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ariaste · 10 months

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The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2

(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)

***

Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off.

Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse?

Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended

In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB--

Proem

A dark theater. The rustling of the audience: clothes, breathing, whispers of anticipation. The lights come up. A man enters, stage left. He is a magician—a master magician—and he performs for you a magic trick so good and so subtle... that you don’t even notice you’ve seen it.

You know there must have been a trick—after all, you came to the theater to see a trick performed, didn’t you? And he claims to be a magician. So there had to be a trick somewhere. There had to be.

But maybe there wasn’t. Maybe there was just a man on a stage, talking to you, telling you a story with a strangely unsatisfying ending you didn’t quite understand.

I know. This is a weird beginning to an analysis essay. But hear me out, because I have to explain the mechanisms of the stage before I can show you what the trick was, where the trapdoor was hidden, and how Neil Gaiman pulled the whole thing off so gently and elegantly that you didn’t notice a thing. Ready? Here we go.

The Facts As We Know Them

Let us begin by establishing a baseline—some fundamental, logical assumptions that underpin the magic trick. These will seem obvious as soon as I say them, which is precisely the point: They are self-evident, loadbearing foundations for my entire argument, and if I don’t point them out, I’m going to sound like a crackpot conspiracy theorist. (Which! To be fair, I might be. I could easily be wrong about all this—but I don’t think I am.)

Our baseline, loadbearing assumptions that preface my Grand Unified Theory of Season 2:

1. Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job.

2. Neil Gaiman loves these characters and wants with all his heart to do them justice; likewise, he has a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for Terry Pratchett and is striving VERY HARD to write the show the way Terry would have been happy with.

3. The devil, as they say, is in the details: Neil Gaiman and the entire Good Omens cast/crew are fully capable of doing extremely subtle detail work, as conclusively proven in Season 1 Ep 6, specifically the whole sequence of the body-swap scenes.

With me so far? Great.

The Elephant In The Room

Season 2 was... odd. It was odd, wasn’t it. This isn’t a matter of whether you loved it or hated it—there was just something odd going on.

I spent the entirety of my first viewing very much enjoying myself and being very happy to be back with these characters and this world, but I was also liveblogging to my groupchat as I went, and a theme soon began emerging:

“Neil, what are you doing? Where are you going with this?” “What in god’s name is going on here? I’m so lost lmao.” “What is going on with the music situation?” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE NEIL” “zombies, ok, I trust u to pull this all together in the end, Neil, but I still don't know what you're up to” “What is going on LOL” “Incredibly what is going on here” “NEIL! WHAT IS HAPPENING!” “Literally what is happening” “Neil Gaiman why have you constructed a regency au for mystery VIBES reasons” “just????????? lesbians????????? dancing what's HAPPENING. just all the background characters are gay here ok sure sure sure NEIL GAIMAN WHAT IS HAPPENING--” “mmmmmmm neil what u doin”

All these are copied verbatim from my liveblogging, and apparently I am not the only one to have this reaction. And to be clear, I was having a good time! I came out to this theater to see a magic trick, and this Neil Gaiman guy on stage is a master magician—but I didn’t see the trick, even though there must have been a trick.

At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the season. I wanted to like it! Indeed, there were many things that I liked about it! But I felt a bit muddled and jumbled up and confused—I felt like there was something I didn’t understand about it, and so I couldn’t yet understand how I felt about it either.

I started chewing on this question in a friend’s DMs: Why is season 2 so fucking odd? What is going on here, Neil? What are you up to? The matter of whether he was up to something was never in question. I knew that he had to be up to something. Writers are always up to something, and as I watched season 2, it was as if I was watching Neil scamper around the room with a mischievous expression as he messed with things here and there and made little tweaks and adjustments to the arrangement of all the Chekov’s guns he’s stockpiling on the mantelpiece.

You see, Season 2 has some very bad writing in it. HANG ON, DON’T ARGUE WITH ME YET! THIS IS NOT A JUDGMENT CALL!! This is the rug that the trick’s secret mechanism is hidden under!!! This is the hidden mirror that makes the trick work!!!!! This is the trapdoor in the stage!

Yes, of course I will explain myself.

Neil Gaiman is a master magician, but I am a pretty damn good magician myself—I’m a professional fantasy author who has published nine books, and I teach workshops for apprentice writers online and at universities—and if there is one thing I have learned about the process of achieving mastery of your craft, it is this:

Regardless of what medium they’re working in, the apprentice artist is concerned primarily with achieving realism via an expansion of their control—control of their brush strokes as they paint a photorealistic eye; control of their deck of cards, the mechanisms of their magic tricks, and where the audience’s attention is being directed; control of all the little factors of voice, plot, character, setting, suspense and surprise that go into writing a good story. However, the master artist has achieved that control—so much so that it often looks effortless to an untrained eye—and sometimes the master artist returns to a messy, amateurish style simply because they have control even over this too.

As an example, consider Picasso and his entire body of work. He begins as an apprentice focused on achieving control, doing portraits of people that look like people—like what we expect a portrait of a person to look like. Then, as he grows in skill and gradually achieves mastery, he pulls away from realism. He develops a style, he experiments with faces that don’t look like any human alive colored in ways that do not appear in nature. He expands his control. His work becomes abstract. Towards the end of his life, he starts experimenting with what’s called “Naive art”, something that a 5 year old could theoretically draw... but you have to achieve mastery before you can do it on purpose and have it look good.

On one hand, Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job. On the other hand, Season 2 has bad writing in it.

What does that tell us?

Well, we know from our Baseline Assumptions that Neil Gaiman is simply too good of a writer to fuck up through garden-variety clumsiness and lack-of-control the way an apprentice writer would. Additionally, he cannot fuck up by accident in this case because I am positive that the man is scrutinizing his work on Good Omens far too closely to let anything slide—for Crowley and Aziraphale’s sakes, for David and Michael’s sakes, and especially for Terry’s sake. The stakes are sky-high, and he cares too much to write a weird, kind of “bad” season by accident.

Which leaves only one option: He did it on purpose.

(Am I sounding like a crackpot conspiracy theorist? Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m gonna get SO MUCH MORE CRACKPOT.)

If he did it on purpose, then the natural question to ask is: WHY!?!?!??

It’s a great question. Not “Why?” in terms of why he as an individual person with emotions would decide to do that, mind you. More like, “What purpose does this serve for the structure of the narrative?” There is a story he is intending to tell, and out of all the choices he could have possibly made, for some reason this one was necessary and correct in order to achieve that end goal—so what was that reason?

See? Intentionality. He knows exactly what details he left in, and he did it on purpose. (Editing! It’s important!)

So there has to be a reason. It’s like when a master magician “casually” rubs an itch on his nose—why did he do that? What is he sneakily slipping into his mouth by hiding it under the excuse of this little gesture that does not even register to you as meaningful? (If you haven’t watched enough stage magic to know what I mean, watch this.)

This question is, of course, impossible to simply answer out of thin air without any further evidence. It is a dead end—so we must adjust the question and come at it from a different angle.

The one I settled on when I was chewing on this was: Well, okay, what do I mean when I say “bad writing”? What is it about S2 that makes it feel so goddamn odd?

The Pledge, The Turn, and... The Conspicuous, Expectant Silence

There are three parts to a magic trick: Pledge, Turn, Prestige.

First, the Pledge: You show the audience something ordinary. Second, the Turn: You make that ordinary thing do something extraordinary, like vanish. Third, the Prestige: You bring the ordinary thing back.

To quote the 2006 film The Prestige just after its explanation of the first two parts: “You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet, because making something disappear isn’t enough. You have to bring it back.”

You have to bring it back.

When I teach apprentice writers, I call this a “setup-payoff cycle”. Achieving control and dexterity with this tool is crucial, because the setup-payoff cycle is the engine of the story—it’s what makes the story run. You can have a setup-payoff cycle at any scale—I have read ones that were a single sentence long; I’ve read ones that were two books long. Additionally, all jokes, no matter how long they are, are structured on a setup/payoff cycle. These cycles work precisely the same way a magic trick does:

You set up the audience’s expectations. (Optional but generally considered stylish and elegant: You give those expectations a firm jolt to throw the audience off-balance.) You pay off the audience’s expectations in a way they weren’t expecting, while saying “TA DA!!!!” really loud with your arms flung wide.

Audiences really like this. A setup-payoff cycle executed just right makes the audience’s brains light up like Times Square and hammers on their mental “reward” buttons like nothing else. It’s like you’ve personally handed them a cookie and a gold star. They go wild for this.

Here’s an example of a setup-payoff cycle, though it’s not a perfect one—and you’ve probably heard it before, so you’re not going to be throwing chairs and tearing down the theater from sheer glee:

The Setup: Knock knock. Who’s there? Banana. Banana who? The Jolt: (the joke starts over and repeats several times without reaching the payoff (aka the prestige) while the audience grows more and more annoyed and frustrated about the unfulfilled expectations, until finally...) Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? The Payoff: ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN’T SAY BANANA?

Good Omens Season 2 feels so fucking odd because the setup-payoff cycles are incomplete—nearly all of them are, and the ones that do close the loop do so in really weird ways which, as a professional author, make me feel kind of, “Bwuh?????? But where’s my cookie? Excuse me??? Sir???? Neil????? My cookie, tho???”

When I realized this, when I finally put my finger on why the whole season was giving me some uncanny valley heebie-jeebies, a chill ran down my spine. (The rest is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ I’M GOING TO GO STARE INTO THE ABYSS NOW BYE)

#good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman

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itneverendshere · 4 months

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alrighty imagine rafe feeling jealous for the first time in his life and absolutely not knowing how to navigate through it, so he just takes it out on you 🤗 he's down bad so it's funny

just a lil something for y'all:

rafe cameron does not get jealous.

why would he? he has the world at his feet—wealth, status, popularity, and seemingly limitless opportunities. got everything he wants and needs in his perfect kook-life, right? there’s absolutely nothing that could make him envious of others. he’s been moving through life with a sense of entitlement, accustomed to getting what he wants when he wants it.

that earth-shattering confidence translates into his sexual life. if there was such a thing as mastering the subtle art of not giving a fuck, god, he’d get a nobel prize for that shit.

rafe likes to indulge in the pleasures of his fantastic mortal life without the burden of attachment of commitment, just thinking about tying himself up to someone else makes him want to drive his jeep into the nearest wall.

that’s not the life he wants. that kind of bullshit gets people depressed or killed; he’s seen enough of that kind of misery in his lifetime.

he knows he’s got a reputation by now. it precedes him, and he revels in it. and people say he’s a bad guy? please, he’s doing the entire female community a favor. there’s no point in restricting his independence for one person.

no feelings involved, no clinging, and no, he’s not fucking cuddling someone after he just blew his load into their back. The women he involves himself with know what they’re getting themselves into when they open their pretty legs for him.

it’s great.

no stupid headaches, no fights, no “why didn’t you text me back?”, complete radio silence unless they want something from him or vice versa. sure, there have been a few girls who needed a collective reminder of his rules, which he does by always cutting them off.

no one’s ever made him want to throw his philosophy out the window. can you imagine that happening? rafe cameron…feeling…something other than complete horniness for someone else? enough to make him want to commit capital murder when someone else thinks they’re entitled to touch what’s his?

no, of course not.

that’d be insane. completely impossible. rafe cameron would never get his perfect hands dirty with filth. not in this universe or lifetime.

or so he thought.

“you have a real problem, you know that?”

if looks could kill he’d be seven feet under. you’re shooting daggers at him through your pretty eyes, hands settling on your hips. if he wasn’t raging with misplaced anger issues, he’d tell you how fucking beautiful you look tonight.

“me?” rafe grits out as he sticks his fingers into his chest, “you want to talk about problems, sweetheart?” his words drip with venom, a thinly veiled attempt to deflect the intensity of his own emotions.

you don’t back down, though, gaze steady and unwavering as you meet his challenge, “i’m not the one who just punched the living shit out of someone else!”

rafe's lip curl into a mocking smirk. "whose fault is that?” he quips, the barb aimed squarely at your intellect.

a violent urge to strangle him takes hold of you, anger nipping at your skin, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

he doesn’t know why he did it. all he remembers was that in that moment, while watching you entertain someone else, he wanted to snap someone’s neck in half. and he’d be damned if he didn't get what he wanted.

rafe’s head tilts, oh so slowly, to the side, pretty blue eyes burning your skin, “i’m not the one letting some sleazy bastard get their hands under my slutty dress.”

that didn’t come out right.

it made much more sense in his head. he doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the gnawing jealousy that threatens to consume him whole.

“slutty dress?! this is vintage versace you possessive lunatic!”

“so fucking what?” he saunters closer, seemingly calm, except that’s the one thing that he never is, “did they run out of fabric in Italy?”

you watch him, a little mesmerized by the way the moonlight accentuates his features, heart pounding. he stops in front of you.

you must’ve taken a good hit to the head if you believe rafe cameron feels anything for you besides some sort of allure to your cunt. you know better than that. you open your mouth to speak, but rafe’s quick to lift one of his hands, tapping your lip with his finger.

“this is supposed to be like— a casual thing, right?” he exhales a breath, voice barely louder than a murmur.

you tip your chin up, “what are you getting at?’”

“no strings. so, i really shouldn't be this fucking pissed about seeing you post a picture with that asshat face, smiling, his arm around you. that stupid fucking caption.”

straightening your posture, you don’t let his sugar-coated confession get to you, remaining silent for the time being. what’s his deal? is the devil spawn...confessing?

