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velvetcloxds · 11 months

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for a dialogue I don't know if you're still writing for twd but I just read love made me crazy and what about something after that where negan is out of jail and end up saving you when you're in danger or being the only one you ask for when getting hurt?

I WOULD CROSS THE LINE | N.S.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: villian becoming the hero for the person he loves- I couldn't control myself and turned it into a blurb and yes I'm always ready to write for twd- a brief moment where zombies try to eat you but it’s very quick and totally undetailed- ohh also age gap

part one: love made me crazy

It happened too fast, you were always aware when outside the gate, more so after convincing everyone to let Negan come out searching for resources with you, just four of you scurrying about the woods for cans of food you'd never find. You'd never been one to volunteer, much more comfortable organizing things at home but you were losing your mind wondering about Negan in that little cell while were you on the other side with not even a second with him. These little trips were routine, always the same, a few stray walkers that were easy to take down, always finding nothing in the process but things got out of hand too quickly.

Stuck in a room with three walkers, no weapon, nothing but an overthrown cupboard separating you, and without even a second of consideration you called for Negan, pleaded for him and it was like a bolt of lightning struck right through his spine at the shrill sound. He'd never cleared a house so fast, not a care in the world for who was behind him, yelling at him for not staying close, he'd found a knife along the way and the zombies grabbing at you were gone within seconds.

"Y/n," you didn't register the sound, kneeled against the wall, shaking despite your best attempt at staying calm, blood on your clothes and you weren't sure it was truly over. Negan was slow when he moved the wooden frame away, it wasn't an easy task with the dead weight slumped against it, but he wasn't thinking, not a thought going through his mind other than getting you into his arms. "Baby," the gentle tone made you snap back to reality, tremored hands reaching for him before you could register the gesture. "I've got you," he promised and he bit back a surprised puff of air when you launched at him, taking him with you to the ground in the process, holding him impossibly tight as you lingered in his lap.

"You came," you mumbled into his neck, he was cooing softly, hand bushing up and down your back, your arms circling around his neck as you fought against any possibility that he'd let go.- he kissed the side of your head as a promise that he wouldn’t. "You saved me."

"Course I did,” he couldn’t believe your surprise, not that he came, it was more than that, it was revealing a weakness which was something he’d never dreamed of doing, letting people know there was something to hold over him and he couldn’t care less. “Baby,” the word felt foreign a second time, it was deliberate, laced with so many consequences and hidden meanings but he wanted to say it again, a thousand times just to taste it on his tongue. “You okay?” you were, he’d checked before you were in his arms, he had a fleeting moment to do so but the blood wasn’t yours and the scratches weren’t made by the dead, just from the struggle of trying to get safe.

“You saved me,” you pulled away, looking him over, you’d never seen that look before, the concern, the relief at looking at you, you’d always been the one to fuss over getting him an extra blanket or saving him some of your food so he stayed healthy, made sure no one too bad gets put on guard at his cell. He had his moments too though, and would worry about you being on the night shift, or dealing with some idiots letting their egos get in the way but at least you weren’t alone, there was someone to step in if you needed it, someone to keep you safe since he couldn’t. So seeing you like this, scared and seconds away from disaster, made something in him shift. A realization maybe, he was being reckless with you, putting your safety in someone else’s hands when they were more bothered keeping a gun on him than saving you from danger.

“You scared me,” his tone was soft, dipped brows over darkened eyes, the weight of the world drawn black in his irises and you hated being responsible for that. He’d grown hard before you, numb to such senseless emotions like fear and you didn’t want to be the reason he felt it again. You’d wondered if he’d be able to feel, truly feel, what you felt for him yet somehow knowing he could felt worse than thinking he couldn’t. “When I heard you screaming...” he shook his head, cupped your cheeks in his own shaking hands and your fingers were desperate when surrounding his wrists. “Haven’t felt that terrified in so damn long,” his hands fell to your neck, thumbs brushing hair away from the back of your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you didn’t have to apologise, he’d tell you as much soon so you interrupted his thoughts, nodding, pleading for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to do that, I didn’t mean for any of this,” you didn’t mean to fall for him is what you didn’t say, he heard it even though you didn’t. “Of all the people, it had to be you,” you rested your forehead against his, he sighed, you bit your lip, if only words could describe it, if only the moment could last forever.

“Negan! Y/n!”, Carol’s voice was like a shock to the system, robbing you of your peace, forcing you right back into reality and after the gentlest, purest little kiss placed to you cheek, Negan jumped back, hands in the air in surrender as he stood up.

“In here!” he didn’t look away, gaze stuck on you, taking you in just one more time, making sure, slightly pleased with himself to see your breathing has evened out. “I’m going to change for you,” he promised and you swore your heart stopped, his hands now at the back of his head as if he was preparing to be cuffed. “I’m going to be better, baby, you deserve better,” he shook his head, agreeing with his words, his heart. “Please give me a chance to earn your heart?” you never thought you’d hear him beg, plead for you, your heart something he’s had for longer than you’d ever admit.

“You already have it,” you nearly whispered, footsteps coming closer. “You don’t have to earn it, .”

“Then give me a chance to deserve it, let me be good for you.”

Carol had her gun pointed at him as soon as she came into the room, too busy with him to even take in the dead zombies at your feet or the blood on your clothes, biased, priorities in place. Your priorities were far too different, flinching as she pointed the gun at his head while forcing his hands behind his back.

“He saved my life,” you blurted and the softness in his face was enough to give you whiplash, so different from how he’d looked at her, you were trying to make him human again, to them at least and it was almost as if he was pitying you for having to try so hard. “Carol, he saved my life.”

“I don’t care,” she bit back and your soul ached. “He’s still a monster.”

He’s not, not to you, a monster wouldn’t be kind to you, save you, a monster couldn’t make you fall in love with him. Maybe he was a monster once, maybe he’d changed, maybe he just allowed himself a little too much humanity with you and it ruined everything. You did love him despite all logical reasons, but you did also wish he’d change, not just for you, but for him too, for everyone.

There wasn’t a line he wouldn’t cross for power, maybe this line he’d cross for you, for weakness.

#negan smith #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x yn #negan fluff #negan blurb #negan drabble #negan fanfiction #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith x yn #negan smith fluff #negan smith drabble #negan smith blurb #negan smith fanfiction #monique's writing events #monique's event days #right where queue left me

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canonicallyobserving911 · 10 days

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Buck & Eddie: Buddie Endgame!

Before 7x5 aired, I decided to take a break from 911blr and Buddieblr since the BTS pics and the "supposed leaks" for 7x5 showed they were about to do another wash, rinse and repeat with both Buck and Eddie. Their storylines have been seen before and at this point, they've become predictable. Anyway, I'm glad I took several days off because I figured most of the people who watched it would see Buck on a date with T*mmy and it would prompt them to start "Jumping ship" (Eddie’s words from 7x4) even though the whole situation was rushed and there's no substance there. If people did jump ship, they have every right to do so but just in case they're new here and they haven't watched all of Buck's train wreck relationships starting in season 1, the facts are Buck is making the same mistakes he's made in the past even though in 6x1, he said he didn't want to do that anymore.

Here's the thing... I'm not trying to convince anyone about who they should and shouldn't ship because everyone has their own preferences. However, I do think it's interesting how some are choosing to forget or just don't want to acknowledge/admit the fact that T*mmy did the same thing to Buck that both Taylor and Natalia did but it didn't take him multiple episodes to do it either.

Here are the cycles...

WASH: He showed up to the loft UNANNOUNCED.

RINSE: He kissed him.

REPEAT: And then he left him standing there dazed just like they did.

BONUS SPIN CYCLE: He told Buck to "Take care of yourself" (he just said it before he showed up unannounced and he said it while they were at Air Rescue when he was trying to date Eddie 👀).

Therefore, it appears the only difference between T*mmy and Taylor and Natalia is, T*mmy's a man which seems to be the only reason why some are willing to look past his bad character traits (discussed here) based solely on that fact. He's just like Buck's previous relationships where it starts off with Buck being kissed like he's in some kind of fairy tale or some BS and then it follows the same pattern as before (as indicated above).

I'm not going to go into the Buck and T*mmy of it all or lack thereof any further because this post is about Buddie and only Buddie!

I've witnessed the REAL LOVE Buck and Eddie share and it's the reason why I have and always will ONLY ship them with each other. They've built a family together and the fact is they know each other inside and out. They don't have to pretend and they know how to take care of the other one. They agreed to have each other's backs years ago and they've continued to do it. Chris views Buck as his second dad and he was doing it way before Eddie updated his will and named Buck to be Chris' legal guardian. Chris called Buck when Eddie was having a mental breakdown and it's obvious he could have called 9-1-1 but he didn't. Reminder, Buck and Eddie are both first responders so he could have called emergency services but he called his other dad, the man who told him months before Eddie was shot that he's not going anywhere 👀.

Buck has cried, screamed and clawed at the ground while trying to dig through 50 feet of wet earth to get to Eddie. He's also crawled underneath a ladder truck (one of the things that tried to take his leg) to save Eddie after Eddie was shot by a sniper in front of him. Eddie’s blood splattered all over Buck’s face and he was in a CATATONIC state of shock until Capitan Mehta tackled him to the ground.

Eddie was the one bleeding out but he was conscious enough to ask Buck "Are you hurt?" before he went unconscious for the last time from the pain of being shot with a large caliber bullet. Eddie climbed up a 70 foot ladder while it was extended in the air without being harnessed in to get to Buck after he was STRUCK BY THE SAME BOLT OF LIGHTNING AND WAS CATAPULTED OFF THE BASE OF THE LADDER to get to him. He was the one who restarted Buck’s heart after Chimney had been doing chest compressions on him for 3 minutes. Trust, that last 17 seconds was ALL EDDIE DIAZ! Eddie took Buck to play poker to help him keep his mind off the fact that he died so he could relax and have a good time.

THAT'S LOVE!

Buck’s own definition of love describes EDDIE DIAZ and only Eddie Diaz! Therefore, it's ridiculous that people are literally trying to dismiss Eddie’s love for Buck just because some dude with a sorted past (with Buck’s found family. Hello Taylor Kelly anyone?) put his lips on Buck and kissed him the same way all the women Buck’s been with did.

Buck and Eddie are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER and they're each other's ENDGAME!

The point of this post is people can ship whoever they want but I HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL SHIP BUDDIE because they share a once in a lifetime, love of their lives, soulmate type of love that transcends space and time.

