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saffyspirals · 1 year

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EYYY!! I recently found you in this app and I just gonna say your content is pretty great! Is it okay if I put on a request? Like what would the blue lock characters call their S/o? ;) any characters is fine to me but I hope Nagi and Kurona will be included hehe- Good work btw!

❥ fandom: blue lock

❥ includes: nagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, shidou, kurona, hiori & reo

❥ notes: hi!! i really loved writing this request, so thanks for sending it in! i thought really hard about what kurona would call his s/o (literally took days), and fell in love w/ his character in the process :)

❥ warning(s): hmm…kurona might be ooc IDK but i like this kurona!

you are nagi’s little angel. he low-key started calling you that as a joke (he used to find couple nicknames a little cringe), but eventually, he grows to love your reactions to the name. you smile at him, a lot, and it gets him out of trouble 90% of the time. “come back to bed, angel… ‘m asking nicely, aren’t i?”

kaiser switches it up like no man’s business. he’d been calling you by different pet names since before you got together so, you’re pretty used to it. i’d say he rotates between babe/baby, love and princess. honey bunches and names of a similar strange nature are saved for when he feels like teasing you. mein kaiserin (my empress in his native tongue) is only used on special, romantic occasions. like, when he tells you he loves you for the first time. or when he’s trying to get his family to understand just how serious he is about you. <3

bachira switches between love and sugar. sugar-plum when he wants to embarrass you. bachira is definitely one to tell you that he loves you quite a lot, he just doesn’t want you to forget, i suppose! giving you ‘love’ as a nickname is a way of reminding you of the fact rather than declaring how he feels 24/7. sugar is just another name he likes. it sounds good coming from him, and you usually get a kiss after he uses it, which is of course a bonus. “eh? you’re asking me how i think you look today? you look perfect, sugar! always do.”

chigiri refers to you as his darling. the nickname is beautiful, and elegant, just like he is. it’s easy to get flustered, having him call you that. chigiri likes the fact that he’s able to bring about such an adorable reaction.

kunigami doesn’t call you by this nickname often. actually, he uses your first name most of the time, mostly out of habit (i’m thinking friends-since-forever turned lovers), partly because he feels a little embarrassed giving you a nickname and using it in front of others. BUT ANYWAY, kunigami refers to you as pretty. he’d first called you it by accident, but since you seemed elated by it, decided he’d continue to use it on occasion. “tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty.”

SHIDOU CALLS YOU SWEET GIRL. (🫠🫶) + similar variations like, sweetie or sweetheart, or sweet cheeks. snookums is reserved for when he’s about to tell you he’s done something that will probably annoy you. reason for the nickname? well, you’re sweet! you’ve got a good heart, and won’t swing for people if they say/do anything you don’t like. “are you gonna kiss me goodbye, sweet cheeks? or am i gonna have to chase ya?”

kurona primarily calls you pudding. his reason for it? “i like pudding, and i like you.” i feel like he’s kind of a private person, and only opens up when he feels totally comfortable with someone so, it’s only used when it’s just the two of you around. HOWEVER. private as he is, i think kurona’s got this other side to him. he likes to tease you, just a little. say for example, you’re giving him the silent treatment. he’ll still try and talk to you, but will eventually get tired of not getting any attention. and then, “hey, y/n? can you pass me some napkins?” “…” “…ah, right. you love being called pookie bear, don’t you. POOKIE BEAR, WILL YOU PASS ME SOME NAPKINS?” he’ll pull this kind of stunt in front of your mutual friends when you’re having breakfast together (or something of a similar scenario!). it’s embarrassing, but it gets you to talk at least. he likes having you address him, even if it’s to tell him to, “stop embarrassing me, idiot!”

hiori calls you pumpkin. a little on the cheesy side, but i think it suits him! he isn't embarrassed about referring to you by the name in public either. it shows anyone who might be questioning your relationship that you're definitely together. if it embarrasses you, he'll do his best to tone it down. no promises that he'll never say it though, hiori simply can't help it!

reo rotates between a lot of sweet sounding nicknames. precious, my love, honey. i don't think he does this on purpose, but reo loves using 'my' before a lot of nicknames too. it's just an unconscious reminder that you're all his, and honestly, he's all yours. reo would be all in for any relationship he pursues, and nicknames come with the territory. bonus: he'd be absolutely over the moon if you gave him a cute nickname too. sure, he'd be a little embarrassed if his friends teased him about it, but his heart would swell with pride. being known as the 'sickening, lovey-dovey' couple isn't a bad thing, you know!! "My love, remind me what you wanted me to get you at the store later?"

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precious-little-scoundrel · 3 months

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WIP teaser

I got myself a lovely little request over a week ago for a Nurse!xBuck fic. Well, hi, it’s me, can’t not take that and run with it straight off the edge of the known world. I don’t even have a fixed name for it yet but I’ve been enjoying AU-ing our familiar faves to death with it

MOTA Pacific Theatre AU: yeah, you heard that right. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Iwo Jima currently happening or maybe it’s my ongoing crush on Ensign Jane Kendeigh, or -more likely- my subconscious awareness that nurse OC’s are a pretty favorited bunch for fandom writers, so I’ve found myself mixing it up entirely.

We’ve got Navy Flight Nurses and we’ve got Lt. Commander Doc Egan and co-pilots Cleven and Demarco who aren’t too fond of having to fly cargo planes full of wounded out of war zones all due to flight surgeon John Egan’s special request to have Cleven chauffeur him around. Oh yeah, and somehere in here there’s a developing thing between Cleven x oc Nurse!Ensign Maureen Kendeigh

TW: blood? Use of the word “Jap”

…

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his station, then past it to poke her head between the pilots’ seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted, she hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a bloodied toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Thank you, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

#wip #those who can #mota #masters of the air #Gale Cleven #mota AU #Buck Cleven #Austin butler #Austin butler fanfiction #mota fanfic #gale cleven x reader #john egan

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darkhymns-fic · 3 months

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A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening

Husk used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Amazing how certain people can ruin such things for you.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Alastor/Husk, Charlie Morningstar, Angel Dust Rating: M Word Count: 4421 Mirror: AO3 Notes: I caved in and wrote fic for the funny swearing cartoon. Please note that this story contains depictions of abuse and power dynamics, as well as implications of violence. More tags are listed on the AO3 mirror. Grumpy cat man does not have a good time here (or even a choice).

Husk raised an eyebrow as he processed the information that was passed to him. (No, he couldn’t have heard that right.)

He was still cleaning up a shot glass with a less-than-clean rag, but his movements slowed, keeping his eyes level with the princess of Hell who stood in front of his bar. The eerie glow of the wooden walls fell over her hair, coating it in a green sheen that reminded him of poison dripping down the strands. A bitter but familiar taste settled on his tongue.

“…A dance party?” he finally asked her.

“Yes! For everyone in the hotel! There’s gonna be balloons and camaraderie and so much music!” Charlie was bouncing up and down on her toes. If she got any more excited, she’d probably jump straight up through the roof. Not like it would’ve been the first construction hazard the hotel had, or even the last. “It was Alastor’s idea! He said it would be a really good morale booster!”

Not a whisker twitched on Husk’s face, but he could feel the cracks in the glass forming underneath his hand. Another one for the dustbin. “Of course it was.”

Too low for Charlie to hear him, not that he wanted her to. She was riding on cloud nine, which was an achievement for a Hell-born denizen. “I just gotta get all the decorations set up! Oh! And Alastor told me to invite you specifically! It’s going to be so much fun!”

Thankfully, Charlie turned away then—to check up on all those decorations, the bright balloons, and streamers, and what looked like a disco ball (?) up top that was just gonna break the beams of this shack of a building. Because by then, the glass Husk was holding had shattered to pieces.

With a growl, he picked away at the shards embedded in his fur, one by one. Just a few of them were stained in blood, their color gaining a sickly green hue from the glow of the bar.

What a painful way to start the night.

Before anyone had even hit the dance floor, Husk was already shit-faced. But he wasn’t blackout drunk, and right now, that was his ultimate goal. Cheap booze was hardly good for anything else.

He could barely care whatever music was playing—but by the way Charlie was twirling and shaking her arms like an excitable chicken, it must have been some of that new pop stuff Husk never took much of a liking to. Much of the scene was a blur to him, still staying put behind his bar, hoping to be forgotten for his boss’ new…interest.

(Awful to think, but some men craving for freedom, for anything, become desperate. He knew this too well.)

Alastor was doing all he could to encourage the princess with a bleeding heart; holding up his mic to comment on her dancing techniques, to cue applause at just the right moment, always telling her the same thing. “Wonderful! Just a wonderful performance!”

Even so, one could barely call this much of a party. Hazbin Hotel’s guests were so few—still only two total—but that Sir Pentious was also doing some of the dorkiest moves Husk had ever seen, and still falling face-first on the floor despite having no legs to trip over to begin with. Somehow, Angel Dust’s moves weren’t as X-rated as Husk would have expected on any other day. Instead, the guy was lending a pair of hands to Niffty, letting her lead yet still somehow controlling her rabid movements to pull him across the floor, also avoiding any sudden bites she would randomly decide to do.

There were times, also, when he would see Alastor reach out a hand to Charlie. He’d lean on his cane, mouth close to the mic head, humming a little ditty reminiscent of the jazz lounges back when their bodies weren’t made of fur and weird demon magic. It wouldn’t be the first time Alastor danced with the princess, but then an arm would reach out, safely guiding Charlie away from him.

Surprising that the same arm lacked a spear in it, one with a suspicious glint to it that Husk recognized but bit his tongue from ever mentioning. Vaggie’s one eye burned brighter than most firepits, and Charlie, innocent soul that she was, thought her girlfriend was just impatient for another close dance.

“Aw, Vaggie! Did you wanna try the Lindy Hop together?”

Another glare, her and the red demon’s staring contest looking ludicrous underneath the shifting lights of the spinning ball overhead. “Yeah, sure thing, hun.” And then she broke from that gaze, her expression changing to softness as she looked at Charlie in the blink of an eye and just that. It must have been love, not that Husk knew anything about it anymore. “I’ll follow your lead, if that’s okay.”

Alastor kept his smile as they both moved away, slowly pulling back his hand as his fingers curled. But a close listener could hear the static, garbling slowly in a crescendo. No, his boss didn’t like being denied his playthings.

And if he wasn’t being entertained this very second, then he’d—

“Hey, ya gonna join us? This dance party’s not half bad.” Angel Dust leaned on the bar, grinning as he took his usual seat. He hid it well, but Husk noted how his chest shifted with his heavy breathing, using his second right arm to discreetly wipe away the sweat from the fluff. It took all one had to keep up with Niffty, even from a guy who claimed to have amazing stamina.

Crossing one leg over the other, Angel kept up his smile, but it lacked the biting veneer from other times. An honesty that could be seen, even with Husk’s somewhat blurry sight. “I mean,” Angel continued. “If ya feel like sucking off that bottle instead of something with a little more taste.”

Husk didn’t take offense to such jokes anymore (just for show, which he also knew all too well) but he still didn’t move. This was the closest to safety he got. Besides, the bottle wasn’t even empty yet. “Nah, got two left feet. Wouldn’t work out.”

At that, Angel Dust laughed. “Didn’t stop our slithery friend over there! Or even Niffty! Though, uh…”

A quick look from them both showed the tiny Niffty now crawling along the walls, heading for the disco ball and then clamping it tightly with her entire body.