“speaking of photos…i just looked at a really cute one of you before, can you guess which one?”

and watch that picture be the one where you're on all fours in his truck's backseat lmao😃👀

#rafe cameron #blurb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #i snorted #mutual pining #rafe imagine #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fluff #just a thought #i would go insane #absolutely insane #rafe cameron x you #rafe fic

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ceilidho · 6 months

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Hi crazy Johnny with a single mam anon back because im insane and have brainrot and am seriously contemplating writing it bcus i feel compelled by the power of Christ (Johnny’s cock) to write something pervy and nasty and creepy but ultimately sweet but im also just braindumping and sharing bcus not enough johnny content floating around I fear so have to pull up my bootstraps and do it myself (this is so long ceil im so very sorry)

anyways so I think this is sooo much hotter if Johnny is either on a prolonged medical discharge or he’s been forced into retirement for one reason or another (because then can keep an eye on you lol) he and like this has been touched on before but he’s just got. nothing to fucking do. And holy hell he’s going crazy. He needs something to do. So his silly, terribly adjusted brain latches onto the poor single mam next door who DEFINITELY needs his help.

Im a sucker for forced codependency. You, who thinks you’re doing great on your own, versus ‘can’t handle this all on yer own, eh little lass?’ Johnny MacTavish. He’s SO fucking subtle about it. Commenting on how hard it must be to have to raise a baby all your own, and gods love you just look knackered here let me take the bairn for a bit. He comes round and makes little comments about your house being messy (disorganised, but not messy) and immediately starts ‘sympathising’ because you just mustn’t have time to clean up but it’s important to keep hazards out the way of the baby, here he’ll *help*.

Never questions your ability as a mother, god no, just slyly drops suggestions that you’re not coping as well as you thought. And it fucking NAGS at you. And eventually, you start going to Johnny more and more for help. I honestly think he would cause problems in your flat (fixable ones, like fucking up the electrics or messing around with the pipes but stuff he knows he can fix) so you either have to A. Move in with him temporarily or B. Have to ask him to fix them. Eventually just says that your landlords a cunt for letting you live in a shithole and insists you just move in with him permanently. You do (it’s not really up for debate).

He doesn’t use condoms. I’m sorry he just doesn’t, but he will TELL you that he does- especially the first time you have sex. You’re all worried because ‘oh god Johnny I’m not on birth control I just put it off after I had the baby and we didn’t use a condom-‘ and he’s immediately tucking you into his chest and stroking your hair and shushing you ‘divvint be daft lass, course i wrapped it up, stupid thing just broke. Did ye not realise? Must’ve been heat o’ the moment, don’t worry yer little heed about it alright? Johnny’s here.” and kisses you on your hair and lulls you into sleep. Adamantly denies whispering about how pretty you’re gonna look pregnant as if he’s trying to subliminal you into pregnancy. lol.

Will legally adopt your baby. Like he’ll suggest it, straight up. And you’re probably a bit taken aback because it’s only been six months but he is insistent. This is probably the catalyst for his ‘im the biological dad’ delusions. Once he’s down as the father he’s actually losing his mind a little. Can imagine Simon or Gaz popping round to check up on Johnny on their next leave and suddenly he has a family and they’re actually a little concerned because when Gaz makes a comment about the baby’s being cute Johnny’s like ‘Yeah we did a good job, didn’we lass?” and between the two of them there’s just silence because johnny this is not your baby but they can see that slightly deranged look in his eyes. Defo asks about all the heavy details of your pregnancy and labour and the first few months so he can pretend like he was actually there for it and will talk about it as if he were actually there (extra bonus points if Gaz actually pulls you aside in the kitchen and asks about Johnny’s behaviour and tells you to be careful LMAO).

So yeah anyways.

PLEASE WRITE THIS IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!! im screaming at that last bit i need this so bad please......i don't ask for much but i swear to god please write this for me. this idea was designed in a lab to inflict the maximum amount of psychic damage on me. please write this and i will happily beta/edit it for you if you need any help omg

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x you #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2

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meidnightrain · 6 months

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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL - wanderer

❝ and you know that i don’t want you to go. remind me how it used to be, pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks. ❞

summary: presenting…nahida’s foolproof and totally not subtle plan to get you and the wanderer together after endless pining!

warnings: contrary to the title the reader is gn, slight ooc(?)

notes: day 10! just got back from watching the eras movie and three hour long karaoke session so i’m a bit worn down but i decided to go along with this anyway cause i really wanted to work with this idea i had, plus i’m a sucker for my puppet boy. i hope this meets your expectations hehe

taglist (open): @staretes , @rynnlvrs , @sentifua , @i-probably-sleep-too-much , @reilly34 , @qqingque , @akutasoda , @mhiieee , @starryshinyskies , @rintosae , @kazemiya , @pix-stuff

“presenting…nahida’s foolproof plan to get name!” the dendro archon announced, an unamused wanderer rolling his eyes at her while the aranara amongst the clapped with their stubby little arms.

“how do you even know that this will work?” he asked warily, suspicion edged in his sharp tone. it did nothing to the young goddess who shrugged it off, tapping her temple with a cheeky wink.

“you should trust me on this.” is all that she said, leaving the former harbinger to place his fate in her hands. with the help of her and the aranara, maybe he did have a chance to woo you and nudge the both of you out of the friendzone. even the archons knew how impossible it was for him to say that in front of you.

you were a member of the akademiya, practically a nobody in a literary school which had the pride of being the best of the best. you were mediocre in your field, helpful and kind. you were patient too. when nahida had first enrolled him in select courses held, you had offered to show him the ropes due to being in similar classes despite getting off on the wrong foot.

was that what had pulled him in? how normal you were, being what he had longed to be? he could be himself with you, never needing to keep up that standoffish attitude of his, but still not willing to open his newly acquired heart to you just yet in fear of betrayal. three times was enough for him, he mused as he stood outside the door to your home.

it was raining, pouring in fact. usually he would have shelter from his hat but for some reason, nahida had taken it into her safekeeping. he was a puppet too, he didn’t really understand why he had to act so…so…pitiful in a sorry state in front of you just to get you to like him.

“be vulnerable around name, that will show that when you are with them, you can let down your guard and be your truest self with them.” the archon had explained, ignoring the way that the aranara were using his hat as a boat in the water and sailing off into vanarana.

he murmured a curse, looking around to make sure that no one would see him like this. his eyes landed on an ahoge that stuck out from a pile of crates followed by the familiar chatter of aranaras. great, she was watching this whole humiliating exchange. was pursuing this feeling he thought he harboured towards you really worth it?

with a heavy heart, he knocked on your door, making a show of rubbing his arms like he was cold because of the rain though the only feeling his synthetic arms had were false goosebumps due to anticipation.

you opened your door to your shock to find a shivering wanderer with a frown on his face. it wasn’t uncommon to see him not smiling but this time his smile was different…was it an uncomfortable frown?

“are you insane? it’s raining what are you doing here?!” you whisper-shrieked, making a thought to lower your voice in respect for your neighbours. that only made him fall deeper into this black hole he was trying to claw his way out of, curse you and your thoughtfulness.

“it’s been a long day,” he grumbled, not meeting your eyes in embarrassment for resorting to such measures. he was the wanderer, the former sixth harbinger, kabukimono, practically a god. how was it that he was tripping over his own feet when you were in front of him? he hated it so much but at the same time, he wanted more of it. a small part of normalcy he had dreamed of when he was still a young naive puppet, something that he had longed for was now presented to him on a silver platter.

he was afraid though, not that he would admit it. afraid to tell you what he wanted. he wanted to have framed pictures of the both of you together, have kisses on cheeks, have cuddles and someone to confide in. he wanted you.

“i left you alone at the library, i skipped classes cause i was lazy to go,” is what comes out of his mouth, you merely raised your eyebrow.

“you…you’re standing in the heavy rain to tell me that you skipped classes cause you didn’t want to go…and that you were lazy to study so you didn’t show up today?” you repeat with a perplexed expression, making the wanderer and nahida facepalm internally at his mess-up.

“i must have lost my mind…” he mumbled to himself, taking a deep breath that he didn’t need and looking you in the eyes, recalling the words that the archon of wisdom had given him.

“i want you, whether it be for worse or better. i would wait forever and ever for you. if you ever broke your heart, i’ll put it back together. i think i like you, name.” he said with what looked like a pained expression. the silence was loud, so loud that you could almost hear mythical aranaras waddling around in the background of the pouring rain.

it seems her plan didn’t work as expected, and he had ruined whatever relationship he had hoped to have with you. what did he expect, trusting a god and a bunch of sumeru fairies in the affairs of mortals? looking at your starstruck face, he decided to pick himself up and walk away while he still could.

“it was a waste of time coming here, as expected.” he tried to save face, scoffing loudly and turning away from you, still drenched in the rain. that was until he felt a hand grab his arm softly, warmth flooding his hollow puppet shell at your gentle grip.

“wait, would you like to come in? you’re probably freezing and…yes, i think i like you too, wanderer.” you said quickly, giving him a genuine grin which caused him to hold back a smile and an uncharacteristic yell.

in the distance, he could hear the cheers of nahida and the aranara, though your mortal ears wouldn’t be able to pick it up. nahida was right, he begrudgingly admitted on how to get you.

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#🕊️ - 1989 event #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #🪧 - event: 1989 #🗞️ - genshin impact fics

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wonderwyrm · 10 months

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Terry Pratchett knows how to fill a moment with emotion.

Earnest, fervent, sincere emotion. Joy, humor, horror, sadness, all of them at once. Terrible, terrible things happen to the characters in his books, and yet they’re funny to the point that I think they’re mostly branded as comedy.

At the same time, I can easily see most of his books being recreated as horror stories. God, I would love to look more at the ways he creates terrifying situations.

And even during those horrifying moments, he still manages to work in a joke, and you want to laugh as you frantically turn the next page to see if the protagonist makes it out alive. I have no doubt that he might kill off a main character moments after poking fun at their name, and both moments would come across as entirely sincere.

Specifically I want to bring up an example I just came across. I’ve been going through his books in chronological order and I just got to Going Postal (spoilers ahead) and I can see why so many people have this book as their favorite.

Our main character, Moist, has been unwillingly appointed Postmaster, and the old Post Office is filled with decades of undelivered mail. It’s revealed to him, over the course of a few chapters, that the undelivered mail speaks to people, and the collective spirits of those hundreds of thousands of undelivered letters are restless and angry and trapped.

I’d like to make a note that I think this is the first time Pratchett has used magic in this particular way. Discworld has the Magic-Themed books, and the Not Magic books, and while there are occasional overlaps, for the most part Magic is used as a foil and satire for classic magical stories, or as a way for Wizards and Witches to tell their stories. Theclosest I can remember Magic happening to this is in Moving Pictures, where the Holly Wood spirit escapes into Discworld and infects the people there to start making movies, and this mostly subtle and seems a way for Pratchett to make a note of how insane it is for us to treat movies and actors and the whole business of making them in the way we do.

I’m actually rather pleased that he chose The Mail to be something that is just… magic. Unexplained, powerful, something that makes sense and yet doesn’t. Maybe that will change as I get further in the book.

To the moment I’m thinking of. Moist has just been declared Postmaster, and now he’s confronted, in the dark, by the spirits of the mail. They ask him if he will do his job, if he will move the mail again. He says that he isn’t worthy, and the mail says that they just need someone, anyone who will help them.

So Moist says he will. He will do it.

Then the mail, all the hundreds of thousands of unsent letters, say

Deliver Us

And this is what I’m talking about. This is a climatic moment, a moment where Moist is making big changes in his life, in what he is deciding to do. You can feel the desperation of the mail to be sent to their destinations, to be freed from this stagnant hell.

Deliver Us

It’s a pun, you see. Because you deliver mail. It gets delivered. A joke, in the middle of this important moment. It’s a pun and an order, to do his job, to let them fulfill their purpose.

And at the same time, it’s a plea. A desperate, angry plea to be set free and given life again, a plea that someone, even someone like Moist, will be their savior and deliver them from their endless purgatory.

Deliver Us

This is what I love about Terry Pratchett.

#Terry Pratchett #Discworld #Moist Von Lipwig #Going Postal

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multifandomfanficss · 2 months

Text

F*ck You?

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

and the rest of the 11th Street Kids

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: Adrian has his own secret way of asking you to sleep with him.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, but no actual sex. The team bullying Adrian as per cannon ☹️. Peacemaker typical language.

A/N: Just a silly little thought I had at 5am during a text convo with one of my best friends when I couldn’t sleep. Shout out Tyler for letting me bounce this idea off you. Thanks bestie! Just a short little fic. The italics are flashbacks. Crossposting on my AO3 adriansglasses.

Adrian stuck his middle finger up, pointed at you. You were going through some files on the other side of the room unable to see him behind the papers you were focusing on. Those who saw were giving him questioning looks.

“Dude why are you flipping off, (Y/N)? I didn’t realize you were mad at them” Economos decided to be the first to question him. Usually he didn’t care enough to ask, but even he was curious as to why Adrian was enthusiastically flipping you off.

“Oh! That’s because I’m not. I just wanna have sex when we get back to my apartment. I was saying can I fuck you.” Adrian says, as if it’s obvious. Chris begins to laugh, having overheard the conversation.

“Oh my god. I’m not sure if you’re insane or an idiot.” Harcourt rolls her eyes, walking away.

“I’m pretty sure he’s both. You know that’s not what that means right?” Economos questions.

“It has two meanings.” Adrian says in a very matter of fact way.

“No, it doesn’t.” John argues.

“Then how do they always know what I mean?” Adrian asks, as if he’s proving his point.

Chris continues to laugh to himself as Adrian and Economos argue.

You’re deep in thought, not paying them any attention when Leota passes you the file you were looking for.

“Thanks!” You smile at her.

“Why is Adrian flipping you off?” She asks.

You look over at him, blushing. You nod.

“See!” Adrian yells throwing up his arms. “Two meanings! I told you!”