I'LL NEVER SETTLE FOR A KNOCKOFF VERSION OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. WHY? BECAUSE FOR ME ANY ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS they've had or will have with others resembles a cheap piece of costume jewelry that looks ok from far away until you get up close and realize it's a cheap imitation of the real thing.

Why would I settle for Buck to end up with a KNOCKOFF version of Eddie?

I won't!

And why would I settle for Eddie to end up with some babysitter who's more in love with her brother when Buck’s already been shown to be another one of Chris' parents?

I won't!

Buck and Eddie DESERVE THE REAL EPIC LOVE STORY that 9-1-1 has been showing and telling the audience about them for the last 6 years and no other love interests have or ever will compare to what they mean to each other.

Ship whoever you want but I only ship BUDDIE and I always will.

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joyfulfxckery · 2 years

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oooo you take requests... hmmm write me a thing... you know what I like since you read my stuff lolol

We could get struck by lightning, but you want to kiss in the rain.

Prompt: #57

Pairing: Copia x gn!reader - I don't think any pronouns were used

Words: 931

Warnings: Fluff

I decided to use a prompt for this, I hope you like it <3

You've been standing in the hallway before a window as you watch the storm take its course and the rain falling like tears down the glass. You were just on your way to go check if Copia has had dinner yet. He left your shared room before dawn, with a kiss on your forehead, and has been working hard in his office all day since the Clergy has been giving him loads of paperwork which unfortunately takes all of his extra time away from you. Taking one more glance at the storm clouds you walk away from the window and towards his office. The sight that greets you when you open his door is the same as the other times today; Copia is hunched over a pile of paperwork with his laptop on one side of his desk for emails. It looks like he hasn't straightened his back once.

He's too focused on work he doesn't notice you, even though you're not even trying to be quiet, until you're behind him and gently place your hands on his shoulders, "Merda empia!*" He jumps in his seat.

"It's just me, my love. I'm sorry to scare you." You lean in close to leave a light kiss on the corner of his mouth in apology and he places his gloved hand on one of yours while he calms down.

"Do not sneak up on me again, mia dolcezza*." He says with a huff that you have to stifle a giggle at. He turns in his chair to see me completely and you use it as a chance to keep his full attention on you by sitting on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.

"My apologies love, but allow me to make it up to you and pull you away from your work." You say softly pushing loose hair out of his face.

"No no no, I still have a lot of paperwork to do." He turns his head to look back at his desk that holds the banes of both of your existence, you gently pull him back by softly cupping his face in your hands. By the look in your eyes, the big puppy dog eyes, he gives an already weak warning knowing he can never say no to your puppy eyes, "Amore*, no."

"Amore, yes." You playfully mimic, "Copia we've hardly spent any time together this week. My Papa deserves a break."

"Does he?" He's so close to giving in, you can see a sliver of strength holding on in his eyes. You nod and do more to convince him you go place your head in the crook of his neck, leaving a little kiss on the sweet spot on his neck as you go, "I miss my Papa."

His body relaxes into his chair and his arms hold you closer to him and mumbles, "He misses you too." Placing a kiss on your hair his accent is slightly thicker as he adds, "You have me for the night, what would you like to do."

You lift your head in thought, "Well it is dinner time we can go eat. Or we could go out in the rain, have a romantic kiss then go to our room and ask for a ghoul to bring our food as we cuddle."

Copia looks out the window like he didn't know it was raining which he probably didn't if he's been buried in work. "We could get struck by lightning, but you want to kiss in the rain?" He looks back towards you with a cute tilt of his head.

You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, missing the feel of him this past week, "There haven't been any bolts." You mumble.

He sits still just holding you then pats your thigh, a silent signal for you to get up which you do then he follows and stretches his back out before taking a step out from his desk while offering you his hand. You take it with a smile watching as your hand fits perfectly in his. He walks out of his office with you in tow greeting members of his flock as you go, heading towards the entrance that leads out into the gardens. He pulls you out the door, out into the rain not having caring if his paint is going to start sliding down his face or if his robes are going to get wet because it's for you.

He walks with his arm around your waist keeping distance from trees and anything metal or electrical out into the middle of the grassy field. Keeping his arm around your waist he takes your hand in his pulling you against him and starts slow dancing while quietly singing "Life Eternal". Looking up to find those mismatched eyes watching intently with his paint quickly running off his face, his hair wet and curly with some strands of his bangs falling on his face. You're breath catches, "So handsome."

Smiling down at you as he's still singing and when after he sings "Can you feel me longing for you forever and ever?" he lifts your chin and places his lips upon yours, letting go of your hand to grip the back of your head keeping you there as your lips mould together like the perfect puzzle pieces, only pulling apart when air is needed he still doesn't go far as he rests his forehead against yours. "You're right, beautiful, this is romantic."

Merda empia! - Unholy shit!

mia dolcezza - my sweetie

Amore - Love

Feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

#papa emeritus iv #papa iv #papa 4 #papa copia #cardinal copia #copia #the band ghost #ghost the band #ghost band #ghost bc #papa iv x reader #copia x reader

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bestiarium · 6 months

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The folktale of the Ketelaars and the haunted castle of Maldegem [Belgian folklore]

The Belgian city of Maldegem used to be plagued by a gang of notorious bandits called the ‘Ketelaars’. The name ‘Ketelaars’ is an old Dutch word for coppersmiths who made and fixed things like kettles for a living, also called ‘Keteileirs’ in older sources. I'm not sure this gang ever really existed because I found no mention of them in actual historical sources, but there is a well-documented folktale about them (which was originally a song, called ‘de legende van het heerke van Maldeghem’ meaning 'the legend of the lord of Maldegem'):

As the story goes, the lord of Maldegem was out hunting one day deep in the woods, when he came upon a shepherd waiting for his sheep to return. This man didn’t look unusual but he did carry a beautiful, well-crafted horn that immediately caught the lord’s attention.

And so the lord dismounted and talked to the shepherd, asking if he could blow that wonderful horn of his. The shepherd protested and refused but the lord was very persistent. Eventually, he grabbed the horn anyway and blew it loudly.

Unfortunately for him, the shepherd was a bandit in disguise: all 36 Ketelaars were hiding nearby and the sound of the shepherd’s horn was the signal for the thieves to gather. The lord of Maldegem was reminded that actions have consequences – even for nobles – and he soon found himself surrounded by the entire gang of robbers. The bandits couldn’t risk their hideout being found, and so they agreed to kill the lord.

But the bandit who had disguised himself as a shepherd disagreed. Perhaps he didn’t like unnecessary bloodshed, or perhaps he was afraid that killing the lord would cause his servants to come looking for him, or maybe he simply took a liking to this odd fellow. Whatever his reason, he argued that they should let the man go and – being a talented orator – he managed to convince the rest of the gang. And so they let the lord go, but they did make him promise to ‘never speak with your mouth of what happened here today, and never write with a pen about it.’

The lord solemnly swore that he would never do either of those things, and he quickly mounted and disappeared. But he couldn’t just let those robbers and thieves go about their business, and so he rode to the city of Brugge with a plan.

When he arrived, the lord demanded a cart full of white sand. He then spilled all of the sand on the floor and spread it into a thin layer, and removed his shoe. Carefully, he wrote his story in the sand with his toe, and the onlookers understood what had happened. Immediately, a group of soldiers travelled to the hideout of the Ketelaar gang. All 36 members were swiftly arrested and sentenced to death by immurement.

The lord of Maldegem did not show mercy and ordered the construction of a subterranean dungeon with 36 chains. All of the robbers were chained to the wall, given a loaf of bread and a can of water, and then the lord’s men closed the last hole in the walls, entombing the criminals forever.

But the spirits of the Ketelaars never found rest, always lamenting their fate and how stupid they were to trust the lord of Maldegem. Unable to truly leave this world, their ghosts haunted the castle of Maldegem.

One day, the building was plagued by a supernaturally terrible storm: the heavens raged and screamed with thunder and lightning. The lord of Maldegem was struck by a lightning bolt and died on the spot. And so, the spirits of the bandits got their revenge.

This is the story as it is told by professor K. C. Peeters. My second source, which in turn cites a book from 1963 that I’ve been unable to locate myself, tells the same story with some minor differences (there, it was the shepherd who blew his horn instead of the lord).

The story of the Ketelaars is claimed to be centuries old but no precise date is given. The oldest mentions that I personally found were from J. F. Willems in 1838 and one from Frans Willems in his 1848 collection of folk songs.

In Reesinghe, Maldegem, there is a castle that’s sometimes implied to be the haunted location in the story but it’s not old enough. East of the current building, however, there are ruins of a much older fortress. I cannot say with certainty that this is where the Ketelaars were imprisoned, but I do know that it has a basement which is now dedicated to bats.

Sources: Peeters, K. C., 1979, Vlaams Sagenboek, Davidsfonds, Leuven. Volksverhalenbank Notteboom, H., 1995, een literair historische benadering van I. Rond den Heerd: de legende van het heerken van Maldeghem, Appeltjes van het Meetjesland: jaarboek van het Heemkundig genootschap van het Meetjesland, nr. 46. https://inventaris.onroerenderfgoed.be/erfgoedobjecten/58231 for the details on the castle. Willems, J. F., 1838, Belgisch museum voor de Nederduitsche tael- en letterkunde en de geschiedenis des vaderlands, Deel 2, Belgisch Museum, which you can read here. (image: the ruins of the supposedly haunted castle of Maldegem. Image source: Willems, J. F., 1838)

#mythology #ghosts #Halloween #world mythology #ghost stories #folklore #Belgian mythology

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jerzwriter · 1 year

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Tricky Treats

Book: Open Heart, Book 1 Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan) Rating: Teen Category: Fluff/ Halloween Summary: Kaycee laments forgoing her Halloween plans when a lucrative opportunity arrives, but the evening turns out better than expected. Words: 1500 A/N: This was for a Halloween Ask I received where Person A is hearing scary noises while being home alone and calls Person B to help them “survive in this haunted house.” I changed it up just a little to make it fit for Ethan & Kaycee during the intern year. I'm not sure I did it justice, but I hope you enjoy it. I didn't have time to edit, so please be forgiving! :) A/N 2: Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - Spooktober - Haunted / @choicesficwriterscreations Naughty & Nice Event (Nice Prompt highlighted below) / @choicesflashfics - "I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this"

“Come on, come on!” Kaycee anxiously dialed another number; desperation was setting in. “Please answer, please!” Voicemail…again. “Damn it!”

