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flowerandblood · 2 months

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The Fall from the Heavens (16)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, dirty talk, breeding kink, description of wounds and trauma, remorse ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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He remembered little of their journey back to King's Landing; it seemed to him that his conversation with Daemon, and before that with Aegon, had been a dream, and that it had all not really happened. Throughout the journey, he kept his cheek pressed against his wife's temple, feeling great relief but also fear.

He was sure she would run away.

He was sure she would let him down again, and some part of him wished she would.

Why?

When they reappeared in the Red Keep there were only a few hours left until dawn; he instructed his guards to convey to his brother as soon as he woke up, that he should call a meeting of the Small Council where he would be able to give a brief report of what had happened.

Afterwards, he and his wife both retired to his chamber, stripping out of their riding attire, speechless and exhausted. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, feeling a tightness in his throat, wondering why he felt tense, why he was not rejoicing.

He swallowed loudly as he realised that he had expected a betrayal on her part, because it would make things a lot easier for him.

He could then turn his back on her and her family once and for all, shed his illusions, become who he had been for eight years again.

It frightened him that now, when it was obvious that she had proved her loyalty to him, that she had chosen him at last, so many things remained unsaid, silenced, repressed.

He felt her uncertain gaze on him as she stayed in just her nightgown, heard his bed creak quietly under the weight of her body.

"My love?" He heard her soft voice and grunted, staying in only his breeches and linen shirt.

She twisted towards him as he lay down beside her on his back, placing his hands on his stomach, sighing heavily with exhaustion.

He shuddered when he felt her warm, soft hand on his – their fingers began to trail and rub against each other in the air, just like when she had come to him that first night after many years of separation.

"Speak to me, Aemond. Don't lock yourself in your mind." She said calmly; something in her words, in the fact that she sensed his anxiety made him swallow loudly, opening and closing his mouth several times, unable to get anything out. He finally shook his head, closing his eyes, deciding there was no point.

"Say it. Say all the things you've always wanted to say to me. Even if those words will only cause me pain. I want to know."

He opened his eyes, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad, a shiver ran along his spine.

"I will never understand how could you leave me then." He finally said in a voice filled with regret and venom – he felt her twist next to him restlessly, drawing in air loudly.

He didn't look at her, but he felt her hand tighten on his.

"That was never my intention."

"Then why?"

"My mother then told me to let you rest and calm down. That the guards wouldn't let me visit you anyway by order of the Queen."

"What a nonsense."

"I am speaking the truth. When I wanted to pay you a visit a few days later, Criston Cole sent me away."

He felt his heart stop at those words; his whole body tensed, his breath stuck in his throat as he finally looked at her with wide-eyed expression.

"What?"

He felt her thumb stroke his palm, her eyes looking at him pleadingly.

"I swear, five days after what happened, I came to pay you a visit. I came every day after that, but he always sent me away. He said you didn't want to see me." She mumbled, and he snorted in disbelief and amusement, shaking his head. He looked at her in shock, wanting to see anything in her face that could confirm that she was lying.

He swallowed hard, embittered, leaning the back of his head against the back of the bed.

"It doesn't matter. I needed you when it happened."

"I needed you too. When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother's guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that's how you felt." She said with weariness, sadness and indifference from which he felt an unpleasant squeeze in his stomach; he felt his lips part involuntarily, a hot, overpowering wave of shame surge through his body.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, just breathing, not moving or saying anything, her hand still on his, warmth and reassurance in her touch.

For the first time in eight years, they spoke honestly about what had happened.

"Why didn't you ever write me back?" She asked at last, her voice trembling slightly, as if the very thought of it made tears of regret rise in the corners of her eyes.

He clamped his eyelids shut, sighing heavily, this time it was his fingers that stroked her hand.

"I've tried. I tried so many times. But I was unable to fill the parchment because no words seemed to describe what I was feeling. I couldn't put my thoughts into sentences. Everything that came out from under my hand was the ramblings of a madman and ended up burning in the fire. Then it was too late. I didn't see the point." He said, not believing that these words had left his mouth; he glanced at her uncertainly out of the corner of his eye, a single, solitary tear ran down the side of her face.

"You didn't even let me explain myself. You didn't give me a chance despite the fact that I've never let you down before." She muttered, and he swallowed loudly, feeling an unbearable tightness in his throat.

"I know."

He took his hand from her grasp and put his arm around her – her body immediately clung to his, entwining with his like a vine, her face sunk into the hollow of his neck, his hand roaming lazily down her back while his lips placed warm, lingering kisses on the top of her head.

They fell asleep for the few hours separating them from dawn in their tight embrace, not like lovers, but like they used to when they were children, holding hands, their foreheads touching.

He felt how, as she awoke, her fingers stroked his cheek gently, her lips placed a warm, soft kiss on his, which he reciprocated with a low murmur of satisfaction, without even opening his eyes.

For the first time in eight years, he felt at peace.

For the first time in eight years, he felt relief.

His closest friend was by his side again.

They were both just dreaming of sleeping on when Criston Cole walked into his chamber announcing that the King had called an immediate meeting of the Small Council in accordance with his wishes.

He sighed heavily, rising slowly from his bed, ordering his servants to prepare a suitable tunic for him. He turned, looking at her over his shoulder, his broad hand stroking her bare calf with a soft, lazy gesture.

"Accompany me. Be by my side."

The sight of her walking behind him as the door of the chamber in which all those gathered sat opened before them did not satisfy his grandfather or his mother.

He pretended not to see their warning glances, instead ordering one of the servants standing nearby to place a second chair right next to his, where he took his seat, placing his sapphire ball in a niche in the stone table.

"Speak, brother." Aegon began without undue politeness or introduction. His mother, his grandfather and Criston Cole were all opposed to their idea, however Lord Lannister and the other houses supporting them were far more accepting of the news that perhaps the whole matter of succession would be resolved without a bloody, kingdom-destroying war.

"Our uncle is as brazen as I remember him to be, however, despite his misgivings, he has not declined our offer. He will certainly pass on our words to our sister. We must wait." He replied truthfully; his mother sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands.

"What if no son is born to you, Aemond? If it is officially the sons of Rheanyra and Daemon who become heirs, they will kill us all for treason." She said with impatience, grief and horror – he opened his mouth to reply, however his wife forestalled him.

"You may have killed the child in my womb who could have been the heir we so need now. We will never know, will we?" She sneered, and he felt an unpleasant shiver run down his back.

His hand clenched into a fist at the mere memory of what had happened and what she had done next. He looked at his wife's face out of the corner of his eye and swallowed hard, seeing in her expression strenght, determination and confidence.

Just what he needed.

Complete silence fell, his mother lowered her head, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"As I said, we have to wait. We have done what we could."

The fact that Aegon had agreed to try to come to an agreement over the succession did not mean that either of them were going to give up preparing for a possible war, so they spent the rest of the meeting discussing what they would do if that plan failed. The King then asked his wife to leave; she rose and left without a word, touching his shoulder with her hand beforehand.

Something had changed between them, he could feel it.

As he watched the door close behind her, he realised that after she had decided to come back with him instead of running away with Daemon, after what he had confessed to her the wall that had been piling up between them since the night he had tamed Vhagar had finally collapsed.

When he returned to his quarters he did not find her there, so he headed for her chamber, informing the guards that no one was to disturb them. As he stepped inside he noticed her figure sitting by the window, bent over the embroidery of the Arryn family crest; the sun was beaming down on her face, he could feel a pleasant summer breeze all around her.

She lifted her gaze to him and smiled in a way he knew, one he remembered well from when they were children; what touched him in that look, in that smile, was the confirmation that she felt the same as he did, that she knew that something had finally changed between them, had set in on the right track.

He approached her slowly, involuntarily extending his hand towards her cheek; he watched as she pressed her face into his skin rough from holding the sword and sighed quietly as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his palm.

Gods, how he loved her.

He took the cloth from her hand and set it aside, grabbing her waist and lifting her, seating her in front of him on the top of the old wooden table. She stared at him with her eyes wide open, surprised, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath, betraying her uncertainty and excitement; he took a step towards her, so that their faces were almost touching, cupping her cheek in his palms, so soft, so warm.

She smelled of vanilla.

He looked at her, at her bright, warm gaze, at her gentle face, which had so much of that childishness of many years ago in it, while being more mature, more girlish, more tempting; her dark lashes shone in the sunlight as she closed her eyelids feeling his thumb run slowly over her fleshy, moist lower lip.

She was his wife.

What he wanted had truly come true.

She stood before him again, his childhood friend, his lover.

"Rheanys." He whispered and she opened her eyes, looking at him in disbelief; he saw her cheeks flush, her body trembled all over with delight. She raised her hand and he moved away immediately, horrified when he realised she wanted to grab his black eye patch.

"No."

"You're my husband. That's enough." She said regretfully and tiredly, taking his face in her hands. He looked down at her, breathing heavily, his eyebrows arched in uncertainty, in shame, in fear.

"Don't spoil this beautiful day for me." He said at last in a low, hoarse voice. She pressed her lips together as if his words caused her pain, her fingers sliding down his jaw, dropping powerlessly.

"One step forward, two steps back." She said softly, and he swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in his throat at her words. He sighed loudly through his nose, licking his lower lip with his tongue, fighting with himself.

He didn't know what had happened, what had changed, what had brought him to reach up to his face, to grab his eye patch and pull it off with a sudden, aggressive movement, throwing it impatiently to the ground.

He saw her raise her shoulders high, frightened by his sudden gesture, her lips parted in disbelief, her pupils narrowed as she looked straight at him. He expected her to turn her face away at this sight, to betray herself with a stare full of disgust or fear, but instead her eyes turned red from the tears that had gathered in their corners.

"Come." She whispered, grabbing the material of his tunic with her hand, pulling him closer; he involuntarily took a few steps forward, shocked by her reaction, by her expression, as if what she had seen had moved her greatly, but not in the way he had expected. "Come here."

Her hand lifted higher, to his cheek – he closed his eyes, feeling his whole body freeze as her fingers ran gently over the line along which his scar ran.

"Oh, my dearest, you must have suffered so much. It must have caused you so much pain. For so many, so many months, you must have died every day. Forgive me." She mumbled out in a trembling, breaking voice, from which he pressed his lips together, himself touched for some reason, embittered and grateful at the same time, because for so long he had been waiting for that very look, that very touch and those words from her, just from her.

She kissed him in a way she had never done before – it was neither a child's kiss nor a lover's kiss; it was a caress full of warmth, moisture and care, a tenderness from which he involuntarily closed her in his arms, leaning lower to press himself tighter to her swollen lips.

Their mouths brushed each other lazily, slowly, unhurriedly, as if they had all the time in the world, their hands stroking each other's faces with gentle, calm movements, birdsong all around them, the loud conversations in the courtyard coming from behind the open window and the quiet, sticky clicks of their saliva.

He felt himself shudder each time his lips pressed against hers again, their arms holding them close together, his lungs filling with her scent.

Vanilla.

His manhood slowly began to swell and throb from those wonderfully this innocent caresses full of promise, something they hadn't done before but so desperately needed.

"Make love to me." He whispered into her mouth; she moaned softly, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, forcing them to join together again in a hot, lazy kiss, which he did eagerly.

Only after a moment did their tongues come out to meet each other, their tips beginning to lick teasingly making them both breathe louder; his hands slid lower to her gown, lifting its material higher, exposing her wonderfully soft, bare thighs.

He let her take care of him, undoing the buckles of his tunic and the tying of his breeches as he kissed with emotion her forehead, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her temple.

She was his.

It seemed to him that they had gone back in time, to that day when she had kissed him for the first time.

As if what they were doing now was an extension of that moment.

"Do you think we would have persevered until marriage? With staying in chastity." He gasped, sighing quietly in relief when her skilled fingers finally released his desire-sore manhood, his arm drawing her closer as her thighs spread eagerly before him.

He heard her giggle softly, when he lifted his gaze to her he saw pure joy, warmth and love in her eyes, exactly as they had been then, that day.

"If you want, you can believe it, uncle." She replied tauntingly, just as she always did, just as in his fantasies; he snorted at the thought, sinking his hand into her warm womanhood, already leaking with desire. She tilted her head back, sighing with pleasure as his fingertips ran over her throbbing, moist slit.

"What do you imagine would happen?" He continued on, teasing her with the movements of his finger, which slid a little between her tight, wet muscles, pushing them apart, rubbing her rough bud hidden just above her opening. A soft, sweet moan came from her lips as she swallowed loudly, looking up at him from under half-closed eyelids.

"One night, when I would visit you in your chamber, we would begin to touch. Innocently at first, but eventually you would understand what it feels like to clamp your fingers on the soft breast of your beloved woman. You would understand what pleasure lies deep between my thighs." She cooed sweetly; he gasped loudly, embarrassed by how hard his cock pulsed at her words, which did not escape her attention.

"You'd say you wish to feel me just for a moment −" She whispered, with a gentle flick of her hand directing his swollen, hard length between her thighs; they both moaned quietly as he began to push against her and opened her wide on the thick head of his cock with a soft, firm thrust of his hips. "− but we would both know it was a simple lie, spoken only to make us feel less guilty."

A throaty, low groan escaped his lips at that thought; his hands clamped down on her buttocks covered by the material of her gown, with a deep thrust of his hips forcing her to let him inside her. She whimpered, panting heavily along with him, looking at him with her mouth wide open, as if she didn't recognise him.

She put her hand around the back of his neck, the other resting on the table top, trying to catch her balance as he began to root into her with slow, lazy thrusts, sliding out of her almost all the way, only to sink back between her warm, moist muscles a moment later.

"− Aemond −" She mewled, closing her eyes, responding involuntarily with the rocking of her hips to his treatments – it seemed to him that they were both in a state of some kind of ecstasy that nevertheless had more to do with what they had shared when they were children than now, when they were united by fire and blood.

"− and what would you do? − hm? − what would you do if I put it inside you and told you I wouldn't stop until I filled you? −" He breathed out, involuntarily quickening his pace; she moaned pleadingly at his shameless question, her fleshy, hot core clenched tightly around his erection, sucking it inside her, their bodies slapping against each other with loud smacks of skin against skin.

"− I would beg for your seed −" She mumbled out; his hand tightened on her hair at her words, his lips clinging to hers in a greedy, hot kiss full of their tongues and saliva, in a caress not filled with hatred and aggression but pure, hot desire.

"− so fucking beg −" He growled into her mouth between their quick, loud kisses, their lips with a sticky click clinging and pulling away from each other as their bodies found their own pace to pleasure, his thick cock pulsing with desire slamming into her so deep and fast that he seemed to run out of breath, her cheeks and lips all pink with exertion.

"− please, uncle − put your heir inside me −" She whimpered helplessly and that was enough for him – he pressed his forehead against hers, panting loudly, holding her close in a strong embrace in his arms, with a few sloppy, sticky thrusts prolonging the inevitable to finally spill deep inside her. He feel a powerful orgasm shake her body, her head tilted back with a sweet cry of pleasure.

"− yes − yes, oh, gods, uncle, fill me −" She mumbled, her hands drawing him back to her mouth, their lips devouring each other in fierce, moist kisses as the last drops of his spend filled her womb. They both rocked their hips for a while longer with loud clicks of her wetness, panting quietly as they tried to calm their breathing, their hands roaming over their bodies, their eyes closed, focused only on the relief they both felt.

"− this is how I always imagined us − you and me when we were married −" She whispered, and he sighed, understanding what she meant.

Though united by passionate affection, regret, distrust and grief dominated their every approach.

"− my wife begging for my seed is indeed an important part of my vision of a perfect marriage −" He sneered, noticing the amusement in her eyes when she understood that he was teasing her.

That he had returned to her, that she had won him back, that she was looking at the boy she had lost that night.

Her lips parted in disbelief when she noticed that the corner of his mouth lifted upwards, gently, not mockingly, not maliciously.

He smiled.

For the first time in so many years.

He stroked her cheek with his hand as her eyebrows arched in pain, as her eyes glazed over from the tears that ran down her face one by one onto his warm palm.

They kissed again, then again and again, warmly, tenderly, innocently, devotedly, with the affection he had dreamed of for so many years and he thought, hiding this realisation deep in his heart, that this was the happiest day of his life.

The day he got his best friend back.

