#i mean if they didn’t want me to like him maybe they shouldn’t have cast tom glynn-carney for him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

There were a total of 171.5 billion posts on Tumblr in 2019.

#i mean if they didn’t want me to like him maybe they shouldn’t have cast tom glynn-carney for him

sexlapis · 5 months

Note

What if y/n and toji got into an argument and like the fans can tell and then they make up 🤭

awwww yesss :(((

making up

actor!toji x actor/actress!reader

parasocial relationships, making up, petnames (‘kid’)

actor!toji masterlist

fans don’t know what happened, but you and toji seem to be so…distant all of a sudden.

one day there were clips of the two of you on set, being all touchy and giggly and happy but then the next…you two hardly touched each other, we’re clearly avoiding one another and barely a glance was spared between either of you.

you and toji’s fanbase had no idea what happened and, being the people in a parasocial relationship with two actors that they were, they descended into panic and chaos.

rumours started flying around the internet, claiming that you and toji have broken up, that the “tojiyn ship has sunk” and “rip tojiyn”. accounts dedicated to you and toji as a couple were in tatters and dispair, threatening to close their whole accounts if this rumour was confirmed. many of your own fans were upset, but others were hoping for this rumour to be true, as they didn’t even think toji deserved you anyway and they had no shame in letting that be known. this could also be said for toji’s fans - they were happy to see you gone so that they could be delusional and hope to have a chance with the toji fushiguro. hell, even some body language interpreters jumped in to analyse the clips of you and toji. it was crazy to say the least.

your mangers had to call you both out on it and they told you both to suck it up and stop making things difficult for yourselves.

the reason for the argument?

it was a silly thing really.

you were just tired and stressed out from work. you didn’t mean to shout and snap at toji even though he was being kind to you. but you did. you’re sure he didn’t mean to shout back at you either. but he did. you didn’t really want to storm out of his house and back to your apartment. but you did.

and you both have barely spoken since.

tears well up in your eyes as you sit on the ledge of a sidewalk outside the building you’re filming in, cars blurring past you, fluorescent lights streamlining across your vision while you hold your head in your hands.

i guess i’ll be working overtime tonight.

the sky is dark and the streetlights suddenly come to life, casting a golden glow around you.

you sigh, resting your head on your knees, mind still stuck on toji.

“hey.”

a yelp leaves your mouth. you turn your head and- speak of the devil, there stands toji with his hands in his pockets, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

“toji! you hiss. “you scared me!” you look away and back at the busy street.

“right- sorry ‘bout that,” toji seems flustered when he huffs out his words, scratching the back of his head and puffing out his cheeks before strolling and plopping down right next to you, “‘think it’s time we talked, kid.”

guilt stirs up in your chest and you pick at your nails, “m’yeah. maybe…”

toji sighs and scoots closer to you, placing his hand over your fidgety ones. he smooths his thumb over your knuckles.

“look, m’sorry, alright?” toji utters softly, his eyes tender as he looks into yours. “‘shouldn’t ‘a shouted at you. i was a fucking dick.”

you bark out a slightly tearful laugh and blink out the glossiness in your eyes. “yeah, no, it was my fault too. i was an asshole. you were being wayy too nice.”

you look at him and he’s smiling, a dimple appearing on his left cheek.

toji looked so sweet, in his cosy, black winter coat and beanie.

humming, you slide a little closer to him, holding your hands out, “forgive me?”

toji scoffs and basically lurches forward, tugging you onto his lap in your arms as he litters your face with kisses, making you cackle and flush.

“yeah, kid, i forgive ya.” toji speaks and places one final kiss on your forehead.

the next day, photos of you and toji sitting on a sidewalk and cuddling flood the timelines of your fans, who (mostly) rejoice in the clear reconciliation of whatever unknown incident took place.

a/n: yeah actor toji is so back woohoo

#📫.toji #actor!toji #srry this took so long #we’re back in business😎😎😎#toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushigro x reader #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you

843 notes · View notes

theemporium · 8 months

Note

hiii, i’d like to request a poly maxiel after danny’s crash in zandvoort - max has to finish the practice and focus on the gp so it’s only the reader that accompanies danny to the hospital and then to spain for his surgery, but max is obviously stressed because he can’t be with danny and you (even though they keep in touch through messages and facetimes) but as soon as he can, max joins his partners in spain and they celebrate max’s win a little to cheer danny up and take his mind off his injury maybe?

i’m not sure about the ending but something like this would be nice if you’re okay with writing this🙈 but it’s also totally understandable if you don’t want to write this! either way, thank you for hearing me out!😇

btw, i love your writing and i also love poly!f1 so this is a match made in heaven for me haha! thank you for sharing your amazing stories with us and i hope you’re feeling a lot better soon🫶

ahhh thank you thank you!! you're so sweet omg🥲also i didn't know how to end this either but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

Max shouldn’t have felt so on edge when he was the one who insisted you go with Daniel.

He had been notified over the radio when the crash had happened. The second Daniel’s name was uttered, he felt his heart rate spike. He caught glimpses of the crash through the massive screens around the track but nobody was giving him details on how he was, what had happened, if he was going to be okay.

It wasn’t until he was back in the garage after the practice session that he started to mangle the details out of people. You had joined Daniel at the hospital, sending Max a quick update on what was going on and what happened. You told him you would send any updates on his condition.

He didn’t think he was able to take a proper breath until you and Daniel returned to the paddock, this time with a cast on the latter’s arm.

Max could see the conflict in your eyes, so he made the decision easier for you. He told you to go to Spain with Daniel, to be with him during the surgery and the recovery.

You had insisted that it was his home race, that you should stay with him to be there when he breaks the record. But Max had just smiled and told you that Monza would be where he would break the record, and you would be there for him.

Daniel needed you right now, more than he did.

So, you eventually gave in and took Max’s jet out to Spain to meet with the doctor who would be doing his surgery.

It wasn’t like he was totally cut off from you both. He had received a handful of messages—some of them updates, some of them just nonsense—in the group chat that had the three of you in it. Any time he wasn’t in the car or in front of a camera, he had one of you on facetime so he could be there for Daniel in some way too.

But it didn’t ease the tightness in his chest. He felt on edge, he felt off without the two of you by his side and he didn’t like it.

The race was more than chaotic enough to keep his mind off everything until he passed the checkered flag. The second he was climbing out that car behind the number one spot, his mind was on you and Daniel once again, his fingers itching to be close enough to hold the two of you again.

The second his duties for the race weekend were over, Max was catching the first flight out. He didn’t care about anything else. He just needed to be with the two of you again, even if it means skipping his own celebrations.

“Hey, stranger.”

The heaviness in his body left in seconds as soon as he stepped into the hospital room, seeing Daniel grinning on the bed with you sitting on a chair beside him. He rushed over before he could stop himself, being careful of Daniel’s arm as he pulled him into a hug.

“Are you okay?” His words were slightly muffled from where he had shoved his face against Daniel’s neck.

“I’m all good, I promise,” Daniel murmured.

Max then pulled away and instantly tugged you from your chair, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close like you were seconds away from disappearing. “And you?”

“I’m good too, baby,” you laughed softly as you hugged him tightly back, knowing very well that this was what he needed. “Congratulations, champion.”

“Nine in a row, huh?” Daniel wiggled his eyebrows. “Almost reminds me of that time—”

You lifted your head to shoot the boy a glare.

The Aussie grinned. “Never mind.”

Max laughed, something he didn’t like he had been able to do since both you and Daniel left Zandvoort. “I don’t care about the record,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “I’m just glad I’m with you both again.”

“Awww, our little softie,” you cooed as you jokingly reached to pinch his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed as he grabbed your hand before intertwining your fingers together. “Whatever, we can celebrate in here.”

Daniel raised his brows. “You smuggle a bottle in here?”

Max grinned. “There’s many ways to celebrate without champagne.”

“Absolutely not,” you snorted. “Not in a hospital room, guys. Have some decency.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Daniel grinned.

681 notes · View notes

shadamyheadcanons · 2 months

Note

For me, Shadow and Amy's dynamic is basically two different types of touch starved in a person

((If any of the gifs on this post aren’t loading for you on mobile--like they aren’t for me--you can download them or check the sources listed. As for desktop, they play just fine, but they won’t line up next to each other like they do on mobile. Tumblr is a comedy of errors.))

Yes! Absolutely. I’ve seen tons of fans say Shadow is prickly and would respond badly to hugs, but canon says otherwise. This is a bad reaction:

[Sonic 06]

Whenever I feel like being sad, I wonder if Bad-Future-06 Silver has ever been hugged.

This is a bad reaction:

[Sonic Unleashed, gif source.]

And I shouldn’t have to say this, but...yeah. These are very bad reactions:

[Sonic X]

[Sonic Generations]

Yikes. I feel bad for both of them.

But this?

[Sonic Adventure 2, gif source.]

This is Shadow’s only canonical hug in the games, and aside from jumping slightly from being snuck up on, he seems to like it just fine.

Just look at that smile! He’s happy. He finds it endearing.

It was a hug from a complete stranger meant for someone else, but he still drank it in--and, given that he’d effectively just lost Maria, he really did need it. It’s the combination of Amy’s gentleness AND her speech that changed his mind. After all, if someone as sweet as her sees something in the humans, maybe they’re not so bad.

My buddy who runs @shadowxamyweek recently reblogged a post about this hug, and their tags sum it up perfectly:

[ID: A screenshot of tags on a post. The tags read:

#official art #4kids #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #YEAH 😭 #listen I read nothing that has happened with them in SA2 as shippy - and i ship them #THIS HUG? THR SPEECH ON THE ARK? #those are two lonely kids #those are two left behind kids #those are two kids so desperate for affection #for two vastly different reasons #Amy loves with her whole chest and will never stop doing so- no matter what happens #and Shadow does too- that is key to remember- Shadow loves... so fucking much... that it hurts #you are RIGHT op when you say this is probably the first time someone has been gentle with him in a long long time #he doesn't even run away #in the game- when Amy flees- he takes a step after her- a moment's hesitation- a 'wait' #this kid NEEDED a hug #and i firmly believe part of the reason Shadow listens to Amy in the end is BECAUSE she is the only person who showed him gentleness #softness and kindness and affection #if only for a moment #fjdodhdofjgor THIS is what i mean when i say 'be gentle- be kind' #it MATTERS #it FUCKING MATTERS

End ID]

Shadow doesn’t hate hugs inherently; it’s just that no one hugs him in the first place...

...aside from one person.

Amy’s easily the most affectionate character in the cast. It’s cute at first glance, but there’s a common thread to every instance that puts a damper on it.

She’s always, ALWAYS the initiator.

She puts more into each hug than anyone else does.

She’s always the last to pull away.

The most reciprocated Amy hug I know of in canon is this one:

[IDW Sonic issue #22]

Which is absolutely adorable...but Amy still initiated. Because it’s always her job. Even the characters who like affection don’t need it the way she does...with one exception.

And this tiny detail just killed me. The little, “wait, come back 😟”

It’s the only time I know of when someone has actually stepped after her like this. In a game where everyone left Amy behind, he wanted to follow her. Mister so-called-prickly didn’t want the hug to end.

Because he’s the only one who needs it as much as she does.

He wants to be held as much as she wants to hold someone else, and no one else is warm and sincere enough for it. Compare these instances:

[IDW issue #6]

Sonic thinks Shadow is wrong about something, so he grabs Shadow’s arm to stop him, and Shadow aggressively wrenches it away and leaves.

[Archie Sonic Universe #23]

But when Amy thinks Shadow is wrong about something and grabs his arm to stop him, he gently removes her hand and thinks about what she has to say.

Even when he doesn’t want to be touched, he makes the distinction between “don’t touch me” and “not right now, please.” These are from two different continuities, of course, but I think the point stands. Amy’s special. He’s gentler with her than he is with other people, and that’s consistent across all canons.

Side note: how often does Amy get to feel special like that? I actually really like that Sonic doesn’t place others in a hierarchy of importance, and I wouldn’t change that about him even if I could...

[IDW issue #2]

...but Amy does play favorites. I want her to feel like she’s someone else’s favorite, too. I want her to have someone who puts her first and likes her best. I think Shadow’s more than capable of that. I believe he craves clinginess like hers deep down, even if he hasn’t consciously figured that out yet.

I have an entire tag for these two being affectionate. My favorite is probably this one.

Of course, there may be those who say I’m reading too much into one (1) hug. And you know what? Maybe they’re right! We need a bigger sample size. Sega, make more characters hug Shadow, please. Let Rouge comfort him after he confides in her about something. Have Omega give him an awkward metal embrace because he read on the internet that organic beings like that kind of thing. Make Shadow himself pull Silver into a hug when he’s breaking down crying from the stress of always having to be a hero. Show Tails accidentally grab onto him out of fear when they’re trapped in a lightning storm, and when he gets embarrassed and pulls away, have Shadow hold him for the rest of the storm and admit he’s not fond of bright lights, either.

[Sonic Boom]

That scene where Shadow and Amy rescue Cream and Cheese from Cryptic Castle? That easily could’ve turned into a cute group hug.

[Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)]

And I have seen some absolutely adorable fanart where he holds Cream’s hand while he and Amy lead her through Cryptic Castle to make sure she doesn’t get lost 🥺

Have Knuckles give him an empathetic bro-pat on the shoulder when he finds out Shadow’s the last one of his race, too.

[Archie Sonic Universe #89]

Have Sonic try to hug him, and then when Shadow inevitably pushes him away and says he doesn’t do hugs, have Amy arrive and latch onto Shadow instead while he tries to stutter out an excuse as to why she’s allowed to and Sonic isn’t.

The most affection Shadow has in recent history is stuff like this...

youtube

[Sonic Prime season 2 episode 1]

...where Sonic tries to hug him and Shadow immediately pushes him away, knocks him over, and tries to punch him in the face. Kind of says it all. Amy stands out as the only one with a good track record here.

[IDW issue #36]

Especially when you have him look at her like this when someone else is on the receiving end of that affection.

So in the absence of further evidence, I have no choice but to interpret this in the most Shadamy way possible. Your move, Sega.

#shadamy #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #not a headcanon #ask #anonymous #what is it with touch starved hedgehogs?#not the first time i've used the previous tag. says a lot about these characters

205 notes · View notes

roseriki · 2 months

Text

A bed made for two

pairing. riki x gn reader

genre. fluff

word count. 727

authors note. first post! new to the tumblr experience since i'm an ao3 migrant. hope you enjoy reading :)

Dawn’s rays cast a glow over the room as you blinked your eyes open. Stuck in that familiar haze of being glued to the bed, you lay and appreciated the feel of the blanket draped over your body. Far off birdsong sounded, faint and melodious. You felt like today was going to be a good day, shifting under the covers to get up and be productive.

Except, you seemed to have blanked out a tall figure beside you, his arms wrapped around you firmly. It was nothing new to you; this was a common occurrence for Riki to hug you in his sleep. In fact, you found his habit quite endearing. Despite all of the rigorous training he has undergone, and will still undergo, he would always retain that lovely childishness.

Though, his weight wasn’t that of a child’s anymore, so you couldn’t wriggle free from his grasp. You tried to pry his arms off, yet they remained wrapped around you, tightening protectively, his brows set in a furrow. You knew he slept like the dead, but you tried to wake him anyway. This peaceful morning was one that he shouldn’t miss.

“Riki,” you said, voice raspy, “Let me out.”

Your words fell on deaf ears, as Riki continued to sleep, caging you in.

Admittedly, it was comfortable being held so close, as if you were the most precious thing on earth. As if you were precious to him. The warmth he exuded drew you closer—if that was even possible—like the opposite end of a magnet. In many ways, he was magnetic: he was fun-loving and playful, he was charismatic and personable, he was determined and talented. He must have drawn in so many people, and yet you were the one he chose to sleep beside.

However, just because he was a great guy didn’t mean he could keep you from doing your morning routine. Not even his adorable sleeping face would sway your convictions. You spoke his name louder, swinging your legs to bump against his.

“Riki. If you don’t wake up right now, I’m eating your bungeoppang.”