As the storm outside continued to rage, a deafening thunderclap left her trembling in a corner. Sitting in an unfamiliar home, with a blanket pulled up to her nose as if it were a protective shield, was not how she had envisioned spending her first Halloween in Boston. Her friends were scattered about the city living their best lives and having far too much fun to answer her calls. She was lamenting her decision to house-sit for Dr. Laverty. But when the elderly doctor said the gig paid five hundred dollars, it was music to the struggling intern's ears. She’d have to miss some parties on occasion, she reasoned. It was the adult thing to do! But as she frantically searched her phone, thinking of anyone who might join her. She felt like anything but an adult.

Her last hope was Elijah. He was working a late shift and hadn’t headed to a party yet. Maybe she could convince him to join her instead of heading to Donahue’s for fun and revelry. The old wooden floorboards mysteriously creaked again as a lightning bolt filled the room with an eerie purple light. She nervously hit his name on her contact list… convince nothing. She would gladly give him the entire five hundred dollars Laverty was paying her if he’d just come over… bribery was officially on the table. As the phone rang, another thunderclap struck, and a harrowing screech came from the alley below.

Kaycee dropped her phone to the floor as she jumped from the chair where she had sought refuge. She rushed to the window to see what had caused the horrible noise, forgetting about her call to Elijah. She peered out the window to see a stray cat scurrying away and caught her breath.

“OK, OK. Kaycee, calm down. You’re going to be OK. It’s just a storm, and you’re just in a creepy old townhome that hasn’t had guests since 1972. There is nothing to be frightened of. You’re just…. AAAGGGHH!!!”

The wind howled, a door slammed, and Kaycee let out a little scream before bursting into tears. She just wanted to be home, where she felt safe. The discarded phone on the floor began to ring.

“FINALLY!” she sighed; someone would come to her rescue.

Ethan.

Not who she expected. Her mind instantly went to Naveen. They had left his bedside together hours before, and she was sure something had gone wrong. Filled with concern, she forgot about her spooky surroundings and answered the call without giving it a second thought. But a tremble remained in her voice.

“Hey, Dr. Ramsey. Is everything OK?”

“That’s what I am calling to ask you. What’s going on?”

“What… what do you mean?”

“You called me, and the next thing I know, I heard a slam, crying, and you were gone… are you all right?”

Could he define all right? Because accidentally calling Ethan, of all people, and making an idiot out of herself didn’t feel all right at all.

“Yeah,” she lied. “I Uhm. I’m sorry, I meant to call Elijah, and Ethan Ramsey is next to Elijah on my phone, so….”

“So why did you drop the phone? And why are you crying? Are you sure you’re….”

The wind picked up again, and the old windows began to creak. A moment later, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the cavernous home, and the power went out with a loud thud.

“Kaycee…are you there?” Ethan panicked.

“Yeah,” she quivered, her nerves all but shot. “But I don’t know for how much longer. Because I don’t think I will survive in this haunted house!”

“Haunted… where are you?”

“I’m at Dr. Laverty’s.”

“Doctor… doc… what the hell are you doing at Dr. Laverty’s?”

“I’m house-sitting. But that’s irrelevant right now!”

Ethan ran a hand down the front of his face. “Send me your location.”

“What?”

“You know how to use an iPhone, Rookie! Send me your location.”

“Ethan, do you think it’s smart to….”

“Just do it!”

Kaycee waited in a small room off the main entrance. Every horror movie she ever told herself she shouldn’t have watched played over in her mind. While Ethan insisted on staying on the phone with her until he arrived, nothing gave her comfort until he said, “I’m at the front door.”

By the time he arrived, the storm had passed, and while the house was still dark, things had calmed substantially. Feeling foolish, Kaycee meekly opened the door.

“Hi…” she muttered, eagerly taking a flashlight from Ethan’s hand. “I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.”

“For what?”

“For making you come here… see, my roommates were watching scary movies last night, and I let my inner twelve-year-old take over. I’m really sorry.”

“Relax, Rookie. You didn’t make me do anything, and I wanted to make sure you were all right. Are you?”

“Sure, I’m a twenty-seven-year-old woman who just made her boss come out on a stormy Halloween night because she’s too much of a fraidy cat to stay in a strange home by herself. Everything is fine… except my ego.”

“Nonsense!” He insisted. “Where did the breaking glass sound come from?”

“From the hallway, I’m sure it was nothing. I should have….”

“You should have done exactly what you did. Reaching out to have someone here under the circumstances makes perfect sense. Now, let’s go have a look.”

The power flickered back on as they made their way down the hall, and Kaycee let out a sigh of relief.

They located the broken glass, no more than an old window pane that couldn’t stand up to the strong winds. After locating supplies in the basement, they cleaned up and boarded the window. They fell into a comfortable conversation, but Kaycee couldn’t shake feeling foolish. Relieved for a moment alone when Ethan went to the bathroom, she retreated to the same couch where she had been so frightened before. When Ethan returned, he joined her there.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering from Dumpling Palace. It should be here soon.”

“You ordered takeout from my favorite restaurant?”

“Well, you’ve had a bad day,” he smiled. “Work was difficult, and you stayed much longer than you should have to help with Naveen, and then you were rewarded with this fiasco. It’s the least you deserve.”

“Thank you. I’m really sorry I dragged you out. I hope I didn’t interrupt any plans.”

Ethan snorted quietly when he thought of where he was when he received her call. A mutual friend had set them up some time ago, but Cynthia lived in Chicago, and the commute to Boston did not make their match a convenient one. Still, if either was visiting the other’s town, they’d make plans, and one of those times was tonight.

“Is everything OK,” Cynthia asked after Ethan excused himself to take a call.

“Unfortunately, not…”

“No, I wasn’t doing a thing,” he smiled. “I’m just glad I could help.”

He’d never admit it, but he was grateful that his number was next to Dr. Greene’s.

Kaycee smiled softly. She had been learning there was another side to Ethan Ramsey. He was more than a grumpy doctor who instilled fear in the halls of Edenbrook. But as time went on, he surprised her more and more. She wouldn’t admit it, but she had never been more grateful for dialing the wrong number.

“I don’t like the idea of you staying here alone with a window broken on the first floor,” he continued. “Why don’t I stay on the couch? Then hopefully, you can get some sleep in the bedroom down the hall.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I’d feel better if I did. Plus, we could head to work together and check on Naveen before our shifts start.”

“We could do that.”

“Just one thing,” he insisted. “We do not tell him about this.”

“And why is that, Dr. Ramsey,” she teased. “Embarrassed to be spending the night with your intern?”

“That’s exactly the rumor we don’t need spreading throughout Edenbrook.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” she simpered. “I have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

“Are you done?”

“Nope. Admit it,” she smiled. “You were worried about me.”

“Of course. You’re the most promising intern in our program, plus you’re an invaluable support with Naveen, I….”

“… and you were worried about me because I’m not just an intern, am I?”

Ethan was stumbling to find his words when the doorbell rang.

“That’s the food,” he announced as he jumped from his seat. Saved by the bell. “I’ll go get it.”

“And I’ll clear the table.”

“I thought we could eat in here,” he interrupted. “Picnic style? We could watch a movie before heading to sleep.”

“We could do that,” she smiled as he disappeared down the hall.

In the years that followed, they’d never forget their first Halloween, when the universe conspired and gave them such tricky treats.

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @aishwarya26 @animesuck3r @annfg8 @annoyingmillenialnewbie @bex-la-get @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @danijimenezv @different4strawberry @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @forallthatitsworth @genevievemd @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirstt @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lilypills @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @mysticalgalaxysstuff @ofmischiefandmedicine @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @peonierose @peonyblossom @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbeeee @tessa-liam @toadfrog26 @trappedinfanfiction @uneravine @youlookappropriate @zahrachoices @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @openheartfanfics

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfics #open heart choices #ethan x kaycee #halloween fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc naughty & nice #choices monthly challenge #choices flashfics #halloween

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h50europe · 1 year

Text

Only Love Can Hurt Like This (Merthur)

by writingcreature

Merlin leaned his head against the window pane. His thoughts were far away. Not even the light of the oncoming vehicles blinded him. He simply did not see it. What he saw was Arthur dying in his arms. Again and again. The scene was playing in an endless loop in his head. It had been that way for ages.

Since then, Merlin tried to convince himself that what he and Arthur had felt for each other never really existed. But then... why did it feel like someone had ripped out his heart or his soul had been shredded?

Merlin was at the end of his rope, utterly exhausted and couldn't even tell when he had last slept. He closed his eyes and gave in to temptation. He knew that if he got involved in this mind game, he would be hurt even more. Only, by now, he had become addicted to that bittersweet pain that burned hot through his veins.

There it was, Arthur's voice. And when Merlin opened his eyes, he found himself back in Cauldron Manor. The sanctuary he had created in his mind to be close to Arthur.

"Don't you think you've had enough today?" asked his friend as Merlin poured himself another glass of whiskey.

"Nope, I don't think so. If the stuff would at least get me drunk, but not just for a few hours," Merlin replied, embittered. He emptied the glass in one gulp and slammed it down on the sideboard.

"Must have been one of those days," Arthur stated dryly.

Merlin turned around, "When isn't it one of those days? Huh?"

"Sorry, I was trying to show compassion."

"Compassion... Don't you think it's a bit late for that? If you had an ounce of compassion, you wouldn't have left me alone back then. You wouldn't have died in my arms." Merlin's eyes began to glow. Rage was boiling inside of him.

"Do you think it was easy for me? I always wished to grow old with you."

Merlin had turned away from Arthur and closed his eyes. A tear forced its way through his long lashes and ran down his cheek. The anger had given way to a pain that threatened to tear him apart. His chin quivered.

"Then just come back to me, Arthur. Find your way out of the darkness. Let me be your beacon," Merlin whispered.

"Believe me, if it were that easy, I would have done it long ago. But I don't know how."

"God, Arthur, it drives me crazy not knowing where you are or how you're doing."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Merlin, you know how much I love you, right?"

"Of course I do. I didn't mean to..." Merlin's voice failed. He waved his hand, and Arthur disappeared.

It hurt him too much.

"I'm yours, Arthur. Until forever," Merlin whispered as another tear ran down his cheek. "I wished you were much more than just a figment of my imagination."

Merlin was back in the empty motel room. The sky had darkened, and lightning flashed, followed by booming thunder.

The rain pelted down. One of the lightning bolts struck next to a cave that had once been a druid's refuge. Seconds later, a hand forced its way through the mud.

Merlin snapped his eyes open, "Arthur!"

