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#yes i will continue to develop them as i please
hunn1e-bunn1e · 2 days
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Extra 1 - "Solitary Fallen Star & Foreign-Born Kin"
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
In which the Traveler and Paimon unknowingly come across a mysterious adeptus by the name of Sky Weaver while the two are exploring near the sparsely populated cliffsides of Mt. Mingyuan. Or; In which the long-forgotten tale of the adeptus Sky Weaver is uncovered by Aether from the lips of the various Adepti of the Nation of Liyue and the people who know them.
Prologue | Part 1 | (1.5) | Part 2 | (2.5) | Part 3 | (3.5) | Part 4 | (4.5) | Part 5 | (5.5) | Part 6 | (6.5) | Epilog | Extra 1 | Extra 2
                                                                                                   
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"Hey Traveler..."
Paimon mumbles as she closes her little fist onto the fabric of her pillowcase; drooping eyes fighting to stay open.
The golden blonde turns his head from the book in his hands to face her; his long unbraided hair swaying with the movement of his head. He marks his page half-mindedly and sets his reading material aside, providing the small girl with his full attention.
"Yes Paimon?" 
Aether answers her softly, eyes patient and curious.
"When you find your sister..."  
The small girl whispers as she fidgets and plays with her fingers; a nervous habit that she developed through their time together.
"When you find her... you're going to leave right?"  
Aether pauses; he hadn't really thought of that. What will he do after Lumine finally stops running from him? After she finally decides that he's ready to be with her... 
Actually, now that he thought about it, this wasn't fair. Why is he forced to go and look for her while she knows where he is at any given time? Why doesn't she just tell him what she's doing? Who she's fighting for? What are her plans? As her brother, he would follow her to the ends of the earth... so why is she doing this? Doesn't she understand how painful this is for him?
The golden blonde stares down at his lap in thought; does he... really need to find his sister? Is he doing this because he wants to or out of the moral obligation of being her brother?
Lumine... Aether loves Lumine... but...
"To... to answer your question, Paimon, it's very likely."  
Aether spoke absentmindedly, his mind still preoccupied with his racing thoughts.
The fairy-like girl watches as her friend stares into space. She figures that he's just now thinking about the circumstances that he's been forced into. Her white hair bounces as she sits up; eyes filled with sympathy.
"Hey Trav—... Hey Aether?"  
Paimon calls to him softly, her little hand reaching out and tugging at his borrowed night clothes.
The boy looks up at her, listening but still dazed with thoughts. He only mutters a quiet 'Yeah?' as he absentmindedly plays with a lock of his kinky golden blonde hair.
"When you guys go... c‐can you please– can you please take Paimon with you? P‐paimon doesn't want you to leave her behind..."  
Paimon whimpers with wobbly lip; tears beginning to gather and bead up on her thick lashes.
Aether blinks; the small girl's teary eyes snapping back to reality and prompting him to wipe away her tears with the pads of his thumb. He smiles softly, the upward curve of his lips filled with love and gentleness.
"Paimon... I don't know if I ever told you this, but for a while now, I've considered you my little sister. Family never leaves each other behind."  
The golden blonde answers sincerely, raising a hand to carefully ran his fingers through her soft white hair.
'—or at least, they aren't supposed to.' He finishes in his thoughts.
Even if Lumine continues to shy away from him, at least he has Paimon here with him to keep him company.
"You know... you've cried an awful lot these past few days, I'm surprised you even have any tears left in you. Maybe that's why you eat so much.~"  
Aether coos as he teasingly, but lightly, pushes her head down and ruffles her hair.
Paimon squeals at the weight on her and her friends playful jab, smack her little fists into his thigh in defiance.
"HEY! Paimon thought that we were having a moment! Quite being mean or Paimon will definitely hide all your Mora!"  
The small girl growls at him, her cheeks puffed up in irritation.
Yeah... maybe– maybe Aether can put off finding Lumine for the time being. He loves her... but maybe it's time for him to be selfish. Just for a little while...
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🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Genshin Masterlist and Series Masterlist!
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dayas · 2 years
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I’m so SICK Brooke was worried about Lucas and Peyton being a thing after he cheated on her with her best friend and then they go and kiss AGAIN and hide it from her AGAIN 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡
And to juxtapose it with them (Brooke and Lucas) “learning to trust each other again” and all through that time intertwining Lucas and Peyton moments like. Be fr 😭💀 It could have worked better narratively (imo) if they would have separated them but by doing this it felt (to me personally!) that Brooke and Lucas were never that serious to begin with because their growth was always one step forward and three steps back.
#sumn about doing the baddest bitch on the show wrong don’t sit right w/ me#especially with how they never let brooke and lucas stand on their own literally every other episode they had lucas and peyton like…#respectfully brucas never stood a chance it was so unserious#and to have peyton go lucas-jake-pete-jake-lucas like 😭😭😭😭😭😭#NOT TO MENTION: all they literally had to do was tell the truth. i get peyton thought she was going to die but AFTER?#she AND lucas had all the time in the world to tell brooke and neither of them said shit#i can’t blame her for not trusting them because they literally did the same shit twice 💀🤡#anyways it just got on my nerves that brooke and lucas could never have their own moment without peyton coming up and needing lucas#i think they set lucas and peyton up to be soulmates which is fine but they didn’t have to throw brooke through hoops to do it#OR make her and lucas the ‘even though we aren’t technically perfectly suited I still choose you and i keep choosing you’ couple#anyways free brooke PLEASE abeg let peyton continue her development and lucas develop further and THEN bring leyton thx#somebody tell me does brooke actually get her happily ever after and prince charming like she deserves though AT LEAST TELL ME YES OR NO#BLINK TWICE I’LL TAKE ANYTHING#brooke davis#brucas#one tree hill#oth#k watches#now do i agree with brooke being all controlling? no. but i understand why she didn’t want them together at least in the beginning.#plus she said that they went days without meaningful conversations but every conversation he has with peyton is meaningful.#even when brooke was going through it lucas was with peyton#brucas was just so unserious 😭 in theory they made sense but my point is they didn’t have to do her like that to set up leyton endgame#lucas scott#peyton sawyer#to be clear this is NOT anti leyton but it IS pro brooke#k chats
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norrizzandpia · 5 months
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you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3
THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️
You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)
Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?
Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts
Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED!
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.
Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”
He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”
He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”
Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”
“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.
She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”
Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”
“I was standing up for myself!”
“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”
“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”
“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”
“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”
“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.
“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.
Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.
Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”
Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”
Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”
The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.
“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.
Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”
Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.
Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”
She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”
“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”
“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.
Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”
Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”
Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”
“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.
Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”
The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”
Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.
There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.
Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.
It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.
He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.
“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.
She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.
“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.
He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.
Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”
His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.
Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.
“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”
Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?
Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”
He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.
He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.
These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.
Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.
She can’t get feelings.
She won’t get feelings.
And that was that, she decided.
“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”
She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.
Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”
He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”
She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”
As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.
“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.
She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.
He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”
He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.
For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.
What a dangerous game.
Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.
She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.
He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.
He’s worried about her.
A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.
The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.
Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.
That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.
The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.
He wouldn’t risk that now.
Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.
“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.
He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.
Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.
“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.
“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.
“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.
She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.
Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.
“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.
“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”
“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.
“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”
Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.
Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.
Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”
Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”
She nods, “Yeah.”
They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.
“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.
She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”
Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.
“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.
If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.
Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.
Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.
When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”
“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.
He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.
Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.
It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.
His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.
“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.
She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.
Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.
Lando’s drink that’s completely full.
🏎️
Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.
His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.
All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.
The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.
His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.
Fuck it, he thinks.
He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.
No cameras, no fans, no press.
Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.
All I need is your love tonight.
“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.
Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”
He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”
She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”
He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”
She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.
When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”
She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”
Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”
He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.
A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”
Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.
“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.
His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.
He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.
“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.
The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.
He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.
After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.
He loves this. He loves he-
“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.
He can’t be feeling that way.
He isn’t.
Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”
The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”
Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.
He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”
You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.
The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.
She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.
She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.
By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”
He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”
He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.
Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.
Had he always meant everything?
Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”
There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.
Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.
“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.
Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”
Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”
Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”
Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.
Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.
“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.
Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.
Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”
He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”
His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.
“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.
It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.
Y/n’s car.
Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”
Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”
Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.
Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.
“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.
He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”
The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”
“How much help?”
Silence.
Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”
“She’s not moving.”
Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.
Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”
Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”
Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”
Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.
When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.
He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.
There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.
There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.
When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.
Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”
She nods, “Will be.”
“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.
They really were selling this.
Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”
He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”
Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.
“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”
The truth hangs in the air painfully.
They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.
All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.
Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.
And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.
“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.
He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.
“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.
Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.
With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.
The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.
With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.
Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”
She nods, “Always.”
A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.
In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.
At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.
Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.
How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.
🏎️
Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.
He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.
They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.
“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.
Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”
Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”
He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”
She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”
Of fucking course, he thinks.
“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.
Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.
“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.
“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.
Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”
Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.
They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”
Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.
“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”
His response, easy and light, crushes her.
Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”
Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.
He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”
Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”
Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”
He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.
Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”
Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.
A look of intense love.
She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”
He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.
🏎️
Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.
She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”
As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.
Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”
He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”
“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.
Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”
Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”
Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”
Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”
Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”
His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.
Those things go unsaid.
Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”
She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”
“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.
The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?
Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”
She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.
“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.
He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.
She isn’t. How could he say that?
How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?
How could he let her get away?
UPDATE: i posted part 2! Find it here.
A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE
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gotham-daydreams · 7 months
Text
Not Here
[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]
(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)
Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain
Part 2 of this post.
๑۩۞۩๑—————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.
He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.
Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.
Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.
Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.
The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.
Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.
["I, um, I was just wondering..."]
["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]
It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.
So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.
["Why- why you're a cat!"]
The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.
["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]
Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.
A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.
Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...
Was... was that...?
"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.
No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...
How long ago did this take place?
["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]
["Very well. Third chorus..."]
["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]
["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]
["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]
["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]
Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.
He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.
It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.
It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...
... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.
Why didn't you tell him about this?
"Master Bruce?"
The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.
He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.
Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.
Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.
"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"
"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."
"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.
"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.
You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.
"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.
There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.
Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.
"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.
It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.
Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.
"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."
"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.
He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.
"And this happened all three times?"
"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?
Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?
All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.
...
Wait a minute-
"Alfred, how long ago was this?"
Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.
"A few years ago, sir."
What?
At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"
"Oh, well, they're..."
... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.
Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?
Oh no.
What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?
How old are you?
"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.
Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.
This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.
--------------
Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.
Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.
Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.
"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.
Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.
... Should he?
He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.
Oh. You weren't even here...
Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.
Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?
Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.
Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.
Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.
It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.
Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.
Music.
Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.
Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.
The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.
All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.
He wish he was there with you.
He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...
He had missed everything.
From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.
Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.
... He had to find you.
No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.
So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.
He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.
As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.
Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-
Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...
Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.
Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.
Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...
When was the last time you touched these?
It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...
He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.
Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.
"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.
"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.
Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.
"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.
Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.
His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.
Your name was engraved on it.
"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.
"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.
"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.
Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.
It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?
Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?
"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.
"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.
Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...
... Oh god.
Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.
He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.
Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.
Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.
So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.
The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.
["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]
["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]
["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]
Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.
["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]
["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]
["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]
What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?
Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?
You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.
Now Dick definitely felt awful.
However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.
["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]
Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.
You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.
Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.
The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.
He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.
Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.
The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.
How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.
With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.
Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.
You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?
Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.
Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.
It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.
With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.
"I hope I see one of them."
Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.
What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.
"I hope the audience enjoys it."
His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.
Finally, he noticed the date and paused.
That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?
If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?
...
Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.
"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.
Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.
"About a week ago, why?"
Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.
"Have you seen Y/n around?"
Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.
"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"
"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.
"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.
"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"
To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.
Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.
Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.
As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.
Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.
Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.
Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.
"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"
"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.
The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.
"No... why?"
Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"
Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.
"When was the last time you saw them?"
"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.
"Jason."
"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"
Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.
"Dick hasn't seen them either."
"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"
"I haven't seen them."
"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?
"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.
"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.
"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"
"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"
"... What."
Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...
"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...
... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?
Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...
Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.
Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.
Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.
Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-
["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]
Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.
So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.
Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"
When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?
You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.
You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.
[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]
A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.
["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]
Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.
[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]
["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]
[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]
[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]
["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]
["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]
From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.
Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.
Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.
... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.
He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.
Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.
It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.
Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.
.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.
["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]
[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]
[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]
[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]
After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.
Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.
Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.
Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.
He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.
He had to find you. Now.
Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.
Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-
["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]
Wait... was that your voice?
Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.
["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]
Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?
[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]
The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.
Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.
["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]
["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]
["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]
It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.
Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.
She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.
Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.
This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?
That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?
... She wasn't sure.
["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]
[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]
["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]
[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]
The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.
Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?
The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.
She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.
She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.
Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.
Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.
Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.
Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.
While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.
Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.
The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.
Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.
In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.
All because of you.
---------
You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.
Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.
Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.
It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.
You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.
This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.
Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.
So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.
A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.
The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.
So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.
–––––
Well, that's long, isn't it?
Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.
Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.
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justhereforthemeta · 8 months
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Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight
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Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)
This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!
On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.
@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.
Continued below the cut...
Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.
Shax: “You’re in trouble”
A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”
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Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.
And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.
There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.
1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).
Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:
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Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:
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And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.
There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball. 
Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.
Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.
For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.
So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.
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Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.
But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.
Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché. 
Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. 
And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.
In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.
My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:
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is actually this:
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Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967: 
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whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:
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…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:
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That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once. 
Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat. 
Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).
Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.
Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution. 
Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.
‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!? 
I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.
(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)
When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.
From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.
This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.
In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.
Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save. 
“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”
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hellvcifer · 16 days
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ANGEL SUPPORT SERVICES—
pairing; lucifer x fem!angel!reader (?), slight adam x fem!angel!reader (?) i don't know yet. still developing ideas atp wc; 2.9k note; yeah i really don't know where this story will go but it's been stuck in my head for a bit. hope you enjoy!! and let me know who the pairing should be bcs i can't decide lol !!
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“Hello!” Charlie peeked around the door, eyes glancing side-to-side as she took in the decor. Various whites and golds fancily accentuated the interior of the Embassy. She walked in further, noting the long pathway, surrounded by empty seating, all leading up to a desk in the distance. “Hello?” Her soft voice echoed with the sound of her footsteps. “Helloo~o…? Cre~epy…” Her face scrunched, shoulders curling in as she got closer to the lone desk.
She approached, not knowing what else to do. This being her first time at the Heaven Embassy and all. A solid gold bell was centered on the white porcelain, embellished with fanciful design and begging someone to ring it. Charlie stared at it for a moment before her hand slapped the top of it. The emitted chime was soft and held out the delightful sound. 
A bright flash of light emitted from behind the desk, swirls of golden flowers and sparkling light appearing and growing bigger before revealing a figure wrapped in a mass of feathers. They shuffled a bit and spread out widely to reveal the back of the owner. 
“Oh!” You turned around, eyes widening upon seeing the guest. “Welcome to the Heaven Embassy!” You smiled brightly, arms held out to gesture to the place. “I'm with Angel Support Services, you can call me Y/N, how can I help you?” 
“Oh, uh Hi! I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar.” The girl returned your energy, eyes attentive. “So nice to meet you! I’m here for a meeting with, uh, Heaven.” She explained.
“Right!” Your eyes scanned her quickly, “I heard they were sending someone… new.” You giggled.
“Yes! I’m here filling in for my father, of course, I’m sure you know that but I really wanted to present my new idea about rehabbing sinners and the–”
“Rehabbing sinners?” Your eyes widened, lips curling in. Hand covered your mouth. 
“I know right! Just the best solution to our problem! It may sound a little crazy but I’ve compiled an entire speech–”
“That is… A great idea.” You interrupted her, swallowing down your laughter. Oh, he is gonna eat her alive. “I’m sure they would love to hear it.” Your hands flourished in the air and a pen appeared in one while a scroll in the other. The glow on them shined as you set the paper in front of the girl. “Please sign in here.”
“Oh, Okay!” She grabbed the pen, “I'm super happy to be here! It’s so nice to meet with such friendly people from Heaven considering the ex–Oh!” As soon as she finished signing, the items disappeared and shocked her.
“Of course, of course! We get that alot.” You continued your cheery tune as a door opened on your right. “Through there please.” You gestured in the said direction.
“Just, uh walk in then, huh?” Charlie asked.
You smirked with a nod, eyes sharpening though she seemed oblivious. “Good luck!” You waved with a twiddle of your fingers, watching her leave. “You’re gonna need it~” You spoke quietly, watching the doors shut behind her. You shook your head releasing a sigh. 
Within the next hour you remained at the desk within the Embassy, awaiting the poor girl’s exit. No doubt going on and on about her silly little rehabilitation idea. Though her confidence was thick and made you admire that.
Once a year this happened, and it was the same every time. Answer the ring, pop on down, sign in whomever was visiting, and leave. Typically it had been Lucifer. But it seems that he’s sent his daughter to do it to avoid talking with you. Ever since, well… Last time, he just didn't want to see you. You huffed, sad that you wouldn’t get the chance to talk out the incident. Not that you would even know what to say.
The doors opened, a flash of red was twirled out of it and you saw Charlie land on the floor. Papers scattered around her as she tried to stand. The unnerving guitar of Heaven’s representative rifted throughout the building. The girl stood and walked towards the closing doors. 
“Um–Wait, didn’t you–” The last thing she saw was the devious smile of Adam before she was left in darkness. The last sliver of light snuffed out. “Awh, shit!” She slammed her fist against the heavy gold.
