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#open ending
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Helllo i Love your art more than i love donuts and thats ALLOT.but my boy lucifer can have babys,like i dont even know how that works!make it make sense! I just wanna say thank you again for curing are boredom👍🏻
You are SO right that is high praise indeed! I'm honored! =D So here. Have a donut! 🍩🍩🍩 As for Luci, let us turn to the world's favorite 700k+ words old man fanfiction that is The Bible (tm) as according to their lore, it's been canonically stated that angels are genderless for they are beings made of the Pure Holy Spirit and- Holy SHIT! What do you know??? Our dear depressed duck dad was an angel himself and in some depictions Lilith is infertile as was her punishment for her freedom! The more you know! -Bubbly💙
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(LMAO. My guy's been traumatized. Once is enough XD)
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ka3mika · 6 months
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NIGHTS AT THE BAR WITH YOU
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Who knew a Mafia executive could be such a gentleman? [gn!reader]
Dazai had recommended to keep away from the gravity manipulator and you simply chuckled, mumbling a ‘of course I will, he’s a mafia executive.’
The problem is, you hadn’t thought you’d ever meet him after the conflict with the guild, seeing as you’re a member of the armed detective agency.
But, of course, you just had to meet him once more at a bar randomly.
“You’re not too bad, for an enemy.” He mumbled, drunk out of his mind as he swirled his drink on a stool.
“Ah, really?” You asked, a sigh leaving your lips as you watched your phone battery drop to 10%.
“Yeah, not as bad as that asshole colleague of yours.” He slurred out, finishing off his drink slowly.
“What, Dazai?” You tilted your head, gaining a groan from the executive.
“Damn right..”
It was silent after that and your mind wandered to whether people around him even know if he’s a mafioso.
“What’s on ya mind, hah?” His voice brung you out of your thoughts, sort of raspy thanks to the drink.
…Huh, is he a lightweight?
“Nothing much, I should probably get home soon, since I’ve got work tomorrow.” You explained, looking for your coat to be under you but instead finding it fallen off on the floor.
He nodded, getting up from his chair with a small stumble as he leant down and grabbed your coat for you.
“Huh, thanks.” You grinned lightly, eyes widening slightly as he places it on you.
“No problem.” He grumbled out, adjusting his hat and sliding money across the counter.
You went to pay too but paused as the bartender nodded to Chuuya and said that ‘he’s payed enough for both of you’.
“Don’t ask.”
You blinked silently for a few moments before a small smile graced your lips and Chuuya wondered if he’d ascended to heaven.
Who was he kidding, he’s definitely not going to heaven.
“You’re not too bad for an enemy either, Nakahara.” Your smile turned into a grin as you picked up your phone, waving at the man.
Shit, he was definitely in heaven, godknows how he made it up there but he can’t be anywhere but heaven with that grin of yours directed at him.
“See you around?” You had asked, a silent invitation for him to join you once more.
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, sending a grin your way as you turn to leave.
After you left, he wondered briefly whether he should of offered you a trip back but quickly refuted the thought, groaning as he turned to meet the bartender hiding her amused face.
He knew he was doomed from then, that he’d come back the next week and end up in the same situation.
And he was right, you ended up sitting with him more and more at that same bar, that same bar he didn’t even need to go to because he had tons of wine at home.
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cheesemoth · 1 month
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A WEDDING MADE OF STRAWS
Part 1 | Part 2
Fandom
Criminal Minds
Summary
Your relationship with Spencer, your husband, seems to be deteriorating after seven years together and four years of marriage. You've tried to talk to him about it, to find out if you've done something wrong, but all you get is an avoidance or the poor excuse "I don't have time". Finally, you've had enough.
Genre
Hurt/Open Ending
Pairing
Spencer Reid/Female Reader
Spencer isn't feeling well.
His head hurts, constantly, and lately, his job seems to weigh even more heavily on his shoulders. He knows it's partly due to his worry about schizophrenia, especially since the migraines he thought he had left behind are back.
He tries to distract himself, not to let his thoughts invade his daily life with you and his professional life, but it's a difficult fight. He so wants to talk to you about all this, but the idea of burdening you with his problems makes him wince. You're already worried enough for him, with all the time his job takes; he doesn't want to add to your worries.
So, naturally, Spencer turns to his best friend at work, JJ. She understands him better than anyone, without a word being said, and her presence is like a sanctuary in the face of his torments.
He is aware that this isn't fair to you, but he finds it unbearable to share what eats at him, to pollute your environment with his problems and anxiety.
"You should really talk to her, Spence," JJ says for the umpteenth time, after Spencer shared his discomfort that had intensified earlier, amplified by your disappointed tone after he announced he would spend the night at a friend's.
Spencer immediately shakes his head. "I can't —"
"I think your wife is wise enough to decide for herself," JJ retorts, a tad more sharply.
Spencer lowers his eyes, stung. Of course, he would never question your intelligence or your independence. He is also convinced that you do not grasp the full extent of what a possible diagnosis of schizophrenia could imply for him. What he would be imposing on you, if it were to develop. He bites his lip, sighing heavily as he runs his fingers through his hair.
Seeing the state Spencer is in, with his pronounced dark circles despite the comfort of the guest room bed, and his shoulders tense, JJ softens her tone.
"Just... think about it, okay? She loves you, otherwise you wouldn't be together."
Spencer finds nothing to reply and settles for a non-committal hum. These words don't reassure him as much as they should. That night, he doesn't find sleep easily, just like the previous nights.
...
...
It's been almost a week since Spencer hasn't returned to the apartment, to you. A case hit him particularly hard, and he hasn't been able to suppress these harmful emotions as he usually does.
He doesn't want you to see him like this. It's so pitiable. He wants to text you, even call you just to hear your voice, but he knows he would end up cracking, likely in tears, like a child seeking comfort from his mother.
Spencer is supposed to be strong, to be an exceptional husband for an exceptional wife; and lately, he feels incapable of being either. While keeping his distance is probably not the best solution, until he can get his life back in order and control his feelings, it will have to suffice.
You'll understand — you always do, in the end.
It was a mistake. A terrible mistake, because when he returns to the apartment, which smells of dust and exudes solitude, his heart sinks when his call remains unanswered and the silence persists.
"Honey?" His voice breaks terribly as he enters your bedroom to find the bed made, and your side of the bed devoid of your extra fluffy pillow and your small heavy, soft blanket. "Love, this isn't funny —"
Spencer's words die in his throat as he discovers the small pile of seemingly innocuous papers on the counter, topped with a simple pen. He knows what it is without even having to read, but that doesn't mean he accepts the situation immediately. He frowns, opening and closing his mouth as his trembling fingers touch the first page.
Spencer's eyes burn as an overwhelming emotion weaves through his bones.
"No," he murmurs, finally finding the courage to read the words inked on the page, his lower lip trembling and his breath hitching. "No, it's not supposed to be like this," Spencer articulates, shaking his head.
He fumbles feverishly in his pants pocket, and the only reason he manages to dial your number despite the tears blurring his vision is sheer habit. It's only when the dial tone sounds in his ear that he lets out a curse through clenched teeth and a deep sob shakes his entire body.
He tries again, and again, until...
Until his number is blocked, and that's when Spencer Reid fully realizes how much he's ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. All because he was afraid of his own mind.
...
...
JJ doesn't utter any reproachful words when Spencer shows up with his face marked by tears and his eyes reddened. He doesn't need to hear her thoughts to know she's thinking, "I told you so." And he can't even be mad about it.
"What do I do now?" Spencer asks miserably, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, his shoulders slumped. He doesn't want to divorce; he doesn't want to give up on the love of his life.
JJ doesn't know what to say, and Spencer doesn't even know what answer he's looking for. He has to pursue you, find you and hope he can explain himself, even if he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve your forgiveness for the way he's made you feel these past times.
Spencer surely chose the worst time to be selfish. But at this moment, he doesn't have the strength to care. All he wants is to belong to you again.
It takes several days for Spencer to find the courage to see you again. Of course, he knows where you are. He knows you by heart, after all.
...
...
When Spencer finally makes the decision to confront the situation, his heart is heavy but determined. The days apart have been excruciating, each moment filled with regret and longing. 
He's rehearsed what he wants to say a thousand times over, but now, standing at the threshold of possibly the most important conversation of his life, words seem to fail him.
The journey to you is a blur, his mind consumed with thoughts of how to mend what's been broken. He knows apologies are not enough, but they're a start. Spencer understands the magnitude of his mistake, the pain he's caused by shutting you out when he needed you the most. He's ready to open up, to share his fears and his struggles, hoping it's not too late to salvage the love you share.
As he arrives, his heart pounds with a mix of fear and hope. The anticipation of seeing you again, of possibly hearing your voice, fills him with a nervous energy he hasn't felt in a long time. Spencer knows the conversation ahead will be difficult, that there's a lot to work through, but he's committed to doing whatever it takes. He wants to prove that he can be the partner you deserve, that he can face his demons with you by his side.
Taking a deep breath, Spencer steps forward, ready to face whatever comes with honesty and love. He knows the path to reconciliation won't be easy, but he's hopeful. Hopeful that your shared history, the love and the memories you've built together, will be enough to overcome this challenge.
As he knocks on the door, waiting for an answer, Spencer rehearses his opening lines in his mind. "I'm sorry," will be his starting point, followed by the truth about his fears, his condition, and his deep-seated fear of burdening you.
But more than anything, he wants to convey his unwavering love for you, his desire to fight for your relationship, and his hope for a future together, despite the shadows that have crept into his life.
The door opens, and there you are.
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caesium-55 · 2 months
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Imagine Charles Leclerc who dated all your friends because he cannot have you.
It's not that you don't want him—God only knows how many times you wished to all the stars in the sky for you to have him—but it's because you were afraid. Of what? Of what would come if the relationship would not work.
"What if we'll work? What if we'll be happy?" he asked you that once, when you were both seventeen and he was steadily rising in his career as a racer. But you pride yourself to be an intelligent woman, always practical and never to be swayed by feelings. You would not sacrifice an almost two decade friendship over a what-if.
So while you pursue your career in architecture, he began dating your friends. It's petty. It's cruel. It's unfair. Not just to him or to you but the poor girls who thought he loved them when it was you he was imagining when he kissed them.