“Oh god.” You blush, hiding your face in one of the files. You didn’t need the entire team knowing you were going home to have sex after this, but it’s not like it was that big of a surprise. You’d been dating Adrian for a while, of course you had a sex life. “I don’t know how or why he got it into his head that fuck you means can I fuck you- but like I personally think it’s very clever and very cute so I just don’t correct him.” You laugh, deciding to be honest with Leota.

You thought back to the first time he flipped you off in such a manner. You were out with the team celebrating with drinks after a mission. He threw up his middle finger, drawing a question mark in the air with the other hand. You looked at him with a confused look and mouthed. ‘Are you asking me to have sex with you?’ and he mouth back, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’. Only Adrian could think something like that was obvious. Only Adrian would even do something like that. You smiled, laughing quietly to yourself. It was so uniquely him.

Chris was still laughing uncontrollably in the back. He was thinking of the first time he’d seen Adrian do this too. Little did everyone else know Chris had been the one to teach it to him long before you were dating.

“You really wanna know how I pick up chicks across the bar?” Chris asked with a shit eating smirk.

“Please!” Adrian begged. He could pull girls as Vigilante no problem, but it was a lot harder without the suit.

“Be direct. Just ask if she wants to go home with you. The most subtle way to be direct is to flip her off.” Chris falsely informs.

“Wait… you want me to be subtle and direct? I’m confused.” Adrian asks.

“Well, yeah. You want her to know, not the whole bar.” Chris quickly lies.

“I always thought flipping somebody off was an insult.” Adrian is rightfully cautious.

“It has two meanings. It’s like special. Special can mean you’re one of a kind, cool, awesome, or it could be used the other way.” Chris explains.

“Oh! Okay!” Adrian smiles, before pausing, with a pondering facial expression. “Wait! You call me special all the time.”

“You should hit on that girl over there!” Chris redirects.

“Okay… here goes nothing…” Adrian says, slowly raising his middle finger. The girl looks shocked and starts to walk up to the two men at the bar. “Oh wow! I think it worked!”

Her pace picks up. She walks up to Adrian, slapping him, hard.

“Wait! This is positive! I’m hitting on you!” Adrian says frantically with his finger still up, as she walks away.

“Aw! Fuck! Do you think maybe she had a boyfriend?” Adrian asks, adjusting his glasses and rubbing his jaw.

“Yeah, maybe.” Chris laughs hysterically.

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lawqual1ty · 3 months

Text

Dueling (Trafalgar Law x Reader)

Pov: You temporarily joined the Heart Pirates as a measure to get stronger while the two time year gap passed, this results in you participating in some activities that they have as training...

My god is this the longest I've ever written-- I even forgot to eat lol.

Warning: Curse words, mention of Marine Ford, Trauma response(?), fight scenes

Enjoy!

Training with the Heart Pirates had never been easy, if anything it was quite the arduous job. Not only did you have to learn different medical techniques but you also had to learn how to fend for yourself in different scenarios. You should have expected this as soon as you ended up joining them temporarily until the time lapse of two years passed and you could go back to your own crew: The Strawhats but alas… Anything was good enough as long as you could get stronger for your Captain and your Crewmates.

Although this didn’t mean you didn’t have your fun moments with the Heart pirates. You were reading a few books over in the library one morning after finishing off your main duties, it had become a habit of yours as soon as you got used to the not so subtle rocking of the Submarine, it wasn’t as intense as when you were in the Thousand Sunny or the Going Merry but it had a different level of dizziness that got some time to get used to, after all a ship had the advantage of being in the sunlight with some sounds from the exterior, a submarine? Not so much… and if you did end up hearing something it would never be good. You were reading over a few [ages when you heard the characteristic voices of your crewmates Sachi and Penguin together with the silent hushes from Bepo. You looked over at the main clock that hung over the library main door noticing it had passed an hour since you entered the library which explained why their voices were heading in your direction. Your brows furrowed as you heard their footsteps rapidly approaching, you left the book back up in the shelve just as soon as the door burst open revealing your crewmates at the other side with a pair of enthusiastic smiles. “Y/N!! WE KNOW YOU’RE IN HERE LET’S GO!” You let out a soft sigh as you heard Sachi’s enthusiastic voice come from over the main entrance. Bepo panicked as he yelled out “You’re a rank below me! You’re not supposed to give out orders?!” he hit the back of Sachi’s head wining himself a sonorous laugh coming from Penguin and you, you walked up to the trio with easy steps, trying your best to not topple over as you made your way to the three of ‘em with a soft roll of your eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming sheesh…” You let out a soft sigh as you looked at them. As soon as you got closer, they smiled and made their way back to the corridor while you followed behind them not before closing the library door. Today was a special day, once in a while your Captain would allow the Polar Tang to resurface allowing all of your crewmates to enjoy the sun light and fresh air before going insane down in the depths of the Grand line ocean. It would be a special treat for all of you which resulted in the idea that has now brought your crewmates looking for you and dragging you out of your safe spot: training duels.

Sachi and Penguin were walking ahead of you and Bepo, clearly excited about the duels as they sometimes jumped up saying as to how they were going to beat each other this time around and how they wouldn’t hold back against anyone just to get the chance of sparring. You couldn’t help but smile as you walked behind them together with Bepo, it wasn’t the first time you did this sort of duels so you already knew what the outcome would be. The characteristic sound of a siren made the people around you quiet down as the submarine rocked ever so slightly as it started resurfacing, you had to hold onto one of the walls for support as the ground became a tad bit unstable. You may have gotten used to the normal rocking of the Polar Tang but you sure as hell haven’t gotten used to the strong movements of when it got back to the surface, it wasn’t only the rough movements it was also the combination of vertigo and emptiness that accompanied it that made your stomach hurl. It was a weird sensation almost as if you were flying for a brief moment before being struck down onto the ground by that same gravity as soon as you reached the sky. It wasn’t something you missed but hey, it was worth it after spending so many months under the deep blue of the ocean.

The siren ceased its singing making you let out a sigh of relief that was quickly quieted down by the enthusiastic voice of Bepo that ran down the corridor and onto the main door. His boots clanked against the metal floor before being quickly replaced by the heavy sound of the door handle spinning, a loud SPUSH was heard as the door shuttle opened letting in the fresh scent of the salty ocean air drift inside together with the warm sunlight. It had been a while since any of you saw the sun so it was a sight that made you smile as the cold corridors of the Polar Tang got illuminated by it giving it a sense of warmth and comfort you had missed. You made your way down the corridor and out onto the open as you unzipped your boiler suit just above the waist, leaving your body breathe from the tightness and boiling warmth from it. You sighed with relief as the fresh air from outside hit your skin adding to that sense of finally being back in the surface and out into the light. Your peaceful thoughts were quickly interrupted by the enthusiastic thumps of boots as Sachi mad its way to you and Bepo followed closely behind by Penguin.

“We can now do the duels!” He yelped out enthusiastically as he formed his hands into fists, Penguin nodded at his words.

“Yeah! We just have to tell the captain and gather everyone here on deck!” He spoke enthusiastically, while you smiled softly at the two of ‘em.

“Sure, we’ll get everything ready over here with Bepo” the mentioned nodded with excitement as he finally cooled down from the undying heat from the submarine.

And with that you four got to work. You and Bepo made a circle on the ground to signal where the arena would be while Sachi and Penguin began bringing everyone outside for your once in a while duel. As soon as everything was ready everyone started gathering around including your captain, Trafalgar Law. Sachi yelled out enthusiastically.

“OKAY EVERYONE!” He yelped out gaining everyone’s attention as he stood next to Law making him flinch at his sudden enthusiasm. “You know the rules! Our Captain over here will be our judge for the different set of duels we’ll have today! Each of you will pick a paper from the bowl and whoever has your matching figure will be your opponent for the day!”

Penguin interrupted Sachi with a light tap on his shoulder “Just remember these duels are based on pure strength and strategy, no weapons nor powers are allowed!” Law nodded at his words with his usual stern expression.

“That is correct” He looked over at all his crew including yourself “I’ll be the referee as always so I expect to see you display the best of your abilities during your duels, don’t underestimate your opponent and take this as seriously as any other training day…”

Penguin and Sachi chuckled at their Captain’s words.

“Oh, come on Captain”

“No need to be that serious” Penguin snickered

“That’s my only condition” Law spoke sternly leaving no chance for arguments against him. You cackled silently as the other two quieted down.

If there is something that was different compared to the Strawhats and The Heart Pirates was their Captain. While Luffy would have probably laughed along with Sachi and Penguin and make this whole duel thing onto a game, Law never wavered in his seriousness even though part of you knew that he still enjoyed doing this recreational stuff for his crew although he didn’t show it as much. With a few stern words and banter the duels began, you took one of the papers out of the bowl with no expectations as how it would go although you did feel a sense of nervousness and excitement to finally be able to show your new found strength.

You still remember the first duel you ever participated in, you had gone against ikkaku and since it was your first time facing off against one of your crewmates you weren’t exactly ready for it. You had won but only due to some brief luck which made you want to train harder with every passing duel which resulted in you becoming stronger as time went by. This sure as hell made you excited about the duel of today as you unfolded the paper you had picked from the bowl that Bepo had been passing around. Your eyes focused on the contents of the paper as a star greeted you back, it seemed as you wouldn’t get to fight up until later since the star usually meant you were going third, a hand was placed on your shoulder quickly taking you out of your trance as you turned to look over at the one who interrupted your thoughts.

“Hm?” You were quickly met with Ikakku’s soft smile

“Hey, it seems we both are going to duel” You couldn’t help but beam at the chance of getting to fight against Ikkaku, after all a few duels had passed since you last fought. You nodded eagerly.

“It seems like it!” You smiled with a sense of pride “Try and not go easy on me, okay?”

Your comment made her laugh. “Oh, don’t worry I wasn’t planning to!”

After everyone had picked out their dueling partner your Captain yelled out winning everyone’s attention with his hoarse yet loud voice. “Okay everyone may the circle duo step on the arena!”

The first ones to step up were Sachi and Jean bart, it would seem a bit unfair considering the height difference but if there’s one thing you’ve learned is to never guide yourself just by a single glance alone, not everything is as it seems and their duel was enough to prove that after all what jean bart had in raw strength Sachi had in agility and speed which made the duel an interesting sight as the rest of your crew watched. The squeak of a whistle presented the end of the duel as your Captain raised his tattooed hand and waved it to the side of Sachi.

“Sachi wins this duel! He’ll be moving on to the next round!” Everyone erupted into claps and cheers as Sachi yelled out excitedly.

“HELL YEAH!” Remembering his comradery, he walked up to Jean and held out a hand to him to help him stand up. Jean looked up and with a soft smirk took his hand into his and stood up from the ground with a nod of acknowledgement, no words were exchanged but you could sense the level of respect they had for each other in that single glance. That’s one of the things you were glad didn’t change even in the Heart Pirates crew: Comradery. It made you smile as you remembered old times with your own crew… a sense of nostalgia mixing in with the adrenaline of the duels giving you a sour yet sweet taste in your mouth as you kept on watching the different duels that played out. The feeling didn’t wash off even as you and Ikkaku headed to the middle of the arena to fight.

“Good luck” You whispered softly to her before walking to your side of the ring, she smirked

“You’ll need it more than me…” You rolled your eyes playfully at her words before letting out a soft chuckle. You were nervous but excitement flooded that feeling as you looked over at Ikakku waiting a tad bit impatiently for your Captain to give out the signal that you could start dueling. His cold piercing eyes scanned the two of you with an analytical gaze almost as if he was judging even the way you stood in front of each other and tried to calculate the distance between your left foot and your right foot to see where the flaws in your stance was although you caught a glimpse of surprise as he didn’t seem to find any… he lowered his gaze and raised his tattooed arm onto the sky making you tense up as your vision focused on your opponent. Law took a deep breath.

“BEGIN!”

With a stern expression he yelled out. You smirked and quickly bolted towards Ikkaku throwing a high kick her way, she swiftly covered herself with her forearm stopping your advances and ending your leg back in the same direction it came by and trying to hit you with her right fist. You quickly covered yourself up letting a soft sigh as she hit your forearm and not your face before swiftly attacking her again with your fist before turning around in your edge attempting to land a round house kick to the side of her forehead. Her eyes widened as she leaned back swiftly avoiding your attack, she lost a bit of balance so she placed her hands on the ground and quickly did a cart-wheel to get away from you and kneel on the ground as the two of you caught your breath. This fight wasn’t going to be easy and you both knew that…

Sooner rather than later you managed to beat her much to your surprise, your captain’s nod made you even more proud, he acknowledges your victory as you helped Ikkaku stand up.

As the sun starting teasing with its setting in orange waves you felt your body get sorer by the second. Somehow you had managed to get to the final rounds were you now had to face-off against Bepo, both of you were exhausted so the outcome was unpredictable. You were covered in sweat as you grunted, covering yourself as best as you could from the second in commands rapid attacks. Your mind was fuzzy as you tried to look for an opening in which you could land at least on strike all while both your Captain and Crewmates looked at the quite fierce battle clearly impressed. Your fight and attacks were so intense that they had begun creating gusts of wind with every punch or kick that landed on your skin. You were nervous and so was Bepo, the only one who seemed to be calm was Law as he looked at the duel develop with a judging gaze.

“HIYA!” With a loud yell Bepo leaned down and kicked upwards making your arms raise up, leaving your center fully open for him to strike. You tsked in panic as you saw he was about to hit ya’. You had to act and fast or otherwise you would have to bear that punch (Pun not intended). A Pom was loudly heard as you flew back and out of the arena, you braced yourself for the imminent impact that your back was going to face only to suddenly feel dizzy, almost as if you had been switched or teleported.