You rested your cheek against your hand, smirk ever prominent as you watched the whole thing play out. The girl was breathing heavily, head now leaning against the cold material. “Sooo, how’d it go?” Your voice was ever cheerful, dripping with a knowing cynicality. 
Charlie groaned out in response as she began picking up the drawings she originally presented earlier. 
“Yeah, that’s what most people say after meeting Adam.” You snickered. “Heaven’s finest first man, an absolute angel.” You stood straight. “Don’t take it to heart, he’s like that to everyone~” You sang out the final word as Charlie stood, her papers neatly stacked in her arms before they disappeared. She looked up at you, seeing how your expression oozed with intent.
“You knew he would react like that?” Her tone raised, questioning your actions. 
“Oh honey,” Your brows dipped as a slight pout appeared on your lips. “It’s Adam. Everyone knows. He literally calls himself the original–”
“–Dickmaster,” You finished together. “Yeah, yeah.” Charlie added.
“See! Look at you catching on so quickly.” Your hands clasped together as you brought them to your chest. 
Charlie groaned, taking a few steps forward. “Why wouldn’t you warn me before going in there?” She didn’t seem angry as she spoke, more shocked, more frustrated than ever. “I could have prepared better, or shifted my presentation, I just–Ugh!”
“The real question is: Why wouldn’t your father? He’s met with Adam plenty of times before.” Your words made her inhale sharply, eyes widening. “Eeouh~ Daddy issues? It's okay, we all have ‘em.” Your wings opened, flapping a few times and raising you off the floor to sit on your desk. “As much as I would love to help, Sweetie, I got more important things to deal with on the up-side, so if you don’t mind.” Your arm swung out, hand presenting the exit that was in line of sight. 
Charlie huffed before walking towards the exit, hand reaching out for the handle. You smiled as she opened the door and waved at her. “Come again!” 
As the resounding slam of the door echoed throughout the chamber, that was your cue to take your own leave. With a flash of light, you appeared back into the holy grounds of Heaven. The large golden gates in your view and a familiar face standing atop of the podium. 
“Y/N! Welcome back! How was the day down below?”
“Hi Saint Peter!” You greeted him, walking down the golden path to the entrance. “Same as always, super boring!” You waved a hand, sticking your tongue out. “Anyways, I’m off to pick up the notes from the meeting. Have you seen Ella?”
“Oooh, yeah. Sera asked her to cover the greeting party for new souls today and asked me, to tell you, that you’ll have to retrieve the notes from today.”  His face seemed like he was in pain as he explained what happened to you.
Your form all but deflated at the news. “Wonderful.” You groaned out the word, watching the golden gate open. You trudged through, smiling at the post angel and waving, “Thanks, Peter!” You tried to remain cheerful, wings outspread and lifted you into the air. He returned your wave and as you left, closed the gates.
With Ella gone, her duties now shifted to you as requested by Sera. Which meant you had to go deal with the First Dick. You rolled your eyes as you flew above buildings, weaving through the other residents of Heaven until you reached Headquarters.
The area was a combination of large buildings, all placed neatly in a secure area for higher ranking angels. They were decorated with the overdone gold accents and white porcelain walls. Seriously, how did they not come up with anything a bit more original. You landed on the ground and walked into one of the higher bestowed skyscrapers, being greeted by others as you did. It didn’t take long to navigate towards the elevator and pressing the button to bring you to the right level. 
You wondered why you felt the need to complete these tasks so quickly. Perhaps to feel the relief of the day being over; the chore having been finished. Just so you can enjoy the happy days of Heaven ahead. The days of the Holy and gifted, where nothing can go wrong and everything is perfect. Not a single thing misplaced or misused. Just… Perfect.
Once you arrived, your steps chorused down the long hallway. At the very end was a giant door leading to the one you were hoping to avoid. Just before it on the left was a smaller office that you stopped in front of. You knocked twice and waited for an answer. It swung open to reveal none other than–
“Lute.” You greeted rather blandly. 
“Y/N.” Her eyes were widened but she quickly bowed her head, hand raising to her chest as she did so. “To what do I owe the honor?”
You strutted into her office, eyes looking around though uninterested in anything you saw, “Ella’s out and I need the meeting notes for my report.” You quickly turned to her. “That shouldn’t be an issue, I presume?”
She straightened, “Of course not.” She walked over to her desk, picking up the pile of papers before handing them to you. You scanned them, noting the diction used and how well they were written. Obviously not Adam’s doing. You sighed though you didn’t care if he wrote them or not. “Should I notify Adam of your arrival?”
“No! No, no.” You began walking towards the door, stepping through the threshold. “That will not be necessary. In fact, don’t even mention I stopped by, mmkay? Good. Bye-bye!” You smiled though it never fully made its way to your eyes. Your pace was fast down the hallway as you reached the elevator. Luckily no one had called it and it was still on the level.
The doors opened immediately and you entered, turning around to hit the button for the lobby. You released a heavy breath and waited for the elevator to react. As the doors began to shut, the large office at the end of the hallway began to open. 
A familiar figure stepped out, “Hey! Danger Tits! when’s that dorky chick with the–” he saw you in the small gap that remained open. His body froze, mouth opened as his thoughts halted. He watched as the panels came closer together, his lips moving to utter the only thing he could process. “Y/N?”
The doors shut as you gulped. You exhaled heavily, feeling your body release any tension you had from seeing him. What a nightmare that would have been to deal with. You’ve avoided him as much as possible within the last year. Though with both of your positions, it was inevitable you run into each other from time-to-time. Quick exits and excuses were second nature to you now.
This moment for instance, you made your escape from the building and ventured over to the main one; having passed by other coworkers and fellow angels along the way. One of the final people on your list to see was Sera to hand over your report and the notes. 
This wasn’t your ordinary day in Heaven but it was certainly the busiest out of the year. Heaven had a meeting with Hell once a year to discuss any necessary things and then it was left in the wind until the next one. It wasn’t your favorite thing to be in charge of, but then again you were rewarded nicely for it. Not to mention, it was recently adjusted that there will be meetings held twice a year now. Something about boosting morale with those below.
Considering how close the buildings were, it was fairly easy to make your way to Sera’s office. You knocked and heard a soft “Come in.” You opened the door and saw her having a cup of tea with Emily sitting next to her. The younger Seraphim grinned widely at the sight of you. 
“Oh my goodness, Y/N!” She jumped from her seat and glided over to you. “How was your day? Did you have fun visiting Hell? Did you meet anyone? Please, tell me all about it!” Her joyous attitude reminded you of the new representative put forth for Hell. Charlie.
You gently laughed as she pulled you forward. “Alright, that’s enough, Emily.” Sera called out with a calming voice, pieced with a smile and causing the girl to release her grip.
She nervously chuckled, “Sorry~”
“Welcome, Y/N.” She glanced down at the papers in your hand. “I assume that is the report from today’s meeting?” 
“As requested.” You held them up and they gently floated towards Sera before laying in her hands and disappearing into thin air. 
“Your work today is appreciated.” She bowed her head towards you. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble visiting them. Please join us.” She gestured to an empty chair at the table. 
“Not at all.” You sat, and Emily rejoined the two of you. “In fact, it was mildly entertaining this time around.”
“Oh! How exciting!” Em interjected, eyes awaiting for more information.
“As you know, Hell put forth a new representative this year.” You took a sip of the freshly poured cup of tea in front of you as you explained. “She was going on and on about rehabilitating sinners as a solution to the population problem they’re having.”
They both nearly spat out their drinks, each with an opposite expression. “That’s a great idea!” “That’s a horrible idea.” You chuckled at their different responses, spoken at once.
“But why not!” Em spoke up, “It could bring an end to the issue we’ve been dealing with for so long! Not to mention, it could bring us closer to those down in Hell–”
“Sinner Rehabilitation has no evidence of working.” Sera was quick to say, “If it were even possible, we would know about it. We must not question divine judgment.” 
“But Sera–”
“That’s enough.” Her tone was stern, ending the conversation.
You took another sip of your drink, sighing into the tense air, “I guess it’s better than the extermination.” You hummed absentmindedly.
“What?” Sera was shocked at the mention of the word, her voice coming out sharply as she stared at you with wide eyes.
You turned to her. “You know,” Your hand twirled in the air as you explained. “The proposal that Adam gave forever ago but it was denied at the high council meeting.” You casually mentioned.
“I don’t remember that.” Em’s finger found her chin as she tilted her head.
You smiled. “Waay~ before your time. It was shot down before there could even be a discussion about it.” You answered. “Anyways, I’ve gotta fly. Meeting~” You explained bluntly and rose from your seat, turning to leave. “It was nice seeing you two!”
“Y/N.” Sera called out, causing you to stop and swivel your head. “Uh,” She glanced down at Emily. “A word, before you go.” She followed you out of her office, signaling the younger to stay behind. Once the door was shut, she cleared her throat. 
“About the proposal,” She spoke quietly, calm eyes masking her shakiness. “That won’t be brought up to…” She eluded without saying. 
You laughed, dismissing her worries with a flap of your hand. “Don’t worry. Rehabilitating sinners? Like they would be on board with that, am I right?”
Sera tried to join in, though she cleared her throat, “And… about the other one.” 
“Other one?” You questioned before realizing. “Oh~ The extermination?” You scoffed. “Yeah, no. It was relayed a long time ago when it was initially discussed. No use in bringing up the past. It was declined for a reason.” You squinted at her. “Unless there’s something I should know about…” 
“No! No, of course not.” She held a hand up, closing her eyes with a soft smile. “I just wanted to make sure all things are transparent between us and them.”
You instantly shifted, grinning at her answer. “Great! See you around.” You walked off though an uneasy feeling remained within your stomach. 
Quickly, you made your way over to your own office, popping through the door and shutting it. Now, you waited. It was bound to happen soon, it always did after a meeting at the Embassy occurred. 
You were chosen, hand picked as they admitted. And though the honor was bestowed upon you in all its glory, the burden you felt took its toll on you. As much as you felt gifted for being picked, there was no relief to the loneliness you felt in your position. 
The gold necklace you wore began to glow, humming loudly as the light grew brighter by the second. It was starting. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. A flash of white encapsulated you and you appeared into a familiar office.
A desk was placed some feet in front of you, the luxurious chair turned away from you. All you could see were the crossed legs of a sat figure, long and dainty, angled just slightly to the right. Cladded in white dress pants, he stared out the giant window that silhouette him. 
“Long time, no see…” He leaned forward, blonde hair peeking past the backrest of his chair. “Y/N.”
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likes and reblogs appreciated ♡
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piggyinthesea · 4 months
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Shoelace Theory
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would they tie your shoelaces?
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ғᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ ᴏɴᴇ ɢʀɪᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: ᴏsᴄᴀʀ ᴘɪᴀsᴛʀɪ, ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟ ʀɪᴄᴄɪᴀʀᴅᴏ, ᴄᴀʀʟᴏs sᴀɪɴᴢ, ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀsᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ, ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇs ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ, ʟᴇᴡɪs ʜᴀᴍɪʟᴛᴏɴ, ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀɪss, ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ʀᴜssᴇʟʟ, ᴘɪᴇʀʀᴇ ɢᴀsʟʏ, ʏᴜᴋɪ ᴛsᴜɴᴏᴅᴀ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ғʟᴜғғ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ʀᴜᴅᴇɴᴇss
inspired by orange peel theory
Oscar Piastri:
What? No. You could tie your own shoes. He’s not gonna stop what he’s doing to kneel down and tie your shoes.
“But why?!” You groan, following him around the paddock with your shoes untied. Almost suddenly, you trip. If it wasn’t for Oscar swiftly catching you, you would’ve ate shit.
He begrudgingly kneels down, tying your shoes. “Next time, I won’t tie your shoelaces.”
It was a lie. He did tie your shoelaces the next time.
Daniel Ricciardo:
He’s in the middle of entering his racing car when you ask him does. He looks at you puzzled but then quickly kneels down and ties them. It didn’t surprise you though, his kids must ask him all the time.
You wished him good luck before being ushered out of the garage. After the race, he comes to you with his shoes untied.
“Can you tie them for me?”
Will be salty if you don’t tie them for him
Carlos Sainz:
You asked him in the post-interviews, shamelessly interrupting. He stammers, “Could you excuse me one moment?”. At first you thought he was asking you to excuse him, until he quickly kneels down and ties your shoelaces, giving a small smile as he looks up at you.
He gets back up, mindlessly running his hand through his hair.
“What’d you think of the race?”, Carlos asks you.
“Great results! Proud of you.” You quip, raising your hands and offering a high five in which he quickly reciprocates. He watches you walk away, until he’s knocked out of his trance by the interviewer he had forgotten was still standing in front of him.
Safe to say Carlos is not so great at hiding his little crush on you.
Max Verstappen:
You catch him lacking in the Red Bull garage, and his face falls as soon as he sees you. You were the grid’s prankster and your go-to victim was always Max.
“Leave me alone, please!” He feigns fear, holding his hands up while guarding his face. He flinches when you’re in front of him, leaving you with guilt for all those pranks you’ve played on max. You had the poor boy traumatized.
“Tie my shoestrings, pretty please!” Your words came out innocent. Max looked at you as if you had grown two heads.
Suddenly he stands up, raising a fist towards you, “Get out of here!”. Of course he wasn’t actually going to punch you, he was just pranking you back.
You clench a paper-ball in your back pocket. You slowly pull it out, and instantly throw it at him. You make a run for the door, and frantically start screaming “Help!” as you hear a pair of monster feet stomping behind you.
Charles Leclerc:
He had always been nice to you. Your conversations with him had always been friendly and extremely normal. So of course, when you asked he did it. No questions asked.
The two of you continue your conversation and end up splitting ways shortly after. A few days later, he came to you with a box of converse shoes, in your size.
“So you don’t have to ask people to constantly tie your shoes.” Charles stands by as he watches you open the box, a cute smile placed on his face. He had bought you strap on shoes. He genuinely thought you didn’t know how to tie your shoes.
You did develop a little crush on him because of this.
Lewis Hamilton:
No. He avoids you at all costs. Word had gotten around on the grid about you and your shoelaces. He refused to take part of this tomfoolery and when you asked him all he did was look straight in your eyes.
He stared at you silently. A few moments pass, and suddenly he books it and runs out of the Mercedes garage and leaves you there.
That man runs INCREDIBLY fast.
Lando Noriss:
He was waiting for you to ask him and nearly sheds a tear when you do. This boy feels incredibly honored tying your shoes.
“Why yes, Madam, I will tie your shoes.”
He definitely feels included and takes it as some sort of badge of honor being included in your pranks. He goes around telling everyone about how you asked him to tie your shoes but then he finds out how many people have already tied your shoes. He was under the impression it was only Max and Oscar who had tied your shoes already but when he found out Lewis, Carlos, Charles, and Daniel had already tied your shoes before him, he felt BETRAYED.
This man ignores you for three whole days because of how late he was included. You make it up for him by doing the one thing he loved, including him in pranks. He takes it extremely well when you surprise him by shoving a face in his cake randomly and sprinting away. He laughs and begins speaking terms with you again.
George Russell:
George Russell noticed your shoes. They weren’t regular ones, these were the strap on converse Charles had gotten you. It’s funny really, because somehow they still ended up unstrapped. How was that even possible? Wasn’t the strap made of Velcro or something?
Though there’s no possible way you could hurt yourself by having unstrapped shoes. He watches you for 10 minutes, engaging in conversations with Charles. He hyperfixates on that unstrapped shoe like it’s the end of the world. It irks him to no end.
Maybe it was an ocd thing, but he completely stops the conversation you and Charles had, to stick your strap onto the sticky part of the velcro.
“Your shoe wasn’t strapped.”
Pierre Gasly:
You CAN’T find him. It’s like he completely disappeared from the face of the world, and it sucks because this time you wore your regular laced shoes for the purpose of getting him to tie them.
I mean, he had to turn up at some point, for racing season. The day you finally saw him was during qualifying. Pierre was being interviewed and you took this as your opportunity to sneak up on him.
“Pierre, can you tie-”
“No. So anyways-”
Pierre completely shuts you down, and engages in the interviewers conversation. The interviewer gave you an awkward side-eye, luckily, Max overheard him and quickly runs to the rescue as your partner in crime.
He grabs a firm grip on Pierre’s neck from behind, “Mate, you’re gonna have to tie her shoes.” He adds slight pressure, enough for Pierre to oblige, but not enough to catch a case or a fine from the FIA.
Pierre kneels down with Max’s hand still on his neck and obediently ties your shoestrings. Max lets go of his hold on Pierre once he ties them, and gives you a high five ‘mission accomplished’ style.
Yuki Tsunoda:
Nope. Not unless you tie his shoes. He hears none of your complains and refuses to tie your shoes unless he gets something in return. Honestly, give him a piece of candy and he’ll do it. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn.
Why won’t he just tie your shoes? Totally not cool. What if you trip, hit your head, and end up in a coma for ten years? It would be entirely his fault.
You fill his mind with all these over exaggerated ways on how you could die by not having him tie your shoelaces. It doesn’t work on him and so you leave him be & angrily huff out the room. He finds himself rethinking all the ways you’ve stated you could have possible died. It’s kind of realistic falling and hitting your head ultimately ending with you in a coma. He begins to spiral and before he knows it his anxiety has taken over his mind. He sets out to look for you, walking into various empty rooms and starts searching even more frantically.
What if you’re already on the floor unconscious??