“Yeah,” Angel nodded. “Think she’s got the hang of it now.”

Husk shrugged. He slid a glass to Angel that was half-full, a motion he could still do even with slightly trembling hands. “Don’t let me tie you down, kid. I’ve seen your moves.” He allowed himself a smile, one he could say he even felt.

Angel took the drink, one that could barely buzz a chihuahua, and gave Husk a smile back just as he stood up. All limbs, and a smile that hid back its usual gleam for fatigued eyes. “Alright, but if you change your mind, I bet I could teach you how to move it.”

Husk could barely count the minutes since Angel left and the party continued. The soundtrack for the dance eventually changed from the generic pop to a swing number—one that Husk could probably mouth the words to if he still had any hope inside him. And sometimes, he did feel it. Staying in this hotel was misery at first until the faces became more familiar, more concerned, and less like the eyes of something that hunted and searched for that moment of weakness.

The music was as grainy as his vision, so heavily textured and straining on the ears that he kept trying to pick it up, even as it changed. The vocals. The soft melancholic chorus in the background. It lacked the instruments of the previous songs. Weird choice for a dance. So much did he focus on it, all while holding a whiskey bottle with both hands because now he wanted some of the good stuff. He stared into the warped glass as he listened for so long that he forgot how there was no safe place for him. Just for a moment, but that was all it took.

A shadow fell over the bar. Over him. He knew who it was. Husk tipped the bottle to his lips and took long, long drink.

“Husker! My dear friend, didn’t you get my invite?”

It was a while before he answered. He slammed the bottle onto the mahogany surface, twisted his lips. Already empty, he needed another. “Yeah, I did. What about it?” Whiskey made him braver, but also careless. “Gotta keep serving the guests, don’t I?”

He heard the familiar chuckle, frizzled and slightly skipping, as if the vinyl had been scratched. “While it is good to see you still keeping to your deal, you have to understand it’s rude to RSVP and then not show.”

He wrenched the cork from his new bottle; wine this time, because this felt like as good of a time to switching things up as any. He watched the mist curl from the opening with all the fascination of a man pointedly avoiding the signals around him. “I am here to anyone that’s got eyes. Besides, I never promised Charlie I would actually dance.”

“Oh? You saying our little princess is a fibber?”

“I’m saying you only hear what you want. All the damn fucking time!” A hard grip, and then, he made the mistake of raising his head to see. (Never look into his eyes, you fool.) “Why don’t you take your dumbass musical project and just shove it along with that stupid mic of yours?! At least then I can just—”

Something tugged him forward. Cold yet hot at the same time, just around his neck and clenched tight. He gripped the bar, claws digging in to keep himself from slamming his forehead into the wood.

Suddenly, his vision was crystal-clear.

The eyes burned into his. Red as the fiery sun over the sea, as the freshly split blood over a forest floor. A grin that was impossibly wide for a living thing, but neither of them were alive anymore, so all he could do was wait for when those same fangs would bite down on something else other than pride. Strange, twisting shapes curled from behind, appearing from behind the Radio Demon, like some demented crown of thorns.

“Silly Husker. That wasn’t a request and you know it.”

Oh, he knew it.

In the chaotic lighting of the room, from that fucking stupid disco ball, to the blinding streamers and balloons, and even a few rave sticks Husk caught Sir Pentious waving around, no one would notice the subtle green of the chains. How they burned into Husk’s neck, rubbing it raw until the fur would fall off, leaving him bruised beneath.

He shook again, keeping himself upright as much as he could. All to not be humiliated again, and this time in front a crowd. They would hate seeing him that way. They would demand Alastor to stop.

But the crushing indignity was too much to endure that.

“Fine,” he hissed out. “Do whatever you want.”

“Why, gladly!”

The chain vanished. Husk was left gasping, his fingers pressed against his throat to feel for any mark. (Just his property and nothing else). But he saw the hand now held out to him, palm facing upward. Those seemingly delicate fingers moved back and forth, and there was the familiar static, the usual dead air, but also…if one could turn the dial just so, the faint cacophony of screams that echoed in the distance, only to be drowned out by grainy noise.

“Shall we dance, dear Husker?”

Any choice he had once, he’d already made a while back.

Husk said nothing as he slid his hand into the other’s, claws carefully dulled to not scratch. He was practically pulled over the bar, his wings flapping in surprise. Red and black feathers circled around them both, and then he was tugged in close, looking up at the man with the smile that had now considerably shrunk—to look charming, almost. But always sharp and ready to bite.

“Now look lively, my dear. It’s as if your feet are encased in cement!”

The voice slid through his chest, like poison once more, carefully given to him in small doses over the years. A hand placed itself at the small of his back, his feet nearly lifted off the floor. An arm kept his wings closed in, so that they couldn’t stretch, like a straight-jacket forcibly put on him. Those wings were one of the few things he even liked about his form here in Hell, even if he sometimes found them to be an eyesore. But nothing else now could catch him from falling.

Nowhere to stabilize himself except in Alastor’s arms.

Anything to make him feel helpless. Vulnerable. Nothing more than a pet.

That’s all he was to him.

Alastor leaned in slightly, moving Husk’s free hand to clasp onto the taller demon’s shoulder. Husk sighed, but he followed through. Resigned. Better to be led through and survive the night without much damage. (Why even fight it?)

Just barely on his toes, and feeling the sharp nails dig just against his fur, they started their dance across the floor.

This wasn’t the first time they did this.

It was easy to fall into the motions. The thing that Husk had to begrudgingly admit was that Alastor was a pretty good dancer. He moved his feet with a grace that could be easily followed, and Husk did so. The trail of a footstep following the other, their hands joined together, leading him to the right or left with barely a pull. And with the grip behind his back, fingers circling into his fur, making Husk swallow hard.

Eyes started to follow them now, even with the awful-as-fuck lighting. He caught a glance of Niffty to the side, how she stopped trying to gnaw on Sir Pentious’ tail as she stared gleefully at her boss and co-worker getting close on the dance floor. He could hear Charlie make her excited little noises of happiness, commenting on just how sweet it was to see them demonstrate to everyone how to dance. Yeah. Sure. Anything to keep the princess oblivious to the rot beneath. At least Husk was sure Vaggie wouldn’t explain much more.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought he saw Angel Dust in the far back. Hard to tell, because the effects of all his drinking were slowly making its way back, his fear replaced by numbness. But seeing Angel’s expression, it wasn’t pity. It was an understanding between two losers at the bottom of the barrel, witness to another form of degradation. Sold souls that could do nothing else but share the pain from across the room.

And then he couldn’t see Angel anymore. Because Alastor suddenly dipped him, so low to the ground that Husk found himself clinging tighter to the demon. His fur stood on end, his hat dangerously close to falling off. But Alastor leaned in close, his sharp teeth just at Husk’s ear, his breath parting the fur as gentle as a caress.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening. Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Husk widened his eyes. The music playing in the room, its echoes finally reaching his drunken skull. Oh, this absolute fucker.

The guy’s face really was made for radio.

Alastor lifted him up again, twirled him with barely a thought for Husk, who could have vomited from motion sickness. Wings flapped open, desperate for freedom, only to be closed in again by Alastor bringing Husk close. Another lean, and the song played again, closer, on the speaker that was Alastor’s mouth, with a voice that wasn’t his but that age-old recording.

“A casual stroll through a garden, and a kiss by a lazy lagoon.” Alastor’s grin could be felt against Husk, and how so often was he told how soft his fur was, to touch and play with. “Catching a breath of moonlight. Humming our favorite tune.”

Husk bristled. His claws bent inwards, so close to Alastor’s neck. It would be easy to at least draw blood, right in front of everyone, to show that this demon, horrifying as he was, can still be wounded despite it all.

Except, Husk had already tried that once. Back when the deal had still been fresh.

Alastor turned to face him, his smile so manic, so very daring.

Husk did nothing, instead continuing to listen to the song that Alastor played, dictating their movements. The same song that Husk remembered hearing on the radio so many years ago.

“I want to save all my nights and spend them with you. I love spending all with you…”

It felt like centuries before the party was finally over.

Husk could barely stand to be back behind his bar, let alone in the hotel lobby. The balloons, which half were already deflated, were a fucking eyesore and that damn ball up top or whatever did eventually fall—on Sir Pentious. But if the guy could survive an attack from the Radio Demon absolutely demolishing his ship and half of his egg boys, then it was clear the snake was indestructible.

Maybe Husk was a bit jealous.

He didn’t want to deal with seeing anyone, even when Alastor, finally, finally let him go. Still, their clasped hands lingered, and Alastor leaned down as if to kiss his knuckles, Husk frozen in place at the very thought. And then, fingers laxed in their hold, allowing Husk to pull back, his fur on end and his wings frazzled, the feathers out of place.

The song had long stopped playing but still he heard it, deep in his skull, as if someone had shoved a phonograph there, the horn of it directed right inside his ear.

A quick exit, before anyone could reach him. Hypocritical maybe, but he didn’t feel like voicing his troubles right now. Not when it just fucking happened right in front of everyone, with only one of them even getting a hint of what it was all about.

Alastor and his stupid games.

But even when Husk retreated to this room, he could barely relax. The room was just one in a hundred in this empty hotel, but one that Charlie had been so happy to lead him to that first time. She had pointed to each pillow on the bed and even to all the little mints that were stacked on top. She had even been hyped for the shaded lamps on the bedside table, despite the bulbs long weakening. Overkill, like much of what she did. But earnest, and genuine, and one that truly did see the good in everyone despite how each sinner had earned their keep here.

A complete difference from the Radio Demon that had just materialized at his side, a whisper of a soft, nostalgic melody his only warning.

“Oh, Husker. I didn’t peg you to be an early sleeper.”

Followed immediately by the door slamming shut.

Husk didn’t dare turn. Not yet, not until he reached for the cards in his pocket. They could be as sharp as knives, as strong as wire. He was drunk, and tired, and maybe he was past his limit at having himself played around with in front of everyone like it was all just normal.

But, before he could even pull back his arm, something held him in place. A blink. The lamp in his room flickered, and he caught the antlered shadow on his left wall, grabbing at his own. Of fucking course.

“Bad kitty! And after I let you keep your little toys.”

A quick squeeze and Husk sucked air through his teeth, dropping a flurry of his cards to the carpet. Then a violent turn, and the manacle appeared once more around his neck, the sickening green creating valleys and crevices all over Alastor’s grinning face.

Still, that godforsaken melody kept playing.

Then a pull.

Husk choked. He reached for the links, clung to it, even as they burned off his fur. His wings stretched wide, flapped once and then twice. All he could do to keep his ground.

Alastor leaned his head to the side at a painful angle—unclear if he even felt anything while doing so, or maybe he did because he could, relishing the crack of bone and the rupture of blood vessels. All while he held onto Husk’s leash, keeping it taut.

It wasn’t enough to make Husk shut up.

“You fucking psychopath. What more do you even want from me? I already danced with you! I even let you just… touch me like…” Husk could barely speak, but he glared at the Radio Demon with all the rage and humiliation he felt deep within whatever he had left of his soul. “I know you get off to this shit!”

The demon leaned in close. The sight of it was compressing, losing full shape, covered over with black marks and strange symbols that he had never understood. Antlers grew and took shape, their sharp points reaching out to Husk like an embrace. But, they stopped just short of his face, just over his eyes, making him terrified to even blink.

In corrupted static, the music garbled and off-key, Alastor whispered. “And so do you.”