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bvidzsoo · 6 months

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Lust we both share

◆Vampire!Seonghwa◆

TW: cursing, blood, suggestive

◆Read this before reading this one or else it won't make much sense, trust me◆

Word count: 6,1k

A/N: I have no idea what to call this lol, a drabble? I really don't know, but I swear to God ever since I've written that request for Halloween (@seonghwasbobaeyes repectfully this is your fault haha, so uhm, I hope you enjoy the short part 2?) this Seonghwa has been plaguing my mind and yesterday I decided, why not, I'll write some more and see what happens lol. I might write one more part like this one, short since I don't want to turn it into a full story. Lol, I hope y'all enjoy it! Feedback is appreciated!

1. Moroi-are born vampires, imbued with the magic to have power over the elements;

2. Dhampir-are half-human, half-vampires who are born to protect the Moroi. Don't have elemental magic, but have enhanced strength and senses making them the strongest protection against the Strigoi;

3. Strigoi- are the type of vampires that one would expect from an old horror classic

Everything went back to normal after we returned from the one-week long test. Seonghwa continued being his usual self, arrogant, and awfully annoying. And I continued ignoring him as best as I could and making fun of his existence behind his back. Seeing him everywhere I went suddenly became even more infuriating compared to before the whole test, and I couldn’t decide whether I was paying more attention to Seonghwa now or if he was everywhere on purpose. His words held an unsaid promise, ‘One or two won’t, indeed’, and I couldn’t help but feel on edge almost all the time. For some unexplainable reason, I expected him to show up in the middle of the night and suck my blood dry, leaving me dead in my own bed, only to be found in the morning when Seonghwa has already had time to flee and cover his tracks. It didn’t help that I started having nightmares too with him showing up when I least expected it, when my guard was down, his eyes crimson red and face smeared with blood, face oddly pale. It looked like Seonghwa, yet at the same time it didn’t. He didn’t look like his usual self in the nightmares, and sometimes it made me ponder that, perhaps, I wasn’t seeing the Seonghwa I knew. The moroi Seonghwa, but a strigoi turned Seonghwa. That thought didn’t sit well with me and it also scared me. When did I start caring about his safety? Was that one week spent with him long enough to mess with the chemistry of my brain? Or was this the doing of his vampire venom? Was I already addicted? Was my body craving for more? I couldn’t decide, nor quite understand my own thoughts and wants, and that scared me. It’s not like I could go and talk to Kazuha about it, a moroi drinking from a dhampir was strictly forbidden, and no matter how tight and close our friendship with Kazuha was, I knew she’d snitch on me to the Principal the second she was out of my sight. I knew she loved me, but she followed the rules quite strictly and anything which went against them and she caught whiff of it would be reported immediately. And besides, I just simply couldn’t talk about it. A dhampir offering up their blood willingly was…something like prostitution. I would be called a blood-whore. Everyone would look down on me and cast me out. I wasn’t afraid of being on my own, but I couldn’t allow such thing happening in my last year at the Academy, right before graduation on top of it all. Three more months and I would be free. Three more months and I wouldn’t have to see Seonghwa’s face ever again. Or that’s what I thought.

As I walked down the fancy corridor, headed towards the Principal’s office, all kinds of thoughts ran through my mind. Perhaps he found out I was the one who pulled that prank yesterday in hand-to-hand combat class. Or perhaps Jennie finally told on me to the Principal that I always pick on her. Or perhaps someone spread another obnoxious rumor about me. Or perhaps…everything was fucked because the Principal somehow found out what Seonghwa and I had done while we were away. Did Seonghwa have it in him to tell anyone about it? I knew he liked to boast about anything he could, but this…this thing was serious. It would ruin my life, but it could taint his own reputation too. He wouldn’t say anything about it, right?

I sighed and stopped abruptly in front of the Principal’s office; door wide open. Great, I couldn’t even collect my thoughts before I stepped inside. He was a moroi, so he has already heard me approaching, he swiftly glanced up and beckoned me inside. I tried to remain calm, aware that he could hear my heartbeat and would instantly pick up on it. I didn’t want to give myself away if perhaps I wasn’t called here for facing the repercussions of my actions.

“Good evening, Miss Lee.” The Principal said with a smile and I nodded, sitting down across from him. His desk was huge and made of oak, it looked extremely expensive, but when the Academy had good funds, I guess he could afford it, “How have you been? Haven’t had to call you to the office in quite a while.”

I chuckled, rubbing my hands together to distract myself, suddenly my heartbeat picking up. Don’t panic, he seems to be in a good mood, “I have been behaving, Mr. Yoon. I’m doing quite fine lately, stressed about the graduation.”

The Principal hummed, rubbing his chin as if he was confused, “Good thing you brought that up. It’s why I called you here to talk.”

Fuck, what about it? I cleared my throat and my body suddenly tensed, but I leaned back in the chair, trying to look nonchalant about it.

“You know Park Seonghwa—it would be hard no to—” The Principal’s eyebrows suddenly rose as my heart somersaulted, and I cursed myself for reacting so quickly. I cleared my throat and looked away embarrassed, avoiding eye contact as the man grinned at me. Why was he bringing Seonghwa up? Did he know? Did he somehow find out? Did Seonghwa tell him?, “I see hearing his voice alone makes you quite—angry.”

For someone who could hear my heartbeat and pick up on body language, the Principal misread my reaction quite badly. It made me chuckle as I tried acting like I was angry, since that’s what the Principal thought I was feeling like, “Yes, well, everyone knows how I feel about Seonghwa.”

“Indeed,” The Principal chuckled and quickly became serious soon after, “well, you might have to work on your differences with Mr. Park, because he requested for you to be his guardian after graduation—”

“What?!” I nothing but shouted as I sprung up to my feet, feeling angry for real now, mouth hanging open, “He did what?!”

The Principal only looked amused as he stared at me, waiting for me to sit down, but I couldn’t. My blood was boiling and my muscles were tense, I couldn’t sit still. So, I walked behind the chair and started pacing up and down, chewing on my lower lip as the Principal chuckled again, way too amused by my dismay.

“I see you left a deep impression on him during that one week of testing, Miss Lee, it’s impressive.” The Principal started, face coated in surprise, “He came in very determined and confident today, formular about his request in his hands and already completed. He even kept a long speech about how serious you were about your duties and how safe he felt with you, never having to look over his shoulder or fear for his life. Everyone knows you’re an exceptional student at the Academy, Miss Lee, even if a little bit mischievous, but Mr. Park’s words were a rather pleasant surprise. I’m very pleased to see you evolve into a mature and responsible dhampir, and I can’t wait to forward the request to the Queen—”

“No!” I exclaimed, looking at the Principal wide-eyed, “What—what if I refuse his request?”

“You know you can’t do that.” The Principal reminded me of the protocol, I knew that, but I really didn’t want to become Seonghwa’s guardian. Spending one week with him was one thing, but spending who knows how many years with him would be pure torture, “At least not until you have guarded him for five years. After that you’re free to decide whether you want to continue guarding him or change to someone else.”

“Can’t I decide right now that I don’t want to guard him for the next five years, Mr. Yoon?” I asked defeated, closing my eyes and running my hands through my hair. This was really bad. It didn’t help that my hair was all knotted up from the wind and I pulled on the tangled strands painfully with my fingers, adding only fuel to my anger. I really couldn’t deal with anything right now.

“I’m afraid not, Miss Lee,” The Principal chuckled as if I had said the joke of the year, “Thank you for coming tonight, though, a special request like this hasn’t been done in decades at our Academy. The Queen will certainly be proud of you, there’s few female dhampirs and to have you so talented and dedicated is indeed something to be proud of.”

I couldn’t care less about the Queen and what she thought about me, this was horrible. Suddenly, I didn’t want to graduate anymore, “Am I dismissed?”

“Of course, go enjoy your night, Miss Lee—” I turned and basically sprinted towards the door, but the Principal called out, “Not too much, though, I know about the party!”

That was least of my problems right now as I stormed down the hallways, headed for my shared dorm with Kazuha. Perhaps getting called to the Principal’s office for misbehaving suddenly sounded so much better than for what I got called in just right now. I couldn’t believe Seonghwa followed through with his words just because I let him taste my sweet blood. God, I am such an idiot, if I never allowed him to drink from me this would’ve never happened. I did this to myself, and I couldn’t help but feel desperation crawl all over my body and rage fill my veins as I saw red, Seonghwa’s name like a chant echoing through my mind, wishing for nothing more than to put a dagger through his heart.

Kazuha wasn’t in our room when I had returned, which made my state worsen as I threw everything off my desk, screaming and punching my least favorite pillow for five minutes straight. I wasn’t always good at managing my anger, that’s why I was so good at training classes. I channeled all the pent-up rage and frustration into fighting, beating everyone, even the largest and strongest dhampirs at our Academy. Despite wanting to scream for longer, our next-door neighbor banged on the shared wall and shouted for me to shut up and go for a walk, making me scream back a fuck you, before I stormed inside the bathroom and took a cold shower, wallowing in nothing but despair as I refused to cry. I wouldn’t cry about something like this, all I had to do was find a way to sabotage myself of being Seonghwa’s guardian, but not the point that I wouldn’t be able to guard anyone else. Perhaps if I incriminate him with something forbidden I could get rid of him, but these thoughts were currently pushed to the back of my mind as Kazuha and I were huddled together in a quieter corner of the room, with me retelling everything the Principal has said. She was tipsy, but she paid close attention, her eyes wide and mouth open as she ignored a guy who tried pulling her towards the drinks table. I cast him a glare before he hurried off, sending me nasty looks that I didn’t bother to care about.

“Are you serious about Seonghwa wanting you to be his guardian?” Kazuha repeated for the third time, and frankly, I was getting fed up.

“Yes! If you ask once more, I swear to God, I will punch you.” I threatened and Kazuha laughed.

“I’m just too shocked to accept reality—and perhaps tipsy too, but—this sounds like a nightmare for you, Y/N, I’m really sorry.” She said with a pout and patted my arm, feeling sympathetic for me. I scoffed and crossed my arms, my grip around the red cup tightening.

“Sounds like a nightmare for me? Doesn’t it for everyone?!” I exclaimed, but it went unnoticed as the music was blasting through the speakers loudly and everyone around us was busy with whatever they were doing.

“I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but the other dhampirs at our Academy would kill to get to be Seonghwa’s guardian. He’s filthy rich and will most likely inherit his father’s business, meaning you won’t ever have to overwork yourself as he will sit in a fucking office chair, doing nothing all day long. And on top of that, his family doesn’t live in a moroi community, so you won’t have to worry about seeing a strigoi too often, Y/N, you quite literally hit the jackpot with him.” Kazuha’s voice sounded slightly tinged with jealousy, but I knew it was the alcohol making her feel like that, “Imagine if you got paired up with San, who likes hiking, and lives in a remote area somewhere in the mountains! Y/N, that’s literally where nests of strigois live, I’d rather die than spend the next five years with San—or Wooyoung, for that matter! Jesus, that guy never shuts up—”

“Speaking of the devil!” I groaned as Wooyoung bounced over, two red cups in his hands.

“Here you two were!” Kazuha and I turned to look at Wooyoung quite unimpressed, his mouth pulled into a lazy smile, quite obvious that he was drunk off his ass.

“Wooyoung, I told you to leave me alone—” Kazuha started, but Wooyoung pressed one cup against her lips, making her cringe away from the strong smell of whatever alcohol he had mixed in there.

“Baby, did you forget about our bet?” Suddenly, Wooyoung’s lips pulled up into a smirk and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. I looked at Kazuha with a questioning glance, having not heard of this up until now. Kazuha looked uncomfortable for a second as she glanced back at me and then sighed.

“Fine, lead the way.” She muttered, but thanks to Wooyoung’s heightened senses, he heard her and chuckled, turning around to lead the way to wherever they were headed. I raised my eyebrows at Kazuha as she glanced back at me with a pout, but she only shook her head, meaning that she’d explain later. I watched as my best friend walked off with the moroi she had to protect during the week of testing, her shoulders pulled back and strut straight, signs of her tipsiness all gone. I shook my head and downed the rest of my drink, needing a refill immediately. I had to stop thinking about Seonghwa and the request.

After some dancing and chit chatting with other dhampirs from my classes, somehow, I found myself involved into a truth or dare game. Ten of us sat in a circle and spun the bottle, daring each other stupid and outrageous things, hollering with laughter whenever someone said or did something stupid. I was positively drunk by now, but I was aware of what was happening around me and to me. It’s why I decided to be the boring one for the first time while playing this game, and opted to only take truths. My hyper senses were dim due to the alcohol, and it was hard to keep up with everyone around me, not as alert as I usually would be. It’s why I didn’t notice Seonghwa sneaking up behind me as I had stood up, ass numb from sitting for so long, stretching out my legs. The question I had to answer was, “Have you ever done something forbidden, and if yes, what was it?”

“Forbidden as in—school level forbidden or—by law forbidden?” I asked with a smirk and the guy who asked me previously shouted out that ‘law forbidden’. I hummed and shrugged, pretending to think about it for a moment.

“Nope, I might do stupid shit but I’m not that dumb—” The chuckle got caught in my throat as an arm sneaked around my middle and a chest was pressed against my back. I didn’t have time to freeze or to even throw the other person over my shoulder before a hot breath hit my neck, cold lips pressing lightly against my ear.

“Are you sure about that, love?” My body went rigid, breath catching in my throat. After Seonghwa drank my blood we haven’t spoken as I did everything I could to avoid him, and he seemed fine with that, not particularly fond of spending his time with me.

“Get off.” I snapped and wrestled myself out of his iron grip, heart beating franticly and throat dry all of a sudden. Silence settled upon the group I was playing with as they watched us curiously, expecting a fight as it often happened when Seonghwa and I talked to each other. He seemed so smug as he stared me down, pink hair slicked back, and white shirt unbuttoned until the middle of his chest, showing off his milky and flawless skin. I scowled at him, fighting the urge of punching the smirk off his face.

“Playing without me?” He suddenly addressed the group, looking at them boredly. I rolled my eyes and collected my cardigan from where I had been sitting, wearing it as I had no intention of continuing playing the game with Seonghwa here. With the alcohol in my system nobody could stop me from beating his ass up.

“Wanna join?” Someone very drunk called out from the group and Seonghwa shrugged one shoulder, not looking too interested as his eyes fell back on me.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked, taking in my attire as his eyes ran up and down my body. Despite being fully covered and dressed, I was wearing black jeans, a black crop top and now the velvety cardigan, I felt exposed under his gaze. I could’ve sworn his eyes flashed crimson for a second, but perhaps it was a trick of the party lights around us.

“I’m not in the mood to see your face tonight, Seonghwa—”

“Pity,” He hummed, fake pouting, “I really wanted to run over some clauses our contract will contain once we both graduate—”

“Fuck you, Seonghwa,” My blood was boiling again, and thanks to the alcohol, I found myself all up in his face, glaring up at him furiously, “I will do anything I can to stop it from happening.”

Seonghwa’s eyes slightly narrowed, his icy long fingers suddenly wrapped around my wrist. Why was he so cold? And why did the corner of his lips look slightly red? Like something was smudged. Did he—just come back from feeding? The sudden tinge of my cheeks made me curse myself, and I hated how my heart picked up just from the thought of it. I felt dirty.

“That’s a pity, Y/N, my mother already spoke to the Queen about it, and she was delighted to hear such amazing news.” My jaw clenched and I yanked my wrist out of his grip, storming past him as our shoulders crashed together, leaving me fuming.