“Y/N-YA IS OUT!” The stern voice of your Captain made you burst your eyes open as you realized what had happened. You looked up from your position finding yourself with Law’s face just mere inches away from your face as he looked at the rest of the crew sternly. “BEPO WINS THE DUELING MATCH!”

Everyone erupted in a mixture of both excited cheers and claps as they ran over to Bepo to congratulate him, you smiled softly as you stepped down from your Captain’s arms and walked over to Bepo to the best of your abilities, after all you were pretty darn sore from the duels you had to endure. As soon as you approached him, he beamed.

“Nice duel Y/N but you should have known I would win you” He smiled proudly “After all you are under me!”

You couldn’t hide your smile as he spoke proudly, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you patted his back “At least give me credit for trying man!”

“Hey! Why don’t we celebrate!?” Sachi yelled out before dappling his arms over both you and Bepo’s shoulders winning himself a brow perk up from the two of you. Before he quickly let go of the two of you with a frown of disgust. “AH! YOU GUYS ARE SWEATY!?” The whole crew erupted into laughter including you. The sight even made the stern Law pop out a small smirk although none of you noticed as you were too busy thinking on how many drinks you were all going to share that night.

•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•

The night went on as cheerfully as that day had started. A few drunkish chats and singing could be heard at the top of the Polar Tang as the moonlight cheered with the Heart Pirates after a long day of training and dueling. For once you didn’t hide in the library and sat at the top of the Polar Tang with a mug full of beer that you drank while you watched the rest get into different banters and scenarios all thanks to the joy and excitement of the previous duels. You couldn’t hide your amusement as you focused on Sachi and Bepo play-fighting about who was the strongest, after all they didn’t get to duel against each other during the main tournament. You took a swig of your drink without realizing the presence of a certain surgeon slowly approaching behind you.

“You sure put up a good fight…” His deep voice came out of the blue, you looked over your shoulder with a curious gaze finding yourself with your Captain walking up to you. You smiled at him seemingly glad to see him again as it seemed both of you had decided to enjoy the party instead of hiding, him in his office and you in the library.

“I guess I did…” You spoke humbly as you shifted your focus back to the crew wining yourself a low chuckle from him.

“You guess?” He took a seat next to you. “I was the referee… you really doubting my judging skills?”

You chuckled “Not at all…” You sighed as you leaned back and looked up at the night sky “It’s just…”

Your eyes narrowed as you focused on the moon which greeted you with a unique shine unlike any other night down at sea. “I still have a long way to go…”

Your words made him hum thoughtfully as he looked up at the moon together with you. He understood where you were coming from after all you were one of the only strawhats that participated in Marine ford besides Luffy which obviously left an impression on you even when Luffy told you to go train with him for the two-year time lapse. It was not an easy decision but it was one you had decided to stick by but somehow struggled to accept how strong you had become. After a bit of silence and pondering Law stood up from where he sat and walked to the side, you fully expected for that to be the end of your interaction until his voice called for you “Y/N-ya come…”.

“Huh…?” Your eyes widened as he walked off fully trusting that you would follow behind. You looked at your drink opening your mouth to protest only to resignedly taking a long swig out of it finishing it off and leaving the mug at your side a you stood up, almost tripping as you ran behind your Captain. You followed him over to a secluded area at the back of the Polar Tang, you were still outside but it was pretty far away from the rush and bustle that was going on at the main deck leaving you both and Law alone in middle of the some-what silent night. Your mind started racing as you pondered on why exactly he had taken you here, did he want to chat with you? Then why didn’t he do it at the top of the Polar Tang…? It was quiet enough there after all, well… as quiet as you could get with a rowdy crew like that one of the Heart Pirates. You looked out at sea with a curious gaze before turning to your Captain.

“Is there something wrong…?” You asked in a soft tone as you faced him. He didn’t respond making you even more uneasy as the soft sound of the waves surrounding you was the only sort of noise that greeted your ears. He looked down at his hands as his back was facing you, as if he was analyzing the situation, he took a deep breath as he placed his hand on top of his feathery cape and let it drop over to the top of the railing making sure it wouldn’t fall over to the sea.

“You say you still have a long way to go…” He spoke with a soft tone to his usually strong and stern voice. You looked with curiosity as your Captain gently turned around to face you with an almost blank expression in his face.

“And honestly I can agree with you…”

You were about to speak when you were suddenly cut short. Your surprise only increasing when he suddenly raised his hand out to you in an almost challenging way. “But I want you to look at the whole picture here…”

You froze in place, your eyes darting from his hand that stood firmly in front of you as the word ‘DEATH’ greeted you and back over to his eyes that analyzed your reaction, seemingly as if he wanted to read your reaction to his words. It was obvious what he wanted, although that didn’t make it any easier for you to accept his challenge. You took a deep breath before taking a fighting stance with your fists raised up to your face, you could a hundred percent bet that you saw a soft smirk grace his lips for a moment before he ran towards you. Your eyes widened at his inhuman speed as he tried to strike you down with a swift punch, you quickly covered yourself with your forearm just as you had done with Ikakku and Bepo a few hours earlier during your previous duels. If it wasn’t for the fact that you had already seen Law fight before you would have been even more caught off guard by his speed and strength, but it wasn’t like you would allow yourself to stay behind at all. You let out a grunt before swiftly pushing his fist upwards with your forearm giving you an opening to strike the side of his ribs with a side hook, his cold grey eyes followed your movements as he prevented your fist from even gracing his body with a swift downwards swing of his right hand as he moved his waist away from you. Using the momentum of taking your hand away from his rib and pushing you down he raised his right leg to kick the top of your head, you stuttered in your movements as you quickly pushed yourself forward and rolled on the ground to get away from Law and his immediate attacks. He let out a loud tsk as he turned around to face you with a clearly displeased expression on his face.

“Your punches…” He spoke sternly as he looked at you catch your breath and nerve “They still are full of doubt… What the fuck are you so scared of?” Your eyes widened at his accusation, but he didn’t give you time to react as he suddenly bolted towards you. You let out a yelp as his fist nearly strikes your face if it wasn’t for you reacting on time. He glared at you as he tried to force his way in through your defense.

“Stop doubting yourself…” He spoke sternly as he kept on adding force making you grunt, whether it was out of pain or out of shame you no longer knew. “If you want to become stronger you have to understand what you already have… what drives you to fight, Y/N-ya?”

His voice lingered in your mind as you let out a yell and pushed your Captain away from you making him topple over as he flew back for a brief moment. You huffed as he ran towards you attacking you once more, he was relentless… he didn’t even let you think yet your mind didn’t stop wondering from side to side… What were you fighting for…? Why did you even begin this journey for…? You pondered and pondered yet Law’s attacks never ceased to stop you on your tracks almost as if saying that your reasoning was wrong… he wasn’t saying anything but you could almost swear you could hear his voice saying “Try again” with that husky voice that characterized him and only him, that same voice that always made you run over to the other side of the ship as soon as you knew you screwed up… That same voice that grounded everyone when they were in panic… That same voice that had always made you question yourself yet somehow kept you steady with the promise of something else… something more to be or to fight for as you punched and slashed what you needed to… what started out a simple duel suddenly became a fight between you and your mind while Law just guided you were not to wander to with a punch or a kick that made you trip up. A swift strike to your leg sent you toppling backwards with a loud curse to the air as you fell on your butt.

“SHIT!!” Law looked at you from his standing point, the dark lines in his chest almost dancing on his skin as he breathed in and out. Although your mind had threatened to go to other places during your duel you sure as hell did put up a good fight, and the sweat in both of your foreheads and bodies demonstrated it. He sighed softly as he looked at you on the ground, too exhausted to move as you covered your face in anger… or so he thought.

“Listen I—” He was quickly cut short by a very familiar sound, soft sniffles started to come from your side in the ground. Law’s eyes widened as he gently approached you seemingly at a loss on what to do now… He had never been the best with emotions after all. You on the other hand didn’t notice his approach, you hid your face in both pain and sadness as you tried your best to control your sniffles and cries. Your mind was racing… His words still lingering in your mind: What are you fighting for…?

“I….” You started speaking in between sobs, with a steady yet somewhat shaky breath you took your arm away from your face and looked up at the sky, a determined frown in your tear-soaked face. “I WANT TO FIGHT FOR THE FREEDOM OF OTHERS!”

Your words came out in a jumbled yet somewhat coherent mess that made Law smile pleasantly, he gently closed his eyes before he spoke.

“Then…” He walked up to you as you began sitting up straight giving out a helping hand to you as he showed a sincere yet barely visible smile. “Fight with that same trust you give others…”

His face shifted back to a serious one once more as his once sort of warm eyes began flaring up with a determined flame you had rarely seen in the heart Pirates Captain. “Trust what you know and fight me with that…” You looked into his eyes, a new sense of determination washing over you as you dried off your tears and smiled at him.

“Aye Aye Captain…” Your words made him cackle as you took his hand in yours with a firm grip, standing up in the process. He looked over at you for a brief moment before walking to the opposite side of the railing once more. You took a deep breath together with him as he spoke once more signaling the beginning of a new era unbeknownst to both of you.

“Again…!”

#one piece #trafalgar law #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece fic #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #one piece fluff #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece scenario #law x reader #law x you

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freak-accident419 · 4 months

Note

Helloo, I hope you’re doing alright!! I was wondering if you can make a fic about Josh Futturman that’s set after the show?? Like at around the early 2000s (since they end up in 1999 iirc) And when he meets the reader at his new job he gets a crush on them so he invites them over to hang out :-)

I think it would be cute fluff (like a little kissing) but if you can manage to make it smut that’s good too :P

His Silver Lining

Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

Summary: Josh had been adjusting fairly well to the year 2000 after tragically getting stuck in it. Though for quite a while, he had developed a crush on you ever since he first met you during his new job at Blockbuster. He finally gets the courage to ask you out—which was inviting you over at his place to watch a horror movie.

Word Count: 2.7k

Content: fluff, gender neutral reader, takes place in year 2000 (after season 3 events), Josh uses “Pastman” for a fake name, spoilers for season 3

(A/n: First of all, I’m doing just fine, thanks so much anon !! Second, I don’t know if this was exactly what you wanted based on the request, but I hope it’s okay !! I can’t tell if it’s half-assed, but it was the best I could do!)

Josh adjusted quite well to the year 2000. He found a place to live, got a simple job at a Blockbuster store in Pasadena, and almost accepted his life here in this timeline. Sure, he would usually make a few slip ups like the fact that NYSC would break up, Britney Spears’ conservatorship, and the existence of the Xbox, but nobody would think too much of it; to them, they were just wacky, pessimistic predictions—except for the Xbox, of course.

You were a regular customer at the Blockbuster store. You were quite the film buff, immersing yourself in old cinema and classics as you would rent a new movie every twice a week. And it was almost love at first sight for Josh when he saw you at the counter renting The Last Starfighter—it was destiny.

A bit sheepish from how attractive you were to him, he stammered over his words a bit clumsily, which you only smiled admiringly at.

The first thing he noticed about you were your eyes. They were bright and optimistic. With this, it revealed to him that you were quite charming and friendly. The second thing he noticed about you was your style—your fashion was unique, yet delightfully peculiar. It was sort of refreshing to see, which made you stand out compared to anyone else he’s met. And he should’ve seen this first if it weren’t for your eyes, but the third thing he noticed was your smile. It was so beautiful that he couldn’t believe that it was himself that brought you to grin like that.

“‘The Last Starfighter’? Really?” Josh asked after he came out of the trance you put him in, ringing you up.

“Yeah, I know, I… It’s a bit of a classic, hell, I was, like, nine years old when it came out, but… Y’know… I’m just… Expanding my horizons. I kinda just immerse myself in mostly eighties movies,” you chuckle. The cashier was endearingly dorky to you. He had soft brown hair and eyes, with a cute smile, undeniably caused by you. You’ve never seen him before however, and you came here frequently, so you assumed he was a new hire.

The movie you’re renting would only remind himself of his own life—how his video game became reality, bringing him into the most traumatizing and insane adventures. Hell, it took him a month to finally stop seeing his parents from afar ever since he got trapped in this timeline. So the subtle mention of it would have sparked melancholic nostalgia in him under different circumstances, but right now, he was far too distracted from how pretty you were.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s an alright movie, I’d say,” he replied with a faint chuckle, reinforcing your belief in the film as you took out your cash to purchase the rental.

“Hey, so, um, are you new here?” You asked briefly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Did I—did I make it that obvious? Like was there something unprofessional I did—”

“No, god, no,” you giggled—it was the sweetest thing Josh had ever heard in a long, long time. “It’s just—I’m a regular here. Rent movies all the time. Usually Brandon or Steffie rings me up. When did you start?” You asked, watching him place your money in the register, then retrieving the amount of change you had.

“Oh, like, a week ago,” he answered, giving you your change.

“Well,” you peered at his name tag, “Josh. Welcome to Blockbuster. Get used to seeing this face every twice a week.”

He chuckled softly to himself, almost in fluster as well, because he knew he would look forward to be seeing you frequently. “I’ll look forward to it, um…” He trailed off with anticipation as he handed you the VHS tape and receipt.

“Y/n,” you grinned, taking it in your hands and making your way to the exit.

And so, the last thing he noticed about you was the silver ring on your right index finger.

***

It was like this for a couple of weeks. You would come in, get a movie, exchange smiles and giddy laughter, then leave. He would observe the movies you would rent, though he would also occasionally make some more accidental slip ups about the future:

“‘Dead Poets Society’?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the VHS cover. You nodded pridefully. The image of Robin Williams caught his attention. “A shame he died. He was awesome.”

“Neil Perry? Yeah, I suppose,” you reply.

“Wh—Oh,” Josh stammered in realization.

***

“‘Dawn of the Dead’? Hell yeah! That man, Zack Snyder, is a genius.” He declared with a wide grin.