Husk’s grip on the chain loosened. He gritted his teeth. Fuck. This was it. He was going to die, with his agony broadcasted all over Hell.

Another quick pull, and Husk lost his grip completely. The shadow from behind him had grasped at his wings, stinging in the pain as tendons snapped like twine, and suddenly he couldn’t extend them anymore. Another avenue of possible escape, already taken away from him.

Then he was pulled forward again to the real Alastor, a hand grasping his own, fingers interlaced. Husk trembled. Would the Radio Demon start by breaking his hands, going through each limb slowly until he couldn’t even move anymore?

Alastor pulled taut on the chain once more, straining the metal. But they would never break, no matter how much Husk wished for it. It was close to his face, and he wondered if Alastor was going to bound and gag him, burn off his tongue, so that his screams would have no words.

That is not what happened.

Instead, Alastor took the chain and wrapped it carefully, almost delicately around their clasped hands. Husk grimaced at the touch, burning yet freezing all at once. Alastor showed change in emotion at all. Still smiling wide, the antlers retracted back like tentacles. The discordant melody shifted back to harmonious, no longer warped and out of tune. The record played, undisturbed.

Husk blinked. His eyes moved to their hands, tied together by the chain, before going back to Alastor. “What…are you doing?”

A hand reached for his back, pulled him close until his nose was pressed against the front of Alastor’s suit. A finger pushed against a suspender in what could have been seen as playful, and a thumb rubbed circles into the fur, searching for the skin beneath.

“You’re just lovely when you dance,” Alastor said so softly, just against his ear. The teeth nipped just so slightly, tugging at his fur, at him. Husk shook, and he wasn’t sure if it was entirely from fear. “And the night is still so young.”

His wings still ached from the sudden clipping of his feathers, and his hand was half-burned from the links pressed against his fur. Even so, he didn’t step back. He felt his feet just almost leave the floor, their bodies pushed even closer than before in the hotel lobby.

He didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

And he even used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Husk’s body felt like a rag doll, pushed and pulled to go wherever his owner wanted. The chain kept them bound, even if it was already connected to his neck. In the quiet of his room, they slow danced to what had once been one of Husk’s favorite songs as it played in its vintage soundscape.

It was nothing new at all. In fact, it was very much the usual. The playing of an old ballad or a jazz rendition when Alastor was near him. The subtle brushing of knuckles against his own when walking by. A quick pat over his head. A tug of his ears, done so lightly that Husk sometimes wondered if it was imagination. A patting of the shoulder, the hand lingering just a moment too long. A finger rushing down his side. Even a delicate pull of his tail. After all, Alastor would tell him, it was just so very soft.

Husk had pushed back at first. He had groused and cursed, hating to be ridiculed. He still did so now, like the fucking genius that he was, the current pain in his wings reminding him with glee.

Sometimes, Alastor would laugh and be on his way. Other times, not so much.

Husk forgot that he couldn’t pick his battles—for there was none he could win.

He gritted his teeth, letting his body be swayed, shivering at the hot breaths along his neck. The dim lights of his room swam in his vision, and soon, he was falling more against Alastor, pulled in by warmth that could turn scalding at any moment.

(Perhaps dancing was what cured the loneliness, in a way. He really was pathetic.)

He looked to their joined hands, engulfed in green that seemed all encompassing. Then he stepped in something wet, tracking it in the carpet. Too apathetic to the thought that they were dancing out patterns with his own blood.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening,” sang Alastor, in that same recorded voice. But also, Husk could hear Alastor’s own, as if the demon was singing along in his own private booth for his loyal listeners. “Can't think of anything I'd rather do.”

Husk breathed carefully, letting himself fall quiet. When he made his deal, he was never promised he’d understand the Radio Demon or his motivations. He knew, in the end, that he didn’t want to anyway.

The night blurred, until the pain had all but numbed, and their song was all he could hear.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #husk #radiohusk #fanfiction #one shot

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dianneking · 3 months

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Happy Birthday, Blondie - Larissa/Melissa

Hello hello! For the first week of Back on The Writing Horse (you can find the original post and masterlist here) I am using prompt 2553 by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

"Are you going to just spend the day alone?"

"That's what I do most days. It doesn't make a difference to me."

Thank you to @scream-queenlover for picking that prompt out for me and making this lovely cover art to go with the fic, as well as the closing one.

Fandom: Wednesday (2022) and Abott Elementary Characters: Larissa Weems / Melissa Schemmenti Tags: Friendly banter, Dare I say it's fluff? (it's fluff), Food, Mentions of skipping meals. Words: 1497

Happy Birthday, Blondie (link to AO3)

…Kind regards

Larissa Weems, principal of Nevermore Academy.

Larissa sighed in relief after clicking the send button on the latest email. Today had been quite the whirlwind of phone calls, emails and meetings, and it was still only lunchtime, who knew what the afternoon would entail. She closed her eyes, massaging her temples to try and stave off the tension headache she was starting to feel building up. She loved her job, and she loved Nevermore, but there was just something about this sort of days that really took a lot out of her.

The door to her study chose that moment to slam open, noisily hitting the cabinet at the end of its run. “Well, if it isn’t our principal caught dozing off at work!”

There was only one person in Nevermore who had the guts to barge into Larissa’s office unannounced and insult her work ethic at the same time. Larissa refused to give her the satisfaction of opening her eyes.

“What is it, Melissa?”

“Oi! At least look at me when you sigh my name. That’s a privilege not many people have, if you usurp it, I’ll have you move back to using Miss Schemmenti.”

“And we wouldn’t want that.” Larissa deadpanned. But she did crack open her eyes. The fiery head of her coworker was almost too bright in the sunlight that streamed in from the tall windows of her office.

“For sure not today of all days!” The smug grin on Melissa’s face told Larissa that the redhead knew she had won this round. Damn it.

“And what’s so special about today?” Asked Larissa petulantly.

“Are ya kidding me, Blondie?” Melissa looked at her as if she expected some sort of trick from her. Or a smart remark. That was their thing after all. A constant banter, prodding at each other trying to find the right button to push to make the other concede a point in their match of wits.

Larissa liked that. She had been too used to people in awe of her, or too scared of her power (both the political one and the actual shapeshifting) to pose much of a challenge for her. When Melissa joined Nevermore, Larissa had at first balked at what she had perceived as blatant disrespect from the latest addition to staff. But after a while a sort of understanding had formed between the two women, a sort of mutual recognition of kindred spirits (aided by a couple of heart-to-hearts brought along by copious amounts of wine, but they didn’t talk about those too much).

Melissa must have read that she was still missing the point, because she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, as if to ask the heavens to grant her patience, and strode forward to place a cafeteria tray on Larissa’s desk. Larissa blinked at the plates: on one, a heaping portion of lasagna that looked way too good to be standard Nevermore fare, and on the second, bigger plate, a whole chocolate cake, complete with a dripping layer of decadent ganache and a wonky writing that recited: Are you a natural blonde or did you dye for attention?

Larissa tried to avoid drooling at the sight, while her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had skipped breakfast, again, this morning.

“Happy birthday, Blondie.”

Oh. Was it today? Larissa could’ve sworn today was still Thursday and her birthday wasn’t until…

…her eyes fell on the stylish calendar perched on the side of her desk.

Friday, February 16th.

Whoops.

“You can’t be serious. You had to check the calendar to be sure it was your birthday?”

“No!” Larissa lied quickly. “I just hmm…I wanted to check something, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure, whatever makes you sleep at night. Eat up, you don’t want my lasagna to get cold.”

Larissa picked up the fork. That was Melissa’s cooking. That’s why it looked – and smelled! – so absolutely divine.

“Thank you by the way, you didn’t have to.”

“Oh please. We both know that you skip more lunches than the ones you actually eat. At least on your birthday you should enjoy some good cooking.”

Larissa dipped her fork into the lasagna, inclining it sideways to slice a bite off of it and scooping it up to bring it to her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss as she chewed. It was an explosion of flavors and textures, perfectly balanced and delicious in every aspect. The fullness of the meat, the tangy and yet sweet tomato sauce, the sheets of pasta cooked to perfection, all enveloped by the smooth embrace of the bechamel sauce…it wasn’t just a lasagna, it was a masterpiece.

“Wow.” Was the only word that she could form before she dove back in.

She heard Melissa’s throaty chuckle, and knew without raising her eyes that there was another self-satisfied smile adorning her lips. Well, Larissa could allow her this one. The lasagna was really something else.

They sat in silence for some time while Larissa ate, Melissa having slouched in one of the armchairs in front of Larissa’s desk, as perfectly at ease as if she was in her own living room, before the redhead spoke conversationally.

“You know, I am glad I dropped by at lunch break, so I managed to remind you in time to get ready for whatever you have planned tonight. Not attending your own birthday party would be kinda lame.”

Larissa took her time swallowing the bite before she replied.

“Oh, that’s kind of you, but I don’t have anything planned for tonight. Just a quiet evening in, you know?” Actually, the more this conversation went on, the more Larissa was looking forward to curling up on her couch with a bottle of wine and some good music. Maybe read a bit, too? She almost didn’t remember the plot to the novel she was reading, so long it had been since she last had time to open it. Was that lame? She had just turned 46, she was allowed to wallow a bit and not go out and celebrate if she didn’t feel like it. Right?

“Oh come on. You’re not gonna spend your birthday evening here in your office, are you?”

“Why not? It’s a very nice study, I spent years decorating it just like I want to.”

“Yeah of course. I mean what’s a better birthday companion than a stuffed raven, after all? But seriously, Larissa,” Melissa’s tone turned serious, and the fact that she used her first name instead of a ridiculous nickname signaled that this was not a question Larissa could brush off flippantly, “are you really going to just spend the day alone?"

"That's what I do most days. It doesn't make a difference to me." Larissa shrugged, cleaning the last bit of lasagna sauce off the plate with the side of her fork. She had never been a huge fan of birthdays anyway.

“Absolutely not! I will not allow that.”

“I…beg your pardon?”

“You may beg all you want but you won’t get out of this. Be all ready and dolled up at six this evening. I might not have as many resources here in Vermont but the ex-husband of my second cousin owns the most disreputable dive bar in Williston. We’re going.”

“Melissa, there’s no need to…”

“No no. You misunderstand. This was not a question. You’ll be coming with me to party on your birthday night whether you like it or not, Miss Weems. And you’ll have the time of your life doing so.”

Larissa met her eyes, her bright green eyes looking up at Larissa as if challenging her to disagree, and all it did was make a lovely warmth spread in the taller woman’s chest. She shook her head, an exasperated smile climbing to her lips.

“Alright, alright, you stubborn woman. You win. We’ll go celebrate my old age at your shady bar. But you’re offering the first round.”

“Ha! As if I’d let the birthday lady pay for her own drinks! I’ll have you know that my nonna raised me properly!”

They made eye contact across the desk, blue meeting green with an intensity that was new and warm and exciting. Larissa tried to convey in that gaze how much Melissa’s actions meant to her. Not just the cake and the birthday wishes. Hell, not even the invite to go out together. It was the fact that Melissa was there for Larissa in a way nobody had been in a very long time.

“Thank you, Melissa.” She said, frustrated at herself for being unable to say more, and yet charging those two simple words with all those untold things.

She was able to see the blush crawling up the other woman’s cheeks at her gratitude, and couldn’t help but think how adorable it made Melissa look. Clearly embarrassed, the redhead ran a hand through her locks and spoke in a gruff voice.

