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#fanfic quote
gaerfinn · 4 months
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“Of course, the history of the whole world could be, for Crowley, a character study of Aziraphale.”
Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach, by Nnm
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roseunspindle · 2 months
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"He acts not like a young man going to war, but an old one burying the dead at the end of it. - Dune Fanfic Turning Point
Feyd thinking about Paul
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ambrossart · 9 months
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“Someone broke you,” he said, displeased. “Now who would go and do a thing like that?”
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winterdeath81 · 2 years
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“Harry.”
Nothing more than this one word was said at first. Stranded in a dimly lit alley, the older man crowded Harry’s space and it felt like a form of protection. Harry’s fingers twisted in Voldemort’s coat, pulling him close in an embrace and — there. Much better. No explanation was demanded for this childish display. There was only silence as the Dark Lord periodically smoothed his palms down Harry’s back like a concerned parent would to their child. Harry hugged him back more tightly.
He didn’t know who or what started it but at some indefinite point, Harry found himself pressed against a solid, cold surface. But Voldemort’s palms on his cheeks were warm and his eyes alone made Harry stand very still. The height and broad shoulders which accompanied said eyes only further commanded stillness. The Dark Lord was powerful and warm and he looked at Harry and Harry just knew and wished for him all the same. Pushing up on his toes, Harry kissed the man.
He should be used to it by now, to the way Voldemort would take charge of his mouth and — everything, really. It was more than a joining of lips. Voldemort kissed like kissing was no more than a viciously long prelude to fucking. With a slick tongue and sharp teeth, skilled fingers held Harry’s jaw open as if forcing him to accept a bitter medicine though he was forcing nothing because Harry was all too willing. Harry gasped and mewled and shuddered in his need to be closer to the other man who was everything to him now.
"You’re such a needy child," Voldemort rasped against Harry’s jaw with mirth. “My child, my spoiled little child begging to be fucked, aren’t you? You are.”
Harry didn’t respond, couldn’t bring himself to do little else besides spread his legs. Or perhaps the Dark Lord pushed them apart. Either way, it mattered little as a knee expertly pressed between them while scraping teeth traveled up and down Harry’s neck. And Harry… Harry did feel like a small child begging to be fucked. Though it was a perverse thought, he was small compared to the towering Lord Voldemort… and he loved and relished in every second of it. As soon as he ground himself against the man’s knee, the Dark Lord smiled against Harry’s neck.
“Good boy.” The praise sent shivers through Harry’s body more than any freezing water could. On second thought, maybe it was a fever instead of a chill? “Such a good boy,” Voldemort mouthed against his lips. “Harry, my Harry.”
By the time Harry grabbed a hold of Voldemort’s cock through the material of his trousers, they were both a mess for one another. And that was okay. It was dirty and rushed and exhausting, the Dark Lord’s hands on his hips the only thing standing between Harry and his collapse, but it was okay.
But what proved to be far from that were Voldemort’s words whispered into his ear, tone as sweet as honey.
“I am going to slaughter your uncle tonight. How do you feel about watching?”
Harry’s knees did buckle after that.
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june-rambles · 1 month
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hi dinahsiren fandom... :)
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perpolloquote · 2 years
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via Thatgirlnoemie, “Aphrodite's Mask”
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mageathenaeum-hl · 6 months
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She tried to pay the boy beyond the glass wall no mind, but alas, it would appear that he garnered all of her attention, frustratingly, without even trying.  He did not do much besides sit and observe her. The mild blue glow of his window, paired with the unusual luminosity of his skin attracted the overall light of the room his way, like he was placed under stage lights. Madeleine was not too sure if he would still draw as much attention were he to move from beyond the hearth and position himself somewhere less centrepiece to the interior.  Something about him made her gaze seek him out, no matter how hard she tried to remain on top of her task. With enough stolen glances, it finally dawned on her, embarrassingly belatedly, that the young man was in fact not exactly human.  The freckles that adorned his pale skin seemed to glimmer faintly in their own light, unrelated to the environment. The same could be said of what Madeleine was now moderately sure were decorative or protective growths around his eyes.  The more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her that he was a rare Magical Beast, or perhaps a Being, displayed as a valuable collectionary piece, an artwork.  Not that he was not beautiful, and he clearly had a magnetism to him – likely a magical ability of his kind – which drew people to him, for better or worse. 
-- Pearls of Golden Chapter 1 <AO3>
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areiacannaid · 2 years
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Day 27: Comfort
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Tears freely streaked the soot on [Gilan's] face. Halt couldn't tell if they were from relief, shock, pain, smoke, or perhaps all of them combined. Regardless, he pulled the trembling boy into a hug, and felt Gilan's arms circle around him in turn. He stolidly ignored the closed feeling in his throat and the slight trace of wetness in his own eyes.
His apprentice was alive and mostly alright. Being keenly aware of how badly this could have ended, only made the moment seem all the more fragile. 
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Even if you feel like it'll sink me, at least we'll sink together
- Louis Tomlinson in If The World Was Ending, You'd Come Over, Right?
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battleplanet-quotes · 5 months
Conversation
Dan: I know, but you see... That's not all, I have something I wanted to ask you.
Magnus: Ok, What is it?
Dan: Magnus, you're not a bad person. I know there's some good in you, I've seen it! You're not like the rest of the exit, you're unique.
Magnus: ...Right..
Dan: I know this might seem a little left field but Magnus... Would you like to join the Awesome Ones?
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sinvulkt · 2 years
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Amalgam by Blanc_et_Noir
"What the fu- WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, DREAM!?" Tommy shook, his body aching and creaking from the revival.