His eyes shot open, urgency clear on his face, “Don’t you dare.”

He was finally up. Usually, it would take much longer to coax him to do so. You thanked the you of yesterday for purchasing some bungeoppang from a store, as that being mentioned was what startled him awake. Typical Riki, worried about the wellbeing of his food.

Pouting slightly now, he was annoyed he was made to wake up early. It was something he wasn’t fond of doing, especially when the sun was shining directly on his face. To appease your indignant boyfriend, you freed your arms to hug him, fingers tracing the planes of his back. The discovery that you gently touching him made him flush and look downwards was one that made you feel giddy. You abused the knowledge, of course, to wipe that petulant look off his face.

“Sorry,” you smiled, not apologetic at all, “I just wanted to show you how nice it is out today.”

“I prefer the bed. It’s too early to get up…” he whined, tugging the blanket further up.

“So you just plan on sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Come on… Get up for me?” you begged, showing him your best pleading expression.

Riki huffed, “No. I want to sleep with you for longer.”

The finality in his tone stopped you from saying any more. He settled into your arms, preparing to sleep again. At this point, you were too tired to keep trying to convince him to peel himself off the mattress and contribute to society, so you sighed and snuggled with him. Maybe today could be a lazy morning.

You were quickly getting sleepier in his presence, eyes drooping. Once, you heard that it was easier to fall asleep next to your lover because of brain chemicals and trust. While you weren't so sure about what chemicals were making you want to nod off, you were certain you trusted Riki. You wouldn't lay in bed so intimately with whoever, and he was incredibly sincere.

As you drifted off into slumber, you allowed yourself to feel relaxed. Tirelessly, the birds continued to sing. The sun continued to rise. Riki continued to be annoyingly perfect. You thought you felt a pair of lips ghost your forehead before the world became nothingness.

#enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #niki x reader #niki enhypen #riki nishimura #enhypen riki #riki fluff #ni ki

81 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 1 year

Text

Heart Out

AN | Once again, no one asked for this. Absolutely no one, but here we are - bone app the teeth. Basically - in which you meet Peter Parker, fall in love, accidentally fall pregnant, and have everything blow up in your face…or so it appears ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Pregnant!Reader

Word Count | 6.3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hello there,” you shrieked at the sound of the warm voice, clutching at your heart as you turned to find the source of your heart attack. Turned out that the man standing across the hall with a cheeky smile on his was about to give you another heart attack. Holy fuck - he was gorgeous. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, any coherent thought already out of your head, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me coming.”

“N-no,” you stammered out dumbly, unable to say anything else. Well then; he probably already thought you were a complete idiot, “I just, umm, didn’t h-hear you.”

“I’ll be louder next time,” he grinned, and his face took on a boyish quality. Funny; he could go from ridiculously handsome to outrageously cute in a matter of moments, “I just wanted to introduce myself - you just moved in right? I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker.”

“Peter,” you repeated softly and oh. He shouldn’t have you feeling this type of way already. You offered him your name, which he also repeated, testing it out to get a feel for it. You liked the way it sounded coming from him, “I moved in last week. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, sweetheart,” and there he was, already hitting you with the nicknames. The audacity, “if you ever need anything at all, feel free to let me know. You’re welcome any time, day or night.”

“T-thanks,” your mind absolutely did not have to go and immediately think about going over to his place late at night when you needed something and then - no. Nope. You were definitely not going to let your thoughts go there, “that’s very kind of you.”

“You’re new to the building - it’s nice to know at least one person,” he shrugged lightly, “and maybe make a new friend. But I mean it, my door’s open - metaphorically - anytime.”

“Well, thank you again, Peter,” you opened your door and turned around to cast one last little wave goodbye, “see you around - have a good night.”

“You too, honey.”

Peter stood and watched you close your door, not moving until he heard you lock it. A soft little smile settled on his face as he went back into his own apartment. He didn’t mean to be so invasive, but curiosity - and his spidey senses - got the better of him and he listened to you shuffle around your apartment, muttering softly under your breath. Damn; he liked you already.

He’d known you when you moved but had been tempted to come over and help, but he also didn’t want to scare you off either. But he had also just offered himself up to you practically 24/7….maybe it was too late. Either way, he hoped he’d get to see you again.

Meanwhile in your apartment, you were trying not to have a breakdown. How did you manage to fuck up a simple conversation? He probably thought you were an idiot; he probably didn’t even want you to come over. Peter seemed like he was the type of guy that was nice to everyone. Maybe you could just avoid him forever and pretend this never happened.

“Peter Parker,” you whispered to yourself, flopping on the couch and pulling out your phone. A little online…research wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? You cast a furtive look around, as though he was suddenly going to appear in your doorway, “let’s see what you’re about.”

Several background episodes of some old TV show, a helping of chocolate, and over an hour of online snooping, you’d found out a lot about Peter Parker. He was some sort of genius scientist by day, an amateur photographer on the side, and apparently a huge geek. Ugh. As if you needed more reasons to like him. How could he be hot, smart, and nerdy? Unfair.

You closed out every app and tossed your phone to the side before sighing heavily. This might prove to be harder than you’d thought. Peter Parker was going to be a menace…you could just feel it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As fate would have it, your plan to avoid Peter Parker did not go well. It did not go well at all.

From the first time you met him, you seemed to run into him all the time; leaving for or coming from work, in the laundry, even out in public. At first you had tried to play it off and keep interactions brief, but the more you kept seeing him the more you wondered if it was all a sense of timing…or was it fate?

Either way, you stopped questioning; you allowed yourself to become friends with Peter. Friends that just so happened to be flirty with each other. Which was totally normal…who didn’t flirt with their friends every once in a while. Right? Right. What happened between the two of you would happen and you decided to let things flow naturally.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That all came to a head one chilly winter night.

It was later in the evening and you were winding down for the day when your heating went out. And as luck would have it, it was just cold enough that you needed the heater. You had no clue how to fix it and it would be too late to call the maintenance line and your mind only went out to one thing, or one person rather, Peter.

You pulled on a hoodie and toed on your slippers before padding across the hall. There was a moment of hesitation as you raised your hand but couldn’t quite bring yourself to knock. Before you could make a decision one way or the other, the door opened and Peter stood on the other side, “hi.”

“H-hey,” you hadn’t even made a sound and yet he still knew you were at the door…weird. But that was the least of your concerns at the moment. You were desperately trying not to stare at him too closely; he was wearing a pair of sinful gray sweatpants and a well fitted t-shirt. The urge to throw yourself at him was ridiculous.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

Right. You were here for something entirely different. You mentally slapped yourself before nodding, “I’m sorry for coming so late, and I don’t even know if you’d be able to help but my heating went out and I have no clue what to do. Umm...you know what, it’s okay. I-I’ll figure it out.”

You’d turned to leave, regretting your decision to bother him, but before you could run away, you felt his long, slender fingers wrap around your wrist. You turned to him with wide eyes and he shook his head lightly, “you’re in luck. I happen to be very handy with things like this.”

“Is that because of all the science-y things you do?” you blurted it out before thinking about it as he raised his eyebrows. Right. You weren’t supposed to know about what he did for a living…it had never really come up. You also weren’t supposed to give the fact that you’d stalked him on the internet, “j-just because you seem like a STEM guy. ‘s all.”

Smooth.

“I do happen to be a STEM guy,” he grinned, “let me come over and take a look. I’m sure it’ll be an easy fix - the heating here is just a little finicky.”

“Thank you,” you slinked back to your apartment, handsome man in tow. You were glad that you’d just cleaned up and everything was tidy. Peter looked so good in your apartment and it made the whole domestic daydream hard to ignore, “I’m assuming the heaters are in the same spot. So…yeah. Can I help with anything - get you anything?”

“I’ve got it,” he promised, already walking into the living room where your heater was, “it shouldn’t take too long.”

You made a small sound of acknowledgement as you retreated into the kitchen, deciding to finish up the dishes you had started…while stealing glances at him. It was hard to ignore such an attractive piece of art in your own home. At one point he stretched and his shirt rode up, revealing the patch of hair under his belly button that disappeared under the waistband of his sweats. A wistful little sigh escaped your lips, which you quickly covered up with a cough. You swore you could see a little smirk on his face.

To your delight and chagrin, Peter really was handy and had the heating kicked on and working well in a short period of time. He turned back to you with a triumphant smile and jazz hands, “ta-da! All working again…and probably better than before. Simple circuit issue.”

“I…wow, thank you so much,” you smiled softly, “that’s really kind of you. How can I repay you? Whatever you want, name it and it’s yours.”

Peter’s smile grew bigger and he seriously wanted to answer with a simple you. But instead he shook his head and brushed off your concern, “don’t mention - really, it was nothing. Plus, it gives me a chance to see you again. It’s been a bit...almost like you were avoiding me. Did I do something to scare you off?”

He’d come over now and was standing across from you, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. Peter could read you like a book already and it was just all too easy for him. You bit the inside of your cheek and just shook your head, “n-no, Peter. Of course not, I’ve just been…busy. And didn’t feel the need to bother you.”

“You didn’t feel the need or didn’t want to?” he asked softly, his voice so warm and low that felt like he should be whispering those words directly in your ear. You swallowed thickly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, “tell me, sweetheart.”

“Didn’t want to,” you confessed shyly, “didn’t want you to get tired or annoyed with me.”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of you,” how you’d come to be right in front of him was a mystery but you found yourself looking up into his pretty brown eyes. He reached up and touched your face, brushing his knuckles across your cheek before trailing his fingers along your jaw and down your neck, “sweet, sweet girl.”

“Peter,” he was still new to you, still so much to discover and learn but you already felt like you’d known him for a lifetime. It was such a strange feeling, such a magnetic pull and you didn’t even want to bother fighting it.

“Hmm?” his face was close to yours, and you could feel the warmth radiating off him. He smelled so deliciously warm and soft that you wanted to wrap yourself in his clothes and wanted him all over you, “tell me what you need, honey.”

“Kiss me?” you asked sweetly, “please?”

He answered your simple request by pressing his lips to yours in what started off as a saccharine, soft little thing. With even the slightest taste of him, you were already addicted to him. A little gasp escaped your lips as you looked back at him and found him watching with equal curiosity and tenderness.

And then it happened so fast - he was all over you and you jumped into his arms, letting him kiss you dizzy and leave a lavender haze across your skin. His touch was electric and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so alive. He picked you and carried you to your bedroom so effortlessly, and you felt so soft and delicate in his arms. Your lips barely broke contact as he gently laid you on the bed, looking down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

He gently brushed your hair out of your face, resting his hand on your cheek and leaned into his touch, “we don’t have to-”

“I want this,” you promised softly, “I want you, Peter.”

That was all he needed before caging you in between his arms, leaning down to kiss you more. You could easily - and did - spend hours under him, letting him kiss you and touch every which way It felt like a dream, a sweet fantasy that your lust addled brain had conjured up, but the soft moan and whimpers you were drawing from him reminded you that this was all very real.

“Peter,” his name had never sounded as sweet as it did when it fell reverently from your lips, “please.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promised, nosing along your jaw before placing a kiss to your lips, “I’ve got you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d believed him. You’d believed every sweet word whispered in your ear, every little moan and whimper exchanged that he’d meant them all.

But when you woke up the next morning, golden sunshine and soft bird chirps streaming into your bedroom, you rolled over and fully expected to find his warm body next to yours. But instead you found a chilly emptiness. Strange. You hadn’t even heard him get up, let alone leave you. A pang settled in your stomach as you slid out of bed, feeling the dull ache between your legs as you slid on your shirt from last night.

“Peter?” you padded your way into the hall and kitchen looking for any signs of life; unfortunately you found nothing. A pout worked its way onto your face as you looked around, and in a much smaller voice you spoke into the nothingness, “Peter?”

But he was long gone and you already knew that. There was no note, no anything. You scrubbed a hand over your tired face before sighing to yourself. You should have known - of course it was too good to be true. Peter Parker wasn’t into you and he hadn’t felt any sort of connection. He’d just wanted to have sex…and you’d given right in.

“Dumb, pathetic girl,” you chided yourself before moving to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. You wanted to scrub off every last bit of Peter from your body and home. You decided to let yourself cry and wallow in self-pity while showering; after that it was back to business as usual. Maybe you’d get an answer from Peter later. Maybe you’d find out that this was all some sort of weird misunderstanding. You still had hope that Peter would turn out to be everything you had dreamed he would be.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But…you never got the chance to ask what happened or for him to give you a proper explanation. By mid-afternoon of the day he’d just left, you went over to his apartment and knocked on his door; there was no answer. You figured that he might not have been home, which was fair enough. You decided to just wait for him - he had to come home at some point.

It just wasn’t that day. You didn’t hear him come or go, which just left you more curious than ever.

The day after brought about a new work week, and you knew, from your previous comings and goings that he worked a similar schedule to yours. And yet you still didn’t see him that week. Now you were just getting worried about him. In the few months you’d lived in the building, you’d seen him constantly; it wasn’t like him to just up and disappear. If nothing you figured he might have told you that he was leaving or going to be gone.

It wasn’t until about three weeks later that you’d caught sight of him again. You experienced an odd combination of relief and annoyance when you caught him getting back into his apartment as you came home from dinner with some friends.

“Peter?” your soft voice caught him off guard and he tensed up immediately. He was so lost in his own thoughts that even his heightened senses didn’t detect you. He exhaled shakily as he turned around to face you. You looked so torn at seeing him again, “you’re here. You’re okay…”

“Yeah,” he nodded and cleared his throat. He seemed so different from the man you’d seen last time. He looked more tired too, his hair shaggier and stubble littered his face, “listen-”

“Where did you go?” he could hear the hurt in your voice and it broke his heart, “t-that morning…you were just gone. And then you were gone for weeks. I got so worried…”

He knew this was coming; that’s why he’d spent the last couple of weeks actively avoiding you. Peter hadn’t been gone - he’d just relied on Spider-Man prowess to be able to get into his apartment unseen. He’d spent more nights than he cared to admit sitting near his door and tuning in to you. He just…couldn’t bring himself to face you.

“I’m fine,” but he most definitely wasn’t, “I’m sorry about that night, okay? It shouldn’t have happened, but I’m fine. You’re fine. We can put it behind us and move on…”

“I…what do you mean?” your heart broke at his words and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you, “Peter - can we just talk about this?”

“I’m busy, I’m sorry,” he opened his door and stepped inside his apartment as you stared at him with teary eyes, “I’m sorry.”

He closed the door and locked it before you could say anything else. You stared at the door, processing what had just happened while tears pearled up and ran down your cheeks. How could he just play you off like that? Basically acting like nothing happened. This didn’t feel like Peter - not the Peter you’d come to know and, if you were being honest with yourself, love.

Peter leaned against the door sighing deeply to himself as he listened to your sniffles as you walked into your own apartment. He never wanted to hear you cry again, he especially never wanted to be the cause of your tears again.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself, “fuck.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You thought that things couldn’t get worse after Peter all but dumped you, as a friend and potential lover, but once again you had been wrong.

Very wrong.

I’ve missed two periods wrong. You thought maybe the test was wrong, that the white plastic stick proclaiming pregnant was giving you a false positive. But the six other tests that said the same thing probably weren’t all wrong.

“Fuck,” you tossed the test angrily into your trash can before doing the same thing with the rest of the tests. You couldn’t stand looking at them any longer, have them taunting you mercilessly, “fuck me.”

While it was real, it didn’t feel real real until you left the doctor’s office the following week. They had simply confirmed what you already knew deep down. You were eight weeks pregnant with Peter Parker’s baby. Talk about life throwing you for a loop. But, like without most things in life, except for what happened with Peter, you decided to be rational and figure it all out.

You needed a plan - as long as you had a plan things would work out.

You were at a good place in life and with your career that financially you’d be able to afford a baby. You had a spare room in your apartment that served as a makeshift office that could be a nursery. You had a few close friends and family members that would be able to support you throughout your pregnancy. Realistically, the biggest decision you had to make was whether or not you wanted to keep the baby.