“So are you just gonna stare or are you gonna try the cake?”

The End

For anyone wondering, this is loosely in the same universe as my other Larissa/Melissa fic, New Teacher In Town. You can find more of my fics in my masterlist

Next fic in the challenge >

#larissa weems #melissa schemmenti #larissa weems x melissa schemmenti #larissa/melissa #larissa weems fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #abbott elementary #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie fanfiction #lisa ann walter #lisa ann walter fanfiction #gwendoline christie #dianneking fanfiction #dragonmist fanfiction #dianneking writes

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depressopax · 4 months

Text

No strings attached - Nacho x gn!reader

Fandom - Better call Saul

Pairing: Ignacio “Nacho” Varga x gender neutral reader Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, smut Warning(s): Sexual content. Nacho angst lmao, cuss words, situationships, kinda cheesy ngl, reader is gender neutral with they/them pronouns. Words: 1.3K Summary: Nacho realizing that he’s fallen in love with his FWB English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 AO3 link

You collapse in bed next to Nacho, both of you panting for air after the intense orgasms. After laying next to him, sweaty but comfortable on the soft mattress you take out your phone.

It's 1AM and even though you said you’d come over to Nacho’s place for a quickie, you’ve been here for three hours now. As you hold your phone, he puts a soft hand on your back, and soon you feel him leaving kisses - both soft and aggressive ones - on your neck.

You close the phone again and look at him with a smirk. It looks like he’s about to say something, but seeing you leaving bed, he closes his mouth again. When getting dressed in front of the mirror, Nacho lays down in the bed, staring in awe to get another glimpse of your naked skin which is covered in hickeys. He’s smug with knowing he’s the reason behind them. It almost hurts, watching you cover up and get dressed in the same clothes he tossed on the floor earlier.

“I was thinking…”

He starts. You look into the mirror, smiling when noticing Nacho’s intense stare at you. He’s not very discreet when it comes to admiring you. Turning around, you meet his dark eyes and are surprised when he looks away. His lower body is covered by the thin white sheets, and he fidgets with the fabric, like he’s trying to think of something to say.

“...Yes?”

“Maybe you could stay…?”

You freeze in the process of taking the jeans on and realize what he just asked.

“Nacho…-”

“I know, I know… ‘No strings attached’”

He sounds… Irritated?

“Do I need to remind you those were your words?”

“Just forget it.”

He hisses. You stare at him, not quite understanding what's going on.

“...Fine.” You pull up the zipper and then put on the socks and shoes, feeling his eyes watching your every step, but not with warmth. “Goodnight then, Nacho.”

He grunts in reply, pulling the sheets up and then shutting the only light source in the room. You leave his apartment, confused with what just happened.

Nacho stares at his phone, reading all stupid conversations between you and him, every flirtatious message, and all the arguments over text. He has known you for almost 2 years.

There was always a spark between the two of you, and you fell hard, but Nacho never fell harder.

Despite the one sided attraction, he ended up in your bed one night after you both had too many drinks, and since then you’ve been “friends with benefits”.

He couldn't really complain, he got to sleep with you - one of his closest friends - with no strings attached.

No relationship, no promises and no jealousy.

It sounded perfect. It was perfect.

But perfect is just an illusion.

“What are we?” You asked that one night, still panting from how good he fucked you. It was the question that was the beginning of the downfall. You expected it, but his reply still shattered your heart. He pulled out of you and laid down in bed. The seconds it took for him to reply felt like hours.

“I dunno. Why?”

You laid down beside him. All you wanted was to curl up next to him, but you didn’t.

“I mean… We do got some sexual tension”

“That’s why we fucked.” He chuckled but your silence soon filled the room. “You ok?”

“Yeah.”

But the truth is you weren’t ok. You felt ashamed. The shot of confidence the vodka provided is leaving your body. You pull the blanket over your naked body, waiting for him to say something. Still, you’re the first to talk.

“I like you.”

The sigh from him still echoes in your mind to this day. Ouch.

“I like you as a friend.”

A friend. Friend. You felt like laughing and crying, instead you nodded.

“So… This meant nothing?”“Of course it did!” He sat up and moved closer to you. Silly as it was, you looked the other way when the blanket fell off his naked body. “Listen… We have a good connection. I like being around you. And well… I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”

“So what…? Friends with benefits?”

“Is that ok for you?”

“Yes.” You replied. Back then, you didn’t realize it was a lie.

“No strings attached. We can just have a good time, yea?”

You forced yourself to smile at his words.

The two of you slept together regularly. You always wanted more, but Nacho didn’t. At least you got to be close to him and be in his strong embrace. It went on for four months.

But nothing lasts forever.

We good?

Nacho waits nervously for your response to his messages. It’s been an hour since you left his place and he’s wide awake in bed. He is still beating himself up for fucking up. Not only tonight, but for the four months he’s had sex with you.

No strings attached.

He scoffs at his own words.

“How could I be so stupid?”

It was a way to protect himself and protect you from the dangerous life he’s living. He’s been scared to let someone in, especially you. You’re his best friend, after all. He could never forgive himself if you ended up hurt in any way.

But holding you in his arms, feeling your body under his weight as he fucks you, and having you in his bed afterwards… He wants more.

Not only the sex, no… He wants you to be his, to have you close at all times, every day. He wants to take you on dates and be the reason you smile. He cusses and rubs his temple.

“They hate you.”

He mutters. The bedroom feels so cold and empty, and the feeling of loneliness suddenly overwhelms him.

The next day, you’re sitting down on the couch watching a movie, when there’s a knock on the door.

“Nacho-”

“Can we talk?”

You back away from the door, allowing him to enter the apartment. He looks so good it hurts. You watch him hang off the black leather-jacket, revealing the white t-shirt underneath. Without a word he walks to the living room and sinks into your couch. There’s an awkward tension between the two of you, replacing the usual sexual tension.

“I was a jerk yesterday”

“Yea.” It surprises you, to hear your stubborn friend apologize and admit he was wrong. “You were. Why?”

“To protect myself.”

“...From?”

You sit down next to him, sensing how anxious he feels. His voice is almost desperate as he replies.

“I like you.”

There. He said it. He mentally prepares for your rejection.

“As a friend?” You ask with a sarcastic undertone. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“More.”

As he reaches for your hands, you hold them out for him, shocked by how tenderly he grabs them. Nacho intertwines fingers with you, bringing your knuckles to his lips. A shiver runs down your spine.

“What happened to ‘No strings attached’?” You ask, and Nacho grunts in reply.

“Fuck that shit.” His grip on your hands tightens and you see him holding back tears. “I’m in love with you.”

Great. Now you’re gonna cry too.

“I’m in love with you too.” He doesn’t reply, but stares at you, processing the words. With a smile, you repeat the words. “I’m in love with yo-”

Your words are interrupted when his lips almost crash together with yours.

This time when having sex, Nacho takes his time with you. He moves in and out of you slowly, making you feel every inch of him. He makes you scream his name over and over, worshiping you and your body. You climax together and afterwards, he grabs your hips and pulls you close.

“Stay.” He demands.

You smile at him, melting into his embrace.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

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elvisabutler · 11 months

Text

love and hate in equal measure

fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: future austin butler x female reader ( nicknamed dove ) word count: 2974 warnings: asshole austin. the normal warnings that apply with the dove verse, so daddy kink, choking, bdsm, but this time make it not good bdsm practices. a dom arguably abandoning a sub post scene ( even if they don't acknowledge it as such ). hatesex. degradation. use of whore, slut, bitch, and cunt to refer to someone. potential abuse of the legal system to gain custody. p in v sex ( protected via birth control ). female masturbation. spitting on someone. dubious-ish consent but not quite? former pregnancy. author’s note: welcome to day 5 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, degradation kink with austin butler x female reader ( referred to as dove ) this requires a slight explanation this is basically an offshoot/what can be considered a bad ending au of the little dove verse set about 2025ish? if anyone's been around for a while, this was/is a part of a fic i referred to in tags as love and hate in equal measure. y'all have basically @eliseinmemphis to really thank for this one. @butlersxbirdy has a partial hand in the bits after this this but this really kind of spewed from me once telling elise that i had scrapped an plan for the little dove verse where she had been pregnant and hid it until cannes and well pair that with elise's love of asshole austin and me liking hatesex and well. you get this. heed the warnings, austin is a fucking dick in this. as always thanks to my discord wives, christi, birdy and marina and my besties who keep having to listen to me whine about life.

If anyone were to ever ask how or why you and Austin fell as fast as you did and did has many stupid things as you did, well you'd like to blame the pandemic. You'd like to blame it on how you hadn't wanted to leave the man your brain had latched onto as Daddy. Perhaps a replacement for Père but it had felt fine in the moment. He had given you that same warm feeling Père had and yet somehow things had gotten so twisted between the two of you. Those lines that should have never been blurred were nonexistent by the time you were in the middle of shooting. You were Priscilla but you were Austin's Little Dove. He was Elvis but he was your Daddy. The good parts of Elvis were already a part of Austin's DNA but those parts that weren't good— that temper and that possessiveness and the parts that coveted Priscilla and wanted— no those parts had soured him. He was not Elvis in the ways that wrapped everything in a tidy bow, you figured. It's why you were on the first flight out of Australia that you could and it's why when the day your period was supposed to come came and went you didn't tell him. Even as your belly swelled with life because you were so selfish that you wanted something— anything— to remind you of what Austin and you had shared. You wanted to be reminded that you were his Little Dove once upon a time and that he was the best Daddy you could have ever hoped for. It's why until that fateful misstep at Cannes and his vicious and unyielding frustration and anger at you for hiding your child away from him you had used her as a reminder of your love.

The thing was, that had never been the plan if you had gotten pregnant, and yet here you had stood almost ready to pop with a baby he put inside of you. The ensuing sex was admittedly on you had been missing, one you had been craving as your hormones had ramped up and made you pine for Austin and the way he would rip orgasms from you even as you were overstimulated. It was everything after that was a mess. It was how you didn't come to Budapest and how you gave birth to your daughter alone. It was in how Austin showed a side to him you never thought was possible. How he murmured in your ear about how Elvis had lost his divorce and how Austin would avenge him with this custody agreement. You could claim all you want that Loretta wasn't his, but DNA didn't lie. A 50/50 split is what they granted but he was the primary custody holder. After all, he was older, and he was in a better position than you.

Except you both have complicated jobs that take you out of the country and sometimes the 50/50 is more like 60/40 depending on who's filming what and right now you're the one booked outside of the country for what promises to be a fairly long shoot. It means Austin gets her and it means you have to drop her off where he's filming in Canada. What you don't expect is a snowstorm to trap you for multiple days and for every hotel to be booked solid to where you had to ask Austin if you could stay with him.

"Aren't you lucky there's a guest bedroom?" He smirked after you asked as if you hadn't accidentally fallen into bed with him more than once during handoffs like this. As if the thought of his body keeping you warm at night didn't make your toes curl and have your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You remembered saying something sarcastic in response and watching as his head tilted in a way that usually spelled you being pressed up against a wall before you both heard your daughter's voice and turned to face her.

For all people argue that kids can be a bit of a cockblock sometimes with how they need to be all in your business, you can't help but be thankful for Loretta's interruptions throughout the day even as Austin's gaze turned dark more than once and you got a workout with your thighs from clenching them so hard. She has to go to bed sometimes and you are left with your thoughts in the guest bedroom. It's far enough away that Austin shouldn't be able to hear you if you do anything and yet there's a part of you that worries.