He whips open the ferrari’s garage door and finds you talking to one of the mechanic’s you made friends with. He looks down at your shoelaces, still untied. He rushes over, double knotting your laces and letting out a sigh of relief before leaving you confused.
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neiveel3llson · 20 days
Text
Obey Me! Incorrect quotes
Diavolo trying to convince MC to continue being the babysitter:
NB Diavolo: "What are you talking about MC? You love it here!"
NB MC: "I'm not sure I do, I think I've just developed Stockholm syndrome."
Solomon being an old ass man:
NB Solomon: "The dinosaurs didn’t rule the earth they were just alive. Stop giving them credit for administration skills they didn’t have."
Satan for no reason at all:
NB Mammon: "Do I sound smart, or am I smart? "
NB Satan: "You sound unbearable, to be perfectly honest."
Leviathan being depressed:
NB Lucifer: "How are you today?"
NB Leviathan: "Please don’t make me think about my life."
Beelzebub being.. Beelzebub:
NB Beelzebub: "My stomach growled super loud in French."
NB Beelzebub: "I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class."
NB Leviathan: "Bonjour."
NB MC: "Le growl."
NB Mammon: "Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette."
NB MC now that they're a demon:
NB MC: "I am literally evil incarnate."
NB MC: "I’m not actually, I just enjoy being evil."
NB MC: "Which I think actually makes it even more evil because I’m making a conscious effort."
Solomon can't cook:
NB Solomon: "I truly go into househusband mode when I'm someone's soulhousemate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning."
NB MC: "This is a lie."
NB MC: "I'm literally living with him. This is a lie."
NB MC: "HE DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS."
MC just wants to go home:
NB Solomon: "I think I'm falling for you."
NB MC: "Then get up."
Levi is sick of Satan:
NB Leviathan: "Satan is okay."
NB Beelzebub: "He's okay? He said he was going to break my legs! And don't tell me he didn't mean it, okay?! 'Cause he gave me the mackerel eyes, he meant it!"
NB Leviathan: "Beel, Satan threatened me. He threatens Lucifer every day. He probably threatened Diavolo before breakfast this morning. It's what he does. Grow a pair."
Levi self-deprocating:
NB MC: "I'm going the fight the next person who insults Levi."
NB Leviathan: "I hate myself."
NB MC: "Alright, square up."
When MC first came:
NB MC, referring to NB Mammon and NB Diavolo: "Those guys are dorks."
NB Lucifer: "Yes, but they’re my dorks."
Belphegor annoying Lucifer on purpose:
NB Belphegor: "Lucifer, we have a visitor."
NB Lucifer: "Don't tell me it's our babysitter.."
NB Belphegor: "It's MC."
Lucifer being sick of Mammon's shit:
Lucifer: "The greatest trick the diavolo's father ever pulled was changing his name to Mammon."
Mammon bc he's my fav pookie:
Mammon: "So... what would you do if you were in bed with me?"
MC: "Depends. Is your bed comfortable?"
Mammon: "Yes."
MC: "I'd sleep."
Thirteen is going insane:
Thirteen: "Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time."
Diavolo is far too concerned:
*after discussing a plan*
Barbatos: "Does anyone have any questions?"
Diavolo: "Is this legal?"
Barbatos: "Does anyone have any relevant questions?"
Satan loves to boast:
Satan: "I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight."
MC: "What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?"
Satan, already taking off his clothes: "God, MC, you’re so fucking stupid."
It probably wouldn't work anyways:
MC: "Here’s the cold medicine you asked for." *dumps 3 shopping bags of wine on the table*
Thirteen: "...Thanks."
Levi and Garfield:
Leviathan: "I once tried to play a pirated copy of Garfield Kart, when Garfield jumped out of my PC! We are currently married with three beautiful children and a summer room in the basement of HOL with Cerberus."
Math doesn't work:
MC: "Which is correct, seven and five is thirteen, or seven and five are thirteen?"
Thirteen: "Niether."
Thirteen: "Because it's twelve."
Venomous or poisonous?:
Lucifer: "If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous."
Mammon: "What if it bites me and it dies?!"
Lucifer: "Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Mammon, learn to listen."
Diavolo: "What if it bites itself and I die?"
Lucifer: "That's voodoo."
MC: "What if it bites me and someone else dies?"
Lucifer: "That's correlation, not causation."
Asmodeus: "What if we bite each other and neither of us die?"
Solomon: "That's kinky."
Barbatos: "Oh my goodness."
:P done
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the-whispers-of-death · 2 months
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You know that pretend to be my boyfriend trope where one character tells their family that they're dating in order to get the family to back off about them being single and now they need a pretend boyfriend? Yeah, imagine that, with Gaz.
Despite being a soldier, your family is hounding you for being single. As if you have time to get a partner. But you can't handle the questions about when you'll finally be taken, so you tell them that you're dating.
Your family is ecstatic, and they keep asking questions about your partner and since you've been around only your squad, the 141, you tell them that your boyfriend is a soldier like you. And you tell them the appeasing shit, how your boyfriend's so sweet and just amazing. That you can see a future with them.
And you think that's the end of it and after your leave is over, you head back to the base. Months pass by, you give your family vague details about how your life is going with your "boyfriend" and then you get into deep trouble when they basically trick you into saying you'd bring your boyfriend to the Thanksgiving dinner your family has every year.
So now you have to try and see which of the 141 will pretend to be your boyfriend, and you decide on Gaz. Mostly because he's your best friend, but also because he fits the description of your fake boyfriend's personality that you gave your family.
One day, you and Gaz are sitting next to each other in the recreational room and you decide now would be the perfect time to ask him to be your pretend boyfriend.
"Hey, Gaz. I have a favor to ask you," you say, looking up from your book to look at him nervously. You hope and pray that he'll say yes to your favor.
Gaz raises his eyebrow, having never seen you so nervous before. You were usually so composed. "What is it? Did you accidentally kill a soldier during training and then hid the body? I'll go MIA with you," he replies, half-joking.
You laugh and smile, your nerves eased so easily as is always the case with Gaz. "No, but good to know you'd still be my friend if I accidentally killed a soldier." You take a deep breath before continuing, "I told my family that I was dating someone, a fellow soldier. And now they've tricked me into saying I'll bring my boyfriend to the Thanksgiving dinner."
"{Name}, are you asking me to be your pretend boyfriend?" Gaz asks, cheeky and flattered that you asked him for the ruse. It makes him roll his shoulder back so his posture is straighter. "You can count of me, mate. You know I always got your back. So what have you told them about me, then? We'll need to keep our stories straight."
You two spend the rest of the day, developing this story further. And as the day wears on, you realize just how lucky you are to have a friend like him.
Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)
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kteezy997 · 2 months
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The Emperor's Wife: Part Two// Paul Atreides
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Warnings: explicit smut, virgin reader, cursing, oral sex female and male receiving, getting caught having sex
18+ readers only!!
You took Paul's hands, leading him over to the bed.
He went with you compliantly, but his breathing quickened, he pursed his lips.
You sat on the bed once again, looking up at your man. "Make love to me, Paul Atreides. I know that it is not my place to carry an heir, but the purpose here is love."
He put his hands on your face, cupping your chin. He brought his lips down upon yours, so sweetly this time. Gently, he pushed you on to your back.
You noticed a spark of desire develop between your legs. It was almost like a shock, making you tremble.
Paul pulled the remainder of the still suit off his body, then came down his underwear. His cock looked massive, even though he was only semi-erect.
You licked your lips nervously. He started to climb onto you. This was it. You put your hands on his arms, and he kissed you again. You felt his weight on your body as he pressed his hips against you. His lips met your collarbone, then his teeth traced a tender line down to the joint of your breasts. He kissed them with warm, wet lips, and cupped them in his large hands.
He opened his mouth around your nipple, letting his lips wrap around it, making you writhe in pleasure. He groaned softly, suckling your tit into his mouth. He toyed with the bud in his mouth, then licked it before nibbling on your other nipple. You held the back of his head, letting your fingers tangle into his hair as he sucked eagerly, hungrily on your breast.
He pulled away, saying lowly and nearly out of breath, "The last time I bedded Chani, I thought of you, and I came harder than I ever have before." he resumed kissing your face, trickling his lips down your neck, as if his words hadn’t rattled your entire being.
It was as if lightning struck your veins with his admission. You couldn't believe it. You feel the thumping of your blood as it ran through your body. You softly grinded against him, desperate as hell to have him, finally. Your wetness coated your panties.
Paul undressed you, and kissed your leg, from your ankle to your inner thigh. With his face just above where you needed him to be the most, his blue-blue eyes snapping up at you as he had a smirk on his face.
It was a relief to have his mouth on your burning heat. He licked your clit over and over, circling his tongue as well. You reacted by bucking your hips against his face and held you by your thighs. You moaned like a mad woman, reaching down to tug on your husband's curls.
You decided to admit something as well, "I've had many dreams of your warm, wet tongue on my clit. I’ve wanted this with you for so long." you panted.
With a soft huff of a breath, he parted from your pussy, "Now we can have it, wife." he grinned, getting on top of you again to catch your lips in a kiss. He held your head, combing his fingers through your hair.
You kissed him firmly, holding him as tightly to your body as you could muster. You touched his cheek, looking up at him.
He pushed your legs apart, thrusting his hips between them. He used his hand to slide his member into you. He took your wrists and held them at your sides as you could feel him bust through your hymen.
You cried out in pain, closing your eyes, clenching your entire face up. You inadvertently squeezed him with your legs.
Paul held your wrists down, but slowly pulled out of you, "Your first time, I didn't even think of it. I'm so sorry." his tone was etched with worry as he touched your face and petted your hair.
"No," you took a breath, "I want this. Please, hold me down, fuck me. I am yours." You used your free hand to pull him down into kiss.
"You're sure?" he asked, touching his forehead to yours, letting your brand of sweat mix with his.
"Yes. Please continue." you begged, pecking his lips.
He gave you a nod, then grabbed your hand, binding it in his fist as he had done with your other one, and rutted into you slowly.
You let the pain ride out, and then it felt really good. You felt a tear escape from your eyes, which Paul noticed and licked away in an instant.
It was better than you had fantasized about. He was incredible as a lover. He used his brute strength to rock his hips into you and move your whole body. His cock carved in and out roughly, but it felt so good.
"Do you still love me?" Paul asked you, in between his animalistic thrusts, "Even though it hurt at first?"
"Mm," you moaned as he freed your wrists after clutching them his grasp for several minutes, "I still love you."
Paul then growled lowly in his throat, quickening his thrusts but making them shallower.
You marveled at the tightness of his abdominal and chest muscles as he pushed on your stomach like an anchor so he could fuck you faster.
His brows furrowed and he would throw his head back in pleasure. "Your pussy feels so warm and tight around my cock. I love it." he praised in a breathy huff.
"Paul, tell me you love me." you put your hands on his arms, rubbing them.
"I love you, my beautiful wife," he leaned down to peck your lips in a wet kiss, "I love you, in the most earnest of ways." He then flattened on top of you. The warmth of his body enveloped you and he kept his hips moving as well.
The friction he created inside of you was not of this world. He was the Kwisatz Haderach, the Mahdi, Lisan al-Gaib, the Emperor of the Known Universe; Paul Atreides was everything. And here, he was proving it. He had the most tender way of making love, but he also fucked your brains out almost in the same instant. He was switching angles to fuck you deeper, switching positions just to please you. He was so attentive and observant, like a strong ruler of people should be.
You each had an orgasm and dropped down on the bed in a heap of exhaustion and sweat. You curled up to your husband, laying your head on his chest. You rested there for a while together.
Paul ran his fingers lazily through your hair, and trickled his fingertips down your arm. You felt so cozy and comfortable with him. But you weren't ready for the escapade to end just yet.
You sat up and moved down to touch his cock. You wet your fingers with your tongue, and ran them along the length of him, looking up at his face.
Paul smiled at your actions, then relaxed against the pillow at his head.
You licked your lips, moistening them and then put your mouth on his cock. You tasted the tip, licking and swirling your tongue around it. After a moment, you felt his hand on the back of your head. You let him push his cock past your lips and into your mouth.
Paul put his hand more firmly on your head, guiding you gently back and forth on his cock.
You slurped and licked and sucked until you really got into the rhythm of it and Paul started to buck his hips upward a bit. It was so satisfying to please him. His cock felt amazing as it invaded your mouth.
He changed the pace after a moment and held your head in place and rammed your throat. You couldn’t get away from his cock, not that you even wanted to. He cursed, and moaned out your name as he fucked your mouth.
You kind of liked being used by him.
He let go of your head, and you took his hard cock in your hands using your spit to stroke him. You watched him bite his lip and clench his eyes shut in pleasure as you pumped your hands on his slippery length.
As he got more and more flushed with color, the more he panted for you, and the more you wanted to feel his cock stretch you again. You climbed onto him, straddling his waist.
He put his hands on your hips, helping you keep steady as you sunk down on his cock. He moaned as you took him completely.
You started to rock your hips back and forth, allowing his cock to explore your pussy. As he opened you up, you gasped and moaned, and put your hands on his chest.
Paul tucked your hair behind your ear and held your jaw. With his mouth agape, he looked up at you as if you were a goddess.
"What is this?" came Chani's voice from behind you.
You were startled, you were so caught up in the moment, you hadn't even heard her footsteps. You rolled over off of Paul instantly.
"Chani...I love her." he declared to his concubine, "But this does not change the love I have for you, not at all."
"I knew that this would happen. I knew it. But I cannot shame you, Usul. I want you to be as happy as you can be." Chani came over to the bed where Paul was sitting on the edge of it, "I don't want to lose you." she put her hands in his hair, dotingly.
He took her hands, "You will never lose me." he kissed her hand, then looked over at you.
You were able to breathe easier when you felt his warm gaze on you. You smiled at him.
Paul matched your grin, and took your hand as well, saying, "I can share this love with my two wives."
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen
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sun-pluto · 11 months
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The Ascendant
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(Please do not plagiarise, copy, or repost my work. Thank you.)
It’s funny how I made a post about the 7th house first before a rising sign post, but to be honest I wanted to flesh out how every house can be relatable before going to the heart and drive of it all. And what better example than the 7th house which is supposedly your opposite? Well now we know it’s not and can actually be what you show and how you interact on a regular basis.
Now though, I want to talk about your motivations, which is the first house, or namely ascendant. I understand that the ascendant rules first impressions and appearance, also your personality. But I also think the first house drives you, it’s your heart, the reason why you continue to trudge forward in life. To make this more fun, I’m adding what the signs represent in tarot cards to add that extra depth, since a lot of stereotypes make all the signs seem a lot shallower than they are. So anyway let’s get started!
*side note, if the majority of your first house falls in a sign other than your ascendant, feel free to read that sign’s description too. Placidus housing adds nuance to your expression of the ascendant I find.
Aries Ascendant
If someone has to go first, I understand it will be me. ~ The Emperor
Fiery? Yes. Driven and direct? Also yes. Or at least it is a natural part of them to find a goal and immediately work towards it with no fuss or beating about the bush. Although known as the “youngest” of the zodiac as they signify spring, I’ve found many of these risings possess a very mature, headstrong attitude. They’re usually cheerful and actually pretty easygoing rather than just their short-tempered stereotype, although they certainly can be. What I have found cool about this placement though, is it easily makes people experienced in a lot of situations. Their life has set them up for them to lead and be the first to do something, and whatever placement they have, they experience it to the fullest via trial and error. Hence, it is both a burden and a source for excitement— it makes sense for them to be wise and discerning, and to recognise value in each aspect of their lives over time. To have your chart ruled by The Emperor in tarot, and having Mars as your chart ruler, makes for pretty chaotic and extreme life experiences. People often like to show only the extreme and violent aspects of Mars, because it’s dramatic and flashy. It’s proven here when Aries risings go out of their way to show off their power and hide their insecurities, as they can embody both the healthy and unhealthy masculine ego. They can also be surprisingly pessimistic, thinking their dreams are only a fantasy and yet are also angered by this (Pisces 12th house). When mature however, they make incredibly wise and capable leaders. The Emperor is known for being masculine, go-getting and authoritative while knowing his power is used to uplift and protect those around him, and Aries risings can be a prime example of that. Literally fire and cardinal modality packs an extreme punch and they’re often noticed wherever they go, purely because of the way they carry themselves. They’re often steadfast in their pursuit of things and even when they’re fast, they’re consistent, hence debunking the stereotype that they can be flaky. Lots of extreme experiences develop them into very skilled beings, and they often possess a lot of insight and depth that few can reach in subjects and topics they take an interest in, because to them, it’s go big or go home. Extremely passionate and unstoppable, over time they learn to control this fire within them to go for the things they want, because in the end, they do not need limits, only direction. 
The people I know who are Aries Risings are sure footed, determined people. You just have to look at the way they treat others (Libra 7th house) to realise they do want harmony in their environment, even when some do like  drama and chaos as air signs do. They are extremely loyal and loving to their family and friends (Cancer IC) even to their detriment, especially if mars, saturn, uranus or pluto is in their 4th house. They are always trying to look at the bigger picture, the higher perspective in order to make the best decision for themselves and others. They are a bit hypocritical in worrying and nagging their loved ones to take care of themselves, while neglecting their own health in the process. The ones I know can also be deathly afraid of vulnerability and highly controlling, because they know how sensitive and soft they actually are. You guys need to take care of yourselves more, and not just do things in extremes. Some who I know with Aries Risings can easily sleep all day, and then stay up for the next 24 hours. They do crave and try to incorporate balance in their life, and when they actually do, not a lot of things can stand in their way. They are ultimately very determined people holding the fort for everyone, and people really need to see this side of them more.