Would you be able to stand living across the hall from Peter while you had his kid? Would he even ask questions and put two and two together? Maybe you could look for a different apartment soon. There was much to think about and much to do, but as long as you made a plan and stuck to it, things would work out.

They had to work out…fuck, you hoped things worked out.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Three months later found you doing better than you’d thought. You’d decided to keep the baby but were still on the fence about moving. The more time that passed, the more you thought moving was the right idea.

You’d tried to tell Peter as soon as you got confirmation of your pregnancy from the doctor. He might have hated you, but he still deserved to know. You wanted him to have the opportunity to choose whether or not he wanted to be in the kid’s life. Even if you didn’t get along, he deserved the choice. Part of you still wondered what had caused the sudden shift in his attitude towards you, but never found out. He avoided you like the plague and if he did see you for some reason he would give you a small hello or pretend that he didn’t see you.

After all this time it still stung. And it was the only reason that he still didn’t know you were pregnant. The thing was, you wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer - but who knew if he would even notice. It almost felt like a weird, cruel joke at this point.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a random Wednesday afternoon that you happened to have off, which led you to take advantage of the nearly empty laundry room. You were just finishing up your last load, putting it all in your basket when you heard someone walk in. The mountain of laundry was large and you didn’t bother looking to see who it was, “I’ll be out in just a second - sorry for hogging all the room!”

When you finally fished the last things out of the dryer, you turned around and found yourself face to face with none other than, “Peter.”

He looked like he’d just seen a ghost as he stared at you, soft honey brown eyes searching yours. Your heart raced, and you were surprised it didn’t burst through your ribcage. A slight look of confusion crossed his features and you caught the way his eyes looked over you before flicking down to your belly. You swallowed thickly, suddenly glad that you’d worn a pretty baggy old t-shirt; it hid the fact that you were definitely starting to show.

“Hey,” he choked out, raising his hand in a weak little wave. It was more than you’d gotten from him in some time, “h-how’re you?”

“I’m okay,” it wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the full truth either, “how are you?”

“Okay,” he admitted, and you wondered if it was a lie. He held up his hand and flailed it around, as if he was trying to magically conjure up the words he was looking for, “d-do you…I, umm…can we talk?”

“Not right now,” you felt your eyes welling up with tears as you grabbed your basket and held it as best as you could in order to avoid resting it against your belly. How could he just so casually want to talk months later? He had all this time and now he was going to ask, “I’ve gotta go. I-I’ll see you around, Peter.”

You pushed past him, arm brushing against his and sending electric shivers shooting down your spine as he watched you go. He stared at you, finding himself unable to move or say anything else. He brought his hands to his face and groaned loudly; once again he’d managed to mess this up. But something had been…different about you today. Peter couldn’t quite place it yet, but there was something going on. And he was determined to find out - and beg for forgiveness if he had to.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One of the many things that had come along with pregnancy were the lovely bouts of insomnia that popped every once in a while. Nothing you did - or didn’t - do seemed to help and it left you more restless than anything else. Some evenings you would bake, some nights you read, some nights you’d watch TV. But on this particular evening, you found yourself pacing around endlessly; instead of just walking around your apartment, you decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. It seemed like a big of a crazy idea but the neighborhood and most of New York City was fairly safe and quiet these days, probably thanks to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

You pulled on a pair of sweats and a thin zip up and headed outside, one earbud in with your true crime podcast of the moment in your ear. And for a while, nothing seemed out of place, and your suspicions weren’t raised.

Not until a red and blue blur passed in your peripheral and caused you to stop in your tracks. Out of nowhere Spider-Man appeared right in front of you, causing your eyes to widen. You pulled the earbud out and stuffed it into your pocket as you studied the man in front of you, “Spider-Man?”

“Last time I checked,” he responded cheekily, holding his arms out and pretending to study them with interest, “what are you doing out so late? It’s dangerous!”

“Umm,” the fact that he was talking to you like he knew you personally threw you off, “I was just going for a quick walk? I-is that not allowed anymore?”

“This late?!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged lightly, unsure of why this seemed so important to him. Your hand had instinctively gone to your bump, and you stroked it gently, “and my back was hurting so I thought a walk would help?”

He tracked your movement and you were almost sure you heard him inhale sharply, “y-you’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you whispered with a small, fond smile, “this kid is very active and likes to be up at all times of the day and night. Makes it hard to keep a normal sleep schedule at times…I mean none of this is normal…but, you know what, I’m gonna shut up now because you definitely don’t need to hear about all of this.”

“What a-are you having?” his voice grew soft and you found yourself drawn into him. He was Spider-Man after all, he saved kids all the time, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he cared.

“A girl…in about four months,” you told him excitedly, eyes lighting up with happiness, the white eyes of the suit narrowed as he studied you, a gentle silence falling over the two of you. You cleared your throat when he didn’t say anything, “I, ugh, I should get going. Maybe I will try and see if she’ll let me get some rest. She’s calmed down a little bit…since you showed. You must hold some kind of magic over her, she probably likes your voice.”

He stood there frozen, so you offered him a small wave before walking past him in order to loop around the block back to your building. It was quiet at first and you thought you were alone when you heard rapid footsteps coming after you, “wait! Please - wait.”

“Huh?” Spider-Man was there again and this time he took your hand and pulled you into a small walkway between buildings. He was breathing nervously, “are you okay? Do you need…something?”

He paused for a moment before raising a shaking hand to the back of his neck. You watched as he pulled the mask off slowly, revealing himself to you which caused you to gasp loudly as you stared at the man in front of you, “Peter?”

“H-hi,” he said meekly as you a hundred different emotions seemed to flash across your face, “I fucked up.”

“What is going on?” there were those overwhelming emotions again, bringing up those big, fat crocodile tears that rolled down your cheeks, “you’re Spider-Man? I…all this time? Why…I don’t understand.”

“She’s mine, isn’t she?” he asked, although both of you were well aware of the answer, “the other day, in the laundry room, I-I heard it - the two heartbeats but only saw you. It makes sense now…”

“Y-you left me,” was all you managed to get out before you were sniffling heavily and wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, “I-I tried to tell you. Y-you just left and never told me why.”

“Sweetheart-”

“You broke my heart Peter,” you flinched out of his touch when he tried to reach for your hand; he hated the fact that he made you feel like that, “and you never even told me why.”

“Please, let me explain, I can-”

“No,” you shook your head fervently, as you took a step back, “no. I tried to talk to you so many times, and you just ignored me. I tried to tell you that I was pregnant but you just…shut me out. It’s too late for that, Peter.”

“Don’t walk away,” he begged, his own eyes glistening with tears, “please.”

“Give me one good reason why,” you pushed back.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Don’t,” you held up your hand, shaking your head. Funny - you’d been wanting to hear those words for so long and now you heard them they felt wrong. The worst part of it all was that you needed him to be serious, “you don’t get to leave me for months and avoid me and just do this. That’s not fair, Peter.”

“I never meant to,” he insisted, groaning at himself, “I-I can explain, please-”

“No, Peter,” you took a step back, your own heart breaking all over again, “I’m not going to keep your daughter from you - if you want to be a part of her life. That wouldn’t be fair of me and I want her to have the opportunity to know her father and you to know your daughter. But us…we…I don’t know, Peter. I think it’s too late for that.”

“I understand why you hate me,” he insisted, trying his best to get to you to stay, “give me ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking for, to explain everything.”

You worried your bottom between your teeth, wanting to walk away but finding it impossible. After a few beats of tense silence you have him a singular nod, “ten minutes. That’s it.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The fact that you found yourself in Peter’s apartment again, after all these months, was oddly comforting. Everything felt and looked the same, which for some reason provided a weird sense of familiarity. You sat on the couch, grabbed the blanket off the back without thinking about it and curled up under it; the fact that you still did put a small smile on Peter's face.

“Go on then,” you raised an eyebrow, “talk.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” he sighed lightly, “it’ll be a mess but I want to get it all out there. I-I’m Spider-Man…obviously. I have been for a long time, and it’s not something people know for obvious reasons. There’s less than a handful of people that know who I am.”

“Oh,” you met his eyes and frowned slightly. Of course your first thoughts were worry about him getting hurt. But then it suddenly clicked, “all those times you got hurt…the bruises and scratches and - wow. It makes sense now.”

“Listen, sweetheart,” he rubbed a hand over his tired face, “the woman I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with…she knew. She found out, and she…she’s dead. She’s been for a long time now. I couldn’t save her - the reason she died was because of me. I got mad, angry…bitter and rageful. For so long, I was just so sad and angry all the time. It took years before I finally got it into my head that she - Gwen - wouldn’t want me to be like that. She would want me to be happy and move on with my life. So I did; I’ll never forget her or stop loving her.”

“Peter,” your eyes were welling up with tears as you watched him pace around the living room. You could tell that this was not easy for him, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I also made myself a promise that I would never get someone involved again. No one was going to know that I was Spider-Man,” he gave you a soft, sad smile, “if no one got close to me, they couldn’t get hurt, right? That was my logic - the less people knew about me, the fewer people I knew, the better. The last thing…the last thing I expected to do was to fall in love.”

The two of you looked at each other, both of you on the verge of having tears spill your cheeks. You opened and closed your mouth a few times as he crouched down in front of you. He reached up and gently touched your cheek, wiping away the tears you hadn’t even realized fell. You leaned into his touch as you looked at him with the softest eyes, “I never expected to feel anything close to that. But then I met you. And I just knew you were going to be trouble from the first day I met you.”

“Good trouble?” you asked softly and he nodded.

“The best trouble,” he agreed, “and you made it so easy, and I stopped worrying about the consequences. It didn’t matter anymore…and then that night, when we had sex, I just…I realized that I did - do - love you. And I panicked, I panicked and ran away like a coward.”

“You did,” you agreed softly, “you didn’t even leave a note. I thought…I thought you regretted it and that you thought it was a mistake.”

“I can understand why you thought that,” he traced his fingers along your jaw, studying your features and refamiliarizing himself with them, “I didn’t think that at all. I just…all I could think about was you getting hurt. That someone would find out about you and they’d hurt you. And, in my very flawed logic, I thought that pushing you away was the best thing. If you hated me, you wouldn’t want to be around me, and then you’d be safe. That’s what I thought anyway.”

“I could never hate you,” you promised, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and gently taking his hand into yours, “never. Peter, you’re an idiot and a fool, but I can’t even be mad because your heart was in the right place. You didn’t go about it correctly but I get it.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “that’s all I can say and hope that you can forgive me. I’m sorry that I’ve been such a dick that you’ve had to go through this on your own.”

“I know,” you swallowed thickly, “I tried to tell you, but…yeah. Listen, I’m going to keep her and I don’t want you to feel forced into being a part of her life. But if you want to be, I would never say no. Obviously, you know, I didn’t intend on having sex once and forgetting to use birth control and getting pregnant. It’s a mess really…but I couldn’t give her up.”

“I know I’ve been a dick and you don’t have to say yes, but I’d like to be involved,” his eyes grew nervous, “you’ve still got a while of being pregnant and I’d like to help however I can. It takes two to tango after all.”

“I’d like that,” you agreed and he felt his heart flutter happily, “Peter…I’m not saying things will just go back to how they were right away, but…I love you.”

“You…what?!”

“I love you,” you repeated with a small laugh and oh. He’d missed that beautiful sound so terribly much, “I have for a long time too. And if you…if you want to, I-I’m willing to work on things and try again?”

“Really?”

“Really,” you grinned, “you know that old saying, don’t give up on something that could be great just because it’s not easy or whatever? I think that applies here. So, if you’re in, I’m in. But, Peter, my love, please just talk to me, okay? Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, but we can’t do that if you shut me out.”

“I won’t,” he promised, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, “I swear it. I want this - you.”

“Good,” you leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, “I want you too, Spidey. We’ll figure it out.”

“We will,” he agreed softly, “do you…have any pictures of her o-or anything?”

“Of course,” you took his hand and placed it gently on the swell of your belly. You watched as his entire body relaxed and his face softened, “I’ve got plenty of sonogram pictures of the blob. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment in a few days, would you like to come with me?”

“Yeah,” he leaned in, hesitantly for a moment, and you repeated the action, pressing your forehead against his, “I’d love to.”

“Peter? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you kiss me?” he laughed lightly as you beamed at him, “pretty please?”

“Yes,” he promised, “any time, sweetheart.”

#peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter #andrew!peter x you #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader

871 notes · View notes

arien-rey · 7 months

Text

cw: a little angst, suggestive touching

an: i’ve been daydreaming of an angry make out sess with miguel for DAYSSS so enjoyyy🤭

wc: 600+

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the bustling city of your home New York, you found yourself sitting on the edge of a rooftop. After a particular intense mission, you begin catching a breath and with great care begin to wrap the tender, bleeding wounds that scattered your body and torn spider suit with bandages. You hiss at the aching pain, however, you’re relieved that atleast you managed to escape without any broken bones. Just as you finish up, you tap a few buttons on your watch to radio HQ about your successful mission before the sound of footsteps catch your attention. You swiftly stand up and turn to confront the stranger behind you, but to your surprise you’re met with the towering figure of your colleague and trusted friend?(boyfriend? it was complicated) Miguel O’Hara. With a quick click of his watch, his mask swiftly disintegrates and reveals his cold, darkened expression. He must have used his watch to travel to your dimension.

“Oh, Miguel,” you exclaim, trying to mask your exhaustion and aching pains. “What are you doing here?”

He stops infront of you, his brows knitted together in concern. “what am I doing here? are you kidding me? do you have any idea what you put us through today? we thought you were dead!” he spat, his intimidating gaze locked onto yours.

Surprised by his sudden outburst, you take a step back. “Miguel.. I’m sorry—I thought I had everything under control. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.” you say, a hint of guilt simmering under your skin as you feel his gaze drift to your bandaged wounds.

“thats the thing, you shouldn’t be risking you life like that!” he snapped, his voice laced with frustration and concern. He grimaces and runs a stressed hand through his dark hair, trying to keep himself somewhat composed. “what ever happened to sticking together? What made you think it was okay to fight this anomaly without telling anyone?”

You could see the raw emotion in Miguel’s eyes, and you bite your cheek. You’ve never seen this side of Miguel before, so vulnerable and protective. It ignited a flame within you, and a strange concoction of frustration and desire slowly stirred inside you.

“Well, maybe i didn’t want to you rely on you all the time,” you retort, glaring up at him, voice dripping with defiance. “I can handle myself, Miguel. I’ve been doing this long enough, I dont need a babysitter.”

The tension in the air was palpable as your words hung between you. Slowly, you watched as Miguel’s anger gave way into something else; something more primal. He takes a heavy step forward, his head tilting to the side as he towers over you. His intense burgundy eyes lock with yours, and you don’t falter.

“you dont need a babysitter, huh?” he growls, his voice husky with an undeniable undertone. “Well, maybe you need something else then.”

and before you could say anything, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you forcefully against him. His lips crash onto yours in a searing kiss, released with pent-up emotions and unspoken words.

You gasp into his lips and widened your eyes before quickly melting in his arms. A low rumble escapes his chest as you tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug roughly as the kiss deepens, lighting a fire that courses through your bodies. You moan softly into his mouth, pressing your body impossibly closer to his, the heat between you scorching.

In the heat of the moment, Miguel gently slides the hands off your waist and allows them to roam your body, his rough touches leaving fire in its wake. You shiver as his big hands brush against your skin, his touches gentle so he doesn’t press on your wounds. A complete contrast to how his lips pressed greedily and possessively against yours.

As you finally pull apart gasping for air, you could see a mixture of emotion in Miguel’s eyes. His eyes were narrowed with desire and his cheeks flushed, but now there was something different— a profound affection and vulnerability.

“I’m sorry, I just.. don’t want to lose you too,” he confesses, voice laden with raw emotion and want.

As you stare at each other in disbelief, the argument is momentarily forgotten. Suddenly the rooftop is quiet again, except the sound of your racing hearts.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #smut #miguel o’hara smut #<3 #miguel ohara #miguel smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x oc #miguel x you #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x oc #2099<3

253 notes · View notes

tr34sure · 6 months

Text

Redroom || Han Jisung

Summery: Your stalker finally having the courage to kidnap you and he’s most definitely going to have some fun after doing it.

