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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

Note

What if Mc was a person who don't take shit from anyone, demon human or Angel, and just was this small sassy piece of dynamite? How’d everyone react?

MC who takes no shit - brothers + undateables

Satans pact and chapter 16 spoilers

Lucifer:

So you've chosen death

This man can't even handle the smallest sign of defiance

an actual bitch boy

"You are here because you were picked to attend, you were listed to be under my care, this is MY house! You follow MY rules-"

"hold that for a second, I'm calling Dia."

He's so easy to rile up

You feed off his quick temper, he makes it too easy

But he deserves it

Too many times he thinks he can just control you and his brothers

You've cut Mammon down from the ceiling, when faced to Lucifer you just handed him the rope

"If you want someone to hang so much, do it yourself, old man, it is your fault after all - if you didn't leave your cursed valuables lying around Mammon would of never tried to steal them and get himself cursed."

Mammon:

He both scared of you and in awe of you

He's surprise you're still alive at this point

Of course you're alive, the great Mammon is looking after you

You have definitely called him out for being a tsundere

"So, you wanna make out or do you wanna keep yammering on?"

"I- You can't just be saying that to demons!! Why would I wanna kiss some human-"

"Kay, I'm going to go see if Levi wants to-"

"WAIT! DON'T DO THAT!"

Whenever he steals something from you or the others, you go on a man hunt

"Sell your own stuff! You always have something new in there! or are you that scummy and bad with money you need to steal off others ?"

Please have some mercy with him

In general, finds your sassy attitude interesting, always wonders what the new comment or roast will be

Levithan:

Scared and in awe but times it by 10

Is mostly terrified because you make him upset

Didn't expect to be called a guilt tripping bitch

"You're busy? I get it, I mean - why would you ever want to spend time with someone like me? I'm just some nobody, a yucky otaku who no one wants to be around-"

"I get having a low self esteem but shitting on yourself at EVERY given chance and then go on to be about how yucky and worthless you are when I just wanna spend time with someone else?! You can fuck right off!"

He thinks you're a delinquent, has gotten you a cool jacket so you can put it over your shoulders

You can pat him on the back for at least being able to stand up for himself, he's always ready to brawl and never shys away from calling his brothers out

Always lets you wear his headset and just watches as you cuss and sass any petty player

Satan:

It seems you keep choosing death

You wanna get sassy and back talk the literal embodiment of wrath????!

So - do you want be buried or cremated?

You take none of his shit

He respects it just as much as he hates It

We all know he has good control over his anger but there's a limit on how much of your attitude he can stand

"You're so petty, do you have to be a smart-ass about everything?"

"that's rich coming from the guy who threatened to cut off my limbs because I wouldn't make a pact wth him."

When he doesn't respond you just nod to yourself, checking your nails

"Yeah that's what I thought."

If he needs to come up with a good come back he always asks you

Sits back and watches you argue with Lucifer

Asmodeus:

He loves it until you call him out

Didn't expect to get psychologically profiled

"At first I thought you were just a narcissist but now I see you're just a Insecure man who placed his value on his looks and how people perceive him-"

" You can't seem to handle any type of bad press about you-"

"Oh? Did you make yourself look bad then blame it on someone else because they just wanted to do what they please? Oh boo hoo!"

You could end this man's career with a single word

But, if you're 'no shit' attitude is targeted to someone else? He's all over it

Will sigh dreamily and watch you chew Someone out

Unless you get super roasty and rude - he encourages you to talk to him with an attitude

"You're so hot when you talk like that~"

Knows you aren't all sass, he definitely enjoys your more softer side

Will invite you to a sleep over so you two can gossip and rant over a bottle of wine and do a mini spar

Beezlebub:

What prompted you to be this sassy? He's baby!

I mean, he did throw a fit when you ate his custard and destroyed your room

Sure, constant hunger is painful but he can survive without one custard

Yeah- he can be up for roasting and being chased out

"You've told me you literally want to eat me! How is that comforting?! You're hunger tantrums are already bad enough but now I know I could be on the menu?"

"No thanks! Do the hokey pokey and turn your goofy ass around!"

Has a habit of being your stool, he doesn't mind really, finds it pretty adorable actually

You're so small compared to demons so when a gym jock is being rude about you or Beel

You just snap your fingers and he'll sit down, hunch over and put his hands over his head

You'll just step on his palms (you take off your shoes angrily whilst telling the jock demon to not move an inch) and just go off

He understands where alot of your cusses come from, he agrees with you and feels guilty on his behaviour

Really likes it when you stand up for him; normally no one does that because he's such a big guy

Belphie does it but things can be abit disheartening when your twin Is the only one rushing to help you

Belphegor:

You know what? Understandable, please, fire away

Just keep making jokes and references to all the bad things he's done

He needs to be put in his place

The dude has literally killed you! If you weren't going to give him an earful when you recovered then what was the point?!

This man is one of many bastards in this school

Either watches you go off on people or sleeps mid arguement to stop hearing you call him out

"I'm innocent, I haven't done a single thing wrong in my life."

"wELL-"

He will always respect you for looking out for his twin, when he can't do anything he always looks to you to step in

Has held things out of your reach just to watch you get mad

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

You've chosen a fate worse than death at the cost of sassing a pure man

He gets upset but is very understanding, it's his companions who will handle your fate

I honestly, CANNOT, think of a reason you'd want to be sassy or rude to him

If it's just in general and not meant to offend him; he thinks it's very attractive

You've got a silver tongue and able to make a comment without much thought

Very impressive

His type is Lucifer very simple

You'd call him out for letting dangerous behaviour happen at the school and putting loads of faith into Lucifer

Perhaps point out how reckless inviting humans to a demon realm - who could easily be killed if they don't have an escort with them at all times

But other than that? He's safe

Barbatos:

He is your executioner

He can handle a jab

But he will remind you he was the one who saved you if you get too out spoken with him

that only gets him more cussed out though

"So you're aware of pretty much every event that happens, Right?"

"You could say that."

"Then shouldn't you use those abilities to then help anyone and stop all sorts of tragedies?"

"My Lord has stopped me from using my powers freely."

OKAY THAT'S SOMETHING YOU CAN CUSS DIA OUT ON

In general, you just make comments about how vague he is

He's too mysterious that it's just ridiculous

You want to get to know him but he just gives you that smug look and amused laughter

Solomon:

Can you really be blamed for being Sus of him?

He's so suspicious, for what?! For what reason?!

He doesn't like being called old? Depending how disrepectful you wanna be, you like to use the nickname "Grandpa Solo"

"I'm surprised you aren't actually some evil Wizard trying to get the brothers pacts so you can be the most powerful human alive and take over the Devildom."

"Who says I'm not?"

He's witty and smug

You're sassy and explosive

You're a duo that should be feared

The two powerful humans banding together? I'm sure there's a website on the two of you with theories of your evil plans

Simeon:

Finds your attitude delightful!

Didn't want his kindness to annoy you but it did, sometimes it is a crime to be Too nice

His favoured company are all sassy bastards so it only makes sense he likes you very much

"You gave them bangles that made them into SAINTS! that's fucking weird! And you had them turn into angels despite the fact they have truama from heaven!"

as mischievous as Simeon can be

His angelic nature really does pop out alot

"aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go ape-shit?"

"Of course not, there's no need but thank you for worrying about me, I know I can seem force and strange to you but I really do enjoy being kind to others."

"disgusting."

Almost fought him during the TSL event; you didn't expect him to do a 360 and become super strict

Despite your hard shell you care alot about the people you're close with and can't stand to see them upset

Luke:

It appears you're trying to throw hands with a 10 year old

He does seem demonphobic

Why are you always denying your true feeling??!! Just admit you like demons!

You try not to swear and be outwardly rude Infront of him

But sometimes this little boy really tests your patience

"Okay species-ist."

Is your main response when he's being a tsundere

He's the one who's the safest from your attitude

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lxngbottom · 3 years

Note

Can we get a part 2 to pretty flower? my soul depends on it

Pretty Flower | N.L. (Part 2)

in which neville finds himself being absolutely attached to the reader after their time together.

warnings: nsfw, light clit play, mentions of sex, but nev being adorable

my soul depends on this too don’t worry

—

ever since that night with neville, everything seemed to be blurring together and changing for you. it had only been a couple of weeks, and you made no attempt to even speak to him. you were so embarrassed at what happened, and even more ashamed at the fact that you enjoyed it. after neville pleaded with you to stay, you just walked out on him, giving him no rhyme or reason.

after everything, neville felt so guilty. did he over step? oh god... what if you didn’t really want that to happen? what if he was too invasive? he wasn’t too sure, but it made him burn with sadness every time he saw you, hiding your face from him in the halls.

you definitely weren’t angry with him, you just were too shy. you felt like you had committed some sort of unforgivable act.

when you told ginny, she almost flipped the whole table over in the great hall. she wasn’t shocked at the fact that it had happened, as she assumed that neville had always fancied you, but all at the same time... you had actually agreed to it. you were no longer “innocent”. and that on its own was what got to ginny. maybe the ginger was just... baffled?

“down there?” hermione asked, skimming the row of seats in the quidditch pitch. you nodded you head as people filled in the rows.

you were at a quidditch game, more than ready to support ginny in her first real match of the year. hermione and luna had escorted you, as you were terrified to get in trouble for not sitting in your house placement. when you admitted that fact, hermione just giggled and said, “and they say i’m afraid to break the rules...”

as you three settled into the stands, you saw a familiar figure walking in your direction. your body tensed, and you quickly turned your head hoping that he wouldn’t notice you.

but of course, he did notice you. he always noticed you.

“you guys saving these seats for anyone else?” neville asked politely. hermione shook her head, and he adjusted his scarf as he glanced over at you, just simply waiting for you to look back. but unfortunately, you couldn’t.

you were too ashamed.

—

the quidditch match had gone great. gryffindor had taken a victory, and for some god awful reason, you had agreed to let hermione to sneak you into the gryffindor common room to celebrate.

unusual things had happened as people cheered ron on, including lavendar brown practically forcing her tongue down the ginger’s throat. this elicited a terrible reaction from hermione, and you watched as she exited the common room with teary eyes, harry following behind her. you wanted to go check on her, but honestly, you knew that harry could probably make her feel better than you could. after all, you weren’t great with handling people’s emotions.

for merlin’s sake, you couldn’t even figure out your own emotions.

here you were now, awkwardly standing in the front as students cheered lavendar and ron on for snogging. luckily, they exited soon, probably trying to find some privacy you assumed.

you knew how that went.

you gulped as the whole time you could feel neville’s lingering presence beside you, and you could hear the sound of his voice every time seamus spoke a word to him beside you.

“want me to make you feel good with my fingers?”

“wanna taste yourself, doll? you taste so good...”

“i can’t wait to ruin you, bunny...”

the statements came back in flashbacks every single time you heard his voice. it made your hands shake, and your thighs press together.

“y/n?”

the voice snapped you back to reality, and you looked over to see seamus with furrowed eyebrows looking over at you,

“are you alright?”

you nodded your head awkwardly, feeling neville’s chest slightly pressing up against your back from how packed it was in the common room at the moment.

“yes... um—sorry... what did you say?”

oh god. this was so embarrassing.

“i asked if you placed your bet on weasley, today... if you didn’t, you’re probably regretting that now, huh?” he teased, shooting a playful grin your way. you laughed awkwardly, as you could still feel neville right behind you.

then, you heard dean and ginny called seamus’s name, and he shot them a questioning look.

“oi! leave y/n alone, finnigan!” ginny demanded, walking over towards you, “dean needs a word with you, seamus...”

he rolled his eyes and walked over to his best friend, and patted your shoulder as she returned to the boys.

you were now alone again, and people started to spread out in the common room, chatter of triumph still occurring. but, that feeling behind you still hadn’t faded.

“meet me in my dorm...” you heard in your ear, and you jumped slightly from the voice. he sounded so... angelic. “bunny...”

your thighs clenched from the nickname, and the fact that you could feel neville’s breath against your neck. but you didn’t dare to look back, even when his finger grazed the back of your thigh slightly. and suddenly, he was gone.

for a moment, you panicked thinking about what you should do. you still felt utterly embarrassed due to what happened just a couple weeks prior, but, you couldn’t ignore that familiar fluttery sensation in your stomach as you thought about it.

fuck it.

you waited for a few minutes before walking away, and ginny shot you a wink as you went towards the boy’s dormitory.

“just stay calm... it’s fine—it’s just neville...” you kept telling yourself as you walked up the stairs, also hoping that no one was following you.

the trip to the dorm was unfortunately much shorter than you hoped it would be, and you trembled as you knocked on the door. neville opened it automatically, grabbing your arm and pulling you inside. you yelped at this, and he slammed the door behind you. he let go of you, and you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room.

he loomed over your figure as he approached slowly, looking you up and down.

“hi, petal...” he whispered, sending a shock through your spine,

“hi...” you replied shyly, gulping a bit. he couldn’t help but smile hearing your fragile voice again, as he had missed the simple sound of it these past two weeks.

he noticed your nervousness, and let his fingertip graze across your cheek in an attempt to soothe you, “i’ve missed you...” he cooed, “you left with no reason, darling. i’ve been worried. you haven’t spoken to me, either...”

you felt guilty at his words, but even more guilty for the reasoning.

“s-s-sorry...” you stuttered out, already knowing that he was about to ask you why, “e-embarrassed...”

embarrassed? why?

“why are you embarrassed, love?”

you didn’t know if you should exactly tell him, but you knew he deserved some sort of explanation. you could tell that he was pleading for one just by the look in his eyes.

“what—what we did...”

he frowned a bit at your reply,

“why is that embarrassing?”

you shrugged your shoulders, honestly not understanding the shame.

“it—it was bad...” you muttered, but noticed the shift in neville’s facial features, “not—not bad like that... just—i—well... i don’t know...”

he couldn’t help but to let out a small chuckle from you innocence, as it was somehow still in tact.

“well... is there anything i could do to make you feel less embarrassed? cause—there’s no reason to be, petal. you did—amazing.” he paused before he continued, letting his hand trail down your hip, rubbing small circles into it. “there’s nothing to be ashamed of, petal.”

you looked up at him finally, your sparkling, shy eyes burning into his. your cheeks were on fire from his touch, and you knew that he knew that he had an affect on him.

“i-i-i’m sorry... i’ve just been scared to—bring it up, i suppose. d-d-don’t want to—embarrass you in front of your friends...”

neville didn’t even respond, he simply placed a small kiss on your forehead, and he sent you a small smile.

“you could never do that, petal... you’re too sweet.”

his words made you somehow blush even more, and it was getting to the point where you broke out in a sweat from how heated you were.

“but... i couldn’t help but notice that you were clenching those pretty little thighs of yours together in the common room, earlier...” now, his eyes were dark once more, that sweet boy gone within an instant, “what were you thinking about, bunny?” that’s when those same fingers that rested on your hips came trailing down, and were going up your skirt, making your breath hitch.

“y-y-you...” you responded sheepishly, only wanting to be honest with him. he chuckled, and finally, he pressed his finger up against your clothed bundle of nerves.

you gasped as he did so, “bunny... you’re soaked... how long have you been like this?” he asked teasingly, but the tone in his voice came off as if he was just pitying you.

“i-i’ve been thinking about—you... a lot... ever since—you know...” he hummed in response, letting you know that he wanted you to keep speaking, “i—i tried to—t-t-touch myself the other day... but—i don’t know. it felt... weird...”

even after everything, you were still so innocent. it drove neville absolutely mad.

“petal... you should’ve just came to me. you know i’ll take care of you.” he stated with a smirk etched across his face. his fingers kept rubbing small circles into your panties, making your breath turn shaky and uneven. “do you know how much i’ve missed you?”

you whimpered as moved your panties aside, and ran his finger through your slit,

“please...”

“please what, bunny?”

you were tired of the teasing. you had missed him so fucking much, and you just wanted him to make you feel good again. plus, you simply missed just being around him.

“touch me again. please.”

he kissed your lips softly, but still only continued to tease your pussy with his fingers.

“be patient, petal. i want you to be mine before i make you feel good again...” he admitted, stroking your cheek with his free hand. “would you want that?”

you looked up at him, and could see the pure honestly and adoration in his green eyes. you had never had a boyfriend before, but you didn’t even have to give it a second thought before you nodded your head.

he sent you a genuine smile,

“good. now you’re mine and i can make you feel good whenever you want...”

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom smut #neville x reader #neville x y/n #neville x you #neville longbottom fluff #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x y/n #neville smut

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theregoesmylurkerstatus · 3 years

Text

So... I have a lot of thoughts on the finale. I've deliberately kept my mouth shut, more or less, on the campaign overall because I'm a firm believer that you can't pass judgement -- at least not complete judgement -- on stories until they're over and done with.

Well, it's done! Kind of crazy. I've been watching Critical Role with almost insane consistency, viewing almost every single episode live, with maybe five-ish exceptions, since episode 19, and I've been blogging it for, what, two and a half years?

It's a weird feeling. It's been such a constant thing for me that I'm always gonna have love for it and remember with a lot of fondness.