The reason for this miracle was their deep, honest love for each other, an extremely rare constellation of stars and magic. But fate would not make it that easy for them. We all know that the powers that be often resort to unfair means. And that everything comes with a price...

#merthur fanfic #merthur fanart #merthur #merlin #colin morgan #bradley james #arthur pendragon

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acherontiarchivist · 2 years

Text

Love Me Dead

This is part one in my fic series where the slashers kill the reader in a romantic or sexual context!

Pairing: Gabriel May (Malignant)/GN!Reader

Tw obviously for graphic depictions of violence, murder (if anyone comes across something they thing I should add, please let me know!)

If you would like to be tagged in future installments or for specific slashers, please shoot me an ask! Otherwise, please enjoy the reading!

@honkandheello @bubbastit @kkennymc

"I don't understand," his voice, a harsh whisper barely audible over the crackling static of the radio, cuts through the silence.

As the sun sinks further beneath the horizon, darkness permeates the room like an all consuming void; the world shrinking, falling away until all that remains are him, and you.

But it's never just that. Someone else is always there.

"Look, there are…" you trail off, sifting your brain for the right explanation, the right choice of words. "There's not one right way to share an intimate relationship with your partner."

"Then why not… my way? Why can't I have this… one shred of normalcy?" Feedback rings between the pauses he takes. He's growing upset, you tell by the difficulty he's having projecting his voice, and the flickering of the lamp. One of the many ways you've come by to understand him better. "Why… can't I touch you like other… people do? Why won't you touch me like that?"

Your heart drops at that moment. Squeezing his hand, you persist,"Gabriel, I'm sorry. That's a boundary I'm just not willing to cross."

"Why not? What's… wrong with me?"

You cup your hands to each side of his face and look him dead in the eyes, "It's not like that and you know it. This body," you gesture to his entire self, "isn't just yours." There's a moment of silence that hangs heavy in the air, you let it sit to give him time to process. "If Madison–"

"Emily."

"Madison– isn't comfortable with it, then… I can't." Though you can sense this only upsets him further, you stand your ground, holding his stare as if to challenge him to debate further.

"But… what if I can convince–"

"No."

He sulks, crossing his arms over the back of the couch and tucking his head in the nook of his elbow.

"As I was trying to explain," you sigh, "sex isn't this ultimate end-all-be-all relationship goal– or, milestone. It's not some magic qualifier, there's no checklist for what validates a meaningful connection with someone. It's not even a requirement in romantic relationships. There are plenty of ways we can express our love for one another."

"Yes, I know, the little things. But… what about something bigger?"

It doesn't seem to make a difference to him. You pause to think for a moment, search for some middle ground, some grand gesture, something that could meet his expectations. Pulling yourself closer, you prop your arm on the back of the couch and rest your head there, inches away from his own face.

"Do you remember the night we first met?"

He does. You were watching a storm on the roof of the apartment building where you both live in the early hours of the morning, soaked from the rain despite your thick coat and wide umbrella when he had clambered down from the fire escape of the neighboring condo. Mesmerized by the flashing lightning and roaring thunder, you hadn't noticed the blood soaked stranger land only feet away from you. No, it wasn't until a particularly nasty bolt of lightning struck what couldn't have been more than a mile away, briefly lighting up the entire sky, that you saw him. Standing still in his own fear, though you did not know, cover now blown, staring straight at you. Your heart felt as if it could burst out of your chest, so startled that you couldn't even scream. He was gone just as soon as you had caught a glimpse of him. It was the most alive you had felt in ages.

"I do," he nods, some semblance of a smile on his face.

"I thought you were going to kill me," you laugh.

"I thought about it… I don't know why I didn't. I'm glad I didn't, I think."

Butterflies fill your stomach, whether from the reminiscence or the nervousness, you can't tell. But you work up the courage to tell him what's been on your mind since that night anyway.

"It's not too late, you know," you say, somewhat skirting the subject and averting your eyes.

"What?..." The radio whines and lights flicker.

Finally working up the courage to say it outright, you push the hair out of his face and gaze lovingly into his eyes. "I want you to kill me."

He pulls away, face contorting in a scowl. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

"I… think I need some time…"

"I understand," you nod, trying your hardest not to show how the rejection hurts. You keep your head low to prevent him from seeing the years threatening to spill from your eyes as you tell him goodnight before he returns to his and Madison's apartment. For the rest of the night you drown out the sound of your sobs with the running shower, sunk on the floor of your bathtub. You totally blew it– you fucked up the only good thing you had going for you yet again.

Gabriel and Madison have an agreement. Madison maintains complete control of their body most of the time; she goes to work, runs errands, maintains her own personal relationships, and has her own personal time, mostly during the daytime hours. But while she sleeps, he is awake and free to do whatever he pleases– within reason. He can't get too reckless with their body, and has to be very careful if he wants to leave the apartment. Mostly, though, he spends all of the time he can with you. As soon as you come home from work, he bolts down the fire escape to your room, directly below. Every night you see him waiting patiently at his window and wave, signaling for him to enter. It may not be the wisest thing to do, leaving your window unlocked at night, but having him there to stand guard when you aren't home is a comforting reassurance.

There are a few nights, however, following your blunder, that you don't find him waiting. It leaves a pang in your chest that hurts more each time. You've been spending more time in the afternoons with Madison, once you wake up for the day and she gets home for her shift, hoping to get even a glimpse of him. She asks how things are between the two of you, noting how he's been unusually quiet. You lie.

You lay awake on your bed later that night; it's your day off, so you don't have work, and you really should be doing anything other than wallowing in your own self pity, but you don't have the energy. You don't have the drive. Every half-hour or so you half convince yourself to get up and be productive, or at least do some self care, but it feels impossible. So instead you just lay there, in the dark.

And then, a rattling noise outside of your window startles you upright.

Through the sheer curtains drawn before the window, the neon light from various signs and fixtures in the alley casts a familiar shadow across your form. You jump off of the bed and run to the window, nearly tripping over the blankets you find yourself tangled in in your haste to unlock the window and pull the figure in. You hold him in a tight embrace and can't help yourself from crying on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you repeat these words what feels like a thousand times. "I should have never said that to you."

He pushes you away by the shoulders and approaches your nightstand. The radio crackles to life as he turns the knob to the 'on' position, then sits on the edge of your bed. "No… I shouldn't have left like that… I should be the one… to apologize."

Speechless and dumbstruck, you maintain your position kneeled by the window.

"I have been thinking about it… it was a wonderful feeling… when I killed those people… maybe now, with someone so… important to me," you perked up at that, crawling to the bed on your knees, "... maybe it would feel much better."

You lift yourself to sit on the edge of the bed with him, "Are you saying–"

"I want to kill you."

You kiss his forehead and pull him into a tight embrace yet again, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Are you ready?"

You pull back, "Right now?"

He pulls something from the deep pockets of his coat, a gold glint shining in the darkness. "Right now," he pushes you back into the bed and straddles you, each knee sinking into the soft mattress.

"Oh, fuck."

He raises the knife high above his head and braces himself. The anticipation grows exponentially with every second he looms motionless over you. He watches the rise and fall of your chest, stalling, hesitating; blade threatening to plunge into your warm flesh at any moment, yet holding steady over his head. Your chest tightens and goosebumps creep up your body, clutching the comforter underneath as you try not to squirm.

Your soft voice letting loose a plea of desperation shakes him out of his trance, "Gabriel, please. I've been waiting so long for this moment."

This finally pushes him over the edge, forcing down the blade, once, twice, thrice; into your chest, into your abdomen, again and again. Your lungs have surely been punctured, any attempt to draw in air is met with a harsh cough, sending blood splattering.

Warm blood seeps rivers down your chest and abdomen, soaking the comforter and mattress beneath with every struggled breath you take. He lays the blade gently next to you, opting to run his hands over your wounds, pushing down the skin to draw out more blood and a struggled moan from your throat. It was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He leans over and presses his forehead to your own before pulling back and caressing your cheek.

With the last of your strength you mouth the words 'I love you.' He maintains his gaze, refusing to let the moment the light leaves your eyes escape him. When he is sure of it, he lays by your side, closes your eyes and turns your head towards him. For the first time in a long time, he sleeps.

#gabriel may #post content #malignant 2021 #gabriel malignant #gabriel may x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fucker

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wonda-ch · 1 year

Note

41. — insanity, pretty please ^^;

The last of the One Word Prompts 41. — insanity

----

It was not her intention to kill them. She talked to them, hoping to convince them to take a different path or just leave. But they mocked her. They didn't listen to her words, not even to her threat that her good mood was coming to an end. Still, she tried to remain calm, to ignore all the anger and fear that she had been carrying around with her these past few days since her return from the abyss. Why couldn't these naive idiots just realize that they weren't going to win a fight and just go away? Then a flying dagger struck her shoulder. It left only a small scratch, not even worth healing. But her patience snapped, and she came down on them like a deadly thunderstorm. She did not even notice their screams.

Now Tishlia stood in the middle of the bloody mess that had once been three cultists. She was covered in blood. It dripped from her dark sword and made her blue Azata wings look like a grotesque work of art. Her left fist was glowing with electric arcs, ready to be sent to her next target. She breathed deeply. Her gaze was focused but lacking of emotions. She didn't move, she just stayed tense and waited. Waiting for a new victim to end her rage.

During the brief battle, her companions tried to catch up. But then they noticed that the fight ended, and stopped, horrified. Only one of them didn't stop and kept walking to reach the furious commander. Seelah stepped in front of him and grabbed his arm. "Stay here and let her calm down, Daeran. She's not herself right now."

"Not herself? She is insane!" Lann snapped beside Seelah.

Daeran glared at them both with a more than serious expression. "Don't you dare touch me, Seelah." She loosened her grip and he immediately went to his beloved.

"You couldn't let him go. She is out of her mind right now, she could kill him," Lann said worried.

"Then you want to stop the count? If anyone can get through her, he can. I guess we have to fix them if something goes wrong." Seelah's reply was sharp, and she watched Daeran's approach with tension.

Daeran was worried. Worried about her. But more worried about the possibility that she might attack him, and something might assume that he was in life-threatening danger. So he pulled himself together and tried to remain calm. He slowly approached the tense commander and called out to her in a soft, loving tone. "Hey darling, I think it's over. None of them will rise again."