Warnings: Consented sex, the use of the name (my love,) maybe a little knife play, sex toys, blood licking!! MINORS DNI!! ⛔️

A/n: This was something in works and song recommendations: 7th sense nct, and Thinkin bout you by Frank Ocean. I didn’t proof read this at all I just wrote 🤷🏽‍♀️

You are in a red-themed room with a large king-sized bed, dim lighting, various knives and BDSM tools scattered around. The walls are adorned with leather straps and whips, and there's a big mirror on one side of the room. The only source of light comes from a chandelier in the middle of the room, casting eerie shadows everywhere. The scent of leather and sex fills the air.

“Where-where am I?” I stutter as I stare at the black shadow in front of me from what looks like a man. “You are in my red room.” He answered slowly walking towards me giving me a good glimpse of his face.

To your surprise, he didn't look as bad as you thought he would. You had expected him to be a creepy old man, but he turned out to be completely different.

His long face shape is complemented by his somewhat messy hair, and his doe-like dark brown eyes are gentle, suggesting that he has a gentle, innocent nature added to him, which is now far from the truth about him.

“Do you want to know why you're here, my love?” He picks up a knife, with a sinister smile on his face. I quickly shook my head as pure terror crossed my face.

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he approached me and reached out for my cheeks, cupping his hands around them. I try to pull away but he only pulls me back in again to face him. “Look at me Y/n” his sadistic tone echoes through your head. I then glare at him, giving him what he wants. “You’re here because I love you.” He bends down in front of you tilting his head towards you as he stares at you intensely, his eyes filled with admiration and desire.

His lips curl into a devious smile, as he starts pointing the blade at your leg, cutting through the fabric and touching your skin. You felt panic rise in you trying your best to calm down. I mean he said he loves you so that means he wouldn’t want to hurt you right? News flash you were so wrong about the statement.

He pushes the point of the knife into your skin, drawing blood you grasped at the sharp pain as the blood flows from the cut. You feel a mix of pain and pleasure as his tongue traces along the cut on your skin. Your vision blurs, and all you can focus on is the sensation of his warm breath against your wound. You gasp softly, trying to process the intense feelings coursing through your body.

As you watch him lean in closer, you feel a rush of heat spread through your core. His lips brush against the cut, and you let out a soft moan. The sensation of his tongue against your skin sends shivers down your spine. You try to pull away from him , but your body refuses to cooperate. The pleasure he's giving you is too intense, and you find yourself helplessly caught in his grasp. You let out a soft whimper, unable to deny the overwhelming desire that's taking over your body.

The sudden stop catches you off guard, and you feel a bit of relief and disappointment all at once.

Maybe it was good that he stopped because you shouldn’t have enjoyed it the way you did, but you just couldn’t help it no matter how hard you tried not to.

“Do you give me your consent?” He said looking up at you, at that moment your mind was blurred, you couldn’t even think straight but you ended up saying your answer “Yes.” You blurted out to him at which he smirked at.

Jisungs hands moved down to your hips, gripping your skin tightly. With a sudden tug, your pants and underwear are pulled down your ankles leaving your bottom half completely exposed, a sense of humiliation and vulnerability washed over you.

You watched as Jisung grabs the pink vibrator from his large collection of BDSM toys, “I imagined you using this vibrator so many times and now it’s finally happening.” He said, staring at your exposed cunt.

He presses the vibrator against your folds, you gasped at the sudden contact, but it feels so good he starts to thrust the toy in and out of you you throw your head back, moaning loudly as the sensations inside you build up.

Jisungs eyes lights up at your loud moans, seeming to take pleasure in knowing that he’s the one causing you so much pleasure, as you grasp and cry out he increases the vibrations thrusting deeper and faster inside of you.

As you approach your climax, your body starts to tense up, and you feel a warm rush between your legs milking the vibator for all it’s worth, you let out a long, low moan, and your hips buck against Jisungs hands. With a loud cry, As you’re finally about to cum Jisungs suddenly removes the vibratior from your pussy.

You cry out in surprise and disappointment. Jisung leans in close to your face whispering “You were so close baby but you're not gonna cum with that.” He chuckled darkly.

#han jisung #kpop smut #kpop yandere #stalker au #kpop #kpop fanfic #stray kids #skz x reader

119 notes · View notes

cupids-chamber · 1 year

Text

— I'M GONNA LOVE YOU, RIGHT TILL' YOU HATE ME GENDER NEUTRAL READER

IMAGINE: Yandere!Twst cast, dreaming of the MC, before they ended up Twst, and even though they searched for them, they couldn't quite find them... now that they've found them.. they can't seem to let you go.. how would they feel when they've learned that there are more competitors for your love.

A/N: I'm gonna call this the dreaming of you au! I have some plans for it.. I had to split this in part, because of tumblr's fucking word limit.

SAVANACLAW / HEARTSLABYUL / DIASOMNIA / OCTAVINELLE / SCARABIA + IGNIHYDE / POMEFIORE

He couldn’t recall when the dreams had first started, it was quite suffocating.. Looking back, he was tired of the same dream over and over again, yet it changed.. Slowly, he watched you growing up along with him, it was as if his dreams mirrored your own life.. And at one point, he believed that these vivid dreams held some meaning, there had to be a reason why he’d keep seeing the same person over and over again… At one point, he even started to believe that you were his.. Someone meant for him.. And as he grew older, he couldn’t help but search for you, wanting to validate his thoughts and imagination, which has gotten rather out of hand over the past few years.

He didn’t even consider that others would have taken interest in you as well, ‘did they see you in their dreams as well?’.. The thought would have driven him wild, had he not been patient thus far, he might have truly lost himself then and there.. However, if he had waited this long, then it wouldn’t have been difficult to wait a bit longer.. After all.. He knew you a lot better than you know yourself.. He just needs you to realize.. That you’re his.. and he is yours…

YANDERE!IDIA, He recalls losing sleep, scrolling through the internet, scattering sources, trying to trace your whereabouts, all to no avail.. he remembered your name, that he heard you say once or twice in his dreams, you'd rarely speak to him... how he wished he could approach you in these vivid daydreams.. but your voice played through his head on loop, like a broken record repeating the same tune over and over again, as he recites the dream he had that particular day... You couldn't imagine his shock when he saw you, for the very first time.. he couldn't help but grow jealous when he inquired about how others had seen you beforehand, maybe he should have taken an interest in the so called magicless perfect beforehand, but how could he think of others, while his mind was so incredibly crowded with thoughts of you..

YANDERE!KALIM, Kalim had been a sweetheart from young, he couldn’t have ever guessed that there may have been an underlying meaning to his dreams.. Until he took notice of its repeating nature, he’d have the same dream over and over again, it was quite tedious.. aggravating even.. However, Kalim was known to be patient, unlike his peers. He was always calm, however one shouldn’t confuse his patience as him being dimwitted, sure Kalim wasn’t the brightest in the box, but he wasn’t an utter buffoon, he knew when something was wrong.. well most of the time.. He questioned the dreams, and the day he did.. He dreamt of something different, still his dreams centered around you as always.. And it was quite consistent, soon the old books on dreams and astrology became quite boring to the young child, he picked up a story book.. an odd story book indeed, he never knew this sort of book was in publishing, none the less it was quite conveniently placed near him, and in its contents Kalim came to learn of an odd concept.. dreaming of your soulmate, and dreaming of someone who was born just for him.. The concept seemed quite outdated and far fetched, but he couldn’t help but believe it! Kalim had always been such a hopeless romantic in such scenarios.. One could argue this is how he was raised, or maybe the book had blurred his thoughts.. Yet, when he first laid eyes on you.. he was sure you were meant to be his!.. Anyone who said otherwise, was but an inconvenience.. Just like anyone who gets in his way..

YANDERE!JAMIL, Jamil had been serving Kalim for the longest time, truly he couldn’t catch a break.. not when he was so.. ridiculously annoying.. even during slumber he couldn’t catch a break, ever since you appeared!, truly at first he resented you more than anything, another pestering source of annoyance, ruining his day and mood, yet he was lucky to have never been able to face you, at least then he could loathe you secretly and remain at peace within himself.. But he began despising his dreams for that same reason, fairly soon.. You were.. brilliant. A change to his day to day life, really.. He couldn’t quite recall how he fell for you, just that he had fallen for you.. Around this time Kalim kept blabbering on and on about a certain person he kept meeting in his daydreams, Jamil was too concerned about himself to spare a single care to his words, until he had heard about an unexpected book he had read.. The contents of which interested him quite lots’... ‘Soulmates, that’s ridiculous..!’ He thought, closing the book and refusing to look back, he couldn't delude himself further, he was above thinking of such childish things, and believing the contents of such ludicrous things. Yet he met you, here on the very school grounds.. He didn’t know how to react, maybe the contents of the book weren't as far fetched as he had predicted, maybe the two of you were predestined…

860 notes · View notes

shadesoflsk · 4 months

Note

Hi Ruby! I’m asking for #66 for the drabble game, a Leon x reader drabble, choose which ever Leon you want surprise me. Thank you hun 🩶🫶

hi nic !! I don't know why I had such a hard time deciding what I'd write for this one.😭 At first I thought I should write something fluffly but I had no ideas. But ultimately I decided to write something I've never done before so...... friends with benefits it is! This is angsty because I live for it hehe 😼 (Btw, I had damnation Leon in mind.) Thank care <333

66. “The only thing I want is you.” summary: fwb leon kennedy x gn reader, implied sexual settings but nothing explicit, angst, mentions of alcohol. wc: 1.0k

Generally speaking, time for Leon was borrowed. His stay on earth was merely a passing-through journey —or at least he thought so. Funnily enough, when he tried his best to stay stoic and indifferent to relationships, you appeared in his life.

He wanted to compare you with the sun casting its light on a gloomy and depressive day. Yet, your whole existence was a thorn in his side, but he couldn’t blame you. As ridiculous as it sounds, the problem was him.

It all started as a simple friendship, you two shared things in common and therefore it helped to settle down into something deeper, but still nothing too intimate to get scared of. Ultimately, both of you found yourselves tangled in a friends with benefits relationship.

Rules were established and boundaries were set. Neither of you had any troubles when you decided to engage in this situationship. For him, it was a perfect opportunity to let off some steam, you were just one call away and he could lose himself in the warmth of your body and bed.

And you? Well, nights with him didn’t sound so bad.

Leon is a man of few words, you’ve always known that. At first, nights were spent with nothing more than grunts and moans that almost sounded like heavy whispers. Even the lights were turned off in an attempt not to see you as the light washed over his and your body. He was following the rules just fine.

However, the fine line between friendship and love started getting blurry and Leon couldn’t distinguish them. At first, you brushed it off as Leon simply forgetting the rules. After sex, one of you needed to leave the apartment —depending on where they were. To Leon, the act of sleeping next to someone was way more intimate than fucking. Weird, you thought. But then again, rules are rules.

Nevertheless, he started bending those rules as he wished. If you were more honest with him —more straightforward, you might have told him off when he asked you to stay longer. Just to chat, like friends do, right?

But you weren't.

As you lay there, exposed to the cold of his room with nothing more than a thin blanket to surround your body, he tells you about his missions and his wishes. Conversations that used to be so common when you were just friends, nothing more.

But now, everything was different and you couldn’t let him drown into something you didn’t want to involve yourself with. Besides, having a tipsy Leon who was letting his emotions flow so easily wasn’t something ideal.

“Do you want some more wine? I could pour you so–”

“The only thing I want is you.”

There was no trace of his usual teasing and flirty tone he would use whenever you got in the mood. Behind the words he spoke, there were hidden years of solitude and yearning to feel loved.

And those same blue orbs that hold so many memories of being a puppet lock with yours as he watches how your face falls for a second, before returning to your resting face.

“You don’t mean it.” You say with no ounce of doubt, asserting the fact that he shouldn’t have said that. Not now, not ever.

“Yes, I know what we decided but maybe we could just try and—”

“Leon, I’m not asking you nor bargaining a possibility. You don’t mean it.” There is no room for feelings or confessions at this very moment. Your words reach a conclusion before Leon can even form his thoughts.

“That night we agreed to this. No feelings, no strings attached.” You reach for the clothes that were previously scattered, an obvious proof of what your agreement with Leon was. “I should’ve stopped the first time you asked me to stay longer.”

Leon silently observes you as you quickly throw on your clothes and fix your hair. His heart aches knowing that he just dropped a bomb that was destined to detonate. And now, he’s just a bystander of your imminent leaving.

And he knows that it’s selfish of him to even utter those words, he never deceived you nor did he want to. His statement couldn’t be more stupid, he was the mastermind of this dynamic but he was the first one to fall.

“Look at me.” You break the silence as you stand in front of him, he has remained seated on the bed as you were getting ready to leave. And now even looking at you brings him a wave of embarrassment and a hint of humiliation.

“You’re amazing. I’m glad to call you a friend even if we just… yeah.” You sigh in frustration as you predict this may as well be the last time you can be genuine with him. After his attempt at confessing, you don’t know how you can fix the relationship. Having sex was something, falling in love was out of the picture.

“But neither of us is ready for a relationship.” You grant him a gentle touch, brushing away a strand of hair that fell on his forehead. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t even know if he will survive whenever he goes on missions.”

The knife that was already stabbed into his heart twisted and sank deeper. And when it bled, he thought he deserved it. He fell into the spiderweb of emotions and love but he couldn’t escape from this evident ending. You wouldn’t —even if you reciprocate his feelings— be in a relationship with him.

“Sorry…” You too are players of the same game. And, as it ends, there was no point in following the rules. So, you lean closer and place a kiss on his forehead, letting your lips linger there for a few seconds as if trying to memorize how it feels.

Ironically, you had shared many nights losing each other in the name of stress relief. Nonetheless, the gentleness of this one kiss brings a hint of intimacy that has your soul hurting as you pull away.

And swiftly as a draught of air, you disappear from his room and from his sight. In a state of dullness, he accepts his destiny. Loneliness, once again, fills his heart and body.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil

49 notes · View notes

dragonprincebr · 8 months

Text

[ENGLISH] Interview with Devon Giehl!

O Príncipe Dragão Brasil Team realized an exclusive interview with The Dragon Prince's Lead Writer and Producer, Devon Giehl! We asked about episode 8 from season 5, as well as questions by fans!

We translated the interview so more people can read about it! Here's the portuguese version.

Finnegrin was such an interesting and exciting villain! How did you guys created him, and is there any chance he survived?

Devon Giehl: It started because we wanted to take the characters to a sort of pirate town after they lost Zubeia’s help, they needed a boat to get down the coast. We started developing the idea of Scumport first and then we decided that the minor villain they would encounter In Scumport, this pirate-y lawless town would be Finnegrin. At first, he was only meant to antagonize the cast for one episode, but we had so much fun coming up with stories about the pirate town that we decided to invent the three-part arc in order to be able to fully tell a bigger story about the pirates and the trouble that Callum and co get in with him. So, we ended up saying “what if he chases them?”, “what if he’s part of the plot for the next 2 episodes?” that he pursues them and eventually captures them. We wanted him to be really mean, but also charismatic and charming and he was inspired by the character Al Swearengen from Deadwood. In terms of any chance of him surviving, I think it’s possible, I like to imagine that he had some magical or clever way of escaping his fate. I would like to see him again because I really had fun writing him. Maybe he got out, it’s possible, he’s a powerful ocean mage and a tidebound elf, so maybe. I know that there were jokes about why does he worry about drowning and I was like “why did I write it that way?” but I think even tidebound elves probably have ways of dying. It’s probably more of a metaphor than literally. If you go down far enough anything will be crushed down there. And she’s an Ocean dragon, she can probably just kill him in multiple ways.

In our understanding, a major theme of the episode was the lack of control of things that are bigger and deeper, like the tides of the Ocean, the dark parts of ourselves, which are things we can’t and shouldn’t control. And we wonder what will it mean for Callum, who values his freedom and his choices, when considering that in the last season, Callum lost control of himself when possessed by Aaravos, and now he reached this understanding of the Ocean arcanum.