You don't know why, it's not any of Austin's business if you want to touch yourself, if you want to play with yourself in his guest bedroom. You're a grown woman and he's a grown man, just because you had been together once upon a time didn't mean that he had any say it what you did now. He was just Austin Butler, father of your daughter, not Austin Butler, your Daddy. Your Daddy who would take such good care of you, who would be next to you right now, his hands gliding across your skin, teasing you and wrenching sighs and gasps from your lips before he had even properly touched you.

It's been happening more frequently, your fantasies drifting to Austin and what the two of you had during the filming of Elvis. You'd think after almost four years you wouldn't but maybe it's the fact that like two magnets you and Austin always seem to be drawn together. You hate him, hate what he's done to your life and how he couldn't simply just let you run off with Loretta into the sunset. Yet, you love him in almost equal measure and it's so infuriating to love someone who you left willingly. It's infuriating to know that Austin doesn't feel the same way, how could he after you had hid your daughter until you were so far along that you really shouldn't have been at Cannes. How could he after you tried to keep her from him after she was born. No, your frequent incidents of falling into bed with one another were merely a consequence of knowing each other intimately and craving someone who you don't have to teach how to pleasure you.

You can't sleep, the throbbing between your legs a constant thump thump thump that has you on edge until you finally find your hand drifting in between them. A shudder runs through you as you part your folds, your fingers sliding in with an ease that has your body heating up in embarrassment. Had you been that turned on this entire time? Even after your shower somehow your body couldn't key itself down and remind itself that you did not need Austin. That you shouldn't be aroused by Austin still and yet the proof was covering your fingers.

The one thing Austin had always asked of you— well one of many things— is that you showed how much you enjoyed his ministrations through how loud you were. You were supposed to never hold back, he wanted to hear you as he watched your eyes roll in the back of your head, watched your skin bruise from his teeth and his hands and— how you sought out and were given such pleasure from him. You know you should be quiet, God do you know, but it feels wrong biting your lip nearly so hard it feels like it's about to bleed to keep quiet. Your mind wishes your teeth were Austin's for a flash and that's what has you opening your mouth in a wordless cry that shifts into a loud moan.

You shouldn't be masturbating, shouldn't be rubbing circles against your clit and trying to curl your fingers inside of you and yet here you were. You were doing just that and being louder than you ever should be while doing it, praying and hoping that Austin wouldn't hear your whimpers of his name and cries for Daddy, please. If only— if only things were different you could still be sharing his bed and your shared daughter would be in her room and Austin— Daddy— would take care of you.

What you didn't know— what you were blissfully unaware of— was that Austin was walking by the guest bedroom door the moment he heard you cry out Daddy, please. It stops him dead in his tracks, thinking his mind is playing tricks on him because there's no— you couldn't be saying that and if you were, who were you imagining as Daddy. He should move, should will his feet to walk past the door but then he hears his name whimpered as he's heard so many times before and his cock that had been showing just a small bit of attention to your actions stands at attention. You were crying out for him.

His hand hovers above the doorknob, debating if he truly wants to open the door and see you spread out on the guest bed playing with yourself. Seeing that would be different than how you fall into bed with him, so fucking needy and aching for his cock even as you spit vitriol at him. No, this would be practically intimate in a soft way that you haven't been to each other since before Loretta was even a group of cells growing inside you. Except perhaps he could shift this into something harsher, something that you two are more familiar with now.

So enraptured in the feel of your fingers against your clit and your other hand wrapped around your throat, trying to mimic that press of your old collar against it, your ears don't register the creaking of the door and Austin's presence until you hear his voice sneering at you while shutting the door.

"What makes you think you're good enough to think of me when you're touching yourself?"

Your eyes shoot open and panic wraps itself around your heart even as your cunt twitches at his voice, practically winking at him in the most inviting manner it can manage.

"I— I— Austin. Get out of here," you stutter out, embarrassment flooding your system even as your body is still so aroused and keyed up. "This isn't—"

"What it looks like? Because I see you with your hand between your legs crying out for Daddy," his eyes rake down your body as he moves closer to the bed. "Haven't called me that in four years. Missing me, babe?"

There's something in the way he's mocking you that has your body on edge in the same way fucking him in anger does. You may feel shame but it's invigorating all the same. You open your mouth to speak before Austin shushes you.

"Little greedy whores who are aching for someone they claim to hate don't get to talk. Little selfish whores don't get to talk."

You shut your mouth once, twice, three times before, "make me shut up then, Austin. Fucking pervert, watching me like—"

The words in your mouth are stopped by a keen as Austin hand winds itself into your hair and yanks just a little, "I said don't fucking talk. Fucking greedy little selfish sluts don't get to do that." His other hand drifts down between your legs and swats at your hand. "You're not doing it right. You know better, whore."

You know better because of every time you had touched yourself with him in a chair like he was Elvis Presley watching his woman play with yourself but also like your Daddy was watching his Little Dove. Your teeth pull in your lower lip before you try and grab at his hand only to be swatted again like errant pet.

"I'll tie you up if you don't behave. You wanted me here, your cunt is twitching for me. Don't fucking move. Or are you too dumb to listen?"

Shame fills you even as you feel a bit of your arousal drip onto his fingers. You should defend yourself like always, bite back with something vicious and end up pinned to a wall or caged up against it but this time your throat seems to have dried up and you can't do it. A shake of your head is the only response you manage.

"Aw, the little bitch can listen. After everything I thought you forgot how. I'd be proud of you but you're just doing this because you're so desperate for Daddy's cock. Missed calling me that, didn't you? Missed getting choked by me, haven't you? Miss that little collar your selfish little self left behind?" He can see your face shift to one of faint sadness and sees a few unshed tears in your eyes and he laughs. "Are you gonna cry? Dove. You did this to yourself."

"Fuck off." You spit in Austin's face only to be rewarded or punished with his hand gripping your neck and squeezing.

"I should leave you like this. But I'm nice even to you. You don't deserve it but I'm the sweetest Daddy you ever had, remember?"

He's right and you hate the fact that he is. Even nowadays when you fuck in anger it doesn't change the fact that he would take care of you and that he could be so much more rough with you. You shouldn't say the words that come out of your mouth next but you can't help it.

"You were, now you're just an psychotic ass—" Austin's hand lightly slaps your cheek before spitting on it.

"Says the cunt who hid our daughter from me. Let me miss out on her whole pregnancy and her birth. Don't kid yourself. You're worse than me. At least I can get another woman? Can your slutty little hole get another man? Or are you stuck in bed trying to please yourself every night?"

You want to retort, you want to tell him it's his fault you can't get someone else, that the knowledge that he could paint you as even less capable of taking care of Loretta if you slept around keeps you from doing just that. But you look in his eyes and see the mocking gaze and it disintegrates the thought.

Austin's lips curl up into a smirk at your silence and he laughs as he watches your hands move to his pants. He wants to mock you more, wants to make sure you know how much you're acting like a desperate bitch in heat but he doesn't. Your silence tells him he's already done his job. What he does do is slap away your hands only to grab at least one and pin it above your head. He doesn't bother to grab the other one but you were obedient enough back in the day and you're aching so badly, you're so wet that he knows you'll do what you're told even if it's not said out loud. After a moment of undoing his own pants and kicking his legs out of them he climbs on top of you and moves to choke you just slightly again as he pushes into you. Your mouth opens in a wordless cry.

"Don't be shy now. You know I like you loud when you're this desperate," he groans, trying to maintain a haughty disposition but finding it downright impossible as your cunt clenched around him. "Did you get work done? Don't remember it being so tight down here."

You shake your head against the pillow as you glare at Austin, only to have him grab your chin so you look at him. "Already fucking cock drunk. Pathetic."

The last word is practically spit out and you can feel a few drops of it against your skin, earning a whine from you. Austin's pace is brutal, practically treating you like a sex doll— a fact he murmurs against your skin as he sucks hickies along your neck that you know are going to be a pain to cover up. You try to bite your lips to keep yourself from whimpering and groaning and making every noise you know he wants to hear but you can't help it even as he coos about you being so desperate against your ear. Your orgasm slams into you as you claw at Austin's back and as your legs try to wrap around his waist. A hiss leaves his mouth as your nails leave red welts against his skin and he moves to pull out only to hear you whine a low no.

Your eyes are shut but if they were open you would have seen something in Austin's gaze soften at the no. All you're aware of is how his thrusts speed up somehow until you feel them becoming ever so slightly jerky and Austin— Austin doesn't pull out, instead choosing to come inside you in a way he hasn't in years. You're still on birth control but your eyes shoot open at the sensation of his warm come inside of you. He pulls out quickly, watching as your cunt twitches and sees his release drip out of you. You look utterly debauched and yet it stirs something inside of him that he doesn't dare put a name to. Instead he rolls his eyes, pulling on his boxers and pants in one go.

He heads to the door and opens it, but before he leaves he looks back to your panting form and frowns, "go clean yourself up."

This wasn't a scene and you both know it wasn't and yet that simple order, that simple request has you in the shower as soon as he leaves and has you sleeping your best sleep since you left him all those years ago.

Austin doesn't sleep that night.

taglist: none because i'm mildly nervous about this one ( if the late posting time didn't clue y'all in ) and everyone can get mad at me later.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x priscilla actress reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler smut #love and hate in equal measure #little dove series #dove series #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler angst #ally's wet hot smut summer #ally writes #( idk do i need all these tags. meh who knows. )

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gcthvile · 4 months

Text

A shoulder to lean on

Pairing: Rei Stark x Peter Parker

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: When Rei Stark loses his beloved mother to illness, he shuts down completely - withdrawing from school, friends, and the outside world. Tormented by his grief and loss, Rei walls himself off behind closed doors, shutting even his best friend Peter Parker out of his spiral into despair.

warnings: none

When his mother first fell ill, Rei threw himself into finding a cure. He spent every waking moment in the lab, searching for anything that could help her. But as her condition deteriorated, so did his hope.

The day she slipped away was the day everything went dark. Rei stumbled home in a daze, collapsing at her bedside. He didn't move for hours, even as the medics came to take her away. His world had ended.

In the following days, FRIDAY tried to get him to eat, sleep, see others—to take care of himself. But Rei was non-responsive. He just sat numbed by grief, replying only in monosyllables.

When Peter came by that first week, worried but wanting to comfort his friend, all FRIDAY would say was that Rei wasn't accepting visitors. Peter left dejected, anxiety growing by the day with no word from Rei.

The weeks dragged on and Rei faded further. He stopped leaving his room, stopped going to classes or returning calls and texts. His father stopped by in between missions, but Rei barely acknowledged him. Numbness was his only escape from the unrelenting pain.

Tony entered Rei's darkened room without knocking, concern etched on his face. "Rei, we need to talk."

Rei didn't look up from where he sat huddled in the corner. "Go away," he muttered.

But Tony stood firm. "I can't do that, kid. It's been over a month and you're not getting any better. You have to start taking care of yourself."

"What's the point?" said Rei flatly. "Nothing matters anymore."

Tony's voice rose in frustration. "Of course it matters! Your life matters, your future - do you think your mother would want to see you wasting away like this?"

Rei flinched at the mention of his mother but still didn't look up. "Don't pretend you understand. You never loved anyone like I loved her."