It hurt when it happened the first time. Then, you realized that you had to suck it up because this was the mountain you chose to climb. It was a good thing that you were always the best at keeping your emotions at bay.
On his first breakup with his first girlfriend, he was the one who told you first. He came by your house, the one next to his childhood home, and told you personally. You had shook your head at him, disappointed but not surprised.
"Who dumped who?"
"It was her."
"Good for her."
Then, he helped you cook dinner, you ate together and he left after. You spent the next morning comforting your friend, listening to her two-hours long rant patiently. Guilt crept up at the back of your skull because you were the one who introduced them both.
The next time you learned Charles was dating again, it was through Twitter. You shrugged it off at first, not interested at the news because the fans can be full of exaggeration sometimes. You trusted that Charles would personally tell you if he had found someone. Like he did before. Because Charles will never ever keep secrets from you.
Then, a week later, on the third Wednesday of the month where you, your brother, and your dearest Mama visit the Leclercs for the usual dinner get-together, and she brought her along.
"Charlotte?" you blinked in surprise when you saw her, pretty as always. "What are you—"
Then, Charles appeared right behind her and kissed her on the cheek.
"Oh."
Of fucking course, he chose Charlotte. Charlotte who also lived next door. Charlotte who had been your friend since highschool. Charlotte whom you shared similar interests in architecture and art. Charlotte who worked the same job as you. Charlotte who looked uncannily similar to you and you fucking know why Charles chose her. He had been searching for you in everything, in every person, and he seemed to have found familiarity in Charlotte's arms but it's not fair to her.
You resisted the urge to punch him the entire evening.
Dinner went great. Mrs. LeBlanc's cooking will always be one of the best things served on a dinner table but even if she cooked your favorite food, you barely had the strength to swallow it. The entire focus of the conversation was on Charlotte's and Charles' relationship and fuck, that made you feel like dying.
Is it jealousy? Is it guilt? You did not know. You wished it was the latter.
You confronted Charles later that evening, in the privacy of his childhood home. The familiar faces of his racing heroes are the audience of your entire debate.
"Stop this, Charles. Charlotte does not deserve this."
He is an asshole. Truly, an asshole. Unfortunately, you were the reason for him being like that.
"Why would I? I'm happy now."
"Are you truly? Do you like her?"
You saw his jaw tense, "I will learn."
"Stop searching for me in other people. That's not fair to them." You wanted to be the one who had the last say.
Then, they went steady for almost three years. And you thought perhaps Charles learned to love Charlotte as he said. You cried every time you thought about it. The four walls of your bedroom listened to you weep every fortnight when you felt extra lonely and your best friend was oceans away, chasing his dreams at high speed, and you imagined what it would be like to be in Charlotte's place.
In the morning, you became alright.
Another third Wednesday dinner and Charles brought Charlotte again, and this time, you wanted to be free from this. Charles was happy. Charlotte was happy. You can't be the only one unhappy. So you told him: "I'm happy for you. Thank you for loving Charlotte."
Then, he fucking broke up with her two days later.
He came by the apartment, told you the news before Charlotte even told you through text, and God, you felt like screaming at him then and there. Yet, you remained calm, staring at him blankly.
"Why?"
"She wasn't you."
"Fuck you, Charles."
From there, it became a full blown argument. Charles was emotional. You were too unemotional. A perfect balance.
"Why can't you just love me?" he asked, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Because!" you cut yourself off. You loved him. God, you loved him so, so much. But you will not tell him that. You cannot. So you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. As calmly as you can, you said, "Just stop, Charles."
He opened his mouth, probably to argue with you because he refuses to have you withdrawing from this argument. He let you run away a lot of times before. But not tonight.
"Please..."
And it was like a switch. Charles' fury dissipated at a single world that came from your mouth.
"Okay."
He turned around to leave and then opened the door but before he could fully exit, he asked, "Can I know at least? What is wrong with me that you won't even consider loving me?"
You let out a shaky breath.
"I don't know," you lied.
He nodded and left.
You knew he'll keep doing it. Dating girls who are either your friends or girls who look like you. Alexandra...Jenessa....Elodie. The last girl was Janine.
"I broke up with her."
You didn't even bother asking him why. Just handed him a chilled bottle of beer from the fridge.
"Because she wasn't you."
"I know," you said blankly. You're used to this. Used to the ache in your heart when he decides to date your friends or girls who look like you. Used to the anxiety that overcame you on the nights when you wonder if he finally stopped looking at his girlfriend while imagine you instead. Used to the guilty relief when he tells you they broke up.
It had been years. You're beginning to get tired. He should move on. You should move on. But whatever is holy enough residing in the skies above is just plain cruel.
"Why wouldn't you love me?"
"I do love you, Charles."
"As a friend."
More than that actually, you thought but never had the guts to say it out loud.
"You know I'm an awful human being, dating girls who resemble you because you won't like me back. It's the closest thing I could have of you."
"I know."
"You're also an awful human being, rejecting me and rejecting me and for what?"
"You're drunk."
"I know."
"That's my line."
He sighed.
"Is this because of what happened with Olivier?"
Olivier was another kid who lived in the same neighborhood. He used to be close friends with you and Charles. You started dating when you were both 15 but the relationship tragically ended when you were 16. The thing about Olivier is that he could not go back to just being friends with you and that devastated you because Olivier was such a good friend. You knew what it was like to lose Olivier—as a girlfriend and as a best friend.
God forbid you lose Charles, too.
You won't have anyone anymore.
When you hesitated, he knew he was right.
"Fuck it. Can't believe my happiness is stopped by a childish guy who cheated on you when we were teens."
"Charles."
"I won't cheat on you."
"That's not it, Charles."
"Then what is it?!" he was raising his voice again. "I have been stuck wondering what was wrong with me that you—you—"
He didn't even finish his sentence as he furiously wiped his tears.
"Just give me a chance, please."
Should you or should you not? It took years and six girlfriends. Should you free him from this torment and cage yourself with the fear of losing him every day?
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stevesbipanic · 3 months
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The pen didn't have a lot of ink left, but it would do. He'd taken a notebook from Max's desk as well. He had to write these things down, just in case.
"Just in case I don't make it back there's some things I wanted to tell you. One, I'm sorry I didn't come home, I'm sorry I ran and left you to deal with my mess again, I didn't kill Chrissy and I hope you know that.
Don't blame yourself for being on the night shift, from what I understand it would've happened anyway, I'm glad I could make her laugh before she died. You're going to have some people visit you, if they make it instead of me. You can trust them, just listen to Dustin, he's a good kid and knows good people. Yes, even Steve Harrington, if anyone is making it out alive it's him, I'll make sure he gives this to you.
Give my stuff to the boys, everything, the books, the rings, the records. I want them to have me in some way when I'm gone, especially since I won't get to say goodbye. Check on them now and then will you? I'm sorry I can't be around anymore to protect them.
Get out of Hawkins, I don't need a grave, I don't need you stuck here mourning. Escape this cursed town like I always wanted to, go visit Ma in the mountains and tell her I'll be seeing her soon.
I'm sorry,
Eddie"
Steve knocked on the side of the caravan and Eddie jolted looking at him.
"You ok?"
"Yeah, Stevie, don't worry, could you do me a favour though?"
Steve gave him a soft smile, "Sure, Eds, anything."
"Give this to my uncle, if I don't make it back."
"You'll see him yourself soon, I promise."
Eddie had given him a sad smile at that, and it had burned into Steve's memory just as the piece of paper now burned in his pocket. He knocked on the motel door. It opened and Steve took a deep breath.
"Hi, Mr Munson, I have a message from Eddie."
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sunnysideprincess · 3 months
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Ao3 is down so here's something spicey
It takes Tony three tries to finally admit to Steve that he has slept with both Barnes and Wilson. Individually. Back in days of yore when he was known to be a loose canon.
In his defense, he was high and in mourning for the first. That and he didn't even know it was the fucking Winter Soldier he was riding relentlessly through his clouded mind. At least not until years decades later when Romanoff told him ", hey your parents didn't die in a car accident and here's the guy who was brainwashed into killing them". It was morbid how fast Tony recognised him as the man who he got high and sly with and not as Hydra's darling puppet.
With Wilson it was a little more complicated. It had been him doing last minute check on the wings for the Falcon project. It had been him, young and aching to prove himself to the big leagues, versus this cock-sure newbie with a sharp tongue. He'd been down on his knees before nightfall.
Now, he loves Steve. He loves him soft and tender, and also like a raging fire storm.
But god damn it, he also yearns for Sam's heated, knowing gaze travelling down his back. He aches for Barnes and his cold, sharp eyes digging into his skin.
He thinks it's selfish.
He thinks it could be because he's still a spoiled rich brat under all the glitz and glamour.
"So you and Sam? And Bucky?"
Tony nods. It took him three tries but he finally spilled the tea. Or rather a generous amount of spiced curry all over the carpet.
"Do they know?"
"Yeah. Wilson, he ah... We didn't exchange names, but... Yeah, a goatee and age don't make much of a disguise."
"And Buck?"
"He does. Now. But he didn't remember until you know-" B.A.R.F. he doesn't add. Seems like an off-putting word to utter in this situation.
"Right."
They sit on the opposite ends of the bed. And Tony lets him mull over his thoughts.
Whatever he wants, Tony will try his best to give it to him. Space. Apology. Time. Comeuppance.
Whatever.
Tony loves Steve that much.
Only, Steve doesn't ask for any of those things.
What he asks for instead is:
"Can I watch?"
Well...
He does love Steve that much.
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athenaistired · 3 months
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𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂❞
— 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐭.𝟒 //
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ᴘʟᴏᴛ: ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ.
art credit & word count: 4747
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ (ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ): ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ, ᴀʙᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ, ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ, ɢᴜɴꜱ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴅᴜᴇʟɪɴɢ, ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴍᴀɪʟ
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— 𝑴𝒀 𝑳𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 !4!
It has been a month since Donna had miscarried the baby. The tension in the house was over the roof, but what irritated Diluc further is that you always seemed to be in great spirits.
Their dark circles, weight loss, depressive states — none of that phased you. In fact, there was one time when the redheaded man was getting ready to collect some flowers in the Whispering Woods, and you watched him leave the house whilst standing in the hallway and waving him a good-bye with that shit-eating smirk that never left your face.
There was something evil in your eyes ever since he came back. You were not the same person that he knew once — you felt like a demon. A witch.