Taurus Ascendant
Here’s why we need to think and set a foundation first. ~ The Hierophant
The bull of the zodiac, they are powerful people, and we’re fortunate they normally choose peace. They can be stubborn, sure, but it means they can be unstoppable in achieving whatever they set their minds to. They are about setting traditions and foundations, and it doesn’t have to be outdated. They can be real trendsetters and pioneers on things that can outlive them (Aquarius 10th House). They represent the raw, earthy side of beauty and abundance, and they often know how to treat themselves well and can have tailored tastes and preferences. I know for a fact that they are very loving and loyal to their loved ones and family, and the way they move through the world can be surprisingly fast and very efficient. In tarot, they are represented by the Hierophant, which is all about setting down stable foundations, rules, beliefs and following through with them. They can be extremely driven to help those suffering (Scorpio Descendant), and the structure they create can really bring progression and healing. However, this level of abundance and stability can unfortunately also bring hubris, arrogance, ignorance and stagnation if they do not keep themselves in check. Their tendency to hold their emotions in an iron fist could also make for a violent, explosive temper. When they do not possess direction, they can easily succumb to indulging their senses and material world to fill up emptiness. At the same time, as said previously, they have the most potential to be abundant internally and externally. The Hierophant knows who he is and sets the rules for people to follow, and Taurus Risings embody that. They have the ability to subvert tradition and set down new rules that benefit others, because they have the groundedness and practicality, as well as an intuitive and resourceful mind. This inner fire makes them extremely devoted to their loved ones, their own ideas, and their causes. They can be extremely empathetic and generous to those in need, and can really lead others with grace and inner knowledge that draws admiration from others. Besides being beautiful, they are pioneers with no label, because once they know what they want, not a lot of things can change their mind, and success? It’s almost guaranteed with Venus as their chart ruler. 
The ones I know with this rising are so, so caring. They definitely know some things about love that others can’t seem to grasp, such as devotion, responsibility, and respect. And it doesn’t have to be romantic love, these people don’t discriminate with their friends, family, or even colleagues at work. Although I know some people with this rising who can be ignorant, apathetic and  self-serving, I can safely say even these same people care a lot about setting a stable foundation for themselves and their loved ones to grow on. With Scorpio in the 7th house, I’ve already already talked about their craving for intensity and stimulation— they are very easily adrenaline junkies— but this could be done in extremes and they could end up with unhealthy coping mechanisms. However, they’re also incredibly savvy and almost slick with their words, and with Scorpio in the 7th house, they can be incredibly mesmerising. Overall, most I know are just really powerful and passionate people, devoted to their own people and causes. They know what it takes to get the wheels rolling, and their level of determination is solid and awe-inspiring.
Gemini Ascendant
There’s always the other side of the coin. ~ The Lovers
Highly intelligent and insanely insightful are the first things I’ll say about people with this rising. They are extremely perceptive and incredibly nuanced in their ability to observe behaviour and mannerisms. The first of the air signs to make their appearance, they are ultimately concerned about figuring out the truth in situations, and in a way setting the foundation for the other air signs to come in. Represented by The Lovers in tarot, they understand duality in people and have the exceptional ability to accept all sides to an individual. And guess what, this makes them incredible friends and lovers. They understand flaws make people human, and they themselves are very intimate with their own perceived weaknesses and shortcomings. Depending on how they express this, they’re either extremely accepting and authentic with themselves and others, or they can be strict and sometimes judgemental. Most though, have the discernment to use both depending on the situation. However I will say these people can be pretty erudite and snobbish if they are unaware of their pride and ego. Additionally, the flighty air sign stereotype is shown the easiest with this rising, because they see options and opportunities, but they may not have security in themselves to follow through. A lot of their perceived stability and self-esteem can come from their loved ones, but in general, they’re just very caring and observant towards the people they love. Ruled by Mercury, they are playful but can surprisingly be wild and even rough with their play. To be honest, they often surprise others with how they can turn soft to aggressive in a snap, but when you understand complexity in a person, as they do, it is an obvious route. They love exploring both sides to a situation, as they themselves embody duality and two sides of a coin. At their depths they would like to find completion in themselves, to not feel so scattered or fragmented, but instead understood and seen as a whole. I would go so far to say they wish to be seen and accepted just as how they see and accept others so easily. Ambitious and often holding higher ideals, I’ve noticed they hold principles dear to them that they follow groundedly (Cancer 2nd house, Virgo 4th house). They are logical, adaptable people who, in the end, care very much about what impact they make on others. The ability to make the most out of any situation is their ace card, and boy can they give anyone a run for their money.
People I know with this are so sweet they make my teeth ache. Like YES, can kill you with their words. YES, incredibly talented and resourceful. Also yes, they are hardworking and can often find a niche they top the field in. But damn they are so caring. Very funny people with sometimes a sly or darker sense of humour, but honestly they’re just multifaceted. They make amazing detectives or people to go with to an escape room. They really try their best for their loved ones, I cannot emphasise this enough. They can jump between impulses and indecision, but ultimately what comes through is how it will affect their inner circle. Which is why it’s incredibly important that these people carefully select the people they allow into their home or their found family. I have not met people with this rising who are irresponsible, although there is potential (as with everyone). Instead, I know people with this who worry a lot and overthink about their decisions, their career, their life etc. which is why it’s extremely important for them to ground themselves (Virgo 4th house, Taurus 12th house). That is how they can heal and feel whole. Overall, their ability to think out of any situation and tease out the truth is a gift, and they shine with how much intelligence they hold that benefits themselves and their loved ones.
Cancer Ascendant
I’m here to follow my passion. ~ The Chariot
Firstly, they’re normally extremely good at putting themselves in other people’s shoes. Much like Gemini in the way they easily perceive people’s dual nature and complexity, but unlike Gemini, others perceive Cancer Risings to be softer and more forgiving, which is often a rushed assumption. Rather than just studying and probing a person’s nature, Cancer Risings intend to wield this to protect and serve their loved ones and themselves. This is why they’re often underestimated, because they’re soft and caring while still wielding resourcefulness and strategy to keep them and their loved ones safe— even thriving in their environment. You do not really know a Cancer Rising unless they allow you to. They’re elusive yet empathetic, firm yet graceful with their manners and boundaries. They are surprisingly bold with their style and can come across as very direct with Aries in the 10th and Leo in the 2nd. They are aware of how they want their environment to be like and they’re really good at setting up a foundation for themselves by literally tranquilising/eliminating anything jarring or disharmonious to them. These people are built to understand social structure and navigate through them (Capricorn DSC) while also sometimes exhibiting a rougher, wilder quality as you get to know them (Aries Midheaven). Symbolised by The Chariot in tarot, if there’s one thing a Cancer Rising knows in their soul, it is what they want. They are extremely connected to their heart space and can be very passionate and bull-headed with their goals. They are ruled by the Moon after all. These are the people whose intuition is like a compass— it points them to the right direction and signals to them when something/someone is awry. However, I have also observed some chasing their goals recklessly, going after the things they want or siding a group without thought if that helps with their agenda. In a distorted viewpoint, they can actually become selfish and cutthroat, seeing people in hierarchies/categories and coldly putting people down under the guise of protecting their circle and resources when it is mainly to serve their ego. However, at their best, they work through their Capricorn Descendant, and they’re extremely strong, regal, empathetic, and caring, and a light to those around them. They wish to bring understanding and insight into the world (Gemini 12th house) and so they often pursue passions that bring unique insights and perspectives as well as aligning with their own heart. Overall, they take charge and follow their heart, much like a shooting star, and it is a great gift they bring for others as well.
Guys. We’re all sleeping on Cancer Risings. They’re literally one of the most secretly successful rising signs out there. They build their base shaped best to their individual needs down to its core and then silently help those around them. Why do you think they are overly simplified as the mom friend? They’re literally guardians in every sense of the word, they hold their own down strong enough to help others struggling. If there’s one thing about them it’s that they’re always abundant in the space they’ve built for themselves. You would be lucky to experience that abundance if they decide to share it with you. I’ve once called them the captain of their own pirate ship and I stick by that, they are ambitious people who follow where their heart goes. At the truth of it, they are extremely wise for being connected to their heart, their intuitive compass, and their feelings. They like people who are strong and structured while still being open to change (Saturn-ruled 7th and 8th houses) and depending on their placements, they embody this too. Their Gemini in the 12th house actually makes them really likely to create/invent something useful in their lifetime, and why wouldn’t they, with the way they lead with passion? They illuminate the path ahead for others to follow, and they’re most likely to find a safe space for all.
Leo Ascendant
Someone has to bear the weight of the rule. ~ Strength
Being surrounded by Leo placements all my life, I’ve had the honour of knowing a few Leo Risings. Firstly, like the walking sunshine they are, they attract attention wherever they go. Their chart is literally built that way. Their Midheaven is ruled by Venus, they know how to make a good first impression with Virgo in the 2nd house and their Aquarius 7th house speaks for itself.  However, I’ve noticed a lot of them do not like being put on a pedestal, because more than ever, they wish to connect with the people around them and feel their warmth. What is underrated is their love for learning. They absolutely love acquiring knowledge about different people and cultures or any topic really (Aries 9th house), and to do so they connect with others easily and charismatically. Additionally, they bring warmth and the spotlight, and they are often incredibly generous people. They hide a super soft heart that they shield with a lion exterior— they’re not exactly cold or closed-off, but they do show off their power, skill and confidence. Ruling the Strength card in tarot, they have the capability of retaining their warm loving nature and generosity in the face of hardship and difficulties. Leo Risings often portray a softness and kind nature that was absent in their childhood (Cancer 12th house). I’ve known many who grew up in violent homes, dangerous neighbourhoods and/or in financial difficulty (Scorpio 4th house). But because they’ve constantly shifted and transformed themselves to their own top standard and beat the odds, a lot of them have this aura of majesty and yet, this lightheartedness as well. I will say though they do let their emotions get the best of them at times and may have the tendency to wallow and stay stagnant in the hole they’ve dug themselves in or their coping mechanisms or both. I also know that at their worst they tend to hide their wounds, vulnerabilities and softness, and project their confidence to extremes while throwing their weight around. This can ultimately lead to them pushing others away or being the new bully they so hated. However, much like Strength, they have the capability of taming a lion without deadening their feelings and emotions. And much like Strength, they are able to attain their goals and win the admiration of many without closing themselves off to their inner child and softness.
Leo Risings have the greatest potential to show the world how strong and magnificent they are without feeling ashamed of their wounds. Cancer in the 12th house does pack a punch, the 12th house talks of loss and the subconscious while Cancer is the protective nurturing energy we all need, especially as children. They may feel like they missed this energy in childhood, and many have learnt to stay quiet and work their way through life, while repressing their need to be cared for and paid attention to, when really, that’s all they want. They are incredibly intelligent and resourceful people who work hard and have high standards for themselves, while also retaining the bright curiosity and initiative needed to attain success. They definitely can be great leaders, however to fully be themselves without feeling drained or suffocated by people (who definitely will ask something of them), they have to learn to listen to their feelings and know to set boundaries and care for themselves. The RIGHT way, not just by suddenly pushing others away or taking more control. I feel they can benefit a lot from sitting or walking in nature and finding ways to connect to their big heart again, because honestly that’s what their loved ones love them for. Having a heart of gold is the main descriptor for this rising sign.
Virgo Ascendant
What can we improve? ~ The Hermit
I think one thing about Virgo Risings is they’re incredibly conscientious. Conscious of themselves too, they know the energetic space they take up (aka they can tell they’re the shit). They embody the saying where in order to succeed you need to know thyself. And work hard of course, which they also got in the bag. They’re incredibly generous people but they show, not tell. Which makes their craft and actions extremely valuable, they can bring incredible gifts and abilities to the table because of their astute ability to perfect and sharpen whatever skill/ability they set their minds to. Ruling the Hermit card in tarot, they are often great self-reflectors and can really piece together lessons from the past to make invaluable judgements and decisions. Although known for being perfectionistic, nitpicky or judgemental, they’re often also unfairly idolised and idealised to live up to a standard created by other people. They are expected to gruel and go through tense/difficulties in life and not complain, and when they do, their accomplishments and character get swept under the rug. Over time though, they can find the people and places who acknowledge them for who they are, because whatever they’re perfecting now, they will be noticed eventually. They almost remind me of a soldier going up the ranks, and they do this with a whole lot of strategy and intelligence. The cons with this is a kind of nihilistic, sometimes “dog-eat-dog” mindset that they have to manage, because it can overtake them and contribute to feeling depressed or hopeless in this ever changing world. They can be mysterious, but they’re usually just extremely compassionate and giving people who guard their hearts. Their minds and way of thinking is incredibly unique and is often the first thing people spot about them, because they’re often deep thinkers who can provide unique, efficient and just sharp solutions to problems others cannot solve. Also can I just say, they’re incredibly sensual people. They’re attuned to detail as well which contributes to this, but generally I’ve noticed they have a very alluring, ‘come hither’ energy that can turn very passionate and fiery quickly. But back to that, their Rising gives them the ability to reflect on issues and sharpen their skills most of all, they can go through fire and come out skilled and wiser. 
The people I know with this Rising are incredibly humourous. People don’t talk about their Sagittarius IC or Gemini Midheaven enough. They KNOW how to bargain and strategise their way through life. They often build connections and hone in on stability/security incredibly fast. Because they’re a mutable sign, they’re very flexible and adaptable to people and are normally very witty and astute in their observations. Depending on how much air they have in their chart, they’re also sometimes very straightforward and blunt, but “one man’s meat is another man’s poison,”, people who they surround themselves with will treasure that astuteness and honesty and use it to improve their lives. They can get pretty indecisive on what they want to do in life I’ve noticed, but I think it’s because they often like things that deviate from mainstream careers. Once they realise they have a gift in an area though, expect them to top that field. Nobody I know with this Rising comes out of life defeated, that’s what I will say. They always find a way out of darkness, it’s very similar to Scorpio Risings except these people just outsmart or outskill situations in the end. 
Libra Ascendant
There needs to be justice. ~ Justice
Lots of misunderstandings and conflict with this Rising. When you have your whole chart flipped and signs in opposite houses, you’re going to have a life as extreme as an Aries Rising, except this time you are meant to oppose The Emperor. This time, you’re journeying through the other side of the wall — you clearly see the other perspective, and now the responsibility of seeking justice is thrust into your hands. What do you do with it? That is the question Libra Risings will ask and answer throughout their life. These people are met with opposition at every twist and turn with Aries in the 7th house (or they create the opposition by arguing), and from a young age they are exposed to the neverending opinions and expectations of others they have to sort through. It’s almost like they sprung out of the womb as an adult, because these people are exposed to harsh reality pretty quickly, or some form of duty or obligation. Hence these Risings try to form judgements and make the best decision for everyone very early on. They are very giving and for people. Ruling the Justice card in tarot, they best embody being the judge and jury because they have a lot of extreme experiences that they can sharpen into principles, ideals, and morals. They can be very stubborn with their ideals and can hold a lot of resentment and anger if it’s not dispersed productively. Venus was, very early on, the planet of war, and this air cardinal sign embodies that with strategy, tact and grace. Their perspective is cutting and they have this uncanny ability to see the truth into things and be direct with it. And people do not often see this side of them, because they’ve learnt to show the charming, peaceful sides of their personality while working behind the scenes to bring a safer, more nurturing environment that they crave and want their loved ones to have. They understand the value of harmony/peace and this Rising is best known to have a magnetising appeal to the masses, because they understand what people want/need. However, the obvious flaws of this are that they act too much the harmoniser and balancer, that they erase their personality altogether. We all know people-pleasing or being superficial are the weaknesses of this air sign, and it can really culminate to that if these people do not set boundaries and heal from the rough start they were in (Scorpio 2nd house, Capricorn 4th house). They are in the best position to stand up for the underdog, not be a doormat. Much like how a judge's verdict is final, Libra Risings know the power they hold and can be scared of it, but once they hone this power, they hold a lot of rule and say in everything, and their judgement is invaluable.
I’m a Libra Rising, and I also know two others who have the same Rising sign. What I personally feel is people give too much credit to how emotional and charming this Rising sign is, and end up belittling or disrespecting this sign. Although they can be just as empathetic and human as others, they hold a lot of capacity to be very cerebral and impartial, sometimes to the extreme without considering the emotions of others and coming across harsh and blunt. They, like Gemini and Pisces Risings, let people see what they want to see while offering no clue to what they’re doing behind the scenes, for better or worse. At their worst, Libra Risings can be pretty amoral and bitter, leaning to the unfairness they’ve experienced rather than finding justice for themselves or others (“It’s just how the world is”). However, at their best, they embody a weapon themselves in how they deal out justice, and they can be extremely ruthless with it. They need to be able to find balance, or they will create it. Seek justice for yourself, and soon you’ll seek it for others as well. They can really be revered and adored by others for their beauty, inside and out. They care about people, their friends and loved ones, full stop. And they’re the most likely to bring change in pursuit of it.