DG: As a character, Callum explores the themes of freedom and to me that connects to themes of growing up in a way that there is this moment when you are young, especially when you are an early teenager, you gain some sense of self and you realize your individuality, your potential, the limitless power you can potentially have in the world.

You come into yourself in a powerful way and it’s really exciting and you feel like you can do anything. And then very quickly, as you get a little bit older, you come into a place where you realize it’s not that easy. There’s so many things in the world that are bigger and scarier than you, and you start to feel more powerless in how you may confront them, overcome them, and whether or not you even can, you start to make decisions more out of fear sometimes, out of desperation, you compromise parts of yourself, and it wears the way that person thought the world was infinite.

For Callum, in season 2 when he unlocked the Sky Arcanum, he was over the moon, he was excited, the entire world was open to him, he was free of everything. But now, he is a couple years older, a couple years wiser, for better and worse, and this is a scenario in which he was sort of backed into a corner and the only way out he could see was doing something that he didn’t want to do. To me it’s tough ‘cause it changes what he might think he originally believed in only connecting to the Sky. And it makes him a little bit more complex, he rattles his assumptions about his potential and he’s not quite sure anymore if he is who he thought he was going to be and I think all of us go through that at some point of our lives, and it’s really hard.

With maturity comes the sort of darker awareness of dangers of the world and your very small place in it. Whereas the Sky says “look, the whole world is yours, it’s open, beautiful and wild, you can be and do anything”, the Ocean arcanum says like “now, hold on, it’s not quite that easy and infinity possibility does mean that some of these possibilities could be bad”.

Another theme of the Ocean primal is accepting there are dark parts of ourselves, and it seems similar with the Moon primal, that recognizes that there are sides of other people that are hidden from view. So, is Callum ever going to try to tap into Moon arcanum?

DG: There’s a little bit of connection between the Ocean and Moon primal, because they are sort of the push and pull of the tide, they are related, they influence each other. In terms of Callum and the Moon Arcanum, from a more storytelling perspective he might. For me it’s hard to commit to that because the moon it’s Rayla’s special territory. It’s tough because if you have Callum to start to be able to do all this cool Moon magic, it actually kind lessens what Rayla is and what she is capable of. I don’t think it’s necessarily impossible, but I think it takes something away from her in a way we don’t really want the narrative to do currently, which is why we gave Callum his own identity with the Ocean and Sky for the moment. All of the moon stuff is very much how Rayla shines and she’s not going to get other arcanums as a moonshadow elf, we wanna make sure that she still gets to be cool and powerful with what we gave her and not just take that and give it to someone else.

And does the Ocean (and Moon) primal reflects the relationship between Callum and Rayla, considering we also saw the themes of trust between them – even when Rayla temporary hid the truth about what she was doing in his office – and eventually help mend their relationship?

DG: Ooh, that's spicy. I think both of them keep a lot inside, specially stuff that they feel ashamed of or frightened by, and I think that’s very natural for a lot of young people, even people in general. Rayla kept what she was doing from him, and it wasn't necessarily an attempt to hurt him or deceive him, it was very much because she didn’t know how to handle what she learned about the coins, she had no answer, she felt like “maybe if I learn a bit more, I can do something about it, but I’m not sure” and then in the end she has her little vision and she decides “I can’t figure this out right now, even though I really want to, I’m gonna have to go help Callum”‘. So I think it was very personal for her, even when you are in really loving relationships. They are not currently dating, but they do care about each other very deeply, there are still things you attempt to handle on your own and not share even with your partner.

I think Callum is a little bit the same way because there is that sort of like not quite mended trust between them, you also see reflected in how he doesn’t tell her right away about what he did to get out of Finnegrin’s grasp. I think once you unlock an arcanum, it doesnt mean you are gonna be a perfect person and act by the thing you’ve accessed, it just sort of is… sort of like mental breakthroughs, but even when you have little mental breakthroughs in real life, you can still screw up and take those breakthroughs and be destructive with them. The trust between them isn’t perfect yet, but they care about each other enough the other is not trying to hurt them. When Callum said at the end of season 4 “I’m so glad you are back”, everything that followed that, to me, was about him living by that realization, he’s not holding things against her, he understands and cares about who she is. It still is not what it was, but it’s more worthy to have her back in my life than to continue to be angry and resentful and sort of keep her at arm’s length. That doesn’t mean that they are gonna be totally honest and share everything with each other right away, so you still see both of them still taking on their individuals burdens and struggling with them.

What were Ezran and Soren feelings on Callum being tortured and then Rayla being almost fed to the Levianthan? We couldn’t get much into it because of time constraints, but we would love to know more!

DG: The episodes are only 22 minutes long. I would’ve love to do a scene where everybody has like a sort of immediate reaction. If I had to write that scene, I think I would have a lot of people, like Soren and Rayla, basically everyone, making a really big effort to see if Callum’s is okay and if Soren is okay, but I think Callum is in that moment… He doesn’t really want everybody’s immediate attention, he would probably say that he was fine and to check on everyone else, and that’s why you see Rayla with Stella, and everybody coming out, letting off the shackles and things like that and then you see Rayla going to Callum, I don’t think anybody ignored him or took him from granted, there was probably a very brief like, everybody checking in with each other, but his emotions were very confusing. He goes and sits down by himself, huddles up. Then Rayla reapproaches him and you see it play out as it did on the show. Everybody was pretty scared.

In this season, we saw Soren bring up the fact that Ezran, despite being king, is still a child. Is this conflict going to be brought up again, perharps by other people in his council or other Human Kingdoms?

DG: I won’t say how it comes out, but I think Ezran struggles as a really young kid versus the King. He talks like a twenty-five year old, he’s like really, really mature and trying so hard to “grown up”, but I think there’s parts of him that are suffering quietly because of that and we will see that come in to play. The fact that he is a child and there are parts of him that aren’t quite ready for all of this will definitely impact some things in the future.

Ezran’s grief in his short story was such an interesting take in his character, and i wonder if we’ll see more about it in the next seasons?

DG: Yes… Is that too much? That short story was more like a tease for the next three seasons, not just season five. So it’s something that's simmering in him during season 5, season 6 and onward. You’ll see a little bit more of it. He’s outworldly, very wise, very perfect, but there is a part of him that’s very vulnerable to pain, just like everybody, It’s easy to say out loud “peace and love and harmony”, but to actually act on that, not harbor any resentment, is super human. Even he is not immune to that. Everybody has things they are mad about.

QUESTIONS FROM THE FANS

Will the first human to ever do primal magic be explored more at some point?

DG: As far as I know, it’s really open ended and would be the subject of its own story, at some point, but i think it would be pretty cool.

Is there a connection between Aaravos and Callum’s mind, to the point of giving him nightmares? Or is there something else you can tell about a connection between them?

DG: I like the idea that he has nightmares, if anyone wants to write fanfiction about it, please do it! I don’t want to say much about their connection, but once Aaravos has control and touched him in some way, this connection still exists and it’s not something that just disappears, it’s with you Forever. That’s all i can say!

Will we see more of the Silvergrove, or if some of its inhabitants will be making an appearence?

DG: That’s too many spoilers, but we will see more Moonshadow stuff, and revisit their culture in a meaningful way.

Can you tell us anything about Claudia’s feelings on Rayla, or if they’ll be explored in the next seasons? Up until now, they didn’t share many positive interactions, and now Rayla was the main responsable for Claudia not freeing Aaravos, and also cut her leg (even if it wasn’t her intention).

DG: I think Claudia blames all 3 of them with the same amount of anger, I don’t think she focus on Rayla specifically. She sees Rayla as somebody who poisoned people who used to be her friends Against her, she hasn’t really taken the time to consider her as a person. She’s “The Elf” and has a really hard time moving on from that, and I think this encounter just reinforced that. It’s a very negative interaction and They didnt enjoy it. I don’t think she’s gonna blame Rayla especifically, it’s those 3 people – her old friends and the elf. It’s not a specific focus on Rayla.

Will we see more interactions between Soren and Corvus?

DG: Yes. Without saying too much about it, there’s na episode written by our sênior writer – Paige VanTassel – about Soren and Corvus and a storyline they go through. It’s extremely funny because Paige is the funniest writer in the room, and i hope people like it, cause they’re just so funny. The dynamic between Soren and his sort of goofy, himbo humour and Corvus who has deadpan reactions is delightful, and Paige made a Whole story about it. You’ll see it in a future season, and I love it!

In season 4, Rayla says “we can’t save everyone”, in response to her decision to no helping the Drake. Is this foreshadowing for something that might happen in the next seasons? Or it means a change of heart, in contrast to her saving Phyrrah back in season 2?

DG: I think when Rayla said that, she was having a very hard time. When you say things that are against your own nature – because i really think she didn’t mean it, she said the most mean, tough thing she could think of because nothing was going the way she wanted it to go. She was struggling with Callum, stuggling to connect with everybody, Soren was kind of annoying her, and I think she said something completely unlike her, in ways that are difficult to take back. And in the next morning she realizes what she did and freaks out, and it’s just another small mistake in her inability to process her own feelings very well. She routinely proves it’s not something she really believes, but in that moment she was feeling pretty low and angry, and it did not lead her to take great courses of action.

Could Callum adapt Manus Pluma Volantus the way he adapted the Ocean runes to allow his friends to breathe below the water?

DG: That’s a really good question. Maybe? To be honest we never though about that. Maybe it might not work the same way. But It’s possible!

About Terry: will his role remain as an emotional support for Claudia, or question what she does – which is something he already does, and in this season he did it twice, so we wonder if it’ll continue?

DG: I think he very much sees a version of Claudia that’s heroic, even though her methods are dark magic, and it’s a choice she’s making to save her father, and he genuinely believes that’s a good cause. He’s not like Rayla, raised to be na assasin, he’s kind of a normal elf, just a guy, he’s not quite aware of the world and the threat of Aaravos and what everybody else is fighting. He understands Claudia wants to save her father, but he has very limited knowledge on what that means.

From Claudia’s perspective, Aaravos is a “bro”, he sat on her shoulders for 2 years and helped preserve her father. So Terry's got a diferent set of information than the main cast, and sometimes people seem to not consider that – he doesn’t know everything our main characters have learned, and we’ve already seen him a couple times Calling her out when she tiptoes on the edge of cruelty, when she gets very angry, when she lashes out at Rayla and doesn’t give her the coins, when she lashes out at the dragon and wants to hurt it instead of just stopping, and that will continue. But he genuinely loves Claudia, he thinks she’s funny, charming, loyal to her family in a way that’s truly beautiful (even if for us, as the audience, is kinda twisted), he’s seen her best version and seen her do incredible things to get what she wants, but she’s slipping a little, and it’s alarming to him, so we’ll see more of that.

#the dragon prince #interview #devon giehl

103 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 1 year

Text

The Soul Trade(ing Card Game) Chapter 2

As was dictated to me by the poll, I have delivered.

(AO3)

“So, uh, Batman,” said Constantine, hating everything about this, “I’ve gotta ask you something.”

“Hn,” said Batman, and Constantine understood he had the man’s whole attention, even though he didn’t look away from the screens arrayed before him. Monitor duty. Constantine was glad the Justice League Dark didn’t have to do that.

(At least, he thought they didn’t. If anyone had ever told him they did, he had promptly forgotten about it.)

“I need you to look into whoever left me this letter.” He dropped the letter on the desk next to Batman and flexed his hands. Yeah, the magic in it was sure something, but it was passive, as far as he could tell, traces picked up from being around something infinitely nastier. It was safe. Probably. It hadn’t blasted any of the people who had handled it between the desk in the Hall of Justice and the Watchtower, anyway.

Batman glanced up only briefly before taking the letter. He read it, quickly, without his posture changing at all.

“Hm,” he said, the tone of the grunt just slightly more contemplative. “Are the claims in this letter legitimate?”

“Well,” said Constantine, “let’s just say that reading it felt like…” His face twisted as he tried to find the words to describe what it had felt like. “Yeah. Even if this bloke doesn’t have everything he says he does, he has… a lot. There are traces on the letter, magically speaking.”

“What’s the effect of that?”

“God if I know,” said Constantine. “I didn’t even notice this. At least, he could go ahead and cast whatever spells on me he wants. Soul’s a lot more intimate.”

With a press of a button, the screens went dark. “You shouldn’t be up here if you’re compromised.”

“Hey, I didn’t even know about this until ten minutes ago!”

“Return to ground.” Batman stood and loomed over him. “I’ll look into who sent this letter and tell you my findings.”

That was probably the best Constantine was going to get. Honestly, he didn’t even want to be on this glorified deathtrap in the sky.

He didn’t like the feeling of getting kicked out, though.

“I’m going to need the letter back. I’ve got my own tests to run on it. Get an idea of what kind of nasty we’re dealing with. Magic stuff.”

Batman handed it back. “I’ll walk you to the Zeta Tubes.”

“What do you mean someone bought your soul?” asked Zatanna. “I thought you’d already sold it ages ago.”

“Yeah, but I guess souls can be resold. Should’ve realized that demons would try to replicate the whole banking hellscape we have here.”

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind,” said Constantine, letting himself sprawl backwards in the chair. It leaned dangerously, the weak leg bending. “I did sell it. I sold it a bunch. Got it set up so no one could really claim it without the others freaking out. Set some time limits on a few earlier ones, that worked pretty well, but, eventually, that didn’t work anymore, no one would bargain for that, and I figured my soul was pretty much a lost cause anyway…” He tucked his hands in his pockets and fingered the lid of his flask.

“Don’t you dare start drinking while I’m here.”

He hauled himself forward. “Far as I can tell, what’s written in the letter is true, as far as the owning part goes. The whole sorry bit and the let’s meet bit, I’m less clear on.”

He did have some thoughts on how to deal with it. But he wasn’t sure how well it’d work, and the guy - if it even was a guy - was a complete unknown.

He shrugged. “I was hoping for a second opinion.” And maybe a bit of… comfort. Something. It felt like the only time he saw Zatanna anymore was if the Justice Morons were poking at stuff no one sane would come close to with a ten foot pole.

(He missed her.)

(He missed when they used to be an item.)

(Which was stupid of him. But he’d never claimed not to be.)

(She wanted to keep things professional though, so. He’d try.)

Zatanna paced around the table. It was clear except for the letter, Constantine having expended much effort into cleaning it off (dumping it onto the nearest alternate flat-ish surface, the seat of a sagging armchair).

“I don’t know how much more I can tell you. There’s magic here, but it’s traces, and it’s… muddled. Do you mind?”

“Go ahead, love.” So much for being professional. Sue him. Some things just slipped out.

Zatanna nodded, evidently not even noticing. “Laever ruoy sterces,” she said, staring intensely at the letter. She shook her head. “Laever sesruc. No, no curses, at least. That’s a relief?”

“Yeah, I guess. But he doesn’t exactly need to curse me through a letter if he’s got everything he says he’s got.”

“Don’t give up just yet. Let me try a few other things. Ezylana eht snigiro fo eht lacigam secart no sight retter. Wow, huh.”

“What?”

“Well, like I said, there are all sorts of magical traces on this thing. Demon magic, which is expected, bits of yours, some of the ambient stuff the Watchtower picks up… but there’s also a lot of spirit magic.”

“You think we’re dealing with some kind of shaman? A summoner?” In addition to demons and whatever else, that was.

“Maybe,” said Zatanna. “There’s death, here, too, but I can’t tell if it’s outright death magic or necromancy.”

Constantine groaned. “The difference is academic. I’m screwed. S’pose I should be grateful or something he didn’t hit me with a compulsion to show up and grovel in front of him, felt the need to give me a heads up before he tortures me for sport or whatever necromancers do for fun.”

Zatanna made a face, but it was very telling that she didn’t deny it was a possibility.

“Just promise me you won’t go looking for this person on your own.”

“Yeah, I’ve got the Bat on it. You know him. Tall scary guy. World famous detective. About as boring as he is scary with all his rules.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Zatanna. “You’re going to need magical backup for this. Call me. Or at least someone who knows what they’re doing.”