“Who?”

He looked back at the cover. This was the 1978 movie. The Zack Snyder version wouldn’t come out until four years from now. “Oh.”

***

You brought up a ‘Back to the Future’ VHS at the counter, causing Josh to raise an eyebrow.

“Huh.” How ironic.

***

You came into the Blockbuster store once again. Over time, your crush on Josh only increased. There was something about his dorky, sweet, awkwardness that charmed you, that even on days you didn’t feel like watching a movie, you went anyways and rented one as an excuse to see him again.

Today, Josh had a confident mindset—this was the day he was going to ask you out. He felt very prepared to speak to you once you would walk up to the counter with a movie.

“Hey, Josh,” you smile softly as you see him at the counter.

“Oh, hey, Y/n. Got any specific movie you’re looking for, or are you just gonna browse today?”

“Well, now that you mention it,” you began, “Do you have any movie suggestions for me?” You walk to the front counter where he was, crossing your arms on the surface with an expecting smile on your face.

“Hm. Depends,” he answered. “What, um… genre are you looking for?”

“Not sure,” you shrugged. “Just anything. Any movie you’d like.”

“A movie I like?”

“Yeah,” you smile.

“Why me?”

“Eh. I guess I trust your taste.”

With an attractive chuckle under his breath, he led you to a specific aisle of the store. Then, he finally grabbed a movie for you.

“Sleepaway Camp?” You raise an eyebrow as you gently took the VHS from his hands.

“Yeah. Yeah, um, it’s a really great horror movie,” he claimed. While Josh would usually be scared shitless of this kind of slasher, he was so desensitized to nearly everything due to all of his time travel adventures. He witnessed his companions chop up his co-workers and saw his work crush’s head explode right in front of him. And plus, he already watched this movie, so he knew where all the scary parts were.

“Horror movie? I don’t know if I’m much of a horror person,” you bit the inside of your cheek and smile kindly.

“Wait. You’re scared of horror movies?”

“I didn’t say I was scared—”

“I think it’s heavily implied.”

“No, I… I quite enjoyed the—The Silence of the Lambs and—”

“No, no, no, Y/n, that’s different. Like, you gotta watch Sleepaway Camp. It’s crazy. Like, insane,” he emphasized.

“I don’t know, man,” you laugh softly.

It’s now or never, Josh thought. “Okay, okay, how about this: we watch it together. At my place. I have a TV and microwavable popcorn. I can even let you know where the jump scares are and everything,” he initiated endearingly.

You offer a coy smile as you fidget with the ring on your finger. “Josh Pastman, are you seriously asking me out?” Because his six-year-old self exists in the same timeline as him now, he would’ve had to have a cover name—which was actually the same one he used back at the meth lab.

You could swear you saw his face flush red a second after you said this, making you giggle to yourself.

“I—Well. Sorta. Well. Only if—if you—if you would want to—”

“I’d love to, Josh,” you interrupted charmingly, looking at the back cover of the VHS’ clamshell to skim through the movie’s details.

“W-wait, really?” He blurted in surprise. While he did intend to ask you out, he never really expected you to actually accept it—his self confidence was fairly low and the poor man has never gotten a break.

“I mean, yeah, sure, why not? Bold of you to suggest a horror movie for our first movie together, though,” a smug smile appeared on your lips. You suspected he would choose it because you would inevitably cuddle with him in fear. It really wasn’t his intention, though. It was genius, nonetheless. “Hm. Respect.”

Josh stammered over his words, slightly abashed. “I—Wait—No, that’s—”

“I’m just messing with you.”

He sighed in relief. He was adorable. “Okay, so, the movie’s fine? We can—we can change it—”

“It’s all good, Pastman,” you laugh. “Don’t sweat it. I’m gonna be busy for the upcoming days, so is tonight gonna be alright with you?”

“Yeah. Yeah! That’s—that’s perfect!”

You scoffed playfully at his mannerisms. “I’ll see you then, Josh.”

“I’ll—Yeah! Yeah, I’ll see you then!”

***

“Oh my god, I hate you, I fucking hate you,” you breathed in his neck as you held onto him tightly. A quite gruesome, unsettling scene had just appeared on the TV screen, not like it was the first one that occurred, but you were at a point where you couldn’t take it anymore.

Josh was blushing furiously as he felt your warmth on his body, your hands clutching at his shirt, and face buried in his neck. It felt nice for him to protect you, holding you in his arms, feeling his blood rush to his face.

It was an unintentional plan. It practically wasn’t even a plan to begin with. But it was genius nonetheless.

“Hey, it’s not that bad, it’s just shitty special effects of the eighties,” he chuckled, looking down at you.

“Dude. I get nightmares of even the most mildest crap,” you argue.

“Yeah, well, at least we’re not watching The Human Centipede. Now, that shit is fucking crazy.”

You grimace as you hear the title name. “I don’t think I even wanna know what that is.” And you wouldn’t. Not until another 9 years, give or take.

You peek fearfully at the TV screen with uncertainty. “If I see shit like this in my dream tonight, I am going to fucking destroy you,” you claim.

“Oh, really?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah. I know where you live.” The two of you laugh softly. It was a beautifully, harmonious sound, your laughter. The way your voice overlapped with his, it was a sweet symphony. He had the greatest laugh. You finally moved your face from his neck and looked at him. Then he looked at you. Another calm, shared laugh until he finally grabbed the remote to pause the movie.

As you remained to grip onto his shirt, he glanced at your silver ring. “Hey, what’s—what’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That!”

“Wh—what?”

“The—the ring.”

“O-oh, my ring?” You chuckled softly as you look at the shiny band hugging your finger.

“Yeah. What’s the—what’s the deal with it?” You raise an eyebrow as you looked at him with playful uncertainty.

“Well, I always believed on ‘the bright side,’ you know? The saying that ‘every cloud has a silver lining’. Like, when shit hits the fan, there’s at least one advantage coming from it.” Josh looked in your eyes as you explained, yourself too preoccupied with the carvings on your ring. “And a silver ring is quite literally sort of like a silver lining. I know—I know it’s corny, but a friend gave it to me, and I guess it means a lot.”

He hums in response, not taking his eyes off you. You were gorgeous. “Take this moment, for example,” you start, finally looking back at him, which elicited another blush on his cheeks. “I am being scared shitless by this fucking eighties horror movie, but… at least I’m watching it with my favorite Blockbuster employee.”

His eyes widened, quite comically as well. “I—I’m your favorite?”

You nod with a polite smile.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Not even—not even Steffie or Brandon?”

“N—”

“Not even Matty? He’s, like, everyone’s favorite, he’s so kind, and—”

“Josh! Holy shit!” You exclaimed, giggling at his disbelief. “They’re all nice, yes, but you are definitely my favorite.”

He slightly parted his lips in awe, then grinned sweetly. “Well, I hope you’re happy to know that you’re my favorite customer.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, yeah. Even the guy who knows so much about video games, that guy cannot take your place.”

“Oh jeez, so technically I did have competition, huh?”

“Eh, not really. I like you too much.”

Josh actually couldn’t believe he just said that to you. He wanted to play it cool, but his eyes widened once he processed what be just told you.

You blushed softly instead, smiling to yourself as you bit the inside of your cheek. “O-okay, so, why’d you ask me about my ring?”

“Well, initially, I was curious. But also, I thought that if you had to explain and think about something else, you would forget at least some of the scenes in this movie that freaked you out,” he explained.

“Wait, really?”

“I feel a little bad. I don’t want you to get nightmares because of me.”

“Seriously? That’s so sweet of you, Josh.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not a big deal, anyone wou—”

“I mean, I know that, but,” you intervened, “It’s not just that, you… You’ve always been so amazing to me, you know? You’re kind, and charming, and patient, and… you are really funny.” Josh smiled at you bashfully as you chuckle. You were so charmed by him. He stood out to you, and you didn’t really know why. He was kind and considerate, like everyone else, except it wouldn’t feel the same—in the best way possible. Josh paid close attention to you. He genuinely admired you. “You’re a really great guy, Josh. I would… definitely be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t crushing on you for a while now.”

His eyes widened, and you just smiled faintly. “W-wait, really? You—You like me in that way?”

“Um, well, yeah. I thought—Was it not obvious?”

“I—I don’t know, I—”

You both laughed together, feeling nothing but giddiness and contentment.

“But yeah, um, I really like you too,” Josh claimed after the laughter died down. “I just… I looked forward to seeing you every week because you’re just… You’re so amazing! And it just… blows my mind that you like me back, because why would someone as perfect as you, like such a loser like me?”

“Hey, you’re no loser, Josh,” you chuckle. “There’s a reason why I like you, alright?” He let out a scoff, but then nodded with a cute smile on his lips. “Hey. You said I was perfect.”

“Yeah.”

“You really mean it?”

“Of course, I do!”

You looked into his eyes quite intimately. They were brown and doting. He was beautiful.

Your hands were already on him, as you had held onto him tight in reaction to the gory movie scenes. So it wasn’t difficult to trail your hand up to the side of his neck. It seemed like he read your mind, because he remained quiet, shy, yet prepared. His eyes would switch from looking into yours and your lips.

You whisper lightly, “Can I—”

“God, please do—”

You two kissed each other slowly, yet passionately, your hands moving more comfortably to his face as you adjusted your legs slightly. His lips were soft and gentle, moving deeply with yours in the comforting silence of the room. You both were generous with your actions, as well as intimate.

Josh had realized; you were his own silver lining. It absolutely sucked to be trapped in a reality that wasn’t his, a timeline that he was forced to adjust to. That was the shittiest thing about it. But at least you were something great that came out of it all. With all of the calamity and mishap he’s experienced, you seemed to be his only comfort, an anchor to keep him stable in this reality.

You continued to kiss each other, which sort of transitioned into making out, as he held onto your hand, moving his finger gently over your ring. You gave him hope. That life here was going to be okay.

He was going to be okay.

#future man x reader #future man 2017 #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #josh futturman x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #clapton davis #mike schmidt #peeta mellark #gn reader #mike schmidt x reader

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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Intoxicating - Yandere!Fennec Fox!Jeongin

Yandere AU & Hybrid AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Jeongin X Implied Chubby!Reader

Words: 1,665

Warnings: Implied masturbation and dirty thoughts. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, here it is! The first of what I'm deeming are the 'Feral Drabbles' hehehe. This one is a bit tame to start since I'm feeling things out, but I'd really love to know what you all think of it! Like I said, I'm trying out a new style here, so I really hope you all like it. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The First of The Feral Drabbles

You’re intoxicating.

Did you know that?

Of course you did. Why else would you always wear that scarf I got you, only to casually ‘forget’ it at my place?

You know how much you drive me crazy. It’s like you want me to scent you.

Really, you can’t blame me. The soft pastel pink of the material was practically glaring at me from the hook near the front door. I had to move it before it drove me insane.

Where better to keep it than in my bed? Where you should be.

The fabric is knitted, and quite smooth to the touch. Not as smooth as your skin beneath my fingertips, but it’ll suffice for now. It has to.

My imagination can only do so much.

Oh, how I long for the day to feel you falling asleep in my arms. Sure, you do it sometimes even now, but it’s not the same.

No. Right now, we’re only friends. Friends who have an undeniable chemistry with one another. Friends who clearly want something more.

You can feel it, too, right? The way our lives are interconnected. You and I, we’re meant to be. Besides, I know what I do to you. You’re not as subtle as you think.

I hear the way your breath hitches when you catch me staring at you. I’m sure you can see the emotions in my eyes, even though I try and hide them. The love, the desire, the sheer desperation I harbour for you knows no bounds, and I’m afraid I will never stop.

I want you, and I want you to want me, too.

I know you do. I can smell the way your scent shifts the slightest bit when I do certain things. I catch you staring when you think I’m not looking. I see the way your eyes linger the slightest bit longer when I roll up my sleeves, or even come out of my room with my shirt unbuttoned. Your breath stutters slightly when I wear that cologne you like, and I notice how you lean into me more when I do.

It makes me so happy to know I can affect you in these ways. I’ll let you in on a little secret, too. I do it for you.

It’s all for you.

I know you like it when I smile, it sets your heart racing. I also know you enjoy when I run my fingers through my hair.

Do you wish it was you? Do you also want to know what it feels like to have you pulling at my hair? I bet you’d be so gentle at first, cautious even. That is, before you’re gripping it and pulling me into you to get exactly what you want from me.

Whatever it is, I don’t mind. As long as you only did it with me, I don’t care what you do. Use me, please me, love me, just whatever you do, never leave me. You’re not meant to be anyone else’s but mine. Just as I’m not meant to be with anyone else but you.

I’m yours, Baby. Forevermore.

Fuck, I wish you were here right now. I wish you could see what you do to me. I wish you could see how hard you make me, my cock throbbing from just the thought of you. Really, it’s embarrassing, how much precome leaks from the tip, my whole body aching for your touch. I want you to see how desperate I am for you, clinging onto that scarf for dear life. Maybe then I could bury my face in that delectable cunt of yours instead.

I bet your lips feel so soft and supple… god, I want you all for myself.

Would you like me playing with that pretty pussy of yours, Baby? Would you want me to finger you while you stroked my dick? Would you let me eat you out while you sucked me off? Or, would you prefer to have total control? I’d let you tie me up any time you’d like, Baby, as long as I got to do the same to you. I bet you’d look so pretty spread out on my bed, and all just for me to see.

Fuck, I’d start slow. Simply trailing my fingers over your body to get you accustomed to the faintest of my touch. Maybe I’ll blindfold you, too. If you let me, of course. I hear dulling certain senses can make others that much more sensitive… Regardless, I’d make sure to treat you right, and I wouldn’t be done until you’re a trembling, moaning, blissful mess.