Scorpio Ascendant
I understand the underbelly, which is why I know how to deal with it. ~ Death
Much like how Death shows up commandingly clad in armour on a horse in tarot, these people very much remind me of soldiers or generals of the zodiac. Scorpio Risings have the ability to weather through any storm, grit their teeth and emerge victorious and wiser. These people have often witnessed a lot of unfair/disadvantaged situations or been in one, and had to work their way around that. They advocate for peace and are often extremely stable and giving in relationships, and they are often loyal to a fault and honest with their dealings is what I’ve noticed. They are opportunistic in any business they’re in with Sagittarius in the 2nd house, and are optimistic people who value simplistic enjoyment in things. But much like Death in tarot, their signature is in their ability to bring change to their environment, and upend foundations and what’s not working anymore. Opposite from Taurus, who sets rules and foundations, Scorpio Rising’s 4th house in Aquarius gives them this innate ability to figure out what’s wrong with any foundational structure, and strike it down. This could be anything, from worldly issues to relationships to even why their computer isn’t working, they take the truth and wield it to something that serves them. This is why most people either become inspired by them or fear/hate them, because they have this innate ability to transmute and are known for it (Leo 10th house). Their perseverance is admirable and also terrifying because once they decide to continue towards their goals, it’s over. Just like Death, it is inevitable that they get what they commit to. However, these Risings really go through it, their life is marked by erratic changes and tower moments after all, and that’s why they can be insecure or doubtful of their abilities, or distrustful and despairing about their life’s direction. These Risings however, should know that this ability to transform and persevere through tough life situations makes them extremely powerful and wise, almost like a “once I’ve gotten through this, I can get through anything”. Death in tarot is after all, freeing of all limitations and restrictions, and these Risings have the capability to build themselves a haven after everything they’ve been through.
The people I know with this Rising just really need sleep. And lots of hugs, they need to have a good support system they can rely on when the going gets tough. These people have such an amazing gift at creativity and the arts that they themselves could underestimate, but it is definitely healing for them should they choose to practice their craft. That Libra in the 12th house? Devastating. Early on they might’ve thought peace or harmony in their lives is unreachable in some way, or they might’ve seen unhealthy conflicts or fights happen a lot in their inner circles, which is why they seek to bring it into the world somehow, subconsciously. Paradoxically, this is why they’re so good at unearthing the truth and bringing even more peace and resolution to anything they touch after destabilising it. They may be a dark horse or feel ‘other’ in some way, but in the end, they are the architects and re-constructors of our world. They match Taurus Risings with their raw level of power, and their insane level of insight into situations and people is what spurs them to do what they do best— transform. 
Sagittarius Ascendant
There’s hope! Let everyone know! ~ Temperance
I think one thing I’ve noticed about Sagittarius Risings is their zest for life. Not a lot of things get them down, even when in the Sagittarius Pluto generation, Pluto is in their first house. The ones I know are enthusiastic and driven, rambunctious and joyful. However, one thing I see but hasn’t been said is how stubborn and willing to bite the bullet they can be. They are mutable fire, and they can dither from decision to decision, however once they’ve committed to the bit, they can really pull through. The most dynamic and free-spirited of the fire signs, they are symbolised by the Temperance card in tarot. After Justice and Death, there’s a need to regain sense of oneself, to come home and regain balance and find multitudes internally and externally. With their Gemini in the 7th house, they love to communicate, explore new topics and share them with people, and are excellent debaters. They have an innate drive to pursue multiple talents and create, and who’s to stop them? Ruled by Jupiter, they embody the wise, knowledgeable and skilled traits of Jupiter, and expanding outwards as a whole. However, the downsides to this are obvious, such as biting more than one can chew or overexerting oneself, and they can share the same erudite arrogance as Gemini. These people are the ones who despair when they realise they can’t master all the skills they want to pursue. They hold a secret love to life’s mysteries and wonders, and so it’s not surprising they wish to investigate and travel in their lifetime. They can be known to relocate or at least explore often, and they have the potential to be incredibly savvy and resourceful (Saturn-ruled 2nd and 3rd houses). Just like the Temperance card, they have the potential to find true abundance and knowledge not just through exploring, but via their own intuition and inner selves. They carry their abundance and multitudes with them that inspires and awes others, and they only need to see that within. Honest and forthright, they wish to spread whatever they’ve learnt to inspire people and make an impact, and can be known as whistleblowers (in the good way). At their worst, they are fickle and yet harsh with others, insecure in themselves and critical of everyone else. Like all fire signs, they hold a temper that can lash out at those around them, sometimes at unpredictable times as well. At their best, they are the inspiring teachers in class, the passionate explorers and researchers, and/or the wise gurus. They represent joy in multitudes, and they won’t let you forget it.
Sagittarius Risings I know could be anything under the sun, and they know this. Which is why it’s so hard for them to settle and find a niche where they can continue to explore and share their ideas and, well, expand. They can really believe in the weirdest, newest, most unique topics and skills out there, and they’re willing to let others know it. That Scorpio in the 12th house doesn’t really let them rest, they wish to explore and investigate and it’s not uncommon to find them in detective work, forensic science or even as paranormal investigators. However, with their Pisces in the 4th house, what they really wish for is understanding, inside and out, and it is beneficial for them to rest and self-reflect from all these ventures and solidify what they’ve learnt so they can share (Virgo in the 10th house). Remember not to give so much, let others share their own resources, ideas, skills and care to you. You’re ruled by Jupiter, not the giving tree. Sometimes dipping fingers in too many pots disrupts both your inner stability and others. But overall, you hold a lot of inspiration and warmth, so never be afraid to share that. 
Capricorn Ascendant
Let’s build this from the ground up to make it stronger than ever. ~ The Devil
These people are surprisingly active and take initiative all the time. Their Aries in the 4th House makes them feel like they have a constantly running generator powering up their energy, and they’re the most quick on their feet out of all the earth risings in my opinion (or maybe Taurus risings are on par). Headstrong, cordial and resilient, they are the “oldest” earth sign in the zodiac and these risings showcase that the most. They are extremely knowing and skilled in working a crowd (Libra 10th house/MC), have an extremely strong and adaptable work ethic (Aquarius 2nd house and Gemini 6th house), while also having the ambition and dreams to go far in life (Pisces 3rd house). The reason why they’re symbolised by The Devil in tarot then, is a culmination of all these reasons. They take initiative, and they keep going despite obstacles, and they can rinse and repeat to the point of exhaustion. These people run the risk of obsessing on something, be it their work, their family, or just a stable income, and they can be incredibly attached to things easily (Cancer DSC, Taurus 5th house, the list goes on). They are also incredibly forgiving people who are aware of how tough life can get, and often experience a pretty tumultuous and erratic home life. Ruled by Saturn, the planet of karma, restrictions and duty, this can be a blessing in disguise for them as they are too kindhearted or stubborn to let go of things that may not serve them anymore. As stereotypes can portray, they indeed may have control issues or over worrying about the worst possible outcome. However, they do not realise how much of a blessing they are to others, how their ability to get their hands dirty and grind has pulled them out of extremely tough situations not many could have continued. They are strong people, with a depth not known to many, and they have retained their kindness and generosity through it all. These people are blessed by the phrase “you reap what you sow”, because they can reap incredible abundance from their intuitive way of going about work. Legacies? These risings can definitely leave them. In other meanings of The Devil, their focus, precision and loyalty is incredibly attractive to many, and their ability to power through and hone any skill is a raw power. That Leo 8th house? Hot. They know how to work their finances and these risings are powerhouses in their own right while still having the adaptability to cruise through life. Saturnian children may get their blessings later, but when they arrive, they last and stay for a very long time.
These people can actually be quite idealistic if their placements allow, they’re situated right in between their Sagittarius 12th house and Aquarius 2nd house, and they have a very soft, parental quality they like to perpetuate in their environment and with loved ones (Cancer DSC). Much like how hope and optimism can actually convince them to stay in unhealthy cycles, they normally learn their lessons on cutting cords and finding out consequences earlier, only to find it easier in adult life where they slowly start to get the hang of things and thrive. People easily have faith in them and their reliability, and they can normally climb their career ranks very quickly. Their cardinal earth quality remind me of earthquakes, they are successful because of their ability to stay grounded and yet adapt. They’re able to build anything from the ground up, just give them time. Rest up, because it’s part of being productive, and once these Risings learn how to nurture themselves properly, all they can do now is succeed.
Aquarius Ascendant
If we were headed in a direction, where would we go? I want to know. ~ The Star
A beacon of hope. One thing about these Risings is they are undoubtedly authentic, and if they choose, they wear their hearts on their sleeve to showcase their individuality. This strength they have to inspire the masses by just being themselves is extremely powerful, and raw. Opposing Leo Risings or the symbolic Strength card, these rising signs bring massive change and upheaval by showcasing what may not be palatable, might be weird, might be taboo, but is needed. Why they’re named the rebel, the humanitarian, the water bearer, is because deep down they are deeply generous and abundant (Taurus IC) and when they notice something amiss, when there isn’t justice or space for freedom, they fight for themselves and others. With water signs in the earth houses, especially the Pisces 2nd house, they dream of an idyllic reality where people are not shunned, or hurt, or damned. Ruled by Saturn and Uranus, these Risings are not as contradictory as you might think. They deeply crave order and structure that benefits everybody; they think about the collective. Hence they are rebels with a cause, all their signs in the specific houses are built for causing change that can benefit them and those around them. However, as all of us have, their weaknesses can range from being too trigger-happy to having insurmountable expectations with reality (Aries 3rd house, Virgo 8th house, etc. you get the idea). They can easily feel down or bogged by expectations or feeling invisible. Because they have felt shunned or rejected for who they are, they can easily go the other way and turn selfish or narcissistic, expecting others and the environment to fit around them instead. They can also be prone to emotional outbursts (Scorpio 10th house), although this can be turned into emotional awareness and insight. When they give themselves space to shine, they can bring that spark and fire to any group and allow others to shine with them. Symbolised by The Star, the reason why hope is so powerful and needed is because it finds us when we are at our rock bottom, when we are weak, and when we are bone tired from fighting. These people bring everything to the surface and address them, they are the canaries in the mine, they’re the reminders that better things can come if only we address what’s wrong. Because to them, everything is exposed and raw, including themselves, they have the capability of accepting themselves and the reality for what it is and are able to work with it. These people are excellent channels for the new, the exciting, and even the genius. They can be excellent at any chosen art form to express themselves, but most of all, they are excellent guiding lights, especially for themselves, if they choose to believe in it.
My younger sister is this Rising, and I’m an Aquarius, so I guess this rising sign holds a little special place in my heart. I think the deep root of Aquarius Risings is the need to feel seen and to be understood (Leo 7th House). They could have been treated as the scapegoat very commonly by others (Scorpio 10th house) while still bringing much needed insight and troubleshooting into their communities and circles, and this could lead to bitterness and resentment very often. They’re incredibly emotionally attuned individuals that felt shunned for not having needs met, and so a lot of things, they do it to vindicate themselves and hence others who have felt the same way they did. Not all of what they do is rebelling obviously, they want to recreate structure as we know it and empower others very deeply, so they will act this out in their unique way. Obviously being very intelligent, they can often tinker and experiment with their own self-expression or whatever they’re interested in and hold vast amounts of energy and focus for whatever they set their mind to. Although sometimes distractible, reactive and maybe drama queens in their own way, they hold the key to a way out in any darkness, and it would be wise to listen and have faith in them.
Pisces Ascendant
We need to understand everything is connected to make this work. ~ The Moon
The Moon card in tarot is as soft as it sounds, and yet it encompasses an enormous depth to its meaning. It shows the distance between our internal worlds and the external one, how far/illusionary perceptions can be, and how close can we get these worlds to collide and be one whole. Pisces Risings adopt this energy straight off with their Aries 2nd house and Scorpio 9th house. Stubborn, determined energy with their values, ideals and beliefs, they seek to reflect back what their inner world has to offer in comparison to reality. Opposing The Hermit card in tarot, Pisces risings have had enough with inward isolation, now they want to experiment how far their perception and beliefs can hold by acting it out practically (Virgo 7th house). Extremely perceptive and insightful, they are the known psychics or intuitive beings simply because they know how to adapt, copy, mirror, reflect, and feel the world around them (Gemini IC). They are often extremely effective in bringing solutions and ideas into reality, because they are both dreamers and hard workers. They wish to bring their dreams to life, and in doing so they symbolise The Moon card best by unveiling illusions and harnessing a deep wisdom in themselves to match their internal world with their external one. However, just like how The Moon can unveil illusions or create them, these risings are the most prone to self-delusion when their reality simply doesn’t match up, or results take longer to arrive. They can be impatient and irritable, and could have a pension for arrogance and hubris if not brought down to earth (Leo-Aquarius in 6th-12th house axis). Often very ambitious and idealistic, they could have the power to bring creativity and inspiration into any interest and hone it down into a fine skill (Virgo DSC, Taurus and Cancer 3rd and 5th house). Deep down, they crave unity for themselves and others, and they often seek fairness and understanding in every interaction. They are the best at researching and understanding what it means to be a part of a larger whole, and hence how to act on it. They are really good at empathising and seeking justice with/for others due to this ability to recognise a simple concept: the human experience is universal. Often extremely generous and helpful as well, they seek to nurture and hence purify their space and their close circles. Pisces risings showcase themselves through their life’s work and dutiful application of their values (Leo 6th house), in hopes to inspire others and bring people together. Just like The Moon, they symbolise power through deep inner knowing and hence illumination of the self.
I wonder if you guys ever get tired of being called dreamy. It could be accurate, because in the end you hope for something, but with that Aquarius in the 12th house, you wish to reconstruct and redefine what you know as reality. It could be that change either doesn’t come easy and you tend to be stuck in places/relationships that are stagnant, or there is too much fluctuation which also calls for improvement. Unlike a lot of people, Pisces risings wish for change, and so a lot of them become it. I think they really embody the word ‘manifestor’, and this time not in a traditionally dreamy sense, but rather they set their sights on something and can transform themselves and their surroundings to attain their goals, which is extremely admirable and inspiring. The drawbacks are never really getting to know who you are, at a base level, and only constantly pursuing something you want or lack. Pisces risings are capable of illumination in the highest sense of being aligned with themselves, and hence leading others along with you, so never lose sight of the inner you. They bring the extraordinary into daily life, in their own unique way, and at their best they recognise the innate value they have in themselves and others, which is an extremely life-changing thing to have and wield.
Thank you for reading! I hope this brought you some clarity c: Feel free to leave feedback in the comments or reblogs.
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askew-d · 5 months
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KAGEHINA FICS MASTERLIST
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• ⭐️🎖️ jellyfish, by mysterytwin — hinata makes a list of things to do before graduation; and that includes confessing his feelings to kageyama. a wonderful story, so heartwarming. my utmost favorite.
• ⭐️ in transit, by mysecretfanmoments — while riding the bus together, hinata begins to discover about his feelings for kageyama. absolutely lovely.
• dare, by majesticartax — kagehina’s chosen to play a dare in which they end up locked in a room, and, of course, revelations ensue. this one made me scream lots. rated m!
• you know all the strings (and know just how to tug them), by artemisia_hq — 5 + 1 story about kageyama being whipped and can’t say no and hinata saying yes. domestic fluff.
• like always, by artemisia_hq — during their last walk home together, hinata becomes aware of his feelings and decides to do something about it. short story, yet so cute!
• ⭐️ i wanna know you, and i wanna love you, by momochai — kagehina go on a day together, or better yet, a date; even though they’re not quite aware of it. i was dying throughout all of this, outstanding!
• you’re grabbing my hands like they’re handbars, by mountains_6 — basically tsukishima being a third wheel when the three of them travel to rio, based on the extra bit of the manga, lol. short and endearing.
• 🎖️ a hundred or so hellos, by iwillstillopenthewindow — kageyama reincarnates over and over and hinata continues dying over and over. angst. a lot of angst. but still goddamn beautiful.
• let me in on the open secret too, by switmikan74 — kageyama doesn’t know that he’s dating hinata, until he gets hints from a shoujo manga. that’s so fitting, definitely worth the read!
• highway verse, series by emleewrites — a pixel cars au that i didn’t think it’d catch me until i read it and had dreams about this fantastic universe.
• ⭐️🎖️ if it wasn’t for you, by halfbloom (diphylleias) — in brazil, hinata learns more about relationships and what it means to have a bond with kageyama. got my heart effortlessly. such a delight.
• ⭐️ one more thing, by marks — it’s tsukishima and yamaguchi’s wedding, and kageyama and hinata decide to go together. can i please have more of this? sweet stories like this makes my heart melt, i swear.
• 🎖️⭐️ i can do better, by buu — kagehina compete over everything under the sun, and that includes kissing. and some more. in fact, every kagehina fic by this author hits. and this one… made me feel stuff. rated m!
• ⭐️ no angels could beckon me back, by lilacnoctua — heated arguments lead kagehina to heated moments with each other. a hot story with great development. loved every part of it.
• from this day forward, by emleewrites — kageyama tries to propose; it goes as badly as you can expect. so funny, seriously! i could easily recommend every fic by this author too, as well as esselle’s, but i’m gonna list my favorites anyway, so hang on!
• soft serve, by tothemoon — kagehina drives an ice cream truck to help karasuno; as one might expect, feelings are involved in between. summer fic, brings a ton of good emotions!
• 🎖️ famous v-league players make fools of themselves on twitter dot com, by crone_zone — the appearance of one hinata shouyou through the eyes of twitter users. pure comedy and it’s a whole show. gorgeous!