Every time he left somewhere, he was terrified that you would do something to Donna. Your actions felt like a slow build-up to a gradual event, and he couldn’t help but worry himself into sickness. Diluc always kept any form of a weapon on himself, and even his lover started sleeping with a knife under her pillow just in case you’ll come back to haunt her once more.
Planning your murder was not an easy task. There were multiple things that they had found in their way.
First, it was your absolute authority over the house and Mondstat. The attack couldn’t happen anywhere where you could have a potential escape route or a protector. You had to either be caught by a surprise, or be forced into attacking first to initiate the whole ordeal.
Second, your servant Marie. She wasn’t always visible, but her spirit was everywhere where you went. Diluc the other day had also caught a sight of a Hydro Vision embedded at the back of the maid’s long black skirt. He wasn’t sure if she specialized in the healing ability or fighting, but as the time went on he did realize one thing for certain — Marie wasn’t a mere servant, she was your personal bodyguard. Knowing you, you wouldn’t have someone responsible for your safety without proper insurance.
Third, your abilities. Even after all these weeks of living under the same roof as you, there was still not much known about you. He had attempted to investigate and find out if there were any potential trump cards that they still weren’t aware of, but he came up to nothing. In fact, the more he dug, the more their murder attempt was feeling less and less possible.
“Donna, there’s only one way that this can be done.” The redheaded man whispered, and his words made the woman tremble and grow pale.
“Absolutely not.” She instantly replied, but instead of a living gaze that she grew to love — eyes as cold as ice stared back at her. Her lover was fed up with everything. He just wanted it all to be over.
“I am giving you a month. If you don’t come up with a new idea — I will get this done the way I see fit.” He warned her, absolutely refusing to back down on his decision.
He couldn’t let you win.
He couldn’t let you win.
He. Couldn’t. Let. You. Win.
Never.
He would rather die.
“But Diluc—“ Donna begged from the bottom of her heart, but her plea was silenced once the man rose a palm before her face, tactically telling her to shut up. Brunette’s heart ached. She felt heavy, as if she was about to crash through the ground and fall down straight into hell itself.
She was losing Diluc.
To you.
There was a knock on the door, and soon no other but Marie had walked through the door. Just a few weeks ago, she would ask for permission before entering. However, the more your terror and power grew, the less Donna and Diluc were respected or cared for by the servants of the house. They all admired you on another level, and saw the two “guests” as nothing more than nuisances.
“Master Y/N is expecting both of you for breakfast.” The maid proclaimed after a small bow of her head. Well, she might have had no respect for their privacy, but she sure was always a well-mannered woman.
“Tell that witch to stop playing fucking house already.” Diluc snarled back like an angered animal. His fists were already clenched just at the thought of you. Marie lightly frowned at the harshness of the words, but didn’t let it show.
“For today’s breakfast we have prepared a freshly made croissant bake topped with cinnamon custard and wild berries.” The maid continued on as if the other two were not even in the room, “You’re expected to be downstairs in 5 minutes, so that the food does not get cold. Do not make Master Y/N wait for you.”
And just as Diluc was about to say further insults into her back, the maid had left the room.
-
“Good morning, you two.” You said the moment the parasites had entered the dining room. You watched Marie pour you another cup of tea. Today it was buckwheat tea with some honey as a sweetener, your personal favorite. The maid’s graceful hands clothed with black velvet gloves carefully moved the ceramic teapot and gently placed it back down. It didn’t even make a sound against the wood of the table once it was put down, “I pray that you had a good night’s sleep.”
“Are you having fun doing all of this?” Diluc snarled at you, and you rose a curious brow. Marie’s expression grew darker, but you put your hand up to stop her.
“Let him speak.” You said to your maid, and although she hesitated, she straightened up her back once again and put her hands behind her back.
“Diluc, stop.” Donna tugged at her lover’s sleeve, but the man instantly pulled away from her.
You watched in amusement as his resentment towards you was now pouring out and poisoning everything around that he loved. A woman that he treasured, carried around in his arms, and claimed to marry in the future — was now humiliated and ridiculed by no other but himself.
“No, Donna, let me tell this bitch exactly what I think.” Diluc said to Donna and began quickly approaching you. You didn’t even flinch, but continued to drink your tea as if nothing was happening, “Tell me, is this.. Fun?” He said almost straight in your face, “Is this.. A twisted desire of yours? Revenge? A fucking joke?!” You watched in disgust as the droplets of saliva from his mouth landed over your dishes.
You picked up a teaspoon and lightly clicked it against the plate. Marie instantly was on your opposite side picking up the dishes off the table. Both Diluc and Donna seemed confused by what was happening, but didn’t say a word.
You stood up from your chair, and stared long and deep into your husband’s eyes. You were trying to find at least small bits of evidence that the man you once loved was still there. However, as you searched — you couldn’t find even the smallest bits. You wondered, what would the Diluc from the past think about this? How would he react to what had happened between both of you? Would he allow himself to live knowing the shame he had brought upon his own family name?
No, that Diluc would choose death over being such a disgusting creature that was in front of you.
“You are just a dead man, fuming with rage and grief. There’s a deep hole in your heart that nothing can fill, and this malice that’s spilling out of you will never end unless you’ll rot away six feet under. You never got over your father’s death, and you make it everyone else’s problem. Well, you know what, Diluc? You’re not the only one who lost something important that day you left.” You could see his vision glowing, as if it wanted to spit fire at you right there and then, “Grow the fuck up already.” You said in a cold tone that made the whole room fall silent. Diluc blinked once, twice, and took a step back. Satisfied, you turned around to where Marie stood, “I will have my breakfast in my office.”
“Of course, Master Y/N.” The maid bowed and then held up the door open for you to leave.
“Ah, and one more thing.” You turned around, but this time you faced the brunette woman rather than the hot-headed idiot, “Donna, darling, you’re only 19 years old. Don’t waste away your years on this disappointment of a man like I did. He’ll turn on you the same way he did on me, then will cheat on you with a younger woman or man, and you’ll be left alone to pick up his shit after him.” You sighed, “I wasn’t always the way I am today. I know that, that feeling that’s been growing in me back then, is now growing in you. Listen to your gut, and make the right decision.” And with that, you finally left the room leaving both of them in a stupor.
-
“Oh, for fucks sake!” Diluc roared like an animal and smashed his fist against the wall. Donna stood behind him, slightly hesitant to move. Ever since she listened to your speech, she couldn’t seem to get her head out of clouded thoughts. You laid the seeds of your plans — to grow them apart as much as you could.
Rightfully so.
“Please, just.. Calm down..”
And it was working.
“Calm down? Calm down?! CALM DOWN?!” The man pulled at his own hair. He really did seem to be slowly losing his mind, “Are you fucking serious with me right now? They are humiliating me!” He let out a small laugh of disbelief, but Donna was dead serious.
“Why don’t you go on a walk? Cool down. Maybe let out some steam fighting Hilichurls. Go do something else except just.. Being here.” She breathed out a suffocated breath. It felt like she had been holding in these words ever since yesterday — and now she was finally able to let them out, “They’re getting into your head, Diluc.”
“They’re getting into MY head? Donna, you’re not making any sense here.” However, the man refused to understand the message behind her words, “Just a few weeks ago you came to me crying your fucking eyes out because you thought that Y/N caused you to have a miscarriage, and now what? You’re telling me to.. Let go? To.. Calm down?! TO. COOL. FUCKING. DOWN?” His voice was increasing in loudness with each word one by one, and Donna could barely hold herself from wincing away.
When had he become this?
Was he always like this?
What was happening to him?
Where did her Diluc go?
“Yes.” She nodded, “I am.”
The man stared at her for one second, two, three.. Time seemed to slow down while he studied her expression as if she was an animal at the zoo. They weren’t talking, but none dared to break the eye contact. One was trying to dominate the other in the disagreement by using pure intimidation. Donna wasn’t sure how successful her attempt was, but suddenly, her lover took quick steps right towards her and roughly grabbed her by the chin.
The brunette froze in place; feeling like a helpless bunny before a hungry wolf. He squeezed her flesh tight to the point that it burned. Her hiss of pain didn’t stop him, but only seemed to make the grip stronger. She would be shocked if it wouldn’t bruise later.
“Wipe that look off your fucking face.”
It felt like he could see you looking at him through Donna’s eyes.
Diluc finally let go, and almost made his lover fall down to the ground. The man quickly walked past, grabbed his coat, and headed through the hallway to the right. Soon, the loud bang that shook the whole mansion had echoed through the walls. He left. Thank god, he left. Relief washed over Donna’s psyche; her heartbeat was starting to slow down and she began to take deep breaths in and out.
She had no clue what to do anymore.
-
You sat in front of a chess board in your office. You carefully observed the crafted pieces before you, and hummed in thought. Eventually, you picked up the Queen and King off the board and showed them up to Marie who stood by the exit door.
“I am the King.” You announced, “And you — are the Queen. You do whatever I tell you to, and you protect me at the cost of your life. However, you are more than just a Queen — you can jump through pieces, you can go multiple times in a row, and you can engulf as many in your way as I desire.” Marie smiled, but remained silent, “And I am more than just a King, however, what I share in common with the King is that if I fall — the game will be over not just for me, but for everyone.”
“Marie?” You called out to your servant, who looked up at you with adoration. She already knew what you were going to ask, “If I told you to die for me, would you?”
“Of course, Master Y/N.”
You laughed in her face.
“If I told you to let me die. Would you?”
This time, with more hesitation, “Y-yes, Master Y/N.”
“Is that so? How adorable.” You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling. This feeling of power over others was just as addictive as a drug. The people of this house held you in such high regard, that they would even go against Barbados himself for your sake.
Suddenly, your expression went cold, “Then you are no Queen.. Just another pawn.” Your gaze shifted once more onto the wooden figures held in your hands, “Remember this — anything and anyone can be replaced, but the King.”
You dropped the chess pieces in your palms straight onto the chess board. The pieces clacked, and flew all across the table.
Chaos..
Discord..
Malice..
Death.
-
Weeks were passing by, and Donna was still out of options. Now, with a further sober mind, she wasn’t sure what she was meant to propose to Diluc in order to change his mind. If only they could just run away, but they were held like hostages to their own fates — prisoners of your home. Until this day, Diluc still called it “his” mansion, but anyone who wasn’t a complete cretin knew the truth. You’ve long planted seeds, strengthen roots, and bloomed in this house. They were strangers here, no matter how hard one would look.