"Maybe not," snapped Tony. "But I'm your father and it's killing me to see you doing this to yourself! If you don't start eating, sleeping, acting like a human again, I'll have no choice but to commit you for treatment."

That got Rei's attention. His head shot up, eyes blazing with anger through his grief. "You can't do that!"

"I can and I will if it saves your life!" countered Tony. "You're not the only one who lost her, Rei. Please, just let me help you." His voice cracked with emotion.

Rei hesitated, some of the fight draining from him at the raw concern in his father's eyes. Slowly, he nodded. "Okay. I'll...I'll try. For you." Tony sagged in relief. "Thank you. It's a start." Rei knew he had to pull himself back to functioning, even just for appearances. But internally, he still felt hollow. Going through the motions of school brought him no relief or joy.

Seeing Peter's familiar face in the crowd was almost too much. Guilt weighed on him for worrying his friend for so long with no contact. Yet he never dared to approach.

The walk through the halls to class was agonizing. Rei felt every eye on him as whispers and stares followed in his wake. He hunched into himself, hoping to disappear while also wishing for a reason to lash out.

Inside the classroom was even worse. All the familiar faces looked at him with shared sadness and unasked questions. He could practically hear their thoughts: Was he okay? What happened? How could they help?

But no one dared approach, sensing his fragile state. Good—he wasn't ready for their pity or platitudes yet. Just being there amongst them all felt oppressive, reminding him of the life he had before...before.

Rei took his seat and stared numbly at his desk, tuning out the review lecture he'd already long since learned. His gaze drifted unseeing as vacant memories played on repeat in his head: lazy afternoons in the lab with his mom, her laugh, the way her eyes would crinkle at the corners...

A sting started behind his eyes but he blinked it back furiously. No more tears—he was done with that. From then on it was just...nothing. Blessed numbness to get him through each endless day.

When the bell finally freed him, Rei rushed from the room, wanting only to be alone. To escape back into the dark sanctuary of his mind where he didn't have to feel anything anymore.

In the empty corridor, Peter stood firm, hands on his hips as Rei tried to brush past.

"Oh no you don't," said Peter fiercely. "You're not avoiding this anymore. What's going on with you?"

Rei kept walking. "Nothing. Leave me alone."

Peter grabbed his arm, spinning him around. "That's bullshit and you know it! You disappear for over a month without a word and then show up looking like a corpse? Tell me what's wrong, Rei."

Rei wrenched his arm free. "It's none of your business!"

"The hell it isn't!" cried Peter. "I care about you, you idiot! I've been worried sick!"

"Well don't bother," snapped Rei. "No one can help me, okay? Just stay out of it!"

"Not a chance," growled Peter. "Not until you talk to me. You're my best friend - please, let me in."

His voice cracked with frustration and concern, eyes begging Rei to drop his walls. Rei faltered under that earnest gaze, feeling his resolve crumble, but all he could do was snap at his friend at the moment, "It's my mom, okay?! She died, Peter. She fucking died. And I couldn't save her." Rei's voice broke on the last words as fresh tears rose.

Instantly Peter's anger dissolved into sympathy. "Oh Rei, I'm so sorry." He pulled the other boy into a hug as Rei finally lost the battle and began to sob.

He held Rei tight, letting him grieve. "You don't have to do this alone," he murmured. "I'm here for you, always."

Rei gripped the back of Peter's shirt tightly as he cried, weeks of pent up grief pouring out of him. It felt like he was drowning in sorrow, but Peter's solid presence kept him tethered.

When the sobs finally subsided, Rei pulled back just enough to wipe his damp cheeks. Peter's hands moved to rub comforting circles on his back.

"I'm sorry," Rei mumbled, raw from emotion. "For....For shutting you out or whatever."

Peter chuckled softly and shook his head. "Don't apologize. I get why you did it, but that's over now, okay? No more shutting me out."

Rei nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He felt strangely lighter now that Peter knew his burden. But the memory of his loss was still fresh.

As if sensing his need for distraction, Peter took his hand gently. "Come on, let's go get some fresh air. Think you can handle the rest of the day?"

Rei hesitated, then nodded again. With Peter by his side, maybe facing the world wouldn't be so hard.

They walked in companionable silence, hands clasped tight between them. For the first time in weeks, rays of hope broke through Rei's storm clouds. He wasn't alone—and with Peter's support, maybe he could learn to heal.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!

@jackiequick @mallowbee4 @blueboirick @meiramel @missstrawbs2001 @gaminggirlsstuff

#oc post #oc rp #oc rpg #marvel #marvel roleplay #marvel oc #marvel x oc #rei stark #rei stark x peter parker

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pigtailedgirl · 2 months

Note

Now I'm curious how you got into due south originally, if you feel like explaining :)

Sure! It's nothing too exciting I guess, but my Dueser origins begin as a wee girl. I know my family must have vaguely watched it because I remember the image of All The Queen's Horses mountie chase pre-dates my series watch beginnings. I know my grandma later confessed as I had it on tv one summer that she watched it. Cause cute Benton Fraser lol.

But real seeing and watch began with a random catch of Free Willie one morning on the Showcase Network. Thank you kindly Showcase.

Yeah, I caught it one morning and stayed to watch because I think I vaguely recognized it, and just fell in love with it's charm and wit and Fraser and Ray. It was the first episode so great timing too. And they had it schedule set to air one episode in the morning, the same at night, five days a week. Perfect for catching up.

Promos were hilarious too. I should see if any are online.

Oh, and it was original edit, so it had extra scenes like the different Victoria's Secret ones.

So I caught up on the series quick. Also, what I think really cemented my season 1 and 2 love was they played that set for months at least before switching to the 3/4 season. That highlighted the difference in tone to my POV too I think, and it's why I kinda view them apart still.

But I really got to experience show first this way.

I think I found fandom when starting Livejournal same time the show hit resurgence there. And I happily caught the tail end of Yahoo Groups so got to back read fan stuff there. Missed most of Ray Wars. Yay. There was the 2000's snippets, but everyone was so fun at content creation and love, that was the best take-aways. It made for a great time. I participated in a watch-along! A big highlight of fannishness for me! That's when I saw The Pilot. Or my fav was squeeing about Pizza and Promises.

Just, some of the many wonderful fans like Nina_DS and movies_michelle and duenorthlaurie for episode discussion, and Sdwolfpup, Belmanoir, Aingeal8C as content creators, or Scotchsour, and Lozenger8 who made some banging icons....Truly, there were so many wonderful people, I couldn't even name them all. Due South provided so many wonderful glimpses of other fans to share with. LJ friends were so lovely.

I fell out in LJ world strangely cause I felt kinda outside the fandom wave as it crested I think, not shipping F/K or really loving those seasons as much. And just personally felt not into fannishness as whole after awhile. It's a me thing across everything, not just Due South. I took an internet break for a long time. I still watched the series on tv, with Showcase and TV Tropolis and DejaView lol, and by then DVD often. Along with new TV of course, although not much cause Tumblr me is not too different from old LJ me. Still kept an eye of forums, sometimes, or such, cause I love discussion as you can see by my screeds versus tech/creative skills, but not actively or with comment.

I return cause, I don't know, seeing people express love for the series again is hitting a happy place of nostaglia I think. I had a rough bout with real-life and comfort fannish stuff is reminding life was full of small good moments. The joy of the endearing nature of the show and the spirit of love for it in the fandom is proof of stuff enduring. Joy that it's still on rebranded Showcase here on the weekends lol, even if you never know which season.

And a new vidder made a wonderful F/V fanvid that, timing again as I hit Tumblr, I stumbled into, and just had me crying when I watched at the beauty and love I remembered in the pair. It spoke to my love of them so hard I think it jolted me into thinking hell yea that love deserves happy expression, I can do it too maybe. Sadly they took it down, but yeah, that was the spark, and that's me fannish story.

#due south #f/v #i guess #very long about lol #would love to hear others if willing

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

Note

okay i’ve been requesting this idea with other fandoms i’m in for a while and it’s not being done so i don’t know if they don’t want to write or or can’t figure out how to write it BUT…

you belong with me by t swift ♡ with our beloved freddie badlinu ♡

basically like reader got introduced to freddie by tommy and fell head over heels (definitely not me projecting /hj) but he just thinks of reader as a friend and eventually starts dating someone else yada yada i love this song

you don’t have to write it but i just love this idea (and song ♡)

-🦕 anon

OKG HI 🦕 ANON YES KF COURSE!! RJJSNSNSNS YESYESYES KM SO EXCITED FOR THIS, there's a lot of ts lyric references here bc I used the premise of ybwm but the feelings of her other songs iykwim; hopefully I did you justice with this and thank you SO MUCH for requesting Freddie bc I've been wanting to write for him again and I couldn't think of any good ideas LMFAO

BADLINU ; you belong with me

summary ; you're head over heels for Freddie, but he doesn't seem to feel the same way

warnings ; language

track ; you belong with me ; taylor swift

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

The day you'd met Freddie through Tommy five years ago, you instantly fell head over heels. You didn't know exactly why, but there was no hiding your feelings anymore, it was so hopelessly obvious, even to Tommy.

The blonde, your best friend, tried to set you guys up here and there, alas, with no luck.

At first, you were convinced you were getting that usual feeling where you kind of fixate on your friend until it disappeared, until it never really did. You talked with him constantly, learned more about him, and learned about the music he liked and his hobbies.

He had an infectious smile that could light up the whole town and a giggle to make you fall to your knees as you felt something in your stomach become fuzzy with a tossing and turning motion. You wonder what it must be like to grow up that beautiful, with his hair falling into place like dominoes, his eyes like sinking ships on waters, so inviting you want to jump in.

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love him, like he was a walking masterpiece. Not many people see him like how you do, his little imperfections and beauties.

You couldn't stop him putting roots in your little dreamland, your house of stone and his ivy grows, covering you in himself. You thought of him at every waking moment, catching yourself doing it frequently when you didn't mean too. If you saw or heard something that reminded you of him, it'd send a wave of dopamine through your brain, infecting you with the disease of happiness with a smile.

You remember him taking a bus to your house in the middle of the night, needing your comfort since you were still awake at that hour, and also the only person he felt safe talking to about what he was upset about it. You were the person to make him laugh when he was about to cry, the one to understand him on deeper levels than most, the one to know his story and his dreams.

Your viewers and fans would often ship you two, drawing fanart, writing fanfiction, and spamming y/s/n in chat whenever you had one of those moments. You streamed together whenever you could, and made YouTube videos frequently featuring each other.

You sat on your balcony at night together sometimes, star gazing.

He says "Look up"

Your shoulders brushed. No proof, one touch, but you felt enough. Enough for you, at least.

He keeps a picture of you two in his office at home downtown. It hangs on the wall with many other pictures of him with his friends. You thought you felt it in the silence and in the way home, with the lights out watching movies. But you seemed to be wrong.

Why couldn't he see that you were right there? Had the thought ever crossed his mind that maybe you loved him so much that maybe he belonged with you? Why couldn't he see that you were the one to understand him, who'd been there all along?

He found a girl he liked, and started officially dating her a month or two ago. After that, you'd never lost hope that maybe he'd see you, but within all the losing more and more hope, Tommy was there for you. He didn't exactly know how to comfort you, but reassured you that it was normal to feel this way, and that you'd move on with time.

You seemed to be the only person to not find love, you felt like you were cursed to be alone forever and watch the one person you truly loved go and love someone else. You couldn't move on, everything reminded you of him, every forest themed candle at the market, every pebble on the seaside, every star in the sky.