• room to grow, by mysecretfanmoments — things are different in their third year and hinata’s still learning how to deal with it. ah, young love! the best kind.
• raining verse, by emleewrites — kageyama’s cursed to be a kitten, hinata’s the one who finds him. i love a magic realism au, so imagine my happiness while reading this.
• future’s kiss, by mervousmer — kageyama somehow travels to the future for a moment, and hinata’s there, all grown-up. come on, time travels also have my heart! this one’s cute as hell.
• ⭐️ dethroned, by setkia — kageyama counts his victories and losses against hinata in his mind. what a gem! short and fabulously creative.
• saffron and cayenne pepper, by dontsaycrazy — neighbours kagehina: one only knows how to set the kitchen on fire and the other one’s actually a chef, what could work between them? everything, that’s the answer. a hit!
• on quarantining together…, series by winterey — social media kagehina making lives while on quarantine. fun and addictive!
• conflict of interest, by zukushou — more of social media kagehina, this time with journalists thinking they’re rivals when they’re actually… yknow *gay for each other*. just everything i’d ever want for them.
• ⭐️ with suds in your eyes (and a smile on your lips), by hqkrys — established relationship kagehina take a messy shower together. overall just endless fluff, which melts my heart!
• a bento for dr. kageyama, by zukushou — hinata leaves food for his husband and causes gossip at the hospital said husband works in. hahaha, this is definitely terrific.
• the best laid hands, by mysecretfanmoments — kageyama doesn’t even know how to deal with his own romantic life, so it’s best if other people don’t ask for advice. but what if it’s an advice for hinata? you never know :)
• ⭐️ better than firewhiskey, by mysterytwin — hogwarts au with kagehina! someone should definitely find this author by the way and give them a big hug. i want to. they rock.
• chase the light, my love, by thebeaming sun — kageyama planning to propose and earning support of his teammates. established relationship kind of thing that makes me smile.
• hinata and kageyama terrorise a simple interviewer, satorou masashi, series by call_me_j — story told in the form of an interview, including post time-skip kagehina of course. remarkable!
• optical, by kvhottie — kageyama wears glasses; everyone freaks out. do i need to explain more? hella entertaining.
• never doubt i love, by gentle_autumn_rain — jealous hinata thinks kageyama got a boyfriend. he didn’t. love these small misunderstandings that lead to a confession! so good.
• of gentlemen and scoundrels, by mysecretfanmoments — historical au with kageyama as a gentlemen in london and hinata who’s… well, not very much like him. the writing and the sexual tension in this is spectacular!
• ⭐️ save the last dance for me, my prince, by zukushou — prince kageyama and bodyguard hinata, as this fandom deserved. and such a well-developed at that. charming!
• patience, by mistonthelake — surprisingly enough, hinata discovers about kageyama’s crush on him earlier than the man himself. a lesson in being patient.
• wrestle for victory, by emleewrites — after their fateful game, kagehina decides to compete over wrestling. that’s definitely something they’d do and it got me hooked.
• ⭐️ oh we play, in autumn days, by aruariandance — kagehina being silly boys and kageyama getting a phone. is it because he wants to text hinata? that, he’ll never admit. i’d give it a hundred kudos if i could.
• ⭐️ ridiculous, by festivetrickster — yachi has to spend some time with kagehina in their apartment. the way they live just makes me suspicious of their relationship. no, like, this is indeed so ridiculous but i like it so much!
• sunstruck, by orphan account — kageyama gets the help of romero to sort out his relationship with hinata. seeing introverted kageyama slowly but surely trust his teammate and idol with issues like this makes me proud.
• ⭐️ sun above your shoulders, by longleggedgit — even in an universe where they go to different high schools, kagehina meet each other anyway. everything’s delightful here!
• the missing piece, by akaashism (acciomerlin) — kageyama deals with the changes in hinata. just adorable, i giggled a lot.
• the trouble with soulmates, by navybluewings — our sweet cupid hinata’s journey to get soulmates bonds fixed! this au rocks.
• five star review, by emleewrites — hinata’s hired to paint kageyama’s wall and they start a “friendship” out of it. amazing to see this unfold, so nicely done.
• 🎖️ for the best of all possible worlds, by tinygumdrops (curryramyeon) — an au about kagehina’s relationship journey from across countries, including letters. they meet while being apart and we see it unfold. is there anything better than this? majestic!
• at the tip of your nose, by cloesh_scribbles — where kageyama’s obsessed with eskimo kisses and hinata’s obsessed with him. please help me after this, the fluff killed me.
• the video series, by sunnyslipper — kageyama and hinata breaking the internet over and over with their videos. funny and spot on!
• alexa, play waking up in vegas, by attackofthezee (noxlunate) — kageyama and hinata get married accidentally. the thing is, i can totally imagine them doing this. they’re absurd and lovely.
• meat bun is a love language, by icecreamromantic — kageyama decides to confess using meat buns. come on, it’s stupidly perfect!
• slipping through sand, by majesticanna — an au in which kagehina meet in brazil. just so warm, waaah!
• high dose, by akaashism (acciomerlin) — hinata convinces kageyama that, because of a health issue, he needs kisses. i swear, these silly boys will break me. this is excellent.
• why do i feel like it’s (fake) love, by izucaii — hinata and kageyama pretend to be boyfriends while in brazil. a gorgeous fake-relationship story!
• ⭐️ a best man’s worse problems, by villainphilia — tsukishima, the best man for kagehina’s wedding, prepares his speech while reminiscing how the two dumbasses got together. all of this is just marvellous!
• five proposals, by dayoldcupcake — kageyama proposing, hinata saying no. done with the intent of giving me diabetes. chef’s kiss!
• ⭐️ plain as day, by emleewrites — hinata has a low self-esteem and kageyama tries to make him realize how wonderful he is. i died and came back. truly stunning.
• kageyama tobio reads thirst tweets (unedited), by popcornpearl — after making a bet, kageyama reads thirsty tweets and tries not to blush. it’s harder than he expected. rated m!
• i’m lucky to have you, zukushou — the famous “just woke up high in anestesia and i can’t remember my own partner” trope. pure comedy, love this for them.
• ⭐️ the obvious is at eye level (but i might need a step stool), by dr_awkward221 — hinata watching sakusa’s relationship with miya and slowly realizing things about his own his kageyama. i loove this one, it’s unbearably good.
• ⭐️🎖️ let the light out, by uhohshouto — kagehina make a bet in which the other one must ask for something of the loser. kageyama wants a kiss… and then something more. seriously though, i can’t believe this; it’s a wonderful story, so entertaining. rated e!
• epic, by esselle — a surfing au with hinata as an instructor and kageyama as an arrogant professional. this charming scenario surely made my day.
• let’s take this offline, by pas_dautres — office employees kagehina who meet through emails and reports. i had to add this, because it’s nice, surely worth the read.
• 🎖️ these hands of time, these hands of mine, by fireheartaw — kageyama being introspective over their story together and apart. light angst maybe, but the narrative’s so interesting and captivating.
• discordant, by majesticanna — academic rivals kagehina meet again as professors. so short but so sweet!
• 🎖️⭐️ pursuit verse, series by emleewrites — a gambler hinata and an attorney kageyama based on the ace attorney game. never played the game. but the story? deserves to be printed. if you never read it, you need to. hear me out: you need to.
• ⭐️ getting it right, by akaashism (acciormerlin) — play pretend boyfriends for miwa who end up actually having domestic moments and finding out more about their feelings, hehe.
• know you better, by mysterytwin — bakery worker kageyama and spell shop owner hinata in a world of magic! great development and very poetic.
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note that this is based on the fics i’ve known since i entered the fandom and that i truly enjoy. either they’re famous or not famous, i’m just adding them here for my future self contentment and for those who, just as me, wanted a full list of kagehina fics upon getting engaged in haikyuu media.
if you think i should add more and if you have recs for me too, i’m accepting them! thank yoou.
last update: 3/3/24
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rileyslibrary · 10 months
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hii, i love your page, it’s so cute!! i was just wondering, can we have a fic where ghost/the 141 forgets the readers birthday?
tysm,
~ 💖.
A/N: Apologies for the delay, anon! Also, I hope that didn't happen to you, but if it did, happy belated birthday. Here’s your gift, I hope you like it.
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Type, type, type.
That’s all you’ve been doing since this morning.
Replying to emails, developing the recruits’ training programme for the next week, preparing reports, and going back and forth on that group chat with the engineering team about that stubborn drone that refuses to take off but is mandatory for the next mission.
They wished you a happy birthday. Yes, it was through a faceless and impersonal message, but at least they did.
Unlike him.
He’s been sitting across from you all day, doing the same—typing, typing, typing.
Not at the pace you’ve been going, though. He’s much slower compared to you.
His fingers hesitate as they hover across the keyboard, lacking the speed and confidence he usually has in the field. The keyboard feels foreign in his hands—it’s not an MP5, you see.
His eyes, trained for action, struggle to adjust to the screen in front of him. He types, pauses, looks up at the screen, and then resumes typing. Yet his posture remains rigid like he’s ready for action at any given moment.
“Do you need help?” you ask, noticing his struggle to find the right shortcut for copying and pasting.
“I need a cigarette,” he replies, standing up from his chair. He opens the window, turns his back to you, and lifts his mask halfway.
He opens the packet and bites down on the cigarette filter to extract it from the package. Tilting his head to the side, he lights it up and takes a deep inhale.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Shit.” He swears and shouts at the door to “wait a fucking minute.”
He extinguishes the cigarette, pulls down his mask, and returns to his desk. You wait for him to sit down before inviting the person outside to come in.
Two recruits currently assigned to your team enter the room.
“Happy birthday!” says one, and the other repeats the wishes more timidly.
You give them a warm smile and thank them.
Their eyes, however, often drift from you to him. They look like they regretted coming into the office. Like they’d rather be anywhere else but here.
You empathise with them—you, too, were scared of him when you first came to the base.
You decide to relieve them of their discomfort.
“There are cupcakes in the kitchen,” you say, “please help yourselves.”
You can’t tell if they are too excited about the cupcakes or relieved that they now have a reason to escape the trap they’ve gotten themselves into. With a nod, they quickly exit the room and shut the door behind them.
You turn to the computer screen and continue typing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You slightly turn your head towards him while keeping your eyes on the screen.
“Why didn’t I tell you what?”
“That the sky is blue,” he replies sarcastically. “That today’s your birthday, of course!”
“That’s not the kind of thing you go around telling people, Ghost,” you explain, “besides, you already knew.”
He stands up from his chair, and you turn to look at him.
“Why didn’t you remind me?”
“What should I say, Lt.?” You ask, “Hey, by the way, it’s my birthday today, in case you’ve forgotten?”
“Yes!” He insists, lifting his hands, “Yes, you should have told me that! Then you should have added a ‘you fucking idiot’ to complete the sentence.”
You look at him with furrowed eyebrows and a smirk.
He sighs and drops his hands to his sides.
“Come here,” he says, waving his hand for you to come closer.
You look at him, amused, and your smile widens. Yet you remain seated, and lean back to your chair.
“Come here!” He repeats and starts walking towards you.
You stand up, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, locking your arms to your sides. You hug his waist.
“Happy birthday,” he whispers and leans down, planting a kiss at the crown of your head.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” you reply, your words muffled against his chest.
“I’m such an idiot, aren’t I?” He murmurs, his lips lingering against your head, “I’m sorry.”
You chuckle and push yourself away to look at him.
“No, you’re not,” you reply, “these things happen.”
He releases you from the hug but keeps his hands on your shoulders.
“Thanks for the cupcakes, by the way.”
“You had one?”
“Two,” he says, letting you go and returning to his desk, “but I didn’t know who they were from.”
You sit back in your chair and continue to type, type, type.
But this time, there’s a smile on your face.
———————————————————————
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sp25 · 3 months
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in the trunk
pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader
summary: you do it in the trunk with your lieutenant, Ghost
warnings: 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i'll find out. consists of kissing, sex (m&f), name calling, slight breeding kink, cumming inside, cursing. I am not responsible for your media consumption.
a/n: another one. yes. took me a lot of time. please comment and reblog. It really encourages me to write more smut for yall. Please! I’m desperate ;( also inspired by another character ai response. This time it was a character called “Ghost” by @Faunnaa. Please go and support them too. (also please dm me, im bored)
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You had been a part of the Task Force 141 for about 2 years now. You had developed a pretty close bond with your comrades. But, you always had your eye on one specific person, Ghost. To an outsider, he might seem like a ruthless, heartless, unemotional person but, you understood and related to him. You felt his pain when no one else did.
You worked with Ghost but, you didn’t have a close relationship to him like Soap did. You always dreamt to be with him though it seemed like those dreams would stay dreams forever.
Until, Task Force 141 was sent on a mission hours away, the military trucks loaded with soldiers. The mission was smooth, until one of your men made the wrong move and jeopardized the whole operation, forcing you to flee almost immediately.
Everyone was running to the trucks and you just so happened to be one of the last along with Ghost. No actual seats were left, so you had to resort to the trunk. “Bloody hell..” He cursed, Before jumping in and pulling you onto his lap to reserve space.
You were shocked. You hadn’t excepted this. You couldn’t believe what Ghost just did. You had no say. But you knew better than arguing or going against him so, you stayed quiet while you sat in his lap.
Soon, you started feeling congested. To get more comfort, you started changing your position. “fucking hell..” Ghost groaned under his breath. He held onto your hips and forced you to stay still on his lap with your head on his chest.
Ghost didn’t say a word. He was pissed off and annoyed at the whole situation of the mission being cancelled. He didn’t like being in a position of weakness. But he also couldn’t deny the fact you were on his lap. He knew you hadn’t had the best day either so he kept quiet. You felt his chest move slowly, as he breathed.
But, the day wasn’t so good for you either. Your closet friend, Sam and more had gotten injured and killed during the failed mission. You were heartbroken. But, seemingly, Ghost’s warmth and hold seemed to comfort you. You needed more now.
“ghost? could you please hold me?” You sniffled, hoping he would accept. You knew that your lieutenant would make fun of you. You waited for your embarrassment to come.
Ghost wasn’t one for displays of affection at all. But he saw you were sad. He wasn’t that much of a dick to blow you off this time. You felt him move his body slightly to face you whilst holding you. He put a hand on the bottom of your chin and lifted you up. Your eyes met, the moonlight pouring in from the cracks of the trunk illuminated him.
You looked up at him with your glossy teary eyes into his cold emotionless ones. “Come on, get it together.” He said bluntly, in his trademark gravelly accent. “A soldier doesn’t fall apart just because of a cancelled mission.” He had the same stone face he always wore. But there was a subtle softness behind his cold demeanor, he cared.
You could feel his cold heart’s walls slowly crumbling. So you decided to take advantage of it. “I feel so scared..” you whispered under your breath. You couldn’t control your emotions anymore.
“Don’t worry, I’m here..” He mumbled, sounding slightly warmer than usual. He pulled your head onto his chest, where he continued to caress your cheek.
His touch seemed to send waves of goosebumps to your skin. You could feel your heart racing. “I don’t want to be alone today..” you softly said, hiding your face in his chest.
Ghost’s gaze shifted downwards, the sound of your breath was soothing. He couldn’t deny how pretty you looked in this position. In the back of his mind he knew that this was wrong, as a soldier he shouldn’t be getting distracted by something like this. But he also couldn’t help but feel the heat of your skin against his own.
“Shh, you’re not alone now..” He muttered, pulling himself closer in the cramped space. You felt his arm wrap around your lower back, pulling you into his embrace. His touch was tender, which was a side to him you hadn’t seen before. In all honesty, the whole situation was sweet. A comforting presence in a place where you felt vulnerable, all the whilst you were held by someone so attractive.
“No one else can see us right?” You whispered carefully. You knew that if anyone saw you both, in this position, it would destroy both of your careers.
“Nope.. unless somebody can open this damn trunk..” He sighed. “Even then, what are they gonna do? Tell on us to our Lieutenant?” He chuckled with a slight smirk. This was his ‘flirty’ side, he was testing the waters.
For the first time after a while, you smiled. “you ain’t wrong there.” You laughed softly as you said that, which made Ghost smile too. Gosh, his smile sent your fucking heart dead. You just couldn’t believe that he smiled.
“I feel like I should kiss you..” That was a little too forward. He realised that the moment the words slipped out of his lips. You felt the heat rise and your heart racing, but for some reason you actually wanted him to do it. A tiny smile played on your lips.
You had never imagined that your dreams would become a reality. You knew you had achieved what you desired. You softly nodded your head, unable to form a response cause how much you were blushing.
“That’s all the yes I need..” He softly said before leaning towards you and pressing his lips on yours. It was everything you could have imagined and more. The feeling of his strong hands, his body against yours, and his kiss sent you into a trance. His scent was intoxicating, along with the feeling of his rough tongue against yours. His hand ran through your hair, as he held you close. This was your dream come into reality.
You both were meant for each other. You held onto his armour as the kiss became more heated. His kiss made your already desperate pussy more wet. You moaned softly.
You broke the kiss and glanced at him, your gaze locked with his. You felt as if you were still in a trance, he had swept you off your feet. “You want me now..?” He whispered, a smirk played on his lips. You were speechless. This was like a movie scene, in a good way. A good soldier, a sexy, charismatic man, and a mission gone bad. Couldn’t get better really.