His words didn't find their way into her mind, but she recognized a presence. With a fluid movement, she turned, ready to send the lightning of her left hand into another victim. At the last second, a realization flashed through her eyes as she released the magical energy. Daeran's head hurt and he felt dizzy as he realized that her hand was aimed at him. Calm, stay calm. He didn't move. He felt the electrical tension as the massive bolt of lightning struck the ground in front of him, just inches from his feet.

The tension in Tishlia's body faded and she took a deep breath before closing the short distance to Daeran. She searched his eyes for a hint of his feelings and whispered, "I'm sorry." Gently, he took her left hand to his lips. He kissed it tenderly and smiled at her. "There's no need to apologize, darling. I know you never fail to hit where you aim."

#one word prompts #tishlia x daeran #tried something new with the translation #if something is not understandable please tell me 😅#thanks for the ask💕

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pastelbatfandoms · 1 year

Text

Wells of Hearts

It has been a REALLY long time but I'm back! Haven't really been feeling like writing fanfiction since My Spiritual Awakening (Well one of) But The Muses have struck so I will be writing for some of them again. Just need to get back into the swing of things. I am planning on writing for My AHS/Supernatural fics too but for now here's Part 2 of My Flash story. It is the beginning of Renee and Harry's relationship.

I might leave her story with The Rogues as future side stories.

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Obsidian Storm made herself at home with The Rogues, soon falling in love with Leonard Snart after he saved her from a literal mental prison. (at this point Storm had completely taken Renee over) They were criminals, they stole and yes even killed people. But after they disbanded Rip Hunter came to Mick, Snart and Storm and other super villains, telling them he needed a group of outcasts to help him fix timelines and history.

They begrudgingly agreed after some resistance. Calling themselves Legends. Storm went with them because she had no one or nothing else. They made a great team once they worked together, but then Snart sacrificed himself and died. Beside herself Obsidian Storm and in grief, despite her and Mick growing closer, she left the legends. After wandering aimlessly Renee convinced her to rejoin Team Flash, Storm agreed and let Renee take the reins from their on.

That was months ago....

Now Renee leaned over the balcony of the roof of Star Labs, inhaling the cool night air. Trying to calm herself after her row with Harry,and not in a good way, it seemed like all they did was clash. Renee tried to get around Harry's walls he had erected around himself,but try as she might nothing worked.

Finally Renee had given up and snapped,telling him she couldn't be around him. She knew that Harry still hadn't forgiven Renee for shooting him,his words "C'mon,You like being the villain." Stung because they rang true. Renee herself didn't love playing the bad guy, but Obsidian Storm did and Renee WAS constantly falling for the villains or "bad boys." It was their,lost in thoughts and memories, that Harry found her. Stepping up quietly behind her. Renee knew he was their but they didn't say anything for awhile as he sidled up next to her, just staring out at the night sky, Harry's hands in his pockets. After awhile Harry spoke up, clearing his throat. "About earlier…I didn't mean-" "Yes you did." Renee interrupted, "But you were right." Harry noticed when Renee reached for the thin chain around her neck, fingering the dainty gold lightning bolt that hung there,a single small yellow diamond embedded in the center of the pendant. "I know how it feels to lose someone." Harry said quietly. "We don't know if Jesse is-" "Not Jesse." Harry interrupts, "Her Mother." "I'm sorry." They stare at one another out of the corner of their eyes,for a long moment. Before Renee gets up the courage say.

"I feel like I should really be apologizing for Thawne's actions, what happened with…" Renee trailed off. "That wasn't my wife," Harry reminded her. "Or your fault. That evil Wells made his own decisions." Seeing Renee's solemn expression, Harry turns towards her. Renee looks up at Harry in surprise,when he places both hands on her shoulders. "I mean it. It's like I told you before, Everyone loses someone they care about West, the real test of character is what you do once there gone." Harry pulls her closer as if to hug her or maybe…Before Renee could think of what she wanted to do,they were interrupted by Cisco. "Hey guys,sorry to interrupt but uh we need you back at the lab." Cisco said with a gesture,as they follow him out. Not without exchanging lingering looks and a small smile from Harry.

Things felt different after that not that they didn't still bicker, of course they did that was just Harry's nature. Harry was very hot & cold, at times he seemed to soften towards given her little smiles and offering to work with her, other times he was standoffish and irritable. Giving her short answers only like in the beginning.

Renee wasn't much different really. At times she softened, smiled and made jokes. Other times she was annoyed at his attitude towards her. They usually ended up bickering which got on the teams nerves.

Renee did admire Harry's work ethic though and how smart he was. They worked well together. When they got along. Renee was also a bit gun shy because he looked so much like the Harrison Wells she knew and had to remind herself that it wasn't her EoWells, also he was older, not that it bothered her but it seemed to bother him.

Finally the team had enough as Cisco told them, "Would you two just get a room and get it over with already!"

Harry and Renee looked at one another. "What?" Harry asked in surprise at the same time Renee said, "Cisco, we're not into each other like that!"

Cisco just raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Keep telling yourself that..." He mumbled under his breath.

"Renee is way too immature." Harry said pointing a finger at her.

"Harry's too much of a stick in the mud." Renee retorted. As he rolled his eyes.

An audible sigh could be heard from everyone around the cortex. "I think we should let them figure it out..." Barry murmured to Caitlin.

"Good idea." Caitlin answered. "I do have to head home, it's getting late." Caitlin said as she grabbed her bag, gave Renee a hug and headed out.

"Wait Cait I can go with..." Renee trailed off in surprise as she watched Caitlin rush out with a wave.

"Same,Iris and I have a date. See you later Sis, Hare." With a nod Barry zipped away.

"Good luck." Was all Cisco said as he patted Harry's shoulder, gave a wink to Renee,then walked off.

Harry started to protest but it was too late everyone had already left.

Then with a grimace, he said "I should get back to work." Walking off.

But Renee wasn't letting him off that easy. As she followed him.

"Harry wait. Maybe they're right, we should talk." Renee conceded.

"No." Was Harry's only reply as he sat down at his desk fiddling with the computer.

It was Renee's turn to let out an exasperated sigh. " I don't get you Harry. I thought we were getting along earlier, when we talked about what happened with Thawne and then your wife... But ever since you've been hot and cold with me, why?"

Harry didn't answer her, only staring at the computer screen.

Renee put her hands on her hips, lowering her head. " Fine. I don't know why I'm wasting my time. You are so irritating."

"Then why are you still here?" Harry grumbled.

"I was just leaving." Renee snapped.

Harry let out a deep breath then, shutting his eyes for a moment as he stood up. "Renee wait." Without thinking Harry grabbed Renee's wrist, then quickly dropped it once he realized what he had done.

Renee stopped, turning around as she crossed her arms. "Yes?" Trying not to think about Harry touching her.

"I... I'm not the only one who's irritating." Harry shot back.

"Thanks, is that all?" Renee replied sarcastically.

"No." Harry bit his lip with a sigh as he looked away, dammit why was it so hard to let her know what he meant.

"is it my age? I mean you did say I was immature." Renee asked.

Harry frowned at that. "What? No, I'm sorry about the immature remark."

Renee raised her eyebrows in surprise at that. "Harrison Wells apologizing? Wow is this an alternate timeline."

Harry cocked his head with a displeasing look at her sarcasm. "That was funny. Not. " Harry ran a hand through his hair, "I am capable of apologizing, sometimes. Look after our conversation that night I just....I think I...."

Renee looked at him expectantly. "Harry what?" when he didn't reply, " I don't have time for this." As she turned away.

"Dammit. Screw this." Harry practically growled. As he grabbed her to him and kissed her suddenly hard on the lips.

He stopped just as abruptly, staring at her as if she would run away. "Harry..." Renee whispered, staring at him in shock for a moment. Then she smiled and said, "Finally." Before kissing him back.

Harry relaxed then as he kissed her deep, his hands around her waist.

" Despite still finding you wildly irritating, I do like you." Renee murmured around his lips.

"Ditto." Harry said, his voice low with emotion. They made out for quite a bit until Harry finally said, "Well guess we should tell the crew."

"I have a feeling they already know." Renee smirked.

"Yes we do." They broke apart long enough to see Cisco staring at them smirking. "About damn time."

#fanfiction #The flash #wells of hearts #harry wells x reader

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flyingincandescent · 1 year

Text

The Last Kiss

This is Hyacinth, sending a post from beyond the grave, using Rudolph's laptop. I'm sorry i didn't show up on halloween but I wasn't ready yet, and some of the other members of The Fallen mentioned something chaotic was going on at the bar anyways.

I feel like I need to say something here. I suppose its a bit safer to avoid knocking another one down from sheer embarrassment at this point, since everyone already knows, but it's still hard to write.

The day I died, I was visited by the angel of death.

Me and the others were ready to kick some ass, though I had to pop a spray-on potion to power through a migraine. I decided not to sleep, too determined to rest. We walked down the dark hallway and arrived on The Stage.

Beyond the stage, where the field of dreams resided, I saw a man that looked far more dazzling than anything that the mage could have possibly drawn in that webcomic.

I was struck by his beauty.

The others, RN and Jovin, they tried to focus on convincing young Dylan to turn down the business proposition. Now I say young, but that's mostly just in relative terms. Apparently there was only a ten year difference between the two different versions of him, with countless years beyond any mortal lifetime under either of their belts. Or at least, that's the vibe that I managed to get. For all I know, young Dylan could have been just plain-ass 20 at very least, knowing how long the lost pawns took to escape the furthest ring.

Anyhow, Elder Dylan took one look at me and said something that shook me to my core.

"You're early."

I'm not sure if either of the others felt it, but I could feel a sinking feeling in my gut, and a growing distance from The Network.

The timeline was doomed, and I felt alone.

Now, I'm not sure how, but it seemed as if Elder Dylan knew this too. He instantly smote his younger self with a bolt of black lightning, and began making his way towards he stage.

The way he walked, dragging a wooden baseball bat, with the glare I know all too well of a hunter... I should have been afraid. I should have ran. Where would I have ran to though? What lesson would I bring back to the alpha timeline, knowing my moments were numbered regardless? So instead, I gazed upon him. I couldn't even tell how exactly he managed to dispatch my allies. Had RN lost all hope? Had Jovin's fury led him to his folly? Had either of them managed to figure out that we were no longer connected to the outside world by any useful measure? Well, I suppose they would have to have known the mission was a failure from the sheer fact that Young Dylan didn't revive from that lightning strike for some damned reason.

Before I knew it, Jovin and RN were dead, collapsed on the ground, crumpled and bleeding. Even my gallade was mortally wounded somehow.

It was only me and him at that point.