You knew he was happy at least, but you just wished that something inside of him would see that you were right there.

Over time, you distanced yourself, though wanting to remain friends with him. You just couldn't seem to see him without his girlfriend, and it hurt. Everytime you remembered that there was no point in trying, it broke your heart even more. It became so bad to the point that it was unhealthy, leading you to send him a text before leaving for a little trip to America.

It read 'Stay beautiful'.

You sent it just before getting on the plane, ridding you of any worry of receiving a message during the long flights. You'd only told Tommy and Tubbo that you were leaving, considering you streamed with them frequently and would probably be the first to notice you disappearing.

You decided a little trip to Folley Beach, South Carolina would be your therapy. Four thousand dollars for a week stay in a solid three star condo wasn't going to work, though. You had some connections, however, getting you a cheaper condo considering it was only you, and you'd be spending a month or two. Six thousand was much better than the probably forty thousand you'd have to pay for that, thank God. Yeah, maybe using your save-up-money wasn't the best idea, but you needed it at the moment.

Your mental health had been declining for a while, and you felt stupid for being so dramatic about the situation with Freddie. But, a trip to the beach and the opportunity to experience things you never had and make some content out of it wasn't something you'd pass up on.

From trying bubble tea to the fresh, clean, oceanside air, it was like a daydream. You took so many photos and videos, sending them to some friends and saving them for a video.

Trying all the food was amazing, which you probably gained a solid ten pounds from. The long walks along the island, down the beach, and down the graffiti road to the other side of the beach were sweltering hot but therapeutic to you.

Once you returned to the UK, opening your front door, you're surprised to see Tommy, Freddie, Tubbo, and Becky in your house, cleaning up for you. Tommy had a spare key to your place, which is probably how you got in. You were confused, but got a little uncomfortable seeing Freddie, especially without his girlfriend on a Sunday afternoon. You'd been gone for two months with nearly no contact, maybe something changed.

You still had feelings for the red-haired boy, but you lost hope on him ever seeing how he felt about you during your trip. You'd gotten over it and you were on your path to just moving on.

"Hi" Tommy smiles, giving you a wave as he stands up, "Sorry, uh, we just came to clean for you since you've been gone for like, ever-"

"It's fine" You reply, "I mean, I could've just cleaned it myself, guys."

"Well, we came over for something else, but we thought you were coming back next Sunday, not this Sunday" Becky explains, looking to the boys for a nod or agreement, or an excuse since she already knew what your next question would be.

"Came for what?" You ask, setting your bags down on the floor, deciding they could wait.

"Uh-" The blonde begins before the shorter brunette speaks for him.

"We were gonna throw you a welcome home party"

"Oh"

Silence condemns you for a moment before you speak again.

"Well, uh, thanks. But, I'm gonna unpack" You pick up your belongings, taking them back to your bedroom, leaving them with a little wave.

Christ, that was so awkward. What's wrong with you? Since when had you gone cold to your friends?

The second you sat down, you felt the wave of regret. Freddie was the first to come in and ask if you were okay, though.

"Hey, are you okay? You're either tired and jetlagged or upset to, uh, probably see me, " He mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "And before you say anything, I was a dick for not seeing how you felt about me, and I was completely blind, and I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do at the moment, but I wanted to genuinely apologize, because I made you feel like you had to leave home because you were so uncomfortable because of me"

"Freddie..." You sigh, setting your electronics from your bag down on your bed, "It's fine. I didn't leave because of you, I left because I just needed a break from here, nothing is your fault. I'm on my path to moving on, so don't make it more awkward than it already is" You chuckle, sitting on the bed across from him as he stands in the doorway. "I swear, if you apologize one more time I will kick your ass"

Freddie smiles and nods, "Thank you. Are you sure this isn't going to ruin anything between us..? I don't wanna lose you as a friend"

"That's what I was asking you!" You giggle, "But yeah, unless you fuck up"

His eyes slightly widen, playing into the bit, "I won't, your majesty."

"Good"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #mcyt x gn reader

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agoodficforchii · 1 year

Text

I Don’t Do Love

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Xiao x Reader Word Count: 910 Summary: You've grown to love Xiao, but does he feel the same? Warnings/Extra Notes: Angst, Slight cussing, Lumine is used as "the other girl"

In all honesty, you should've known what you were getting into when you met Xiao. Xiao, conqueror of demons, the last Yaksha Guardian, someone who wanted nothing to do with humans. Really you should have known better. But she was able to talk to him. She got close to him. He let her in. Then again, she was the Honorary Knight of Mondstat, savior of Liyue, the great traveler. What were you? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You’d probably be laughing at yourself if it didn’t hurt so damn bad.

Flashback

As the sun fell into the horizon, I started approaching the familiar inn. Today was the day I’d finally tell him how I felt! Or that’s what I was telling myself. I prepared for all the outcomes possible, if he rejects me, if he accepts it, all of it. Walking up the stairs to the roof I can’t help but think about the first time Xiao and I had met. I was going to Mondstat to visit some family and decided to stay at Wangshu Inn before continuing the long trip ahead. It was already night when I checked in and instead of eating a full dinner, I skipped straight to dessert, Almond Tofu! After asking if it was possible to eat outside in a less crowded area, Verr told me the roof was mostly empty at night and that's where I headed. I expected a few people but what I didn’t expect was the last Guardian Yakasha to be leaning on the railing. After a short amount of time spent deciding whether or not to go back inside, I chose to walk up next to the lonely Yaksha. He instantly snapped his head toward my direction, scaring me to the point where I almost dropped my plate. We kind of just stared at each other for a while but I always hated awkward silences so I spoke up,

“Uh hi? I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I quietly said.

Despite my best efforts he only turned to look forward again and the awkward silence came right back. After a short while, I noticed him glancing at my plate. Coming to the conclusion that the Archons above had graced me with a second chance to talk to the Yaksha I spoke up again,

“Would you like some?” I asked with the best smile I could muster up.

To my surprise, the Yaksha actually looked flustered. Was he not expecting the offer? Or does he not talk to people often? I snapped back after hearing his voice for the first time,

“You don’t need to offer me any,” he said, turning his head forward once again.

His voice was so soft in the quiet night. I wanted to hear it again. Finally processing his words I felt a little sad knowing he didn’t expect my offer.

“But I insist! Please have some,” I replied as quickly as I could.

Pushing the plate towards him, he hesitantly grabbed the plate and took a small bite of the desert.

“I’m [Name], it’s nice to meet you.” I decided it was a good time to introduce myself.

He glanced over at me before replying, “I’m Xiao… Thank you.”

Thinking about how close the two of us have gotten and all the time we spent together suddenly gave me a huge boost of confidence.

…

“I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you. A lot.” I had confessed in a whisper, looking anywhere but at him.

The silence that had followed my confession wasn’t the comfortable one I was used to with Xiao. No this was different. I could feel my heart pounding rapidly against my chest, silently praying he says something, anything. After a few more seconds I hesitantly looked at him, he wasn’t looking at me. Why wasn’t he looking at me? A sudden feeling of dread washed over me as I stood there frozen in place. I reminded myself about how I prepared for rejection, it would be okay, we could still be friends. Everything would be okay. Right? A few more seconds pass and I finally see his lips move,

“[Name]...”

…

It’s been a couple days since that incident. I wanted to forget about it. I wanted to run away. I wanted Hu Tao to bury me already. But I couldn’t, no I said I would stay friends with him. No matter how much it hurt, I wanted to stay friends with him. So here I was, walking up the familiar steps up to the rooftop ready to face him. I stopped at the entrance, suddenly feeling deja vu. I see the back of the man I had come here to see. A slight smile fell on my lips as I started to walk forward. I stopped (again) when I noticed there was someone else with him. I recognized that blonde hair anywhere, the traveler. Now normally I wouldn’t stay and eavesdrop, but hell what else do I have to lose now. It’s been a minute and nothing’s happened. I was about to leave when I heard it. He laughed. Laughed might be too generous of a word. It was more like a really small chuckle, maybe a huff? But he was smiling. He was happy. He was happy with her.

“I don’t do love” He had told me that night.

I believed him.

But I was wrong. He didn’t do love for me. He loved for her.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #xiao x you #xiao x reader #xiao angst #xiao genshin impact #x reader #character x reader

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hekate1308 · 8 months

Text

It's alright, I'm here now

Prompt: “It’s alright, I’m here now.”

Fandom: Good Omens

Pairing: Ineffable Husbands

Crowley taking a nap is nothing new. His dearest loves to sleep, and Aziraphale would never begrudge him such a simple joy.

The problem is that it comes with… repercussions. Now and then. Not always. But just often enough that part of him wishes Crowley wouldn’t indulge in sleep, if only so this wouldn’t happen.

He miracle himself upstairs as soon as he heard the shouts, of course, and is now busy soothing his demon.

Crowley shot up in bed and is now breathing heavily even though they don’t need to breathe, but there are some things you just pick up when you’re around humans for too long. “Angel?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I – you – he blinks at him. “You didn’t leave.”

It’s the one kind of nightmare that still makes him scream, the one kind that makes it difficult for him to remember that they moved into their lovely cottage several years ago, and rarely spend a day apart. It breaks Aziraphale’s heart every time, although part of him keeps insisting that he deserves whatever consequence he has to bear.

“It’s alright, I’m here now.” As always when he says the words, when he reassures Crowley, his words are tinged with regret. They will be forever. No matter what his dearest says or does, Aziraphale will carry the guilt that he chose Heaven over him – and not just once, again and again, although the worst time was certainly when he was convinced that he could change the system when this was never going to happen.

Crowley looks at him and his eyes soften as he reaches out to take his hand. “I know, angel. It’s just nightmares.”

Juts nightmares. Aziraphale knows that Crowley has other nightmares too, mainly from the war and falling, but the ones where he leaves him are the only one he wakes up screaming from.

Crowley kisses his hand. “Forget it. What time is it?”

“About tea-time”.

“Perfect.”

As if Aziraphale didn’t notice millennia ago that Crowley actually doesn’t like to eat all that much but enjoys watching him do it.

Still, he knows this means that Crowley doesn’t want to talk about it, so he agrees that it is, indeed, perfect.

They found the small bistro soon after they moved here, and the owner, Pauline, is a good friend of theirs by now. “Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley!” she beams at them. “How nice to see you! And how are you on this wonderful day`?”

Crowley doesn’t answer, so Aziraphale is forced to answer that they are well even though he is very aware that Crowley is not yet over the dream. He takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, and he smiles at him even though Aziraphale thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

“Really, angel, you don’t have to look at me like that” he tells him when they sit down. “I’m fine.”

“I Know. I just wish…” he trails off because words are not enough to explain how sorry he is that they got this wrong for so long, and that they will both be having to live with that for the rest of eternity.

He reminds himself that at the very least it’s going to be an eternity with Crowley, and that that’ s what’s important because – it’s just the truth. And yet…

Pauline doesn’t bring them a menu anymore since she knows what they like, so they are just waiting for the food to arrive when Mrs. Sintclair and her daughter. Faith (Crowley had a bit of a laugh when they were first introduced, although he made sure that they did not hear) immediately runs over to them and grabs Crowley’s leg because she, like all children, loves him. “Mr. Crowley!!!!” She frowns. “You look sad.”

“Faith –“ her mother immediately tries to quiet her, but Crowley simply shakes his head because if there is one thing he never stood for, not even back when he was still kind of working for Hell, it’s lying to children.