I want you to scream my name, and my name only. After all, it’s going to be the only thing you’ll be able to remember.

I’ve smelt you, too. You’re not subtle. I know when you get turned on. I’m beginning to recognize all those little telltale signs that alert me to your every need, and then I watch you carefully when I emulate those same stimuli that turn you on. It makes me so happy when I see those plush thighs of yours squeeze together from something I’ve insinuated. It lets me know everything that I need to. Everything important.

It’s working.

God, I want to feel you around me. I want to feel your naked body pressing against mine. I want your legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer with every thrust I give into that tight little wet cunt of yours. I want your nails raking down my back and drawing blood, claiming me as yours in every primal way you know how. I want all of this, and so much more as your velvet walls spasm around my dick from another earth shattering orgasm only I could give to you.

My body is yours. It’s only fair that I offer it all to you.

You make me so desperate, Baby. I can hardly ever think straight when you’re around. Half of the time, I’m overcome by the need to make you mine in every way possible, and the other half I’m dreaming about our future together.

That’s just it, isn’t it?

Our future.

Us.

Together.

No one else.

I am made for you, Baby, and you are meant to be mine.

Mine, and only mine.

Oh, where should I put my claim on you?

I wonder…

Your neck? It’s always been begging for me to mark it; to rub my scent all over it and let everyone know that you’re mine and I’m yours.

Hmmm, or perhaps your thighs? The tender flesh has always tempted me beyond belief. I’d love to toss them over my shoulders and just drown in that dripping cunt of yours, but perhaps some other time…

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me, spending hours worshipping every part of your body that you’ve always wanted someone to please. I’m not lying when I say I could get lost in you.

Maybe, I’ll bite my mark on that soft stomach of yours. Maybe then you’ll start showing it off more for me to admire.

Then again, I don’t want anyone seeing what should be for my eyes only.

You’ll understand, right? How no one else gets to adore you like I do? How no one else is allowed to admire your ethereal figure, and worship your very being like I will? I’m all for showing you off, and making others jealous of what they can never have, but certain demonstrations from My Goddess are for me, and me alone.

Oh! I know! I’ll put my claim on you just above your collarbone! It’s the perfect area. You can show it off whenever you want, and I can tease you by resting my chin on your shoulder when you don’t. After all, if that were the case, only we would know it’s there. It’s perfect.

Just like you.

I should warn you, though, I do have quite a bit of stamina. Of course, I’ll cater to your every need, but I might have to be a little selfish, too. Selfish in the way - the best way - when I say that you make me insatiable.

I bet your moans sound so cute. I want to know what you sound like when you whine for me, when you’re begging me to please you in all of the ways I’ve only dreamed of. I want to make you come with a smile on your face, pleading for me not to stop. To never stop.

I wouldn’t. Not in a million years.

I will say though, that yes, I am an eager lover, but I also never want you to be uncomfortable. I’d take care of you in every and any way I know how, using whatever means necessary. Always.

You’d never have to worry about anything. Not while I’m here to take care of you. Besides, a little birdie told me that you rather enjoy knowing your lover gets off to the thought of you. I’m always ready and willing to put on a show just for you.

Only for you.

Fuck, I could tell you about what I’m doing right now. What I always do when I think about you. Then, maybe, you’d be compelled to replace my hand with your own, teasing me even further while taking care of me like I’ve always fantasize about. It’d be the perfect mixture of passion and condescension. A thought I’ve always been into, but only with you.

God, I want you so badly, Baby. I wish you were here, letting me fuck you raw instead of me desperately fucking into my hand longing for the warmth of your pussy. Or maybe, you’d want to fuck me. Whatever the case, I’m all for it. Maybe then my teeth would be sinking into your own flesh and claiming you as my own instead of this stupid scarf.

It’s not enough. It will never be enough.

But what can I say?

You’re just that intoxicating.

#yandere jeongin #yandere stray kids #yandere i.n.#yandere kpop #jeongin scenarios #jeongin smut #i.n smut #i.n scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids scenario #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #chubby reader #hybrid au

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ineffably-smote · 4 months

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Macbeth, David Tennant - A very subjective, spoiler and emotion filled review

Just walking out of seing Macbeth at the Donmar and I have Feelings. Unsurprisingly, I primarily went to see it because David Tennant was in it. I love the play, big fan of Shakespeare but the trip to London was most certainly motivated by a very specific actor. Hence the highly subjective review. Fortunately, I also happen to quite like Macbeth. We studied it at school, and it holds a special place in my heart (back then, Hamlet was my favourite Shakespeare play but honestly, after tonight, I’m not so sure anymore. Anyway, I digress). It was my first time actually seeing an actor I’m a fan of in real life, so obviously the entire time my brain was just going oh my god that’s David Tennant oh my god that’s David Tennant like I actually could not comprehend it. The man I’ve spent hours staring at on a little screen is suddenly real, and right there. So yeah, that took me a hot second.

(Excuse the piss poor image quality, I took this with shaky hands without looking or bothering to focus the cam)

The Staging

Still starstruck and a bit dazed, one thing really really stood out to me: the staging. It was so, so good. I knew it was going to be minimal from the pictures I had seen, and it was, but it was also so insanely real. There were barely any decorations, and half the cast and the musicians were hidden behind a glass screen doing background noises and gestures. From where I was sitting I could not see them much, but could definitely hear them which added to the overall atmosphere. The stage was also really tiny, and the play benefitted incredibly from it. All the action was happening in one tight space that had been put to use incredibly well, particularly the banquet scene but I’ll come back to that because it deserves its own paragraph.

The way they chose to do the soliloquies was so fitting - all the actors start to move in slow motion - everyone else slowing down and just the characters speaking moving was so good, it made sense.

The Headphones

I’m a bit mixed about the headphones. They were amazing for the vibes, we could hear whispers and they really heightened some of the emotional speeches in the play - because when someone is struggling with guilt and trauma it makes sense for them to be mumbling rather than yelling. So that was really great. However, especially in the scenes where the actors where yelling/ loud I preferred to take them off a bit cause it felt more real that way. I’m so used to hearing actors voice on recordings, it does hit different when you can hear them for real. But, as I said, personal preference and that’s what’s nice, you can take them on and off as much as you want.

Famous Speeches

There were three speeches I was quite interested to see how they were going to be adapted - scorpions and dagger for Macbeth, and out damned spot for Lady Macbeth. These are classic, everyone knows the words, the plot but they managed to make it feel real in a new and touching way. I think here the headphones were quite helpful because they allowed the actors to actually whisper parts of those lines. They were so subtle, so embedded in the text they felt so natural which imbued them with all their power. I saw in a review Cush Jumbo’s out damned spot speech be described as “haunting”, and I wholeheartedly agree.

The Macbeths

I didn’t like Macbeth, the character, very much when I first learnt about him. His actions didn’t make sense to me, I couldn’t quite comprehend in my 21st century little brain how he went from I’m super loyal to the King to I will freely murder children for shits and giggles. But now, now I understand. It makes sense, it’s believable. And that’s a mix of the acting choices and teh overall setting. Like the opening scene, instead of presenting Macbeth as a glorious hero, he is presented to us as a traumatised hero. He spends the first few minutes washing the blood of his clothes, haunted by noises from the battlefield. And that sets the themes quite nicely, not ambition, as Tennant specified in an interview, but guilt and trauma. There are so many ways to interpret Shakespeare, that’s the beauty of it, and I think this version of Macbeth just resonated more with me (maybe because ambition I don’t quite understand but guilt I am intimately familiar with? Or maybe because it was David Tennant? I don’t know, probably a bit of both). Tennant delivers a convincing Macbeth. Yes, you can see his ambitions play out, but also his fears, his guilt, and that makes him into a complex three dimensional character that you want to understand.

And I absolutely loved this version of Lady Macbeth. Not just a powerful woman who bullies her husband into become an evil murderer (because again, here we can see traces of that in Macbeth from the start), but an ambition woman in love, with her husband, with power, and not quite healed from the trauma of loosing her child. Again another review said she is more of an enabler than a manipulator and I quite liked that description.

My Favourite Scenes

God the banquet scene. The one with the ghost of Banquo. An absolute masterpiece. I did not expect that scene to hit that hard. It was raw, it was powerful and even if Tennant was facing away from where I was sitting, even without seeing his face I could feel the emotion, the whole audience could. In a video essay on Tennant, @davidtennantgenderenvy highlighted how in almost every role he played, there is it is the classic Tennant breakdown moment, and breakdown moment it was. Not with tears, not as expressive as he sometime is but just enough for a King trying to hold it together but fear and guilt breaking through. I was absolutely overwhelmed and it was beautiful. The set up for the scene was amazing too - there were ceilidh, celebrations, I adored the contrast between these fast pasted scenes and guilt ridden whispers of the couple. And the way everyone sat down around the stage and suddenly it looked like a banquet table ? Just perfect.

Another really cool moment, less on the emotional side but more on the visuals was when Macbeth goes to get the second prophecy from the witches. Almost the whole cast is there, running around, moving, almost dancing and it gives the whole thing a mystical atmosphere. There’s smoke, Macbeth falls, is carried up high Jesus style, cowers, rises, it’s so busy and insane all the while there are whispers and whispers in the headphones - it manages perfectly to feel like a mystical moment.

Descent Into Madness & other cool things

For Macbeth, having the kid running around scene after scene, haunting him, and then scene where he kills him - GOD it’s powerful. Lady Macbeth’s descent into madness was so well characterised, I also loved the glass on the background that locked away some of the cast. Just wild. The actor that played Malcom actor was also really cool, and Macduff and Ross, big fan of all of them.

Overall I am overwhelmed with emotions. Tennant is truly one of my favourite actors - from Good Omens to Staged, Jessica Jones, even Harry Potter but also Mad to be Normal, Nativty, There She Goes, Around the World in 80 days, Doctor Who (god I’ve started a list, never start lists cause you’ll forget people) and so, so many more, I was truly beside myself with excitement and expectations for tonight. And it did not disappoint. I do not want to leave the theatre and I pray they release a recording of this because I want it imprinted on my soul.

(Side note: I don’t know how to use tumblr very well, for some reason whenever I try to reply to ppl it posts from my other blog? Anyway @raquel-and-sergio is in fact me)

#david tennant #Macbeth #donmar macbeth #review #sort of #more like therapeutic ranting for me #because i love this Scottish man so much #and i dont want this moment to be over yet #or ever for that matter #good omens #tenth doctor #fourteenth doctor

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svngiem-remade · 1 year

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strength kink w/ changbin is driving me insane! the thought of him being completely (not at all) oblivious to the way you react when he uses his muscles in any given circumstance, he likes seeing you practically DROOLING over how big and strong he is. you just want him to slam you up against the wall with his hand wrapped around your throat and split you open in the BEST ways possible UGH I’M RAMBLING

[8:27 pm]

a lil' something for y'all, prepare yourselves 'cause there's more 🤭

contains. dom!changbin / sub!afab!reader, lots of smut, unclear relationship, strength kink, slight size kink, pet names, chocking, wall sex. | wc. 1025

You'd caught yourself drooling over Changbin's muscles more times than you could count, and, unbeknownst to you, he'd noticed.

Changbin just loved seeing how you shifted in your seat and subtly rubbed your thighs whenever he'd drape one of his muscular arms over your shoulders as you watched a movie, or how you’d encouraged him to take off his t-shirt a few weeks prior just to ogle at his sweaty pecs and muscly arms moving your couch and a couple of heavy boxes around your apartment a few weeks prior, or how you always seemed to need help opening a can or jar of whatever when you invited him over for lunch or dinner, his eyes never missing the way you licked your lips and hungrily stared at his biceps, which he flexed for no real reason other than to give you the show you were clearly looking for.

“Here, darling.” he said with a not so subtle smirk on his face, handing you the jar of cookies he knew you could've easily opened yourself.

Blinking rapidly as you shifted your focus on the jar and took it in your hands, you mumbled a quiet “thank you, Binnie.” trying to ignore the heat quickly spreading all over your body by taking a step back and walking towards the kitchen to continue cooking, wiping away with your sleeve the small dribble of drool at the corner of your mouth.

However, you hadn't realized you'd never even moved from your spot between his open legs or that he'd gone back to scrolling on his phone as he manspread comfortably on your small loveseat until he'd cleared his throat, “Something wrong, darling?” he asked, placing his phone down on one of the cushions to rest his hot palm on the back of your bare knee, looking up at you with a seemingly innocent look, “You seem—”

“I'm okay! I'll just— I'll finish up dinner!” you interrupted him, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment and arousal, gripping tightly the glass jar in your hands as you ran into the kitchen as quickly as possible.

You slammed the cookies on the table and walked towards the stove, stirring the pasta you and Changbin had made together in the afternoon— which was just another ploy for you to stare at him as he roughly rolled and stretched the dough on the counter, his low sighs and grunts making you wish he'd ditch the dough and stretch you ins— “Oh my God, I'm such a fucking perv!” you muttered angrily, munching on a chocolate chip biscuit as you felt your panties sticking to your drenched folds, which made you squeeze your thighs uncomfortably.

Suddenly, two arms engulfed you in an embrace from behind, Changbin's hand swiftly going underneath the big t-shirt you were wearing, the other turning off the stove in front of you before he roughly flipped you around and squished your cheeks with one hand, “What—” you tried saying, but a clench of his jaw and a squeeze of your cheeks shut you up. It hurt, but you loved that.

“Just giving you what you've been begging me for for weeks, darling.” he lowly said, his mouth barely an inch away from yours before smashing it against your lips, involving them in a wet, messy kiss, the hand he’d hid under your t-shirt slid out and ruggedly circled your neck, squeezing it once as he slammed you against the wall, causing a needy whine to leave your lips. “Mh, my pretty little thing that likes being thrown around like a fuckdoll is so desperate for cock.” he whispered in your ear, rutting his bulge against your panties, which were so drenched they soaked his own sweatpants in seconds.