“Donna, did you come up with a solution?” Diluc creeped up behind her like a ghost; she didn’t even hear his steps nor sensed his presence.
“H-honey.. Can we just.. Run away from here? Maybe we’ll build a cabin in the woods where nobody will find us.. And live there.. Forever?” The woman grabbed at his shirt and pressed herself closer to his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, but it sounded cold. Distant. Like an echo.
Diluc gently took Donna by her shoulders, and pushed her away to look deep into her eyes. Those eyes were the ones of a dead man who had learned how to walk and talk, but it was easy to tell that he had long abandoned dreaming and living.
She had lost him.
This was it.
“I won’t rest until that bitch is fucking dead.”
A chill ran through Donna’s spine. She froze, and didn’t even care to chase after him as he walked off into the distance. She shouldn’t have said anything to him that day when she lost her child, she gave him an idea — that turned into an obsession. He had become a sick man. No, he had always been a sick man, it was just..
It was just..
That he loved Donna before.
But he didn’t anymore.
His love for Donna, was replaced with hatred for you, and it seemed like Diluc’s heart only had place for one person.
It was her time to let go.
And so, the brunette slowly turned herself around to go back to the guest bedroom to pack away her things and leave this cursed mansion. She had enough money to hire an adventurer to escort her to Liyue. There was no more life left for her in Mondstat, not after what she had done. Not after what Diluc was about to do.
Perhaps.. They liked flowers in Liyue as well.
-
You knew that he was approaching, and fast. His footsteps echoed across the hallway long before he even reached your door. You and Marie exchanged a look; already expecting what was to come. After all, the walls were quite thin within the mansion.
When Diluc flew into the room, he had resembled a beast far more than a human. There was fire in his eyes — perhaps this was the first time that he had truly looked alive since the day that he came back to you. A lost hound had returned to its owner to consume it alive. You’ve ran out of things that could saturate his hollowing hunger.
“In Fontaine, you have the right to fight for your honor with a duel.” He said while staring down at you. You sat at your work desk on a massive red velvet chair whilst playing with a pen between your fingers. Your movements stopped, and you looked up at him with a smirk.
“Is that so?” You chuckled; feeling amused, “I am saddened to disappoint you, but you do so with a dualist assigned by the Chief of Justice.”
“Either you fight me or everyone in this mansion dies.” The red-headed man threatened you, at which you couldn’t contain your laughter anymore.
“They can all die.” You shrugged, “Dying for me is an honor, Diluc.” The man rolled his eyes at your response, but didn’t give up.
“Either you fight me — or I will set the whole of Mondstat on fire.” At first, you wanted to instantly reply back — ‘You wouldn’t do that’ — but with another second of staring into his eyes you knew for sure that he had truly lost his mind. He had nothing left to stay for, “I will murder citizens, women, children.. I will cause chaos, until I am stopped. However, you are able to prevent the loss of those lives by agreeing with me right here and right now to fight for honor.” He took one step after another, and eventually placed both of his palms against the table and leaned in closer towards you, “I wouldn’t be surprised if I am not the only one in the need of honor cleansing.”
You couldn’t care less about the humans’ lives, however, if the word got out that Diluc would not have committed crimes have you agreed to a duel, but you haven’t, it would greatly affect your reputation. Damaging to your reputation, would damage your status, damaging status, would damage the business, damaging the business would damage sales, and then slowly and eventually..
You will also be left with nothing.
“A duel it is.” You stood up and straightened out your hand. With hesitance, Diluc shook it, “One of us will not see the dawn, do you agree for such a risk?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice, Y/N.”
-
Dueling is about recovering your honor, it was not an act of killing.
There were many important rules to a proper duel. First of all, such were not allowed in the country of Freedom and winds. Thus, it had to happen in the country of Geo and contracts, where both you and Diluc had signed the appropriate documentations which were overlooked by Lady Ningguang herself. Since both you and Diluc were considered to be individuals of high status, it applied even further complications to the whole ordeal.
You ensured that the vision from Diluc was confiscated, and that he was not allowed to use weapons he was further familiar with than you. So, the claymores and the swords were off the weapon choice. Both of you had signed for the weapon to be a loaded pistol. Your husband requested for them to not come from the production of your company, thus, also disabling any potential advantages from your side.
The day had come. Strangely enough, you did not feel nervous. You felt oddly excited.
Standing back-to-back with Diluc made you realize that it had been years since you were able to feel his warmth against your skin. It was a paralyzing feeling. This was probably the last time that you would feel it, but the idea of that brought you strange comfort.
You looked around, before you stood an audience of people, friends, and even some distant families. You could see in the center of the seating lady Ningguang together with her two most trusted servants by each of her sides. You could also see the glimpse of Master Jean, the Traveler, and even Paimon. You weren’t sure if the sights which were about to transpire were worth witnessing. There were also guards standing in each corner of the podium, ready to intervene under lady Ningguang’s orders if she thought that the duel had gotten too far.
Well, it was definitely going to get too far.
Dueling is about recovering your honor, it was not an act of killing. However, you and Diluc were gathered here today to kill one another. One of you can exist only with the death of the other. There was no loophole or another solution to this.
The loaded gun rested heavy in your palm, but you didn’t shake nor sweat. You had long abandoned fear or attachment to living.
There was a loud voice, you didn’t know what they said, but you knew what had to be done. 20 steps, and fire. 20 steps, and fire. 20 steps, and fire.
In 20 steps, your life was about to change forever.
20..
19..
Your heart was starting to squeeze, but the adrenaline rush kept you going forward. You stood proud and confident. Your chest was puffed out, and your movement never lost its grace.
18..
17..
The face of young Diluc flashed before your eyes. He used to be so happy, so full of life, and filled with passion. If only that boy had known he would grow up into such a monster.
17..
16..
You looked down at your gloves. You put on the best pair that you had. White silk with a black beautiful design stitched by hand. It also had some pearls situated at the corners of the black lines. This pair had come all the way from Inazuma, and last time you had worn them was on your wedding day.
16..
15..
The weather today was perfect. It was sunny, and it was easy to stay warm even in lighter clothes. However, the fresh breeze of a wind made you feel refreshed just how you would in winter. The sun of Mondstat, and the wind from Dragonspine, all the way in Liyue. The Archons were truly having a laugh at you.
15..
14..
You noticed that Donna was also present in the audience. She had been crying for a long time. There was a handkerchief in her palm, her eyes were swollen and puffy, her pupils surrounded by wine-red. Poor girl, you thought, but you felt no empathy. Karma would catch up with her as well, the same way how karma was catching up with you today.
14..
13..
You were trying to recall what you had for breakfast today, and couldn’t remember. Ever since you started preparing for your death, the days and nights have blended into one. You were truly in the moment — in the present — today.
13..
12..
For some reason, you wondered whether Diluc remembered the day of your birthday. Did he remember your anniversary? Did he remember the day when your parents had passed away?
12..
11..
You saw Kaeya sitting in the audience as well. He gave you a weak smile when he caught your glimpse towards him, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in irony of it all.
11..
10..
You noticed that Marrie was not present, just how she had promised. After all, you entrusted the last task to her. You knew she’d get it done. You knew that she wouldn’t get involved.
She was free.
10..
9..
You wondered what the life would have been like, if instead of running away, Diluc actually would have come to you for comfort. What if he had processed his grief, and the two of you would have moved on? Maybe you would have children by now. Perhaps, also dogs, cats and horses.
Maybe you would have been happy.
9..
8..
You saw a shadow of your parents standing right before you. Their faces were covered with a faint light glow. This made you wonder, you couldn’t quite recall how their faces had looked like. Or the sound of their voices. No, you couldn’t even remember what it felt like to have your father smile at you or what was it like for your mother to tell you bedtime stories. Those were luxuries of the past.
The dead had come to visit, as if already decided upon the fate that was about to be bestowed. There was no way around this, was there?
8..
7..
You could hear Diluc’s angry panting all the way from where he was standing. He was fuming. He was raging. He was burning from inside out from hatred and agony. He had decided that getting rid of you would put everything to a stop. That he would stop feeling like a monster was eating him alive. That he would be finally put out of his misery.
Oh, how wrong could one be.
7..
6..
You thought back to when Diluc had proposed to you for the first time. You were still just kids, and both of you had no clue that it was already decided that both of you will get married for diplomatic reasons. He had braided a stem alongside another stem of small, delicate flowers into a ring and a flower crown. He had gifted those to you, with a pure smile and a faint peach blush hovering his cheeks. You were in love.
6..
5..
You thought back to when Diluc had got his vision. At first, you were a bit jealous. After all, everyone wanted to have a vision. And knowing that both of your parents had one, however, you didn’t, always made you feel a bit petty inside. You could recall begging him to use his pyro abilities, because you wanted to see the magic, oh so badly! He asked you, which animal did you want him to make. Without any hesitation you replied, a bird!
5..
4..
You thought back to when the detectives that you have hired to investigate your husband’s disappearance first told you that they thought Diluc had passed away. Your whole world came crushing down. You felt sick right then and there. You were dizzy for weeks, the doctor’s couldn’t help you. There was one professor from Sumeru who decided to take your case and heal you from a “broken heart”.
In reality, it was a congestive heart failure. The causes were unknown. Your medications kept you stable for some time, but there wasn’t much time left.
4..
3..
You thought.. You thought.. You thought..
Almost as if time had come to a stop.
2..
1. . .
It was very sunny that day. You were a bit hungry, but felt too nervous to eat in the morning. After all, it was going to be the day that your life would change once and for all — you were going to be with your soulmate forever.
"Do you take Y/N as your lawful partner, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"
The priest had asked Diluc the question, but he didn’t even need any time to think. The clear and loud “yes” had slipped past his lips even before the other could finish his sentence. The old and wise Priest smiled at the lovebirds, and the two of you sealed yourselves in a kiss — a promise.
Until death do us part.
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scotchy-pie-art · 6 months
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hbyrde36 · 3 months
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I saw an old broken down Winnebago on my way home from work today, and then this happened. Enjoy!
Pieces of Memory
Rating: G | WC: 934 | Open Ending | AO3 link
After the “earthquake" Steve made arrangements to have the RV brought back to his house for safekeeping. 