Elder Dylan approached me. I expected the worst. I braced myself to be blasted away, to be cut into ribbons, to be slammed into the pavement, to be burned alive until I was no longer...

But when he got close... he reached out his hand... and stroked my face. My sandpaper-y coarse face.

"Now that we are alone..."

One of his many shadow tendrils held me... gently. I was lifted ever so slightly off the ground, at his mercy. Every hair on my body was standing on end.

"...No one can interrupt us."

He elevated me to his level, and pulled me in for a kiss. I had never felt so much from a kiss. Everything in me was on fire. I embraced him. I kissed him back, suspending the moment as long as I could. I held him tightly as the world began to spin. I had never felt so alive in my entire life...

...and then

it all ended.

before I knew it, there was a gaping hole in my chest, and he kept staring at me.

In his hand, gushing with blood, was my own literal heart.

He stole my heart from me.

And in that final moment of betrayal, I was powerless.

He let me fall to the ground, but I kept falling.

I should have known that he would do this to me.

I should have known that it was too good to be true.

Before I lost my last bit of consciousness, before darkness enveloped me forevermore... I heard him say only one thing:

"All shall return to void."

And then all was dark.

I had been kissed by the angel of death, and he took everything away from me.

Do yourselves a favor and stay as far away from that seductive bastard as possible. It will only end in emptiness and regret.

I'm still not sure if it was worth it.

#sbarg 2.5 dungeon crashers #sbargv2 #guest entry

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ask-the-clergy-bc · 3 years

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Im so glad your HC's are back! I hope you've been doing well!! I'm not sure if you've done one like this but, can you do the papas comforting you during a bad thunderstorm? It's hurricane season where I'm from and having a papa reassure me would be the best.

Thank you as always 🙂🙂✌✌❤❤

Thank you so much! I've been doing very well! <3

Awwww, stay safe! Storm seasons are never fun. :(

Papas comforting their S/O During a Thunderstorm

Papa Nihil: The grandpapa is a bit confused at your discomfort. As a father, he has only had to manage fear of storms from his children when they are young. Unless the storm makes the lights flicker, he always just turned the TV up louder to ignore whatever was going on outside. But when the power DID go out, Nihil holds you close to him and chuckles. "I suppose this is good that you are not afraid of the dark, yes?" Nihil tries to distract you by making bets on when you think the power will come back on, or small reading or games by candlelight. He insists it's at least "romantic" as you wait huddled under the blankets on the couch.

Papa I: Noise cancelling handphones, if you asked Papa, were one of the smartest investments he ever made. While he DOES give you comforting hugs and back rubs, this is his best solution! Storms never bother him, and actually fascinate him... until he worries about the damage to his garden. So it's actually you comforting one another. Him giving you the headphones and helping you stay distracted, while you assure him all the delicate blooms outside will survive. You manage to convince him to come away from the window he is worriedly looking out of to come sit with you and read together.

Papa II: It's not that he wants to see you suffer, it's just the man is the least comforting of the group. Not by choice, but he is very logical when it comes to fears and isn't one to sugar coat things. But he does try! When a loud crack of thunder makes you jump and whimper he looks up and clears his throat. "No need to panic, it's actually farther away than you may think. By a couple of miles." When you give him a flat look he offers you some good gin or whiskey. You know. "To take the edge off." Lucifer knows the man tries.

Papa III: He's probably the most sympathetic of the Papas because he used to be terrified of storms as a child. He understand what it's like to be afraid of the thunder. But he grew out of it and is here to be by your side. Is his comfort also a thinly veiled excuse to cuddle? Absolutely. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the way you cuddled closer whenever a new bolt of lightning struck. Papa likes to pull you close under the covers when you are trying to sleep through the storm and rub your back. If you are REALLY wanting it, he will even sing softly to you to get you to sleep and calm down.

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia: Copia isn't necessarily AFRAID of storms as he is just jumpy with very loud noises. So he is there to hold you and assure you everything will be fine.... until thunder is so loud it rattles your entire parlor. Did you ever see the cartoons where someone jumps so high they hand off the ceiling? That is Copia. He'll do his awkward laugh and uncurl himself from the death grip he has on you. "ehehee, oopsie." You both just try to find a noisy activity so neither of you have to listen to the wind howling or the thunder cracking.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost headcanons #ghost fluff #reader insert #papa nihil #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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The Daughter of Aphrodite | Leo Valdez

Hello Lovelies! So I was inspired by my classics class and figured hey, what better than to write about Leo Valdez to make the cravings go away? This is my first Leo fic and I decided to take up a third person perspective because it felt right. It’s really fluffy and I hope you all enjoy! Until next time, all my love!

Description: Leo and y/n have been pining after each other for too long. Her friends help her come up with a plan to get close to him, now she has to cross her fingers that her mother, Aphrodite, doesn’t step in.

Pairing: Leo Valdez x Female!Reader

Warnings: Absolutely none

Word Count: 2.7k

Tags: FLUFF

(Pics not mine but mood board is :) )

Her hands were covered in dirt, a trait most uncommon to a daughter of Aphrodite. Somehow, though, she wore it like a pair of silk evening gloves. Her hair was messy, thrown in a bun atop her head, but every strand that fell around her face seemed as though placed by the gods themselves. Even in chaos she was perfect.

Leo leaned precariously against a two by four, watching the daughters of Aphrodite and Demeter replant the gardens around camp. Well, more like the daughters of Demeter and one daughter of Aphrodite. The rest of the Aphrodite sisters were lounging in the sun, avoiding the mud. He couldn’t help but smile when one of her friends gingerly rubbed some dirt off her face. He could almost hear the girl scold her. Always getting your hands dirty, hun.

“Just talk to her already man.”

“I have, multiple times. At least a couple times a day.”

Jason ran a frustrated hand through his hair, watching as his friend watched the girl he loved from a distance. Everyone at the camp knew how Leo felt, everyone except her. She was every bit as pure as she was kind. Not to mention loving, gentle, and patient. She was everything he knew he needed and, even more so, everything he desperately wanted.

“You know what I mean.”

Leo turned to his best friend, a lazy smile plastered on his face, “I know, man. I will.”

Jason only grumbled before heading off. Leo always said that. Clearly he hadn’t followed through yet. Not that it mattered. No one was exactly raring to go head to head with the boy who could light his entire body on fire. His girl would remain his girl until he could work up the courage to, well, make her his girl. Still, Jason just wanted his friend to be happy.

Leo watched her for another moment before heading off to do what he was supposed to be doing; fixing the door for the sons of Ares.

Across the green, musical giggles filled the spaces between the chatter. Her laughs were contagious, the Demeter girls rolling around in the plots they were supposed to be filling with hydrangeas, clutching their stomachs with red faces. The other girls, her sisters, also laughed, just a little more contained. They sipped on pink lemonade, twirling the straws in dainty fingers.

“So you’re telling me,” Arabella, a Demeter daughter with wayward curls, barely contained a chuckle, “you have never been kissed.”

Dawn, one of y/n’s sisters, chimed in with a few of her own runaway giggles, “don’t forget the best part: she’s never been kissed because every time a boy gets close, mother steps in!”

They collapsed again in another fit, filling the camp with some much needed life. She smiled sweetly, cheeks blushed like an angel, giggling right along with them. It was funny after all. She liked making her friends smile, it made her feel warm inside.

“Is it really true? Every time a boy has gone to kiss you Aphrodite has stepped between it?’

Her voice was pure honey, slow and sugary, “oh yes. One time, right as a boy leaned in, a bolt of lightning struck the ground, right at his feet. I’m not sure what she told Zeus to get him to do it. Mother has her ways, I'm sure.”

“Well,” the giggles died down but the atmosphere remained light, “if you could kiss any boy here, without Aphrodite striking him down that is, who would it be?”

Her eyes widened a touch at the question. One boy immediately swam to her mind but she brushed it away quickly, her smile still neatly in place. She knew for a fact that he wasn’t interested in her like that so there was no reason to offer his name to the group. Regardless, though, her heart still fluttered for a certain son of Hephaestus.

She coiled a loose strand of hair around her finger, her charm bracelet jingling gently on her wrist, “hmm, I’m not sure.”

Her sisters eyed each other cheekily before peering around the camp. When their gaze landed on precisely who they had been looking for, they giggled a collective hum.

“How about him, hun? Would you kiss him if you could?” Daisy nodded her glass across the field.

Her eyes wandered with her sister’s gesture, past a couple of younger campers playing a game, to a boy fixing what looked like the door to the Ares cabin. Silly boys, always rough housing. That cabin had to have the window fixed just last week. Her eyes lingered on him a little longer than they should have considering she was trying to convince her sisters that she didn’t like him. Her soft lip pulled between her teeth as he ran a hand through his hair.

Giggles erupted around her again, pulling her from her daze with heated cheeks, “Leo? He would never kiss me.”

The giggles only increased. Her eyes shifted quickly to the Ares cabin, hoping to Zeus that her group wasn’t causing too much of a scene. She wasn’t so lucky. Her eyes met Leo’s brown ones from across the lawn, her nose instantly burning. She tried to look away, she wanted to. Well, she thought she wanted to, at least, but his eyes held hers in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else.

She bit her lip again and he smirked, his lips pulling tight in a way that should be a crime. His skin caught the light like a gem, shining from his labour in the hot sun. When he noticed her eyes, drawing over his face and arms, his grin widened and her heart stuttered dramatically. When he winked at her and went back to work, her heart stopped.

“Oh, hun,” Arabella’s hand swept under her chin, pulling y/n’s focus from the fire boy, “you’re clueless, aren’t you? Have your sisters taught you nothing? That boy is smitten.”

Sarah Beth, her eldest sister, huffed indulgently, a teasing smile on her rosy lips, “oh we tried, Ara, trust us we did. Sis is helpless. Blame it on mother.”

Y/n whined, the sound like one of Apollo’s harps, “what do I do? I’m cursed!”

Even in her torment she giggled, rubbing her cheek affectionately in Arabella’s palm. Arabella smiled lovingly, an idea sparking as she pulled y/n’s face back up. It was a foolproof one, too. Arabella looked at her wide eyes, watching them dart across the green to the boy she was clearly head over heels for. Yes, it needed more than anything to be foolproof.

Arabella poured a fresh glass of lemonade, taking extra care to mix enough ice with the pink liquid. She plopped a straw in it, stirring it once, twice, three times before shoving it in y/n’s perfectly polished nails.

Her eyebrows scrunched, a cute confusion laid over her features, “I have lemonade, Bella.”