I did everything I could to avoid Seonghwa at the party, and so, that led me to dancing almost the whole time. I was feeling the music and the vibes as I moved to the beat of the music, even found some random dhampir to make out with. As long as we didn’t do anything stupid, it was fine. A dhampir shouldn’t mingle with a dhampir, but we were only enjoying ourselves, it wasn’t anything serious. But I started feeling tired after a while and decided to take a breather. I sauntered over to the bathroom to freshen up a little bit, only to talk to myself in the mirror when I saw my reflection. Drunk me was rather funny as I scolded myself for drinking too much, suddenly remembering that I hadn’t seen Kazuha since she walked off with Wooyoung. Did they even come back? Finding her became my next mission, and so I was walking around the place, looking for my best friend. My head was spinning and if I wanted to see the people’s faces clearly I had to lean in very close, getting weird looks and glares as I did so. Turns out finding Kazuha was harder than I thought. Then, I realized that I should probably peek inside some rooms around the place where the party was held, we were on the side of the campus which wasn’t used anymore. But my plan might’ve not been the smartest idea as I saw some unwanted things, but still no sight of Kazuha. There was one more room I had to check before I would head back to the party, and when I pushed the door open, I realized it must’ve once been a study room as it held three desks and chairs, the room coated in darkness. There was nobody inside. But before I could walk away, I was pushed forward and I stumbled inside the room, almost losing my footing as I gripped onto the chair, startled. I gasped and turned around sharply, having to squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds from how badly my head started thumping. The person inside didn’t turn on the lights, and as I opened my eyes, I took in the man standing in front of me. I could see well in the dark, and I could recognize that silhouette anywhere. I groaned as I went to push Seonghwa out of the way and walk out the small room, but his arm shoot out, making me run into it. I threw him a glare, but he just looked down at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What are you doing?” I snapped, jaw clenching as Seonghwa leaned to the left, where his hand was, and narrowed his eyes at me.

“I saw you wandering around mindlessly—”

“I wasn’t wandering around mindlessly,” I scoffed, “I’m looking for Kazuha.”

“She’s busy with Wooyoung, no need to look for her.” Seonghwa said nonchalantly and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Do you know what’s happening?” I asked accusingly and he shrugged, removing his hand from the wall and blocking my path with his body now.

“They are probably fucking, love, that’s what’s happening.” My face pulled up into disgust. I desperately hoped the bet didn’t have to do anything with that outcome.

“Great, you can fuck off then.” I muttered with a fake smile, but when I tried sidestepping Seonghwa, he blocked my path again.

“Not so fast, Y/N, we have some catching up to do.” Seonghwa said with a smirk, stepping closer, making me step back. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him, feeling unsure all of a sudden. What did he want? Why was he here?

“No, we don’t.” My voice was firm, but Seonghwa just chuckled as he reached out for me, holding me by the waist as he pulled me into his body. The breath caught in my throat as his body heat warmed me up, his sweet scent intoxicating. His eyes were rimmed with eyeliner and I gulped as they flashed crimson, red swirling in his irises. Could he…want something from me? At that thought my heartbeat picked up and Seonghwa inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily, flustering me. His plush lips parted, and when he opened his eyes again, his eyes were a deep red, almost glowing in the darkness. I didn’t feel scared, even though I should’ve as his features turned hungry, menacing even.

“You smell so fucking sweet it makes me lose my mind.” He let out a long breath, leaning down and nuzzling his nose against my neck. I grew stiff, mouth parting as my breathing picked up, memories of that night returning. Seonghwa said nothing else as his hot breath fanned my neck, covering my skin in goosebumps as I gripped his bicep with my right hand.

“I don’t—you can’t—” I didn’t know what I wanted to say, I didn’t know what to do. My body felt hot and electrified by Seonghwa’s proximity, yearning for something more. But we couldn’t let that happen again. It was a mistake the first time too. Seonghwa hummed in understanding, perhaps thoughts straying in the same direction as mine, and instead, I felt his warm lips press feather like kisses up to my jaw. My grip tightened around his bicep as he pulled his head back, staring into my eyes as his own flashed between red and their usual brown.

“I know we can’t.” He whispered and then perhaps we both moved at the same time, but our lips were pressing against each other as I leaned up on my tiptoes, Seonghwa’s head ducked down to reach my height. My arms wrapped around his neck and his hands around my middle as he pulled me into himself, mouths hungry as they moved against each other passionately. I couldn’t help but breathe in his scent, nose pressed against his cheek as Seonghwa’s lips pressed bruisingly against mine, eager for more. He walked me backwards until my legs hit the desk and I was climbing up on it, Seonghwa’s hands guiding me. His hands gripped my cheeks and fingers dug into my skin painfully as he sucked on my lower lip, making me hiss when he wouldn’t release it. He was trying to draw blood and I yanked my head back, glaring at him. He stood between my legs and one of my finger’s hooked against his belt as Seonghwa pressed closer, lean body pushing against mine. He tilted my head back, biting my earlobe and slowly kissing down from there to my collarbone, making me let out long sighs, my grip on his hip tightening when he sucked harder on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, finding my sweet spot. I moaned quietly as Seonghwa’s tongue licked at the mark, his teeth suddenly biting down against my skin. I jumped and body tensed in reaction, ready to fling him off myself, but his fangs never shirked and no pain followed. He was probably fighting against his own urges, trying to control himself. I pulled his head back and Seonghwa’s jaw was clenched as we stared at each other, his breathing ragged as he looked like he hadn’t drunk blood in years. It didn’t bring as much dread as I expected it to, but my heartbeat picked up again and Seonghwa quickly crashed his lips against mine, kissing me hungrily as his tongue pushed past my lips and I sucked on it, making Seonghwa moan into my mouth, sending an electric shock through my body. I pulled his body closer as our tongues danced together, lapping at each other’s mouths, Seonghwa’s body just as affected by our actions as mine as my hand briefly brushed against his semi-hard on. I kissed him back more eagerly, more messily, making Seonghwa groan into my mouth as suddenly his hand was gripping my neck firmly, pushing me backwards. I allowed him to do so, my back arching as his free hand was placed on the small of my back, flushing our lower bodies together. My hips moved on its own as heat pooled up in my lower stomach, needing some friction as Seonghwa groaned, his own hips grinding down against mine, making me grip onto his pink locks tightly as he sucked on my lower lip harshly again.

“You have to stop doing that—” I panted out, words cut off as Seonghwa ground against me again, harsher this time. These clothes on us were getting frustrating and I felt Seonghwa’s grip on my throat tighten as I went to undo his belt.

“Not tonight,” He choked out, gripping my wrist harshly, making me hiss. But I didn’t listen to him as I palmed him through his pants, his grip around my neck close to cutting off my air, perhaps that would bruise by tomorrow, “Not tonight, love, I’m on the brink of losing control.”

My jaw was clenched as I allowed Seonghwa to take my hand away and pin it against the table, “Fuck, I hate you. Why would you start something you can’t finish—”

“If you want me to suck you dry while I fuck your brains out, then by all means, Y/N, let’s keep going.” His voice was hard as he snapped and I finally opened my eyes, looking up into his crimson red ones. I didn’t think his eyes could darken anymore further, but the look on his face made fear root deep into my bones. My senses kicked in, and suddenly, my hand was around his wrist which was holding my neck, muscles tense as I calculated the best way to free myself without doing much damage to him. Seonghwa sensed my change in demeanor and loosened his grip on me, but still didn’t let go.

“I don’t plan on killing you, you can relax.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t feel like it right now.” I snapped, eyes narrowed as Seonghwa chuckled and the grip from my neck disappeared as he instead held my chin with his thumb and forefinger, raising my chin up. He stared down at me with a smirk, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Despite your body sensing danger you’re still here in my arms, enjoying whatever I’m doing to you, don’t you?” I couldn’t help but glare at him and slap his hand away, head clearing enough to realize I was just about to have sex with Seonghwa had he not stopped us. I felt even more hatred towards him as I yanked my other hand out from underneath his as pushed him back by his chest, but Seonghwa didn’t budge. How was I weaker than him? That was impossible. Seonghwa just chuckled and leaned down, resting his hands on both sides of my knees.

“I like to play the damsel in distress, love, but it doesn’t mean I’m actually one.” His words were mocking, and suddenly, I realized I had no idea who Seonghwa was. Well, who the real Seonghwa was. I gulped as I watched him reach out and pull a strand of hair behind my ear, tilting my head up as he leaned down and pressed a long kiss against my lips. I didn’t react at first, but when he deepened it, my mouth opened automatically and I was back to making out with him, the pace a lot slower this time and more sensual. My heart was racing and body jittery all over again, but this kiss didn’t last for long as he suddenly pulled back, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why did you let me drink your blood?” He suddenly whispered; voice strained. I gulped, but my mouth felt dry as I realized I didn’t have a real reason other than a very dumb one.

“I—I was curious—” When Seonghwa’s eyes opened, I felt ashamed of myself, “I was curious of what it felt like.”

Despite expecting him to call me names, his jaw just clenched and his eyes flashed red again, “I should have known better. We made a mistake, Y/N, I—I can’t feed off of humans like before anymore. Their blood isn’t enough—the taste, it’s terrible.”

My eyes widened as I gaped at Seonghwa, trying to understand what this meant. But I really couldn’t, I didn’t know how morois worked, I didn’t know what would happen next or what he was supposed to do to fix the situation. Despite knowing better, the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could think more, much like last time, “Are you hungry?”

Seonghwa froze for a second before he nodded his head rigidly, jaw clenching as his eyes fell onto my neck, “Starved.”

My breath caught in my throat and our eyes connected as I chewed on my bottom lip, body flaming at the memory of what his bite felt like. My mind was suddenly silenced and all I could think about was the feeling of his fangs as they started sucking my blood, making me gasp. I couldn’t be already addicted to his venom; it would be too soon. But was it possible that Seonghwa would get addicted to my blood? I’ve never read about such thing before. As Seonghwa let out a long sigh I pushed my hair behind my shoulders, and bared my neck for him. He huffed, but his finger ran along my skin, his eyes seemingly mesmerized by the action.

“Seonghwa—” His name came out in a throaty breath and before we could think more, his mouth parted and his fangs poked through, head leaning closer and closer to my neck. My body tensed when his breath hit my skin and I leaned my head further back as he pressed a soft kiss against my skin, much like last time, teeth clamping down on my skin, fangs pushing deep inside my flesh. I yelped and my grip on the table tightened until my knuckles turned white as the pain lasted longer this time, Seonghwa took his time before he started sucking, before his venom spread through my bloodstream. His cold fangs felt very uncomfortable and I whined as my neck went numb, on the verge of asking him to stop, but then suddenly, I felt him sucking on my blood, a hand coming up to hold the side of my face. Seonghwa moaned loudly when my blood entered his system and I sighed as suddenly my head felt fuzzy and mind empty, jitters all over my body as goosebumps covered my skin. The warmth was back in my body, heath pooling in my stomach, as Seonghwa drank more, pushing his fangs even down deeper, making my mouth open in a silent mewl, feeling like his fangs touched a nerve as pleasure exploded in my body, vision blurred and eyelids heavy as my brain felt fogged up. If it weren’t for Seonghwa holding my head, it would’ve fallen back, and his grip tightened when suddenly my body softened, momentarily having lost feeling of all of my muscles, dark spots covering my vision. He was drinking too much, my body wouldn’t hold on for too long as I went numb against him, unable to speak or pull away. But Seonghwa knew what he was doing and suddenly stopped, fangs still in my muscle, breathing hard against my skin. My head started spinning even worse than before as the dark spots very slowly cleared, and I hissed as he pulled back, cold fangs disappearing from my skin as his eyes glowed a light red in the darkness as he shook my head lightly.

“I’m—here.” I muttered, gulping multiple times, letting out a shaky breath as my body regained feeling, muscles tensing all of a sudden, brain on high alert as it pushed away the euphoric feeling. The crash from the high was worse this time as I felt nausea pool in my stomach and I gagged, slapping a hand against my mouth.

“Are you alright?” Seonghwa asked alarmed and I took a deep breath, fighting the urge of throwing up. I probably needed water. I have drank too much alcohol. I nodded wordlessly as Seonghwa helped me off the table, but supported my weight, “Alright, I’ll take you back to your dorm.”

“I can go on my own.” I muttered as my head spun harshly, forcing me to take deep breaths.

“No, you can’t.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes and suddenly I was up in the air and then secured in his arms, held bridal style. My eyebrows furrowed as I threw him a glare, but Seonghwa ignored me as he went to open the door, “I can’t decide if you’re about to fain or throw up, you clearly can’t walk.”

“You took too much this time.” I whispered as he hurried down the hallway, his longs legs allowing him to take long strides.

“I stopped in time.” Seonghwa’s jaw was clenched as he briefly glanced down at me, but I just shook my head.

“You still took too much.”

“The marks will be gone by noon.” He changed the subject as he walked out onto the courtyard, the crisp air of the early morning was refreshing and I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath.

“You have to fix your problem, because this won’t happen ever again.” I hoped Seonghwa understood, he had to. He could kill me anytime by accident. Or I could get addicted and then my whole life would be ruined. Or someone could find out and we’d be fucked, me, especially.

“I know, it won’t happen again.” Seonghwa was serious for once and we shared eye contact briefly before my body suddenly felt too exhausted, tried to even keep my eyes open as whispers of how this was a huge mistake lulled me a to dreamless and restless sleep.

Dread filled me as a voice whispered in my head that this wouldn’t be the last time this happened.

Masterlist (divider)

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miguel-ohara-wifey · 10 months

Text

Coming out to the spiderverse men as Asexual Headcanons

💜🖤🤍

Rating: Fluff, angst, Hurt + comfort, suggestive

Tag list; @alliwriteistrash More spider noir for u

Peter B Parker

-Peter’s a New Yorker, he’s been around every and all kinds of queer people. So when you told him you were Asexual, he had a decent idea of what you meant. There was no explanation needed.

-It made sense, you liked making out with him and general physical touch. But if he slipped his hands under your clothes you’d flinch in terror and say no. You were always guilt ridden when you rejected him. But he didn’t mind waiting if it meant that much to you.

-But now what scared you made sense, it was a matter of not wanting it at all. You were terrified this would mark the end of your relationship. You describe your romantic past as every relationship having a clear expiration date. The minute you said you didn’t want sex, how sexual pleasure wasn’t something you could provide. The man would leave.

-And it didn’t necessarily make any of them bad people, they just wanted physical intimacy with emotional intimacy. Most of your exes were understanding, most. So it’s the endless domino effect of disappointment, followed by the agony of believing to be incomplete. That stopped with Peter as he hugs you in the midst of your bawling confession.

-Wiping away your tears and jokes how it’s stupid to think that would get rid of him. Sex isn’t what he was after with you two, it never will be. Sure he’ll miss it, but not even a fraction of missing you if this was to end. You were relieved, Peter will stay for as long as you’d have him.

“Come on honey, there’s nothing missing with you…in fact we’re all missing out on you being ace-“

Miguel O’Hara

-Miguel found out on the second date, when he would usually put the Rizz on the lady. However as you pushed his hands off your ass. You swallowed your fear, expecting an impending break up. After you told him you were asexual, and what asexual meant.

-He was eerily quiet, this was unusual. He was just thinking and listening with no emotion on his face. With the seriousness sprawled on his face when it came to spider people business and the fate of the multiverse. When you insisted he say something.

-He just nodded, saying okay, and going back to cuddling you on the couch as you were watching Netflix before his advances. Your nose wrinkled in shock. No anger? No disappointment? No confusion? No demands for sex anyway? Miguel just sat casually as you got up. Asking what he’s playing at.

-He answered simply it doesn’t matter to him, if that’s who you are he’s decided to respect that and back off. You almost felt like crying, but the shock dissipated and fell behind your face in place of the tears. He smiles to reassure you, what was the peak of emotional vulnerability, by tone what sounded like a shameful secret.

-To Miguel was nothing different than saying you love pineapple on pizza. Bizarre but not a big deal. After a few moments of awkward silence as that realization hit. You leapt onto his lap, kissing him silly as he reciprocated ten told.

“Of course bebita, alright now I wanna keep watching Derry Girls.”

Hobie Brown

-Hobie had gotten the memo you weren’t into the whole sex thing. It wasn’t a deal breaker for him, you and him would talk if there was an issue, no issue there’s nothing to discuss. A lot goes unsaid but that’s okay. You just get each other that well without words.

-However it didn’t prevent the misplaced guilt you possessed. You felt a cut in your chest that somehow you were deceiving him. In some world some people are owed a coming out.

-You decided to go along with it anyway, so you told him. And he laughed, patting your back. Declaring that’s metal as fuck. “Sex sells”, gender roles, the seduction of monogamy, none of that applies to you by default? Badass.

-Then he’d go back to his smoke, it was quite a Hobie reaction. He lives up to his chaotic appearance. And you by all honesty didn’t know if you were to be mad, impressed, relieved, or all at once. You never quite know with him, and you don’t suspect that’ll change.