...Which is in spite of the fact that I can now comfortably say I'm pretty eh on the ending. I know not being positive about something most of us have loved a lot for a very long time can sting a bit, but I personally think it also stings when people relentlessly crow over how good they think it is or want it to be, to the point where you feel you can't voice your absolutely valid upsets or dissatisfactions. So, here goes, if anyone's interested! I'd be curious to see other opinions, too!

I actually drafted a post talking about my overall frustrations with the campaign a whole two weeks ago, and then scrapped most of it when 140 blew me out of the water. I was really touched, and really happy. I hadn't expected it, but it shockingly felt right, you know?

Unfortunately 141 robbed me of most of that satisfaction and brought me right back to neutral.

The blanket statement you have to make, of course, is that you can’t criticise this as a DnD game, and you can’t be mad at the cast for playing it in a way they think is best for them. They’re the players, Matt’s the DM, and in the end it makes no sense for them to try to make themselves act how they think the audience wants them to, and I’m sure most of the audience wouldn’t like the result anyway.

That said, there is an audience. And that’s where I see this clash coming in. As a DnD game, as long as the players and DM have all enjoyed it and been satisfied, it’s a successful game! But for us, it’s not a DnD game. For us, we’re watching a story be written in real time through the medium of an RPG. And while as a DnD game you can’t fault it, as a piece of media, I completely get why the way things have gone has sat weirdly for a lot of people.

It's not satisfying to see so many character hooks dealt with so quickly or left as an offscreen "and then you do it." If they don't want to keep playing to dive into it, absolutely, but for us who have been watching this as a story with all these character elements get so built up, it's a huge anti-climax.

Which is a lot of what this campaign has been, really.

Oh, Nott’s cursed! But through a really cool character moment that problem is completely taken care of with no consequences we see. Yay, I want her to be Veth and that was an iconic move from Jester! Still, it kind of feels like this was built up to be a big problem and at the first success it was let go... Caleb's got a really intense frightening past he tries to hide, I wonder how the Mighty Nein will respond? Oh, they found out, but it's not a difficult revelation for anyone. Looks like it's easy for them to move past it and forgive. Yeah, that's healthiest for the characters, but huh, kinda undercuts it as a storyline or point of interest. Oooh, Avantika’s back! Ah, they’ve killed her and grabbed the eye again. I mean I don’t want them to die or for Uk’otoa to be free, but I’m starting to feel like that’s not much of a threat anyway. The Traveler’s been kidnapped! Nah he hasn’t, he tried to save Jester so he was let go with no further issue, and also he wasn’t actually in any danger anyway. Oh... Cool. So... Why should I care or be worried?

And these are just the biggest ones I remember being kind of let down by. I wanted to see them STRUGGLE for the successes to have meaning. To my view, threats of failure -- real failure -- really decreased the more the campaign went on, with a few exceptions.

Because don't get me wrong, we've definitely had struggles, and those have made for some of the best moments! Molly’s death, Yasha’s kidnapping, Yeza’s imprisonment. When failures that were threatened are allowed to occur, it’s far more gratifying when it’s followed by success, because you understand that that success was actually necessary. It shows us that what they do really means something.

Honestly, that's why the final battle really shut me up, because nothing makes you quite feel stakes and failure like having two PCs die, and having a resurrection ritual fail -- AND knowing that failure would be delivered on, had it not been for a seemingly miraculous roll of the dice to turn it around. One of the greatest failure's -- Molly's death -- made the success of his resurrection put a lot of my other issues to rest immediately, because to be honest? Molly's resurrection was the biggest success of the campaign, exactly because it was originally the biggest failure.

But this episode, we got to see the other side of making threats and successes feel disappointing -- when you get the impression that success was robbed from you. Again, their characters, their choices, but to have them roll an intervention to get Molly's soul, to convince Molly to come back with his own possessions they've so loved, after so long and so many struggles... only to apparently not get Molly at all?

Changed, of course. Memories, maybe he'd never get them back, though that seems inconsistent to how the initial resurrection was played and Matt's hints. It even makes sense that not having his memories and being a bit different, he might forge a new identity, but insisting Molly was a different person entirely after such a supposed hard won success to get Molly back, especially after what his death meant to the audience and potentially healing that old wound? It robs the narrative of a LOT of catharsis, at least for me and I know many others.

Trent, too, I'm very up and down on. He was so built up -- and what fun that build up had -- and I very much disagreed with the idea that the best story would be dealing with him offscreen.

It's true that you don’t need to explicitly address, confront, or explore every big aspect of character's story hooks and background ties for PCs to move past them and grow healthily. But that does not make it a satisfying viewing experience. People quietly healing in real life is healthy. People quietly healing in an explosive fantasy setting is frustrating for the audience.

What on earth is the point of a story if you don’t get to SEE THE ESTABLISHED CONFLICTS go anywhere? A lot of the characters got distant, quiet resolutions, if that, to everything we wanted to see.

Except, we did get to see Trent. It was a really fun, inventive battle, from opening to conclusion, but much like Travelercon, much like Nott's/Veth's problem with the hag, these were things that the audience in general wanted to see be really dug into and explored, and every single one of them got, in my opinion, quickly tidied up instead. Trent got beaten in the first and only proper battle they had with him, which, after all his build up, is pretty disappointing for a villain many of us wanted to see be a big deal. It really just felt like they were trying to tidy up to get on with the epilogue, which is not what a lot of us were looking for with Trent especially.

And that's how most of their endings felt to me. It didn't feel like any of them had reached a comfortable conclusion. Literally all of them, bar Veth and Caduceus, continued on their character journey threads, without each other and very quickly. Meeting Yasha's tribe and Vandran, Caleb finally openly debating changing time for his parents, Trent and Zeenoth's trials and the changing of the guard at the Assembly... All were things it would have been so fun to have all the PCs react to and explore together, and instead they were fleeting encounters in the latter half of a seven hour finale.

Is all this, from Molly not really coming back to Trent being a finale side plot to the Nein continuing on their individual journeys, potentially realistic to how these fantastical things might go down in real life? Sure! But that's not necessarily a good thing.

Stories THRIVE on conflict and resolution. That’s what makes them FUN! Conflict isn’t nearly so fun in real life and resolutions are often frustrating question marks, so no, past a certain point I don’t WANT stories to be realistic. I want stories to be SATISFYING.

And campaign 2 has fallen far short of the mark.

I haven’t spoken... Basically a word of this for most of the campaign, because as I said I’m a firm believer that you can’t necessarily judge something until it’s over, and because I ALSO firmly believe that being negative WHILE trying to enjoy something is counterproductive. I have had no interest in spoiling or naysaying the fun of the campaign for anyone, least of all myself.

But it's done now, and all I can say is... I really have had fun. I love the characters. I love their relationships. I’m pretty okay with where they’ve ended up. I’m not mad, really, and I’m still going to think of this campaign with a lot of affection. But it hasn’t been a satisfying story, even though for a week following episode 140 I thought, despite all the brushed over story threads, it might be.

So... to try and reclaim some of that satisfaction for myself, I might ignore some aspects of the finale proper. Namely Kingsley specifically. Taliesin's choice -- but to me, it's pretty clear that who we saw at the end of 140 was Molly, and the tags on my posts will reflect that, just as my 141 tags will be for both Kingsley and Molly, for clarity's sake. I personally want to believe Molly did come back, however others might want to interpret it. The victory in 140 that meant so much to me is hollow otherwise, and it just kind of hurts that we would lose Molly after everything. I was okay with him being dead -- I'm not so okay with his resurrection being stolen.

Kingsley will always be canon, but Molly is what I choose to acknowledge. I get if you don't like that take, and that's okay! I didn't care for canon's in the end. That's the good thing about storytelling, is that no one can stop you from making your own versions.

For the people who are hopefully hyped for campaign 3, heck yeah have fun! I’m on the fence. My investment, which... I think I can objectively say was pretty substantive as this blog will attest, doesn't feel rewarded, so I’m not convinced I can faithfully keep up for over three years all over again with a strong possibility that I will once again be left disappointed. It's been a huge chunk of my life, and... yeah!

I’ll take a break, probably, view (and liveblog, if people want!) campaign 1 when I’ve had a mental stretch and vacation, and then... I might start campaign 3. I definitely won’t be able to put the same time in it I did campaign 2 (my first love no matter what), knowing that it’s likely to not be so vindicated, in the end.

I swear I’m actually writing this in fairly good humour, but I totally get its always disappointing when the people you come to for fandom enjoyment just aren't sharing your fun. Honestly I’m half tempted to write all those frigging AUs I have sitting around! But I wanted to say my piece, and try and logically outline why this ending has been lacklustre for so many people, ultimately myself included.

Episode 140 felt right because it felt like a natural conclusion -- these disparate people coming together and finally being whole, finally soothing the hurt that MADE them so long ago. Episode 141 spat on that sentiment -- they all scattered to the winds, not as happy people to live out their dreams, but as confused people chasing up loose threads towards an unknown future, with the friend they thought returned still lost to them, ultimately.

It doesn't feel like the ending we should have gotten for the Mighty Nine, who were finally, finally all together. Until they weren't. So to me? I choose to acknowledge that they were, even if I have to force it to happen post-epilogue in my head.

#critical role #cr spoilers #c2e141 #c2e140 #ramblings #long post #first time i've used that tag but i figure people should be able to block this if they want to!#molly #kingsley #trent ikithon #the mighty nein

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pupandangelscoffee · 3 years

Text

Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: mention of car crash, scene in the hospital, arguing with doctors

Synopsis: When Buck realizes he is not just in love with you but also in love with Eddie and admits to having kissed him, will he lose both of you or will he get his happy ever after?

Taglist: @enterprise-medical

Turning around and feeling the cold covers next to him leaves a bitter taste in Buck's mouth as he remembers the previous night. The yelling, the fighting, him saying that you didn't matter to him unlike Chris and Eddie. He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth, because you did matter to him, he was just confused. His feelings towards Eddie had changed over the past few weeks and two nights ago, he had kissed Eddie in a drunken haze.

But that hadn't been the only thing that confused him. He had spoken to Maddie and after her questioning, she suggested that he may be in love with you AND his best friend. When telling Eddie about it, he expected the other to laugh, yet instead the other male just hummed and stated "so just like me".

So now he was waking up to an empty apartment, his head feeling like it was about to explode. Buck missed your scent, your soft voice when you're just waking up, how he brings you coffee while you whine about wanting to stay in bed for just 5 more minutes. His heart clenches at the thought of you placing gentle kisses along his shoulder, your chuckles, your laugh when he told you some weird fact that he read online.

Ever so slowly the day drags on. Eddie doesn't even spare him a second glance at work, only talking to him when it is work related. Even the whole team noticed something was up between the two best friends, though unsure of what it is. Well almost all were unsure, Chimney knew what was going on from Maddie, however, he was sworn to secrecy by his wife and despite not wanting to admit it, she did scare him just a bit. Though he just kept quiet and watched the two males with careful eyes, ready to report everything to Maddie.

Dragging his feet as he enters the apartment, he calls out that he is home, hoping to hear your voice from the kitchen. Instead he is met with deafening silence. A silence he wishes didn't exist, a silence that he hates being the cause of. Dropping his bag on the floor, he sets his keys on the table before falling onto the couch and letting out a loud groan. Just as he is about to doze off, his stomach lets out a loud growl and after debating whether to ignore his hunger or not, Buck decides to order some chinese food.

Once he has eaten, he just stares at the wall for a good 10 minutes before grabbing his keys and rushing to the only person he can think of. A quick 5 minute drive later, he ran 2 red lights but he is distracted, and he is standing in front of Bobby's house. Sure, Athena and Bobby may be having a cute date night, but right now he needs dating advice and who better to get it from than his captain. Taking a deep breath, he finally knocks and waits for Bobby to open the door, who looks rather shocked to see a crying Buck standing outside of the door and quickly ushering him inside.

It takes exactly 1 beer, 6 tissues and Athena's calming words for Buck to open up about what had happened between him, his partner and Eddie. After hearing the entire story, the married couple sits there in shock as Buck is trying to calm down. "So that is why you two were so awkward at work today?" Bobby asks carefully, not wanting to send the younger male into another crying fit. Buck nods, blowing his nose before wiping away the remaining tears with his sleeve.

"Look, I don't know whether you want to hear this or not, but you need to grow a pair and invite them both over to your place, so that you can talk this shit out. It might not end with you three together, but it will give you all some closure. And who knows, maybe it will end with you all three happily dating." Athena states gently, rubbing Buck's back. Somehow the younger male had weaseled his way into her heart and she worried about him, especially when seeing him so heartbroken. But there simply wasn't anything her nor Bobby could do about the situation, they could only give Buck the support that he needed right now.

After his talk with Athena and Bobby, Buck slowly drove home, this time being a lot more careful. Once again, he finds himself laying on his couch, this time staring at his phone as he thinks about sending the message he had typed out, asking you and Eddie to come over the next morning. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he presses send before shutting off his phone and rushing up to hide under his blankets.

The next morning comes and goes without a single sign of you. Eddie turned up around 9 and even brought some coffee and breakfast, because he figured that Buck wouldn't have eaten yet. Soon enough, it is late afternoon and Buck has checked his phone like a million time, though there was no message or call from you. Now he's pacing back and forth in his kitchen as Eddie tries to calm his nerves. "Hey, mi amado, I'm sure they're just busy and that is why they haven't reached out yet. It will be okay."

Hearing those words help calm Buck's nerve, though he still jumps to pick up the phone when he hears it ring. "Y/N? Is this you?" He asks quickly, only to frown when he hears Maddie deny it. "Buck, listen, I just had a call and normally I wouldn't be allowed to tell you this, but it's about Y/N. They were in a car crash and on their way to the west hospital. They're stable, but I figured that you'd like to visit them." Maddie explains gently, knowing that it would be a rather hard blow for Buck. After all, hearing that your loved one was just delivered to a hospital because of a car crash wasn't an easy pill to swallow. "Thank you, Maddie." Buck mumbles, quickly hanging up so that he can grab his car keys and Eddie's hand, explaining on his way out where they were going.

They didn't know what to expect when they arrive at your room, though certainly not you glaring at the doctors and stating that you're absolutely fine. "You have to let yourself be checked on, mi amor." Eddie says, recovering from the state of shock quicker than Buck did. "And who are you?" The doctor asks the men, raising an eyebrow at the pair. "We are their-" Buck begins, only to be cut off by you saying "my boyfriends. Now as I've been saying, I'm fine, I can leave." You continue arguing with your doctor as the two males stare at you in complete shock and confusion. You just called them your boyfriends, did this mean you like them back? That you were okay with trying a relationship between you three? They share a look before approaching your bedside, Eddie being the first to speak up again. "Listen doctor, I am a trained medic. They'll be staying with me for the night and if there is any sign that they are doing unwell, I will bring them back here immediately, okay?" Sighing, the doctor nods and excuses himself to get the papers for you to be discharged.