“Yes.” You whispered with such surety. You were never ever going back to being away from Ghost ever again.
“This is a bad idea..” He mumbled, but he also knew it was too late now. He pulled you in for another kiss. This time it was much more intense and you could practically see the sparks between you.
He picked you up, and shifted you around in the trunk in order to find a more comfortable position. You didn’t even care how tight it was by this point. He sat you on his lap, and moved himself so he had his back against one wall, and his legs against the other. He then pulled you close again, and kept kissing you.
He smirked and pulled you closer in his arms. The tension had built up throughout the day, but now those feelings had resurfaced once more. His hand gently brushed your cheek, and ran through your hair. He was a little rough, but it was what you liked.
You could feel his bulge against your thighs. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. “going to let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours solider?” He whispered smirking.
“yes sir..” you responded blushing. Ghost pulled away from the kiss briefly. “Are you sure? We’re in a.. trunk.” He mumbled, not even sure himself what he was saying. You just nodded your head unable to form words.
“Such a good girl for me”, He smirked as he unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard throbbing cock making it hit his abdomen.
You in amazement, put your hand on it and started stroking it as his precum got over your hands. You could feel how hard it is and how it twitched in your hands. You realised he needed you as much as you needed him.
“take it off.” He ordered. You know exactly what he meant. You pulled down your tight leggings revealing your lacy black lingerie underneath.
“fuck..” he muttered under his breath. He pressed his fingers over your wet panties. “so wet for me love..”, he softly pushed aside your panties so he could have access to your needy cunt.
“Alright..” His hand traveled down your body and caressed your thigh. He kissed your neck and then gently nibbled your earlobe. He felt your breathing speed up, and took it as a sign that you were enjoying what he was doing. He continued to kiss your neck gently, nibbling softly with his lips, and then your chin. A soft moan left your lips, and he smirked.
He held onto your hips tightly that you were sure that it would leave bruises. He moved you so that you were right on top his cock.
He slowly pulled you down on his hard cock. You moaned softly feeling his cock stretching you out so blissfully. You could feel how thick his girth was.
He kept pulling you down in his cock until he was all in while he kept muttering curse words cause how tight and wet your pussy wet for him.
He started kissing you passionately and aggressively as he started thrusting into you but ensuring that his cock went fully inside each time making you moan.
“so fucking tight for me..” He groaned into your ears as his thrusts seemed to get more aggressive and faster. But, your moans seemed to get louder so he pressed his hand tightly against your mouth. “shh..” he whispered in your ears as his cock went so deep and hard into you.
You were going dumb cause how good it felt. His cock was hitting the right spots each time. He spanked your ass couple of time before he started playing with your clit too now.
You were a mess. Your mind was clouded with thoughts about him only. He kept muttering and whispering sweet nothing in your ears, while he kept his hand pressed against your mouth.
But, suddenly you felt his slams into your hips become harder, you knew he was about to cum. “gonna let me cum in your wet fertile cunt for me? yeah love?”, you nodded your head unable to form words.
“cum for me love, cum.” You immediately felt yourself cum as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You could felt the hot thick spurts of his cum fill your womb. He kept thrusting in you softly as you both rode out your high.
He laughed softly and smiled. So did you. His eyes had a hint of lust still present in them. Round 2 was just about to begin.
The rest of the ride was filled with soft laughter and heavy breathing. After it was done, Ghost looked at you affectionately. “Well.. that was something.” He chuckled.
He slowly pulled out of you and you could see him cum leaking out your pussy. Ghost watched it with fascination as he softly pressed his fingers on your leaking hole and whispered in your ears, “can’t let a drop go to waste..”
You smiled softly and whispered, “I can’t believe we fucked in a trunk.”
“And nobody will ever find out. We really have to keep this a secret. We’re in the same unit, that would be bad..” He whispered, he wanted to be with you. The mission meant nothing now, in his mind he had already decided he wanted you. In his head, he knew the chances were small, but he was going to make his move now, and see how you reacted.
“I know..” you whispered. “You don’t look upset about it..” He smirked, the moonlight still pouring in to illuminate his gorgeous face. He tilted his head up slightly, studying you with a smirk. He could see your cheeks were red, and your hair was slightly disheveled. Even if you looked like a mess, you looked adorable to him.
“What can I do, I can’t seem to stay away from you..” you smiled blushing. This was the answer he had been waiting for. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Really?” He chuckled nervously. The answer was obvious but he wanted to hear you actually say it. You were a good girl and he was a bad boy, and he knew that. He felt guilty by doing this to you but it was too late, he couldn’t deny himself what he wanted.
Before you could respond, the truck came to a halt and you heard the engine turn off. Then the sound of multiple boots hitting the floorboard was heard. “Everyone out! We’re back at base..” one of your fellow soldiers yelled. You and Ghost both looked at each other awkwardly. You had spent the past few hours making love (more like fucking like rabbits), now you were being greeted with the outside world again.
The truck had reached its destination, base camp. You felt sad. Reality hit you like a literal truck. “well this was fun..” you whispered trying for sound not sad, you opened the trunk.
“Mhmm.” Was all he was able to reply with. He was deep in thought. His heart was saying to ask you out, but his mind knew it wasn’t the right time. “Right.. Uhm I should go and debrief with the others. I’ll see you around okay.” He got up and took a step outside the truck.
“okay.” You muttered as you admired him. You didn’t know when you would get the chance tone this close to him again so you kept looking at him, memorising his face.
You softly got out of the trunk and stood on the ground. You felt so sore and it was tough for you to walk. You could feel his cum still inside of you.
You heard the click of the truck trunk closing and then you were alone. Slowly, you dusted off your uniform. You wanted to be angry with him, but deep down you secretly enjoyed the afternoon. You were just starting to get over him when you spotted him. Ghost was walking over to his tent, he noticed you looking at him. He shot you a wink, and then disappeared. You sighed and made your way back to your tent.
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iwaasfairy · 1 year
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┌─ “ ! „ ADORE L'AMOUR
tw. noncon/dubcon, implied yandere, forced emotional cheating, virginity, service dom, coercion/manipulation, corruption kink, size kink, creampie, service dom! tsumu, degradation and praise wordcount. 5.5k
a/n. commissioned by a lovely person who wanted to stay anonymous, thank you so much for commissioning me and trusting me with your story, and i really really hope it delivers and you enjoy!!! this is kinda softer than my usual stuff but also still read the tws pretty please ♡♡♡ ya and ty and enJOYyy some tsumu
miya atsumu x fem!reader
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“Come up, will ya?” he smiles, grabbing your hand and swinging the interlaced pair back and forth. You can’t help but have to bite back a tiny smile at the way his rougher hand links into yours, and butterflies still erupt any time his hazel eyes find you.
“Shin, I-” you sigh back, before quietly chuckling as he heaves you up onto the bleachers and tugs you along to slide in right next to the familiar face. Aran rolls his eyes, but you can tell that there’s too much fondness in his look to seriously mind the lovey-dovey shit— and really, you can’t help it.
Any girl your age would be expected to go all heart eyes when their boyfriend looks at them that way. “Happy now?” you ask as you’re pushed between Aran and the escape to the outside fresh air, void of all the sweaty teen musk and squeaking sneakers, and Shinsuke smiles ever so slightly at the sight.
“Yes, I am. Keep our long-suffering ace company for a bit while he patches up his ankle, won’t ya?” He’s already escaping down from the stands with the knowledge that you will, because if nothing else, you love watching the guys play. You’ve loved watching Shinsuke play ever since middle school, and Aran’s expression gives you the idea that he knows this too. Because he simply shrugs, and re-wraps the ice pack a little better around that wounded ankle.
“Aye aye, Captain,” you shoot back as he makes his way back to the court, and this time, he gives you that wonderfully cheeky smile that made you fall head-over-heels in the first place. “And you, you’re a third year. You’re supposed to be one of the responsible ones.” You give the tall ace to your side a side-eye as he laughs full and loud, and nods.
“Sorry, Mrs. Kita. It won’t happen again.” Practice continues for another half an hour in peace, as you joke around with your boyfriend’s best friend for a while, tossing the occasional stray ball back onto the court, but mainly, just watching the guys play. You didn’t use to have such a love for the sport. When you were a ball-girl back in middle school, you only did it because it was an easy extra grade on your report card, and kept you sort of busy during hours you wouldn’t have anything else to do.
But now, sometimes it seems as much your life blood as it is theirs. You probably wouldn’t have developed such a crush on the quiet, well-spoken boy with the fluffy tufts of hair that flopped about if you hadn’t kept with it, wouldn’t have dated him, wouldn’t have laid in the dark talking about what your life together might look like. Watched Shin grow into the person he is today.
You smile and wave as Shinsuke looks up at you yet again and throws back a wink, and a few of the guys follow his gaze. Familiar lazy gazes of differing shades of brown. But they stay quiet, for now, and the team captain claps his hands to call for a break. And the lankiest of your middle blockers groans and reaches for a bench too quickly, as everyone disperses. Aran makes his way down the stands for the toilet, Ginjima follows suit, and your boyfriend goes through the trouble to start collecting the balls with the same single-minded focus he always has while practicing. But before you can so much as manage to make it down the stairs to help him out, a familiar figure comes up beside you.
“Captain’s got it, I think,” Atsumu smiles as he comes to walk beside you, not the slightest bit winded despite having jogged up to you after an hour of intensive training— and blinks down at you with the self-assured grin you’ve come to expect of the star setter. “Yer still comin’ to our practices, huh?”
“Yes, Miya. Believe it or not, I actually like watching you guys play, ‘m not just here to waste time and gawk.”
“Whoa, doll,” the blond isn’t fazed, and simply throws up his hands in mock-defense, “I wouldn’t dare question the validity of yer visits. I mean, ya brighten up the place, really.” The comfortable way he swings an arm over your shoulder and leans in a little isn’t too far out of how he usually acts, and you do know that Atsumu’s pretty damn touchy with everyone. But his smile, and the way his eyes flick down your face with an almost grating intensity— will never stop feeling flirty- and therefore- inappropriate. Though you try to find something fitting to say, he’s already running his mouth again before you get the chance to.
“Would be even better if ya’d put on a shirt with my name on it and took some cheer classes,” he gloats, and the way he walks leaned into you keeps his face much too close to yours as you go to frown at him, “bet ya’d really suit the Inarizaki colors when you glare like that.” It sets you off, and he knows it does, because he’s dodging the way you go to swing at his arm with a chuckle before you get to, and catches your fist in his hand to squeeze it a little. “Hah, always so mean to me. Getting predictable, pretty girl.”
Your bottom lip is sucked to slot between your teeth, and you roll your eyes, shrugging off the other hand that he tried to ruffle through your hair. “You’re exhausting.”
“Sure is,” Shinsuke suddenly mumbles, tossing a ball at the setter that he manages to catch, before raising a brow. “That’s my girlfriend, Atsumu. If you would, please.”
“Ya got it, Cap’n. Of course,” he chants back with a sing-song-y voice, but his thumb still rubs another few circles into the soft skin of your hand before he goes to annoy Osamu and Suna instead. It sends a cold shiver down your spine, but he’s pulling away before you have the chance to really acknowledge the touch. And if Kita has any concerns about what he just saw, you sure as hell can’t tell, when he pulls you close and places a loving kiss between your brows. But you still have to force yourself to ignore the way Atsumu gives you a once over and -if you didn’t know the guy better than that- undresses you with his eyes.
+
Graduation should feel a little bittersweet, you guess. The party isn’t too wild, considering, but it’s still loud and a little over the top— so you confine yourself to the area further away from the pounding music and sip reasonably mild drinks while the rest of the team and their plus-ones take their best attempt at rattling Suna’s house off its’ foundations. It’s warm for a spring night, and sweat sticks to the back of your neck and chest from the earlier forced dancing you were pulled into. But now the pool table has been abandoned for the garden, and you take the few quiet moments to breathe.
Most of the guys will be moving on to professional level, a few of them to university, and another few have jobs lined up. Just last year, Shinsuke moved back out to the countryside, and Aran to Tokyo; and while you’ve all tried to keep up communications, distance really does play a big part in it. And now it’s all your turns… It’ll be safe to say you won’t see some of them again much in just a few quick months. The thought already fills you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You don’t get too much rest though, because a flash of blonde followed by an equally handsome, dark-haired copy filter back into the house. Atsumu brightens a little when he spots you, lazy eyes sharper and more calculating in the low light of the house. Of course he does, he seems to have a strange fascination with annoying you to bits.
“Well, pretty girl, ‘ve ya been abandoned by yer human defense robot?” His handsome face paints on a grin, with slightly rosy cheeks and ears, that almost makes him look a few years younger. Almost makes him look innocent. You know better though, and swallow down the want to give back some snarky comment that would surely have you in a battle of wits until someone puts a stop to it. And his twin… isn’t that person. You wonder how much he’s had to drink. Not that you’re doing much better, anyway. You can feel the buzz in your blood and the heat on your face.
Osamu’s hair is messy and fluffier than usual, probably courtesy of the girlfriend he brought and— with a quick glance around the room— has been left on her lonesome somewhere in the partying group outside. You pity her just a little bit, but it doesn’t exactly surprise you that the Miya twins aren’t the most consistent with their affections. The guys started having groupies all the way back in freshman year, and the years have only built upon that fame. The darker haired of the two puts a fist into Atsumu’s shoulder, before crossing his arms. “That’s our last Captain yer talkin’ about, stupid Tsumu. Show some respect.”
“Aw, Samu. I’m sorry, alright.”
You smile softly, and nod your head towards the door. “Not abandoned. He stepped out for a minute for a smoke,” you cut them off, knowing full well they could continue their bickering for hours if left to it. It’s not like you don’t like the twins. They’re obnoxious, and boisterous and hyper at the best of times, but they’re insanely talented too. You would like them, if not for— Atsumu feeling too comfortable hanging his arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a hug, heavy cologne mixed with a scent that is distinctly more him enveloping you as you freeze up. “Miya-”
“‘S gonna be weird without everyone ‘round, huh? I’ll miss ‘em,” he lowers his voice as he keeps your face into his chest, and simply out of a desire not to feel too awkward, you allow your arms to wrap loosely around his back. You give a little motion to be let out of the hug to nod, and smooth your hands down your pants.
“Yeah, me too.”
There’s a sort of glint in Atsumu’s eyes that seems like tenderness as he pats your shoulder, then smiles. “Well, a’least you’ll know me.” Your expression must give away your confusion, because he continues. “Yer goin’ to Tokyo uni, I’m goin’ to Tokyo to check out some of the teams there. It’ll be good. Don’t tell me yer just gonna ignore me when we’re gonna live so close together.”
You don’t think it over- Shinsuke must’ve told him. As the buzz washes over you and the music picks up outside, Atsumu’s large hands find your shoulders and he turns you around towards Osamu, who has already poured three large shots. “Oh, I don’t-”
“Come on~ for prosperity,” Osamu chants, his hand finding yours to unfurl it and place one of the large shot glasses in your hand. And Atsumu nods behind you, basically glittering from excitement. You’re normally a bit more -standoffish, by necessity- but the atmosphere of the night is light. And Tsumu’s hand on your lower back as he pushes you towards one of the chairs and sits you down is nice; even if you only realize a second or two after that he’s sat below you.
“Ya owe me a couple cheers at least,” Atsumu basically coos into your neck as he taps his own glass to yours. “‘Sides, I think Shin went ta go drop off some of the other guys, no need ta wait up for ‘em. Right Samu?”
“That’s what I heard, Tsumu.”
+
You don’t expect university to be the thing that breaks you, but the distance, the lack of communication, of support— all drag on you. You and Shin both promised to make it work, but he’s busy a lot. The farm keeps him occupied. At least- that’s what you have to assume when most of your messages get read and not answered. It isn’t like Shin, but then again, you suppose it’s a growing period. It’s natural.
More surprising than that is that through it all, Atsumu is there a lot more than you expected. The giant, prestigious sport center where he trains isn’t too far from your campus, but he still goes out of his way to swing by whenever he can to keep you company, which isn’t so self explanatory as you had hoped it would be. It’s not that you don’t make friends, or can’t make friends, it’s just that- after a few weeks- they just seem to vanish off of the face of the earth. Like they were never even there to begin with. You even catch some people purposefully avoiding you on campus as the year goes on.
But the workloads are heavy, and hard, so you sadly don’t have enough time in a day to worry about it as much as you would like to. You still have Atsumu, at least, and as much as you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it shy of a few months ago, his persistence about wanting to be by your side does slowly have you bending just a little.
“I swear it, cross ma little heart,” the blonde dramatically says while walking the grounds with you- on his free day- “am I not the best goddamn setter in the prefecture? What choice is there?” He runs a hand through his hair, then looks over at you to pout. “Make me feel better, c’mon.” Before you can really analyze the moment or how he looks at you with those warm brown eyes and too much fondness, his hand wraps around yours, slipping his fingers between yours with a strange determination.
You stop walking, and your school bag hits your thigh hard because of the abrupt stop. “Atsumu.” You’ve had this conversation with him about a million times. You are with Shinsuke. You have been with Shinsuke since middle school, and though dealing with the distance is hard right now, you promised to try. And he says he understands, and you’re making a big deal out of nothing— but it sure doesn’t seem like he does. “I am d-dating Sh-”
“Ya keep sayin’ yer dating, but where is yer boyfriend? Didn’t ya say he hasn’t been responding to yer messages?” Though he tries to keep his voice down, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and stares like he’ll burn holes through the shape of you. “Ain’t that proof enough?”