-However a burst of tender warmth grew in your ribcage, you never thought of your identity that way. How so much of what makes society fucked you can see by your very genes. You were badass.

“OI! My girl never need no dick or pussy!”

Spider-Man Noir

-Noir needs an explanation on this one, he doesn’t quite understand not wanting sex. Or just never feeling the compulsion for sex. He does the work to be understanding even if the concepts foreign to him.

-He takes notes in what turns into a one on one lecture, he only asks what you’re comfortable with. And always ensures you still like kissing, hand holding, cuddling, activities like that. Hes extra nervous now than he would be usually in any romantic relationship.

-He knows your needs in this area are special, to him sex was never a buzz in his mind like it is for others. Sure he likes pretty women on beer bottles. But he doesn’t act entitled to sex and would never coerce you just because you’re his woman. Whenever shitheads would make comments or jokes, or say how you’re banging on the side and using him for his money.

-No hesitation he’d resculpt there face with his fist. Your relationship isn’t there business. And he certainly doesn’t have money anyone would wanna use him for. What you two have works, even if he doesn’t fully grasp everything. He tries everyday, and never pushes you past your limits.

-Since he literally goes around in a trench coat with a spider costume under it while monologuing to himself like a movie protagonist. You’re safe in the fact he’s not one to care what others think anyway.

“Darlin…you’re more precious than any broad I could take home…”

#miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #spiderverse #spiderverse hcs #hcs #headcanons #Spider-Man noir x reader #peter b parker x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman noir x reader #hobie brown x reader #Hobie brown #Spider-Man 2099 #spider punk #Peter B Parker

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goggles-mcgee · 5 months

Text

A Little Birdy Told Me 20

AO3

Beginning Last Chapter

Summary: Damian continues to try and get more information about the akuma class and Marinette while Dick is having an off day and just wants it to get better.

Only one brother gets what they want.

CH 20:

Damian may have jumped the gun on that one.

He admitted that, willingly, in the privacy of his own mind.

“To Dupain-Cheng? I mean sure but why would you like to know.” Chloe asked with narrowed sharp eyes.

Bourgeois was sharp, as were all his acquaintances so there was no point in lying, though he was confident he could do so flawlessly, his acquaintances had proved to be somewhat trustful. They all kept secrets if asked unless it was something trivial which confused him to no end. Allegra could ask they don’t tell anyone what she shared with them when it came to her having trouble mentally or her parents fighting but the group would tell almost everyone in the group how Claude had a crush on so-and-so from class-whatever. Richard said that is just how teenagers and friends are but it didn’t make sense to Damian and he tried many times to make it make sense. The only thing that made him feel better is the fact his father also didn’t understand. When he was in med school he told him how his study group kept his fear of bats to themselves but when he admitted to not being a fan of some musician that that information was shared and laughed at, but he stated clearly that the laughing wasn’t at him, just at the information as a study group member had explained. Again. It was strange, but Damian felt like this wasn’t one of those moments that they would share his information with others.

“It goes without saying that what I tell you does not leave this table,” he began, “I know I said that if I knew something I wouldn’t tell, but given Bourgeois’s forthcoming, I too can be a little forthcoming. Dupain-Cheng is now a ward of my Father for the rest of the exchange.”

Vogel nodded and glared at everyone at the table as if to ward them off even thinking of telling anyone what Damian was saying. It was…nice and appreciated. Vogul reminded him of Cassandra sometimes and it always left him feeling warm yet wrongfooted. The blonde wasn’t his sister but sometimes she felt like it and that also confused him. Nonetheless he gave Vogel a small nod of appreciation. “After the events at Wayne Tower and what followed, it was decided that my father take care of Dupain-Cheng for the remainder of the trip and actual chaperones are being flown in. The original plan of having the class merge with ours has been effectively thrown out the window and negotiations are being made where to place everyone as they will be separated. Dupain-Cheng and her friends will join our class but it hasn’t been decided where Rossi and her sycophants will go.”

Allaway pursed his lips together and looked deep in thought, it was like he was trying to organize everything that was said and unsaid. He was someone who liked puzzles and mysteries. “You guys are building a case?” It was posed as a question but Damian knew the other boy better. It was a statement. Damian simply leaned back in his chair to give Allaway his attention, it took the boy some time to voice his thoughts so Damian waited before responding. “The question is, who is the case against?”

“I would think that obvious by now Allaway.” Damian scoffed.

Allaway stared at Damian intensely until he let out a deep sigh, “Yeah, I know, I was saying it to be dramatic.”

“You’re always dramatic.” Damian countered.

“No. That’s Claude.” Allaway shot right back.

“Guilty!” Hardy sing-songed. Damian conceded. Hardy was always dramatic. Every announcement he made to the group or even the school was so rich in dramatics that Damian wondered if the boy practiced what he said every day to make sure it was the perfect amount of dramatic or if it was something instinctual. Damian felt like it was the latter. Sometimes Hardy’s dramatics confused him but Vogel was good at explaining what the dramatic boy was saying, she was basically the Hardy Translator.

“We are getting off topic.” Bourgeois sighed. “You really want to know everything that witch did to Dupain-Cheng, Wayne? Then you better buckle in and take notes.

Damian nodded and pressed the hidden button on his watch that Lucius Fox and his son Lucas upgraded at Bruce’s request, that would record the rest of the conversation. Though he did take out a notebook and pen, he never wrote in pencil, writing in pencil showed you were not confident in your writing or knowledge. He was trying to break out of the habit though as it was one Ra’s made sure ‘stuck’ with his heir. His grandfather would never settle for anything less than perfect and the one time Damian took a test in front of his grandfather and used a pencil, he was punished. Damian hid a wince at the memories of that particular lesson and instead stared at his watch, it was a replica of his Grandfather's watch , the one he wore when he was murdered. It was a bit morbid but it was the thought behind it that made it one of Damian’s most prized possessions.

It had been a little after he had been…introduced to his father and a little before his father’s seeming demise at Darkseid’s hand that Bruce had taken Damian aside into his study to talk to him. Damian thought it would be another reprimand of his methods but had been surprised when Bruce handed him a small box with a bow on it. He had been so hesitant, so wary, so suspicious that his father had gently taken the box from him and opened it to show a watch. A rather nice watch though Damian had noted its somewhat dated design. Like someone had purposefully made it look vintage. “ It’s made to look like my father’s watch, your grandfather, though I have no doubt you were…informed of my parents before you came here -”

“ I know everything about you, Father, and my grandparents .” Damian had interrupted, eager to prove his knowledge, his worth.

“ I don’t doubt that, Damian, but you were told about them by people who did not know them. That makes all the difference. There is time for stories so you get to know them like I knew them but this is the first one I will tell you. ” Bruce had looked sincere yet a bit uncomfortable, Damian had chalked it up to his father’s weakness of not getting over his parent’s death. Such a weakness was not allowed in the League, but Damian had said nothing of the fact even if he could. Richard had been teaching him just because you could doesn’t mean you should. It was confusing but his father seemed to agree with the sentiment so Damian was doing his best to learn it.

His father continued. “ When my father was ten, his father bought him his first watch. I never met my grandfather, but when I was young, my father told me grandfather wanted to start a new Wayne tradition. When the heir of the family turned ten, they would be gifted a watch. I’m afraid that the reason is lost in time and forgotten memories but my father wanted to continue this tradition. I got my watch on my birthday and 9 days later my parents died. My father had been wearing his birthday watch that night .”

Damian hadn’t wanted to interrupt but he did want to touch the watch and his father seemed to understand that so he passed back the gift and watched as Damian had caressed the face of the watch with his thumb.

“ I admit that I have bought your brother's watches as well but I know you are struggling to accept them. I won’t lie and say I understand but I want to feel connected to them, to me, to this family. I wasn’t able to give you a watch on your birthday but I am giving it to you now. I had this made for you in the image of your grandfather’s watch because I want to show you how important you are to this family and me. I could have easily given you a new watch as I had your brother’s but you deserve a connection to your roots. I hope you like it. ”

Damian had only nodded but the small smile his father gave in return had filled him with such warmth he hadn’t known what to do other than let his father put the watch on him. Later, Alfred would explain that Bruce had the watch built with many hidden features to keep Damian safe and to make sure his son wouldn’t be without a way out of a situation. The watch was made to resemble the Rolex Submariner that Damian had seen in a case along with a broken pearl necklace and some loose grimy pearls. He knows they were keepsakes of his grandparents that Bruce kept in a protected case in the Cave. He didn’t really believe it would make him feel any more connected to the Wayne name than him already being Bruce Wayne’s biological son but wearing the watch and seeing the original in its case when he was down in the Cave actually did make him feel connected in a way he couldn’t explain. Thus it became one of his most prized possessions much like his first straight double edged sword his mother gave him for the earliest birthdays he could remember.

Damian inhaled slowly then exhaled to bring himself out of his memory before he looked up at Bourgeois and gave her a short nod. “Proceed.”

___________________

Dick was doing all he could to relax and show Marinette the company’s botanical gardens as it was something she had wanted to do. It was good to see her smile and flit from plant to plant like a little honey bee or something, but Dick couldn’t get rid of his tension completely. He was always like that after dealing with Two-Face even if it wasn’t the usual confrontation between the two, i.e mask to two faces but it still left him feeling the same. Angry, restless and most annoyingly, scared. He wasn’t the same little scared Robin but dealing with Two-Face always made him feel like he was. He thought he worked past all that! But seeing Marinette in his arms with a gun pressed to her head brought uncomfortable flashbacks of a different tiny black-haired blue-eyed child. A child who got cocky in his skills as Robin and helper of Batman. He could still feel the long-since healed injuries throb in phantom pain. Dick couldn’t help the flash of another black-haired blue-eyed child, older than the first when he learned that being Robin wasn’t magical or whimsical. Thinking of that never did him any good, if anything it brought about an enormous amount of guilt and anger that Dick didn’t know what to do with.

“Mari-gold?” A very familiar voice pulled Dick out of his thoughts and he cursed himself for being so distracted.

“Ivy!” Marinette shouted out in glee as she ran to hug the woman she had seen fairly recently. It made Dick smile though, this kid loved with her whole heart and it was something he admired.

“Now what are you doing here, Sapling?”

“I came here with Mister Dick and Mister Tim. Though we lost Tim pretty early on.” Oh yeah, they did. Though Dick was willing to bet Tim just went to the coffee shop nearby, he seemed to have a built in radar for knowing where they were no matter what part of town they were in. It was kind of funny though since Tim wasn’t even a big fan of coffee, he more so just needed the caffeine. The guy preferred tea but he was really particular about which places made the best tea, specifically a good ol’ Dirty Chai.

“And what brings you to the Gardens today, Ive?” Dick asked, deciding to partake in the conversation.

“Oh just making sure they are doing okay and to give the workers a restock of my special fertilizer.” That made sense, Ivy was, on-the-down low helping the Wayne Botanical Studies team. While Harley helped them more with their night time business, Ivy was content to help in the more official business. With the occasional helping hand stopping a threat if they “got in over their heads.” Her words.

“You make your own fertilizer?” Marinette asked. Look, Dick was also curious about that but after finding Ivy and Jason talking one night with these big-ass smiles on their faces, all teeth, he was like 80% sure that fertilizer was some of Jason’s…problems. But there was no way in hell that Dick was going to try and confirm that, and he sure as hell would not be telling Bruce that little theory.

“Yes! It takes time but it-”

“My Passion Lily! I got your Matcha Lemonade and look! I found a wild Wayne.” They were interrupted by Harley, which was not a surprise, and she was dragging a resigned looking Tim with her.

Ivy merely huffed out a laugh at her wife before taking the offered drink with a kiss to Harley’s cheek. “Thank you, Peanut, I also found a wild Wayne and a little Sapling.”

“Mari-Doll!” Harley squeaked out before almost knocking the poor girl off her feet in her hurry to smother the girl in a hug. Surprisingly they didn’t fall over.

“Hi Harley!”

“You guys saw each other the other night?” Tim said, confused.

“And?” Marinette and Harley asked in unison. It made Dick giggle and helped relieve him of more of his pent up tension.

“Well since we're all here, why don’t we walk around together?” Dick offered. “Bruce wanted Tim to get some fresh air so try not to let him sneak off again.”

Tim gave an offended squawk which had Marinette laughing once more. “I’m fine!”

“Yeah, okay Timmy-Boy.” Harley said with a scoff as she laced her arms together with Ivy and Marinette. “And I’m the Queen of England.”

“You do need some time outside the Manor Tim. It’s not healthy to stay cooped up.” Ivy said as she happily walked with Harley and Marinette. Though she did grab Tim by the scruff of his shirt and manhandled him toward Dick. He looked very much like a cranky kitten.

“What is this? Pick on Tim day?”

“I believe Damian has that scheduled for next month.” Dick wished he was joking.

Marinette obviously noticed he wasn’t if her raised brow was anything to go off. “Oh?”

“He stepped on Titus’s tail three months ago, on accident.” Dick explained. “But Damian is very good at keeping grudges and he’s very good on cashing in on favors.”

Tim merely whined in response and Dick couldn’t help but pity his brother for a second before he remembered how Tim used him as a human meat shield when Condiment King randomly joined in on a fight against some robbers. Apparently he was also planning on robbing the jewelry store after keeping a low profile from his then-recent prison break. Needless to say it took Dick forever trying to get the mustard smell out of his costume once again and had to beg Alfred for help once again. Even though Alfred refused to help with cleaning anything CK contaminated, it spiked his blood pressure or something like that. Dick thinks it’s because of all the first times he helped clean them up when the rogue had been new on the scene. That had been a long month and Dick had seen how Alfred got more and more annoyed each time they came home covered in mustard, ketchup, you name it. It was awful. Truly. So Dick didn’t feel all that bad. Stephanie was already coming up with a list of things to tease Tim about. She specifically waits for the days Damian declares will be Pick-On Drake Days so she has lists on lists compiled for that very reason. She hoards them and never shares until the scheduled day. Duke surprisingly joined in too and started making his own list.

“He’s very dedicated.” Marinette giggled out.

“That’s one word for it.” Tim grumbled.

From there they had a good time touring the different gardens with Ivy acting as a somewhat tour guide and Dick could see it was really helping Marinette unwind as well. The interview with Jim and Harvey had really gotten her tense which was totally understandable, it would be intimidating for anyone. Tim tried to escape a couple times but after Dick teasingly asked if he should get Tim a child-leash and Ivy offered to make one out of vines he stopped. He even seemed to be relaxing a small bit. It was nice, really and it seemed to be something that Dick needed too without realizing it. Eventually they went out for lunch and after they went their separate ways. The drive back to the Manor had been nice too, normal traffic and a nice playlist helped. Tim and Marinette had even made some good conversation, though Dick got worried at the mention of PowerPoints. He hoped it was nothing serious, but the fact that Tim found someone as obsessed with planning and making PowerPoints was a little frightening. Maybe more than a little, Dick could only take so many Tim PowerPoints. He loved his brother, dearly, with his whole heart, but his PowerPoints were long and…thorough. He even tested people on the more important ones with a freaking Kahoot match. Cass and surprisingly Damian always won those.

As they made their way into the manor Dick was pretty much planning on taking a good, lengthy nap to catch up on the sleep he hadn't gotten last night. His brain felt fried and scrambled, like it couldn’t decide whether to sink into the depressing thoughts from before or just remember the good time at the gardens they all had, even Tim surprisingly had a good time. As he sunk into the couch in the family living room his mind seemed to settle on both. His eyes closed and he saw Marinette laughing and smiling at their afternoon activities, then it would flash to her being held against Two-Face. He could hear the rogue’s laugh deep in his bones, then it changed to the Joker’s unique cackle. Marinette changed from her to him to Jason at blinding speeds. He could hear Marinette’s voice firm and confident in contrast to the fear in her eyes when she told him there was no time and that she would lead Scarecrow away. He could hear her yelling and telling Alfred she and they weren’t safe. He heard his own cries and shouts mixed with Two-Face’s voice. He could hear what he imagined Jason sounded like when the Joker beat him to death. He could hear the accusations of others about his jealousy of Jason being adopted.