Dream smiled, crooked and nauseating, as he spread his arms out with the lava to his back, "A god."
-
George stared down at his cold and shaky hands before he clenched them into fists. He looked up at the blank mask of the eldritch creature before him, cracks marking an X on the porcelain as it stared back emotionlessly, "What do you want to be, XD?"
"Your friend." He answered simply, his voice echoing around them. Almost multiplying with whispers. "A human."
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The server thought they knew Dream but they were wrong. They were instead faced with a monster who thought he was a god.
Funnily enough, Dream didn't know who he was either. All he knew was that there was a gaping hole in his soul and his memory seemed to be fragmented and all over the place—seemingly unaware of the very same god who shared his problems and emptiness.
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If you have a mortal reaching and grasping at straws to be a god…
If you have a god pleading and trying to be human…
If you have the two, don't you think there's something off? Ongoing, 9,8k words.
*** ** * ** ***
Something wasn’t right.
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sappho-of-space · 1 year
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"You shall find rest, worry not my dear cousin," Percy said, pulling the spirit to his chest. He threaded his fingers through the weak wisps that were once hair, something of a soothing gesture. "They shall know you have passed, they will know to mourn."
Souls were lost at sea like the exchange of coin..."
Just a snippet from a wip, featuring Percy as a psychopomp for those that die/are lost at sea. The story starts during the Age of Exploration and makes its way to the present :)
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roseunspindle · 3 months
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Sam’s had over two decades of practice at being an annoying little brother, so if Dean wants to play incest chicken, then oh, it’s on. -
Whatever You Can Do (I Can Do Better) -
fallingintodivinity
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wilt3d-r0zes · 2 years
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He was so tired.
He let his body go limp, eyes unseeing staring out the windshield. It felt like his entire body was made of concrete, actively solidifying him into a position he won’t move from until the car pulls up in front of their final destination.
His mind wanders, and any thoughts that he dances through disappear as he continues thinking. Occasionally his eyes will flit around and he’ll take in something from reality, before they droop back to the center and he disappears again.
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winterdeath81 · 2 years
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Deep in a castle, far far away from Hogwarts, Harry and Voldemort share a large throne.
Voldemort’s legs sprawl widely as he rests in the massive throne. He is gazing at Harry with the smugness of a conquering warlord, decadently indulgent. Harry’s knees are digging into the throne on either side of Voldemort’s hips, more than enough room on the massive throne, seated gently on Voldemort’s lap. Small hands press against the sides of Voldemort’s face as Harry gently traces his thumbs under Voldemort’s blood-red eyes, fingertips ghosting over the man’s skull. Harry touches that odd serpentine nose, trails down to bloodless lips.
Harry is exploring the beast and Voldemort allows it, letting Harry press against him and examine Voldemort’s inhuman features with hedonic amusement.
Voldemort presses a curled knuckle under Harry’s chin, lifting Harry’s face up. Harry’s eyes flicker from Voldemort’s lips to crimson eyes, the gaze simmering and enigmatic. Harry feels small like this; he is petite compared to Voldemort’s inhuman frame but right now he feels engulfed, surrounded by the heavy cloak of Voldemort’s dark magic.
Harry just wants to curl up in this magic, roll around in it, and he sighs against Voldemort’s face, eyes flickering back down onto Voldemort’s lips. Harry gently presses his palms against the side of Voldemort’s neck, hands sliding under the beast’s jaw, around his neck. The pads of Harry’s thumbs rest on inhumanly pale cheeks, guiding Voldemort forward until their lips touch.
Harry is breathless, mind static, heart stuttering as Voldemort’s hands wrap around his small waist. Until now, Voldemort has given Harry all control of the pace. But now, now, the cool press of lips explodes in world-destroying heat, a tongue delving into Harry’s mouth. Harry is plundered, Voldemort taking the spoils of war and Harry keening as he arches against Voldemort in helpless need. Harry cries against Voldemort’s lips as sharp teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes rolling back in his head as Voldemort rolls Harry’s hips, guiding Harry to grind down on the hardness between his thighs, and Harry is whispering reverent prayers against Voldemort’s lips.
Voldemort pulls back, his lips dripping Harry’s blood, Harry gripping the broad shoulders under his hands as he steadies himself.
“My sweet horcrux, all mine,” Voldemort whispers in soft praise, amused and smug and feral, hands tight against Harry’s hips.
Harry smiles down indulgently at Voldemort, the man’s twisted features striking.
Harry doesn’t mind Voldemort is ugly. In fact, Harry rather likes it. Likes holding a monster between his thighs, likes how Voldemort goes crazy for him, likes feeling small and outpowered and outgunned. Likes perching on Voldemort’s lap. Likes being indulged with sharp nails and sharper teeth and soft praise.
“I love you,” Harry whispers, exultant, pressing his scarred forehead against Voldemort’s, drowning in Voldemort’s dark gaze as he offers his thoughts up as proof of his adulation.
“Yes, I know, my darling,” Voldemort laughs, bringing Harry’s lips back to his.
It’s crazy, but Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.
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cliquestitsandicks · 2 years
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“Ryan noted the tragic thread that linked the Bat, the gems formed over a lifetime of intrusions and damage. And it made her feel… connected… to something much larger than herself, more pivotal to Gotham. It made her feel like she was destined to enhance — not just carry — a legacy. A legacy propelled by righteousness formed as the fire in the hearts of the children who should have shattered and the mothers who kept watch from beyond to make sure they didn’t.”
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