Finally, an hour later, all three of you were curled up under a blanket on Buck's couch with you in the middle and the two men holding hands on your lap. A small happy sigh escapes Buck as he watches the two people he loves, thanking the gods above that he was so lucky to be with both of you. Though the moment is quickly ruined, when he miscalculates the distance to his mouth and pours beer all over his chest.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #9 1 1 x reader

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

Text

Peer Pressure

Kix x Fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: Kix finds himself giving the princess medical assistance, and even though the two of them hit it off, no one else seems to like the two of them together

Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of a bombing (happened prior to the story), people being a-holes towards the clones

-------

The first time Kix sa you he could have sworn time stopped for a moment. All his bleeding brothers, the destroyed droids and remains of the palace faded into the background the second he laid eyes on you. And when you ended up walking straight towards him his heart skipped a beat. Though he soon scolded himself for this when he saw that you weren’t exactly walking, but rather jumping on one leg, trying your best not to put any pressure on the other. Kix hurried over to you and without either of you having to say a single word he put his arm around your waist and guided you over to one of the makeshift beds along the tent walls. “Thank you”, you said. Those two words made Kix turn his attention away from your leg and to your eyes. Even though they haven’t been on this planet for very long, everyone in the 501st could tell that the inhabitants were not big fans of clones, most of them ignored them altogether while others were nothing but mean and cold. Your words might have been the first friendly ones he had heard since their arrival that didn’t come from one of his brothers. “You’re welcome”, he replied, trying his best to focus on your leg again and not your gorgeous eyes. “What seems to be the problem?” You shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. I was with my family, trying to escape the palace as soon as the alarms went off, but then there was this loud noise and next thing I knew I was all alone and the walls around me were nothing more than dust and pebbles. Kix nodded along while you talked. “Do you mind lifting your dress so I can have a closer look at your leg?” You did as you were told, lifting the hem of your dress inch by inch until Kix told you to stop. He could now see that your knee was at a weird angle and there was a long cut along your calf, which was still bleeding. He studied the dark fabric of your dress for a moment to see if there was any indication as to how much blood you’ve lost, but all he noticed that the dress, though now dirty and torn in some places, seemed incredibly expensive. You must be a very high up servant, or maybe even some kind of noble woman. “Your knee is dislocated and you have a cut on your calf. It’s bleeding a lot, but not deep, so you should be on your feet in no time”, he explained as he began to disinfect your wound before wrapping it up. “Try not to put too much weight on this leg the next couple of days, a day or two of bedrest would help as well, if that’s possible. And the bandages should be changed once a day until the wound is closed. As for your knee, this will hurt for just a second, you can squeeze my arm, it might help with the pain.” Once again you were a model patient and did as told while Kix tried not to let your warm hand on his arm affect him. He had put off parts of his armour a while earlier due to the hot climate and now there was only a thin layer of fabric between your skin and his. “What’s your name?”, you asked as Kix put his hands on your knee, whether because you were really interested or to distract you Kix didn’t know, but he found that it didn’t really matter to him. You had asked for his name, not his number as the few other people he had spoken to on this planet, one of whom had only asked so he could report him for daring to touch him while placing a bacta patch on him. “Kix. My name’s Kix”, he said and quickly followed up by asking for your name. “I’m (Y/N)”, you said, though you rather screamed the last syllable in the short moment it took Kix to relocate your knee. “It’s very nice to meet you, Kix. And thank you so much for your help. What can I do to repay you?” Kix, now finished with his work, looked at you in shock. Surely you had to be joking. “I... “, he began, not sure what to say. In all his time as a medic, this was a question he had never heard. “Maybe we could meet again for dinner and you could tell me what you’ve thought of”, you suggested with a bright smile on your lips that made Kix’s mouth dry. Did you just ask him on a date? Were you flirting with him? “I’d like that. Especially after the day I’ve had”, he finally admitted. Still smiling you leaned forward, placing your elbows on your legs and your head in your hands until your face was only inches way from Kix, who was still kneeling in front of you. “Go on, tell me about your day.” Kix scanned your face, looking for any trace of irony or cruelty, but when he didn’t find anything that might lead him to believe that you weren’t sincere he began. “Well, it was a long day and a short night. Jesse, that’s one of the brothers I’m closest with, woke me at the crack of dawn because Hardcase had dropped his caf and cut himself on the broken cup trying to pick up the pieces. Once his hand was bandaged Echo and Fives came running through the medbay, trying to hide from Dogma, who they had pulled some sort of prank on. And before that could be settled Rex commed us to get us over here because the palace was under attack.” Kix surprised himself with how much he had told you, how easy it was for him to talk to you and that you were smiling and laughing as he told his story. “That sounds like an eventful day, much better than mine. Maybe I’ll get to meet your brothers one day”, you said wistfully. Before Kix could reply to that he heard voices from the other side of the tent. As he looked over he saw you rolling your eyes out of the corner of his eyes. “Where is she? Where is our daughter? I demand you bring us to her?” He saw Rex trying to calm the screaming man down, but the woman next to him then began to yell at the Captain. Luckily just a moment later General Skywalker intervened and much to Kix’s dismay lead the couple over to him. “Kix, the King and Queen say that their daughter was admitted to the medical tent. Have you by any chance seen the princess?” Kix shook his head. He was pretty sure he would have noticed if anyone like the two monarchs in front of him would have been anywhere near the tent. “There you are! (Y/N), we were so worried. What are you doing here? You should be with our own doctors, not this... clone”, the Queen exclaimed while, to Kix’s surprise, put both her hands on your cheeks. Though he didn’t hear your reply, since his attention was now captured by the King who had picked up his wife’s yelling. “What do you think you were doing with my daughter? Were you trying to kidnap her? You better hope for your own good that you didn’t touch her, or else-”, he began before being interrupted by both you and Anakin. “Dad!”, you yelled while Anakin told him not to speak to his men like that. Though neither the King nor the Queen paid any attention to either of you. Instead they both took one of your arms and basically lifted you off the bed. All you could to before they all but carried out the tent was to turn around to look at Kix and mouth a single word. “Sorry.” All Kix could do was stare after you, standing completely still and not registering anything around him until he suddenly felt Jesse’s hand on his shoulder. “Well done, vod. That’s the princess you were just flirting with.”

-------

A short while later you were sitting in an armchair in the one part of the palace that, by some miracle, was still mostly intact. The room was smaller than what you were used to, and the clothes you were wearing were a lot less elaborate than your usual dresses, and yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead it felt rather like you weren’t yourself at all, like you could do things you usually couldn’t. The thought brought an idea to your mind. You looked very different in this simple black dress, with no makeup and unstyled hair, if you were to leave the palace no one would stop you, they wouldn’t even recognize you. Without thinking further about your idea you jerked into action, packing the small dinner on the table next to you in a basket you had found earlier and making your way out of the room and through the halls. No one stopped you, no one even bothered to look at you until you arrived at your destination. “Who are you? What do you want?”, a clone with the number five tattooed on his forehead asked. Though his voice was similar to Kix’s, he sounded a lot less friendly. “I’m looking for a medic. His name is Kix. We met earlier today and I-” “What? You’re gonna yell at him some more?”, another clone, this one without visible tattoos asked. You shook your head and lifted the basket in your hands. “I’m bringing him dinner as a thank you for helping me. And an apology for my parent’s behaviour.” It seemed to dawn on the clones who you were once you mentioned your parents. “You’re the princess!”, the tattooed clone exclaimed, though the other elbowed him in the side a moment later. “Kix should be in the mess. That’s the third door to the right”, the other clone said, his voice a lot friendlier now, before the two of them let you pass onto the ship. You soon found your way to the mess, though only once you stepped inside did it occur to you that finding Kix amongst all the other clones might be a bit more difficult than anticipated. As you began to look around the room you realized that one after the other all the clones had stopped eating and were now looking at you. You felt heat rising to your cheeks. Maybe you should have thought this through instead of assuming Kix would be around, waiting for you. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of you looking around the room and every single men inside staring at you, one of the clones walked up to you. He obviously wasn’t Kix, but introduced himself as Jesse, a name you were at least familiar with. “You must be the princess. If you’re looking for Kix, he just left for the barracks. Down the corridor, then left. If you might still catch him before he hits the ‘fresher.” Relief flooded through your body. “Thank you”, you called over your shoulder as you headed out the door to finally find Kix. You saw him just as he was rounding the corner and called his name. Though you hadn’t expected him to stop dead in his track because as soon as you ran around the corner you ran right into him. Luckily Kix had quick reflexes and caught you before you could fall down. “You weren’t just running, were you? What part of ‘don’t put weight on your leg’ didn’t you understand?”, he sighed, though there was a grin on his lips. You shook your head as you tried your best to catch your breath. How dare he talk about your leg now instead of appreciating your grand gesture? “I know, I’m sorry”, you said, even though you weren’t really, not if running was your way of catching Kix. “And I’m sorry for earlier. My parents... they’re... they can be... I’m sorry. I’m nothing like them, I promise. And look, I even brought the dinner I promised you as proof.” Without hesitation you thrust the basket in Kix’s hands. He looked inside before turning back to you. “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to have dinner. Clearly there are a million reasons you should stay away from me.” You shook your head. How could he say that? Didn’t he notice how much you’ve grown to like him after spending just a few minutes with him and how that could easily turn into something more if he’d just agree to have dinner with you? Hadn’t he felt the sparks earlier? “Maybe I don’t want to stay away. Maybe I want to have dinner with you, no matter what anyone may say or think.” Kix simply handed you the basket, but before he could say anything else you tossed it to the side and stepped closer. “Tell me you don’t want to spend time with me and I’ll leave, but don’t blame it on other people. This isn’t about what my parents think, what your brothers may think, this is about you and me and the fact that I’ve never felt about anyone like I feel about you.” A loud sigh left Kix’s lips. He reached to take your hands in his and gently stroked along your knuckles. “You don’t even know me, mesh’la.” You spoke enough Mando’a for that little word to give you a bit of hope. “We can change that. We can take it slow, no pressure, no expectations. Just one question: Will you have dinner with me?” Kix looked deep into your eyes as his answer, one single word, left his lips.

-------

I might write two seperate part twos to this story, one in which Kix agrees to dinner and one in which he doesn’t, if that’s something you’d like to read.

As always, I’d love to hear some thoughts and feedback <3

#kix x reader #kix x you #kix x y/n #kix imagine

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so-writing · 3 years

Text

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (6)

all parts in the master list

I asked who wanted Matt to end up with reader and most people were like “yes but make it hurt” so while I won’t reveal if she ends up with him or not, I will make it hurt! Ya welcome!

The kiss was.. unexpected.

Matthew pulled back quickly, out of natural habit, and she immediately did the same, due to his response.

“Oh my god, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking, actually I wasn’t thinking I just-“

“Hey,” he cut her off gently, “relax, you’ve been drinking, it’s no big deal.”

“It kind of is. That was super inappropriate and I don’t know why I did it. I could get in so much trouble.”

She was right. Getting involved with Matthew, not that either of them wanted that, would be a conflict of interest and she could potentially lose her job if the situation wasn’t handled properly.

“Your secret is safe with me, don’t worry.”

He wasn’t sure if her cheeks were rosy from the alcohol or the embarrassment but he allowed himself to find it cute for a minuscule moment before pushing the thought away.

“You know, your assertion that you don’t like me is pretty wobbly now,” he tried to play it off as a joke but when she didn’t say anything for almost a full thirty seconds, confusion set in.

“You don’t, right?”

“No,” she spoke quickly, “I don’t, I just, I don’t, I’m sorry I’m being so weird. It’s the alcohol.”

Your head was spinning. What the fuck had you just done? And why?!

“You know, your assertion that you don’t like me is pretty wobbly now.”

Matthew was standing a foot away from you, his piercing blue eyes were staring into your own with that stupid smirk on his face and for a minute you weren’t sure whether or not you could disagree with him.

It had been one of the most tumultuous weeks of your life and you were so close to coming out of it unscathed. That wouldn’t happen now, not after you suddenly gathered all the insane confidence in the world and fucking went and kissed him.

“You don’t, right?”

“No. I don’t, I just, I don’t. I’m sorry I’m being so weird. It’s the alcohol.”

Hopefully he bought it, because if he didn’t there was no other explanation you could offer.

You needed to talk to someone, to vent and air it out and get a different perspective from a fresh set of eyes. You needed your mom.

“I have to go back to the hotel and I have to call someone. It’s kind of a private conversation so will you knock before you come in to let me know you’re back?”

“Uh, sure. Are you okay?”

“No,” you answered honestly.

“Hi, honey, you’re calling late, is everything ok?”

“No,” you let the sob that had been trapped in your throat come bursting out, “it’s really fucking not.”

“What’s going on?”

Your mother knows who Matthew Tkachuk is. You’ve bitched about him to her probably more times than you can count but she doesn’t expect what you lay out in front of her as you sit on the edge of the bed trying to speak clearly and not cry.

“I’ve gotta say,” you could hear the smile in her voice, “you really put your foot in it tonight, but maybe this isn’t all bad.”

“Of course it’s all bad, mom, I’m going to get fired.”

“He’s not going to tell anyone.”

“How do you know?”

“He told you so.”

“What do I do here? How do I handle this?”

“It depends. How do you feel about him, really?”

You didn’t know. You didn’t fucking know. Matthew had spent the entirety of your time working with the Flames, until this week, treating you like you didn’t exist. Since finding out your room assignments he had been pretty much equal parts hot and cold and it was doing your head in.

There were times he was completely awful to you but sprinkled in with them were the moments where he was apologetic and even a little bit kind. It was then that it hit you.

He had been cruel to you for years and only in the past week had he shown small spots of kindness and here you were overanalyzing the fuck out of them. You didn’t like him, not in general and definitely not anything deeper than that. The tiny bit of positive attention he was giving you was clouding your head because you’d been single for such a long time and hadn’t had any real male attention in months but you were seeing things clearly now.

“I don’t feel anything for him, mom.”

“I’m not sure of that.”

“I am,” a soft knock on the door interrupted your phone call, “I’ve gotta go though, I’ll call you tomorrow on the way home, love you.”

You ended the call and made your way over to the door to unlock the deadbolt and let Matthew in.

“Holy fuck,” you shouted as his large body collided with your smaller one, sending the two of you crashing to the floor.

“What the fuck Matthew?!”

“Sorry, s-sorry,” he slurred, clearly drunk, “I was leaning on the door, didn’t think you’d open it.”

“Well I did, Jesus Christ,” you shoved him off you and rubbed your burning wrist.

His clumsiness sent him down on top of you with your arm tucked to your side and your wrist took the brunt of fall as it was crushed beneath the two of you.

“Shit, let me see!”

“Matthew, really, I’m fine.”

“You might not be. I’m not a small guy and we fell hard. Let me check it out.”

You weren’t sure how drunk he was before but it must not have been to severe because he seemed to sober up quickly and the look of concern in his eyes as you babied your wrist was enough for you to let him take a look.

He was gentle, slowly moving your arm around to get the best look at it.

“Doesn’t appear to be broken or anything, but you should still talk to someone in medical. I’m obviously no expert.”

“I’m fine, Matthew, thank you.”

There was a strained quiet hanging between you as he closed the door and locked it.

“Who’d you call?”

Matthew moved away from the door and stripped his shirt, followed by his jeans and you were hit with a flashback of the other day when he did the same thing but this time he knew you were there.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” his response was resolute, “who’d you call?”

“Why is that any of your business?”

Your eyes were trained on his toned stomach and chest as he pulled on a pair of navy pajama pants.

“It isn’t. I just want to know why you ran for the fucking hills after kissing me and who you so desperately needed to talk to. Also, be less obvious with your eyes.”

That fucking annoying smirk again. You blushed a bit but still managed to roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“Was it an ex? Did that kiss drum up some old shit for you? Realize you missed them even though they’re probably a piece of shit and you know can do better? Turn around, please.”

You did as he asked, not answering his question, “what are you doing?”

“Taking my boxers off, they’re uncomfortable.”

When Matthew gave you the go ahead to turn back around your eyes instantly dropped to his waistline. His pajama pants were now hanging low on his hips, exposing the top of his adonis belt and you knew you needed to look away before he made some shitty comment.

“Was it an ex?”

He asked the question a second time and part of you wanted to say yes but what was the point in lying?

“No. It was my mom.”

“Really? So it’s something that’s fucking with you pretty bad, huh?”

What the fuck?

“Why would you say that?”

“We’ve been working together for a while and the only time I can remember you excusing yourself to call your mom was when the Islanders offered you a job with less pay but closer to home.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I know you’re not exactly friends with me, but you are friends with other people on this team and maybe I asked them about you because maybe I was curious.”

Don’t fall for it, you told yourself. This was one of those small spots of kindness Matthew had recently started to show you. Now wasn’t the time to lose focus of the bigger picture.

“It’s nothing serious. I missed my mom, I wanted to call her.”

“You wanted to call her at almost midnight your time, much later her time, after you ran out on me?”

“Yes Matthew,” your tone was clipped, “is that problem?”

“No, no not at all. I get it. I miss my mom, my whole family actually, all the time.”

You weren’t going to give in and have this conversation with him. Matthew loved his family and was very close with them, it was obvious to anyone who spent even a small amount of time around him.

“Maybe you should call her,” the words came out more aggressive than you meant, “as far as I know, you haven’t spoken to her at all this week.”

“I’ve been texting her everyday, actually.”

If he was offended, he didn’t show it.

“Well,” you huffed, “good.”

Matthew was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, his whole beautiful torso on display, with a look in his eyes like he wanted to say something. You waited for him to make his move and watched as he opened and closed his mouth three times before finally saying anything.

“You looked good tonight, really, really good.”

His confession hit you like a semi truck veering off the highway and into a field of sunflowers. Don’t give in, don’t fucking do it, you willed yourself to ignore his comment but when he continued..

“I’ve never seen you like that, so sexy and confident, I’m honestly really fucking blown away by you right now.”

This was not what you expected and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew this was just another kind kink in his chain of cruelty and you weren’t going to let him get the best of you again.

“Don’t say things you’ll regret when you’re sober in the morning.”

The silence between the two of you was heavy, neither choosing to say anything until you decided to break the hypothetical glass.

“Early game and even earlier practice tomorrow. You need to sleep, Matt. Come to bed.”

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #matt tkachuk #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

Traumtänzer (Pt. 2)

Rated T

German Translations:

Mein Gott - My God

Der Herr de Ringe - The Lord of the Rings

Il Principe - The Prince

Part 1

Part 3

“So… He went back in time to meet up with a woman he kissed once and who was happily married with children?” You asked skeptically. That didn’t sound like the Steven you’d known. But then again, you hadn’t known him all that well.

“It’s confusing, but that’s the gist of it,” Sam interjected, taking a sip of his tea. The four of you were getting cozy in your living room, though it was a bit small. Sam and James shared the couch and you and the Baron found yourselves in arm chairs.

“Why are you so willing to stick your neck out for him?” James asked, looking for more information.

“He,” you paused. How much should you say? “He helped me out when I had nothing,” you shrugged and looked down into your empty teacup. Chamomile had always been a favorite of yours.

“That explains why you owe him a favor, but you’re really going out of your way. You know we’re harboring a criminal,” James nodded towards the Baron. You squinted your eyes at him, wondering if he could be trusted.

“He kept my secret… He found out my background and he didn’t turn me over to the authorities or insist I go get tested on,” you could tell you’d piqued their attention with that one. It was true, what you’d been thinking before. You didn’t tell anyone about your background, but Wanda had seen you and told Steven, and he helped you get off the grid. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t,” the Baron finally spoke up. “But we’re not in a place to be helping SHIELD out considering the circumstances, so we have no real reason to turn you over.” You accepted his answer with a frown. It wasn’t a lot but he was right.