“I had a nightmare” he tells her.

“Oh” she bites her lips. “I have nightmares too. Did Mr. fell hug you? Mummy always hugs me after I’ve had a nightmare.”

“Yes, he did” Crowley confirms. “Mr. fell takes very good care of me.”

A gently smile directed at him, and the worst part of this, at least when it comes to this, is that he actually means it. He is firmly convinced that Aziraphale takes good are of him, that he deserves this, deserves him.

He can’t help it, he just has to reach out and take his hand again. Crowley smiles once more, but is busy with Faith who’s babbling on.

“Sorry about that” her mother begins, but he just shakes his head because he loves watching him relax.

I’m here, he repeats a silent vow to himself, I’m here and I’m never leaving again.

#fictober23 #my writings #good omens #ineffable husbands #aj crowley #aziraphale

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highfantasy-soul · 3 months

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NATLA - Episode 4: Into the Dark (3/3)

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

An explanation of what I'm doing here and my history with ATLA.

Of course, full spoilers ahead.

Sokka's instincts make an appearance in this episode too as they're navigating the cave - love that Sokka is smart and figures out the stones light up in the dark - and even though his plan goes awry, just like in the animated show, sometimes his instincts are right, sometimes they're wrong - he's delving more into using his brains to help the group rather than just his battle prowess. Here is where the character beats between him and Katara in animated episodes like 'Jet' come to fruition alongside their interactions last episode.

In the animated version, they have a lot of time (ie beginning of every episode, so 20 times) to have the characters poking fun and mocking each other, but in only 8 episodes, that can feel like tonal whiplash if the characters swing from mocking to learning the lesson then back to mocking then learning the lesson then back to mocking then learning the lesson all in one episode - structurally, it just wouldn't work. Merging Katara's frustrations with Sokka always needing to be in charge and 'he knows best' into these two episodes really let that dynamic breathe, deepen, and be resolved in a satisfying way. They have a really sweet sibling moment reminiscing about home, and Sokka urges them to continue on, doing his best to be a good leader.

They both get to explain why they fell in with the people they did, how Sai helped Sokka and Jet helped Katara. The idea that we don't get through life alone, we need friends and mentors to help us along the way, is a huge part of 1) this episode with Aang and Bumi and 2) the entire series. I like how Katara reminded Sokka that when he was thrust into a leadership position, he didn't have anyone to help him through it - he was just given command and left to his own devices. It's a concept that comes up in the animated show too and I'm glad they're giving it time to breathe this season. Again, we're setting the foundation for character's core traits through the series, Sokka's being: a leader, strategist, inventor, and warrior.

I like that it's sibling love that saves the day in the caverns - I mean, first off, the power of MUSIC is what somehow got the badgermoles to guide them through the tunnels the first time, it makes sense that they'd be a bit more intellectually advanced and be able to sense emotions and follow verbal commands. And second, love the switcharoo with it not being the crystals but rather an emotional through-line. The OG was a bit eehhh for me because honestly, teasing that a KISS would light the way out (and some in the fandom STILL believing that's what got them to safety) is just….eewww to me. Very unnecessary especially since Katara and Aang are literal children. I'm more for them developing a strong platonic bond while they're this age because it really didn't feel organic to me for Aang and Katara to get together after Aang's whole crush that started from the first moment he saw her. It was a little too 'ok, you saved the world, now here's your reward: a woman' in the og for me. Not to say they can't fix that ship, but cutting it for now I think is a good move.

I do think this episode had some of the best moments and some of the most 'eh' storylines for me, so a mixed bag. I loved everything except the Bumi storyline, but again, I get what they were going for with it, I just think the execution could have been better - and by that I mean fully nix the 'crazy king' aspect of Bumi (which would have made the internet even madder than it already is) and just fully reshape his character to fit the tone of the live-action. Characters like Bumi are just SO over-the-top it's really hard to get that balance right in live-action.

But as far as criticisms go, it's pretty mild compared to a lot of plotlines I forgive in other favorite shows, so - eh *shrug* I'll live.

These past two episodes were quite annoying to analyze beside the OG because I'm rewatching the animated version to make sure I get specifics right and these episodes covered are all so late in the season! Omashu happens, then I had to go through storylines that show up later in the live-action but happen earlier in the animated. But, rewatching the OG is always good for me and I stand by the assessment that nothing got messed up plot-wise moving those later storylines up to here, rather I think it built an even stronger foundation for the heavier stuff to come like the Spirit World and the Blue Spirit storylines.

#natla #netflix atla #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar

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ladyodaskonpeito · 8 months

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Day 4: Happy birthday, Sousuke!

Fandom: Free!

Pairing: Yamazaki Sousuke x Tachibana Makoto

Wordcount: 1300

Warning: Mentions of blood and vomit

It's Sousuke's birthday, so I went a little overboard with my day 4 entry 😅

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3

A/N: Haematemesis is the medical term for vomiting of blood

September 14th fell on a Wednesday this year, and Makoto was surprised to overhear loud noises coming from the GI clinic at five in the afternoon when he left his office. There were no GI consultations on Wednesdays if he remembered correctly.

And Makoto would remember everything correctly. So he rounded the corner out of curiosity and saw the team of GI doctors busy decorating the hallway with grey balloons and black, lettered flags that spelt out ‘Happy birthday, Sousuke!’.

“Makoto,” Rin called to him. It was naturally Haru’s boyfriend who first spotted him standing and staring at the flags. “You have perfect timing! Please, help!”

Dr Kirishima also appeared delighted to see him. “Yes! Makoto-kun, please lend us any of your personnel who are available right now, please?” As if sensing his concern, Dr Kirishima quickly added, “We have gotten approval from Dr Azuma for this celebration already, don’t you worry! He even offered to cover for us in the ward from five to seven, so we’d have time to make it a party. We’re just a little short on manpower right now to properly spruce up the place.”

The head of their division was an incredibly thoughtful superior in that case, Makoto was impressed.

“He covered for you, Natsuya! You’re the one with limited time,” Dr Mikoshiba laughed. “You, and our birthday boy. The rest of us will party hard and are free to drink all the booze we want!”

“Heck yeah,” Rin, too, rejoiced at that. “Please join in on the fun if you’d like, Makoto? You know how rare it is for the entire GI team to gather together other than for work. I even asked Haru to come, he’ll enjoy himself better with you here too.”

“You’re only inviting the nurses as well for extra helping hands,” said Haru flatly as he showed up just then. He probably headed here immediately from his department despite his complaints. “I’m leaving as soon as we finish setting up.”

“That’s not true, we invited our tech guy too for him to help out,” Dr Mikoshiba interrupted with glee, patting his brother’s back a little too hard for it to not be an intentional distraction to his candle-counting.

“Nii-san is the worst!” retorted Momo-kun once he finished counting thirty of them.

“This reminds me,” Dr Kirishima managed to fish out his phone even with the number of confetti poppers he had in hand. “I have a younger brother who is free too now that the pharmacy counters are closed.”

Makoto gave a chuckle. He would like to stay, just to assist with the preparations of the celebration like Haru would if nothing else. The hospital’s policy did detail that alcohol was only prohibited wherever and whenever clinical activity was taking place, anyway. The GI team would be fine.

“On the top of my head,” he finally offered. Nagisa was an obvious choice for how much he loved a good get-together, but he was stationed at the GI ward until seven, leaving him out of the question. “I recall that Nitori-kun would be coming in for the night shift later. I’ll ask him if he’s free to come in earlier for the party then?”

And as expected, Nitori-kun was down for it. They all made quick work of the decorations while they waited. Ikuya later brought in the cake from their delivery driver at the hospital's main entrance and Nitori-kun was promptly put in charge of calling Sousuke in while still panting as he reached.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” Dr Mikoshiba instructed. “Make up a fake patient and tell him there’s an emergency, say the rest of us are not available and he’s scheduled to be on an in-hospital call later anyway.”

So Nitori-kun, despite his apprehension, was forced to make the call before his breathing even calmed down. Sousuke picked up on the first ring even when he had an hour left before his on-call duty.

“Dr Yamazaki!” Nitori-kun exclaimed as if taken aback by how fast it was answered, and put the call on loudspeaker. “There has been an emergency, please come to the clinic!”

“The clinic’s closed today. Wouldn’t I be needed at the ED instead?” He first expressed doubts, before quickly proceeding to brush that off and asking for a breakdown of the case.

“It’s a 30-year-old male patient,” Nitori-kun frantically looked around for any ideas, before locking eyes with Makoto. “It’s- it’s Tachibana-senpai!”

The rest of the team could barely hide their snickers while Makoto paled from the imminent embarrassment.

“Makoto?!” Sousuke sounded alarm (as would anyone in his situation, why would the nursing manager be having a gastrointestinal-related emergency out of the left field), concern evident in his tone. Makoto could feel that tiny sliver of hope rising up again at that and at the use of his first name, but he rapidly swallowed it back down. The mortification he’d be feeling in front of Sousuke soon was enough to snuff out any sparks in his chest.

“Nitori, details of the case!” Sousuke demanded after Nitori-kun was quiet for a while, too busy trying to come up with a fake history. Shuffling came from the other end of the phone line, he must have been moving in a rush.

“Uh, erm, senpai presented with- with haematemesis!” Nitori-kun gulped. “He just got off work—that’s right—that’s why he’s at the clinic.”

Someone in the team let out a giggle. It wasn’t caught on by the other end, apparently, as Sousuke continued gravelly, “History of presenting complaint? Any medical conditions? His medication history?”

Nitori-kun couldn’t give any coherent answers to that and only stuttered into the phone. In his defence, Sousuke basically fired the line of questions at him without waiting for a response. He still reprimanded Nitori-kun sternly nonetheless. “What was that report with how many years you’ve been a nurse now, Nitori?”

“To be fair, I’m panicking! It’s my manager we’re talking about here,” Nitori-kun whined. “Please get to the clinic as soon as possible, none of the other GI internists are available.”

“What? How is that possible- just get him to the ED already! I’ll be there in 15.”

“Noooo, come to the clinic!”

“Sousuke,” Makoto interrupted the call, exasperated at Nitori-kun’s helplessness. He wouldn’t want all the efforts of a surprise party going to waste, so he’d have to do it himself. “Bright red vomit, accompanied by pallor and dizziness. No known medical illness and not on any medications.” He tried to sound weak and mumbled some when providing the details, even adding a cough at the end for good measure.

“Please come over to the clinic, I’m too sick to walk all the way to the ED and Nitori-kun is panicking too hard right now to get any sort of meaningful help,” he added at the end.

There was the sound of a car door opening and more shuffling before Sousuke steadied his breath and puffed in reply. “Okay- okay, I’m on my way.”

The team cheered noisily when the call ended, patting Makoto on the back for the good job well done. Although he was apologetic for lying to Sousuke, he hoped the party he’d helped set up would more than make up for the deception and it’d be truly an enjoyable birthday for Sousuke.

A party that Makoto didn’t stay for, because he was a coward who couldn’t deal with pretending to not recognise Sousuke anymore. He left alongside Haru, all the while contemplating whether he should get it off his chest by talking to Haru about it.

In the end, he didn’t. Haru was never the friend who could offer him words of advice when it came to matters of the heart, after all.

Maybe Rin could do that in his stead. If not… well, Makoto was out of ideas.

To be continued on Day 5

#free! anime #soumako week #soumako #yamazaki sousuke #tachibana makoto #my writing

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