That unfortunately brought up memories of the talk he had had with Bruce once upon a time about Jason and adoption. It felt like he had had to fight not only tabloids but even Bruce about nonexistent hatred. Dick never hated Jason, but he had been so caught up in his anger with Bruce that he let it affect his and Jason’s relationship. He had just been so angry and it wasn’t an excuse but sometimes it seemed like he was even trying to justify his actions to himself. Though there was some jealousy and hurt there that he didn’t know what to do with, okay he did know what to do but the fact it would have to involve talking to Bruce and Jason was not something that sounded fun nor easy. He liked a good challenge but that idea sounded impossible. Like yes, he was Bruce’s son now but for so long he was just a ward, like Marinette was now, he called Bruce dad, they lived together, they fought crime together, they took care of each other, and yet it took years for Bruce to adopt him. But Jason? Dick knew Jason was Bruce’s son, his first son, his favorite son. Jason got the Bruce Dick had always wanted and it had hurt. Jason’s death had impacted Bruce more than his parents. That was a fact.

And…And Dick had no idea where this was all coming from. He knew he didn’t know Marinette well as her class’s tour guide but seeing her held against Two-Face, mere centimeters from danger had thrown him. She reminded him too much of himself and too much like Jason before his death. She wasn’t a Robin, she would never be a Robin, but she had been a hero like one. She saved her people as fiercely as a Robin protected Gotham and its people. She took the weight of her world on her shoulders, much like a Robin. She was a child turned soldier due to circumstance just like a Robin. Marinette was a Robin in soul with no Batman to guide her and maybe that was for the best but looking at how lost she looked when she spoke about the ‘akumatizations’ in Paris, Dick wished she had had her version of Batman. A mentor who could aid in the fight, who shared the knowledge and responsibility. Yes, there were other heroes, they were like her version of Teen Titans, but that’s just it she was just barely a teen, a child, when she took up the mantle of hero. And from the pictures Tim showed the family of the other heroes, it wasn’t hard to guess that the other ‘Holders’ were teens themselves. Seeing as Adrien was also a teen and a former hero.

Dick, in a weird, roundabout way, felt responsible for Marinette. As soon as she looked at him with hope, determination and fear in her eyes he was hit by a wave of protectiveness for her. She looked at him like Damian did when he first complimented and criticized his work as Robin, he and Marinette had also pulled off a plan as smooth and seamless as Dick and Damian had been when they were the Dynamic Duo. Or as Dick liked to call them, The More Dynamic Duo. He knew his family was kind of freaked out by how well Marinette and Damian seemed to get along, but not him, sure he teased a bit but he just had a feeling they would be friends. Damian had been trying to get himself out there and make friends and he did have some! He just called them acquaintances right now but Dick knew it wouldn’t be long till they were bumped up to friend status. Though Jon would always be Damian’s best friend even if they weren’t in the same school anymore. They still video or phone called every day and they played games with each other online. Which games? Dick could never remember but the point was, Damian had grown and was very capable of making friends, it just took him some time.

Speaking of time , Dick thought as his gaze lazily glanced at the clock on the wall. If he slept now, he knew he would not go to bed after patrol tonight. So with much reluctance he pushed himself up and off the couch. He figured he could see if Marinette wanted some company and maybe the two of them could get some tea and snacks from Alfred and tour more of the manor when they were done. It would help in the long term of Marinette’s stay so it was productive! When he got to her room he saw that the door was slightly open but it was still he knocked, if he could dodge a Pennyworth Lecture he would even knock his own bedroom door. As he did so though, the door opened more and with it came an overwhelming energy that left him feeling suppressed yet energized. He wasn’t around magic a lot anymore, but it always left him with the same feeling so he ditched being a gentleman and waiting for an answer and just barreled into the room to see what looked like a closing portal.

“Shit!” That would be a dollar in the Swear Jar, but that wasn’t important. What was important however was the fact Marinette was missing, a portal had seemingly opened in her room and closed, and…and there was a note on the bed?

‘Dear Any Wayne That Finds This,

Actually, are you all Waynes? I never asked, I should have asked. Anyways, please don’t freak out if you come to my room and I’m not here. Ladybug needed my help back in Paris and opened a portal to get me there. I shouldn’t be too long and hey! Maybe I’ll be back before anyone reads this but if I’m not then just don’t worry. Ladybug will return me once the akuma is dealt with.

-Marinette who is very sorry if someone does end up reading this and is pleading they don’t worry or get angry.’

“Double shit.” Dick said as he read over the letter.

That was another dollar for the Swear Jar.

_________________

Dick “Flying” Grayson @toflyistofall

Oops.

____

Bruce Wayne @therealbrucewayne

RE: Dick “Flying” Grayson @toflyistofall

Oops.

Richard John Grayson-Wayne. What did you do?

_____

JBIrd @sidesteppeddeath

RE: Bruce Wayne @therealbrucewayne

Richard John Grayson-Wayne. What did you do?

Ha! You got full government named Dickie! @toflyistofall

_____

Dick “Flying” Grayson @toflyistofall

RE: JBIrd @sidesteppeddeath

Ha! You got full government named Dickie! @toflyistofall

Oh come on! I didn’t even add tags! How did he respond so fast?

#hahaimindanger

Next Chapter

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cherish--these--times · 1 year

Text

Okay. BUCKLE UP.

To the people who say that we have no media literacy because we hoped til the very end that Ted and Rebecca would end up together: you can FUCK RIGHT OFF.

Recently, Hannah W. declared: "Is there chemistry beyond friendship? Yes, I think they do have that as well."

But beyond that, there were A MILLION OTHER WAYS they could have done the last season (and arguably season 2) differently than what they did to avoid any ambiguity as to Ted and Rebecca's relationship. They could have had them hang out all the bloody time and be the rock solid best friends in the world. Ted and Rebecca were never more than friendly co-workers since season 1 ended. That BFF, platonic bullshit was never a thing. If that was true, Ted would have had NO PROBLEM hugging the shit out of her in the stands in the last episode when she begged him to stay. Or again in the airport. They would have gushed over how they made each other's life better and it would have been beautiful and moving and perfectly reasonable. Instead it was loaded with unsaid stuff between two people who never dared to get too close to one another. Keeley was Rebecca's rock. Beard was Ted's. Ted and Rebecca were something else. They were connected in unfathomable, cosmic ways. A perfect set up for a romcom, even if you dislike the idea.

But okay, playing the devil's advocate here, if the platonic soulmates shtick was always the intent (and I don't care what people think, I'm not sure it was), why not have them fall in love with other people early on but keep them as a tightly-knit tandem? Why keep them apart so much throughout the show and both single for most of it???? Why even establish they were born to meet then they never see each other again at the end?? Romance aside, what was the fucking point of that??

Let's address your fucking condescension, shall we? I'll tell you what media literacy fucking taught me:

That Rebecca immediately sensing Ted was having a panic attack, following him, and missing him by a hair, is a classic trick for lovers in a "right place, wrong time" kinda way. If they didn't want to leave any space for ambiguity, she would have found him, comforted him and took him to Dr Fieldstone's office herself without this need to overdramatise and make us long for said comfort that she was unable but clearly desperate to provide.

That Ted texting her for the first time on screen (15 times!!!) because he wanted to hang out at night in a foreign city JUST WHEN SHE LOSES HER PHONE IN A CANAL is a classic SEE ABOVE!! Fuck all of you, honestly.

That one half of the equation carrying a matchbook in his pocket the other half had been obsessing over for months means he is the answer to her romantic quest. And before you go and say that everyone got a matchbook that night, THAT'S NOT THE FUCKING POINT. They chose to show that Ted, of aaaaaaall the people in the restaurant that night, had been carrying Rebecca's hopes and dreams in his pocket THE ENTIRE BLOODY TIME. It was an intentional, purposeful decision. They decided to drop that hot potato later on but you can't blame us for thinking it would lead somewhere!

That one half of the equation carried a trinket in her bag the other half gave her YEARS BEFORE, means he is the one for her. Why? Because this was something he gave her to make her feel safe! Letting someone wonderful love her without fear of being safe was the thing she canonically admitted she was afraid of in a ROMANTIC relationship! The fact that the army man happened to be stuck in the green matchbook was frankly TAKING THE PISS.

That Ted's official love interest having admitted she disliked his puns and having Rebecca laugh at one of his puns IN THE SAME EPISODE is meant to convey she's the one and right under his nose!

That her love interest for the night unloading his marital struggles on her unprompted just like Ted did, loving the same songs as Ted and making her tea that had the same impact on her as Ted's first biscuits means that what she looks for in a partner is right under her nose!

That having her bump into Ted in a corridor and both sensing each other in a choreographed dance MOMENTS after Higgins gave her a whole ass speech about how psychics could help her see in herself what she's missing means IT WAS ALWAYS TED. Don't even get me started on the fact that during said speech, the pink biscuit box was very conveniently placed just behind the green matchbook! A speech about her not seeing something about herself?? Uh??? FUCK OFF.

That Rebecca being told she will have a family and have her instigate Ted getting closer to his son and gushing over his mother is a clear indicator that she would fit in the Lasso household like a glove!

That having Ted canonically never ask for help and Rebecca being the one who doesn't need him to because she always knows when he is unwell means she's framed as being the right person for him. She also uses a trick his EX-WIFE used in the past for that exact purpose.

That their baggage matching right up meant they would have been perfect for each other. His biggest fear is being abandoned and hers is ending up alone. Ted and Rebecca were the logical option for a couple. Ted even had to begrudgingly admit it worked for Jane and Beard. The only canonically happy couple at the end (and ain't that fucking mental...).

That having the line "Remember to let her into your heart" from the Hey Jude song coincide with Ted looking down at his phone and seeing Rebecca's name means that she's the woman he should allow himself to end up with.

Why keep them both single and desperate for love until the very last episode? Why not have Michelle beg Ted to come back and Dutch Guy find Rebecca thanks to newspaper clips about football in Holland 10 episodes ago and be done with it?? Why even not have Rebecca pine for him on screen ever since they parted ways??

Everything in this show was intentional. You can't marvel over this fact for everything BUT Ted and Rebecca and suddenly claim we read too much into things! We were played. Multiple times. At various degrees. And it doesn't take being a fan of the show to see it:

An LA Times journalist made an article about the hints and clues in the show after she interviewed TedBecca fans. And she BELIEVED IT. She got convinced. She told Hannah W. in an interview.

Another journalist on CBR.com (male, so you can shove your "desperate women wanting the straight couple to be together at the end" where the sun ain't shining) lamented the way the TedBecca shippers were treated.

Keep your passive-aggressive posts to yourselves. We've been dangled a carrot since day one and just because we never got to eat it doesn't mean it was never there.

#tedbecca #ted x rebecca #ted lasso spoilers

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wulflynn · 1 year

Text

Cullen Rutherford Fanfiction Recommendation...

This is a list of AO3 fics that I've really enjoyed reading, and I wouldn't have found them myself if it weren't for other recommendation posts on Tumblr. There are still plenty more that I've yet to find that I know I'll enjoy, but as of right now, these have been amazing reads that I'm sure others are bound to enjoy as well if they're fond of Cullen c:

WARNING: pretty sure they're all rated for mature audiences, but if you click on any of these please check the tags to decide if you'd like to read any further.

I hope the formatting for this is correct, if there is a correct-or typical-way to format these recommendations. I just did it how it'd made sense to me *shrug. Correct me, otherwise. Teach me how to Tumblr.

Thank you to the authors for your creative prowess and for giving me permission to add your stories to this list! I'll add more over time, I'm sure. May you receive all of the kudos and feedback, and continue to find joy in creating your stories. <3

Wrong fandom but I'm always compelled to say, "kill write well...and often." x3

Updated 04/08/2023: A couple more have been added! c:

Summary: When the Inquisition disbands, Cullen disappears without a trace. After he is found begging in the streets of Val Chevin, his long-time friend and former lover, Mira, comes to find and bring him home. As she tries to help him quit lyrium for good, they discuss their past and finally say all the things between them previously left unsaid.

Summary: Everyone around her seemed incomprehensibly eager to have the rebel mages close the Breach. Never mind that it made her a funnel in some magical experiment, one that they didn't know for sure would even work. No, much better if they found the templars instead - for herself and for Myca. Yet it was only the suspicious commander who shared this view. Suddenly she had a reason to get on his good side.

Broken Song by Decim

Summary: Remy Hawke and Knight-Captain Cullen have been entangled with each other since their first meeting… she’s made sure of that. What started out as an ill-advised affair quickly grew into something more, though circumstances made that certain lines could never be crossed. Once she leaves the city and her position as Viscountess, they say goodbye for good, not anticipating that only a year later they will meet again when the world is coming to an end.

An alternate version of Dragon Age: Inquisition in which Hawke attended the Conclave and became the Herald, with flashbacks to Dragon Age 2.

Thank you to @decimdraws on Tumblr! ✨

Wander the Drifting Roads - Pt. 1 of Nothing Wrought Shall be Lost by mortonsspoon

Summary: After defeating Corypheus, Lavellan thought the worst was behind them. When Cullen is captured and exposed to red lyrium, the Inquisition loses its Commander and Lavellan loses the man she loves.

The two face diverging paths forward: Lavellan attempts to find purpose in life after the end of the organization they built together, and Cullen must find a way to come to terms with the darkness he's faced for a decade before he loses his memories of her forever.

Book of Memories - Pt. 2 of Nothing Wrought Shall Be Lost by mortonsspoon

Summary: There is a book in Comtesse Lavellan’s library in Kirkwall. It has been meticulously bound in leather, with the shape of a tall, spreading tree and a lion embossed on the front. Inside, there are a number of writings: recollections from a darker time, hopes and fears, and moments archived in writing for their own safekeeping.

Or: An anthology of what happened to Emmaera and Cullen before, during, and after the events of Wander the Drifting Roads.

*Tags will be updated as chapters are posted

Thank you to @shivunin on Tumblr! ✨

This is a series of works and I will post the description and notes rather than the summary like with others c:

Description: "When your skies are grey, and your whole world is shaking, to the Moon and back, I'll love you more than that."

Notes: A collection of short fics and drabbles about Cullen Rutherford and Eurydice Lavellan.

Thank you to @star--nymph on Tumblr! ✨

In Waking Dreams by AParisianShakespearean

Summary: They fall in love slowly during the war at the height of the Inquisition. During their romantic and eventually sexual relationship, the former Circle mage and former templar discover they love one another as more than the Commander and Inquisitor, more than the rose that survived and endured the winter, and more than a forgotten goddess of old. Then war, like everything, ends. They dream of dawn after stars. *** The love story between Inquisitor Lydia Trevelyan and her Commander. As the Inquisition begins and unravels, so do their own personal struggles, issues, torrid pasts, and feelings for one another. Sprinklings of other characters here and there. Slightly diverges from canon. Rated E for later chapters.

Thank you to @a-shakespearean-in-paris on Tumblr! ✨

Description: Take a look at the Thedas with Inquisitor Trevelyan, a noble, a mage and a leader. Her adventures weren't filled with just action and fighting, but it came with a hint of drama and romance - something the nobles would often gossip about.

Thank you to PoptartCandy (I'm not sure if they're on tumblr, but this can be amended if so)!

Summary:

Evelyn Trevelyan, once on her way to become a Senior Enchanter at the Circle of Ostwick, now an apostate, has had a very hard last couple of years. And it looks like she can expect to have very hard years ahead of her, too.

Luckily for her, she has plenty of experience hiding just how awkward, clumsy, and terrified she is of everything. Also luckily for her, she discovers that there are people she doesn't have to hide from. Friendships, family, and even love can be found and forged in the unlikeliest of places. Bridges are built to span the breach between warring peoples and hearts even as they fight the Breach in the sky and the one that caused it.

Yet another retelling of the adventures that occur in Dragon Age: Inquisition. Mostly canon, divergences are like a scenic route. Filling in the holes, building the friendships and relationships, and connecting the dots that we don't see in-game. From the light and playful moments to the dark and violent twists and turns, joy and angst, eventual smut, thus the M rating.

Thank you to Kartoonist (I don't know if they're on tumblr either, but if so this will be amended)!

#cullen rutherford #cullen romance #cullen x inquisitor #cullen x hawke #cullen x lavellan #cullen x trevelyan #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age inquisition #dragon age 2 #dragon age origins #cullen rutherford fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation

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raionmimi · 10 months

Note

I love your art of Setanta and Medb Lily, is there any evidence of them actually being childhood friends in the Ulster Cycle?