“I knew the Maximoffs when they worked for HYDRA because my parents were secretly HYDRA agents,” you looked down into the teacup again, fighting the tensing of your muscles and the urge to run. “They sent me in to be experimented on by the-” You lost the word for scepter. Damn it all. “The thing, you know.” You rolled your eyes and growled, swearing in Sokovian. The Baron smirked at that. “ The scepter, god what’s the fucking word,” you mumbled in Sokovian. You knew James and Sam wouldn’t understand but the Baron was Sokovian and should be helping you out. “ Help a girl out,” you pleaded in Sokovian, and you could tell he was holding back a laugh.

“The scepter?” He added in English.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “They experimented on me with the scepter!” You were so excited to have found the correct word, you didn’t notice the silence or meaningful glances James and Sam sent each other. “So I got some cool powers, they ran a lot of tests, terrible time,” You continued quickly, wanting to get this part over with. “Steven knew this, and helped me get off the grid. I owe him more than a favor, I owe him my freedom, my life,” you said emphatically.

“So you’re HYDRA?” James asked, tensing up. You glared over at him.

“I do not associate myself with Nazis, James,” you were cold, but this was a tough topic. “I was forcibly experimented on for years, and you think I would willingly associate myself with them? You should know better.”

He had the self-awareness to look a little ashamed, though you couldn’t care less. You didn’t need his shame or his pity.

After a brief pause, you sighed. “You can stay here for a little bit. Where are you going next?”

“Madripoor,” the Baron answered smoothly, and you choked on your own spit.

“ Mein Gott,” you mumbled. “Why on Earth would you want to go there?”

“We have business there,” he said, noncommittal. You raised your eyebrows, so it was top secret. Interesting. You stared at each other for a moment, unsure where your next words would lead you. You didn’t want to push too far but your curiosity was burning.

“I suppose I will prepare dinner,” you finally said after losing a staring contest with a criminal.

It was an uneventful night. You prepared food and you all ate in silence. It was only later when you were sitting in the living room reading Der Herr der Ringe that things got weird. James was sharpening a knife while Sam fiddled with some electronics. The Baron was reading your copy of Il Principe quietly.

“ What is your superpower, then? Wanda has her mind tricks and Pietro had his speed,” the Baron was speaking in quiet Sokovian, though he didn’t even glance up from his book. You noticed James side-eye him, but he left it for the moment.

“ I hardly think I should tell you,” you huffed. He raised a single eyebrow, still looking down at the book.

“ Indulge a poor curious man,” he finally looked up and caught you in his gaze. You felt pulled towards him, like his fluent Sokovian was a homing beacon and you just wanted to be near him. It was dangerous, but you hadn’t spoken Sokovian in ages, nobody here knew it and it was becoming a dead language.

“ They called me a dreamwalker,” you whispered in your native language. “ I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you frowned at yourself. You couldn’t trust him. But he was right, who was he going to tell? Alerting the authorities to you would also alert the authorities to him. You kept eye contact with him this time, tilting your head.

“ Tell me, Maus. How does dreamwalking work?”

“ I-”

“English please,” Sam groaned. You pursed your lips and made a quick decision to lie to him. He would have no such issues alerting the authorities. He was an Avenger.

“I was simply telling the Baron about my book. Der Herr der Ringe. The Lord of the Rings,” you replied smoothly.

“What’s so interesting about it?” James asked, this time genuinely curious. Though what was more curious was the small smile the Baron was giving you. You felt your cheeks burn at the attention and tried to hide it by glancing back down at your book.

“It’s the follow on to The Hobbit and follows the third age of Middle Earth,” you began, but James’ jaw had dropped.

“There was a sequel to the Hobbit and you didn’t tell me,” he glared at Sam, who only raised his hands placatingly.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were so into fantasy,” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“It’s actually three books,” you added. “Not just a sequel.”

“Oh man,” James shook his head. “I have been missing out. Is Gandalf still in it?”

You nodded, smiling. The previous topic was forgotten, you started telling him about the movies and how they helped you learn English.

All throughout the evening though, the Baron was glancing at you, trying to figure you out. You were sure he was curious about your powers, though you were sort of afraid to tell him. At the same time… It would be such a relief to talk to somebody about it.

You retired early after setting up the pull out couch and allowing the three men to figure out where they would sleep. They agreed that Sam and James would share the couch and the Baron would take the single bed in the guest room. Their explanation was that they’d be closest to the door if he tried to escape. You couldn’t sleep though, images from your past running through your mind.

It was nearing four when you simply decided to get up, make some tea, grab your book, and return to your room.

However, when you got to the kitchen, the Baron was sitting quietly at the table in the dark sipping on some tea.

“ Good morning,” you whispered in Sokovian, trying not to wake the men in the next room over. The Baron tilted his head towards you and smiled softly, the dark shadowed his face but you could see his features fine. You’d always preferred the night time and the darkness that came with it.

“ Couldn’t sleep? ” He replied in the same language. It must be nice for him to be able to speak it again, just like it was for her.

“ No,” you sighed. “ My mind was racing. And on top of that I’m not used to having guests.”

“You’re uncomfortable being vulnerable around us?” He asked softly, but you shook your head.

“ That’s not it. I don’t want to accidentally walk into one of your dreams. I’m out of practice.”

He nodded sagely, it would make sense. You seemed like a polite girl and you likely wouldn’t want to intrude.

“ Tea? I made extra,” he gestured towards the teapot where steam was still rising and you smiled, smelling the chamomile.

“ Thank you,” you murmured and poured yourself a cup before sitting down at the table with him. “ You couldn’t sleep either?”

“Too much to do and plan,” he replied with a shrug of one shoulder. “ Will you tell me about your powers?”

You sighed, resigned, and nodded.

“ I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I can walk through dreams and change them. It works for daydreams too, when people are in ‘the zone,’” you explained. “ Though it’s harder then, when people are awake.”

I can also project my thoughts into other people’s minds you spoke this time directly in his head and his eyebrows shot up.

I haven’t figured out how to read minds per se, but I’m hoping I can learn.

“ Fascinating. Absolutely sensational,” you blinked and blushed at the praise, hoping he wouldn’t notice in the dark room. “ You’re incredible, Maus. Is there anything you can’t do?” He chuckled and you ducked your head, looking up at him through your lashes with a small smile. “ Oh, that’s not all, is it?” He wondered, a slow smile spreading on his face when you nodded your agreement.

“ It’s new… I have only developed it since my time in this flat. But just as I can project my thoughts, I can project my body. Sort of like teleporting,” you murmured, smiling again when he looked at you, astounded.

“ You truly are wonderful,” he praised you again, this time noting your reaction. You spoke with him for a little while after that about the places you’d teleported to, but you found you’d drifted off when you ‘awoke’ in the dreamscape.

It looked like a forest, this place that your mind conjured. In the forest were many trees and shrubs but also little glimmering puddles. Those were the dreams. You walked as if in a trance, sometimes you had no control in the dreamscape. The puddle nearest to you was dark and murky, you were frightened and your chest tightened up, but you couldn’t hold back as you dipped your toes in and were immersed in the dream.

It was dark. It was always dark at first. But then there was a light and a voice.

You searched and walked around, looking for it, but you regretted entering this… this… this nightmare.

It was James as the Winter Soldier on a dark, cold night. You watched the scene as if in slow motion, and screamed as he killed his friend and his wife.

He jerked back to look at you, noticing you for the first time, and stalked towards you.

“You’re next,” he growled at you, but you scrambled backwards, trying to find your way out of the dream. You tried to conjure something to snap him out of it. You could usually do whatever you wanted, so you changed the scenery. You were on a hot beach, white sand beneath our bare feet, and the Winter Soldier kept stalking towards you.

“Let me out!” you screamed at him. “Let me out!”

You gasped and fell from your chair, and the Baron shot up to catch you.

“ Maus? Are you alright?” his arms were warm around you as you shook off the last of the terror. You were afraid of dying in a dream. You weren’t sure if you’d wake up.

“What the fuck?” James growled from the door frame, rumpled and angry.

“I am sorry,” you choked out. “I did not mean-”

“Stay out of my head,” he cut you off and retreated to the couch, where Sam sat, confused.

“ You might want to stay out of his dreams,” the Baron whispered, arms still caging you in, but you appreciated the strength as tears pricked at your eyes. You hated when people raised their voices.

“ I can’t always control it. I couldn’t get out,” you choked on the words. You huffed a ragged breath and righted yourself, finally pulling away from the Baron. “ I’ll start breakfast,” you mumbled and turned away from him so he couldn’t see the few tears you allowed to fall from fear and apprehension.

Masterlist

#baron zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x you #helmut zemo #bucky barnes #sam wilson #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author

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pkmn-conspiracies · 3 years

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MISSINGNO AND THE "GLITCH" POKÉMON

this’ll be a very long post, and i feel bad for clogging your dashboard, so the full post is under the cut!

hoo boy, this is going to get weird. if you thought that mythical pokémon were stretches of the imagination, you definitely haven't heard of this strange, reality shattering group of cryptids.

ORIGINS OF GLITCH POKÉMON

it's not really known when rumors of these pokémon actually started, but, from personal experience, they've been around for a good while– enough for them to be popular elementaire school ghost stories. there have been an extremely low amount of reported sightings of these pokémon, if you could even call them that, which, we'll get to later. for some reason, most sightings occur within the kantonese island of guren, or cinnabar island– but the mainland is also a notable hotspot for these occurrences.

from most eye witness accounts, the physicality of glitch pokémon are.. strange, to say the least. most are completely unable to provide any sort of description, citing no possible human word that could be even remotely accurate to what they had seen. for those that are able to say something, they are described as extremely large– allegedly ranging all the way from 3m - 26.7m (10' - 81'80"). their appearances are said to be hidden in a static-like fog, although there are a couple of people who claim to have seen them, unobscured, and that they looked similar to complete fossilized specimens of kabutops or aerodactyl. in kalos, many of these pokémon are reported to look somewhat like a shiny bulbasaur.

WHAT CAN THEY DO?

in an unsurprising twist, there were a few of these witnesses who attempted to battle glitch pokémon. for some reason, some of them have reported that their battles have ranged on for days at a time– even though no sudden disappearances of them have been documented. some of these glitch pokémon will spontaneously burst into flames, while others seem to be inflicted with poison of unknown origin; every single trainer reported strange effects upon their own pokémon during battle, but, once their battles have concluded, these injuries miraculously healed as though nothing had happened.

it's important to note that these "pokémon" likely aren't actual pokémon. based on these trainers' accounts, they don't actually have any traditional offensive attacks that other pokémon have. this could suggest that they don't possess the element-channeling organelles that are signature for the domain pokémonica, which means that they aren't actually pokémon– at least not under the current definition of a pokémon.

POSSIBLE THEORIES

so– what the actual fuck? no, like, seriously, what the fuck? why are dozens of people reporting these sightings, and why are all of them somehow consistent in their stories– even when they have never spoken with one another personally?

HALLUCINATIONS

POSSIBLE SIGHTINGS OF LEGENDARY/MYTHICAL POKÉMON

the first and most widely accepted theory is that these people are suffering from a mass sociogenic illness, which causes them to vividly hallucinate for prolonged periods of time. and honestly? i really don't think that's the case. it's basically impossible for so many people, scattered around the world with no contact between each other, to all hallucinate very similar experiences independently of each other. could some of them have been hallucinating, sure, but i just can't really believe that every single account can be waved off like this.

one subset of this theory is that this was caused by the consumption of hallucinogenic drugs, but that can easily be disproved by the fact that each witness, when interrogated further, had passed drug tests– even if they had used in the past. all of these people were stone cold sober when they saw what they'd seen.

due to their extremely strange, cryptic nature, some people believe that these so-called glitch pokémon are either entirely new legendaries, or illusions caused by legendaries. for this theory, people often point to the pokémon known as hoopa, which, in its mythos, was a trickster god who had the ability to create illusions and transport objects through space through its rings. however, this doesn't really explain the time distortion reported by many of the people who encountered glitch pokémon– unless hoopa is working alongside dialga, i wouldn't really consider this to be factual. as for the theory that these glitch pokémon are actually new legendary pokémon.. yeah, i honestly just find that to be a little too much stretching of the imagination to justify that. that's all i, personally, can really say about that.

SIMULATION THEORY

oh god do i really have to talk about this? okay, so some people, including some witnesses themselves, believe that this phenomenon is proof that the entire world is a simulation inside of a supercomputer or whatever. because of how weird that shit is, they just don't think they can logically explain this in any sort of biological way. this group is also where the term "glitch pokémon" comes from, as it was extremely popular when the idea spread through cultural osmosis.

GOVERNMENT EXPERIMENTS

honestly, this take is very conspiratorial, even for me. just.. why? how would any sort of government or massive organization manage to create anything like what was described? the only known man-made pokémon that comes even close is type: null and silvally, but, even then, the two concepts are hundreds of kilometers apart. i'm just going to mark this one down as straight up impossible.

honestly, i would have liked to come out of this with a full opinion, but i really don't have one, even after my research. i want to believe that not everyone is lying about these so-called pokémon but.. it really just doesn't feel real? at the same time though, what would be the motivation behind that? i literally just do not know what to think about this, because it's just so plainly bizarre and unnatural– even for conspiracy standards.

#conspiracy #pokemon #pokemon hcs #pokemon headcanons #pokemon worldbuilding #missingno #glitch pokemon #pando.txt #weird shit w/ pando

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raypakorn · 3 years

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fanfiction writer appreciation: skamverse edition

writing can sometimes take a lot of work out of us but it’s also such a beautiful thing and sometimes, it doesn’t get the recognition that it deserves. so, if you see this and you aren’t tagged, i want you to know that you are an amazing writer OR if you are a reader and aren’t tagged, but would like to spread the love to the writer’s YOU enjoy, do it! DO IT! spread all the love. i know all the writers of all fandoms (not even limited to the skam fandom) would love to hear from those who read their fics.

tagged by @yasminaselamrani , thanks for the tag brenna! i love to show support to any lovely content creators and writers are as much of apart of that as anyone.

if you’re a writer:

a fic that you’re really proud of: 

the only fic that is currently posted is love is the tuesdays, and while i am proud of it because it’s been years since i’ve written an actual fanfic..will likely say i’m more proud of the wip i am doing.

a fic that you were nervous to post:

oh i was definitely nervous to post love is the tuesdays as i mentioned i’d been a while since i had written a fanfic and i always feel weird trying to write canon characters because i’m so afraid i won’t capture their characterization in the right way. also i was writing it based off this moodboard so i wanted it to be what everyone was looking for. however, as per usual like the clutch friend liz is she calmed me down.

a fic you wished got more hits/kudos/comments:

sometimes i feel like a dick saying this because it can come across like i’m not appreciative of people’s interest/compliments in stuff i do but it’s really not that. however, tbh, you’re never going to hear me complain about any feedback or lack thereof on anything i do. (other people’s things on the other hand...yes show them all the love please!) when it comes to me though ANY (even if it’s just liz screaming at me about it) is more than enough for me. i do everything for fun or just to get it out of my head so having even just one person enjoy it, i’m all good with that. so the comments/kudos/people interested in what i wrote/write, just thank you for showing any at all and as long as it makes one person’s day - i’m happy.

one of your favorite tropes to write:

despite me writing a completely fluffy domestic fic, i’m actually an angsty bitch. so i love writing enemies-to-lovers.... also love reading it.

another ship that you don’t write but you’d like to write:

if i had the time and an actual idea, i would love to write an elu fic but alas i have neither.

one of your abandoned wip you never wrote but wish you did:

i mean it’s not technically abandoned per say but i have an au that i literally have saved as an ‘au i’ll never write’ because i’m not putting the pressure on myself to write it. but i wish again i had the time to write it because i definitely like the idea.

another writer you would love to collaborate with:

@hidden-joy...while i love the rest of you and you’re all so damn talented, it takes a certain chemistry and level of comfort to be able to write with someone.

if you’re a reader:

a fic (or more) that you love to reread:

hands down my comfort fic is save us by @luxandobscurus caro really has a way with words and it has such a good level of angst as well as fluff. i cry every single time. there’s also a little drabble called half of who i am isn’t all my fault by her as well that i reread all the time.

tag an author you always love reading:

obviously caro (kind of mad i didn’t realize you posted your fwb fic. like where have i been???) but also @surrealsunday i’ve read pretty much every single fic of jamie’s as well. there’s still times where my mind thinks of mood tattoo and i will just say ‘fucking jeremy’ and i’ll have a good laugh. from the wtfock fandom @sonderthroughthestreets, @foxsake5, & @yasminaselamrani, love reading everything they write as well.

recommend a story to your followers:

as brenna said, yall really should read @tsjernobyl’s sobbe’s dirty dancing au as once i started reading i couldn’t stop. it’s so dfskjkdjk good, excited to read the next chapter. another fic i really love and recommend that i haven’t spoken about is one call away by @demaury as i said i’m angsty bitch.

tag an author you discovered recently:

i wouldn’t say i discovered recently because i had read one of @kissjane‘s fics before but i have been making my way through the rest of her fics i haven’t read yet. and i have been having a good time with it 💛

spread the love!

tag someone who inspires you to write:

probably going to be a broken record but @hidden-joy, biggest support and biggest inspiration. but i really admire all of the authors i have mentioned and they inspire me to be a better writer as well.

tag someone who you’ve admired forever:

@demaury, @surrealsunday, @sonderthroughthestreets, @earthlingeliott, @lucasotteli (one of the best social media aus that i have read), @yasminaselamrani, @luxandobscurus

tag your writing support and loves!