Arabella had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, “it’s not for you,” her eyes tilted to Leo, “he looks thirsty, hun. I think he wants a drink.”

“I don’t think lemonade is what he’s after,” Sara Beth didn’t look up from her own drink but her cat like grin said it all.

Her sisters had to stifle another wave of giggles as she gingerly passed the lemonade back and forth between her hands, contemplating whether or not to go to him. When she looked over at him for the hundredth time in an hour, she made up her mind. It was now or never.

She stood, much too gracefully for a girl with a heart racing a mile a minute, and took a deep breath, “please, mother, do be nice. He’s a lovely boy. I really like him.”

“Go get him, tiger,” Arabella nudged her gently towards the mechanic, a proud smile on every girl in and around the flowerbeds.

The walk across the green felt like it was never ending and much too short all at the same time. Every step that she took towards his crouched figure she debated downing the liquid herself and then running away. But no, she couldn’t. He was like a magnet, drawing her towards him with ridiculous ease. He didn’t even know he was doing it, that was the worst part. The tips of her ears felt hot, her feet stopping a few feet away from him. Oh, gods, what did she get herself into this time?

Leo’s hands stalled, a flowery scent curling around his face and clinging to his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in as much of it as he could. That had to be what heaven smelled like, he just knew it. Like chrysanthemums and honeydew. Yes, he knew for certain. He drew another breath. Gods, he couldn’t get enough.

“Hey, Leo,” her voice went high, her words like unintentional poetry, “whatcha working on there?”

Why did she say that? She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. So silly, what did it look like he was doing? When she opened them Leo was looking at her, a loose grin on his lips, a glint in his chocolate eyes. Her chest squeezed fervently.

“I’ll give you one guess,” his eyes glanced to the door before landing back on her, peering at her from his seat on the ground.

She scrunched her nose at him, trying not to giggle as he stood to face her, “oh ha ha, very funny.”

Leo laughed easily, a sound less honeyed than her own but still so sweet, “that’s my job. Well, when I’m not picking up after Ares’ sons. Can you believe they split the door in half?”

She glanced up at him, her doe eyes dancing over his tanned skin and black curls, unable to fight the butterflies that bounded inside her chest. He really was something. She held the glass a touch tighter when she breathed in his motor oil and nutmeg scent. She was certain this was what Olympus smelled like, not that she’d ever been.

“Honestly yes, I can,” she met his eyes again, sucking in a small breath when they drew down her body to the drink she had yet to hand over.

His eyes flitted back to hers and darkened a touch, a knowing smirk plastered on his lips, “say, is that for me, cariño?”

Her cheeks flamed and she knew if she lifted a hand to them they would be hot to the touch. How fitting.

“Erm,” she stalled, pulling her lip between her teeth once more, her eyes shifted to the grass at her toes, “I thought you might like some lemonade? If not that’s ok! It was silly of me, I’m sorry, I can just-”

Leo’s hand closed around hers, pulling the glass, and by default her, closer to his heady nutmeg chest, “I’d love some, thank you.”

His voice had lost its playful edge, only the soft warmth remained. He lifted the glass to his lips, drawing her hands with his as he took the first sip. She could practically hear her sisters swoon from across the grass. Wow, she’s really doing it isn’t she? Way to go, sis! Her whole body heated this time, her neck to her toes consumed by lapping flames. It was intoxicating.

Leo took the glass from her hands and set it on the step beside him, the taste of strawberries pungent on his lips. When he glanced back at her, he ran his tongue across his lip. The light hit her in a way that was entirely ethereal, clinging to her skin in a way that defied the laws of physics. It was maddening, like standing next to one of the muses themselves. God’s when did this ever happen to someone like him?

“It’s my sister’s recipe,” she fiddled with her fingers, lost with what to do without the glass to hold onto, “I hope you like it.”

He closed the small gap between them even more, pulling her fingers into his. Her heart skyrocketed, his hand was warm and calloused. His fingers fit too perfectly into the spaces between her own. Was it normal to be this breathless?

“It was sweet,” he squeezed his hand in hers, his voice carefree but low.

He slipped his other arm around her waist, thanking the gods for wherever his courage was miraculously stemming from. She practically buzzed in his arms, her melon and flower perfume melting around him. He bit the inside of his cheek. Was it perfume, or was it just her supple skin?

“I like sweet things,” he mused, revelling in the way her eyes widened, catching his innuendo without missing a beat.

Her mind was stuck on his hand. It was on her back, low on her spine, his fingers lightly tickling up and down. She avoided arching into his fingers. It was heavenly. He was good with his hands and it showed.

Her eyes brushed over him once more, stopping on his lips for a millisecond too long, “she makes muffins too.”

He tightened his arm around her, drawing the daughter of Aphrodite against his chest. Gods, she was soft.

“I don’t want muffins, cariño.”

Now or never, Leo. He leaned his head down, his nose brushing hers sweetly.

Please, mother, let me have this. She tilted her head up, her hands sliding up his chest.

Leo’s lips found hers at the same time her hands circled his neck. His lips were slow, testing to see if she would kiss him back, as if it was even an option for her not to with the way the flames, his flames, were licking at her skin. How did he do it? She felt like the sun; his lips tasted like fire and recklessness. And strawberries, a bushel of them.

She took his sweet kiss, savoured it, and then slammed her lips back against his, slipping her hands into his raven locks and tugging-- hard. He moaned softly against her sweet lips, giving in to every demand her mouth challenged. How could her lips be sweeter than the lemonade? He clutched her harder against him.

She pulled back only when her lungs demanded it, leaning her forehead against his heaving chest. She took the staggering lack of lightning as a good sign as a dizzying warmth filled her chest. He pressed his face against her hair, nuzzling against her sweetness lovingly. He had been waiting forever for that and he wasn’t about to let her go just yet.

Her fingers slid back down his chest, curling around his shirt, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you, Leo.”

What? He pulled his head away from her hair, staring into her doe eyes confused. And then he laughed, a full laugh that had his whole chest shaking and hers as well, before drawing his lips back to hers. He tugged her bottom lip between his lip, his hands squeezing her hips fiercely. She’s mad, beautiful but out of her mind. Gods.

“Cariño,” his lips brushed over hers, his words mingling with her breaths, “I kissed you. And trust me, I wanted to. Believe it or not, I don’t owe anything to the Ares’ brothers. You, on the other hand, have all my time at your disposal.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer before closing his lips over hers. There was a lot of lost time he was more than ready to make up for.

Meanwhile, across the green stood Jason, Sarah Beth, and Arabella, their heads close together but their eyes glued to the Ares cabin.

“I’m taking credit for this,” Jason and Arabellas’ voices mingled, proud and in sync.

Their eyes flashed to each other, “no, I did this!”

Sara Beth just giggled lusciously, twirling the straw of her own lemonade in lazy circles.

#Leo Valdez #Leo #Valdez #leo valdez x reader #the heroes of olympus #thoo #leo valdez imagine #Jason #grace #Jason grace #aphrodite #hephaestus #imagine #reader insert

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neitherlightnordark · 2 years

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Hey if ur still doing the headcanons ask thing maybe Seam? :3

who would i be if i didn't save the best for last? ;D (in all seriousness all the antics with queen and tumblr themes last night killed my computer which is why this took so long!! queen's passive-aggressive teasing of seam has a long reach)

realistic: speaking of reaches seam has big soft paws (smooth segue music). in general seam is very big and i try to draw the keep that way, although i'm really inconsistent... big paws, very tall and broad and fat, really big robe or dress or cape, really big hood, Fluffy... the exception is the tail, which is a short tuft of sorts. i love all the enormous seam tail headcanons, but the tuft just speaks to me. it kind of looks like how i draw toriel's tail too! and since i'm talking about designs, i love giving seam a delta rune robe like toriel's, it's quite fitting... i also like seam's dress having ripply layers on it that get more golden the deeper they are (it's an extremely specific vision in my mind and i'm not very good at drawing it exactly yet), and seam's scar being shaped like a lightning bolt (a joke about the fic i'll never write), and seam's ruff being so stupidly larger than it is in canon because it's cool and seam can nap in it like rabbits do with their own necks... seam levitating...

it's more sweet than funny to me (although it is also funny): okay so you know how the coatrack is the only darkner other than jevil to mention seam, how it tried to invite seam to the lightnerfest and it didn't work? in chapter 2 said coatrack is pretending to be a wizard with ralsei's hat. the connections are real. coatrack wants to be a wizard like seam. seam wizard confirmed. seam wizard hat confirmed. seam teaches coatrack and ralsei how to cast spell of oblivion and the two are struck silent witnessing the beginnings of the void and the ends of the worlds and seam is like alright there's a thought for you to mull over! ha ha... now, reality is extra malleable here, so don't go taking our tea inside of we'll find ourselves drinking liquified ceramic and paint

*explodes*: it was not, in fact, the chaos incident, alone, that led seam to fuck off from healthy connections forever and set up shop in the meadows. after it all ended, seam continued on, and babysitted the new little princess clover, and watched the royal courtrack's antics as it attempted to distract the magician from what it guessed seam must be feeling, and came up with a riddle should the shopkeeper ever wish to give another the burden of the broken key, and committed to memory how card castle crumbled even without the court jester. spade king began to encourage rancor and distrust in his ranks against the other kings, and to secretly take up arms against the lightners- and then he tried to convince seam, who'd been watching this and of course knew of his true intentions, to join him.

for spade king, too, had heard what jevil had prophesied, and he believed it- oh, how it angered him! and he was the only one of the four kings who hadn't agreed to lock jevil up. he tried to use this- seam was the most powerful of the court, they all knew this, and they all were afraid of seam even if they never said, they didn't know a ticking time bomb when they saw one- and how tired seam must be of holding back- and how perhaps spade king and seam could even find a way to help jevil, after they won- and then, seam laughed in his face, and left. for the meadows and such. not a goodbye to clover or the coatrack was said.

all of seam's nihilistic quotes are too dismissive to appropriate into this quote about canon: what else could i say here but seam being toriel's plushie, or perhaps even the collective plushie of the dreemurrs <3 there's so much chaos potential, and angst potential, and Good potential. plus, it makes all the relationships between everyone so much more complicated and you know i love puzzling out relationships >:]

#long post #THANK YOU #writing mr. the king is weird because i want to do his villainy and cool concept justice #but also the fandom is so unpredictable and... well Fandom with him and i don't wanna touch that #seam <3 #personal

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could-be-kira · 3 years

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thunderstorms – shin soukoku

It was bleak outside on this cold Yokohama night. The weather had been awful, and it had been raining all day, switching from pouring to simply drizzling all day long. It didn't seem to be getting better during the night, which was exactly why Atsushi and Akutagawa had opted to stay in and watch movies together rather than "anything else of value," as Akutagawa had put it earlier.