Short answer: Not exactly, it was just me piecing together timelines that are extremely vague and plot points that would make way more sense if fleshed out more. So I started making comics based on my childhood and kids I know for a surreal idealization that would be the catalyst for their problems when they fight in the war

Long Answer:

All that I know is that Fergus is 20-ish years older than Conchobar. Conchobar is older than Medb, who would have to have been in the 10~16 range and been officially married at 15-16. (I’m assuming she’d be about 17-18 when divorced because she was forced to bear an heir) Cú was 5 when he came to Ulster and about 7-10 when he left, but it’s never mentioned that the two talked to each other at that time since it’s not relevant to the story

But it would make sense that they met considering their relationship to Conchobar, who was Medb’s betrothed and Cu’s uncle. Even further, Cu’s warp spasm when he was 7 was stopped by Mugain, who was Medb’s sister. Meaning, Medb was probably there when it occurred, but there wasn’t a reason to mention her

Then in one story, Cú and his friends decide to get Medb and Ailill to be judges for their “Who’s the best warrior” competition. They figured they’d be the most fair, but this was prior to the war. How would they be familiar with the Connacht rulers since Cú doesn’t really spend much time with official political shenanigans? All three had to have known of Medb and Ailill before this event. Since Medb often hosted people from other kingdoms, namely Ulster, they probably have all visited her nation before

It all kind of leads back to Cú knowing Medb personally, which could give more emphasis and weight as to why he listened to all her demands/schemes and refused to harm/fight her in the war. It’s unknown if he knew what abuse was happening to her when she was married to his uncle or what his uncle did to her after they got divorced. BUT we do know his uncle directly confronted Cú and demanded him to kill Medb, and Cú said he refused to his face

Then you have Fate’s interpretation. Medb is treated more like a troublesome neighbor rather than a threat. Cú lets her off with a slap on the wrist more than anything. He tells you in a voiceline that Medb is one of the women he broke a promise to so he wants to be more reliable this time. Fate has never mentioned what promise he made Medb, even though you can guess what he probs promised Emer, Scathach, and maybe Morrigan. Medb says she wants to dominate Cú but she never does much to actually do that because there’s some invisible line drawn that she herself put down

In my brain, it makes sense that there is something connecting the two with an unsaid past. One that drives Medb to having mixed feelings about Cú (both hating him but not being able to leave him alone) and Cú to feeling like he has to be there for Medb. Something that neither really wants to talk too much about, and especially not with each other

The easiest connection would be them being friends at a young age when they met in the Ulster kingdom. They’re both lowkey unwelcomed as Conchobar abuses Medb for her refusal to yield to him, and he didn’t even want Setanta to join his army at first. He kind of hates and fears both of them. Makes sense for them to just be regular kids together to set up the dynamic change for later.

A shattered friendship is one of the most devastating things that could happen to a child growing up, and could easily warp to an obsessive hatred and lingering guilt. Leads to feelings like “You betrayed me,” “Why didn’t you take me with you?” or “I wasn’t there for you, I need to make up for it.”

I like tragicomedies a lot, so I think it’s the best foundation for both causing and healing the severe rift between them when they’re older

So no, there’s no actual source material that would outright say that they’re childhood friends, it’s just something that would make the most amount of sense when you go back and align the dots. At least to me in my brain

#tain bo cuailnge #magical college girl medb #retained memories #long post #i hope that makes sense #rip mobile users #I like creating happy memories of Lily and Setanta #because it makes Cú and Medb that much more tragic and angst ridden #like it’s one thing to be angry that a warrior won’t take you seriously in a fight #it’s another when it’s your old friend who pities you and won’t let you take out your anger on him because he cares about you too much #it just gives them more depth and clarity for their actions #they’re kind of a cautionary tale that parallels rin and shirou in a way I guess

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serial-designation-dz · 1 year

Text

Here’s the first part of the oneshot series I promised!

Stargazing - Part 1:

In which Delta-Z spends some quality time with her lost lover.

Stargazing had always been a source of comfort for the young berserker drone, but now, after finally breaking free from her old leader’s abuse, the stars looked brighter than ever. For the first time, possibly ever, Delta-Z felt safe. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her canine-modeled face, watching as a comet shot through the sky, the embers of its tail leaving a bright streak on the night sky. Copper-9’s nights were often cold and barren, the skies sealed off by an impenetrable layer of clouds, which made clear nights like this all the more precious to the young drone. Now, she perched on top of the entrance to the mineshaft her squad now called home, and watched the stars sparkle in the sky.

Z must’ve been staring at the night sky for hours when the sound of footsteps shook her from her stargazing induced stupor. She looked to where she had heard the sound, seeing her friend(?), Delta-Y. Her fellow wind berserker approached her cautiously, a confused smile on her face, “what are you doing out here, Z? Is something wrong?” she asked, her mouth curving into a frown at the thought of Z being hurt or upset by something. Delta-Z quickly shook her head to ease the older drone’s worries, a gesture that brought relief to Y’s features. Z looked back to the dark canvas of night, “I’m just looking at the stars.” the younger drone replied casually.

Blush lit up Z’s visor as Y sat down next to her, “I don’t mean to sound rude… but why do you stare at them so much? I’m not judging, just curious.” the older drone asked, remembering all the times she had caught the younger drone staring at the stars, but was too upset or scared to ask her why. Delta-Z struggled to describe her feelings about the tiny lights dotting the sky (though she knew that most stars were anything but tiny). She coughed up some static before finally finding the words, “they’re just so… pretty! And bright!” Z exclaimed, waving her arms at the sky, nearly falling off the mineshaft’s arched entrance before Y extended an arm and stabilized her. The pair giggled before falling silent again. After a while, the young drone decided to tell one of the more out there reasons for her habit, “they tell stories if you look hard enough.” and help me forget about what he did, was left unsaid.

Y looked at her companion in confusion, “stories?” Delta-Z nodded up at the sky, pointing excitedly, “yeah! Look! Those stars look like a bird if you draw lines between them!” Y looked to where the younger drone was pointing. Sure enough, the cluster of stars above formed an oddly shaped avian creature. Before she could ask more questions, Z pointed at another cluster of stars, “that one looks like a kitten!” she said childishly. Y couldn’t help but laugh at her companion’s antics; despite her memories being taken, Z’s personality had barely changed since the wipe. Makes sense; you can’t erase what’s important, Y thought lovingly. The younger drone lowered her hand, “I’ll bet they’re good friends, playing up there every night!” she said. Y smiled at Z’s naivety, but friendship was not typically the first thing that came to Y’s mind when it came to avian and feline relations…

The two continued to gaze at the stars and tell stories about the different constellations (though Z was much better than Y on that front, it was clear she had a lot of experience. Y wondered just how often she had been doing this.) for a long time. The sheer amount of stories Z came up with was staggering; a deer running through the woods while evading a predator, a butterfly soaring through clouds while looking for a friend, a fox digging through the earth for food; she had many stories in her head. Y was amazed at just how quickly she came up with things, X had truly been wrong about her intelligence. Y was acutely aware of the pair’s positioning on the old archway, Z having subconsciously leaned into Y’s shoulder without noticing. Y noticed, but she wasn’t about to push her away, she got quite a bit of enjoyment out of it.

Z stopped, before pointing at another constellation, “...that one kind of… looks like X.” she said quietly, Y not unaware of how downtrodden her voice became. Without thinking, Y wrapped a hand around Z’s back, pulling the younger drone closer, “we don’t have to make a story about him. What other stars do you see?” Y asked, not wanting Z’s mind to linger on her tormentor for long. Z simply nodded and looked around for more stories, eager to forget about her disgraced leader, but of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

The mere thought of X watching her from the stars was enough to throw the younger drone into a spiral. A spiral which contained every insult he ever threw, every punch she failed to dodge, every race she lost, every way she wasn’t enough.

Y was getting worried; Z’s stories had suddenly become much darker. It started with the deer getting caught, then the fox starving to death in a surprise famine…

…then the butterfly was doomed to be alone. Y knew that Delta-Z had to be projecting on that one.

After finishing off the butterfly, Y was surprised to hear soft sniffling from the younger drone. Looking down to her companion, her suspicions were confirmed: Z was crying, digital tears dripping down her visor. Immediately, her arms were around the younger drone, pulling the distressed berserker into her lap and wrapping her wings around them both protectively. All the while, Z muttered out a string of heartbreaking apologies, for whatever happened on earth, for forgetting her, for letting that family get killed by X, and, worst of all, abandoning Y. The older drone shushed her after that, none of what she was apologizing for was her fault, she knew, but Y also knew that Z wouldn’t accept that fact just yet. So, the two sat in a comfortable embrace, neither wanting to let go.

Eventually, the younger drone’s whimpers faded into quiet snores and her body went limp. Y looked at her now sleeping companion, scooping the girl up and hoisting her over her shoulders, as if giving Y was just giving her a piggy-back ride (which she used to do before the wipe). Quietly making her way back into their cave, Delta-Y set the younger drone down on the cold, rocky floor, before wrapping her up and taking her place as the big spoon.

Soon, there were two sources of quiet snores in the cave.

That was sadder than I intended, lucky there’s a happy ending!

#murder drones #murder drones au #murder drones oc #serial designation delta z #murder drones fanart #serial designation delta y #original character #serial designation delta x #angst #hurt/angst #hurt/comfort #fanfic #fanart #angst with a happy ending #murder drones fanfic

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cyberp-1-nk · 1 year

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Okay so here is more Varrick angst. So this could be a part two to "The Red", what I just wrote.

So when Vince yells at Varrick to leave, Varrick leaves and kinda vanishes, leaving a terrified Anni and a hurt Vince all alone to pick up all the broken pieces...figuratively and literally. Meanwhile Varrick is found by Zalgo, but Zalgo isn't there to hurt him, he just taunts Varrick and then says something that makes Varrick realize what hes done.

"Funny how you've lost everything like your friends, Anni, your own brother, and haha well...i'm pretty sure your sanity is long gone now too."

And Zalgo is just not letting up. He talks about how he hurt and scared Anni, how he made his own brother hate him, and it's almost like a flip is switched in Varrick's head and it all comes at him, all at once and Varrick says something like, "This..this was your doing! You made me do this..didn't you? and the truth was...yeah, it was all under Zalgo's influence, which explains the weird red glow that Varrick's eyes had when he was freaking out in the previous fic.

So he races back to the cabin and finds that Vince is still there along with Anni. Vince is obviously on the Offense when Varrick comes back and he doesn't want Varrick to hurt Anni again, and poor Anni is actually scared of Varrick and even flinches when Varrick tries to touch her.

It can go on from there however you'd like Anni and Vince don't have to accept his apology or maybe they do, but I will say that wherever it goes, its gonna end in tears and angst.

Tysm and if this is too much then let me know! No worries if it is!

[ The Red || P2. || simp party ]

Warnings; Angst..

Tags; @insane-horror-movie-addict

A/N; Varrick getting abused by @insane-horror-movie-addict part 2

Word count; 1,479

It was nighttime.

The demons were finally gone, Varrick had finally gotten rid of them for the time being.

Varrick sat in the damp, tall grass, his amber eyes fixated on the distance in front of him. His arms hung off his knees and his teeth were grinding against his cheek.

He hoped Anni was alright.

When Varrick left the cabin, everyone had seemed to disappear from the corner of his twisted mind, all except Zalgo, who'd always remain stuck to him no matter what. Like a parasite that refuses to let up.

He stood at the edge of the cliff, the stars above carelessly twinkling as an endless flock of unsaid apologies plagued his throat, with each cough that disposed of more blood, more threatened to emerge from his throat as time passed. Varrick's skin seemed to get paler, with dark circles from under his eyes, the rare sight of tears threatening to fall as he did his best to let them slip to his cheeks. In the bristle grass stood a tiny group of flowers, carelessly sweeping alongside the patterns of the wind. Anni would have liked these very flowers, he thought. The petals swept off of the cliff's edge with the aid of the howling breeze, the sound almost comforting in a sense.

He envisioned her brown eyes staring at him, and that amazing smile that warmed his blood. Was she okay? Did she hate him? Does his long-lost brother hate him? Was it really a good idea for him to separate himself from her? All of the questions and concerns rolled through his head like a destructive train.

Life would always be cruel to him. No matter how hard he tried, and just when he thought that he was given another chance, fate decided it would be better to take such a wonderful feeling for an awful turn. It felt horrible, but what could he do in a situation where all the cards were played against him? It was almost all too clear that no matter how hard Varrick tried to redeem himself, fate would always find a way to punish him. After years of enduring it, he had been convinced he might have been deserving of it. All these horrible things wouldn't happen for a reason, right? And with this new punishment against Varrick, came Zalgo.

From the small group of flowers, he picked a single one up, envisioning Anni. Suddenly, as he tried to pinpoint a specific memory when this had started, the soft laugh of a female rang through his ears. He had to look over his shoulder to assure himself the girl wasn't there, she wasn't and he was sitting alone on the cliff.

But he could hear her so clearly, laughing and teasing, and with this came the image of a smile so small and riddled with sadness that it could barely be considered a smile. He closed his eyes again, trying to get more clarity in his mind, and he visualized the girl again. With her long brown hair that she flicked away in annoyance when it got in the way. Her soft brown eyes wavering slightly as she stared off into the distance, entire stories would dance through her eyes in the silence. And her hands, roughened in patches with different thickness in certain areas. He still remembered how her softened fingertips felt

against his spine as they soothed him when he had a mental break-down. His eyes narrowed, letting the flower go as he turned his head around, knowing exactly who snuck behind him.

"The fuck do you want?" He sneered, glaring at Zalgo with a flicker of red igniting in his eye, "Haven't you ruined my life enough already?" His hand grabbed around the ground until it came in contact with a rock, grabbing it and chucking it at the hallucination in-place of Zalgo, "You couldn't even be bothered to actually come. Pathetic." Zalgo often couldn't directly come in contact with Varrick, since he had many important things to do, but that didn't mean he didn't force hallucinations into his mind. This hallucination stood in place for him.

"I'm afraid you're wrong about that, Smith." Zalgo let the same devilish smirk curl onto his face as he taunted Varrick, and slightly squinted his large red eyes into a brooding stare like always. "Funny how you've lost everything like your friends, Anni, your own brother, and haha well...I'm pretty sure your sanity is long gone now too. You ruined your own life, I was only here to simply…watch."

"Bullshit." Varrick hissed and mumbled more curses under his breath, spinning around to face Zalgo directly as he glared. "All of this," his eyes flickered with confusion, before it quickly sparked back into fury. "This..this was your doing! You made me do this..didn't you? You're just so fucking petty, you won't let go of the fact I'm not your fucking proxy anymore."

Varrick saw Zalgo's eyebrows twitch in annoyance, his nose wrinkling, and mouth twisting into a grimace. "That's enough, Smith—"

"No. You don't get to make that call. I'm no longer your proxy, so I'm not letting you control my life anymore." Zalgo stopped and saw the same, stern look on Varrick's face. He would not stir; he didn't even give her a second glance. "—I'm going to go make things right."

— . — . —

"What the hell are you doing here?" Vince tried to sound angry, and he was, but his voice cracked, revealing how sad he actually was. He loved his younger brother like no other— but after what happened, he couldn’t let him near here— near Anni.

"P-please just," Varrick sighed, taking a deep breath before flickering his eyes open once again, locking eyes with Vince, "I know I was an asshole. And I'm sorry— I truly am. I wish I could tell you what's going on, but right now— it's not the time, so I'm just gonna cut to the point," Varrick swallowed dryly as he looked up at his brother, "It's Zalgo. I was his proxy at one point, and ever since then— he's been fucking with my head. There isn't anything I can even do about it right now, so please. Just let me make this right." Vince's face softened at hearing this. He was Zalgo's proxy? He had so much to catch up on.

Vince sighed, his eyes lowering, "Fine. But after you talk to her, you need to tell me everything, so I can help." Varrick nodded, before stepping into the cabin.