They probably should have returned it to its owners, but the trailer park had been cut down the middle by one of the fissures, and no one knew what had happened to the couple they’d stolen it from. What he didn’t say to anyone was that even if they had been able to locate the owners, Steve never planned on giving up the Winnebago. 
As silly as it sounded it was the only thing he had left of Eddie now—that, and a vest he’d never gotten the opportunity to give back. The only evidence that Eddie had existed in the same place as him for a while. That it had all been real. A tangible piece of memory. 
In the months after Vecna, while they attempted to regroup and waited with bated breath to see if Max would ever wake up, Steve spent long hours painstakingly restoring the RV to its original condition. For no other reason than as an excuse to spend more time in the vehicle than was probably healthy. 
No one but Robin understood why Steve was having so much trouble moving on. Even he himself felt a little stupid about how broken up he was about the loss, when he and Eddie had shared so little. A lingering glance here, a few casual touches there, and exactly one heated kiss in that very same RV, during a rare moment alone when the crackling something between them had, for a moment, reached a critical level.  
They should have had more.
More time, more touch, more kisses, more everything. 
But it had all been taken—stolen by Vecna and that fucking place.
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When it was all done, when there wasn’t a single screw left to tighten or a surface to polish, Steve fired up the engine, having long since taught himself the fine art of hotwiring. He probably could have acquired a spare key without raising any eyebrows, even this far from the unexplained events of Spring, Hawkins was in turmoil and chaos, no dealership would have batted an eye about a replacement key, but this way felt more appropriate. 
He’d left a note on the kitchen counter for Robin, with another enclosed for her to give to Dustin in the event that he didn't make it back, knowing she would come looking for him eventually when he was no longer home to answer her calls. He didn’t dare tell her his plan ahead of time. She’d have either stopped him, or insisted on going with him and he wasn’t willing to risk anyone else. 
It was something that had been weighing on him ever since they’d been forced to leave Eddie’s body behind. In the moment it had seemed like the right thing to do, the only thing to do, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how they had left him there alone to rot. 
Until now he’d had something else to focus on, a project to keep his mind occupied and distracted, and yes there may have been some alcohol involved in his decision making but he just had this feeling that if he could bring Eddie back–or at the very least give him a proper burial in the Upside Down if he was too deteriorated to be moved–then maybe Steve could finally let him go.
He drove the RV to Forest Hills and parked as close as he dared to the big crack in the ground that extended out from Eddie’s trailer. When El brought Max back to life the fissures had halted their progress and become nothing more than holes in the ground, but the gates had remained open, as far as they knew. 
He entered the house carefully and sure enough the ceiling was adorned with a pulsing red membrane. The opening was smaller than he remembered, but not so much that he couldn’t get through. 
He took a page out of Dustin's book and poked through it with the end of a broom handle, conveniently left behind from the last time they had all been there. When he could see through to the other side he dragged the coffee table over, giving him enough of a step up that he could grab the edges of the opening and hoist himself through. 
He’d almost forgotten the way gravity flipped when passing from this dimension to the next, and he was thankful not to have an audience for his less than graceful landing. He was also grateful that the old mattress was still laid out on the other side, cushioning his fall. 
Steve ran right to the spot where he had found Dustin sitting, crying as he held on to Eddie, already gone still and cold, and found it—empty. 
Apart from the dried remnants of blood that had pooled underneath Eddie as he bled out, there was no trace of a body. Even if he had been taken, defiled by some creature there would have been evidence, right? Some flesh or bones to mark the spot where his beautiful boy’s life had ended.
Maybe he had the wrong spot. 
He was sure, he was almost sure he didn’t, but he could not go back empty handed without knowing he had searched thoroughly. 
He trudged around the area for what felt like hours, making wider and wider sweeps as he went.
He had just about given up hope, preparing himself to return home a failure when he heard a familiar voice speak up from behind him. 
“Oh, sweetheart. You really shouldn’t be here.”  
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theres-a-body-here · 3 months
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his! if possible, i’ll request cole cassidy x reader who’s apart of Talon? thank you so muchhh! and no pressure, if you can’t complete it that’s alright!
You never specified the tone of the fic  😈 😈 😈
Cole Cassidy x Male!reader
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Cole took a deep breath as he clutched his broken robotic arm, trying desperately to ignore the searing pain coursing through the attachment nerves.
His breathing became labored as sweat dripped down his forehead, mixing with the dust kicked up from the explosion that went off in the building. His communication device was broken as well. He couldn't call for the others.
Cole grunts as he attempts to stand, but is stopped as pain shoots through his leg. The pain felt like a thousand needles piercing his flesh, making it hard for him to think straight. He tried to get up again, but his wounded leg gave way underneath him. He looks around and finds Peacemaker, grabbing it.
After a few moments of silence, trying to come up with some sort of plan, he hears a groan a few yards away. Cole quickly turned his head in its direction, his breath catching in his throat.
In an awful way, Cole wished you had died in the explosion instead of having to face you himself. Killing his childhood best friend wasn't something he ever wanted to do.
You were still kicking. Talon's agents always had a nasty habit of not staying dead. Your face was contorted into a grimace as you pulled yourself out of the rubble, Talon armor cracked and tearing into your skin. After a few feet of crawling, Cassidy noticed the loss of your right leg. Despite that, you seemed hell bound on completing your mission.
Stubborn, just as you were in Deadlock.
You halted your movement towards him and met his gaze. Both of you stared at one another in silence. Eyes locked onto each other like two predators who knew each other's moves all too well. A soft wind blew through the broken concrete of the former building, rustling dust around them. No one spoke a word, but the tension was palpable.
Memories flooded back to Cole - warm summer nights spent under Texas skies, holding you close and feeling your laughter vibrate through him whenever he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As he looked at his gun, he remembered those moments fondly before tightening his grip on it.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange hue over the landscape as the sky turned dark blue above.
Your eyes darted around, spotting your revolver lying nearby, its cold metal reflecting the dying sunlight. He also spotted the familiar gun, not believing that you kept it after all this time. Cole watched you look at it and then back at him, his heart racing wildly as he realized what might happen next. The weapon lay there like a temptress calling for attention.
"You...had it engraved for me?"
"Consider it a parting gift, darlin'"
You slowly started reaching for the weapon, fingers curling slightly as if to caress it.
Cole swung his arm, pointing his gun directly at you without even thinking about it. This action froze you mid-reach, leaving you staring at him with an unreadable expression.
"Don't shoot me out of panic," you said in a unnervingly calm voice, though whether it was meant as a taunt or genuine plea, Cole couldn't discern.
Cole ground his teeth together, searching for the right words to say without lowering his guard. He kept his sights trained on you, never breaking eye contact even for a moment.
Before Cole could find his voice, you began speaking calmly once more, "Humans need conflict; it's out of love that I want society to grow stronger." Your cold eyes pierce through his very being.
"Talon will strengthen humanity."
He watched as you started reaching for the pistol again, his grip on Peacemaker tightening further.
The world seemed distant to Cole as the sounds of your voice filled his mind, echoing with justifications and explanations for why you ended up here. His ears rang with the weight of your words, making everything else feel far away as you continued your 'speech'.
You truly believed Talon was helping the world.
"Please… darlin', don't make me do this," Cole whispered desperately under his breath, his voice cracking as he fought tears.
Silence reigned once more as the cool evening breeze danced around them, lifting dust devils into the air. The moon crested the horizon, bathing them in pale light.
"My heart and actions are utterly unclouded," you said softly, almost sadly. Then suddenly, you lunged for the pistol, grasping it firmly before leveling it at Cole.
The click of an empty chamber echoed in the quiet desert air, followed almost instantaneously by the sharp retort of a single gunshot.
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aprocessionofthoughts · 7 months
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To lose control
ai-less whumptober 2023 day 6- mind control fandom- Danny Phantom x DC TW- loss of control summary- Danny's been working part time for the JLD when they come across and artifact he'd hoped to never see again.
ao3 ai-less whumptober masterlist Part 1 of ITR
Danny had been a consultant for the Justice League and part time member to the JLD for over a year now.
They both thought he was just a human with a connection to the occult. He planned to keep it that way. He didn’t really want to get back into hero-ing. He had had enough of that and was quite happy that most of his rogues were now his friends. And any ghost that wasn’t friendly was often taken care of by his parents who had greatly changed their views after he had told them his secret.
With his luck, he should have known that all his work at keeping Phantom a secret from the heroes would eventually go down the drain.
********
Danny paced by the side of the warehouse waiting for the League to finish taking down the summoners. He was merely here to help with the cleanup and to help determine which artifacts were dangerous and to collect any tomes for the JLD to review later.
Danny thought that Constantine could handle that on his own, but apparently since he was still ‘new’ the League had thought it necessary to send him so he could get more experience.
Finally, his comm dings and he makes his way to the door.
Constantine is inside along with the Bats, Danny really only recognizes Batman and the current Robin, the rest look familiar but he can’t remember any names. 
Though that one with the red helmet sure feels familiar. Almost as if…
He’s cut off from that train of thought when he senses pick up another familiar energy reading. One that makes him freeze in place, eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?”
Danny stumbles back. Holy Ancients! That’s Batman. How had he gotten so close without Danny noticing? Oh right, he was distracted by the energy he had hoped to never feel again, already he could feel memories trying to pull him into a panic.
Danny ignores the Bat who’s looming over him in favor of looking around the room. There was obviously a fight and Danny can see a summoning circle in the center of the open space with knocked over candles around the edge and piles of scattered herbs. The scent was making his nose prickle.
Danny ignored it as well as the Bat who seemed to be getting broodeir. Where was… There. He zeroed in on one of the cultists. A cultist who was wearing a necklace with a red gem. A very familiar red gem. 
Danny lets out a small gasp and Batman follows his gaze, his own eyes narrowing. 
“What is it?” 
Constantine is turning to them too, as are the other Bats.
“What’s wrong, mate?”
Danny can see the other Bats tensing,
Danny opens his mouth to tell them about the dangerous artifact, no need to tell them about said artifact’s abilities, when the cultist looks up and meets Danny’s eyes. Then he grins his eyes glowing faintly as the shard of crystal also glows.
“Look what we have here.” comes the raspy voice. “And here I’d been upset when our ritual was ruined.”