@hidden-joy... she’s really the only one i talk to about my writing and obviously she’s the most supportive person on the planet. though i do apprecaite the feedback that @luxandobscurus, @sanderxrobbee, and @sonderthroughthestreets have given so far, though. also really anyone who’s left a comment on ao3 or come to DM me. seriously i give you a kisseth on the forehead. i promise i am going to finish that last chapter...eventually.

tagging:

everyone who has already been tagged in this, @unhappilysane, @letisnotonfire , and since i don’t know who else is a big fic reader if you see this and liked to do this than i tag you.

#i'll be honest i read a lot more elu than i do sobbe #mostly because their fics are completed and with dyslexia it's just hard to read an ongoing fic as i'm going to forget what happened #so i will have to reread and it's not like reading in general is easy for me...#so i'm a binge reader #unless i really like the author than i have no problem reading a wip because i don't mind rereading previous chapters #but there's definitely fics i want to read once they are complete #tag games

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higuchimon · 3 years

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[fanfic] Treasure Trove

Fubuki wandered by the ocean, partly listening to the way the waves lapped on the beach, partly listening to the music that rose from his guitar as he strummed it delicately. He'd written the song just the night before and he wasn't sure if he liked it this way just. He needed to find the correct chords, no matter how long it took.

Carefully he settled down on one of the rocks splashed by the ocean, and kept on rehearsing, humming under his breath as he did, slowly working it out. So deep was he in his efforts that he didn't notice anything off about the way that the water splashed until a sharp voice snapped.

"Could you stop that racket?"

Fubuki jerked his head up and stared. If someone had asked him, he would have assumed that whoever spoke would have to be on the beach near him. But the voice came from right in front of him - and someone bobbed out in the water, arms resting on top of it, glaring at him.

Pretty eyes, was his first thought, and he smiled brilliantly as it dawned on him someone was actually there in front of him. "Well, hello there," he said, setting his guitar aside. "I wasn't bothering you, was I?" He offered another of his best smiles as he did.

The stranger in the water sniffed, splashing a little. "Of course not. What are you doing here anyway? No one ever comes out here."

"I was just practicing." Fubuki shrugged. "What about you? If you're out here, then people come out here."

"I'm not a person. Not a human, anyway." The stranger shifted a little more, and Fubuki spied what looked like a tail. He did a double-take, then looked even more closely.; "You're a merperson!" Fubuki declared in absolute joy. He'd heard of merfolk before but he'd never encountered one. Some people weren't even sure if they existed, but here was one of them. He wished he could show Asuka. She'd never quite believed that they were real.

Stormy gray eyes rolled. "Well, we can guess you're not blind." His tail swished through the water. Fubuki couldn't get a good enough look to be sure of the scale color, but it looked dark, and he thought it might match the other's black hair.

"Nope! I know something attractive when I see it." Fubuki grinned before he tucked his guitar away in the case and set it where it wouldn't get wet. "Hey, you don't mind if I join you, do you?"

"Huh?" The merman stared at him, tail swishing even faster. "Why would you want to?"

"Because I don't like yelling when I'm talking to someone," Fubuki pointed out as reasonably as he was capable of. "I'm a pretty good swimmer."

"Uh..." The merman shifted a bit, then shrugged. "All right. Come on in." He backed away, giving Fubuki space as the bard dived cleanly into the water. He dived downward, glad that the ocean was pretty deep even here, and then surfaced, right in front of the merman.

"My name's Fubuki," he said, wiping water from his face. "What can I call you?"

Again the merman shifted, but this time it looked more out of nervousness than anything else. "Manjoume. That's good enough."

"Nice to meet you then, Manjoume," Fubuki offered. "I'm a bard. I wander around making music for everyone." He made something of a face. "I'm supposed to be writing a song for my sister but I haven't been able to get it done right. That's what I was doing."

"Well, you could probably stand to practice a little more," Manjoume retorted. "I mean, it was okay, but not that great. You could do it a lot better."

Fubuki had heard that merfolk knew a lot about music. He darted towards the shore, reaching for his guitar. "Think you could give me some pointers?" If there was anything he wanted, it was to get this song done for his sister before they crossed paths again. He started to unstrap the instrument, turning back as he did.

"No!" Manjoume shook his head quickly. "No! I have to go! Good-bye!" He ducked down under the water, vanishing out of sight in a matter of seconds. Fubuki stared at where he'd been, head tilted a little.

That was weird. Did I say something wrong? He wouldn't have thought so normally but Manjoume had vanished so quickly when he'd just asked about music. He wasn't sure what the problem was.

He wrinkled his nose, then slung the instrument case over his back and started along the beach once again. He hummed as he did, trying to get the rhythm correct, and not paying much attention to what else was going on around him, and certainly not at all to the gray eyes that lurked just under the water and followed him along until he made his camp for the night.

Tiny sounds of a tail flipping through the water, then a splash as a large fish hit the beach near Fubuki. He regarded it carefully.

"I didn't know merpeople ate fish," he said, not looking in the water, but reaching for the fish and his knife.

"You don't know a lot about us," a grumbling voice came from behind a rock. Fubuki smiled briefly, before he set to work skinning and preparing his dinner.

Before he set the fish over the fire he built, Fubuki observed, "This is a very big fish. I don't think I could eat all of it myself. Wonder if I could share it with anyone."

He did hope Manjoume would either ask him to come closer to the water or come out on land. Among things he didn't know was that if merfolk could exist on land at all.

"Oh, I think we could help you eat that," came a rough voice from the woods that crept closer to the beach. Fubuki whirled at once, one hand reaching for the knife - or where the knife had been. Someone else had picked it up. Ranged in between him and the path that led away were ten or so large muscular types, set to make sure he didn't go anywhere. One of them stepped forward, the one who'd spoken before. "And you in the water, get up here - and bring some treasure when you do it!"

Manjoume snorted, tail slapping the water. "What makes you think I have any treasure? Or that I'd give it to you if I did?"

"Because if you don't, we're going to fillet and bone this guy like he did that fish," the leader declared, flipping Fubuki's knife in his hands. "Everyone knows merpeople have lots of treasure. You get it when ships sink. It's not even yours. So hand it over - the biggest one that you've got."

Manjoume poked his head out from behind the rock and glared. "It might not be mine but it's not yours either. So why should I give it to you?"

The leader flicked one hand, and Fubuki found himself with a sharp blade pointed at his throat. Thankfully it wasn't his; that would have been too embarrassing. But he didn't like having weapons of any kind pointed at him and he frowned.

"You'd better leave. I'm not going to be responsible for what happens if you don't." Technically he would, but if they didn't leave him be, then they would be asking for it. He didn't like their chances any more when one of them gripped onto his arms and the knife came closer to his throat.

"You stay quiet, bard," the leader declared. "You're not going to do anything except sit here and be a good boy."

"Leave him alone!" Manjoume declared. Overhead there rolled a peal of thunder. That confused Fubuki; there hadn't been any storms in the area that he knew of. But now steel gray clouds, much the same color as Manjoume's eyes, boiled up overhead.

"What we are going to do is wait for you to bring us that treasure." The leader smirked. "Otherwise, blood starts flowing and it's not going to be ours."

Fubuki sighed a very deep sigh. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." He really didn't want to do this. He didn't want to do anything like this, but he didn't want them getting mad at Manjoume and trying to hurt him.

The leader waved a hand at him, probably wanting his minions to shut Fubuki up. Fubuki raised one hand, shaking off the restraining grips on him, and rested his fingers on the leader's shoulder. Ice flowed outward from the touch and the captain shrieked in fear and pain, jerking away, dropping Fubuki's knife. Fubuki picked it up quickly and stepped closer to the water. His original intention was to get in the water and hide with Manjoume until the thugs went away. But he wasn't even in the water before another hand touched his shoulder, a much quieter and gentler feel than any of those bandits. He glanced over to see a familiar face - if only familiar by having seen it for a couple of hours. Manjoume stood next to him.

What Fubuki noticed first of all after that was that Manjoume wasn't wearing a single stitch of clothes. In the water he didn't need to but they weren't in the water now. Fubuki's eyes dropped, then he jerked his gaze up even more quickly. He'd not blushed since he was eleven years old and yet now he turned a deep shade of red.

If Manjoume knew what the problem was, he didn't say anything. Instead he turned to look at the bandits, who were busy regrouping and starting to bristle with weaponry. His gray eyes narrowed and overhead, the clouds thickened even more.

"You have no idea of who you're tangling with," he declared. "Let me introduce myself." One hand raised to the sky. "Ten - one hundred - one thousand - Manjoume Thunder!" And on those last two words, lightning arced downward from the clouds and slammed into the group.

When Fubuki could see again, a pile of very singed clothing and scorched metal that might have been weapons once upon a time draped over the beach. He rubbed the back of his head.

"You did that?" He'd never seen weather control on that level before!

Slowly Manjoume turned to him, and his own cheeks tinged just the tiniest bit of red. "Yeah. I - I'm a thunder mage." He glanced to one side. "I can't sing. At all."

Oh. That explained it. Most merfolk were excellent singers, or so the stories Fubuki had heard went. If Manjoume couldn't sing at all, then that was why he'd reacted when Fubuki wanted pointers! He had never been that embarrassed before.

Then he shrugged it off and grinned. "That was amazing! You're incredible!" He smiled brilliantly at Manjoume, who stared at him for a few moments before shaking his head.

"What about you? What did you do to him?" Manjoume waved one hand to the dust. There was also, Fubuki noticed, a faint hint of scorched meat in the air, that didn't include his fish. He would still have to cook that.

"I'm an ice mage," Fubuki told him, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, well, not really. What I really am is a bard. But I have ice mage powers and I have the training. Mom and Dad insisted the third time I made it snow on my sister's birthday."

Manjoume tilted his head. "What's so wrong about that?"

"Her birthday is on Midsummer's Day," Fubuki admitted. He hesitated before he asked something else. "Um, if I can save that fish, would you like to share it with me?" He wrinkled his nose. "Maybe a little farther down the beach, though?"

He wasn't sure if Manjoume would agree. Then slowly, the merman nodded. “I know a good place."

Fubuki grinned. Asuka wouldn’t believe this.

The End

Notes: Fubuki will also offer Manjoume a cloak later. Not that he would need it, unless he's going to spend time on land. I might do more with this later.

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #ygo gx #GXRarePairsWeek #stormshipping #manjoume x fubuki #fubuki x manjoume #tenjoin fubuki #manjoume jun

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vanessakirbyfans · 3 years

Link

Vanessa Kirby suggests we meet on the Mall, the central location for her on-screen triumph as the young Princess Margaret in The Crown. I’m standing outside the shuttered Institute of Contemporary Arts when she strides into view, a slender, leggy figure with bleached hair and brilliant blue eyes, clad in trademark black, but for her gleaming white Converse trainers.

"I haven’t been here since we were filming!" she marvels through her mask, gazing up the processional avenue towards Buckingham Palace. "I was whizzing up the road on a motorbike, holding onto the back of Matthew Goode [as Antony Armstrong-Jones] and feeling so exhilarated about what on Earth was happening to my life – being in a job I loved, playing someone I loved."

Her ebullient mood was dented when Margaret’s handbag, into which she’d put her own phone, was blown away from between her feet, and an opportunistic passer-by ran off with it. "By the time I could check Find My iPhone, it was already in Leicester Square," she says. "Of course, the costume department were furious because the bag was vintage and a one-off." We both laugh, rather ruefully, for such anecdotes already seem to belong to a more carefree time. This bright, crisp lunchtime in lockdown, the Mall is all but deserted –there would be no need for roadblocks or filming at dawn today – while the roles Kirby is here to discuss are light-years away from her embodiment of a pampered royal party girl.

The morning of our meeting, Pieces of a Woman has launched on Netflix to rapturous reviews and critical acclaim that has seen Kirby, in her first lead role, picked as a front-runner for the award season’s most coveted best-actress gongs.

It is not, however, an easy watch. Kirby plays Martha, a first-time mother whose baby dies moments after being born; the film follows Martha’s subsequent disintegration, alongside that of her close relationships. Her labour, which comes at the start of the film, is some 26 minutes of one unbroken take that manages to be simultaneously intimate and menacing as the camera swoops around the apartment and hovers beside the traumatised protagonists.

Kirby’s performance is astonishingly unselfconscious, which is the more surprising since she never went to drama school (turning down the offer of a place at Lamda in favour of stage roles at Bolton’s Octagon Theatre) and says she couldn't bring herself to dance in front of her friends. "I’m the one who sits in the corner and watches." She describes seeing herself on-screen as "disconcerting", and "not a very natural human experience", and indeed even finds making Zoom calls a trial. "There’s nothing to hide behind!"

For Pieces of a Woman, the director Kornel Mundruczo decided that the birth scene would be the first to be shot, she tells me, as we stroll around St James’s Park, conducting ourselves like a couple of spies in a Le Carré novel. "I knew I’d have to be naked, and literally open my legs and give birth in front of a group of strangers I’d only met that morning. I was actually quite thankful – I thought, the rest of it’s going to be a lot easier."

In fact, she says, she found herself swept away by the emotion of the story. "Normally, it’s so hard to forget there are machines in your face, but I had no idea that a camera was even there." Was it traumatic to act? "The first time we shot it, I was literally sobbing for 10 minutes afterwards. I couldn’t get out of it. My brain was telling me it wasn’t real, but my unconscious didn’t know the difference, especially with having a real baby in my arms.

"Kornel came over onto the bed and held me so tight. He didn’t let go of me for five minutes, and he said, 'Just remember this feeling.' That really helped me for the rest of the movie, when the character doesn’t express anything, but almost has to be doing the howling without speaking a word."

Kirby took her research seriously, even asking a mother-to-be –a total stranger – to allow her to be present in the delivery room at the birth of her son in a north-London hospital. "I remember every single second of it," the actress says emphatically. "I was there, glued to my seat, for seven hours, not even a loo break! I was just amazed, in awe. I saw a woman completely surrender and go on this spiritual journey, which involved indescribable pain, clearly, but also ecstasy. It gave me a whole new respect for women and how powerful they are, and a new empathy for men, because they feel so helpless. And obviously, seeing the baby come out was the most incredible thing in the world I’ve ever seen, by far. After he was born, all of the mother’s colour returned, she looked like an angel, she had a kind of holy glow." Bathetically, it was only then that the couple recognised Kirby. "They were going, 'Oh my God, it’s Princess Margaret! This is so weird!'"

The experience has given her a new philosophy on life, she says. "I was watching the mother go through these contractions, which were excruciating, and the pushing, and then there was a moment of calm, and of expansion. And so, when I’m going through things in my life, I say to myself, this is like a contraction, surrender to it, because there might be something born from it. Sometimes we don’t want that; when we’re feeling something horrible, we want it to pass as far as possible. I’m teaching myself to allow it to be there and not resist or push it away, and that’s because of that woman."

But her character’s storyline also demanded that Kirby understand the experience of stillbirth. A friend introduced her to a woman who had lost her baby Luciana under eerily similar circumstances to those in Martha’s narrative. "She shared everything with me." They have become close friends, and the film’s ending is dedicated to Luciana. Kirby continues to work with Sands, the Stillbirth and Neonatal Death charity, and is voluble in her admiration of the Duchess of Sussex and Chrissy Teigen, both of whom have recently spoken out about their own experiences of miscarriage.

"I feel so close to them and so proud of them for breaking that silence," she says. "Meghan is probably the last person who would feel comfortable sharing her very personal, intimate feelings. It’s that courage that I want to continue to honour. What they’re saying is, if you’ve been through it, we have too, we share your story. I think that makes you feel less lonely. But one in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage, which is far more than I knew about. Society finds it difficult to hold space for that kind of pain."

Her parents, to whom she is very close, have both seen the film and wept throughout, she says. As if on cue, her phone pings, and her eyes soften when she checks the message; it’s a childhood friend who herself miscarried, getting in touch to say how much the film has meant to her.

The integrity of Kirby’s performance has already netted her the Volpi Cup for Best Actress at the Venice Film Festival. "It doesn’t seem real," she says. "I have it in its case – I wouldn’t have it on display, it looks like a football trophy – but occasionally I glance at it and think, 'Did that really happen? Or did I make it up in a weird dream?'" In a similar vein, she is reluctant to engage with the Oscar buzz surrounding her. "I don’t even know when they are," she admits. "My 13-year-old self would have a heart attack. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it!"

