#mari writes
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Take Care Of My Girl
pairing - mattheo riddle x fem!reader x lorenzo berkshire
warnings - cursing, smut, unprotected p in v, unprotected anal, threesome, some cringey dirty talk, MINORS DNI || 18+
wordcount - 2.7k
a/n - I just saw that I reached 1.000 followers that's insane! I wanna thank every single one of you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and following little old me, it really means so much to me <3 to celebrate I finally pushed myself to finish this, I hope you like it <3
You should not have played with him this morning. But dressed in a pretty short black dress and feeling on top of the world with your hair falling down your back in perfect silky locks, you saw your chance to rile him up.
Knowing that you only had a couple of minutes left before you had to leave for the annual ball hosted by the Berkshire’s at the end of every summer, you grasped at the opportunity to tease your boyfriend.
He looked like a dream in his black suit and emerald collared shirt, hair tousled perfectly.
Mattheo was fixing his tie in front of the wide gold-rimmed mirror in his bedroom when you re-emerged from the bathroom after putting the finishing touches on your make-up.
Pressing your chest against his back, you snaked your arms around his middle, your palms rubbing along the edge of his slacks, middle and pointer finger sliding inside the tight-fitting material to play with the hem of his boxers.
One of your hands strayed from its path to slide up over his chest, soothing some of the tension from his tight muscles.
He finished fixing his tie as you scattered slow kisses along his shoulder blades, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror when your fingers found their way into his underwear.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he quipped, the corner of his lip quirking up as he studied the way you batted your lashes. He was fully aware you were up to something.
Cheek squished against his arm, you pushed your lips into a pout. “I need you, Matty.”
You did not miss the mischievous glint in his stare. It was never hard to rile him up, at least it wasn’t hard for you.
One of his hands found its place on your wrist, stopping your hand from sliding down even further. “What exactly do you need from me, baby?”
Pushing up onto your toes to nip at his ear, you made sure to let your breath hit the spot behind his ear. His weak spot, the spot that could make him melt beneath you if you targeted it just right.
“I need your cock.”
Through the mirror, you watched him bite down on his lower lip. He started pushing your hand closer to their destination, speaking in a low voice. “Why don’t you go ahead and show me just how needy you are?”
You happily obliged, sliding a hand over his length, relishing in the sound of the small gasp leaving his lips. One of his hands reached behind him, grasping your ass and pulling you even closer against his chest.
Slowly stroking him, you watched his face in the mirror, waiting for the moment he closed his eyes and leaned his head back before pulling your hand away and leaving a quick, teasing slap on his backside.
His eyes flew back open, finding yours with a confused expression. Sending him your cheeriest smile, you went to grab your bag. “Okay, let’s go. We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.”
A knowing smirk made its way onto his face. That was the moment you should have realised he would retaliate, but you were feeling much too good about yourself to notice it.
You made your entrance at the Berkshire manor, greeting whoever Mattheo deemed important enough, and made polite conversation with whoever came up to talk to you. Soon Enzo arrived, and your boyfriend was pulling you along behind him as he followed his friend to the library, happy to get away from the crowd.
You took your place on one of the sofas, your thighs pressing against his as you leaned into him, watching as Enzo threw himself down on the sofa across from you. The boys instantly opened up a discussion on Quidditch, so you took the moment to relax, already exhausted from socialising this much.
At first, you didn't even notice when Mattheo’s hand edged higher and higher up your thigh, but once it finally made its way beneath your dress, you instinctively clenched your legs together. Mattheo was not having it, his grip tightening as he pulled them apart.
You froze in place when his fingertips ghosted along the hem of your panties, checking if Enzo had noticed what he was up to. Thankfully, he was not paying attention to you whatsoever, completely focused on what Mattheo was saying.
There was a hint of desperation in Mattheo’s touch now as he ran his thumb along the top of your panties. You caught his little smirk when he felt the wet patch beneath his finger, rubbing slow circles over your clit.