The opposite of what he wanted to do, really. People died often enough around him without actively dragging them into his problems, and this was a massive problem.

“Can’t make any promises.”

Because Constantine couldn’t really do anything else about the letter or its contents (besides scream inside his head and swear at himself), he decided to go about business as usual. Exorcisms, investigations, a touch of vampire stabbing, a few (disappointingly dry) ghost hunts. Normal stuff.

At least, it was normal until the demons started to run away from him. They didn’t usually do that, not even the weak ones. He did have a reputation, but not one like that. His reputation was that of a cheat and a con… and someone who got people close to him killed. None of that really put off bloodthirsty demons, who were a right pain to genuinely kill, and who often as not had some connection to old Lucy.

But they were running now, and not just the weaker ones. They weren’t even fighting him. Not getting hellfire tossed at him was nice, but demons were not nice. Ever.

So, what could he do but catch one?

He walked around the circle, double checking to make sure the scuffle with the little imp hadn’t scuffed any lines. He’d made mistakes like that before, and they were never pretty.

“So,” he said, lighting a cigarette, “what’s a demon like you running from little old me for?”

The demon, predictably, hissed at him. Constantine rolled his eyes. Typical.

“I’m going to ask you again, and if you don’t answer, things are going to get real unpleasant for you.” He pointed at those circle. “Read ‘em, if you don’t believe me.”

The demon arched itself like a cat, which was an interesting choice seeing as it wasn’t at all cat shaped.

“You were chasing us, John Constantine,” it said in a deep voice that belayed its size.

“Yeah, and that’s usually your lot’s cue to turn around and jump me. What’s different?”

The demon laughed, unpleasant and high-pitched like a teakettle coming to a boil. “What’s different? What’s different? John Constantine, you know what’s different.”

“Humor me here.”

It chuckled and started pacing around the inside of the circle. “Who owns you, John Constantine?” it asked in a silky voice. “Where is your soul, John Constantine? Not with you. Not with the First of the Fallen. Not with any of the princes of hell, or any god in its palace. Who owns you, John Constantine?”

“What, you’re saying that just because Lucy doesn’t have dibs on me when I die anymore, none of you are interested? Try the other one, it has bells on it.”

“Fool!” shouted the demon, now sounding disturbingly human. “Fool! Fool! A fool you are, but we are not, oh, no. No, no, no, we are not. What manner of thing could steal from them? What manner of thing could satisfy so many demons? What manner of thing could have such essence that it clings to you even now? Who owns you, John Constantine?”

Those were some good goddamn questions. “You’ve got a name for me, or is this you saying you don’t actually know, you’re just so freaked by the idea of it you’re shaking in your boots? Scales. Whatever.”

“Do not mock us, John Constantine,” it said, back to sounding properly demonic. “We are no fool! We know you will suffer.”

Yeah, well, that was just the natural state of the universe, wasn’t it? In any case, it didn’t look like this little punk had any idea what it was talking about. They didn’t tend to be very bright, just smart enough to parrot what they overheard from more powerful demons and dumb enough to give up information when threatened with basic binding spells.

He banished the imp back to Hell with a twist of his fingers.

So. Whoever or whatever had gotten their hands on Constantine’s soul, they were scary enough that demons didn’t want to draw its attention by getting involved with Constantine. Which was. Yeah. Not great. Story of his life.

He’d known that they’d have to be nasty, sure. They’d have to be, to get all of Constantine’s contracts. Constantine hadn’t sold his soul to just anybody. Those first three bastards especially had power. Hell, they’d cured his terminal lung cancer. Partially to avoid a war but mostly to be petty.

Admittedly, after that, he hadn’t been quite so discerning. Or careful about the wording. But he knew that so long as old Lucy had his eyes on him and a finger on his soul, no one would dare collect.

A lot of good that did, in the end.

Who would Lucifer trade with? Why would he give up the right to torture Constantine eternally post-mortem?

Constantine was getting sick of not knowing. He was tempted to just go to that meeting spot, but without more information, that would be unforgivably stupid. Constantine was not stupid. Usually.

His Justice League communicator (foisted on him by the Bat) pinged obnoxiously at the bottom of one of his pockets. He’d forgotten it was in this coat. He sorted through his pockets crossly as it pinged again. It had better be important. He found it under a crumpled bag of crisps and yanked it out with a spray of crumbs.

“What?” he said, shortly.

“Constantine,” came Batman’s deep, gravelly rumble. “I have news.”

Well, crap. “You gonna share that news this century?”

“It would be better to discuss this in-person. You do not have a secure computer.”

“Jesus,” said Constantine. He would have argued, but, technically, Batman was doing him a favor. “Fine, you paranoid maniac. Where?”

‘Where’ turned out to be a low-risk interrogation room in the Hall of Justice. Constantine was not a fan of this arrangement, but he understood it. He was compromised, or whatever, and the interrogation rooms were private and had video screens.

On the other hand, it was in America, and even Zeta Tubes couldn’t help with jetlag. And, worse, it was nonsmoking.

Batman personally escorted him to the room, and turned on the main screen with a remote control. Pictures of a pale-skinned teen with blue eyes and black hair sprung up. School pictures, mostly, but some looked like ID pictures, one was on the cover of a magazine, and another looked like an avatar in a video game.

“Do you recognize this boy?”

“One of your kids?” asked Constantine.

“Answer the question.”

“No, I don’t know him. Should I?”

“He’s the one who dropped the letter off.”

“You’re joking.”

In answer, Batman clicked the remote again, bringing up surveillance videos of the Hall of Justice’s main desk taken from various angles. The clips started off looking normal, the overly clear, expensive footage characteristic of an organization associated with Batman.

But then, static swam over them. Not enough to fully obscure the figure walking into the frame, but enough to be obvious. The boy from the pictures. He walked to the desk, had a short conversation with the receptionist during which he handed over the letter, and then left, taking the static with him.

“Well, hell,” said Constantine. It had been a while since he’d seen a demon take a form like that, but he supposed this one must have learned that he had a soft spot for kids. Or maybe this was a kid. A demon kid. He’d thought he’d taken care of all of his, but wouldn’t have been the first time he’d screwed up, and this whole situation was a collection of screw ups.

“Do you know what could cause the static?”

“Whole range of spells, but I’m gonna bet you already knew that from Zatanna.”

“Hm,” said Batman. “The name of the boy is Daniel Fenton. He is fifteen years old, and his major claim to fame is discovering that a purple-backed gorilla on loan to his local zoo was female. He also makes an occasional appearance on the leaderboards of the video game ‘Doomed,’ where he is a well known player.”

“A demon playing video games. Now I’ve seen it all.” It wasn’t so much that demons couldn’t have hobbies, he just didn’t care to learn them, if they weren’t relevant to beating the crap out of them or tricking them into taking a holy water shower. Then again, there was an outside possibility that ‘Daniel’ wasn’t a demon. “Any of this have a point?”

“Establishing facts,” said Batman. “It is possible that you had encountered him via the internet.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who plays video games?”

Batman clicked the remote again, a map appearing on the screen, a blinking dot appearing in the middle of nowhere, US. “Daniel lives with his older sister, Jasmine, and their parents Drs. Jack and Madeline Fenton in Amity Park.”

“Amity Park?” repeated Constantine.

“Is it familiar to you?”

“I think I looked into it once. Supposed to be haunted. Veil there is maybe a little thin, but nothing on the Tower of London, or, hell, the British Museum. You wouldn’t believe what all those stolen grave goods can get up to together. Your permanently overcast city is more haunted. It’s a dead end.”

“Maybe not. The Drs. Fenton are friends with the billionaire Vladimir Masters, but primarily derive their income from their patented inventions, which include customized ‘branding’ toasters, high-efficiency toilet paper, ultra-lightweight camping gear, various treatments for radiation poisoning, and several items that have been marked classified by the Department of Homeland Security and the Department of Energy, for their use of dangerous energy sources.”

Constantine’s eyebrows went up. Mad scientists mucking about with radiation were generally not in his wheelhouse. Or even riding the same tracks, for that matter. “You think they went poking around in the occult for their ‘dangerous energy sources?’”

“Possibly,” said Batman. “In addition to their inventions, they are moderately well-known in ghost hunting communities, which explains their presence in the reportedly-haunted Amity Park. However, everything they’ve written on the subject indicates that they believe ghosts have a strictly scientific explanation. They also,” continued Batman, the corners of his mouth pulling into a slightly deeper frown, “believe that ghosts are nonsentient and nonsapient.”

“So, they have no idea what they’re talking about. Just some big brains that got sucked in by the kind of fraudsters who started the seance craze. Great. I’m sure Deadman’d love to have word with them. If they could even see him.” He rubbed his chin. “But the must’ve run into something real if their kid’s doing all this. Or if what looks like their kid’s doing all this.”

“You don’t believe Daniel Fenton is the one in the video?”

“Lemme put it this way. Odds of a random kid pulling one over on the demons I sold my soul to are about the same as you developing a sense of humor. Best case scenario, he’s just possessed, or he’s some kind of freak like Klarion.”

Batman grunted in acknowledgement. “Approximately six months ago, Jack Fenton purchased an ‘authentic demon soul contract’ from Ebay.”

Constantine opened and closed his mouth several times. “You’re joking.”

“As you are aware, I have no sense of humor.”

“Jesus Christ. Ebay?”

“The seller was a man named Eric Chambers. Zatanna investigated him earlier this week. He is, apparently, an amateur demonologist who wanted to ‘get out of the game’ and was in the process of selling off all his magical paraphernalia. He had sold several additional versions of your soul contract to another buyer in Amity Park. A known associate of Daniel Fenton named Samantha Manson. Are any of these names familiar to you?”

“Not exactly,” said Constantine. “But… Ebay?” He’d never thought his soul was anything special, but at least he’d thought it was worth enough to not be resold on Ebay. “And how did this Chambers bloke get them?”

“Apparently, the demons he’d summoned no longer wanted them, and he was under the impression that he could ‘put you under his thrall’ if he collected enough of them.”

So the guy who had his soul wasn’t even the first one to have the idea. Brilliant.

“And that’s it?”

“I could tell you Daniel Fenton’s grades and internet habits,” said Batman. “As well as those of his close friends and associates. Apart from his parents and his recent involvement with you, he is ordinary.”

“The thing with the gorilla is ordinary, then?”

“Most people have at least one outlier event in their lives. It would be of greater concern if he did not.” He paused, staring long and hard at Constantine. “What are your initial thoughts?”

“That I’m about to get screwed up the–”

“Regarding how Daniel Fenton got involved in this.”

“Like I said, it’s probably not Daniel Fenton. I’d guess… If I had to guess, I’d say that after Fenton’s dad got hold of that contract, he went and played around with it. Something like a genuine contract can be used to do a lot. It has the magical signatures of both the original demon and whatever sorry bastard signed it. If you’ve got that, you can ring up the demon.” He raised his hands, miming a scale. “Demon, inexperienced idiot teenager…” He tilted to one side. “You get the picture.”

And, yeah, wasn’t it great that he could cause people to die just by leaving his junk everywhere? He hadn’t learned anything from the dream sand.

“You believe Daniel Fenton summoned a demon that possessed him, which then proceeded to collect your soul contracts?”

“Yeah. Can you pull up a pic of the contract Jack Fenton bought?”

Batman briefly examined the remote, then flicked quickly through several slides, stopping, finally, on a very classic demonic soul contract. Constantine had signed several like that, so he had to squint at it and read through it line by line. It wasn’t like he memorized the handwriting of every demon he’d ever made a contract with. In fact, he’d memorized the handwriting of exactly zero demons. They didn’t precisely write a lot, and you either got illegible chicken scratch or equally illegible ornate gothic script.

He got to the name and swore. “That guy doesn’t have the power to go up against the First of the Fallen.” He rubbed his chin vigorously.

“It’s possible that Chambers sent a different contract to the Fentons,” said Batman, “or Daniel was… infected after receiving the other contracts.” More pictures popped up on the screens. “However, there is a problem with this theory.”

“Yeah?” asked Constantine, already scanning the contracts. The Bat didn’t like Constantine’s ideas. What else was new?

“Daniel’s behavior has had no significant changes in that six month time frame. But if we go back by just over a year, to when he was entering high school, his grades took a steep dive and several disciplinary actions were noted on his record. His close friends’ grades took similar, but smaller, hits at the same time.”

“You think he could have been possessed earlier.”

“I believe that something happened to him at that time. I am unconvinced it was possession.”

Constantine shook his head. “None of these guys are strong enough to begin with. Maybe if they were working together… Nah. None of them could work together. That’s why I picked them.” He rubbed his eyes. “Then again, I thought no one could get all my soul contracts, so who knows?”

“Are you sure possession is the only solution?”

“God, no. Hell, we could be dealing with a cabal of homo magi, or someone back from the grave who seriously hates me, that’d explain the death magic on the letter, at least, or maybe there’s a god hanging around getting their kicks poking at me. It’s just a giant blank. I’ve never heard of this kid. I’ve never heard of his family. I’ve barely heard of Vlad Masters. I’ve got nothing.”

“Hm,” said Batman. “What are you planning to do?”

“I’m guessing ignoring it forever isn’t something you’d let me do?”

“No.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to go investigate, then.”

“In that case,” said Batman, pulling a fat folder of papers out of his cape somehow, “you will need to know more about Daniel Fenton, his associates, and Amity Park.” He dropped the folder on the table with an audible thump.

“Great,” said Constantine. “Just what I wanted. Homework.”

Constantine and Zatanna zeta’d to the nearest tube near Amity Park. Batman had arranged an ‘untraceable’ rental car for them, paranoid bastard. Demons didn’t usually have the skillset required to trace license plates.

Then again, there might be more than demons involved. Even if necromancers generally had no skillset outside of necromancy.

There could be shamans, though! They were well known for their technological acumen!

Yeah, right. It was possible, but not bloody likely.

“I could teleport, you know,” he told Zatanna. “We could both teleport.”

“Into the home turf of an unknown magic user?”

Constantine rolled his eyes and knocked his head against the car window. “I’m surprised the ol’ Bat isn’t coming with us.”

“You know he is,” said Zatanna. “I’d give even odds that he’s already there, if I had any desire to gamble with you.”

“Hey! I could be good for it. I have steady work now!”

Zatanna shook her head. Constantine huffed.

“I’m going to take a nap. Might be my last one, after all.”

“John,” said Zatanna, “you’re not going to die. Don’t you think this is a little… excessive, considering all the stuff you’ve gotten out of before?”

“No one’s owned my whole soul before. Now, I really am going to go to sleep. Wake me up when we get there.”

Death.

That’s what pulled Constantine out of his dreams and into a nightmare, and from there into wakefulness. The feeling did not dissipate. Instead, it grew stronger.

He looked over at Zatanna, who was still driving. Her knuckles were white, her shoulders stiff.

“What the hell,” croaked Constantine.

“It’s been building as we get closer to Amity Park,” said Zatanna. “It doesn’t feel… actively malicious… More like a massive haunting. It’s been building slowly.”

Constantine swallowed and tried to rub sand out of his eyes. “That’s– Where are we?”

“About ten minutes out of Amity Park.”

“No. I’ve been to Amity Park. It doesn’t feel anything like this. It’s boring.”

“Well,” said Zatanna, strained, “something’s changed. At least we know where the letter picked up all that death magic.”

Constantine breathed in deeply through his nose. “Yeah, there’s enough of it here for me to feel it, God.” It was making his skin prickle. He shook himself all over. “Might as well stay awake now. Do you mind if I set my wards?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Constantine walked into the diner and looked around. It was very American. Retro. Quiet. Not entirely clean, but Constantine had been in way worse. The air smelled strongly of cinnamon, coffee, and hot chocolate. Not the kind of place he generally bartered for his soul, or away his soul, as the case might be.

An aggressive ‘No Smoking’ sign was positioned prominently next to the cheery ‘seat yourself’ sign. Constantine scowled at it. Sometimes it felt like there was nowhere to smoke anymore in the whole world.