You moaned, “M-More, Binnie. Please-” you ground your heat against his twitching crotch breathlessly, his grip on your neck getting tighter by the minute while his other hand clutched your thigh so tightly you knew it was going to leave a mark, but you didn’t mind- you loved it when he showed off how big and strong he was, how small he made you feel compared to him, like he could snap you in half whenever he wanted.

“More?” he chuckled, still rutting his sex against yours, a few of them targeting precisely your throbbing clit, which made you moan and roll your eyes at the back of your head each time. “Beg for it.” he squeezed your neck, tipping your head up to look into his eyes, yours being wide open at his request, “What? You’ve been eye-fucking me for this long, can’t I ask you to beg a little to have my cock split your pussy open, hm?” he smirked when you let out a low set of moans as he started dipping his fingertips inside your cunt- the desperation and layer of tears in your eyes letting him know you’d comply without too much of a fuss.

“Please, please, please, Binnie, please! I need you to fuck me, ple-” you chocked out, your hands clawing at his biceps desperately, feeling tears of pleasure run down your cheeks when he suddenly let his cock out and slammed it inside your hole, the fullness you felt made you whine and rest the back of your head on the wall Changbin held you against, it banging with every harsh, slow thrust. “Faster, please-” you begged, your bottom lip trembling and your chest heaving up and down as you ran your hands on his arms, pecs and shoulders, the layer of sweat and their sturdiness causing you to clench around him.

Your eyes, which you’d previously closed, shot open when he yanked you closer to his face by the neck he was still circling, the sound of the languid but rough thrusts of his cock inside your cunt making you shudder and bite back a moan to listen carefully to whatever he was about to say, his dark eyes looking deeply into yours, and his low grumbles reverberating on your lower stomach as Changbin gradually quickened his pace rapidly making you see stars, “Be careful what you wish for, doll. I’m very generous…”

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

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Hockey wanda thoughts I cant stop thinking about

1: first off is wanda a local hockey player or if she a pro? In any case imagine yn going to one of her games, wearing her team logo painted on her cheeks, wearing one of wanda's hockey shirts and having made a sign about how she's rooting for wanda, like wanda's number and 'is my beefy girlfriend' or something like that and wanda is just showing off and blows kisses at yn. And when she scores she gives yn a look. Which reminds yn or wanda's bedroom eyes lol

Oh my god yn asking for wanda's autograph and pointing at her chest lol

2: how can we NOT think about yn going to the gym with Wanda, and 'helping' wanda in her workout, for example if wanda is doing pushup, yn is sitting on wanda's back and counting while watching and stroking wanda's back muscles. Imagine yn being underneath while she's doing them snfndjejd or watching wanda as she's lifting weights and encouraging her to grab heavier ones. Yn def not thinking about wanting to lick the sweat that's coming off wanda. I can't think atm but there must be other exercises that yn could tease wanda during. It all ends with Wanda def railing her afterwards

3: please please pleassseee we call hockey wanda daddy, I dont care she is def daddy and once wanda gets a strap and uses it on her she gets a breeding kink ;)

1. I actually want to say she went pro, because at least that’s what I imagine. She’s not like insanely famous or anything like that but she did make it pro. And oh definitely reader is showing up to her games to cheer her on, r’s her biggest supporter. In the storyline I did make reader’s personality to be a bit reserved so r may not make it say anything crazy (unless dared to), but she makes signs for her games often—I’d bet 70% of them have a hidden meaning that only the two of them know—hence why wanda gives bedroom eyes. reader would ABSOLUTELY ask wanda to like “sign her chest.” It’s like after a game, r’s trailing behind wanda and her team, and uses it as a way to be funny/show support—BUT wanda actually ends up doing it later but with hickeys (I’m definitely taking this idea)

2. for sureee, r is not able to focus at the gym. The thing about r is that r’s freaky, which is why wanda is with r—they’re both insanely freaky, that’s my hc. reader would absolutely go to the gym for the main purpose of watching wanda workout—muscles, sweat, her little sounds when she’s working out. Yeah I can bet half the time they leave that gym—they’re fucking (if they leave the gym bc sometimessss they go at it there). Again, r’s a bit reserved and not as forward as wanda is, but r will be a tease FOR SURE—just in a more subtle way that makes wanda call r a, “little minx/shit.” R will sit on wanda’s back, or trail a finger down her arm when she’s doing curls, etc.

3. hockey player/coach wanda has a daddy kink confirmed. if r calls her that in bed, r can fully expect to have a limp the next day. DONT EVEN GET HER STARTED ON A BREEDING KINK—wanda has such a love for kids she’d absolutely love r being pregnant

—> masterlist

#wandasfifthwife | xxxtwilightaxelxxx #hockey player!wanda #hockey coach!wanda #coach!wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #dom wanda #top wanda #wanda x afab!reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel wanda maximoff #marvel wanda #daddy wanda

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zyrlovesmizu · 2 months

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y’know I respect a fan’s choice about how they want to view mizu but tiny ramble about it here. this isn’t any sort of discussion or ‘matter of fact’ essay, just a simple rant about headcannons about her being TRANS and her SEXUALITY.

Warning: extremely long.

Given the numerous limitations that would arise from traveling as a woman, I find it very difficult to understand why some people believe Mizu is transgender when it's obvious that she is hiding this information in order to survive. This was particularly true during the Edo period, when women were dehumanized and treated like objects because we only ever see them as a slave or working in a brothel (majority of the show at least). They were also seen having to depend on men for nearly everything, as demonstrated in the episode where the mother and daughter were left outside to freeze to death since her husband was not present to accompany them. Along with that subtle hints were presented to us that show how comfortable she is when in touch with her femininity like a few moments in the episode where she came back to Swords-father Eiji’s hut. Though, I can definitely see why people would label her as transmasc with the theory that she must’ve grown so accustomed to this sort of lifestyle, she’d perhaps just become transmasc in the later episodes. We’ll never know!

Next, not gonna lie, I’m insanely guilty of viewing Mizu as a bisexual women despite feeling that she is leaning more toward heterosexuality in terms of her sexuality. I have the biggest fattest crush on her so I have no problem stating how much I'm crying and wailing over this. Like c’mon, let's be real, I guarantee that 98% of simps are female, and I’m sure every single one of us has mentioned once that we can all treat her better than Mikio and Taigen. Speaking of Taigen, I HAVE to admit that him and Mizu do have the best chemistry compared to everyone in the show. It’s clear in the way she pulls him away from those shooting arrows, knocks him out becahse she fears for his safety if he follows, saving him from Fowler's castle even though she could have easily just left him to die and slain Fowler, etc. At first, I would’ve assumed she’d have trauma with men especially after Mikio’s betrayal which might’ve led her to stray away from any romantic attraction with men—or anybody in general. Honestly, I have dedicated my time to search for ANY hint (ok not rlly) that she might be attracted to women, but the only time I ever see her become flustered by one is when she appears to be taken aback by the prostitues she tried to ask for directions to the Shindo Dojo. Plus, there were only two occasions where she interacted with Akemi that people use to automatically ship them which is when she saw Akemi in her carriage (not sure of the specific name) and pinned her down in Madame Kaji's brothel. I can’t imagine them as a couple in later episodes, something I’m been dying to see. Though, it’s hard to determine what was running in her mind during the scene where they both stole glances at each other, especially since there was no sort of indication in her inner thoughts or emotions, so it’s normal to assume the above as well. (Despite that, I’m still rooting for AT LEAST bisexual Mizu because for the love of god and for the sake of all of the gay women here, PLEASE. /j)

I may make jokes about these headcannons like playfully hating on the TaiMizu ships. All in all, I’m sure the fans are mature enough to understand that these are meant to be lighthearted jokes and that people interpret a character and show in various ways and it’s normal! Even if I can’t comprehend the theory or feel as though it is a little too complicated/really negotiable, remember to support what you want, ship what you want, make whatever headcannons, nobody’s stopping you! Don’t be too afraid to just announce what you feel about the show. All I ask is to avoid SERIOUSLY cancelling someone just because of their own feelings and opinions. In the end, they’re stilll fictional characters (😞😞) who have no sort of physical form of any sort so do whatever, as long as it isn’t really THAT problematic in a sense (e.g. romanticising rape), go for it.

(Sorry for bringing her sexuality into this, I’m aware of how the show is definitely not centering on this and not every single thing has to be LGBTQ-related but I noice it’s something constantly brought up in the fandom. As someone whose phrasing and essay writing skills suck, I’m still learning bit by bit about how the world works in terms of differing views on things. I may not support your idea of a character but I RESPECT it! If I came off as rude, I’m sorry, remember it’s just my random midnight thoughts🙏)

#mizu blue eye samurai #bes mizu #blue eyed samurai #mizu #tumblr fyp #taigen #taigen blue eye samurai #akemi blue eye samurai #headcannons #akemi #transgender #sexuality #rants n rambles #late night rambles #lgbtq #random rants #might get cancelled #tumbler explore page #explore

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kitkatscabinet · 1 year

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I wanna get close to you, you are my dream come true

Aemond Targaryen x f! reader

Summary: Aemond Targaryen wasn't exactly what many considered to be an eligible bachelor, handsome yes, but still terrifying and slightly insane. That matters little to you though, from the moment you see him for the first time Aemond is all that you want, even if he wasn't so receptive.

Genre: fluff, reader needs to get a hobby that isn't related to Aemond

Word count: idk wrote this on my phone cause I’m camping

A/N: rushed ending, unedited

From the moment you had laid eyes on Aemond Targaryen you knew there would never be another. It wasn't quite love at first sight, you weren't so naive as to think his personality was guaranteed to be as pretty as his face, but it might have been something close.

Silently you cursed the gods for having to take Laena away in order for you to meet the boy. You cursed them even harder in the aftermath of a grieving children's squabble turned deadly. Especially after your first, and what you feared would be your last conversation with him. He had been adorably shy, evidently not used to the attention, cheeks flushing the prettiest pink. You had beamed at the boy, trading quips back and forth in Valyrian at your behest and patiently corrected any mispronunciation. You screamed and raged at the gods for their cruelty, condemning you to long for a boy that would eternally associate you with one of the people that had cost him an eye.

As you bid him farewell, there had been a guarded hostility in his eye and your heart shattered for the young boy. Determination had flooded your veins, giving you the courage to quickly lean in and gently kiss the skin under his newly lost eye. A laugh of delight escaped as you witnessed his skin flush that pretty pink again. Looking back on it, that had been when you'd decided to fully dedicate yourself to making Aemond yours.

Your efforts were, however, continuously thwarted by your presence on Driftmark. As Baela's lady-in-waiting you had stayed by her side when her sister and father returned to Dragonstone, which in turn of course thwarted any plans to see Aemond. You had no reason to visit King's Landing and he certainly had no business that would send him to the Velaryon's.

You were nothing if not determined though, and spent many an hour writing to the boy you were determined to court. He never responds, that did nothing to deter you. Not even when two months after your initial letter he sends you a single word. Stop. His irritation only fuelling your fervour, because if he was telling you to stop then surely he'd read your previous letters.

You had even taken to writing his parents, at the subtle but amused behest of Princess Rhaenys. King Viserys seemed delighted at the prospect, entertaining your responses in a way that slightly saddened you. Even the king was lonely it seemed.

Queen Alicent had been slightly more hesitant, though your persistent nature paired with her innate longing for a close relationship with a daughter slowly won her over.

His family has gone insane. That's the only possible explanation Aemond can muster up for the sudden madness that has overtaken them. His head is still reeling from the conversation he had with his father. A conversation the man had called him for, a conversation surrounding you. The insufferable girl that simply would not leave him be, pestering him with letter after letter even when he demanded you stop.

Even his own mother and sister have apparently fallen prey to your cunning deceptions. It's like the gods have cursed him, his every waking thought and conversation somehow circles back to you.

He firmly pushes down the small voice, that sounds alarmingly like Aegon, whispering that he simply didn't have to read her letters. Nor does he let himself admit they have slowly become the highlight of his days. This is what he tells himself as he finally replies, he's only doing so because his parents ordered him, there is no other reason.

Over the next six years you see Aemond twice, the moments are fleeting and not nearly enough, but you fall in love a little bit more all the same.

The third time you see him is a grim affair, one that ends with blood splattering against your face and the floor as Vaemond Velaryon is struck down by a wroth-filled Daemon. Your eyes gravitate towards Aemond, only to be struck slightly giddy as you realise he is already looking your way. There is something distinctly heavy in his gaze that forces your breath to catch in your throat as your fingers clench against your skirts. Unfortunately, Baela has come to know you better than you know yourself and drags you away to get clean before you can even take a step towards him.

From the moment you enter the throne room Aemond is unable to tear his eye away from your form. Your face is pulled into a tight scowl making your displeasure at Vaemond Velaryon well known to all. Even so, Aemond’s heart lurches against his chest painfully as if attempting to reach your side itself. To wax lyrical on the beauty you have become, to demand you return his mind to him.

Six years have passed slowly, but even though he has only made your acquaintance in person three times his mind is made up. He is going to marry you.

You who had been an annoying thorn in his side with your insistent letters. The girl, the woman that had refused to give up even when he had been less than amicable. The girl that had never shied away, had accepted him as he was physically and emotionally.

Six years have passed of back and forth letters, and somewhere along the way he has fallen in love. If asked he wouldn’t be able to say for sure when it had happened. Maybe it had been when you’d refused to give up, sending him book recommendations and silly anecdotes of your day. Perhaps it had been when you’d first opened up about your feeling of inadequacy as lady Laena’s friend. Though, deep down he knows that it had been from the moment you’d pressed you lips against the skin of his cheek. The soft sensation later causing tears to spring to his eye at the care you had taken. The lack of disgust you had shown for his newly hideous and disfigured face.