Your legs opened a bit more, silently asking him to continue despite the feeling of shame washing over you. His touch on your sensitive bud had goosebumps forming all over your body, but you didn’t stop him. Not yet anyway.
Closing your eyes, you thought about his soft lips on your neck and his strong hands on your hips. About his powerful thrusts inside of you, and a new excitement washed over you. By the time he pushed your drenched underwear to the side and slid a finger inside of you, you had completely forgotten there was someone else in the room.
Mattheo began pumping his finger in and out at an agonisingly slow place, his thumb still drawing circles on your clit. You couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips. Grinding your teeth together, you embraced the pleasurable feeling of your oncoming orgasm until you heard a soft groan from the other sofa.
Your eyes snapped open only to meet Enzo’s, staring back at you, his eyes wide. Your cheeks flushed a bright red in embarrassment at being caught, though you felt yourself unwillingly clench around Mattheo's finger.
Your hand went to grab your boyfriend's wrist, trying to withdraw his hand from your core. He responded by pushing a second finger into your tight hole, increasing the pace of his thrusting digits. Another moan tumbled from your mouth when your gaze shifted, dropping down to find Enzo rubbing himself over his pants.
Suddenly everything became too much. Too overwhelming. The pleasure building between your legs was rising quickly, the intensity of Mattheo’s fingers pushing deep into your centre had you moaning louder and louder. Dropping your head back, you clutched at his arm tightly, your nails sure to be leaving marks on his skin.
"Oh, god," you cried out. Mattheo paused, his fingers withdrawing slightly as he looked down at you, his brows furrowed.
Then the corner of his lips curled up before he pulled them out completely, bringing his fingers up to his mouth, tasting your juices. "Mmm...so sweet."
With a whimper, you grabbed at his collar to pull him closer. But before your lips could meet, the door flew open, a familiar head of blonde hair appearing in the doorway.
"Mattheo, come on. My father wants to introduce us to someone," Draco told him, not even waiting for a reply before he was out in the hallway again.
Your jaw dropped when your boyfriend actually stood up, making his way to the door. "Really? You're going to leave me right now?"
He just looked at you with a cheeky grin, before turning to Enzo, making the other boy rush to attempt to cover the bulge in his pants. "Take care of my girl for me while I'm gone?" he said with a wink, pulling the door closed behind him.
Silence fell over the room. All you could hear was the heavy breathing of Enzo and your own erratic breaths. He had placed a pillow on his lap, refusing to meet your eyes, his face still flushed. A newfound boldness took over you at his flustered state and you pushed yourself off your seat, slowly making your way to where he was sitting.
He gulped when you came to a stop in front of him, your thighs brushing against his knees. You caught his eyes raking down your body, halting at your hips where your short dress was still pushed up, your panties clear on display.
Then they lifted up and found yours, full of heat.
"Are you going to?" you asked him in a low voice, almost a whisper. "Are you going to take care of me?"
His hands hesitantly rose to touch the side of your thighs, his touch leaving goosebumps in their path as they travelled up your exposed skin. When they found their destination at your hips, he hooked his fingers under your panties, sliding them down and revealing your soaked core.
He licked his lips, a nervous look crossing his features as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Your hips rocked forward, desperate to pull another groan from him.
Slowly, Enzo brought one hand up to cup your breast, kneading it softly through the thin material of your dress before he leaned in closer, his lips leaving soft kisses along your neck. You let out a shaky breath, grinding down harder against his growing bulge. Pressing his free hand between your legs, his fingertips teasingly brushed along your folds.
A gasp escaped you as you started rocking against him, needy for more. And more he gave. Steadily, Enzo teased your sensitive bud with his talented fingers. His tongue leaving wet trails down your neck, his lips lingering against your ear. "I’ll take really good care of you. I'll make you feel so good," he rasped.
It was like he had flipped a switch, all the tension that had been simmering underneath came pouring out as he captured your lips with his. Two of his fingers pushed into you, pumping in and out at a rapid pace while his other hand pulled down the front of your dress.
