in the pillow.

After what happened, you were absent from the lair for a while, you never thought that one day you would appreciate the overload of work that your boss gave you, it kept you busy and it was the perfect excuse, but you missed your favorite turtles a lot.

A few weeks passed without her going to see them, until once she finished all the work and being dragged by April, she was back in the sewers.

-Guys! Guess who I brought?- Abril spoke loudly to get everyone's attention

-Baby Angel!- Mikey yelled to quickly hug you while she lifted you up in the air -Don't abandon us again!- He whimpered while rubbing her cheek on your head

-Okay, okay... I won't go away for so long- you thought Mikey's attitude was adorable and then you saw Raph and Donnie -I already saw them! Where's my hug?- you spoke to them while you extended your arms

You soon had the three turtles hugging you, standing in the middle of a huge pile of shells, as April left them to go say hello to Splinter.

-Are you okay?- I ask in a low murmur

-Yes, I am- you answered in a similar murmur

-Calm down, with the last step you will surely make it- Mikey spoke excitedly but he only saw how you shook your head

-What's wrong? We only have one thing left to try- Raph intervened as he looked at her

-I understood some things, and it's best to stop with this- you snuggled into the arms of the three huge turtles -Maybe I'm not their sister-in-law... But what about a sister? I can still bother them like this- you spoke to show them a big smile

-Oh yes! I always wanted a sister!-

-You would be the least of all-

-That's obvious, she is a flea is perfect as the younger sister-

-Of course, I'll be the biggest huge baby Red!-

Soon they started a small fight, you were only able to free yourself when you proposed a night of video games, while they were getting ready you were able to go say hello to Splinter, and although you thanked him for the previous blessing, you also informed him that you would stop trying to be something else with Leo, although the idea Having a new daughter didn't bother him either, you were able to leave the dojo to go with the rest.

But as you walked you saw Leonardo on that pedestal, meditating as always, still taking your breath away but you were ready to accept it, ready to accept something that wasn't going to happen.

-Good morning Leonardo- was the only thing you said to pass by his side

-Baby Angel, hurry up! - Mikey shouted from the living room

-Yes, hurry up for your defeat!-Raph spoke loudly while he had one of the controls in his hand

-Give me the control to make Baby Red swallow his words!- you spoke with a smile to go with the rest

Love is not a bystander game, you must learn to take the first step to try, but you must also learn to stop when necessary, otherwise you could damage your own heart later.

🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️

These days have not been the happiest so to speak.

Have you seen the Pixar movie "Inside Out"?

It is as if now in my head who is in control is "Sadness"

So I needed to get this out of my mind, and you can't imagine how much I've cried imagining each scene while writing it.

🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️

I was debating a lot on whether to add the tags or not, since this was more of a vent, but I liked the result.

Maybe later I'll do the version from Leo's perspective.

Tags:

@post-apocalyptic-daydream . @turtle-babe83 . @turtlesmakemehappy . @dilucsflame33 . @thelaundrybitch . @scholastic-dragon . @leosgirl82 . @tmnt-tychou . @mackbunny . @happymoonangel .

#TMNT #tmnt fandom #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #bayverse turtles #bayverse donatello #bayverse raphael #bayverse leonardo #bayverse michelangelo #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #tmnt leo #tmnt donnie #sad writing #heartbreak girl #tmnt heartbreak

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nemenalya · 9 months

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Forgotten/devotion; Day 5 of @tes-summer-fest After the ash has settled on Vvardenfell and the legions of fallen have been gently led into their ancestors’ custody, it takes Dal an embarrassingly long time before she manages to break into the sealed off Dwemer city. There’s no battle wounds to blame for her dallying, and the double-edged news of a victory too dearly bought reached them soon enough– she’s never been so indifferent, nay so faithlessly aghast at Azura’s grand designs. A face far kinder, far more beautiful than the Prince’s haunting her dreams. By the time she sets out in earnest, it too haunts her every waking moment.

She almost fails at the door –comes close to shredding her fingers on the immovable stone seal– but she’s already sinned so deeply and eagerly that she’d wade forward into Oblivion before turning back. It would have been near impossible to find the entrance she finally manages to slip through, had they not once parted too close to the brass sentinels for the increasingly paranoid times they lived in. The ghost of a kiss taunts her, the scrape of metal hinges the chime of brass on chitin, pistons pumping the hot air of sweetly warm breath.

Beyond the hallways are empty, scattered with curious piles of dust as she advances deeper, no echo of living beings. In the blindingly cold light cast neither from Azura’s sky nor Boethiah’s fire it’s all too easy to be reminded of a House mer ancestral tomb long disused. No single bone, just metal, metal, metal, yet she feels awfully watched. Good.