He thinks his soul knows yours better than his own at this point. Though as he watches you stand tall even as your skin is covered in scarlet liquid he knows that it cannot possibly be a bad thing.

Watching your back as Baela pulls you away he waits until you are completely out of sight before his own feet start to move. He couldn’t care less if his father needed to rest, an audience was needed before supper.

You aren’t entirely sure why you’ve been invited to the family feast but Princess Rhaenyra had insisted, a wicked gleam in her eyes. You had entered the room on Baela’s arm, dressed in one of the most magnificent gowns you’d ever seen, only to be immediately seated next to the prince that had held your affections for years.

Had this been any other occasion you likely would have been vibrating in excitement but there is a certain tension in the air that causes your muscles to clench. However, you quickly realise it isn’t tension from divided factions. In fact, in a miraculous turn of events everyone seemed to be getting along. This observation did not ease your nerves, for along with it came the realisation that you were receiving sideways glances and smirks from most parties.

Just before you can speak up the king is raising a toast and you are forced to attention. It isn’t until halfway through his speech that you realise Aemond has been staring at you intently the entire time. The kings words fade slightly into the background as you become entranced with his features. His gorgeous violet eye has softened considerably and you almost choke on your spit once you realise he is smiling slightly. Smiling at you, a look you had only imagined over the previous years as a response to your letters.

The sound of your name wrenches your attention back to weirdly jubilant king, his glass raised in your direction. Your eyes have widened owlishly as you realise you have no idea what has just happened.

Luckily Baela senses you plight and raises her own glass with a smirk before toasting to your new engagement.

“To the newly betrothed” Jace tacks on, pulling cheers from the tables occupants. Your throat dries as your brain tries to process the last few seconds. Multiple sets of eyes have attached themselves to you as if waiting for a reply you do not have. A weight on your hand has you looking down in time to witness Aemond’s long fingers entwining with your own before he is pressing a kiss to the back of your hand with a smirk.

“To my future wife” he raises his own glass, and that is the last thing you see and hear before the world is suddenly pitching backwards and everything goes dark. Though, even through the haze you swear you feel a lithe arm pulling you close to a warm chest just as you succumb.

join my taglist!

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader

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fleetingcalypso · 12 days

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HIIII, if you don't mind me asking!

I have a prompt in mind thanks to a post I saw the other day on Instagram, and I think it's PERFECT for an Henry Winters fic, so here it is!

It is said that the ancient Greeks used the throwing of an apple to propose, and if you accepted the marriage proposal you caught the apple mid air.

Imagine that, after years of friendship and relationship, Henry proposes to y/n by throwing her?them? an apple and they caught it 👀👀👀

I'D LOVE TO HEAR YOUR OPINION

≋ Thank you for being my very first companion in this new beginning. I'll happily indulge you. I can only hope my vision is satisfactory.

≋ Henry Winter x GN!Reader ≋

≋ Word count: around 2,4k words.

≋ TW: Slight misogyny, probable manipulation and toxic relationship, Edmund "Bunny" Corcoran.

Henry Winter is a disease. I took notice the first time I laid my eyes on him. He carries himself as if he is Atlas, mantaining the entire world on his shoulders and as if the it weighs nothing at all. His friend group is not any better, quite frankly: twins, incestuous ones clinging to each other like abandoned pups, a queer young man, with hair as red as the sunset and a mask to put Melpomene and Thalia to shame, an insufferable brat and a clean slate of a man, completely and utterly empty inside, stuck in his fantasy. For some insane reason, I found myself part of this whorehouse as well.

Henry Winter rises above all of them, I fully believe that. The world bends to his will, it always has and it always will. He is the tempestuous sea that grinds down the cliff, he is the wind that bends trees with only a light breeze, Henry Winter in his magnificence is the Sun which the World revolves around.

He stands on the edge of the lake as I see him, towering over the calm surface, trusted book resting in the crook of his elbow and a red apple in his hand. If I squint and let the sun go into my eyes for a moment, I can wholly see him as Zeus, King of the Gods, unshackled by any guilt or any error he might have upon himself, he grips the fruit of sin in his palm, his thumb stroking the skin of it as if it was a lover’s cheek. “Henry,” I call out to the wind and I feel the Heaven I had created in my mind collapse when my voice reaches him. His gaze breaks from the horizon, it sets itself upon my figure, it feels like I’m no longer standing near Francis’ lake house, instead I’m perambulating through the Elysian Fields, at the edge of the world. This man is a disease, he is a drug, and I am but a servant of his world slowly stealing crumbs of what he offers me, becoming an addict before I can realize it.

“You should have stayed back with the others. I’ll be but a minute.” He speaks and it’s a subtle order the one he gives me, but I’ve never been one to follow instructions, even if given by Gods of his caliber. I am unable to move from my spot. It is an impossible task, almost herculean, how could it be anything else when this is one of the very rare moments we can catch, with just us present.

At my insolent inobedience, his lips tilt up into a grin. It is a swift motion as he tosses the apple to me, an even swifter motion as I grab it. And it ends there: Paris has chosen the one to whom the Golden Apple belongs to. He wordlessly approaches me, spins me around, rests his warm hand on the small of my back and guides me back to the house.

A week later, as I’m nursing him back to health after he's found himself victim to a vicious migraine, his kitchen acts as my sanctuary and it isn’t until after ten minutes of pure silence that his house phone rings, on the other side of it none other than Bunny. “How’s Henry?” He asks, and I doubt he is looking for an honest answer, “He’s resting,” I reply, hoping he might find some other poor sinner to bother. To my displeasure, he keeps talking, tasking me with the lowly chore of having to listen to him.

“That’s too bad! I’ve been meaning to talk to him about something of the utmost importance,” He professes, his smirk perfectly audible in the tone of his voice.

“I’m sure I can pass along the message, what is it, Bunny?” “Oh, I was just wondering if he could lend me a couple hundred dollars before he begins going mental trying to organize your wedding.” Now, this was one of the most dumbfounding sentences Bunny had ever spoken into existence. Even if it was for a fleeting moment, my mind could not comprehend him: ‘your wedding’ he had said, like he expected me to agree as second nature. “My wedding, Bunny?” I sought further information, with not little confusion in my voice, his newly founded dubiety mimicking my feelings.

“Yes? Your wedding. You know, the one Henry proposed to you not so long ago? Have you really forgotten?” His ‘know-it-all’ tone doesn’t do much to help me find what grain of peace of mind I have lost. “No, Bunny. Henry did not propose to me, you must be mistaken. We are not engaged, whatever you are drinking is doing you more harm than good.”

“Ah, but I’m as sober as a stone carving, dearest friend,” and there it is again, the mockery that so perfectly encapsulates what Edmund ‘Bunny’ Corcoran is. If Henry is a disease, then Bunny is the plague itself. “And I am not mistaken, I don’t know what the point of acting secretively is now that we all know about your engagement. You’re acting ridiculous.”

For once in my life, I find Bunny’s words interesting, and for as much as I would love for it to be reality, I know an engagement with Henry never occurred. Lest I was too inebriated to properly recall it.

“I for one,” he keeps talking, much to my dismay when I see Henry staggering into the room, “Would be heartbroken if my Marion were to forget a romantic proposal such as the one you experienced. Ah! I can feel it shattering already, my poor heart.”

“Bunny, I have to go.”

“Wait! What about the mon-” I’m quick to interrupt him by hanging up. With time it’s become almost an artstyle: ignoring Bunny’s requests this way is something not even Henry himself is able to do.

My fingers are still tightly wrapped around the handset, the only noise I hear is Henry’s rugged breathing as he struggles to keep himself upright. Such a prideful man, bested by a migraine. Were I not caught up in an internal turmoil I would have precipitously scrambled by his side, wrapped my arm around his body and guided him to his armchair, but now? Now I watch him, and he watches me. His eyes are like a hawk’s, they pierce right through me.

He hasn’t heard what Bunny said, I know it, I’m certain of it. Then, why is it that I feel like in front of me is not a man, but judge, jury and executioner. He’s waiting for me to do anything, my Achilles’ heel is waiting, standing right in front of me and it seems unsure of what to do: to mercilessly bore himself through me as a spear does to an enemy soldier or to let me make the first step into the battlefield unharmed.

“Bunny called.” My voice is unrecognizable to me, his hum is enough for me to keep talking, “He is often unruly, foolish and to be completely honest unbearable. One can always expect to be mocked when in his presence,” Why I find myself detailing our friend’s manners is unclear, perhaps I am searching for a grain of context where I can find only unsureness, “But he said something peculiar today, to my surprise. Something I find myself clinging on. It was but a short-lived conversation, yet, it flooded my mind with ‘what-ifs’.”

“Even Bunny has his moments.” His attempt at a joke is but a mere flicker of light humor, a fickle attempt to avoid this situation we are both stuck in. Knowing him, Henry right now would love nothing more than a glass of whiskey and for me to start working on his dinner. So I do. A sigh abandons my lips as I move to the kitchen, and before I know it I’ve abandoned the subject at hand, focusing instead on the sound of the bottom of his glass makes as it makes contact with the wooden table.

Henry, my gentle savior, pops me out of my bubble with just a few words. “I have yet to properly thank you for taking care of me this way.” I feel he wants to say more so I don’t interrupt and as expected my transcendental divinity blesses me with his voice once again, “My kitchen feels right with you in it, there’s a dent in the place you always occupy on the couch, for some reason I can’t bring myself to fluff it out.” A beat passes, “My bed feels warmer with you in it.”

Nights with him weren’t all that rare, but they also weren’t a regular occurrence. I know I’m not the only one to have seen Henry in his most intimate moments, the sheer passion we have shared wasn’t one that he kept locked away just for me. He is a giver, at heart. His heart, although cold and behind bars, has a need to give, all the time. I fear he thinks that if he does not give, then he has nothing himself.

“Are you saying I should move in with you?” I ask, the spoon I’m using to stir his dinner almost abandons my hands to fall into the pot. He is easier to read than he thinks, or maybe I am a fool with a crooked halo.

“I feel it is only proper.” His presence behind me is noticeable only when his arms wrap around me, his chest presses against my back and I delude myself this is a display of affection for an invisible audience, I mislead myself into imagining we are in a house full of people gazing at us with a soft smile on their faces, being participants of what could be our affection for each other. I know better. From the way his arms twitch, my beloved Henry is only using me as a crutch to make sure I am not burning his food.

“Is it?” The ability to form sentences seems to have fled my mind, “And why is that? Simply because I nurse you back to health?”

“I won’t lie and say that’s not part of why I want you here. I would have thought you had understood by now.”

Maybe I don’t know Henry as well as I do, because his words strike me with each syllable. “What Bunny said, he said something about a wedding. My wedding, your wedding, our wedding.”

And just like that the bandaid comes off. And a response never comes. His hair tickles my neck and the cold rim of his glasses sends goosebumps down my neck when he nuzzles his face in my shoulder. Now I’m sure I don’t know him at all.

“Our wedding.” He finally breaks the silence when he notices the spoon inevitably fell into the pot. I hear his soft whisper directly into my ear.

As my head turns to try and find his gaze, my eye falls onto the basket of apples set on the counter. Red ones, like the ones near the lake house. Red, the color of love, of passion and of blood. It ties together the two most gruesome things in human history, a pair that cannot be undone not even by divine intervention: Love and Murder.

“I thought you’d be overjoyed to be my bride. Was I wrong?” There’s a challenge in his tone, he wants to be challenged, almost wants me to deny him, but Henry knows. He knows I cannot deny him, ever. I don’t want to deny him.

Now it seems so obvious. Henry must think me a fool for having taken so long, even so, teasing him tastes just like sweet ambrosia and no matter how much I try, part of me cannot be restrained.

“Throwing an apple at a girl to claim her as your bride might have been the fashion back then,” His smirk is pressed into my skin as his lips kiss the spot right under my ear, “But might I have to remind you, Henry, not all of us are as knowledgeable about Ancient Greece's customs as you are. It was such an ephemeral moment it did not seem to have much meaning.”

“I’m offended, I’ll have you know I put quite a lot of thought into it.” His hands rest on my waist as they have done so many times, only now it doesn’t feel as inconspicuous as it used to be. I’m the last one to know, this is a first.

“I doubt aiming a fruit at my face took you much thought.”

“On the contrary, dearest. Were my toss too strong it would have hurt you, and that was not my intention.” His hand is warm, it’s all I can feel when it rests on my cheek, and as he did while holding the apple that day, his thumb strokes my skin. “It was entertaining to see you so oblivious, I have to admit, even if I owe Bunny around two hundred dollars now.”

“What for?”

“He bet everyone that you would not understand what my action meant until someone brought your attention to it.”

“That bastard.”

I have a sneaking feeling a diamond ring will sit on my finger before tomorrow, but for the time being, this is fine. Jewelry, accessories have never meant much, it’s just gold, silver, rubies. The way his lips press against mine to muffle my laugh means much more than any diamond ever could. I’ve spent long trying to not fall in love with Henry, and now I’ll spend even longer knowing what being loved by him feels like.

He is my Paris, kidnapping me from my rotten existence to be with him, and unlike Helen I accept this fate. Unlike Helen, I love my abductor, I love him so much this doesn’t even feel like a transgression. Henry holds my heart in his hands, as he did that apple, and it is his choice to chuck it as far as he can or to gently place it in a basket in his home. For the time being, he is being as generous as to handle me with nothing but love and care. If our story is to be narrated, like a Greek myth, like a victorious hymn, let it be forever like this, while we hold each other in our kitchen, exchanging the first kisses of our real, unmasked love.

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