Kirby’s other film, The World to Come, is set in mid-19th-century America but touches on the same themes of bereavement and redemption. The central character Abigail, played by Katherine Waterston, has also lost her young daughter, and in her grief, turns away from her husband to have an affair with Tallie, her free-spirited, flame-haired neighbour. "I was glad I was playing Tallie rather than Abigail, because it might have been a bit too much," Kirby confesses – though without giving away spoilers, that role is pretty traumatic too...

The screenplay is taken from the short story of the same name by Jim Shepard, which was inspired by an entry he found in an antique diary: 'My best friend’s moved away, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.' "It was one woman’s voice, like an echo from the past, and we’ll never know who she was," says Kirby. "The World to Come really educated me about what life was like for women not that long ago. They didn’t have a choice about anything they did with their time. You were owned by the house, and the man, and you had no freedom outside that. The best thing about doing this mad job sometimes is having your ignorance illuminated. I gravitate towards things that push beyond my experience, I want to go to places I don’t know, I’m not familiar with."

The experience of making both films has changed her profoundly. "I can’t do anything unless it means something to me now," she says. "It’s a better way to work, because you’re not focused on yourself at all. So maybe I’ll only work once every 10 years!"

To ensure that this is not the case, and in order to find more untold, female-led stories, her ambition is now to set up her own production company. "Even a few years ago, a film about a woman losing a baby would have been unthinkable. There are so many voiceless people, and I have a voice in this industry, and I want to make sure the tribe is represented properly."

It is undeniably awkward, therefore, that her male co-stars in the films, Shia LaBeouf and Casey Affleck, both of whom play violent, abusive husbands, have been called out for their treatment of women. In December, the British singer FKA Twigs filed a lawsuit against LaBeouf, her ex-partner, alleging that he "hurts women. He uses them. He abuses them, both physically and mentally". While LaBeouf largely denied the accusations, he admitted in a statement to The New York Times: "I have a history of hurting the people closest to me. I’m ashamed of that history and am sorry to those I hurt. There is nothing else I can really say."

Meanwhile, Affleck was sued by two female crew members working on his 2010 film I’m Still Here, one of whom accused him of sexual harassment. He denied the allegations, and the lawsuits were settled out of court, but he later told the Associated Press: "I behaved in a way, and I allowed others to behave in a way, that was really unprofessional, and I’m sorry."

Kirby is understandably reluctant to get into any of this. "I can’t comment on a legal case that’s going on in someone’s personal life," she says. "I feel really protective of Pieces, so that’s what I want to speak about. Because it came out at eight this morning, all I can think about is the mothers I spoke to, and wanting them to be my focus. I just know my job is to honour them."

Perhaps counter-intuitively, starring in Pieces has awakened in her the desire for a family of her own. "It’s definitely made me want a baby, for sure," she says; but she hasn’t currently got a partner, having split up from Callum Turner (Frank Churchill in last year’s Emma), whom she met when they co-starred in the 2014 film Queen & Country. "This year has made me think a lot about the home I want to create. I like the idea of inviting someone into a space that’s mine, preferably before I have kids."

In the near future, however, Kirby has nothing on her plate except for getting through a third lockdown. "I’m free as a bird! I’ve read a lot of stuff, and said no to a lot of stuff..." She currently shares a flat in Tooting, south London, with her sister Juliet, an assistant director, and two friends. "I was just about to move out to live on my own in north London – my God, I would have been so lonely! My sister saved me. It was so nice to have routines together. We were trying to take a bit of exercise, cooking together, watching films that made us feel better, drinking wine on Friday nights..."

By now, having circled St James’s Park several times, we are strolling back towards the Corinthia Hotel, where Kirby has a full programme of Zoom interviews lined up for the afternoon. "That’s why I’m so happy to have actually had the chance to go out and meet you in real life," she says enthusiastically. "It’s funny when everything in your life closes down, and you have to sit with yourself, and you suddenly notice all the things you have and you’re grateful for. I hope that feeling never goes away – I will never underestimate how lucky I am."

#Vanessa Kirby #Pieces of a Woman #The World to Come #Interview #Articles

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cheeriecherry · 4 years

Text

Birds Of A Feather [2/7]

Hawks x Fem!Reader

Warnings: like, one swear

Part 2/7

It’s been a week since you started your new position at Hawks’ hero agency. It’s a nice workplace, very accommodating for the staff, and the sidekicks and interns you work with are friendly and sociable. But there’s still a little piece of you that’s bitter.

You appreciated the job, especially when you discovered what your monthly paycheck would be, but the whole place was just so damn...busy. If you’d known that you’d maintain your hectic lifestyle after moving to Japan, you never would’ve come in the first place.

On top of that, despite your presence being requested by the man himself, you’d yet to actually meet your new boss. Not a conversation, a text, a simple hello, or even a red feather. At this point, you were wondering if the guy even existed.

You decide to mull it over some more on your afternoon lunch hour. You find your usual seat in the staff lounge, and pull out a container of chicken curry.

“Hey Y/N! Hawks says he wants to see you in his office!”

You pause with a forkful of food halfway to your mouth, glancing over at the young sidekick who’d just bounced in. “Can it wait until after lunch?” you ask, hoping to at least finish your meal before dealing with whatever you were wanted for.

The sidekick looks sympathetic. “Sorry,” she says, “but I don’t think so. He asked me to tell you to bring your food…”

You sigh deeply, but thank her for passing the information on. Don’t shoot the messenger, and all that. You begrudgingly pack your things back up and bid farewell to the few people in the room, all of which are ominously quiet.

That didn’t bode well.

----

A few minutes later finds you outside Hawks’ office, balancing your lunch container in one hand while you knock on his doorframe with the other.

His door is wide open, and you can see him sitting at his desk, facing the window and the view of the city. He probably knew you were there before you knocked, but there was no harm in being polite… though he might appreciate the humour of you walking in like you owned the place.

“You wanted to see me, Boss?”

He spins around in his chair, a charming smile gracing his features. You wonder idly if he’d planned that little spiel, and if so, how long he’d been sitting like that for.

“That I did, chickadee! Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable, eat with me.”

You do as you’re asked.

“Sorry for not seeing to you sooner. It’s been such a busy week, villains and disasters all over the place. I swear, I’ve been to every end of the country.”

You sit tidily on the chair, legs crossed and wings tucked up neatly behind you.

“I understand,” you tell him, “you’re number two, after all. You’re in high demand.”

Hawks smiles wider, but you get the feeling it’s lacking some genuity. You don’t call him out on it, though.

“That’s a relief,” he sighs, slouching back a little. “I looked into you a bit before I hired you, y’know? Gotta make sure you had a good track record, blah blah, PR crap, blah, anyways. The reports said you were a pretty easygoing person. I’m glad they were right!”

You pray he doesn’t notice the slight ruffle of your feathers. Easygoing? Is that what people thought of you? You supposed there were worse things to be known for, but you? Easygoing? Maybe you’d become an actress if the whole hero gig didn’t work out for you, if you’d fooled that many people.

Easygoing. Yeah right. Burnt out, exhausted, apathetic, those were all accurate descriptors. But fucking easygoing?! Hah.

“Hey, you alright, kid?”

You’re about to ask him what he means, to tell him you’re fine and completely unbothered, but your stomach has other plans. Right when you open your mouth to speak, a loud growl interrupts you, aggressively sounding in the quiet of the room.

His grin softens a bit, a touch more kindness apparent on his face. He’s concerned.

“I didn’t mean to take your lunch hour away,” he apologizes, “I had actually wanted to catch you earlier today, but you were on patrol. I figured it wouldn’t be very cool of me to approach you and get swarmed by fans. Not productive for conversation, that.”

You shrug. “I haven’t taken it personally.” In fact, you hadn’t taken it at all. He could have never spoken to you ever, and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. You were here to do your job, and anything else was an unguaranteed bonus.

“Anyways,” he pulls out a paper bucket of what looks like KFC, and pops the lid off, “eat up. Don’t need my favourite employee dropping out of the sky from exhaustion.”

He digs into his own food, and you take yours out.

“If exhaustion could do me in, I would have fallen out of the sky a long time ago,” you mumble, immediately afterwards spooning food into your face.

Hawks bites off a small piece of chicken. “Whadya mean?” And you curse yourself for forgetting he’s sensitive to sound.

You chew your food pensively, making sure to swallow before you speak (unlike him…). “It’s like. Okay. Wing quirks are pretty rare where I’m from, yeah? In my old job, I was the only airborne hero for five hundred kilometers. I got called all over the place, back and forth, never in one place for very long, almost never at home in my own bed. I was sort of...uh…”

“Spread thing?” he supplies.

You nod. “Spread thin. It wasn’t healthy for me. Anywhere that makes you grow to hate your own quirk can’t possibly be good for you.”

“Now hold up, chickadee,” he interrupts, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the desk. His eyes are wide and surprised, like he’s unable to fathom your words. “How could you possibly hate your own quirk?”

You think for a moment. “Hate is maybe a strong word,” you admit, “but there’s definitely some contempt there. Flying used to be my favourite passtime, y’know? The views, the wind, the sun, the silence. And then one day I woke up and thought ‘god, I hope they don’t make me fly today’.”

Hawks picks a little at his lunch, but is far to engrossed in your tale to pay much attention to it.

“Yikes,” he says.

“Yeah.”

You’re both quiet for a moment before you start speaking again.

“Two weeks after that happened, I moved here. Figured a change might be nice, good for my head, or whatever.”

“And how’s that working out?”

“I still hate flying.”

The conversation ebbs and flows after that, with Hawks not supplying much personal insight on the matter, despite you just spilling your guts to him. You don’t mind, though, and he doesn’t strike you as the kind of person to open up very easily. You probably would have been more disgruntled if he’d offered you some kind of similar story.

The two of you talk a little about work, what your old agency was like, where you went to school, and the questions centered around your life, and none prying into his. You make note of that, and file it away for later.

By the end of the hour, you’re sufficiently full of chicken curry, and your boss looks like he’s fairing the same (you’re not sure how he managed to pack away an entire bucket for fried chicken by himself).

“Thanks for lunch, Boss,” you tell him with a smile, an unspoken ‘it was kind of weird’ in your tone. If he picks up on it, he doesn’t say anything.

He does, however, stop you at the door, tugging you back into the room by your collar with a single red feather.

“Say, chickadee,” his voice is coy, “how’s about we make the afternoon more fun?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Come patrolling with me,” he clarifies.

“Why?”

“Flying’s more fun when you’re not alone!” he says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You doubt him, thinking back to all the times you’d ever flown with someone else (re: none). You relent, deciding to entertain his plan.

“Fine. But don’t fall behind, okay? I take my patrols seriously.”

The strange smile returns to his face.

----

After packing up your dishes and throwing away your trash, you follow Hawks to the stairwell. He said it was best to take off from the roof, if you didn’t want to get bombarded by fans.

“Ah, but I’m sure your fans would love to see you!” you tease, marching carefully up the steps. “It wouldn’t take too long, surely?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, pausing so suddenly that you almost get a faceful of his feathers.

“Well sure, if they were just my fans. Most people have seen me before, though, flying around, fighting crime. But you? You’re new. Your fans in Japan haven’t gotten to meet you yet.”

You tilt your head. “I...don’t have fans, boss.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He swivels around on the step, wings brushing quietly against the cramped cement walls. His expression is one of exasperation, and a hint of disbelief. Once he sees your genuine confusion, however, he sighs. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You shake your head. “I’ve only been here like two weeks. How could I have any significant following?”

He looks at you with a fondness reserved for naive children, or puppies. It’s a little patronizing, in your opinion.

“International heroes are pretty big here, you know?” he explains, “and you, little chickadee, were voted number four on the overseas popularity poll this year. Your fanbase here is rivaled only by a handful of heroes, most of which are in Japan’s top ten.”

You’re shocked, to say the least, and Hawks takes your silence as cue to continue walking.

You dodge his wings again, and resume following him.

“How could I be popular and not know it?” you ask. “Surely someone would have approached me by now-”

“Chickadee, when was the last time you were on the ground-”

“This morning-”

“-in the daytime?”

“Oh.”

You think back a little. You’ve patrolled in the skies since you started working at the agency, and your shifts started before sunrise. Plus, you usually flew home, well after sunset. It was just easier than trying to fit into a car and deal with traffic.

“I guess...not since the day I arrived.”

“Exactly! No one knew you were here, then. But now?” He pushes hard against the heavy metal door to the roof, taking a deep breath when it opens and a breeze blows through. “Now, all of Japan knows we work together!”

You saunter out into the sunlight, basking for a few seconds in the warmth. But the thought of your fans quickly overtakes your mind again, and the relaxation is lost.

“Are you sure it’s not fame by affiliation,” you wonder, “because seriously, I didn’t have fans back home. I’ve never been stopped for an autograph, or asked for a photo. I’m cool with that. I just don’t want people to like me because I’m near you sometimes.”

Hawks steps up on the lip of the roof, wings spread wide and overlooking the city.

He stays like that for a few seconds, and you note the deep tiredness in his posture, behind his eyes. You’ve seen it in your mirror too many times.

He’s just as exhausted as you are.

“Thus is the way of the world,” he mumbles, and you’re not sure you’re meant to hear it.

But then he perks up, as quickly as a light switch. He turns on his heel to face you, mischief and playfulness glinting in his smile. “I’ll race you to the bank tower? If I win, you gotta go on patrol with me tomorrow, too.”

You shrug, and take off into the sky. It’s not much of a fight, though. He has agility and familiarity on his side, and he’s waiting for you by the time you finally arrive at your destination.

You don’t mind.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #reader insert #winged reader au

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pearlsephoni · 4 years

Text

When Immortal Meets Ineffable

Can also be read on AO3

Rating: G

Fandoms: Good Omens, The Old Guard

Pairings: Joe/Nicky, Aziraphale/Crowley (ofc)

Summary: Nicky's love for books has introduced him to many wonders, but he never anticipated meeting a pair of men whose existence seems just as impossible as his own. Or: a gay, immortal couple walks into an old bookshop owned by a gay, angel/demon couple.

A/N: The sign on Aziraphale's bookshop door is real, I copied the text from here lol And I owe my life to this 3D recreation of the shop Also this is my first time attempting to publish a fic on here, so pardon any formatting weirdness. More author’s notes can be found on the AO3 page!

Immortality was exhausting. It was impossible to build a normal life and settle down without sparking suspicion, so no single place could be “home” for very long. They couldn’t build a family, or climb the ladder of a career, or even build many friendships outside of their core group.

Without the more…“standard” goals available to them, each member of the Old Guard ended up setting their own personal quests. Andy learned every language and style of martial arts she could. Booker challenged himself to try a new whiskey at every bar they visited. Joe was close to completing his goal of visiting every possible art museum in Eurasia, and would soon be expanding his scope to the world. And Nicky was determined to read as many of the world’s books as possible.

But that wasn’t the only reason why he and Joe ended up seemingly visiting every bookshop in Europe. Living forever meant you had an infinite amount of time to lose and find things, and unfortunately for Nicky, his list of lost items included a near-first edition copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy.

Books didn’t hold the same appeal for Joe, but he was still always willing to join his life partner in his visits to bookshops. What caused him chagrin wasn’t the visits, but the seemingly futile quest to find such a rare copy of a classic book. So when Nicky immediately tugged his jacket back on to head into London, Joe was a bit more reluctant than usual.

“Hayati, wouldn’t we have better luck looking in museums for something so rare?”

“I’m not just looking for La Commedia, my heart,” Nicky reminded him with a small smile. “I need a new book to read, too.”

“Of course, and that’s why you are going to Waterstones and not another small, old bookshop?” That small smile turned guilty, and Joe couldn’t help letting out a sigh. “Do you have a destination in mind, or will you be wandering again?”

“Why don’t you come with me and find out?”

It wasn’t fair of Nicky to use his rare, broad smiles to win their smaller bickers, he knew it. But even a relationship with the love of his life wouldn’t have lasted almost a millennium without the occasional cheap trick. And it was so hard to feel guilty when his little tricks resulted in Joe’s hand warmly wrapped around his as they walked through London.

As it so happened, he did have a destination in mind: A.Z. Fell & Co., an old bookshop that he remembered seeing on a random street corner in London. It had been closed the first (and last) time he tried to pay it a visit, all those years ago, and the sign on the door detailing the store hours simply raised more questions than answers for Nicky:

Bookshop Opening Hours:

I open the shop on most weekdays about 9:30 or perhaps 10am. While occasionally I open the shop as early as 8, I have been known not to open until 1, except on Tuesday. I tend to close about 3:30pm, or earlier if something needs tending to. However, I might occasionally keep the shop open until 8 or 9 at night, you never know when you might need some light reading. On days that I am not in, the shop will remain closed. On weekends, I will open the shop during normal hours unless I am elsewhere. Bank holidays will be treated in the usual fashion, with early closing on Wednesdays, or sometimes Fridays. (For Sundays see Tuesdays.)

-A.Z. Fell, Bookseller

“It’s a miracle this place is still running,” Joe muttered now, squinting at the wordy sign. Nicky was more interested in the sign hanging next to it, blissfully simpler and blessedly flipped to read, “Open.” The door was unlocked, and rang with a cheerful jingle as the immortals pushed it open.

“Hello there! Welcome to A.Z. Fell & Co!”