After the two had watched a few movies, they were simply sitting together in silence. It was getting late, but neither of them could seem to fall asleep, so they found themselves sitting beside each other on the couch, staring off into space. The silence was broken by Atsushi letting out a small yawn. He was clearly tired, and yet for some reason he couldn't bring himself to go to sleep.

This case of restlessness was not helped in the slightest when there was a loud crash of thunder from outside, causing Atsushi to flinch. He didn't like to admit it to anyone, but he had been scared of thunderstorms for as long as he could remember. There was just something about them that reminded him of the harsh conditions he had faced at the orphanage, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Perhaps it was that the fact that the crashing thunder elicited a similar feeling out of him as he felt when he was facing punishments from his former headmaster. Though he had learned to move past all of that for the most part, something about it still made him feel small.

Akutagawa had noticed that something seemed off about Atsushi almost the second he flinched, so he decided to confront him about it.

"Are you alright, weretiger?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it!" Atsushi replied almost immediately, trying to sound as confident as he could, despite the fact that he was lying through his teeth. Of all the people he didn't want to admit his fear of storms to, Akutagawa was number one on that list. He didn't want to know how he would react. He understood if he would make fun of him, because hell, he would make fun of himself, too.

Akutagawa didn't buy Atsushi's lie in the slightest. He could tell from the immediate and quick answer and the unsure tone in his voice. Though that was pretty normal for the weretiger, he had gotten much better with his confidence over the time he spent as a part of the Armed Detective Agency and therefore, ended up being pretty easy to read.

"Don't tell me... you aren't frightened by the storm, are you?" The ravennette questioned.

"No... what gave you that idea?" Atsushi lied again, really trying his best to convince Akutagawa that he wasn't scared of the storm. Akutagawa, however, simply rolled his eyes and sighed deeply before he spoke again.

"You are aware that thunder cannot do anything to hurt you, that it is merely the sound of air being expanded across the path of a lightning bolt which has already struck." He began, not even pretending to believe the other male's lie. "The only part of the storm that could h–"

"Okay, okay, yes, I'm a little scared of it," Atsushi finally admitted. "Thunderstorms've freaked me out ever since I lived at the orphanage. The crashing of the thunder has always felt like it was threatening me... like it was yelling at me just to make me feel helpless like my headmaster used to. I guess even if I am still getting better than I used to be, I've still got a while until I overcome that." He let out a small, sheepish and somewhat embarrassed laugh, internally dreading Akutagawa's reaction. Though their relationship had drastically improved from how it used to be– clearly, they were dating now– Atsushi never knew what the other male might say. Despite the fact that he was getting ever-so-slightly nicer, Akutagawa was still known for his sharp tongue and deadpan honesty that even still had a tendency to come off as overly blunt and a little mean.

"...of course." Akutagawa said softly with a nod. He had the feeling that Atsushi would certainly admit his fear to him once he called him out on it, but he didn't expect him to actually tell him the entire reason for it. It took a moment to come up with the right words of consolidation, but eventually he got it and began speaking again.

"I suppose storms, like your headmaster, from what I've heard, can be threatening things, but they also always end in leaving you alone in the end. Your headmaster is gone and soon will be the storm, allowing you to move past the obstacles that are your memories. Thunder is like the scream of an angry and passionate bolt of lightning moving quickly to attack the weak, but it can't get you any longer. You've done much since we first met, weretiger, and you are no longer weak, and thus, can no longer be attacked by the lightning flash. And, even if your memories do overwhelm you... I've got you right here, so there will be nothing to worry about." Akutagawa muttered that last part under his breath in embarrassment for being all sappy like this.

Hearing all of that from him, Atsushi simply nodded, letting a small smile cross his lips. He never expected to be empowered like this by Akutagawa of all people, and yet here he was. It was almost as if the ravennette was somehow a natural at consoling him, but the truth was that it could only be done because he was once afraid of storms as well.

Akutagawa then proceeded to ever-so-slightly hold out his arm to allow Atsushi to scoot closer to him if he so desired.

"Do you want to–?"

He was cut off by Atsushi sliding over and laying his head on top of his shoulder. He couldn't help but smile before looking down and softly muttering:

"Rashoumon..."

He directed his ability to lightly wrap around Atsushi to provide him with a sense of warmth and security so that he could finally fall asleep. This was one of the first times that he hadn't used his ability to attempt to kill the weretiger, and it certainly wouldn't be his last.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #atsushi nakajima #ryunosuke akutagawa #shin soukoku #♡ / ( writings . )

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rocksinmuffin · 5 years

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And last!! Hhh, sorry. A Disney villain. Any is fine but I'm Super Gay for Jafar, Turbo, and John Silver. ♡

👀 at Jafar because I had the weirdest crush on him as a child. I hope the magical-empowered genie version of him from the second movie is cool with you because it just has so much potential.

Also nothing nsfw because it wasn’t specified but also I just got caught up in setting up the story.

~*~

You are not someone of great importance or notoriety. You are like most who are born in Agrabah; born in an impoverished home with humble parents, destined for mediocrity at best and an early death statistically. You haven’t believed in fairy tales and happy endings since your parents became too old and sick to tell you stories.

This is why you think nothing of the old lamp that you find as you draw water from the well, more concerned by how it might have contaminated the water than any perceived value it might have.

“Filthy,” you mutter aloud, rubbing at its soot black surface to see how easily you can clear the dirt and grime. After that, three things happen in quick succession of one another, all in a matter of seconds and each thing more unbelievable than the last.

First, smoke begins seeping out of the lamp, surrounding you in a smog so dark and thick it blocks out all natural light. Second, hideous cackling laughter echoes from all sides and inside your skull at a maddening volume that makes most thought near impossible. Third, and finally, something red and viscous oozes from the tip of the lantern like liquid until taking a form that is vaguely shaped like a man but could never be mistaken for one.

You’re struck instantly with fear; the kind that has your eyes wide and muscles tense and own breath forgotten until you feel your lungs ache from lack of oxygen.

The awful phantasm of a man smiles unkindly at your bugged eyes and sharp intake of breath. His eyes glow, void of pupils; empty pits of light that shine with a gleam that speaks of sadism. He’s enjoying your fear.

“Congratulations,” he says with a smile like a snake. “You have released me from the confines of my lamp. As your reward, I will spare you your life as long as you bow down and swear to serve me.”

Something about his words shake you past your fear, rattling you from the inside. Something about expecting loyalty and servitude under threat. About deeming you lesser and deciding your destiny is something beyond your control but not his. It strikes a chord in you, makes you put on a brave face as you stare up into the eyes of a devil.

“No,” you tell him simply, tone clipped.

“No?”

“No,” you repeat.

There’s a flash of true rage that distorts his features; it lasts for only a fraction of a second but you catch it before his expression smooths over into the hooded eyes and thin-lipped smile of a self-confident sneer. “I could end you,” he tells you, speaking clearly and over-enunciating the words like he thinks you’re slow.

You’re not quite sure what overcomes you in that moment; something bold and nihilistic, born of exhaustion and rage and the fact that this entire interaction is so far beyond the realms of reality that you aren’t entirely convinced you aren’t just suffering from heat stroke. “Then what are you waiting for? Do it!”

But for all the pomp and circumstance; the dark clouds and rolling thunder and lightning that strikes so close you can feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end; no harm comes to you. Vaguely, you recall fairy tales from forever ago.

“You can’t, can you?”

“Insolent child!” Lightning strikes at your feet as he snarls but still the bolt misses you, causing you no more distress than what your own nerves do to you. “Do not presume to tell me what I can or can’t do!”

“You can’t,” you repeat, thinking aloud. “You can’t hurt me. You can’t do much of anything with your magic aside from fancy theatrics without someone else giving you a command, can you?”

He snarls again, closing in with his arms outstretched like he means to wring your neck, but he stops just short of touching you. The manicles around his wrists spark with dark magic, strained sounds rumbling in the back of his throat until the fight is left from him and his arms go slack.

Powerlessness. That’s a feeling you can understand. Powerlessness especially when you know you are capable of so much more. You wouldn’t say you sympathize with this creature; not after he attempted to intimidate and threaten you; but you think perhaps you have a greater understanding of him than you had just moments before.

“Maybe we can help each other.”

He stares down at you with narrowed eyes, hackles raised like a jackal’s yet he waits for you to elaborate.

“You demanded my servitude, but that’s not really what you want. A willing human making wishes on your behalf would be beneficial, but it’s just a means to an end. You want your freedom.” You see your own reflection as you stare into his eyes. You look more confident than you feel. “And I can give it to you, for a price.”

“Of course,” the creature says, eyes narrowing and mouth settling into an unkind smile. “And what do you want in exchange? Riches? Powers of your own?”

You pause, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. You think of what you want, what you would do if you did not have to worry about the limits of mortality. You think of growing up with an empty belly, of a sick and impoverished family, of the children that are forced to steal bread from food stands and the punishment doled out by the guards who spend their nights within the luxurious palace walls.

“The sultan lives fat and happy in his extravagant palace, safe and comfortable with armed guards around every corner while people die starving in the streets.” You pause. Eyes close as you take a deep breath. When you open them back up, they are filled with fire. “I want him dethroned and beheaded. I want a revolution.”

The creature watches you with narrowed eyes, expression not quite a smile or a scowl and impossible for you to read.

“With your help, with your power, we can save Agrabah from an incompetent leader who is either ignorant or indifferent of the suffering of his people. And, in exchange, I will wish for your freedom.” You hold your hand out to him. “Deal?”

Vaguely, you recall the old fairy tales your mother told you, head resting in her lap and her fingers brushing through your hair as she told stories of devious djinn who twisted a man’s wishes and desires into something they would regret.

Slowly, a smile crosses the creature’s lips like serpents crawling through the sand. Dark fog seeps from between the cracks of his teeth, swallowing him in a plume of smoke like storm clouds.

When the smoke lifts, in his place stands a man, tall and thin and dressed in vizier robes. He takes your outstretched hand in his, fingers bony and grip tight. “It’s a deal.”

#ask #anon #sinning #disney #aladdin #jafar #sometimes romance is planning a political coup with your evil genie boyfriend #long post #BE GAY DO CRIMES #reader insert

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