Enzo's lips pulled back, quickly attaching themselves back to your skin and trailing down to your exposed breasts. Your head thrown back, the loud moans now tumbled out of you freely. "That's it, love. Let me make you feel good," he mumbled against the soft skin around your nipple, before taking the hardened peak into his mouth.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you moaned loudly, your climax exploding as his teeth grazed over your sensitive nipple, body convulsing around his fingers. Enzo’s finger’s slowed their pace and he pulled you back into another kiss, his tongue running along your lower lip, until you finally collapsed against his chest.
You took a moment to come down from your high before you started sliding your hands down his chest towards the button of his pants. His eyes widened as your fingers made quick work unbuttoning them, one hand slipping under the waistband to stroke him over the material of his underwear.
A sigh left his mouth as your fingers worked on his swollen cock, eager for some release. Enzo groaned out your name, as you pushed the restraining material down,his whole body shuddering with pleasure when you took him into your hand. You smiled smugly as you continued to pump him, his hips thrusting forwards in response.
Pulling his head back by grasping some of his hair, you held his gaze while lowering yourself down onto his tip, relishing in how his hands gripped onto your hips tightly. You started rocking your hips slowly, teasing his tip, sliding it along your folds.
He growled and bucked up against you, his body shaking with the pleasure you were bringing him. Your mouth left open mouthed kisses along his neck , sucking and biting along his sensitive skin. Enzo’s grip tightened on your hips, pulling you impossibly close to himself.
You slid further down and he gasped sharply, his fingers pushing into your skin as he pushed you down, fully driving his erection inside you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you began rocking your hips faster, one of his hands sliding down to find your clit.
He groaned in pleasure as he slammed harder into you, the friction sending sparks through your entire being. Enzo’s breathing was becoming more laboured, each thrust causing him to moan and cry out your name.
The pressure building within you threatened to burst from inside of you, and your toes curled, when you heard the door creak open behind you. Your hips stopped rocking and your hands squeezed Enzo’s shoulder blades. Both of you froze at the sound of footsteps coming closer.
"Oh, don't stop on my account," Mattheo rasped into your ear when he came to a stop behind you. "Come on, keep going."
Your whole body stiffened at his words and your fingers dug deeper into Enzo’s shoulders. Enzo met your eyes, an unsure look on his face and his jaw clenched. Slowly his hips started to rock up again, his movements slower than before.
Enzo’s breathing grew heavier as your hips started moving against him faster. You felt one of Mattheo's hands on your hips, pushing you down to meet Enzo's thrusts, the other coming down to smack your ass.
Mattheo let out a low chuckle at your yelp when his palm met your skin, the noise only fueling your arousal. A loud moan left Enzo’s mouth at your reaction. Mattheo's hand came up to your face, thump running over your bottom lip. "Open up, baby."
You obeyed instantly, opening your mouth to wrap your lips around his finger. You let out a small whine when he pulled it back out, resulting in another slap to your sensitive skin. Then a gasp tumbled from your mouth as he slowly pushed his saliva covered thump against the tight ring of your ass.
"Fucking hell..." Enzo breathed out when he slipped out of you and then slammed back into you again, intently watching your face as Mattheo slowly pushed his finger deeper.
As your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you let out a louder moan, you felt Mattheo bite down on your shoulder, now pumping his finger into your ass in an agonising rhythm. Your whole body arched and shook as you felt your release getting closer with every pump of his finger.
"Are you ready, good girl?" Mattheo nipped at your ear, the warm breath hitting your neck sending a shiver down your spine.
"Yes, please, Matty," you whined, leaning back against his chest as your eyes remained on Enzo's flushed face.
Your boyfriend muttered a quick lubrication charm before throwing his wand on the sofa behind him, replacing his finger with his already leaking tip. Your eyes clenched shut at the pleasurable pain when Mattheo slowly pushed himself into you, rocking into you gently before picking up his pace.