Daniel Fenton, easily recognizable from a legion of school photos and a junior astronaut camp photo ID, was sitting alone at a booth, a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream in front of him. He swung his legs back and forth and scribbled in a notebook. A few tables away, not nearly as sneaky as they clear-ly thought they were being, were his friends Manson and Foley.

Zatanna had entered the diner before him, of course, and Batman was most likely… somewhere. God only knew where. Constantine knew people who could turn invisible and shapeshift that weren’t as good at it as Batman.

Before coming in, Constantine had finished setting his wards. His pockets were full of all sorts of tests, charms, and apotropaics. As he stuck his hands into them, a spray bottle fit easily into his hand.

Walking to the table felt like walking to his execution. He made the comparison with confidence, because he had the relevant experience. When he stopped next to the table, Fenton looked up. His expression was confused at first, but in less than a second he lit up, clearly delighted.

Constantine also had relevant experience in spritzing demons with holy water.

Fenton flinched, but he didn’t start howling or melting. More’s the pity.

“Did you just spray me with holy water?” asked Fenton, blinking up at him with a realistic expression of befuddlement.

“Guy’s gotta know what he’s dealing with,” said Constantine.

“Well, I’m not a demon.” A slight furrow worked its way between his eyes. “Or a devil.”

“What are you, then?” asked Constantine.

Fenton shrugged. “I don’t know. An amateur demonologist? I don’t have any training in this kind of stuff, which is probably why all this happened.” He reached to the side and grabbed his hot chocolate. “Oh. You got my whipped cream with your water…”

“You don’t have any training?”

“Not in this,” stressed Fenton. “I go to school and stuff.”

And astronaut camp, assuming this really was Daniel Fenton and not something possessing or impersonating him.

“Anyway, are you going to sit down, or…?” Fenton looked him up and down.

Constantine scowled and slid into the booth. Then he threw some salt (purified) at Fenton.

“Hey,” complained Fenton, “you’re going to ruin my hot chocolate, jeez.” He picked up the mug, pulling it towards himself.

Constantine took the opportunity to grab his notebook off the table and flip through it.

“Maths?” blurted Constantine.

Fenton set the mug back on the table and leaned over to snatch the notebook back. “Like I said, I do have school. That’s why I can only hang out here on Saturdays. You did miss the last few meeting times.” He huffed. “I know this isn’t ideal, but can we work together here? I don’t actually want to own your soul.”

“Oh, yeah, amazing way of showing it, mate. I know who and what I sold my soul to, and I don’t believe you bartered with them without any training.” Or that he was human, but as long as he was invested in the facade, he probably wouldn’t eat Constantine’s face off.

“I didn’t say I didn’t have any training. Just no training in this. I don’t know exactly what you can do beyond make bad demon-related decisions, but you had weeks to do research. You’ve got to know about the ghosts.”

“Might. What about them?”

“My parents research them. Fight them, sometimes. It’s a whole thing. Demons weren’t any harder to deal with.”

“I sold my soul to archdemons.”

“Yeah, they kind of sucked, to be honest.” Fenton bit his lower lip. “Look, I know you don’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me, but what I did to get your contracts wasn’t anything anyone couldn’t do. Most of them didn’t even want them anymore. The first batch I bought off of a random dude on Ebay. One of them paid me to take the contract, because they hated the doll you wrote it on so much. A lot of the others just wanted me to give you problems, which I think I’ve succeeded at, actually.”

Constantine had forgotten about the doll, actually. “And the archdemons? I know for a fact they’ve been looking forward to torturing me forever, so I doubt they’d just hand the contracts over in exchange for ‘giving me problems.’”

“Oh, yeah. For those guys, I just robbed them. There were also a few people I just beat up.”

“Demons aren’t people, they’re demons.”

“Sure they’re people. They’re just evil people. But they used to be angels or something, right?”

“... No,” said Constantine.

“Okay, well.” Fenton shrugged again. “They still are thinking beings, right? So, they’re people.”

Constantine honestly didn’t know where to go from that.

"Fine," he said instead. "You aren't going to tell me how you got the contracts or what you are. Is it too much to hope you'll deign to tell me why you did this?"

"I'm a teenager, why do we do anything?" Fenton sipped at his hot chocolate. "Mostly, I thought it'd be funny."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought it would be funny. I mean, Dad bought the first one, because he thought it'd help with his ghost research, but it didn't, so he let me have it. I asked Johnny about it, and he told me about your contracts, so I–"

"Who's Johnny?" interrupted Constantine. "Some demon friend of yours?"

He did have a strategy, here, sort of. Most ultra powerful magical beings had a limit to how much annoyance or disrespect they'd tolerate, even when disguising themselves. Constantine had a knack for finding those limits.

Also, just possibly, the hapless teenager act was throwing him off. It was remarkably believable.

"No, he's dead, to begin with, not–"

"Oh, so, you took advice on dealing with demons from someone who turned up dead right after telling you about me. That sounds brilliant."

"He's a ghost. He's been dead since at least the nineties, and I doubt you had anything to do with it. Johnny died in the eighties. I think.”

“A ghost told you about me?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what wizards or magicians like you can do or sense, but if you looked up anything about Amity Park at all, you should have seen there are a lot of ghosts here. It’s not just tourist trap stuff. That’s… actually one of the other things I wanted to talk to you about, if I managed to get enough of your contracts to get you to come.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, not all ghosts are nice. I meant it when I said your demons sucked. That’s compared to the ghosts. And sometimes to the people who come to hunt the ghosts.” Fenton drummed his fingers on the table, nervous. “It’s a toss up which group causes more damage. The Guys in White are especially awful. It would be nice if the Justice League took a look into them?” His voice took on a hopeful lilt.

“You bought my soul to tip off the League about… Guys in White.”

“They’re with the government. Presumably. No one knows what they’re really called. And they chase people around screaming about lots and lots of painful experiments. Direct quotes.”

“You know the League has a tip line.”

“Tried it.” Fenton took a huge gulp of hot chocolate.

“I don’t believe you,”

“If you hang out here for very long, you and your friends will be able to see the ghosts for yourself.”

Constantine could already feel the ghosts. Or at least the pervasive, overwhelming sense of death permeating this city. He didn’t doubt that something requiring Justice League Dark attention was going on here. Beyond just whatever was going on with Fenton himself.

But his attention was taken by two other points.

One, what he didn’t believe was that Fenton did all this for only some combination of kicks and giggles and wanting Justice League attention. Contacts with ghosts or not, burglarizing archdemons wasn’t something anyone sane blew off as nothing.

Two, Fenton had said friends. He’d understand if he’d made Zatanna, but the plural implied that he’d spotted Batman, too.

He didn’t let himself react. “No one rips off archdemons to call in a tip. Or just for fun.”

Fenton looked guilty, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “I didn’t want to bring it up, it didn’t seem appropriate anymore. And the other thing isn’t… relevant.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what’s relevant?” asked Constantine, despite how all his senses were screaming wrong wrong wrong at him. “This is my soul we’re talking about, after all.”

“I know, I know,” said Fenton. “But you didn’t exactly…” He trailed off. “The other thing was that some of my friends thought you need an intervention. We also wanted to see your face when we… intervened. Yeah, we thought it’d look kind of like that.” Fenton pointed at him.

Constantine slapped away the hand. He was almost convinced Fenton was… Well. Not normal, but maybe not homicidal, or particularly interested in enslaving Constantine or torturing him for all time. A step up from some of the other things he’d sold his soul to in the past. Possibly.

(The whole ‘teenager’ thing was definitely an entry in the negative column, though. As well as the whole humiliation and mockery angle.)

“What else?” he demanded.

Fenton’s face twisted with embarrassment and jealousy. “You get to go up to the Watchtower, don’t you?” he asked. “You get to go to space.”

“So?”

“So, I want to go to space. I was, um. I was going to… ask you to take me up there. Just to look.”

Infiltrating the Watchtower was a much more obvious motive, but… Constantine remembered the space camp ID.

“I mean, I’m never going to get up there with my grades. Fighting demons for it seemed… feasible.” He shrugged, then started to slump. “I was going to give them back, you know. Your contracts. I didn’t want to keep them. Or your soul.” He pushed himself up. “Anyway. None of that matters, now. We've got a problem to solve.”

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, as I explained in my letter, the contracts sort of… exploded."

"No, back up, what do you mean it doesn't matter?"

"Well, if this doesn't make you stop selling your soul, I don’t know what will, the Justice League knows about Amity now, I'm not going to make you take me to the Watchtower when I can't trade your soul back to you, and the funny boat sailed at about the same time my friend told me this might be permanent."

"Is this friend also dead?" drawled Constantine.

"No, he's more in the never alive category."

Which possibly explained some of the spirit magic Zatanna detected on the letter.

"He thinks it's because some of your contracts said after death instead of when you're dead, so, because there weren't any competing claims, they all came due at once. Since there were so many of them…"

"Repetition makes magic stronger, yeah, yeah," said Constantine. "I read the letter."

"I was hoping you'd have some solutions. No offense, but I don't want to own you. You're, like, an entire person."

Constantine wouldn't have been offended if Fenton hadn't prefixed his statement with no offense.

“You should have thought about that before buying up my soul.”

“I was going to give it back. No strings.”

“Except for a trip to the Watchtower.”

“If you really didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have made you,” said Fenton.

Somehow, Constantine believed him. Which was crazy. He’d have to check in with Zatanna to make sure he wasn’t being enchanted somehow. Charm person should not be a real thing magicians could do, and yet…

“Look, do you want me to swear it on the Styx or is there something else I can do to convince you I’m telling the truth?” asked Fenton. “The ghosts seem to like the Styx, anyway.” He sighed. “Tell me you have something that can fix this. I don’t know what kind of side effects there are for owning a person’s soul. It’s not like this happens all the time.”

Hell if Constantine knew. The only way he knew to get out of contracts like this was loopholes exploited before they were collected on. “I’m… going to have to do some research.”

“Well,” said Fenton, “let me give you my phone number.” He slid a piece of paper across the table. “You can call me if you figure anything out. In the meantime, if you’re staying in town long, you should look into the ghost thing. Talk to my parents, even. Maybe don’t mention all this, though.”

“Why not?”

“I love my parents, but they must have skipped out on the day they teach scientists that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. Anyway, I’ve got to go.” He started to shove things into a purple backpack he’d pulled into his lap from under the table.

“What? Why?” As far as Constantine was concerned, they’d only just started to scratch the surface of the problem.

“Me and my friends have tickets to a movie.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder at Manson and Foley, who, apparently, were not trying to blend in or be subtle. “You did miss the first few meeting times.”

“Your impression?” asked Zatanna, later, sliding into the booth after Fenton and his friends were thoroughly gone.

“He’s… surprisingly believable. Claims he ‘doesn’t have any training’ in magic, though, which sounds like crap, unless his parents are much more legit than what they look like on paper.”

Zatanna crossed her arms and drummed her fingers on her elbow. “He wasn’t lying. Not that any of my spells could detect.”

Constantine huffed. “That doesn’t seem possible.”

“He doesn’t seem like he could take on archdemons, but with help from ghosts or spirits? We don’t know who’s backing him.”

“God,” said Constantine, “that’s not something I was thinking of.”

“Because you were fixated on the demon theory.”

“But if he’s being backed by someone powerful, why wouldn’t they buy up my contracts themself? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not saying that his… patron, for lack of a better word, put him up to it. Just that he might be getting extra support.”

A waitress came up to them, smiling cheerily. “Hello, there, sorry for the delay. Have you decided what you’re getting?”

“The hot chocolate looked good,” said Zatanna.

“Knock yourself out,” said Constantine, standing. “I’m going to see what Fenton’s parents are like.”

“John Constantine?” repeated Jack Fenton, inquisitively. “Ha! That’s the same name that was on that fake demon contract thing I got on Ebay! What a wild coincidence, huh?”

“You could have mentioned the portal to the astral plane in your basement,” hissed Constantine into the phone. A tiny voice in the back of his head warned him that he shouldn’t take that tone with someone who owned him, but he ignored it handily.

“Would you have believed me if I told you?” asked Fenton, genuinely curious.

Constantine wouldn’t have, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Also, what did you call it? I’ve never heard anyone call it that.”

Batman’s deep voice rumbled through the communicator. “What did you learn?”

“I learned this place is a nightmare and a half. There’s a portal to the astral plane in that kid’s basement, did you know?”

“I ran into a ghost while Constantine was talking to the Fentons,” said Zatanna, leaning sideways while keeping her eyes on the road. “It was much more powerful than any other ghost I’ve ever seen.”

“That is not good news considering what I have learned about the so-called Guys in White.”

“Have you found anything?” asked Fenton. Wherever he was, his reception was crap. His voice crackled with enough static that he might as well be calling from the early nineteen-twenties.

“No,” said Constantine. It had gotten him excused from the Justice Club meetings, which meant that the failure was almost worth the headache the idea of his soul being owned by a teenager caused him.

“I didn’t find anything either.”

“Then why did you call?”

“Uh,” said Fenton. “I’m really grateful you guys got the GIW out of Amity, you know that, right? And that you guys put someone on watch here for bigger threats?”

“Yeah,” said Constantine, slowly. “Sure.” It had been mostly Batman managing that side of things, as Constantine was banned from decisions regarding Amity Park, but if Fenton was going to give Constantine credit, who was he to deny it?

“So, um. That was really great of you.”

Constantine was not liking where this was going. But, apparently, this was his life, now. Getting tips and awkwardly phrased requests from… God. The creepy necromancer brat was sort of his warlock patron.

… Curse his knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons. It was definitely a detriment to his profession as a real mage, and everything he learned about it was against his will and usually the Flash’s fault.

“What is it, Fenton?”

“Have you ever heard of the Showenhowers?”

#dc/dp #dcxdp #fic #my fic

303 notes · View notes

finduilasclln · 1 month

Text

and what if you might tell me you’ll have to go (and you really really mean it)

(OMG HI. I wrote a missing scene from 7.01! I'm so excited because I haven't written in ages. So yay. Here goes.)

Here on AO3

Buck closes the door behind him with a soft click, leaving Christopher sitting on his bed with his books. He’s not surprised or offended to find Eddie standing there, leaning against the wall.

Eddie doesn’t meet Buck’s eyes, his gaze cast downward, looking defeated. Like he might shatter any second now. Buck can’t really say he can blame him, feeling much of the same.

Buck opens his mouth but no words come out. He feels like he already failed one Diaz tonight, he’s not sure he’s ready to fail another one. Although it might be too late for that as well. When Eddie finally pushes himself away from the wall, he tilts his head slightly in the direction of the living room, out of Christopher’s earshot. He doesn’t look behind him to see if Buck will follow. He must know Buck always does.

“Eddie, I’m sorry,” the words fall out of Buck’s mouth as they step into the living room and they’re enough to snap Eddie’s eyes up to meet his.

“What are you - ?” Eddie shakes his head, his face in a frown. “No. Buck.”

“I’m not sure I handled that the way I was supposed to,” Buck says with a slight shrug. Like hearing Christopher talk like that didn’t leave him completely heartbroken. He thinks maybe he should feel like he stepped into something that wasn’t his to step into, but somehow he can never really feel like that with the Diaz family. His family, his brain supplies not so helpfully. He was asked to step in, after all.

“You did everything right,” Eddie says easily, then rubs his hand over his eyes and sighs. “I - ” He shakes his head, eyes glistening in the soft light of the living room lamp. “This is his idea of women, Buck,” Eddie says eventually, pain marking his face, “You love them and they leave.”

“Eddie…” Buck whispers, not entirely sure what he wants to say. What is there to say anyway? It’s not like either of them can make Shannon come back. Can make it so she didn’t leave in the first place.

“No, really, what example am I showing this kid?” Eddie says anguished, already in a full blown circle of self-blame. “Definitely don’t get attached, they’ll leave you anyway. So don’t even bother trying. Better you hurt them than let them hurt you. This is what he’s getting from me?”

“That’s not true,” Buck tries, seeing the spiral Eddie is falling in and desperately trying to pull him out.

“No?” Eddie asks, challenging, “His Mom. Ana. They leave me, Buck. And he thinks it’s him they’re leaving.” And isn’t that just breaking Buck’s heart even more into a million little pieces?