Nicky had barely been able to fully take in the warm, crowded space of the bookshop before his attention was pulled to a small, pale man dressed in a white suit. He seemingly appeared out of thin air from behind a small desk next to a bookshelf to the left. He had a bright, welcoming smile, and looked positively cherubic with his light blonde curls and rosy cheeks. “How may I help you today?”

“Oh, I-”

“We’re just looking,” Joe cut in, giving Nicky a gentle nudge. It was a reminder enough not to draw attention with their unusual search. “Wanted to see what we could find in such a unique shop.”

“Lovely! Well, if you need any help at all, don’t hesitate to ask!”

“Thank you,” Nicky replied with a smile, before wandering over to the cluster of bookshelves on their right, pulling Joe with him.

He always lost track of time in bookshops. Even Joe, for all he insisted that Nicky was the reader, could get lost in the trinkets and random findings to be seen in an old shop. Maybe that was why, for all their battle-honed instincts and attention to detail, they didn’t realize someone else had entered the store until a new voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Angel!”

“Ah, Crowley! What a pleasant surprise! What’re you doing here?”

“Just wanted to see what you’ve got in stock.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not, I was going to ask you to lunch.”

“Oh! Well...that’s very kind of you, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t just close my shop in the middle of the day!”

“Yes you can, it’s your shop, if anyone can, it’s you.”

“But I have customers! Like...like these young men!”

Nicky, with a thousand years of life behind him, never thought of himself nor Joe as “young.” No matter how ageless they were, every year weighed on them, a burden that was only bearable because they didn’t have to weather it alone. So it didn’t occur to him that they were the “young men” the shop owner referred to, until the small, pale man suddenly appeared at his elbow. “Hello there! May I help you with anything?”

A Genovese curse flew from his lips, followed by a grunt after Joe gently pinched him. Nicky smiled apologetically at the owner. “Sorry, ah...we’re alright, just looking.”

“Yes, well…” The shop owner had a confused tilt to his eyebrows, at odds with his kind smile. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy, but...was that Old Genovese you were speaking?”

“You recognize it?” Nicky blurted out before he could stop himself. It had been centuries since either of the immortals had met someone else who knew the language.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s been a while since I’ve heard it.” A pink tint had risen to the small blonde’s cheeks, and his eyes now had a proud glint to them. “That’s very impressive, I didn’t think anyone spoke it anymore!”

“No...neither did we.” He glanced at Joe, and was met with eyes that looked as disconcerted as he felt.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Please let me know if you need help with anything!” The shop owner cheerfully strolled back to the counter, where his friend - Crowley, Nicky remembered - was staring at him and Joe with what felt like suspicion, even through his sunglasses. The redhead murmured something to the blonde that made the latter glance back at them with another smile, one that Nicky returned before he quietly urged Joe behind another bookshelf.

“What the hell?” Joe hissed as soon as they were out of eyeline of the shop owner.

“Language, tesoro mio.”

Joe’s words switched to old Maghrebi, but remained just as confused and indignant. “Nico, we haven’t met anyone else who speaks Genovese in decades, maybe even centuries, if we don’t count linguists.”

“I know.”

“So how does an owner of an old bookshop recognize it?”

“We’ve seen some books that are much older than what we usually see in a shop like this. Maybe he recognized it from a book?” Even as he uttered the words, Nicky knew the explanation was pathetic. The look of disbelief he received from his lover let him know he wasn’t alone in thinking that.

“He said it’s been a while since he’s heard it,” Joe reminded him. “And he recognized it as it was spoken, not written down somewhere.”

“What are you trying to say? That he’s another immortal? One we somehow haven’t dreamed of in all this time?”

“No, of course not...but…” Joe peered at the shop owner and his friend through a gap in the books. “Maybe there’s something different about him. Maybe immortals aren’t the only strange people in the world.”

“Even if that were true, Yusuf, don’t you think we would have run into one before? Our abilities have been noticed before, by people who didn’t know what to look for. We of all people would have noticed if there were other powers out there.”

“Unless they do as much as we do to stay out of notice.”

It was Nicky’s turn to peer at the odd couple through the books, except this time, the redhead, Crowley, was looking right at him. Or at least, in their direction. He jerked away from the bookshelf and immediately moved deeper into the shop, tugging Joe with him. “We can talk with the others about it later. For now, let’s buy something and leave.”

“Still determined to find your book?”

Nicky offered a sweet smile to Joe, but didn’t bother hiding the mirth in his eyes. “Of course, my heart.”

He didn’t end up finding the book he was looking for, much to his disappointment and Joe’s quiet amusement. But he did find an old, old Italian Bible that stirred distant memories of a classroom reciting verses, and that was enough to justify the visit.

Satisfied in his choice, he moved towards the cashier register, only to be pulled up short by Joe. Nicky furrowed his brows in confusion - for someone who had been so reluctant to come, Joe suddenly seemed very keen on staying. He glanced back at him to find those dark eyes trained on the men behind the counter, one finger to his lips. Battle instincts kicked in, and he obediently trained his hearing to the low muttering coming from the other men.

“Now really, Crowley, it’s simply not possible! Even if the Almighty really did send spies after us, I would at least recognize them. I’ve never seen those men in my life!”

“Then maybe they’re demons. We’ve always had better corporeal disguises anyway. Would explain why we don’t recognize them.”

“Have you ever seen demons behave like that with each other?”

“Like what?”

“Oh come now, you must have felt it. The energy around them is downright bursting with love! It’s just like…”

“...Angel, like what?”

“W-well...like two people in love. Nothing at all like you demons behave.”

“‘You demons’? Might I remind you of who saved the most valuable books here, Aziraphale?”

It could’ve been just another argument between an old couple, especially an old married couple. There was no mistaking the love and pure affection that drenched every bickering phrase between them. But where Nicky had thought “Angel” was a sweet nickname, the casual use of terms like “demons” and “the Almighty” stirred a deeper sense of suspicion awake in him...and a rush of exhilaration. The sensible majority of his mind told him there was no earthly way he was staring at an angel and a demon. Even if angels and demons were real, they wouldn’t own an old bookshop, or walk around dressed like a dandy or an aged member of a rock band.

But a small part of him, the part of him that had him wandering to a church on calm Sundays and uttering panicked prayers over Joe’s body in the middle of battle, felt a thrill at the idea that he was staring at proof. Proof that his centuries of faith, his short-lived livelihood in the church, wasn’t in vain. When he finally tore his eyes away from the odd couple to look at Joe, he was met with a small smile of understanding under an unsure gaze. Of course his love understood what was running through his mind, even without a single word uttered between them.

Nicky took a steadying breath before he finally nodded at Joe, giving his hand a light squeeze. The shop owner and his...friend (partner?) were still bickering when they approached the cashier, and Nicky caught snippets of something about a church, a bomb, a satchel of books, before the argument was cut short by their arrival at the counter.

“Ah, gentlemen, hello again! Did you find everything alright?” the small blonde man - Azira...phale..? - greeted them with a wide smile, while Crowley simply stared at them with an unnervingly straight face. His gaze prickled at Nicky’s awareness, despite his best attempts to ignore him and return Aziraphale’s smile.

“I didn’t find the book I was looking for, but you have many rare gems here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry you couldn’t find it!”

“Don’t be. We have visited almost every bookshop in Europe in search of it,” Joe snorted with a grin. “At this point it’ll take a miracle to find it.”

Aziraphale perked up at Joe’s response, and glanced eagerly at Crowley...who returned the blonde’s hopeful smile with a stony stare. A moment of silence passed before the redhead finally muttered, “Sounds like you won’t be finding it any time soon.”

“No, but that’s alright. Seeing all these wonderful little shops offers a special kind of joy,” Nicky murmured with a reassuring smile to Aziraphale. “You should be proud of this shop. It’s a lovely refuge in this city.”

The owner looked a bit crestfallen, but brightened at Nicky’s smile and words. “That’s very kind of you to say! I’ve had it for quite a while, so it’s turned into a home of sorts for me. I’m so glad it feels that way to my patrons as well!”

Crowley’s attention was back on Nicky, and even though he couldn’t see the redhead’s eyes, he didn’t feel as burdened by the scrutiny anymore. It felt somehow softer now, more of a mild annoyance as the transaction was carried out. Crowley had been so quiet throughout their visit that when he suddenly spoke up, the surprise nearly made Nicky drop the small paper bag containing his book. “Just out of curiosity...what book were you looking for?”

“Ah...an early edition of The Divine Comedy in the original Italian. First edition, if possible.”

“...Dante’s Divine Comedy?” Crowley repeated, skepticism practically dripping off his words. “You’re looking for a first edition from the late Middle Ages?”

Nicky could hear the rustle of Joe straightening just behind him, ready to defend his admittedly-futile quest. He shifted just enough to hook their pinkies together in reassurance while he shot a small smile at Crowley. “More just seeing if it’s possible to find outside of a museum.”

Crowley nodded, but he still had a small frown of disbelief on his lips as he wandered towards the bookshelves at the very back of the shop. Aziraphale watched him meander away with wariness and hope lining his eyes, a combination of emotions that made Nicky wonder what kind of history the odd couple shared to prompt that kind of response.

“Nicolo,” Joe murmured, pulling him out of his idle curiosity. “We should be going. Andy will wonder what happened to us.”

“Right...yes, of course.” Nicky smiled again at Aziraphale, who suddenly looked panicked at their impending departure. “Thank you again.”

“Oh, are you leaving so soon? A-are you sure I can’t help you find anything else? I have other first editions that might interest you!”

“Really, it’s alright-”

“Here we are.” Crowley was suddenly back at Aziraphale’s side, tossing a book onto the countertop with a carelessness that became alarming when Nicky realized what he was staring at: an old, worn volume, the cover made of what used to be red leather, but was now faded into a dull brown. Pressed into the leather, and traced with gold flakes, were the words “La Commedia.” Nicky reached out to brush the worn cover, gingerly lifting it to reveal the title page, where he could read the publication date: 1438. “This...this is…”

“Not quite first edition, but about as good as you’re gonna get outside of a museum.” Crowley’s voice was casual, as if he had simply found any old book. But his smirk was smug, the gravity of his achievement definitely not lost on him, especially when Aziraphale was staring at him in what could only be described as adoration.

“How...how did you find this?”

“Call it a little miracle. How much does a little miracle cost, angel?”

“Oh, ah...well, the best miracles are priceless, wouldn’t you say?”

Nicky’s gaze jerked away from the book to stare at Aziraphale in shock. “No, I’m sorry, I cannot in good faith take this without paying you.”

“No, really-”

“Please, I insist-”

The shopowner was strangely reluctant to give Nicky a price, but with Joe’s help, they were able to settle on an amount. By the time they left the bookshop, it was even later than they had planned on leaving, but Nicky was in such a daze of disbelief over his luck, Joe ended up being the one to call Andy.

“Boss, we know, we’re sorry, but you’ll never believe- no, trust me, even Booker will get excited over this. We’ll be there soon, it will be worth the wait, I promise.” He laughed as he tucked his phone away, shaking his head fondly at Nicky. “Well, my heart, I hope this find is worth Andy’s wrath. She is not happy with us.”

“Yusuf...who were those men?” Nicky was staring numbly into the bag, still not believing the impossibly old book he held in his hands.

“What do you mean?”

He finally looked away from his new treasure to meet Joe’s eyes. “Do you think...that maybe…”

“What? That an angel and demon helped us find a book?”

“Stranger things have been true.”

“Perhaps…” Joe’s arm wrapped around Nicky’s waist, tucking him against his body to drop a kiss to his temple. “Whatever those men were, they were kind. I hope the bookshop continues to do well.”

“Mm...thank you for coming with me.” Nicky’s smile was full of adoration, and earned him another kiss, this time on his lips.

“Of course, hayati. Anything for you.”

“Anything? Well, there’s another book I’ve been looking for-”

“Buuuuut Andy and Booker might not approve.”

After almost 1000 years, he should have been able to better resist the effect of Joe’s cheeky smile. But after almost 1000 years, Nicky wasn’t in the habit of denying himself the little joys to be found in life, especially when they came from this impossible man.

37 notes · View notes

loveisblindfanfictionbka · 3 years

Text

Love Is Blind: Chapter One

“Come on Robs, what could it hurt?”

Robyn looked over at her friend and frowned.

“Online Dating? Really? Do you know the kind of psychos on these sites?”

Leandra sighed, “Girl, ain’t nobody saying marry them but at least try it out. It’s been years since your divorce. Why are you still so gunshy?”

“Well maybe because my ex-husband ripped my heart out my chest.”

“Isn’t that a little dramatic? You and your ex-husband were both childish and lost. I still don’t think you should’ve gotten divorced either.”

“You and everyone else seems to have my failed marriage all figured out.”

“Look, forget about all of that, you need to get back out there, even if it’s just for a night of fun. It wouldn’t kill you.”

“You know what, just to shut you up, I’ll do it.”

“Good, I got your profile all set up, you just need to approve it and submit it.”

“How in the hell? This is the first time we’ve spoken about this.”

“Yea but this was just a minor technicality because I was gonna set you up anyway.”

“Ugh….get away from me.”

Leandra laughed as she slid her laptop over for Robyn to review the profile. After a few minutes, Robyn nodded her head in approval and pressed publish.

“So now what?”

“Now you wait to see if you get any hits or you just peruse others’ profiles too.”

Robyn was shaking her head before Leandra even finished her statement, “I am not perusing anything. I don’t even want to do this right now.”

“So let the men come to you, it is the natural order of things.”

“I’ma divorce you next.”

“You love me so whatever.”

Robyn laughed as she leaned her head on Leandra’s shoulder, “Le, do you really think this will help?”

“I think it’ll give you something to do while you try to get your life right again. I love you and I know you and I know that your divorce is something that you’re still trying to understand but your life doesn’t have to stop while you’re doing that. Things don’t have to be serious. You don’t have to fall in love with anybody but it wouldn’t hurt to get from behind these walls you’ve erected and live. You owe it to yourself, if nobody else.”

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

“Daddy, come on, the movie is starting”

Chris smiled as he rushed into the living room with a big bowl of popcorn. He sat next to his 3 year old daughter, Anesa, just as the classic Disney symbol flashed across the big screen.

“You know Princess, you could’ve just paused the tv. This is just a stream.”

“No because you were supposed to be faster anyway.”

Chris chuckled as he kissed her temple. He made the right decision becoming a foster dad two years ago. The little imp had done so much to replace the empty void in his life. He had suffered so much loss, being able to give that extra love to someone felt good. An image flashed in his head and he shook it. Years ago, he thought he had someone but that relationship crashed and burned. It surprised him that he even thought about her sometimes, all these years later.

Just as he started to become enamored with the Princess and The Frog, his phone rang. Anesa glanced over at him as he stepped out into the kitchen to answer it.

“Hello?”

“CB, what’s going on, Bro?”

“Marcus, how you doing?”

“I’m good. I’m moving back to the city so I just wanted to check in and see if we could meet up one of these days.”

“Of course, I’ll see if my sister can watch my daughter so just let me know when.”

“Daughter? A lot has happened, huh?”

“Too much.”

“How’s the wife?”

“Divorced years ago. I thought you knew.”

“I thought you were joking. You really went through with it?”

“We weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye.”

“But you were together for so long since middle school, right?”

“Officially since high school but you’d think that would’ve made our life together much easier, but nope.”

“Wow. We definitely got some catching up to do. Well, I’m back officially on Friday. We can meet at Roddy’s Bar.”

“Cool. 8 good for you?”

“Perfect, Bro. See you then.”

“Bet.”

They hung up and Chris went back to watching TV with Anesa.

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

Robyn fought as much as she could to not be curious about the stupid dating app but….that only worked for so long. As she scrolled, the frown in her face just got deeper and deeper. What the hell had the world become? These men were just- no. It was hard being single. She hadn’t been single in years. Scratch that, ever. She’d never been single. She wasn’t used to being alone and being married was supposed to prevent that. Her ex-husband had literally tore her heart in two and she still hadn’t recovered. How two people so in love could be so incompatible baffled her mind to this day? Of course, her people just thought they were too young and just gave up too quickly but what would they know? They didn’t live with them 24/7. Yes, they had awesome memories but all she could remember was how alone she felt when he was in the bed right next to her. How withdrawn he had gotten in the last two years of their marriage. How unsettled she felt. Like she never knew when he would finally explode from holding everything in. She felt like she walked on eggshells her whole marriage but him asking for a divorce shook her to her very core and she had never bounced back from it. She endured his brutal silence, his emotional hardness but yet he was the one who walked away. It just never made sense to her. Just as she was about to close the app, a direct message popped up.

Subject: Hello

Body: Hi, I was browsing your profile and you seemed really interesting. I was wondering if you would like to chat.

Robyn frowned a bit but she clicked on his photo to be directed to his profile. 42 years old. Divorced. One child. College Music Professor.

He seemed harmless. His photo was full length so his face wasn’t the clearest but he looked decent. Besides he’d probably say something weird and she’d never have to meet him in person so what’s the risk and Leandra had listed her under just her initials so it’s not like he’d know her real name anyway.

Re: Hello

Body: Hi, I would love to chat with you. My name’s Anna. Yours?

A few minutes passed before she got a reply

Re: Hello

Body: Christian but my friends and family call me Chris. It’s nice to meet you Anna.