"God...fuck...fuck...yes!" you cried out, grabbing Enzo's biceps tightly, your nails digging in as they both started thrusting into you in sync, your muscles contracting around them. Your body trembled and your vision started fading in and out as your brain grew fuzzy. Everything faded out except the feeling of their bodies pressed against you, their moans filling the room as they pounded into you and you let the orgasm wash over you, Enzo still rubbing shapes into your sensitive bud.
Enzo cried out as he felt you clench around him, his own body tensing as a rush of pleasure rushed through him. He let out another guttural groan as his release followed right behind yours, shooting his seed deep inside you before his hips jerked forward one final time.
Mattheo's thrust soon became even more erratic and sloppy, his body meeting yours with heavy gasps. His teeth sunk back into the skin of your shoulder as he rode out his high. Panting in pleasure, his hands pulled you back against his chest.
You slumped against him, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. Your chest ached as your heart beat frantically against your ribcage. You buried your face into the crook of Enzo's neck for a moment. Then you felt yourself being lifted off of Enzo's lap, Mattheo gently laying you down on the sofa next to the other boy.
Your boyfriend grabbed his wand, non-verbally casting a spell to clean the both of you up before sitting down himself and pulling you up onto his legs, leaving a kiss on your forehead.
"You can go now," he snapped at Enzo, who quickly scrambled to pull his pants back up and leave the room. You let out a soft laugh at his flustered expression, resting your head on Mattheo's chest.
Mattheo leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head, asking with a teasing tone, "Was this what you had in mind this morning?"
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Dichotomy, Part 1
Dichotomy;
noun, plural di·chot·o·mies.:
• something with seemingly contradictory qualities.
Pairing: Ghost x F!reader
Series summary:
Unbeknownst to you, one night you unintentionally catch the eye of Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley. What first starts out as an idle interest quickly devolves into a dark obsession.
Warnings: brief violence (nothing major or graphic, not directed at reader), some sleazy characters with unsavory intentions.
—
It started out with something that seemed so inconsequential at the time.
He'd been at a pub, one of his local stomping grounds when he was on leave. Simon hadn’t even really taken notice of you at first, not even a blip on his radar. You were a wallflower, obviously uncomfortable to be there and just trying to make yourself disappear. You had a girlfriend with you, loud, bubbly, outgoing, obviously the one to convince you to tag along.
He’d taken one look at the both of you, idly noted you both were pretty little things, before shifting his gaze elsewhere and continuing to sip his beer.
As the night progressed he would every so often find his gaze shifting back to the two of you, noting how while you barely touched your first drink, your friend was well on her way to getting sloshed. It was apparent how you tried to advise your friend to slow down, to take it easy, but it did little good. It wasn’t long before others started to take notice of you both as well, thinking they might land an easy lay.
More than one bloke sauntered up to your table, all smarmy and sleazy. You would shrink under the attention, would politely and quietly rebuff the advances. Your friend was less tactful, telling them to get lost, sod off, neither of you were looking for additional company, thank you very much. It led to some profanities being tossed your way (you would flinch, your friend would sneer), but little else came of it as the pursuers moved along to look for easier prey.
It was about as banal and uninteresting as it could be.
But then you surprised Simon.
You finally succeeded in cutting your friend off and convincing her it was time to head home. She was well past drunk and snickered as you came over to help support her weight after paying the tab. It was slow progress as you both made your way to the door, your friend stumbling along in her heels and giggling up a storm. Movement caught Simon's eye and he immediately locked onto another male that was coming to intercept you both on your way to the exit. To anyone not looking for it, they would miss the nasty gleam in his eyes in favor of the charming smile on his face.
Simon recognized that look, knew it meant nothing good for either of you, and considered whether or not it was worth the trouble to get involved. With a long suffering sigh and a grumble under his breath about how he must be going soft, he stood from his table and started to make his way over in case things turned sour.
He watched as the man stepped in front of you both, probably offering his help. Simon could only see the profile of your face as you turned him down, moving to step around him when he intercepted you both again, this time more insistent and smile less friendly.