“There’s Marisol,” Buck says, the words falling out of his mouth without permission. They taste a little sour on his tongue, like he knows they’re not quite right. Or maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking sneaking in?

“Right,” Eddie all but scoffs.

“What?” Buck asks, somehow incapable of keeping his mouth shut even though it pinches together something in his chest, “Things are going great with her, no?”

“Right…” Eddie says again, quiet and unconvincing. Like that’s not entirely what he wants to say either. “We’re not - I mean.” He takes a breath before he continues, “Christopher’s met her, but, they’re not - ”

It shouldn’t be such a relief to Buck, and yet…

“You’ll get there,” Buck says, forcing himself because it’s what Eddie needs right now. “And you’re here, Eds. He has you. You stayed. You’re showing him that.”

“And you,” Eddie whispers, his gaze locking with Buck’s. There’s something heavy in the air around them, something thick and all consuming in the way Eddie’s looking at Buck.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes out, not trusting his voice to say anything more.

“You’re here to stay, aren’t you?” Eddie asks, his voice so vulnerable and fragile that Buck has to stop himself from taking a few steps forward and wrapping his arms around Eddie, holding on tightly. ‘They leave me, Buck.’ Buck knows this isn’t just about Christopher anymore.

“Of course,” Buck assures him instead of moving towards Eddie, because at least this is something can be brutally honest about. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

“What if I - ?” Eddie starts, halting abruptly. He looks down at the floor, the hint of a blush on his cheeks hidden away from Buck in the shadow of the tilt of his head.

“What?” Buck asks, both terrified and desperate to let Eddie finish that sentence.

“Why didn’t you tell me you broke up with Natalia?” Eddie asks instead. It feels like a U-turn and yet it’s not.

“I didn’t think, I - ” Buck sighs, shaking his head. Why didn’t he? He knew he didn’t want to make it into a bigger deal than it was. He knew he’d tell Eddie eventually, in passing. Maybe he knew he didn’t want Eddie to ask too many questions, because Buck didn’t want to give too many answers. Not when Eddie was trying to make it work with Marisol. Not when Eddie… Eddie. The root of it all.

“Why did you break up with her?” Eddie asks, despite Buck having given an explanation to him already, in the locker room.

Buck shakes his head again, and he knows that even though it seems like they’re not having the same conversation they understand each other anyway. Like they always do. “You weren’t ready.” Buck says instead, an answer to his first question.

If Eddie asks him to explain, Buck isn’t sure how he’s going to be able to without telling him everything, without giving it all away, giving it all to Eddie. But Eddie seems to understand well enough. Even if the lines aren’t entirely clear, the picture is forming in Eddie’s head, and has been for a long time now, Buck knows that.

“Am I ready now?” Eddie asks, sounding hopeful somehow, even though Buck knows Eddie needs to get there on his own. It’s his own journey to make.

“No,” Buck says, a hint of sadness spreading through him. He manages a small - what he hopes to be - encouraging smile. The name Marisol flows through his brain for a second. No. Eddie is not ready yet.

“But soon?” Eddie says, and it feels more like a confirmation than a question.

“Yeah,” Buck says, his smile a little bit easier.

Of course, he thinks. Like it’s an inevitability. And for as long as you’ll have me.

#Buddie #911 #911 7.01 #Buddie fic #Fin's fic #Fin's 911 fic #Fin's Buddie fic #911 on abc #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz

52 notes · View notes

secretjeon · 1 year

Note

Sebastian please! Maybe him feeling terrible casting crucio on you? Also do you do smut? And would you consider writing for ominis?

I'M SORRY; SEBASTIAN SALLOW

pairing: sebastian sallow x reader

warnings: some angst, fluff, spoilers for hogwarts legacy, not proofread

word count: 672

summary: in which Sebastian feels horrible after hurting you, even though it was necessary.

a/n: hiii and yes i do write smut but I wasn't sure if you wanted it for this request so I kept this one as fluff/a little bit of angst! but if you want a smut just let me knowww and thank you for requesting!! and I think I might start writing for ominis as well I haven't completely decided yet!

You knew there wasn't gonna be an easy way for what was about to happen.

You were currently trying to get into the scriptorium, with Sebastian and Ominis by your side. You'd already had to do a few puzzles, before the three of you got stuck behind a door, the only way forward to cast the Cruciatus Curse.

Now of course, no one wanted to cast it. But, it was the only way forward, and the only way you would find answers. The choice was now between you and Sebastian, as Ominis refused to cast it, the poor boy still unforgiving of himself for what happened as a child.

Now of course, no one wanted to cast the curse. But, it was the only way forward, and the only way to find answers. The choice was now between you or Sebastian, Ominis refusing to cast the curse, the poor boy still unforgiving of himself for what happened in his childhood.

You didn’t want anyone else getting hurt, so you knew the right choice was to let Sebastian cast it on you.

“I want to learn the curse, but I won’t cast it on you. You need to cast it on me.” You saw the upset look in his eyes, knowing he didn’t want to cast it on you.

“I shan’t forget this,” He told you before teaching you the curse.

“Ready?” He asked.

“I’m ready.” With those words, he cast the curse, excruciating pain covering your entire body, Sebastian looking over at you with worrying eyes, watching you writhing in pain.

The door finally opened, with you barely starting to recover from the curse.

“Are you alright?” You heard Ominis shout as you got up.

“That pain, it was excruciating. But, I'll survive. Let’s keep moving.” You didn’t notice the way Sebastian was looking at you with a guilty face, feeling absolutely horrible for what he did.

After showing Sebastian the spellbook, and the three of you getting ready to leave the scriptorium, the brunette boy pulled you to the side while Ominis wandered around just a little bit more before you guys left.

“Y/N, are you alright? Truly, you should’ve cast the curse on me, I shouldn’t have put you through that.” You knew he was feeling incredibly guilty for casting it, and you also knew that you could do nothing more than reassure him that it was okay.

“Sebastian, it’s okay. You had to do it, it was the only way we’d be able to find what we found. It was worth the cause, and I wasn’t gonna let you get hurt. I’m alright, I promise.” You put your hand on his arm.

“I know, it’s just-” He paused for a moment. “I’m so sorry. I never ever want to hurt you. You mean too much to me.”

You smiled gently, the boy’s words making your heart flutter. “You mean a lot to me too, Sebastian. But I promise, you only did what you had to do.”

He looked at you for a few moments, staring into your eyes as if he was contemplating something, before leaning forward and capturing your lips with his own. You stiffened with shock at first, not expecting Sebastian to kiss you, before relaxing and kissing him back.

It was an amazing kiss, your lips fit together perfectly like a puzzle, and everything fell into place. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips moved together. When you finally broke apart, the two of you were breathless.

You both chuckled, not expecting your first kiss to be in a secret scriptorium after Sebastian casted Crucio on you. Of course, you’d had a crush on Sebastian for months now, practically since you first met him, but you had no idea he felt the same way.

Needless to say, this was a nice moment of relief and happiness, after the horrors you had gone through.

“Are you guys done frolicking back there? Shall we go now?” Both of your faces heated up at Ominis’ words, the two of you getting so caught up in the moment that you almost forgot that the blonde boy was with you.

You knew Ominis was just teasing you guys, a sly smile on his face. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

Sebastian gave you a smile as the three of you got ready to leave the scriptorium, and hopefully with more answers.

180 notes · View notes

simlit · 5 months

Text

Chosen of the Sun | | forest // eighty-one

| @sani-sims

next / previous / beginning

KYRIE: Mm. She takes her job personally. Not that she really ever cared for us. Being entrusted with our guardianship went to her head years ago. I always remember her arguing with the council about what we ought or ought not to be doing. She never liked sharing the responsibility. Guess it made her feel important lording over God’s chosen. EVE: She acts as if you’re still a child. KYRIE: I don’t think she could ever see me otherwise. EVE: Do you ever miss your real mother? Don’t you… wonder about her? KYRIE: Hard to miss something you’ve never known. I could say I wish I’d had the chance to know her, but then… I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t been complacent in surrendering us to the church in the first place. EVE: I never knew my mother, either. Yet, I often dreamed of how my life would have been different had she lived. When I would see other children with their mothers, the happiness they showed… it made me yearn for something I, too, had never felt, but still wanted, deeply. KYRIE: In a way I envy you. I haven’t the imagination to fathom things like that; Whatever it must have been like to grow up as someone else. EVE: But you had your sister. KYRIE: Yes… I had her. EVE: Kyrie, you shouldn’t give up hope that she might still be alive. Tell me, honestly. Is that the real reason behind your decision? KYRIE: I don’t know… Maybe. I just don’t see the point anymore. I had hope. But I can’t feel her. It’s just… silent. Is it better to think she’s out there somewhere, in pain and alone? I don’t know. Everything is so dark. EVE: Surely, she wouldn’t want this for you. And she’s not the only one. There are people who care for you now. KYRIE: I could hardly believe that. EVE: It’s true. Don’t you think I worry for you? KYRIE: You’re… different. EVE: I’m not the only one. Kyrie there’s… something you should know. KYRIE: What do you mean? EVE: I… was nervous to tell you. I don’t know if this is something you should hear now, considering your condition, but if I don’t… If your sight returns, perhaps just saying so now would be kinder. KYRIE: Eve? EVE: It’s Tayuin… He’s gone after that witch. The one who cast the curse. KYRIE: He’s… what? EVE: He, Eira and Lord’Tevus left sometime in the night. Only a few of us know they’ve gone. I expect that’s for the better. KYRIE: But… how… Why? EVE: Isn’t it obvious? To save you. KYRIE: That’s— I’ll… I’ll go, then. I’ll go after them, I— EVE: You’re in no condition to do anything. And certainly not the type to go traversing dangerous terrain. KYRIE: I can’t let them. This is all— EVE: It’s done, Kyrie. You’ve nothing to do now but accept that. KYRIE: How can I? If something happens to them— EVE: Calm down. You’ll exert yourself too much. KYRIE: But… EVE: You know they’re capable fighters. And clever. Well… KYRIE: laughs Some more than others. EVE: If for no other reason, I will acknowledge Lord Tev’us is a powerful force. Though, I would be lying if I said it didn’t concern me greatly to hear he’d gone along. On the one hand, his abilities are nearly unmatched. On the other, it’s hard to know where his loyalties lay. If he has any at all. I admit, part of me thinks he’s only gone for selfish reasons. He’s shown us well enough he cares for no one but himself. KYRIE: I know your experiences with him have been unfavorable. However, I… don’t know if what you say is the heart of it. EVE: What do you mean? KYRIE: Lord Tev’us is… complicated. Perhaps, not easy to like. EVE: Not easy to like? He’s callous and self-serving. Do you forgive all that he has done? KYRIE: I didn’t say that. But I needn’t forgive him to understand that he and I have wildly different perspectives. That doesn’t mean I agree with his, nor that I think he’s absolved of judgement. But do I think that he is beyond redemption? Do I think him incapable of caring for anyone outside himself? KYRIE: My answer to that is…

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #ts4 bachelor challenge #chosen of the sun #oc: kyrie loren #cc: eve ravenclaw-silvermoon #had to cut the transcript because of tumblr's arbitrary word limit so I omitted the beginning just fyi for text readers

41 notes · View notes

dilxcc · 1 year

Text

:: mrs magic. diluc ragnvindr

contains. fem!reader, small angst, fluff, love confessions, mutual pining, idiots in love, grammatical error . . .

summary. his head is filled with you. he just had to figure out what kind of sorcery that you had casted on him . . .

requested. none

note. this basically sucks 😭

he pants lightly, holding his claymore in both hands as he finished his training. the sun had already said goodbye to the city of mondstadt. yet, he didn’t seem to have noticed.

“she cannot keep on jeopardizing my quests,” those were the words that kept on ringing in his ears. he didn’t want anyone to help him. he doesn’t require one’s help. kaeya, who was there to deliver an apology letter from venti (a drunkard that seems to always drop by angel’s share), clapped his hands in amusement.

he could see clearly even with one eye how affacted his brother is by you. you. his only thoughts. it would have been natural if diluc’s only thoughts were of surpassing you. but kaeya had heard from adelinde that his brother was always thinking of you.

not just thinking of you, but would also have dreams about you. and not just any dreams, ones like where he would be with you in the same room, just reading a book or simply relishing in each other’s company.

diluc wondered what kind of spell that you had put him under. it’s got to be some sort of sorcery to make him feel this infatuated by you. he ought to ask adelinde about this soon.

with a tired sigh, he put down his claymore and gave kaeya an annoyed look. “what business do you have here?” he asked flatly. “what? i can’t come here and visit my brother now?”

with an unamused expression, diluc quickly drag his claymore and went inside the winery. “hey, that drunkard have something for you,” kaeya said, his eye casting a longing feeling. “i... will take my leave now,”

he simply hummed, only turning back when he was sure his brother had left. he took the letter and went back inside.

“why has she always been on my mind?” diluc groaned into his hands. “i do not need distractions,” he mumbled. “what seemed to be the problem here, master diluc?” adelinde asked, her head tilted to the side slightly. she had never seen the master diluc to be so distressed these days.

“it is nothing for you to concern yourself for,” he said, quickly dismissing her. “is this about that lady who often carried you here injured?” adelinde asked. “n-no. what makes you think of that?” he stuttered.

adelinde smiled at that. “you see, she came by this evening. told me that she wanted to see you for the last time,” at that, his ears perked up. “last time? what does that mean? is she leaving?”

“i suppose. she left you a letter,”

he basically snatched the paper from adelinde and read it immediately.

dear mr. grumpy,

i have come bearing this letter to tell you that, i will soon leave mondstadt for liyue. perhaps i shouldn’t have needed to write this letter. but i felt that i would... indeed miss you after a long time. so this letter is to lessen that longing feeling.

it is quite odd for me to write this letter to you. especially when you probably hates me. and for some unknown reason, i fell for you mister. how did you even do that simply by standing around and pushing away my help? i will be missing you dearly in all honesty.

i hope that you will be happy staying here in mondstadt. i will be continuing my traveling elsewhere after i finished venturing liyue.

your truly,

y/n.

he quickly scrambled to his feet and dashed out of the winery. he had to find you. he just had to catch you before you leave.

you looked at your house with sadness. you so much wished to stay. but you also wanted to do this. you finally had enough mora to go travel all around teyvat. maybe do some commissions along the way for mora.

“y/n...!”

you quickly whipped your head around, trying to find that source of voice. it felt like his heart had stopped for a bit. you looked... alluring. he doesn’t know if that is the right word. everything about you is just magical. had you always been this beautiful?

his thoughts scattered in his brain as he walk towards you. his heart beating hundreds of miles per hour. “you... you’re leaving,” he stated. as if it wasn’t obvious enough. a bitter smile appeared on your face. “yeah... my journey in mondstadt has come to an end,”

“but you don’t have to leave...?” his voice came out more pathetic than he had hoped for. why has he become so... fragile in front of you? “i’m afraid it is important for me,” you said. you hoped that he would leave you now. if he stays any longer, you might actually stay and confess your love for him.

diluc stood in front of you, slightly out of breath from rushing all the way from the winery back into the city of mondstadt. “i need to know... what sort of sorcery have you put me under... to make me so... attracted to you, to make you so alluring that it’s hard for me to not think of you,” he admitted.

you couldn’t believe his words for a second. but the way he was looking at you, staring at you with heart eyes. “i wondered the same,” you chuckled, your eyes filling with tears. slowly, he pushed your hair away and tuck it behind your ear. his hand rested there for a bit, and he leaned closer, his forehead meeting yours.

“would you... keep in contact with me?”

#diluc imagines #diluc x reader #fluff #genshin impact x reader #diluc x you #diluc fluff #diluc x y/n #diluc genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnivindr x you #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #diluc ragnvindr x reader #🐾 diluc

149 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

patient-icu-fetish

Patient In ICU

patient-icu-fetish

Patient In ICU

myloshinobu

Shipping Heros Boys

patient-icu-fetish

Patient In ICU

sweetsunshine-us

sweet sun shine