“What’s he talking about?” says the bat with a blue bird shape across his chest. Robin is starting to approach the cultist. 
“His necklace—”
“Stop.” says the man and Danny’s jaw clamps shut. He can feel the Red starting to haze his vision and he fights against it.
“Mind.. control..” he rasps, his body twitching as it fights to throw off the gem’s effects.
Robin has nearly reached the cultist. 
“Stop him.”
Between one blink and the next Danny finds himself having flung Robin away. Everyone is ready to fight now and the Red is still fighting to take over his vision.
“Run!” he manages. He doesn't want to fight them. Not if they don’t have the proper equipment. They don’t know what he is, what he can do. He doesn’t want to hurt anybody, except maybe the cultist.
“Strange, that you have a ghost working for you. Though I’ve never seen one look so human before.” Danny hears the cultist say, but he can’t move. He feels like a passenger in his own body. He can see everyone giving each other uncertain looks. They haven’t moved yet, but they will soon if they don’t think Danny’s a threat.
The bats have started to move towards him when the cultist says, “Attack.”
Danny feels the Red wash over him as he fires an ecto-beam at the nearest bat. At the last second, Danny’s able to redirect it to miss.
At least everyone’s on higher alert now.
But his body keeps trying to attack everyone and even though he’s fighting it, Danny knows it will only be so long before he succumbs to the Red. 
As he’s grappling with Batman he manages to grunt through gritted teeth, “Find– Manson–” 
Then the cultist shrieks, “Get over here!” and Danny finds himself putting up a shield between the cultist and the hero wearing black and blue. “Get me out of here.” the cultist growls.
Danny turns to grab him, making them both invisible and intangible as the Red drowns him.
He can only hope that they’ll find his friends before he does anything too terrible.
Then, there is only Red.
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quartzlightz · 5 months
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Time makes chaos
Wild: Why is that entire town on fire, and for once, how is it not my fault?
Twi, face full of confusion and disappointment: I wish I knew..
Wars: Well you’re about to know.
Wars comes walking up with the rest of the chain in tow. Out of all of them Time looked the most guilty. The only not guilty looking ones were Hyrule and Sky.
Wars: And Time was the one who started this entire mess to begin with actually.
Twi, dragging his hands down his face: Oh Hylia please help me..
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lily-blackstone · 4 months
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Blood-Soaked Love
General!Lilia Vanrouge x Human General!Reader (Gender not mentioned)
Note: I wrote this shit like nearly a year ago probably and it's been sitting in my notes ever since so here's a slightly edited version hahaajajahjajakksbdhdjsksk
Description: Under the cover of darkness, only there can you embrace you lover. And there, you must end his life as well.
After all, as a General in the Human army, your loyalty to your race reigned above all else in your life. And to think you valued anything, even your lover, more, was nothing but a lie to yourself.
The leaves crunched softly under your feet as you walked towards your destination. It was late, having passed midnight hours ago.
You should've been asleep in your tent, catching up on some much needed rest during this small unspoken truce after the dust of war had settled for the night. The battle was unusually gruesome, both sides suffering heavy losses.
You suspected that if everything went as it should've, the next day would have no fighting, perhaps one or two small skirmishes at most but no full scale battle.
That is, as previously stated, if everything went as it should've.
But unfortunately, things would not go as they should've under normal circumstances.
Because the circumstances of your relationship with General Lilia Vanrouge were anything but normal.
Of course, the two of you just couldn't be what everyone else thought you to be. What you should be. You two couldn't y'know, absolutely despise eachother. View the other with nothing but pure malice and hatred for what each of you had done to the other. But of course, you just couldn't be normal about eachother.
Nonono, you guys just had to have a 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 after things got sidetracked during what should've been a very tense and formal meeting to arrange a truce. Why? Because a year before said truce and a year before the war, you two just 𝘩𝘢𝘥 to happen to run into eachother while undercover and then somehow accidentally help eachother and then share both of your first kisses-
So you guys just 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 be in a secret relationship for the past 3 months since that little meeting.
Seeing eachother only late at night under the cover of darkness, having to always be a hundred percent sure that absolutely 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 saw the two of you together.
Recently though, your meetings have been less and less frequent. From at least once a week to thrice a month if you were lucky. Confrontations in the battlefield were incredibly rare and both of you worked hard to ensure it stayed that way.
But, the decrease in your midnight randevouz's were to be expected. The war was getting desperate. Supplies, morale and manpower slowly beginning to dwindle on both sides meant everyone was desperate for a victory.
Including you.
And what you were planning to do tonight was precisely the reason why you were sure the unspoken truce would not last.
And so, as you stepped into the small clearing, your eyes locking with the man you'd grown love; a silence of mutual understanding enveloped the area. Not even the chirping of owls could be heard. Not a single animal, nor the trees dared to make a sound. Only the wind swept past, as if gently chiding you both to reconsider, or perhaps it was simply waiting in anticipation.
After what felt like an eternity, you stepped forward.
Lilia said nothing, only staring up at the moon as you sat down beside him, leaning against the tree he was under. The two of you sat in silence for a few more seconds before Lilia spoke up "The moon looks beautiful tonight, don't you agree?"
Gazing up at the full moon, you found it to be quite beautiful as he had said. "It is indeed."
Silence again.
Though, none of the silences were uncomfortable. But they were not comfortable either. Rather, they were... How do I put it? Ah, the calm before the storm. Both of you knew what was on the other's mind. You both knew what was coming, what had to be done. And yet, you both wished desperately in your heart for the opposite.
But unfortunately, the world was unkind. It was merciless. It had no obligation to listen to the whims of two people, so why would it?
Eventually, you stood up. Placing a hand on the hilt of your sword, you unsheathed it. "Lilia, I think it's time we ended this little game of ours" This stupid pathetic game of playing hide and seek with the rest of the world, trying desperately to somehow save a relationship which was doomed to fail from the very beginning.
Lilia stood up, unsheathing his sword as well. The two of you faced eachother, looking into eachothers eyes "Indeed. It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?" He said with a hollow smile and you gripped the hilt of your sword tighter. "Yes, it was an honour to have known you. But I truly hope that neither of us have the displeasure of seeing each other in hell."
And with that, you drove your sword forward, aiming for the heart you'd long since trapped within your calloused fingers.
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arctophyllax · 6 months
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Beyond Stars and Galaxies (Zevlor/Tav/Gale)
Requested by @the-videodame
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Picture published and enhanced by NASA.
[NSFW content]
It had always been clear to you that Gale wasn’t the type to yearn for another person while being with you. Neither did he seem happy if you offered him freedom with someone else nor did he seem happy if you asked to have fun with another person. And this had always been fine with you, though a certain tiefling had been stuck inside your mind ever since you helped him and his people at the druid grove.
Surprise was an understatement to what you felt when you saw Gale’s gaze linger a moment too long on the former Hellrider after you had saved him from the colony and coaxed him out of the nightmares the Absolute tortured him with.
Zevlor seemed afraid after what happened there, his eyes never meeting yours for more than a fraction of a second, always looking elsewhere when you attempted to hold eye contact. He seemed guilty, embarrassed even, that he was manipulated so easily, by a goddess whose intention isn’t willing faith but blind devotion. That he of all people, who abandoned his god before, fell so easily for the tricks of one not his to pray to.
You had been there, you had saved him from that colony, pulled him out of the mind flayer pod. He fell against you when you opened the pod and you felt his tears fall upon your shoulder, you felt his sobs wreck his body. To keep him from falling, you wrapped your arm around his waist and slowly stepped back to put a safe distance between you and the mind flayer pod. You had seen enough of those to last you a lifetime.
What you failed to perceive, as you held the former soldiers in your arms, were Gale’s concerned glances, his eyes flickering with profound interest and silent understanding. He heard his whispers as he was caught in there, the nightmare of failing his people on repeat in his tortured mind. Gale knew what it was like to have failed a god, to feel unworthy of that god’s love and protection. But a part of him also knew that gods were far from perfect, that they made mistakes. That they usually had it in them to forgive those who lost all hope.
You brought Zevlor to camp with you later that day, tending to his wounds. Feeding him a proper meal and making sure he got some much-needed rest. He was mostly silent during that late evening. He complied when you pried his armour off, though he shuddered when cold air hit his bruised skin. Gale tended to the campfire, using magic to create a flame, staying there to ensure that it didn’t die out before Zevlor is tucked was and asleep.
Gale wasn’t usually this warm and caring of people you invited to join your camp for a night. Even if they were injured or distressed, it would usually always be Karlach reassuring them and Astarion making a few insensitive though somewhat funny remarks. Usually, Gale would simply cook dinner for everyone at camp, eat in silence and retreat to his tent early. To do whatever wizarding thing he needs to do. Be it reading books and studying or disassociating to the point his body accidentally enters the astral plane. You would lie if you said that this didn’t happen before.
But today, he was there. And he cared. There was a tenderness in the way he handled the old tiefling that was usually only reserved for you, yet you didn’t feel territorial over Gale at all at that moment.
On the contrary, you treated Zevlor just as lovingly, sitting next to him before the campfire, draping a soft blanket over his shoulders and running your hand through his messy hair, removing the hair tie which travelled down to the tips of his hair after the fight.
Gale was much more reserved with his approach and instead simply sat next to him, looking for any sign of discomfort or hurt as he ate the last bite of his meal.
As soon as he finished his food, Gale took his bowl and asked whether he was still hungry. Zevlor politely refused and mentioned that he was way too restless to fill his stomach properly that night. The wizard showed understanding and immediately joined you at the campfire again after putting the cutlery away.
You sat behind Zevlor now, running your hands over his back, finding tense muscles there, beneath the blanket that was still wrapped around him. You didn’t quite massage the tension out of them, far too afraid to hurt the tiefling any further. He had too many injuries right now, and you didn’t want to risk being the source of any more discomfort, though you were aware that if it were to cause him discomfort he would not admit to it and let you continue nonetheless. Your arms wrapped around his waist instead, and you buried your face in the back of his neck, inhaling his slight sulphuric scent, mixed with a metallic scent of blood and armour, and salty sweat that hasn’t been washed away yet.
Gale took one of Zevlor’s hands and pressed it against his chest, heart beating wildly directly beneath the netherese orb. He leaned forward, whispering to the oathbroken paladin.