Simon saw how this man started to reach out for your friend and suddenly it was like a switch flipped in you.
Your eyes narrowed with a fury reserved for mothers protecting their young, lips pulled back in a snarl. All traces of your once meek posture vanished in an instant, spine straightening as you tugged your friend out of reach, shifting to put yourself between the two.
Something in Simon perked up and took notice at the shift.
"Don’t fucking touch her!"
You barked the order at him with all of the force of a seasoned drill sergeant, and you looked ready to tear out the man’s throat with your teeth if he didn’t heed your demand. Interest sparked in Simon's chest, thick and feverish and dark.
Naturally your exclamation drew the attention of several patrons and they turned to look at source of the disturbance, much of the idle background chatter in the pub going quiet. The added attention caused the man to flush, eyes darkening in a glare as he took a step back, hands up and palms out.
Simon saw through the pathetic attempt to appear non-threatening in an instant. He recognized the look of a predator ready to bide their time when he saw one. (As his targets could attest moments before they became a cooling corpse on the ground, Ghost was a beast that excelled in the delayed gratification of a hunt.)
"Christ, fine, no need to fuckin' scream."
Simon watched as you continued to stare the man down as he stepped to the side to let you both pass. Once he was out of the way, you marched your way to the exit while still being mindful of your friend's unsteady gait. Once you passed through the doorway the other patrons returned to their festivities, interruption forgotten. They paid no mind to how the man slowly made his way to the back door you both had just left through, slinking along unnoticed.
But they also failed to notice the wraith that shadowed the would-be predator out into the alleyway.
Ghost caught sight of you two farther down the alley, making your way towards the parking lot, unaware of the male advancing on you both. It took no effort for Ghost to catch up to the man, to slide up behind him and slip one thick arm around his throat in a swift sleeper hold. The man couldn’t even yelp with the force constricting around his throat, the only sound escaping being a hoarse puff of air. Neither of you two took notice, unable to hear the noise over the music playing from at the patio at the front of the pub.
It was almost cute how the man tried to fight his grip, the desperate clawing at his arms growing weaker as the seconds ticked by. Just as the man started to go limp, Ghost released the hold and shifted his grip to slam his victim face fist into the side of the building with a sickening crack. He watched apathetically as the man crumpled to the ground, blood starting to pool onto the concrete from his broken nose. Considering the force of the blow, the man would be lucky if a broken nose and a shattered sinus cavity was all the trauma he suffered.
Once Ghost was certain he wouldn’t be getting back up, he swiftly rummaged through the man's pockets, knowing that while he was in the blind spot of the surveillance cameras, there was no telling when someone would come through the door next. He quickly found the man's wallet, phone, and keys. He left the keys but took all of the cash within the wallet before tossing it on the ground next to the body. Then, upon spotting the watch on the man's wrist, knelt down and pocketed that as well. Satisfied with his handiwork of the staged mugging, Ghost turned and made his way back into the building, with everyone inside none the wiser.
Settling down back at his table, Simon found his thoughts drifting back to you. What had at first started as passing curiosity then a reluctant decision to get involved had quickly evolved into a personal investment on Simon's part. The dichotomy of you was compelling. He knew that the quiet, soft spoken behavior you exhibited earlier wasn’t a ruse, that much was obvious. But that righteous, protective animosity was also just as genuine.
A faint, barely there smile graced Simon's lips. He found himself keen to solve this intriguing new puzzle you posed.
Unfortunately for you.
———
©incogxmari 2024. Please don’t steal, repost, copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works without my permission. I do NOT allow or condone my writing to be used in/for AI under any circumstances.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#mari writes
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Every Action, Crashing Down
Aziraphale had been twisting himself into a panic as he desperately tries to find the right time to break the news to his partner. This was for his safety, this was for the best, wasn’t it?
Crowley has been trying, again and again, to find the right moment, the right words to finally expose what the two of them have been too afraid to admit. Finally, he’s given that chance.