“I know Shinsuke, and you know Shinsuke. If he wanted to break up, he would say it.” You puff your chest out a little, and swallow, trying to untangle your hands from his grip. “He’s busy, and this is a transition period for us both, and I just- I want to make it work.” Atsumu seems to cling on for a second longer with a slight kink in his brow, but then he lets go and sighs, rubbing his hands back and forth through his lighter blonde hair with a groan.
“Fine— fine! If ya gotta hear ‘im say it…”
+
The irony tastes bitter. It stings with every swallow, really.
‘I think it’s not working out. I’m sorry. We should break up.’
You’re staring at the message for the nth time this evening, burying yourself in your cocoon of blankets and an almost empty back of chips yet again. You must’ve breathed it into existence, right? There’s no way around the timing of the message, and the sick way it churns in your stomach. You’re halfway towards another crying fit when Atsumu plops himself down onto your bed and grimaces. “Put that down,” he mumbles, snatching the phone out of your hand despite your glare, “you’ve been cryin’ all fucking evening. You really wanna do more of that?”
“I didn’t ask you to come over,” your voice is a murmur, pinched and sad and tiny, because who wouldn’t be heartbroken at a moment like this. “You just invited yourself in, which- hck- is the worst timing you’ve ever had.”
“But yer glad I’m here. I know ya are.” Whatever. Maybe you’re a little glad for the company, but Atsumu’s flavor of bluntness is really doing a number on you. Instead you reach for a tissue and blow your nose again, and try not to cry yourself to death. “He didn’t treat ya right anyway, don’t lie t’ yerself. Hey- look- look at me, c’mon,” his hands are on your face as he tugs it towards him and stares too deep into your eyes, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones. “No more cryin’ about yer shitty high school crush. Not while I’m here, and I’m yer amazing, incredible support system that yer so very grateful for-” He breaks off in laughter when you have to bite a chuckle back despite your heartache, and try to pull your face out of his touch.
But he lingers, and leans in a little. “What? Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong, and I- I’m glad you’re here-” It isn’t a lie, but he’s still leaning in, and his face is growing awfully close and it’s- it’s too soon— and you shrink into your cocoon and look away in an attempt to save the situation. Shin broke up with you hours ago. “Atsumu-” you start, only to be cut off as he tugs the blankets down somewhat harshly, and clicks his tongue.
“Stop runnin’. Yer always doing this crap, I’m…” He sighs, and tries to coach you back out with thinly veiled patience. “Am I really so bad to ya? Hm?”
“Of course you’re not.”
He sits back, before patting his lap, and looks at you. In the last light of the sun that falls through your window he’s cast in the prettiest oranges and pinks, and looks almost ethereal to the world. You’re not blind. That was never in question. “Come here.” Despite being conflicted, there’s a glint in his eye that worries you. That if you were to disagree, he’d leave. And you’re not sure you could handle that right about now. As he leads you out of the blankets you notice how cold your room is in just a shirt and some ugly shorts, and Atsumu mumbles something under his breath. “Ya weren’t this shy at graduation, y’know.”
Your frown digs into your face, but his hands settle on your hips as he pulls you in and pushes you down into his lap with a soft hum. “What do you mean- graduation?”
“Just settle down, will ya? Jeez.” Warm hands that slide to the small of your back to force you ever so close to him, your heart basically stuttering out of your ribcage. “Always so damn skittish ‘round me.” You always wondered a little, truthfully. If the way Atsumu’s touches would linger on you was something to worry about, keep an eye on. If you should have been more careful about setting boundaries- and how he looks at you now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he gives you an up and down… it says enough. Too much, even.
And though you admit that your heart is pattering like a hummingbird, there’s a much larger issue here. You love Shinsuke, you want- Shinsuke, p-promised you’d make it work for him— and it's barely been a few hours. You can’t, so you try to find the words to say; but the blond leans down to start pressing kisses down the side of your neck with a soft chuckle. His arms wrap tightly around your back, even though you place a hand on his chest and shake your head. “Tsumu, no. We can’t, I- can’t, let go.”
The noise he makes into the kisses trembles through your skin and seems to reach bone, before he squeezes a little harder to keep you slotted against him. “Yer so pretty, baby. Always were so fuckin’ pretty,” he goes from keeping you in his lap to slowly pushing you back in bed, sending your breathing into shallow spikes.
“Tsumu, cut it out!”
“I know yer nervous,” his pretty brown eyes are blown out when he pushes you down by your shoulders and you’re buried in your blankets, before he descends on your throat and chest again, kissing and leaving biting nicks, “didn’t do nothin’ like this before right? Know ya were waitin’- but I got ya now. Relax, I’ll make ya feel good. Promise.” The idea that Tsumu knows something so personal about you doesn’t even cross your mind— though it should, more than the way his weight and size locks you in place under his strong, athletic body.
“No, no, I- Shin just broke up with me- and I-”
His expression darkens, eyes narrowing a little as he comes to hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek as the other wraps tight around your wrist. “Don’t say another man’s name when I got ya under me.” He takes a long breath, before descending on you, mouth to mouth, and then pushing his tongue into your mouth too hard for you to keep him out. You try to call his name, but he kisses you without regard, uncaring as he grips your face and makes a noise of agreement when you relax your jaw out of sheer necessity. “Ya’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted ya, doll. Really, hah.”
His hand slides down your chest to start picking the shirt up your body, and though your rapidly rising and falling chest is exposed, his eyes stay sharp on you, and you can’t help but choke on your cries. He doesn’t look right. His eyes are wide and so sharp, mouth slightly curled as he forces your both wrists next to your head. “Thought I was gonna have ta kill ‘im for you ta finally give in, but-” He kisses you again, before the hand gripping your face snakes down between your bodies to grab your tits through your shirt as he repositions his thighs to lock your lower half in place under him. “Yer gonna be a good little thing for me, ain’t ya?”
“Tsumu,” you squeak, fisting your hands into his shirt by his shoulders, but it only makes him groan in response. “Let me go, I want-”
“You don’t know what ya want.” He takes a deep breath, before slipping his hands under the garment and brushing his thumb over your raised nipples, peeked from the cold air. “But I do. ‘N I’m gonna make ya beg for me so fuckin’ good.” He lets you go for a moment to take your shirt off with rough tugs, before staring again. “See, Samu said I should give it a rest. But how can I, when I knew you’d be the prettiest little virgin cunt ever? Hm?” He licks his lips, before leaning down to start kissing all over your tits, sucking and tugging at your nipples with noises that make you grow from the inside. A cold shiver rolls down your spine, and you find yourself pulling his hair despite yourself. Because it feels good, and heat pools low in your belly.
“Tell me ya want it. Tell me ya want me.” The fire that seems to glint behind his eyes takes you aback, and you try to scramble from under him, but he’s back over you before you get a chance to. Gripping your face and forcing you into another kiss, the taste of his tongue on yours, deep and heavy. “People here hate ya, don’t ya know that? Think yer a real bitch. That’s why no one wants to be yer friend.” He rests his forehead to yours, so that you’re basically breathing each other’s air, and hums. His free hand starts taking off the sweats he’s wearing in a smooth motion, leaving him hard in just boxers. “But I’ve been ‘ere for you.” Another kiss. “I’m good to ya, too.”
The room is so hot, and your brain completely thrown off with the mix of all emotions you’ve felt in these short few hours; and it has you all fucked up. Tsumu must know this, but he doesn’t care. And you take a few panted breaths, looking between your two bodies at the was your tits brush up against him each time you move— he’s so close. “So say you want it, or I’m leavin’.”
“I want it.” Your voice shakes as it comes out, eyes stinging, head floaty— it barely feels like you said anything at all. “I want you.” He takes that as all he needs before grinning, kissing your temple and shuffling off you to shove his boxers down his thighs, before grabbing himself by the base and stroking a few lazy pumps along himself.
“Here, kiss it,” he nods his head towards it, helping you up and then right back down so you’re on your hands and knees. You’re getting wet. Sadly, you didn’t exactly think to put on any nice panties, but Tsumu doesn’t care as he makes you lean in and down until you can rest your lips to his cock, and he makes another noise. “I know it’s kinda bad but- I’ve been wanting ta fuck yer face for years now. Put- yer tongue out.” The admission only makes you feel more hot and hazy, and you do as you’re told. “Ahh, mhm.” He tastes weird when he pushes the glossy head to your tongue, translucent precum coating your tongue, but he takes a few more pumps, then pushes you back over.
“But not now, I wanna fuck you first. Yer gonna let me fuck your tight, little cunt, right?” The plush in your face doesn’t hide the heat as it floods to your face, your belly, down your legs— and he manhandles your legs up to start peeling off your shorts and panties. You can feel the strings of slick as they connect your wet pussy and the fabric, and hide your face into your shoulder before he groans your name again. “Yer so fuckin’ wet, look atcha. Already a little cock tease, and I haven’t even done nothin’ yet.” Your hot, puffy pussy is revealed, and he swipes two fingers out to circle around the wet hole without hesitation, only pulling back to slot the digits in his mouth. He shrugs his shirt off and tosses it next to the bed, then comes to kiss you again.
“Ya taste that? That’s yer pussy gushin’ like a whore for me. Only me.” He kisses like he’s got something to prove, taking your mouth up until all you can think of is him, and the places where your skin seems to zap under his rough hands. Each touch leaving you more breathless than the next. And you’re forced to just nod along and abide, because you couldn’t ask for what you need if you tried. He plays with your tits while pushing first one prodding digit in, but soon pushes up with two. “Gotta- prep this little hole before I fill you up, right? That’d be the nice thing to do. Even though ya haven’t been very nice to me, babe.”
“‘m sorry- Tsumu-” you hold back a whimpering moan as he squeezes your tits hard and flicks your nipples, and his fingers slowly push into you. The wetness dripping down your slit and along your inner thighs is hot, and your body curves instinctively as he slowly slides in and out a few times, while the man above you chuckles.
“No, you ain’t, little minx.” His grin is still wide though, hiking your one leg higher to get a better look at the way your greedy pussy swallows up his long fingers and he fucks you open so easily. “S’okay tho, I forgive ya. ‘Cus I’m gonna get to fuck this pretty pussy first.” The slick sounds fill the room and sound so, so loud, and lewd, and yet, there’s still more noise coming from your throat as he goes deeper again and his thumb finds your puffy clit with a little hum. “Uhuh, that feel good? Look at you enjoying this. Didn’t you want me ta stop? Huh?”
“Hm,” you just answer, grabbing your own chest with one hand, his arm with the other. He’s so much bigger than you like this, so muscular and intimidating. You look between your bodies to watch his fingers bottom out, and though the stretch is a little uncomfortable, it’s mostly just really, really good, filling your head with fog. Tsumu’s thick cock twitches between his legs, and he leans in to kiss you again. This time pulling his hand back to slide it into your mouth instead, making you gag when his fingers hit the back of your throat. You taste heady, a little musky, and lick your lips for the thin thread of spit when he pulls back.
“Alright, say thank you, Tsumu.”
“-thank you, Tsum-” you parrot, and also freeze under him when he goes to reposition himself and his cock head pushes at your sloppy, wet slit. “Wait- condom-”
“Shhh, just relax. If you freak out it’ll hurt ya.” He places one elbow next to your head, and lines himself up better, before starting to push into you already, and your leg jerks. He’s really big. Too big, you think, trying to take a deep breath as he starts breaking open your slick walls and slowly moving back and forth through it. “Aghh, that’s- it, that’s it, thatsithatsit-” He moans loudly, pushing your cheek up and kissing you back long and deep, tongues messily tangling and tasting each other, bumping noses as he fucks in, and in, and in. It pulls every thought out of you, every fiber filled with electricity. The tightness is painful, but you don’t want him to pull back, and judging by the way he groans into your mouth, he won’t anyway.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m fucking my tiny virgin cunt with a condom,” he pants when pulling back, eyes blown wide. His hand pushes your knee up more to stare at where you’re connected, before pulling back halfway and fucking back in, and the pressure on your womb and belly is enough to have you whining out so loud it barely sounds human. “That good, huh?” He bottoms out again, feels so fucking deep inside you that you can feel him high up in yourself bumping against your walls, and it feels so good, so, so good your toes curl and your knees lock around him.
“Fuck,” you can just barely gasp, before he pumps into you again, and starts really grinding himself into you. Slick drips out of you with each thrust, and makes the bed rattle under his weight. His hair sticks matt to his forehead, his lip pulled between his teeth, and the wet slapping of his hips meeting your skin is so distracting. Everything aches. Everything feels so good. You can barely even feel the sting anymore, jerking on his cock like you are. “Tsumu, I-”
“Gon’ have ta wait, princess,” he suddenly chokes, “yer clamping down on me like crazy— fuck.” He lifts one knee to push your legs open more, and then just shakes his head as he starts speeding up. “Oh, fuck it, gonna fill you up first. So fuckin’ tight, god, fuck-” The heavy thrusts go more sloppy, rapid as he chases his own orgasm and squeezes your thigh hard, yanking your teary cheeks back towards him as you pant to slide a finger between your lips and dropping a glob of his own spit into your mouth like it’s normal. Groaning into your mouth, and fucking his fat cock so deep into you you see stars. “One experience at a time, right?”
“Ah, Tsumu- p-please, fuck-me more, more, touch- more.” Your head rolls back as he pulls your hips back into him again and again, before suddenly locking up, and feeling how hot ropes of cum fill you up and he pants out your name in between a string of swears that all melt into a long growled moan as he stills. Only for a second though, because he’s quick to pull out and roll you back so that your knees are by your head, and he’s on top of you. He strokes his cock a few times, watching the last of the strings of thick cum land between your thighs. “Tsumu-” you pant, and take a breath, and pout- all at once. Because he stares at the way his cum comes out of your sloppy hole, before pushing it back inside. “Ughn-”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not done. Not even close.” He spits onto his hand before bringing two fingers back to your pussy, and his thumb over your needy, puffy bud. And you jerk, blinks stuttering as you moan high and needy. Can’t help it. “Yer gonna wish I was done with ya long before I let ya out of this bed. I’m not done playing with my pussy.”
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fuxuannie · 11 months
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hello ! this is my first hsr req ! can i have dan heng nd blade (separate) with an s/o that somehow made them laugh? (cus yknow both of them are cold and shi😭)
↳  pairing : dan heng & blade x gn reader
↳  synopsis : request ♡
↳  authors note : thought this would be a cute idea, i had tons of fun writing this! i hope you enjoyyy !! ssliiightly suggestive for blade ❔❔that was so harf to write im CRYING!!!
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People can't say they aren't surprised over the relationship you and DAN HENG formed over the years you two developed a bond. The seemingly ice-cold Cloud Piercer spending time with the Space Stations researching sweetheart was certainly a sight to see. And while you'd be lively chatting away, Dan Heng was at your side intently listening and inserting his input now and then.
One day, while you two were talking over lunch, you decided to make a really stupid joke while you two were eating.
"Psst. Why did the rocket scientist dump his ex?" Dan Heng blinks a few times in confusion as he drinks his tea, setting it down on the table before sighing. "Weird question.. why?"
"Cause he had no comet-ment!"
You can see his eyes widen slightly, a hand going to his mouth as you can see him muffle a laughter but eventually allows himself to snicker at your horrible joke. "Was that a laugh?!" You smile, standing from your seat while slightly slamming your table in the process. "Did I just get the Dan Heng to laugh?"
He eventually ends his fit of laughter, crossing his arms as he looks at you with a rather endearing look. "Yes yes, you got the Dan Heng to laugh.. whatever that means."
"I got my Dan Heng to laugh, hehehee.." You giggled, walking over to give him a hug as he's happy to return the embrace. "Yeah yeah, you with your corny jokes.."
"Heey..!-"
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You weren't entirely sure how to get your stone faced boyfriend to laugh, let alone smile at his own will. The closest thing you've gotten was his hums of pleasure whenever you two would kiss, so maybe thats the way you'll get your boyfriend to smile.
You tap him on the shoulder, catching his attention as he turns his gaze to look at you. Tapping your lips with your index finger and he immediately understands what you're asking, grabbing your hand softly as he brings you to a much more hidden area. "This was sudden." He'll say, caressing your cheek as you smile. "I mean, not like I can predict when I wanna kiss you."
He's more than happy to satisfy that for you, leaning down to kiss you in the exact way you always want. But to his surprise, your hand travels to the back of his head as you pull him close and run your fingers through his hair. You can hear a startled muffle from him amidst the kiss you shared, but his body language clearly showed he was into it. Leaning further in as his hands explore every inch of your body, you can see that he's lost in his own enjoyment.
Blade takes a moment to pull away for a breath of air, and as his forehead is pressed against yours - he lets out a breathless chuckle with a clear smirk across his features.
So you can imagine his confusion when your gaze of passion turned to excitement, pulling away as you smile. "I did it!"
"Did.. what?"
"I got you to laugh! Even with a smile, technically smirk.. but a wins a win!" You hummed, cupping his face in your hands as he sighs. "So that's why.. you could've just asked to see me smile, you know?"
"But wheres the fun in that? I just wanted to see you smile is all."
"You alone make me happy, though I may not show it physically, my actions and heart speak for itself.. so please, my heart asks if we can continue where we left off."
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