A: Chris? That must be a common name, I know a few of those.

C: I can imagine. Don’t know too many Annas though. Not the typical name of this time

A: It’s a little old school but I like it. I see you’re a music professor

C: Yup. Decided to change career paths once I got divorced a few years ago. You’re a veterinarian?”

A: Yea, I own a clinic and a shelter in the city.

C: No children?”

A: No. Seems like my animals take up all my time.

C: Understandable. Animals can be like children.

A: Definitely. How old is your child?

C: She’s three.

A: That’s an awesome age

C: Very fun and energetic

A: My friends have children so I definitely imagine. Have you lived in the city long?

C: Just a few years. I was working at another college when the possibility of tenureship opened up at Columbia. Normally that can take years so I got lucky for the invite.

A: you work at Columbia University? That is awesome

C: I think the shock still hasn’t worn off. Kind of waiting for them to take it back at some point

A: Lol when I got the keys to my clinic, I felt the same way

C: Where’d you go to school?

A: Stanford for undergrad. University of California, Davis for veterinary school.

C: Pretty far from home, huh?

A:New York has always been the place for me. I always knew I’d end up here. You?

C: I’m from down south so that’s where my soft spot is. I did my undergrad and grad at Stanford though.

A: Wow talk about a small world. It is a large school so I’m not surprised we haven’t met unless we have.

C: Probably not, don’t remember many Annas there

A: True. How do you like being a professor?

C: It’s cooler than I thought it would be. My previous job had a little bit more excitement but after some personal issues then my divorce, I had had enough excitement to last a lifetime.

A: My divorce kind of knocked me off balance so I can understand wanting to start over

C: How long were you married?

A: Three years. You?

C: Same. Together?

A: Over ten years. You?

C: Same. Bad ending?

A: I really don’t know. It wasn’t the best situation but it wasn’t the worst. I think abrupt would be a better word. You?

C: I walked away. I wasn’t the best husband but I think we really outgrew each other.

A: That can happen. How old were you?

C: 35. You?

A: 34. A lot can change in over ten years

C: True. I don’t know if she knew that though

A: did you try to tell her?

C: Honestly no but that’s partly why I walked away. I wasn’t any good for her let alone for myself. I struggled a lot emotionally back then, I still do now sometimes. She didn’t need that weight in her life

A: Did she say that or did you make that decision for her?

C: Both.

A: Ah. I’m sorry

C: No need. She was better off without me anyway

A: you still think about her?

C: I try not to. It hurts. Failure sucks.

A: tell me about it. Have you seen her over the years?

C:No. We both moved away once we got divorced. Don’t really know where she went to be honest

A: Same. Some things are just better left alone, I guess

C: True.

A: You know Chris, this was fun. I was a little nervous about this online thing

C: Really? I’ve done it once or twice before. It’s not too bad if you take it for what it is

A: And that is?

C: Just a way to meet people. Doesn’t have to go further than a conversation unless you let it

A: That is very true.

C: If it’s agreeable to you. I’d love to talk to you again

A: I’d like that

C: Great. I guess, until next time

A: Have a good night

C: You as well

Robyn closed out of the app after reading Chris’s last message. They had a lot in common, a lot more than her ex-husband. She got a little nervous when he said his name was Chris but once he clarified that his full name was Christian, she could let out a breath. Her ex-husband’s name when shortened was Chris but his full name was Christopher. Christopher was a common name but she really didn't need that reminder of him too.

Chris dropped his phone onto his nightstand just as Anesa ran into his room. He laughed as she tried to climb onto his bed before leaning over to pick her up, “what’s the matter Love Bug?”

“Can I sleep in here with you?”

“Of course you can. Did something happen?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“Aww...I’m sorry, Love Bug. Come on, get under the covers.

Anesa climbed under the blankets as Chris turned off the lights. She cuddled onto his chest and Chris hugged her close, “Comfortable?”

“Yes. Goodnight Daddy.

“Goodnight Love Bug.”

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

“So….how was it?” Leandra asked as her and Robyn sat down for breakfast.

“It was a nice conversation. He seemed like a decent guy.”

“What’s his name?”

“Christian but people call him Chris.”

“You really have a thing for Chris’s, huh?”

“Don’t say that. Chris is just a common name.”

“It is but what a coincidence.”

“Yea.”

“So what does he do?”

“He teaches music at Columbia.”

“Nice. Educated. Kids?”

“A daughter.”

“Marital status?”

“Divorced like me.”

“Guess you can share horror stories.”

Robyn chuckled, “my marriage was a failure but not a horror story. Stop it.”

“Have you spoken to Chris?’

“Not since the divorce was final. Why?”

:Leandra shrugged.

“Le, what happened?”

“Nothing. I thought I saw somebody who looked like him the other day, that’s all.”

“Where? Here? In New York?”

“Yea.”

“Please don’t tell me we moved to the same state.”

“Robs, I don’t know if it was him. I just caught his profile. It could’ve been any cute light skin guy. They are running around here galore.”

“That’s true.”

“So about your new Chris?”

“What about him?”

“What’s the next move?”

“We agreed to talk again but nothing more than that. I’m still stuck in limbo, I’m not trying to make something out of nothing.

“I guess. Are you gonna meet him?”

“Nah. Some things are just better left alone, you know.”

“Not even if you really start to like him.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m swearing off serious relationships until I fix my broken heart and I have no idea how long that’s gonna take.”

“You still love him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know but I don’t want to.”

“You were together a long time.”

“Yea and he still left me so what does that mean?”

Leandra sighed, “I don’t know. “

“Chris, who are you messaging so much?” Jessica, his sister, asked as she started stirring a pot of beans.

“I met this woman online. We’ve been talking for a few weeks.”

“Online dating? You sure that’s safe?”

“I don’t plan on meeting her so it’s not a huge deal. Just a conversation.”

“Few weeks is a long time for it to just be a conversation. You like her?”

“She seems really nice.”

“Glad you’re opening your heart up somehow.”

“I’m not opening anything up. I went down that road and have no qualms about avoiding it.”

“You know you walked away from your marriage, Chris. I don’t understand your apprehension with moving on.”

“I didn't walk away to move on. I walked away to keep from hurting her. Two different things. I’m not fit to be in a relationship, let alone a marriage. My daughter is the only woman I’m concerned about right now.”

“Anesa can’t be your whole life.”

“Who says?”

“I wish Momma was here to talk some sense into you.”

“Don’t do that, Jess.”

“What? She was the only person you listened to. Did you ever tell your ex what happened with Momma?”

“No.”

“You never took her to meet her?”

“It’s not like she was around. Auntie C raised me.”

“So when you left every weekend to see Momma in the hospital your ex never asked why?”

“She asked. I never answered.”

“Chris.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t for her to know. She didn’t need that kind of weight on her, ok?”

“You never gave her a chance to really love you, Chris.”

“Well that doesn’t really matter. She moved away and about her life. I did the same. No harm, no foul.”

“I wouldn’t quite say no harm, no foul but whatever.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don't want you to hurt this new woman because you’re still in love with your past, Chris.”

“I’m not in love with anyone so there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“And that worries me even more.”

#loveisblindfanfiction #chrianna

22 notes · View notes

brief-candle · 4 years

Text

ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇ - Laito Sakamaki

request info: succubus reader plays around with laito and makes him jealous on purpose.

they wanted her to become his girlfriend but i couldn't find a way to fit it in without the conversation looking kinda weird. and i also didn't write the scene where they did the devil's tango because this was on quotev and we gotta be family friendly pg clean over there.

i’m just posting the two things i did for dialovers bc i have nothing else to post atm,, after i finish the last request in my inbox i might write something self-indulgent... haven’t done that in a while so hmm

series: diabolik lovers.

notes: probably ooc laito, female reader, slight yandere, heavily implied nsfw (under the cut!!).

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

There was interest sparked from the moment they met eyes. Well, perhaps interest wasn't the correct word for it. Not for someone like Laito Sakamaki. To be truthful, he wasn't truly very interested with many people. Not when it was exceptionally easy to get what he wanted from them before he could move onto another of his victims.

For a short while, she seemed just as simple and easy as the rest of the people he'd bedded. Flirting back easily, smiling coyly as she did so. It was a telltale sign of interest, wasn't it? Many responded to him in that way, and from then on didn't seem to hold interest in anyone else. Only him, such a reaction born from minimal effort on his part.

What he wasn't expecting was for her to show others the same treatment with such ease, giggling along to lame jokes and getting very touchy as she did so. Everyone she seemed to interact with appeared to fall apart at the seams, heeding to her every beck and call very soon after. Seeing such a thing was strange to him, perhaps as he was not used to seeing someone else have such an effect over people. People that he was so used to controlling with the slightest lilt to his voice, the upturn of his lips having them fawning over him in an instant.

He found himself competing with her, silently declaring a war over the attention of their schoolmates. But no matter his determination that he would not lose- pride in that charm of his- he found himself losing every battle. The smallest input into a conversation from her would drive people insane with glee, the smallest of smiles raising people's moods for the entire day. Laito truly couldn't fathom how she could possibly do it, really.

For a moment he had deliberated that it may have been simply natural charm. That she simply wasn't aware of her effect on others, and had no idea that he was competing with her in the first place. However that was all very obviously disproved from the smug look in her eyes when she knew no one but him was looking. It was gone in a second, as someone had turned to talk to her once more, but there was no question that it had been there.

It seemed he'd have to up his game.

Rather than playing it tame with his ploys to steal the attention from her, he began to explore different tactics. Instead of outright fighting for attention (though no one seemed to notice that they were fighting for it), he started to use rather underhanded moves. Seducing more and more people than he'd done before, intimidating those that still stood by her, sometimes even going so far as to blackmail them. He was determined to be at the top of the food chain again, being the one that people thought of all day every day. Laito never really appreciated it, and chances were that he still wouldn't even after all of this. What he was appreciating was the entertainment- the challenge- that came from it.

What he would appreciate more is seeing her gradually break down because of it. Because of him. He was striving to reach a point where no one would even look at her, lest they risk his fury. But he'd still hold a hand out to her, to take her in and break her beyond repair, all under the guise of sympathy. Even just thinking about it got his nonexistent heart racing; her face, beautiful without a doubt, with reddened cheeks and puffy eyes that couldn't even cry any more than they had already. Those eyes, so vibrant and rich in their colour, filled with such despair and agony because of him. Though he couldn't decide if he wanted to show her off in such a state or keep her all to himself.

"What are you playing at, Mister Sakamaki?" Speak of the devil, and she may appear. Indeed, as he turned, he caught sight of you. Not that he needed to turn and face you, really, especially not with a look of confusion so feigned and practised upon his face. Yet he did so anyway, and internally delighted in seeing her.

He continued to play the innocently confused, answering: "Whatsoever do you mean?"

Though she was an exceptional actress, some of the irritation seeped through the cracks in her façade and tainted the usually affable tone in her voice as well as the sense of enchantment that lived in her eyes. She was visibly unimpressed by his faux guiltlessness, eyebrows furrowing just enough to form the slightest of creases before they were gone. Face back to neutrality, though not as beautiful as her brief frustration had been to him.

"I see," she paused, closing her eyes as he did so. If only she wouldn't do that, for she was much harder to read with her eyes closed. They were such a lovely colour, too. Thankfully she opened them once more when she continued, "I wouldn't recommend that you continue with what you're doing." As she spoke, that amiable smile came to her face again, one which didn't reach her eyes and distracted one very easily from her venomous emphasis which she delicately placed upon each softly spoken syllable.

That piqued his interest then, the threat spoken so mildly and the consequences left silent. He felt almost obligated to ask, failing to hide rising amusement, "Oh? And what will you do about it?"

She didn't rise to his challenge. Not immediately, anyway. But when she did, it was with a cutting civility and a long, cold stare: "I'll put bugs in your pants."

It was a child's threat, yes, but it was a threat which worked against the likes of Laito. Though he didn't reveal how much he detested at the mere idea of such a thing coming true. He hated the idea of insects being anywhere near him- never mind on him!

"The biggest ones I can find."

She was visibly trying very hard not to crack up at his reaction. No matter how much he tried to hide his discomfort, his pale skin paled even more. It was very tempting to tease and prod at him for it, but she resisted; it looked as if she'd be getting her way. She'd have got it one way or the other- that was something she was very good at- but it was always a pleasant surprise when it was this easy.

So, with an easy grin upon her face, she turned and headed down the hallway, left hand waving lazily, "pleasure doing business with you."

Oh, but it wasn't pleasant for him. He did keep his side of the one-sided bargain, but it was with extreme reluctance that only seemed to grow as time went on. With every fleeting touch she inflicted upon another, every simpering smile that they received- hell, every look she gave people began to grate on him. Why did she seem to give little bits of herself to everyone but him so freely? She barely even looked in his direction since their little exchange and days had began to merge with weeks, and he didn't know if he could take them forming months.

Especially since she always knew exactly what she was doing. The only times she would spare him a glance was when she did something that she knew would particularly annoy him. That was when she'd look in his direction, see him looking and stare just as smugly as she'd done before, with the same smugness that used to irritate him for different reasons.

It was still there now, poorly buried under false irritation as she tilted her head upwards to stare him in the eyes. Her eyes were somehow even more pretty up close, especially when looking in his direction.

"What are you doing, Sakamaki?" She was more relaxed this time, most likely due to having nothing to lose. Intrigue was very much present under layers of fake boredom, yet he didn't call her out on it.

"I could ask you the same question." Though he sounded relaxed, he wasn't as relaxed as he sounded on the inside. He'd acted on a whim, here, and even though the action wasn't unexpected of him, it felt rather foreign to him with her. There was something about her that seemed so different from anyone else he'd talked to in this school (apart from his brothers, of course), but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it might be.

She hummed in question, leaning forward until her nose nearly met his. So close, yet so far. How he wanted to lunge forward and take her lips in his, hoping it would satiate him somewhat.

"And why is that?"

He chuckled, not looking away from her for a moment; to break eye contact would be to admit defeat to her, and that was something he'd never do.

"You're full of questions today." Was all he responded with, barely acknowledging her question. She wouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing what he was thinking- how he was feeling- in the slightest. If he were to tell her then her ego would only grow, and that was the opposite of what he wanted.

He wanted her to squirm. To squirm like all the others when he pushed them so.

But she didn't.

"And you're dodging every single one of them." Finally, she broke eye contact, staring at his dark, loosely-tied necktie for a moment. Then she reached for it, twirling it around and around her finger with almost absent eyes. Around and around and around and around it went, and he mused that perhaps she'd never stop.

It did. Only when she reached up the tiniest amount to grip it in her hand, pulling it towards her. Their noses were very much touching there, and the slightest of friction from skin against skin had never felt so good to him before. Hell, he could've moaned from it had he not been so surprised.

Her eyes were so close, a colour so indescribably beautiful that he felt that he was drowning in an ocean of it from the sight alone. Especially so close. It was too close to be considered friendly- too close to even be considered aggressive. Well, not the type of aggressive that'd lead to a fight, anyway. Perhaps the other type of aggressive, though.

"You've been staring at me for a while," she stated, slightly tilting her head as she did so with an amused smile upon her face, "is there something you need from me?"

He, too, was amused by the situation. If he was not a vampire then he was sure his heart would've been beating out of his chest by now. It was a strange sensation, feeling so on-edge yet so immensely excited. Was this what it was like to play with fire? If so then he hoped it would never be extinguished.

"Perhaps," he cupped her chin in his hand, stroking it gently with long, slow movements of his thumb, "though I fear it's something only you can provide."

His gaze briefly strayed to her lips, lingering there intentionally longer than necessary, before flickering back up to her eyes. They narrowed in mirth.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Her movements were serpentine, head now close to his ear, so much so that her warm breath began to fan across his ice-cold neck.

"Well, then I can't deprive you if you're that desperate, now, can I?"

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

The sun was beginning to rise, yet neither of them noticed such a thing through the thick, dark curtains.

"I didn't think you were the dominant type," Laito spoke, the girl he was speaking to busying herself with dressing herself. He wasn't disappointed by any means, which was evident by his usual teasing, flirtatious tone of voice.

She snickered, "you certainly didn't seem to mind."

He grinned, waving an arm around in the air for emphasis, "of course not! It was a pleasant surprise."

"Though," he continued, staring at her whilst resting his face in the palm of his hand, "you still haven't told me what you are."

Completely unfazed by his question, she stared back with a smile still upon her face, "really- you haven't figured it out yet?"

Clicking her tongue, she strode over to her now-creased blazer that had been flung haphazardly onto the floor and shrugged it on, "I'm surprised. Surely you of all people have come across a succubus or two before, no?"

"A succubus?" He repeated, almost dumbfounded. As far as he knew, they were just some fantasy creature. But her being a succubus would answer a lot of his questions about the whole situation which had so far gone unanswered.

"Yes," she merely commented, slipping on her shoes now. At this point she was fully dressed, whereas Laito hadn't even bothered making an effort to put any clothes on.

With one final glance, she opened the door, "well, I hope to be seeing you a little more, Laito."

And with that, she left.

He hoped to be seeing a bit more than a little more of her. Let's just hope he doesn't get too greedy now, though.

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