A Good Omens D&D Au take on the final 15 minutes of 2x06. A much happier ending, thankfully.
Read Under The Cut
Aziraphale was at his wits end, it felt like. Like he hasn’t had a chance to properly breathe, a chance to slow down. His chest was heavy with the burden of guilt.
The image of Crowley kneeling on the ground, his skin burned and clothes charred as the recently freed celestial energy seemed to swirl around him and taunt him in mockery. The colorful swirls made his tears look like gold, as he shook and held the recently transformed scale-covered claw against his chest. Adam Young was a few feet away, fallen into a pile made up of his friends, also frozen in fear as they stared at the stars and fire that prevented anyone from getting too close. Aziraphale wasn’t even physically there, instead standing alongside the illusionist’s spirit as he was physically trapped in the town square by a witch finder and the townspeople holding him, bound in rope that ate at his wrists and ankles.
Crowley was freed, in the end. He had approached in his ethereal form and protected him from the light, though Aziraphale struggled to remember how. But even once it seemed like his partner was safe, the two were kept at a distance as Aziraphale was questioned for his affiliation and Crowley was brought back to the Young residence to heal with the boy.
All the cleric could think of was how he was the reason Crowley was inadvertently hurt by him. By his insistence, his stubbornness, his inability to lie and keep a secret. Pulled his partner directly into the mouth of the beast that was his biggest nightmare. One thing led to another, of course, as those thoughts brought on more memories of their previous travels. Again and again and again, it seemed that Aziraphale’s decisions kept hurting him, putting them both in danger, making them lose tremendous amounts of money.
Aziraphale understood that this was flawed thinking. He understood that not everything his mind and memory was telling him was true. His was stuck in his head, he was overthinking it surely.
“If you were putting Crowley at risk, then he would’ve left on his own a long time ago.”
But could that really be true? What if he simply stayed out of pity for the naive and silly cleric with little magic skills and a peculiar religious connection?
These thoughts continued to plague Aziraphale for weeks on end, long after Crowley had healed and was more than ready to go on more quests together. It seemed that the tiefling was eager, in fact, despite what his aloof manner makes it seem like. At every turn he was pulling Aziraphale to do something new, urging towards a more settled down sort of life in their base between missions. It was like a dance the two would perform.
Aziraphale would start and lead with his guilt and concern over Crowley, desperately wanting nothing more than to protect him and offer him security. Keep him from the prying eyes from the townsfolk, to keep him concealed by whatever was searching for him, by trying his best to keep his distance.
Crowley would answer and guide with a rebuttal of sorts. He would derail Aziraphale’s subtle attempts to try to leave or push him away by accepting long term-high reward quests, or making an elaborate dinner to share together by the fire. In the heat of battle Crowley would jump to protect, to assist, even to heal with potions. He was more open, more willing, he kept pulling.
Their actions told opposite stories, their actions told opposite pleas.
“I want to keep you safe. And safe is away from me.”
“I want to keep you close. I want you to be close. You complete me.”
But these words were never once spoken to the other. They just kept dancing.
However, one of the two was the better reader.
The cleric was acting weird, Crowley couldn’t help but wonder on a near daily basis.
During those weeks he spent cooped up in an estate house, going on missions alone to provide money for them to sustain themselves, Crowley kept going back and forth on if he wanted to stay once this was all over. Their arrangement was temporary — they stuck together because it was convenient, because it was easy. They were lacking integral skills in order to survive and thrive as adventurers, they needed the help in order to build up their abilities and become more capable. The more solo missions he takes, the more Crowley realized that he’s more than capable of being on his own. His aim is consistently accurate, he has the knowledge to mix his own healing potions, his stealth skills have vastly improved — why should he even bother staying with someone else? Sticking with another body fundamentally makes it harder for him to hide as he has no choice but to remain low for the rest of his life. Due to this partnership, his name is plastered on job ads, and he’s the regular at many businesses back in their home base village. He’s exposed, open, and vulnerable. Having someone else is just plain cumbersome.