Varrick's heartfelt as if it suddenly began clenched as if he had skipped a bit as the gentle features of the familiar girl came into view. She seemed different, and she was about to speak when something came over her face. It was an unknown emotion, it puzzled him. Her eyes filled with something he recognized however, the shakiness of her pupils as they dilated slightly, and the way her chest tightened and restricted her from showing too much motion as she breathed. Without knowing it Varrick quickly stepped closer, his hand slowly and unconsciously reaching out for her. Without him knowing it, his body had tried to move forward tohold the girl in comfort, out of pure and complete instinct.

But something was wrong, something was different, because upon seeing the hand that reached for her the girl stumbled back and fell desperately onto her back, tripped by bent floorboards on the ground. The fear in her eyes grew more, it made her shake in his sight and he tried to step forward to help her again but froze when he spotted the tears that welled up in her eyes. Those eyes, the same eyes he would dream about every night, the same eyes he had been responsible for forcing pain onto. He was taken aback, surprised because he had expected her anger and her rage, or even her indifference, but this? He had not expected this. He had not expected her to be overcome by terror.

With utter and complete gentleness, he kneeled to her level. Anni was caught completely off guard as he scooted up closer to her and wrapped his arms around her neck, pulling her in with a soft, but tight grip. She had never been hugged in that manner before by Varrick, usually she was doing the hugging. He rested her chin on her shoulder and took a breath, letting it out slowly as he took in her warmth. She didn't move and she looked down at him, not knowing what to do in the certain situation. She lightly flinched when he put his hand on the back of her head, but her muscles relaxed when she felt his rough hands run through her hair. She almost smiled when she could hear his heartbeat, and it was beating fast.

"I'm sorry."

#simp party #simp party my beloved #anni my beloved #anni and varrick hours #varrick angst hours #fuck zalgo

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zaenaris · 2 years

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I'm happy to see that my theory that Koko didn't really saved Inupi by accident but has saved him unconsciously, has been pushed instinctively toward his friend. I mean he didn't leave the house for long before noticing the fire right? Akane could have been still on the ground floor, but he immediatly climbed the stairs to reach the first floor where were the rooms. I stand on my headcanon: his instincts pushed him to Inupi even if he didn't realize it.

There's a chance it went like that! On one hand, Koko just confessed to Akane and he was thinking about her, on the other, from the brief interaction we've seen of the Inui siblings and Koko, it seems they were close, there are good chances Koko visited their home and knew it well enough to immediately move upstairs during the fire, knowing people were usually upstairs. (again, he run upstairs immediately, but Seishu and Akane could have been downstairs, maybe it was his instinct telling Koko to run upstairs)

Now, I can understand that it was a dangerous and stressful situation, but, while Koko was thinking about Akane, assuming the siblings had separated rooms, I find it difficult to believe he rushed in the wrong room, it was a classical situation where instincts and unconscious kick in. It may have been a situation where Koko's body moved to Seishu's room without him realizing it, while his brain was thinking about Akane, who knows?

Let's assume the sibling shared a room and where together, Koko canonically has bad eyesight as a teenager (we don't know when he was a child during the fire), the flames and the smoke, the panic of the dangerous situation for sure don't help to see clearly, so maybe it was really an accident he took Seishu instead of Akane.

But if this is the case, then what you wrote --> I have the headcanon that the guilt to NOT have EVEN thought about Inupi at this horrible moment has tortured him for years<-- makes perfectly sense and that's an headcanon that fascinates me. Because we know Koko cares about Inupi, of course he does, and even before the fire, he had these thoughts...

Nobody should have died due to that accident, and having to "choose" to save between your crush and your best friend, brother of your crush, is unfair, especially because Koko would have felt guilty anyway:

situation 1: Koko was thinking to save Akane but unconsciously "decides" to save Seishu, pushed by hiss instinct--> feels guilty because he wasn't thinking about Seishu and couldn't save Akane

situation 2: Koko was sure he saved Akane but instead realized later it was Inui -->feels guilty anyway, same as before

The fire was a traumatic event for everyone involved, I'm not surprised that, right after Koko promised Akane he would have protected her, and he "failed" (it was not his fault of course), he did everything in his power to deal with it, heaping Akane on Seishu and obsessing over money as an unhealthy coping mechanism, he admits it himself.

His feelings for Inui are complicated, there's a lot of trauma involved, an unresolved situation with Akane, shifting the promise he made to her on Inui, unconsciously, being aware she's dead while not accepting it, and having Seishu right there, with their complicated past and history.

What fascinates me about Inupi and Koko is that there is so much unsaid between them, and mostly on Koko's point of view. That's why I hope we'll get some more insight before the manga ends (and I don't want trains involved lol)

The positive things that gives me life is that they are now willing and emotionally read to talk. Inupi probably has been for a while, but Koko wasn't (during Tenjiku) but now I can see them being open with each other

#inukoko #kokonui #tokyo revengers #kokonoi hajime #inui seishu #akane inui #zae talks about tr

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skadee17 · 4 months

Text

VI- Incandescent Glow

I had decided to have lunch at the ranch cafeteria after a busy morning. As I grabbed a tray, my gaze was drawn to a man sitting at a table in the back of the room. It was the man who had made inappropriate advances towards me the day before. His face bore numerous bruises, and I felt a knot form in my stomach as I understood what might have happened.

While I searched for a place to sit, my eyes met Troy's. There was determination and anger in his eyes, but also something deeper, something more profound. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized that Troy knew I had noticed the man's injuries and was aware that I understood he was behind it all.

I sat at a nearby table, close to Nick and Alicia, unable to take my eyes off Troy. Despite the physical distance between us, it seemed like he could read my thoughts. A silent tension settled between us, charged with emotions and implications.

While I continued to gaze at Troy, he made a slight, almost imperceptible nod, as if signaling me not to say anything, to leave things as they were. A sense of mutual understanding seemed to arise between us, an unspoken agreement that this conversation would remain unsaid, at least for the moment.

I felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over me as I finally looked away. I knew this situation was not resolved, that there were unanswered questions. But for now, I chose to respect the silence between Troy and me, realizing that sometimes, some stories must remain buried, at least until they are ready to be revealed.

"Your attention, please. I wanted to talk to you about Outpost Alpha. McCarthy and his unit have been gone for 36 hours, and we still have no news. There could be a hundred possible scenarios, the first 99 not being alarming, but we always need to prepare for the worst. My son, Troy, will go and see what's going on, but we need volunteers," Jeremiah concluded.

Men raised their hands to volunteer after Jeremiah called them, and I saw my mother raise her hand as well. Nick and Alicia didn't understand why she was doing that, and I must admit, neither did I. It was a dangerous mission, and if something happened to them, my mother would have to rely on the militia, and I didn't trust them.

My mother headed towards our house to pack her bag for the expedition; we followed, the three of us, without a word. Once the whole family was in the cabin, Nick began:

"You can't go, Mom, it's too dangerous!"

"I have to go, alright? We need to help here," she explained.

"But not like this! We can help in many different ways, but this, this is madness, Mom!" I exclaimed.

"Bella's right, Mom. I don't trust these people," added Alicia.

"Listen, my decision is made, and I won't go back on it. Nothing will happen to me, I promise you," she insisted.

"Mom, please," I said, worried.

"It's decided, I'll be back; we leave tomorrow, it'll be fine."

She hugged the three of us and repeated that everything would be alright and that she would come back.

A few hours later:

The peaceful silence of the cabin was abruptly shattered by the incandescent glow of flames that engulfed the night sky and the desperate screams of the inhabitants. The ranch, once a haven of peace, was now in the grip of frantic activity, desperately trying to contain the fire that had engulfed a small isolated cottage on top of the hill.

"What's happening?" Luciana asked.

"I'll go check," replied Nick.

"Where's Alicia?" my mother worried.

"At her Bible study," I affirmed.

"Wait for us, Nick; we're coming!"

Awakened by the screams, we ran straight towards the fire. Troy and his men rushed to fight the blaze. Buckets of water were thrown in vain at the ravenous flames, battling against a fire that seemed insatiable.

Anxious and determined to save anyone who might be trapped, I ventured dangerously close to the flames, ignoring the warnings of caution.

Troy, alerted by my movements, rushed towards me, firmly grabbing my arm before I could get any closer. "Stop, Bella, you can't go there, are you crazy?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with concern and firmness.

With a pounding heart, I tried to free myself from Troy's grip. "I have to go see! They might still be in there!" referring to the old couple.

Troy shook his head gravely. "It's too dangerous, Bella. We can't risk more lives."

Helpless, I watched the cottage, flames dancing around it, while the rest of the group tried to keep the fire under control. A heaviness settled on my heart, anticipating the horrible truth that would follow. Jeremiah decided to call it quits and save water; unfortunately, the couple was gone; they had passed away together, in life and in death. Sadness and desolation were evident on everyone's faces. The loss of these lives in a world already devastated by tragedy was unbearable.

I stood there, watching the flames rage on the cottage, families had left, not wanting to witness this horror show any longer. A few remained; Jack, Troy, Nick, and I, stayed in front of the flames without a word. We shared a moment of silent mourning, linked by the pain of this heartbreaking loss, our differences momentarily erased by the cruel reality of life in this apocalyptic world."

#fear the walking dead #ftwd #fanfiction #ennemies to lovers #troy otto x oc #troy otto

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rainbowtvz · 7 months

Note

🩷 ❤️ 🌘 ~ rebeccaselfships

🩷sal -

sal's not really an abstract ideas kind of guy when it comes to art. he's more of a hands on crafty guy. it's why he's amazing at crafting himself masks (though it took him a while to get there) but not as great with painting them, or art in general. what little he's picked up with drawing and painting is definitely osmosis from larry and ash. give him some sculpting clay and he'll know exactly what he wants to do with it but a canvas and a brush? it's why what ash and larry can do with said canvas is so fucking amazing to him. and what (either s/i) can do with a pencil and paper is even more amazing.

🩷john

i like to think that since john is extremely sentimental in canon that it goes a step further and he carries something that reminds him of his partners, past and present, on him, to keep them a part of himself. with helen it was their wedding ring he swore to never take off (now worn on a chain around his neck) and with me it changes every so often as we're still finding our dynamic to settle into. (sometimes its a phone charm, other times it's a scarf i got him as a present.. what goes unsaid is what the final item would be if i were to leave his life prematurely.)

❤️sal

sal and i are just two silly lil goobers trying to make something with our lives, unaware that the evil cult is about to upend our lives. however we both have a sort of sixth sense that things are gonna get chaotic in the near future so we're more or less living like it's our honeymoon to get the most out of our relationship before one or both of us dies :(

so there's a lot of intimacy and a bit of co-dependency going on, and just living one day at a time, and just fully putting all our love into it like it's our last day on earth.

❤️john

john and i met because i just saw him get shot in the fucking street and stumble away and nobody batted an eye like it was somehow normal? i followed him to a hideout of his to see if he needed help only for him to put me at gunpoint because he thought i was an assassin there to finish the job. i almost ran and didn't look back but decided to see it through because i can't just.. ignore somebody getting severely hurt like that and not feel awful about it when i could've tried to help at least. we are still figuring things out between us so i don't have a lot of facts n stuff about us but things r going well so far!

🌘sal

sal loves my sense of humor, just point blank. its a good mix of silly and gallows. he can both relate to it and fall back on it to lighten the mood up anytime. and it usually makes his day when i come up with something particularly hilarious. sometimes i catch him staring off into space only to start giggling. i ask him why and he says it's because he remembered a joke i made.

🌘john

sometimes i'm not sure what's going on in john's head, but i get the feeling that just my presence is enough to keep him grounded. i think i'm sort of a break from the madness and i appreciate that i can be, because the kind of world he lives in sounds extreme, and scary. when he's with me in my corner of reality it's like he can slow down and enjoy life again. i think it makes him feel normal and like there's a light and the end of the tunnel. it's the least i can be for him. as for if he loves it about me? wel i hope it's not the only thing 😗

#ty for sending someeeeee <3 #FINALLY ANSWERED #gawd im so hungry rn #i wish sal could make me some food but alas #thats another hc of mine that he's decent at cooking #i am the baker to his chef #tempted to answer for johnny silverhand as well but maybe next time

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stonewallsposts · 1 year

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16 personalities questions: 46-48

46. You rarely contemplate the reasons for human existence or the meaning of life

Disagree. I do contemplate these things. I accept the Biblical accounting for them and they make the most sense for me. And those are that we were created to love God and be with him. That was broken through sin, and God himself, through the person of Jesus, paid the price for sin and we, through trust in Jesus, can be restored to the Father. That is our most basic reason for existence and meaning- to serve the Lord.

While I accept that as truth, I am also interested in what people who disagree with me have to say. I try and learn some philosophy and understand what kinds of things people search for to provide meaning to their lives. But one of the things I've become convinced of through reading not only the philosophies, but the lives of the philosophers themselves, is that we are all subject to the time and place we live in. None of us has a full picture of life. As brilliant as some of these men were, their attempts to categorize all of life still falls short and is subject to their own limited view of life.

With this in mind, I tend to read them with a grain of salt. I try to understand where they're coming from, and why they might believe what they do. To be honest, I try to do the same with myself, but I'm subject to all the same limitations, and lack the genius that most of them had, so I'm even more restricted in what I can figure out. But clearly, as Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes 3:11, God has put eternity in the hearts of men. We are interested in such things and we can't help but think of these things on occasion. I know some people do their best to put it out of mind, but nonetheless, we can't escape it altogether.

Perhaps this will seem a bit strange, but I've been mentally preparing for death, mine and others around me, for some time. I'm sure I've told many people this story, but years ago I read a long-form article in the LA Times about trucking deaths. The lead story was of a couple that worked in different places and had made a lunch date to meet someplace in the middle. The husband drove to the spot but the wife never showed. A truck had overturned on her car and killed her. The story had an impact on me and it struck me that we never know what is going to happen. I plan on going home this evening, but there's no guarantee that I'll make it there. I decided that I wanted to be ready for these things. So I have tried to live my life in such a way that I don't leave things unsaid to my loved ones. I let them know how much I love them. I was prepared for my father's death, and I'm prepared for my mom's, and I'm prepared for my wife or kids too. That's not to say it won't hurt, but I'm fully aware that this life isn't meant to last forever, and even if we live out the full measure of a human life, it is still, as the Bible says, a vapor: here and gone.

This brings up another anecdote, but years ago I used to open up the church in the mornings for prayer. One morning I went in, and the sanctuary had been prepared for a funeral. In the back was a photo montage of the gentleman's life: he had been in the Air Force and there were all kinds of pictures of him. It hit me that one day, that would be me. The only thing left would be some pictures. A few people would mourn me for a while; my wife and kids would remember me, but beyond that, I'd be forgotten. The only thing that would matter at that time is what I did for the Lord.

These little incidents have been formative for me, and cause me to approach life in a way that is informed and directed by Christianity.

Of course, since I'm an idiot, I don't always live up to this, but I do think I contemplate the meaning of life.

47. Your emotions control you more than you control them

Hmmm, well, my gut reaction is to agree with this, but then maybe it needs more reflection.

I think I probably control them more than they control me. There can be a lot of inner dialogue going on in my head over my reaction to things, so there is clearly a struggle. But the good thing is that most people are probably unaware of it. I take that to mean that I generally manage to keep the inner struggle under control.

But given the previous discussion over the whole head v heart approach, I have decided that I don't like that dichotomy very much. I'm choosing to see them as simply different sets of input that inform the deliberation process, sometimes consciously, sometimes unconsciously. So while I may feel like I'm making a logical decision, even my criteria are going to be informed by subconscious information.

But perhaps this statement isn't meant to probe into this so deeply, they're just using colloquial parlance to express it. I'm going to give this a 5, slightly disagree.

48. You take great care not to make people look bad, even when its completely their fault

I'm towards the agree on this one, but only slightly. If someone makes a mistake, I'll usually do what I can to keep it from being a bigger thing. I make mistakes, and I don't like it when those get broadcast.

So yeah, I'll probably go out of my way to try and not make people look bad, even if they screwed up.

There is a bible verse that covers this too: love covers over a multitude of sins.

But of course is someone is being a complete jerk, then I'm less apt to want to shield them from themselves.

For myself, I don't really reject the hatred if I've done something bad. I don't like it.... but I accept it.