Arkngath signed fanciful pictures of the city more than once; describing the way to her study in precise detail while throwing whimsical morsels about the baths, the workshops. Dal remembers the explanations well, the awfully explicit fantasies her partner wove for them. Suggestive smiles and gestures as they lay under the open sky, hands and minds wandering to the facsimile of a starry canopy in her room, where the Dwemer constellations would keep watch over them.

She’s had the layout of the cavernous floors traced on still golden skin more times to count, though it’s torture to recall the strong hands so gently roaming muscles and ink, drawing goosebumps over ticklish ribs. Dal blames it on these distractions, tinged sweeter with despair and longing, that twice she gets lost. Still silent on her feet, she retraces her steps by necessity. There is no one to ask for directions, if they would even understand her, and she avoids the constructs like one would the osseous tomb guardians.

The study is as beautiful as Arkngath described, door standing open to reveal a domed room full of spheres and gems and so much brass inlaid with other precious metals she has no name for. Clean cut stone walls stuffed with scrolls and tombs, the paper giving the room a peculiar warmth the rest of the pristinely kept keep sorely lacked. Constellations whir overhead with the ticking of a hundred cogwheels. Beyond, the curved ceiling is eternally dark, a deep unsettling blue stuck in perfect nadir between dusk and dawn. No indigo, no rose to blot out the myriad stars. Suddenly this mechanical sky is too profane a mockery to bear, forever devoid of Azura‘s touch, her hopeful blessings. Dal shivers, wishing fervently Arkngath were here to wrap her softly in warm arms, polished jewellery cool on a flushed face. The soft smell that would comfortingly envelop her as she closed eyes eternally red with unshed tears.

In the corner is a blanket thoughtlessly discarded, beautiful ashlander weave crumpled on the cot. Familiar comfort in this abandoned alien structure, Dal still remembers the day she gifted it, the jovial arch of her partner’s “thank you” as ‘gath spoke with one arm all evening to not let go of the love declaration. When Dal hugs the fabric close the smell still lingers faintly, and she drapes herself in it as she paces the room to sooth panicked thoughts.

There’s an itch under her skin like the tremor before a storm, and when her feet have traced three circles round the chamber faster and faster, she descends unto the shelves. Like a tempest she rifles around, overturning sheets and sheaves, until hidden between piles of equations and diagrams, she finds a letter half written.

“Beloved,” it reads, “there is something afoot, and I wish you were safe in my arms behind these walls, for all you and yours would sooner run them down. Little is known or told, but the construct-wizards” –they had formed their own silly parlance learning each other’s tongue, loaning vaguely from proper Dwemeris– “and our architects have become yet more secretive and meticulous in their preparations.”

The daedric letters always look a little too neat and stocky under Arkngath‘s quill, but as the line skips too far they lie even more squat, almost a little smeared. “Forgive me, my head was not made for this suspense. If only you could be here to ease the tension. Your hands on my neck, soothing the muscles. I’d make do with the baths, but the steam makes me unea– you’re rubbing off on me, beloved. Soon I’ll sound like a Chimer, then maybe I will be thrown out to join you. Nchamz told me she keeps hearing a sound, a hum beating increasingly louder…”

She has to hold the letter to the light now to make out the last lines, hasty and uneven, jumbled across the page. Beneath her knees, a wrap dress shivers to the floor as she scrambles across the seat and halfway onto the table. “Dal, beloved, song of my stars, I’ve seen you! Please make it stop, the visions, the pain. I-I can’t see, can you read– don’t go! The pulse, I can feel you running through– no, the arc–”

The line drops off in the middle of a word, ink splattering across the paper, pooling at the crude upstroke of a cess.

With it shatters Dal’s entire world. She tears apart the desk, the shelves, but none of the letters make sense to her, and even if they would, the words wouldn‘t. So many secrets she’ll never read and what if somewhere Arkngath left her another message, a clue where she’s gone, who’s taken her– Dal crumbles down under the profane facsimile of a sky as not-masser rises bleeding garnet red. Raw hands clutch the half finished letter to her chest as rawer still panic robs her breath.

In the soon forgotten depths of an unremarkable Dwemer keep that outlasted the usefulness of its name, a blanket still holding the ghost fragrances of spiced soap and sulphur hides tears running down ash-grey cheeks, forming ash-grey clusters in the scattered dust.

#elder scrolls #morrowind #tesfest23 #arkngath #dal

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