The security and care he felt while he was shielded by Aziraphale’s spirit when it felt like he was about to nearly lose everything he worked so hard for was something Crowley never experienced before. As he was surrounded by Aziraphale’s presence, the light blocked by bright wings and the soft yellow glow of the halo, Crowley finally understood why he subconsciously stuck around for so long.
The dance, their arrangement.
His own actions to keep the music going.
It was an act of love.
For weeks, now that he has a clear head, Crowley has been plotting a way to expose their dance and ask to make it their reality. This comfort, this sense of home, this love, was something he didn’t want to let go.
Crowley had an idea in his head on how this was going to play out.
He was going to make sure to choose a day where it was clear that Aziraphale was in a good mood. A day where he felt more relaxed and comfortable, openly smiling and accepting to small physical touches, willing to go out on brief trips, simply just exist without a guilty expression on his face.
Then he was going to whisk the two of them away for a nice brunch out in town at their favorite bakery.
As his partner would indulge in his favorite pastries, Crowley would (gently) expose their dance and confess how he feels. Of course, the Angel would brightly smile and return the sentiment, and they get to stay together.
The plan was perfect, it was fool proof.
It took a while for him to build up the nerve to even consider choosing a day — it seemed that Aziraphale was all over the place, acting oddly distant and dismissive. It seemed as if he was worried over Crowley, at least from his perspective. He would occasionally catch a few side glances every now and then.
Finally, finally it seemed like he was able to catch the perfect moment.
Aziraphale was trying to plan to break the news to Crowley — he wanted to protect him, to keep him safe, to keep him out of the public eye to keep him hidden. He was practically a walking beacon with his halos and sword, two items that screamed his affiliation. He can’t have the tiefling follow behind him all of the time if all he did was attract attention.
As much as it broke his heart, they had to go their separate ways. While he longed for them to continue traveling together, for them to be together at a deeper level, this was the more logical step for their long-term survival.
He had a simple plan to lay it easy for the rogue.
First, he had to catch him on a good day. One where Crowley was relaxed and comfortable, least likely to explode into a bad mood.
Then, he would make sure that Crowley was sitting down — preferably with a cup of coffee or even whisky to calm the nerves.
Finally, he would admit his thoughts and propose the idea that they should travel alone from now on. Hopefully, Crowley would understand where he was coming from and easily agree.
It was simple. It was perfect.
Now he just had to calm his nerves and go for it.
Later that week, as the two stood together in the kitchen to share their morning tea and toast, both of them clocked how at ease the other seemed. Aziraphale hummed as he stirred the sugar and honey into his mug, and Crowley would quietly sway as he stood besides his chair.
The cleric wasn’t running away.
The rogue wasn’t antsy.
They’ve accepted their plans and were ready to move forward.
After cleaning up the dishes, Crowley quietly slipped out of their small base to head out into town to check on the bakery to double check that it was going to be serving breakfast later that day (and possibly to ask one of the employees to save a few pastries for when they arrive as they do tend to sell out).
“Ah, Mr. Crowley! Good morning to you,” the employee, a lovely half-elf he had come to know as Nina, hummed. “The usual I suppose?”
“Add in a dash of cream with it, please — I need to keep my nerves,” Crowley said as he leaned against the counter.
“Your nerves?” Nina asked with a quirk of her eyebrow. “Is something going on?”
Crowley had practically become a regular at this bakery, with how often Aziraphale would send him there to pick up bread or quick meals for them to share. While he would wait for one of the bakers to gather his order, he would stand up front and get a large cup of espresso and chat with the manager. It was the main way he learned about village gossip — being one of the main baristas, Nina was told all sorts of secrets from customers who would come in and out of the shop all the time. From the conflict in the square over the job board, to the rumors about crushes between shop owners, she has heard everything. Crowley would find himself spilling to her every now and then, with the comfort knowing that his secrets were safe behind her lock and key.
“You know, the, uh…the thing,” Crowley sputtered.