“Forget gods and faith for this one night. Let us show you love that surpasses that of a deity. Feelings that by far surpass your nightmares and pleasure that makes anything you‘ve known before seem small and insignificant. Let us have you tonight. And if you like it, perhaps, forevermore.”
His brown eyes didn’t leave blown yellow pupils for even a fraction of a second, and your arms tightened around the former Hellrider’s waist, lips leaving a trail of kisses along his spine, as if to authenticate the wizard’s words.
“Let us love you, Zev. You deserve this and more.”
“You offer your love so freely to an old man like me… but I can’t find the will in me to refuse that offer.”
His reply came out hoarse, he was clearly still exhausted and his body was still aching, but there was an undeniably excited undertone to his words.
His consent induced both you and the human wizard to continue in your efforts: Gale kept ahold of Zevlor’s hand and brought it to his lips, planting kisses from his fingertips to his forearm, the tiefling’s hand going lax in Gale’s. You didn’t stop kissing his skin either, hand travelling from his waist beneath his shirt, feeling his abdomen, tense muscle and marred flesh, deep scars telling stories of countless battles fought—not always in his favour, but survived nonetheless. And never had you been more glad for someone else’s life. You couldn’t imagine the emptiness in your heart had you come too late to save him from the colony.
For him, you would travel far and wide, find him in every corner of the universe and defend his life with your own.
“Do you want to go any further or do you wish to keep it at chaste kisses? I wouldn’t mind either way, tonight is all about you.”
You paid little attention to the conversation between Gale and Zevlor, your hand still feeling over old scars and infernal ridges. You wished to never let him go, too afraid that he would end up being harmed again, but at the same time, you did not wish to thieve him of his freedom.
“I want to go as far as you’re willing to go.”
At his words you raised yourself to your knees behind him, one of your hands reaching up to wrap around one of his horns, gently pulling at it to encourage him to turn his face to the side so you can embrace his lips in a kiss. You did your best to be gentle, knowing that he was injured still, no matter how enthusiastically he consented to this. You knew that he wouldn’t admit to any pain, so it was best to avoid causing any in the first place.
You settled back against the ground and pulled Zevlor back with you, letting him lean against you between your spread legs, when you saw Gale’s hands travel downwards to your new lover’s waistband. The new position made it easy for Gale to pull down the layers of fabric with minimal effort required from Zevlor. His lips found the skin at the tiefling’s lower stomach, mouth drawing down further until Zevlor let out a desperate noise into your mouth when Gale’s hot breath hit his erection.
His tongue darted out against the shaft, following veins and ridges there, licking an obscene stripe up the backside of it. Zevlor whimpered again into your kiss, and you felt his body tremble, his tail wrapping around your thigh, tightening it around your leg involuntarily every time the pleasure wrecked his body.
“Isn’t he good with his tongue? I almost envy you, you’re basically burning…”
And your words were true, both parts, Gale was indeed divine with his tongue, and Zevlor’s skin was indeed heated to the point where he could compete with Karlach. You couldn’t blame him for it—he seemed absolutely depraved and finally, he was getting what he was denied for so many years.
When Gale’s hand reached toward the base of Zevlor’s sex, finger rubbing over his perineum, magic leaking through his fingertips, leaving a pleasant tingle on the sensitive skin that ultimately brought Zevlor over the edge, tail tightly curling around your thigh as he came all over his stomach, and, partially, over Gale.
The wizard kept his hands on the disgraced paladin, letting him ride out his orgasm, leaning down to lick the seed off Zevlor’s stomach—much to his abashment.
At his panicked wail, you only smiled and Gale laughed against his stomach before looking up and grinning at the older man.
“You really do taste as sweet as you act!”
Cat got the cream.
(I didn’t want to write too much and make the plot too rigid, so this is a semi-open ending and you can imagine the rest: either they continue all night or they let Zevlor have some well deserved rest. The choice is yours)
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sidekick-hero · 3 months
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(steddie | explicit | wc: 2.6k | cw: open ending, mention of Eddie/OMC, short Steve/OFC scene| tags: frat boy steve, modern au, fuckbuddies, not really unrequited love | AO3)
Written for @steddielovemonth, prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking the leap
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Steve screwed up, no way around it. Fucked up big time.
In his defense, he didn't know that Eddie was in love with him. How could he have known? For all intents and purposes, they were just two horny guys hooking up. Having fun, blowing off steam.
For Steve, it had just been some harmless fucking around with the pretty guy who sells weed at the Sigma Chi parties.
At least, that's how it started.
They met at the very first Sigma Chi party he attended after his initiation. Eddie had been making the rounds, trading goods for money, and Jason, the current vice president and right hand to their president Billy Hargrove, had told Steve to try some, the freak sold good shit. It was the only reason he was allowed to enter the Sigma Chi house in the first place.
Steve, who had vowed to make a good impression and earn the respect of his brothers, did as he was told, even though he knew what his father would say about him smoking pot. But he also thinks his father would approve if it helped Steve's chances of moving up in the chapter faster. His father was president of Sigma Chi when he was in college, and Steve knows that he expects Steve to follow in his footsteps.
It's rare that Steve's father even acknowledges Steve outside of snide remarks and orders, but the day Steve told him during their weekly Sunday family dinner after church that he had successfully completed his pledge and would become a Sigma Chi brother, his father had patted him on the back and said, "Well done, son."
He's been chasing that high ever since, and he won't stop until he's president himself. Maybe then his father will look at him with the same pride and affection he's seen other fathers show their sons. He can be as good as they are, even better. He will prove himself.
None of his plans had included Eddie Munson.
It wasn't like Steve hadn't fooled around with other guys, a quick handjob in the shower after practice, or that one time Tommy had gotten down on his knees for Steve after one too many beers by Steve's pool. None of those times counted, though, because Steve might not be as straight as everyone thought he was, but that didn't mean he was going to act on his desires once he was out of school and ready to take on his responsibilities as a man.
He would graduate with a degree in business, just like his father.
He would become president of his chapter of Sigma Chi, just like his father.
And he would marry a pretty girl with a respectable family and good connections, just like his father.
All of these plans took a back seat in his mind the moment Steve saw Eddie on his knees for one of his brothers. As he watched Eddie suck and lick Patrick's cock like it was a popsicle in the middle of summer, he was frozen in place, his eyes and mouth wide open. The look on Eddie's face was what got to Steve the most, completely blissed out, his eyes closed as drool and pre-cum dripped down his chin.
No girl had ever looked like that while blowing Steve.
Tommy hadn't looked like that either.
In that moment he knew he needed Eddie to look like that for Steve.
That's how it started, really. The next time Eddie was at one of their mixers, Steve couldn't look away, his eyes fixed on Eddie's full lips curled around the haughty grin he always wore when dealing with members of the chapter. The girl he'd been making out with just seconds before only got his attention back when she started kneading him through his jeans, and he told himself that's why his dick twitched in anticipation every time he saw Eddie from now on.
He took her to his room and made her come twice before sinking into her, only able to come himself when he thought of Eddie's brown eyes blinking up at him before closing in utter bliss as Steve fed his cock into his waiting mouth.
Afterwards, he walked her to her dorm because he's still a gentleman. He told himself he wasn't disappointed when Eddie was already gone by the time they made their way through the party, which was already on the wane by then.
She told him she had fun and that maybe they could do this again, to which Steve agreed easily, already knowing that they wouldn’t. He kissed her goodnight and waited until she was safe inside before he walked back to the house, deep in his thoughts. That’s why he didn’t even notice the dark figure waiting for him on their porch.
“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you, Harrington? Making her scream and then walking her home? Didn’t think a proper frat boy would do either, to be honest.”
Eddie emerged from the shadows, the light streaming out from the window casting a faint glow on his high cheekbones and round nose. His dark brown eyes seemed bottomless, their depths illuminated with a reddish hue as they reflected the glimmering tip of his joint.
“I don’t see why that's any of your business, Munson. You're overstaying your welcome here. We don’t need any more party favors. Piss off.”
Eddie clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.
"I don't think so. I have a feeling that I have left a customer unsatisfied. Isn't that right, big boy?"
Without Steve noticing, too caught up in everything that was going on, Eddie had come close enough for Steve to feel the warmth of his body against the crisp fall air.
Swallowing audibly, Steve willed his body to take a step back, only to have Eddie follow him until he felt the railing dig into his backside.
"I have no idea..." he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing through his body. To his abject horror, he felt his cock hardening in his jeans.
As if sensing this, Eddie moved even closer so that he could slip his leg between Steve's, his thigh pressed firmly against the bulge at the front of Steve's pants.
"Oh, but I think you do, Stevie. That," and he rubbed his thigh along the straining length of Steve's cock in a delicious drag that had him moaning before he could stop himself, "tells me you know what I'm talking about."
Eddie then started to move his leg, pushing up and basically forcing Steve to ride his thigh. At least that's what Steve told himself, he had no choice but to buck his hips and rub against the offered leg like he was in heat.
"I saw you. When you watched me blow Pat." Steve wants to be horrified, but his cock twitches again at the memory, even as he mentally scoffs at Eddie calling the guy 'Pat' like they're pals. "And I noticed the way you were watching me tonight. You're a naughty boy, aren't you? Did you think about me on my knees for you while you were fucking her, huh?"
Like an out of body experience, Steve had felt his hips pick up speed, those dirty, humiliating words spoken in Eddie's deep, slightly patronizing voice pushing buttons he didn't even know he had. He was close, just rubbing one out on a guy's leg on the front porch of their chapter house, where one of his brothers could walk in on them at any moment.
In that moment, he hated Eddie.
He also wanted to kiss him, so he grabbed the front of Eddie's shirt and pulled him in, biting his lips until they opened for his tongue. It was the safest way to muffle his moans when he came in his pants a few minutes later.
After that it became a habit and three months later fucking Eddie was as much a part of his life as going to church with his parents on Sunday.
And that was fine, he had become well versed in the art of compartmentalizing. A word he had learned from Robin, who sat next to him in his elective psych class and had become something of a friend. Not close enough to confide in yet, but someone with whom he could be a version of himself that he liked a lot more than Sigma Chi brother Steve.
But then Eddie had to go and change the script of their hookups.
It usually went like this: Steve would text Eddie, usually a simple "wanna fuck?" to which Eddie would almost always reply "sure" within five minutes. He'd come over to Eddie's because he couldn't risk one of his brothers finding out, so his room was off-limits, and Eddie would be waiting for him with lube and condoms ready next to the bed. At least Steve liked to think they were there for him.