A few months ago I had said something earlier in the day to our office manager, and later on I said something that she thought was a contradiction, so she called me out on it. I stopped and said: Are you trying to catch me in hypocrisy? She just smiled and said, Of course. I explained the resolution between the two statements and she sort of joke grudgingly accepted it, but I did think the interaction was kind of funny. Unless I'm really close with someone, I wouldn’t point something like that out, and even then, I'd be reluctant to do it.

That has come through time and the experience of so many of my own failings. Years ago, when I was cheated on, I tried my best to reconcile. When she chose to move on, I stopped trying to shield her from the consequences of her actions. I sort of wish I would still have been more quiet about it. It's not like I broadcast it all over, but I didn't try to stay quiet either. I would do things differently today.

So yeah, I take care not to make people look bad.

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chickenparm · 2 years

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feed your marcus fans please bark

Marcus/gn!Reader One-Shot - NSFW m!receiving Rimming/Face Sitting, Blowjob, Reader is a Sex Worker

---

You're used to Enforcers coming in here.

Maybe not on a nightly or even weekly basis, but it's frequent enough that you don't bat an eye when they come. It's never outright said, but you can always tell an Enforcer from a civilian - the line of their shoulders, the unease in their walk, the heavy way they step as if they're mad at the very floorboards.

That, and they can never meet your eyes.

It's become a game, to get them to loosen up over time. Whether that's through gently prying information from them that you secret back to certain interested parties, or simply working in silence, it doesn't matter.

Except tonight you have a rather particular customer, one you'd almost call your regular if his visits weren't more than a month in between. It's almost like clockwork that Marcus is here every thirty days, leaning his forearm on the doorway of your curtained-off room and taking in the sight of you sprawled across the chaise lounge.

There's an urgency about him as he steps in without the invitation you normally extend - another sign of his comfort, finally. Marcus explains it while already working at the swathe of fabric used as a cloak to hide his features. Even without the uniform, you're certain the Sheriff is recognizable.

Or maybe you're just looking a little too closely.

"What's the rush?" The syllables you speak are purposely drawn out, giving him a false sense of time extending. It doesn't seem to phase him as he tosses the cloak onto the floor near the door, disregarding the coat rack entirely.

"I don't have much time tonight, but I still wanted to see you."

"And how would you like to see me, then?" You smile knowingly up at him from your prone position, and it's all the trigger he needs to be on you in seconds.

Kissing isn't foreign to you, not by a long shot. It's one of the most basic forms of intimacy you're willing to provide here at Babette's. But with Marcus it always feels complex, layered like there are things being unsaid that you're unwilling to look further into. Let it happen; You've decided that long ago.

Marcus moves with a familiarity of you. After so many months, he's learned what you like, how to make you sigh into his mouth and arch against his hands. Marcus knows where to touch you, where to drag his nails hard or gently sweep the pads of his fingers to make you shiver.

For someone in a hurry, he's sure taking his time with this part, but he always has. There needs to be some sort of leadup for him, an establishment of intimacy that others may scoff at in favor of getting their rocks off. Not once has it solely been about his release, not once has he been selfish.

But tonight is different, it seems. Marcus pulls away enough to speak, his lips brushing against yours just barely, "I want your mouth tonight."

Instead of shifting like he expects, you simply open your mouth like a silent invitation. Perhaps you could have gotten on your knees for him, or even switched places so he could be comfortable, but the way his eyes widen and you get to see the pretty flush of his cheeks when the understanding strikes him means you’ve made the right choice.

It takes Marcus only a moment to gather his wits and leave you. He always comes in with nondescript clothing, though you’ve caught sight of his Sheriff’s badge pinned inside his cloak more than once when he sheds it off. Marcus doesn’t disrobe beyond undoing the shining buttons on his pants and tugging the fabric down just enough to free himself.

Either he’s gotten himself worked up from simply touching you, or he’s been waiting on this for longer than you suspect. There’s a lull in his moment as he watches you, sprawled out and watching him in turn. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for some sort of permission, so you jerk your chin toward yourself for him to get the hint and move things along.

It takes some tugging on his hips for him to get the hint that you want him on top of you, his knees pressing into your shoulders until he’s got his cock lined up with your mouth. There’s a bead of his arousal just at the tip, threatening to drip away and onto you. Instead of letting it go to waste, you wiggle a hand around his thigh and hold him steady to swirl your tongue around him.

Always sensitive, like it’s the first time every time. Marcus curses almost too-loudly, though there are plenty of sounds coming from other rooms in the establishment. It’s been too long since he’s felt embarrassed about that, and you’ll be damned if you let him go back on your hard work of making him comfortable. So, you hum around him in return, taking him fully past your lips and onto your tongue with a sound that could only be described as lewd.

The back of the lounge suddenly groans under the pressure of his hand, his grip tightening in response to your work and putting the wood under stress. Marcus’ reactions are always so visceral, every one of them sparking some sort of pride in yourself that it’s you he chooses to come here to see. You’re the one making the Sheriff of Piltover sit on your chest and feed his cock into your mouth.

It’s part admiration of the power it brings, just for a moment, and part a strange sort of affection for a man you’ve known for years. Granted, you know him carnally more than anything else, but you like to think that there are precious few people who have gotten to see him like this, from this angle.

“Gods you are-...” A harsh breath leaves him, one that may have been a moan if he cut loose a little more, “Good. So good, just for me, right?”

An affirmative hum and nod are your answers, but he backs off enough that he slips free from your mouth, a wordless order for you to use your words. With a lick of your lips, a movement that his eyes hone in on, you answer, “Just for you, Marcus. Let me be good for you a little more, hm?”

A short huff of laughter leaves him as he lets you pull him back in your range to stroke at his cock with a loose grip. The couch groans again beneath his grip as you twist your hand at the tip, and his pleasure catches in his voice, “Never been able to deny you anything.”

No, he really hasn’t. Flashes of your previous activities with him flicker through your mind, memories of the ways you’ve had him prone before you and vice versa make your very bones hum with happiness. The reminder is sweet, especially the last time he’d been here and he’d looked at you with pleasured, tear-stained cheeks after the things you’d done to him.

Instead of taking him fully again, you press a chaste kiss to his tip, then the vein that snakes across the bottom of his shaft, then an open-mouthed one to his balls, and even further. Marcus’ head falls back the moment your tongue snakes out, accommodated by your hand lifting his cock well out of the way for you to drag the wet appendage across his hole.

Any pretense of careful silence is gone in favor of something both surprised and appreciative. On reflex he grinds down, chasing the pressure and texture of your tongue against his ass, and you do nothing to stop him. If he wants to control the pace, you’re more than willing to let him. It doesn’t take much to push inside with how he rides you, giving you all the leverage you need to push past the tight ring.

Above you, Marcus is lost. His sounds are directed solely at the ceiling, a cacophony of groans and near-whines of encouragement for you to please keep going. Against your cheeks, his thighs shake with the effort of containing himself, and you desperately wish he wouldn’t.

Selfishly, all you want is for him to use you how he needs tonight.

You keep a loose rhythm on his cock, your hand slick with his arousal as it smears with every pass of your hand. Marcus flounders under both your hand and tongue, hips bucking to meet your palm while simultaneously trying to press down on your face. It’s futile and sloppy, and you focus on controlling your own movements to a point that he gives up any sort of attempt to meet them.

It takes a shift of your hand and one straining curl of your tongue inside him for him to nearly double over and grip at you instead of the couch, his fingers catching where he can reach to press against your skin in a way that will leave you bruised. You don’t care, not while he all but writhes on top of you and hisses his pleasure through his teeth.

You have the presence of mind to angle his dick away, toward the back of the couch instead of your head. With that out of the way, you focus solely on dragging this out for him as long as he pleases, your hand making thick, wet sounds as you smear his release. He’s clenched impossibly tight, too much for you to hope to press back in, so you settle for slow drags of your tongue against his ass instead.

Marcus doesn’t have the will for it tonight. He doesn’t handle it as long as he normally does, tapping out with a murmur of red before slumping against the back of the lounge. You’re able to wiggle enough to breathe again, your inhales harmonizing with his own, albeit much softer than the heaving ones he’s taking. You gauge him for a moment, waiting to give him a chance to either reach out or get up.

Marcus does neither, and you reach out to him instead. Blissfully, he leans into your hold, and slides down your body to lay with you, his forehead pressed to your sternum enough that your sweat-slick skin sticks to his own.

It’s a familiar song and dance, one that you’ve learned and perfected after so many times. One hand finds the familiar trails through his hair that make him sigh and relax against you, while your other lays flat against his back to ground him there. Stability and comfort, that’s what he’s always preferred, and tonight is no different.

It takes a concerningly long amount of time for him to mumble, “I need to go.”

“You’ve lingered for a while. Will I see you soon? You’re my favorite customer, you know.”

The shift of his cheek against your chest tells you he’s smiling, even if you can’t directly see his face, “I’ll see what I can do, as long as you’ve got time for me.”

It goes unsaid that of course you’ll have time for him, so long as he has the coin to compensate for it. That’s all handled at the front, and you see your cut at the end of the night. It makes it easier to forget that this isn’t anything more than a business transaction. You’re providing a service he pays for, you just so happen to enjoy it more than you probably should.

It’s more believable when you don’t have to pretend.

#marcus #marcus arcane #marcus x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #mdni #minors dni #this one's for you anon #and also vasiktomis

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mosstliest · 3 years

Text

fallen stars always plague the cold

requested? yes / no

r e q u e s t :

Omg hi!!! Ur writing is literally *chefs kiss*

ne ways I'd love to request a c!techno x reader with the frostbitten lips kissing cuz like yk they live in the frozen tundra and im a simp also I'd love to be 🩰 anon if ur opening an anon list!!!

- 🩰 anon

prompt! - 27, kiss with frostbitten lips

pronouns used: they / them

c!technoblade x reader

fluff, angst? (past partners to rivals to lovers speedrun)

cw! mentions of frostbit . swearing . eye talk bc I’m a sucker for eyes . mentions of past war

1318 words

Coming from L’manberg, where the most drastic climate event were the ever appropriate thunderstorms, it’s safe to say you did not take kindly to the everlasting cold of Snowchester and it’s freezing surroundings. Life in the arctic biome had quickly proven to be unsympathetic, but you’d never been the type to back down from a challenge.

It was on a particularly hostile evening that you found yourself walking alongside none other than Technoblade.

He’d found you in the rather compromising position of almost being killed by an enderman while trying to obtain the means to pearl atop the mountain and offered to walk you home under the argument of “I can’t be associated with someone who died in such an embarrassing way”.

You’d met him before --reluctantly considering him an acquaintance when he first allied with Pogtopia and slowly, between training sessions and long hours of potato farming, you had dared to call him a friend, after weeks of preparing for war, perhaps something more. neither of you ever risked suggesting a title, but you’d proudly worn his enchanted armor to combat and stood beside him as the tyranny of Schlatt ended on an underwhelming note, the taste of victory still weaved with the bitterness of betrayal as you ended up battling his withers. You’d learnt your lesson and were not willing to forget it.

The two of you had been walking for a good thirty minutes and the silhouette of your cottage was still nowhere to be seen, a month had passed since you relocated to the vicinal hills of Snowchester and you still hadn’t learnt that the customary fur lined attire was never enough to keep you warm but instead of walking faster or rubbing your arms to scare off the cold, you decided to provoke the pigman. No better antidote for frostbite than a bit of entertainment, right?

“So, still on the business of betraying your friends Techno?”

The attractive clean-cut features of the pigman and his eternally stern expression never ceased to stun you, he glanced back at you with snowflakes sticking to his braided hair and no trace of a reaction in his face.

“Still letting everyone push you around y/n?”

Monotone, cold. Maybe the arctic had been the place for him all along

You could have quipped back, but there were so many things left unsaid between you, and there was still a long way to go

“I don’t let anyone push me around, I never have”

“aha”

Hot fury started rising up your throat, he was so unbothered by everything it was exasperating

“We trusted you, Tommy and Tubbo and Wil… we needed you Techno, I needed you! You were my friend and you betrayed me-”

The word friend felt foreign when spoken to him, but this was no time for introspection

“And you still haven’t learnt a thing! Be it Tubbo or Schlatt or even Wilbur, they’re the problem! The gov-”

You flinched at the mention of your dead friend and interrupted the man

“It never had anything to do with the fucking government Techno! We trusted you and you didn’t give a shit”

You blinked away angry tears and turned to face him, the frozen trail forgotten as you both laid raw statements on a creaking table built of long buried feelings

“Y’know, I always considered you the smartest of the bunch, guess you’ve proven me wrong”

“You are the one who hasn’t learnt! I’ve grown Techno, I have changed. You left our country a burning mess and you ran for the fucking hills! You never cared, you never...”

He opened his mouth to answer and closed it as you drifted off mid sentence

“That’s what you think? That I abandoned you because I didn’t care? They called me a war criminal! I’m a damn public enemy now y/n”

Furious tears ran down your cheeks leaving a frozen trail of bitterness

“I had no choice and I- well I wasn’t going to drag you with me! but I cared, I still do I think… about you at least”

A wolf howling in the distance was the only sound breaking the stillness

“You look cold, let’s… let’s just get you home”

“I am not cold, I-”

A particularly inhospitable breeze cut you off and Technoblade couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at how you wrapped your arms around your midsection in a futile attempt to battle the snow, the usual threatening demeanor that had always intrigued the anarchist shattered and the softness underneath it nothing short of endearing. He could have stared at you forever, delicate and fragile under the northern sky, but your lips were turning blue and Technoblade wasn’t about to let all the effort of finishing off the enderman and walking up a mountain for god knows how long go to waste. Without uttering a word, he slipped off his red cape and draped it around your shoulders.

The red material was worn and soft and you let out a sigh of relief as the cloak started warming your body.

“Thanks”

Your voice came out a resigned whisper and if it weren’t for the eternal silence of the landscape around you, Techno wouldn't have been able to hear it.

You hadn’t been looking for closure, you had wanted to provoke him, fishing for a reaction, a quip or an insult. In some twisted way, you had missed him.

Everything stayed quiet for a second. his normally virtuous hand still stuck in mid air, barely missing a grasp on the fur lining his cloak. You’d never paid much thought to The Blade’s height, but now, as he towered over you, close enough that you could hear him breathe, you wished you’d taken Eret up on that platform boots shopping trip invitation years ago.

Technoblade was much less preoccupied with your height difference and more concerned with the fact that you were possibly the most enchanting person he’d ever laid eyes on. He wondered if he’d noticed before --while you rotted away together on the dimly lit cavern they had insisted on calling a nation--, how your eyes were prettier than the moon; brighter and fuller and bewitching in every sense of the word.

He wondered if a million multicolored polar lights would ever be as hypnotic as the coat of frozen dew that laced your eyelashes and made them shine like stars under the rays of the dusk. In a reckless motion, Technoblade reached his hand and wiped a stray shortleaf that had landed on your cheekbone, he watched in awe as you leaned against his touch.

Neither of you spoke, neither moved an inch, too scared of shattering the fragile tension outstretched between you.

Later, when trying to recall this moment, neither of you could decide on who leaned in first, but when your frostbitten lips met for the first time the world seemed to blur, or, perhaps, you finally started to see clearly.

Techno’s right hand cradled your cheek and his left traveled shy and trembling to your neck, carefully deepening the kiss. you melted onto his embrace with a small gasp, both hands pressed firmly against his chest treasuring the feeling of his beating heart against your skin.

His lips were ice and tasted like the night and his mouth was burning hot and desperate and his breath was shaky and the snow was falling heavier than before but it was fine, any trace of cold had long banished and the rhythmic melody of synchronized heartbeats melted the snow before it reached the ground.

You kissed for what could have been hours of long minutes or short fused seconds with no one but the stars and the moon and the ice as witnesses.

When you opened your eyes and looked up at Techno, his cheeks were flushed a dark crimson and he was blinking fast, all pink shadows and golden angles against the white. Lean and powerful as he’d always been and suddenly; forgiving him appeared to be a rather tempting option.

ANIME TECHNO GO BRRR

I feel like this came off a bit rushed but I really loved this request and wanted to finish it up as quick as posible.

Masterlist should be up soon and I am opening an anon list if you're interested :^)

have a lovely morning/day/evening/night <3

#lily of the valley #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #techno x you #techno x y/n #technoblade x you #technoblade fic #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x you #dream smp x reader #mcyt #dream smp #🩰 anon

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