He hadn't seen Eddie with any other guys since they started to hook up. Not that that would have been a problem, but it was just safer, Steve thought, that's why he liked that thought so much.
They would fuck, Steve would ask if he could take a shower, to which Eddie would always say yes, and then join him under the hot spray for another round. Then Steve would leave until the next time.
Only one day, Eddie had begun to change their routine. He had offered Steve something to eat afterward, claiming he had some pizza left over and asking if Steve was hungry. Which he was, they had been at it for two hours, and he didn't have much to eat for lunch anyway. So they sat on Eddie's bed, still naked, and ate pizza.
It became a habit.
It led to Steve staying longer and longer at Eddie's. Sharing a meal became eating while watching a movie on Eddie's laptop. And then, a few weeks later, after a particularly grueling week, Steve fell asleep while watching Friday the 13th. He woke up tucked into Eddie's side on the bed, a blanket thrown over them, and Eddie snoring softly next to him.
Steve watched him sleep for a long time before he silently slipped out of bed and into the night.
Another thing that had changed in the months they'd been together was the way they fucked. They had quickly worked their way up from hand jobs and blow jobs, and the first time Steve had sunk into Eddie's tight heat, Eddie on his hands and knees urging him on, he knew he would crave that particular feeling for the rest of his straight married life.
They never fucked face-to-face.
Until they did.
It had been Eddie who had pinned Steve down on the bed, back against the headboard, staring up at Eddie as the man coated Steve's hard cock with lube. He had thrown his legs over Steve's and sat on his lap, slowly sinking down onto Steve. It had been maddening. It had been so good that Steve had seen stars, so overwhelmed with pleasure that he had bitten Eddie's shoulder to keep himself from crying out.
Soon, face-to-face had become their new routine.
It was the beginning of the end.
The last time Steve had had Eddie like this, Steve had been on his back with Eddie between his legs, thrusting so deep into him that Steve thought he could feel him in his throat. The weight of Eddie on top of him didn't feel suffocating, it felt grounding. Safe.
Eddie had begun to feel grounding and safe, and Steve didn't know what to do with it, so he just wrapped his legs around Eddie's narrow waist to spur him on.
The way Eddie held him felt different, almost tender, even as he started to fuck him harder, finally fucking him like he meant it. Their chests were pressed together and Eddie's hand gripped Steve's shoulders for leverage while Steve clawed at Eddie's back as he flew higher and higher. One of his hands slid down Eddie's back and grabbed his ass to pull him further in, as if there was any way Eddie could go any deeper.
They both came within seconds of each other, their bodies shaking from the pleasure that was still coursing through them, and Steve never felt better.
At least until Eddie lifted his head and looked down at him and said with wonder in his voice, "God, I love you.”
It was as if he blacked out, someone else taking over his body as he pushed Eddie off of him, scrambling to get up and get dressed as he yelled, "No, no, no, no!"
"Steve?" Eddie had asked, his larger-than-life persona reduced to something small and breakable. "I know we haven't talked about it, but I thought... you can't tell me there's nothing between us but two guys fucking. Not anymore."
And he was right, that was the problem.
Everything Steve had worked so hard for and he almost threw it all away by falling for someone his friends or parents would never approve of. He just couldn't do it, it was too much to ask of him. Even for Eddie.
"There's nothing between us but two guys fucking. I'm sorry you caught feelings, Munson, but that's not my problem."
"'Sorry you caught feelings'? Are you kidding me?"
"I don't know what you want me to say. Maybe stay away from the house for a while and sell your shit somewhere else, yeah? Don't make it harder on yourself."
Steve walked out before he could see Eddie's reaction to his words, but he did as Steve asked and stayed away.
He should be happy, after all, he had dodged a bullet. Patrick might like to get his rocks off with another guy once in a while, but Patrick was no president material. Patrick was no Harrington.
So why was Steve holed up in his room while his brothers downstairs were celebrating the end of the semester like there was no tomorrow?
Because Steve screwed up, no way around it. Fucked up big time.
He fell in love with Eddie Munson.
Steve could have Eddie with him, in this bed, right now, if he hadn't pushed him away out of fear. And now, five weeks later, Eddie was going out with a guy Steve hadn't seen before. He'd seen them kissing outside the cafeteria, in broad daylight, with people milling around. No one had given a shit about it. No one but Steve, who had felt the pain of his heart squeezing in his chest. Squeezing his nose to hold back the tears, he rushed to the nearest bathroom and pressed his burning face against the cool tiles.
What was he supposed to do now?
Steve knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to leave that house that had felt more like a jail to him and go over to Eddie’s, climb into his bed, and let himself be held. There, in the safety of Eddie’s arms and the cover of the night, he could have told Eddie that he might love him, too. Steve could have admitted that he was scared, terrified even, and Eddie… Eddie would probably have teased him. He could almost have heard his voice, asking Steve, “And you were letting that stop you?” like the thought was laughable.
Maybe it was. Maybe it should have been.
Steve didn’t know. He hated that he didn’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t let it stop him.
Maybe some things were worth taking a leap and trusting that someone would catch you.
Before he could have let his fear stop him, he pushed himself off his bed and put on his shoes.
Maybe it was time to try to be the man he wanted to be, not the man his father wanted him to be. And that man was in love with Eddie Munson and willing to take a leap for him.
He just hoped Eddie would catch him on the other side.
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sunnynwanda · 5 months
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Making amends
Hero throws the car without even a glance back. They know Villain can take a hit - they've taken a lot worse than that. Hero can recall throwing an entire food truck at them and not causing any damage whatsoever. Their rivalry, for the lack of a better word, goes back to what Hero calls times immemorial - high school, more precisely. They had always been somewhat irritated by each other - yet still enticed to rub the other the wrong way. Mostly for enjoyment but also because they liked the feeling.
Hero has never seriously harmed or wounded them, nor did they aspire to do so. Except the stars must have aligned against them today because Villain is too distracted fixing their fabulous (their word, not Hero's) hair to react in time.
The car lands on top of them with a loud thud and a strained whimper followed by a slew of curses. It reaches Hero's trained ear, prompting them to look over their shoulder. They spot the car and notice their enemy's legs sticking out next to the front wheel. They freeze for a second before sprinting over and lifting the destroyed vehicle while Villain attempts to get up, coughing and muttering cusses under their breath. It's only then that Hero notices the strange angle of their arm. They know they fucked up when a strangled moan leaves Villain's mouth at the first attempt to move it.
Three days later, Villain is back in the game despite the cast now adorning their fractured forearm. And Hero... Hero cannot bring themselves to meet their gaze for a good week after.
It's almost ten days since the incident, and they are doing their usual play round around the city when Villain stumbles back after a particularly nasty kick, unable to counter the attack. They wave their healthy arm for balance and barely dodge the next one when Hero, as oblivious as they are, picks the worst time for banter.
"What is it, dove? Thought you could take a hit." The words leave their mouth before they can process the implications. They bite their tongue, but it's too late.
Villain's eyes widen momentarily before turning into vicious slits. "Oh really?"
Venom drips from their voice, although Hero can see the smirk fighting for its place on their thin lips. An angry and ominous smirk they do not want to explore. "I could. Before a certain asshole decided to break my fucking arm."
"I said I was sorry!" Hero exclaims, seizing the attacks and darting back to avoid Villain's fist. They did this to themselves, and they know it too. Should've kept my mouth shut, Hero thinks. They did not mean to mock - it just came out wrong and opened the floodgates of Villain's outrage.
"You don't seem sorry, judging by those cocky comments of yours!" Villain retorts, charging forward. Hero sidesteps, scared to cause any more damage.
"Oh, come on!" As if they weren't feeling guilty as is, Villain is now rubbing it in. "You know I didn't do that on purpose."
"Doesn't make my arm heal faster, does it? Nor does it stop you from questioning my competence." Villain's voice betrays them, wobbling on the last word. To say that Hero is shocked is an understatement.
"I never..." They stop mid-sentence, searching their rival's face and gulping at the defeated expression on their downcast face. "Please, look at me, Villain. I really am sorry."
When they don't react, Hero continues. A horrible decision on their part. "We can cancel our fights for a while, hm?"
That does earn them a reaction. Not the one they were hoping for though.
"Why?" Villain's eyes dart to their face, meeting Hero's with seething challenge. "You think I can't handle you with one arm?"
The wise thing to do would be to seal their lips and never utter a word again. But Hero was never known for their quick wits, so they chose to seal their fate. "I just don't want you to get hurt. Or maybe I could..."
"What?" Villain's stare is ice cold. Their voice is calm too - serene, almost. Yet it sends a chill down Hero's spine. "You could what, Hero? Say it, I fucking dare you!"
"I wasn't..." They try to salvage the situation despite their mind screeching at them to stop talking.
"You weren't going to say you'd go easy on me?" Villain inquires, still maintaining external tranquillity. There is a fire raging behind their gaze, white-hot and scorching. They marvel Hero's audacity to doubt them.
Hero is speechless. At their own stupidity. At the way they can't seem to control their fucking mouth. At the way they froze like a goddamn deer in headlights. And a tiny bit - at the way their words offended Villain so deeply. Somehow, in all the years of their rivalry, they never grasped just how much their opinion mattered to their frenemy.
"Can't even deny it?" Villain sighs, running a hand through their hair to suppress the urge to rip Hero into pieces and make a coat out of them. "You know what? Fuck you."
Villain turns to leave, not quite sure if they are mad or disappointed. This seems to bring Hero back to life and consciousness. "No, wait!" They chase after them, but Villain won't slow their pace, striding away with determined heavy steps. They count to three and can't help the sigh that escapes them when Hero stops them. Knew it.
"Please, I swear I didn't mean it like that!" Hero yells to their turned back, struggling to catch up because they keep tumbling over their own feet. "Dove, please, I'll make it up to you."
Villain's lips stretch into a smug smile when Hero comes to a halt next to them, clutching their hand in their shaking fingers.
"Oh, you will." They nod to themselves, content that their plan, as painful as it was, worked out. But when they meet Hero's hopeful eyes and allow them to graze their fingertips over their fractured limb, the ache subsides, slowly dissipating under the gentle touch of their cold skin. "You will."
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