“The…thing?” Nina echoed.
Crowley quickly nodded. “The thing. I’m planning to say the thing. I, nnn, fuckin…I’ve been waiting for the time to say ‘the thing’, and it finally looks like he isn’t two seconds from running to the hills or crumble under some strange pressure I can’t identify. It’s like a reset button was pressed! I need to say it now, or I’m going to clam up, and we’re going to keep going in circles and things are going to keep becoming more and more weird and awkward, and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that, and-“
“You need to get that gob under control,” Nina said with a laugh while placing a ceramic mug in front of the man. “In order for you to say ‘the thing’, you’re gonna have to save your words for it.”
Crowley took a quick swig of his espresso before heavily sighing. He solemnly stared down at the deep brown liquid.
“We’ve been traveling and working for, what…25ish years? Met when we were both young and stupid, kept moving between towns in search for quests, finally settled down at a home base and have been working ever since.”
“That’s what you’ve told me,” Nina hummed. “You basically made a business front for yourselves and have become infamous faces around here. Like that book hoard we can see through the upstairs window.”
“The ‘library’,” Crowley corrected. “It’s Aziraphale’s favorite loot to collect. I don’t even want to think about what could be on the covers on some of those books or hidden between the pages,” he grimaced. “Our storage room became the library because he just kept getting more books whenever we went out.”
Crowley glanced out the storefront window to eye up his ‘home’. The bottom floor was their “shop” of sorts were people could come in and hire them for the day, or search through the loot they were offering to sell in case they needed any strange objects. Crowley would spend hours sifting through everything to choose stuff to put up front. He would say to Aziraphale that he was doing this to clear up more space in their living quarters, when in reality he enjoyed making arrangements of objects to pair together in a sort of scheme to sell as much as humanly possible. It was like a fun game to him. Behind and above the main store front was where they lived. The place came with a couple of extra bedrooms, but only one was used at a time (they never seemed to sleep at the same time, and when they would sleep both had an affinity for the bed on the top floor, with a window that faced the sunrise). There were readings rooms, a common area, kitchen, everything they needed. It was oddly a very domestic arrangement, one that they never thought they’d find themselves in. Little details filled the corners of this area — plants Crowley would bring back littered every corner and empty space, a large portion of one of the spare rooms was taken up by a large tank that held a snake, and what was called the “office” was littered in papers covered in Aziraphale’s frilly handwriting.
“We have a life here,” Crowley lamented. “A comfortable one. A safe one. Right now, we are living together separately. I…I just…I want this to be us living together. Completely.”
He sighed and glanced down at his cup as he gently swirled it around in circles. He watched as the cream mixed a bit more with the coffee, making the liquid a bit more lighter in color.
“If he didn’t like this arrangement, he seems to be the type that would’ve left a long time ago,” Nina said. “What’s the worst he could do if you asked?”
“Well, he could stab me with a blade, for one. Or blast me with magic. Or stab me with a flaming blade instead, that’s more likely,” Crowley quickly responded. “We’ve never had this conversation before, not even as a campfire sort of chat, so I don’t have a single clue about how he feels about anything romantic, let alone from someone who is probably the same gender, I mean he comes from a very strict religious background and I’m sure you’re aware about what kind of stuff those folks are really weird about, and-“
“Anthony,” Nina quickly butted in to make him stop. “I bet you that Mr. Aziraphale is not like that, I’m sure that he’s completely far from that. I have seen the way that he looks at you, how he talks to you. I see it loud and clear. You guys, you just…”
She sighed and shook her head. As she gently placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, she made direct eye contact with him.
“You two don’t talk about the important things. The really really important things. You talk around the important things and hope that the other person picks up on what they’re trying to say. I’ve seen it while you have your lunches, I’ve heard you complain about it nearly a million times now! You guys need to talk, you need to do ‘the thing’ and say something!”
~~~~~~~~
Aziraphale was wearing a path into the floorboards of the front room. Crowley had suddenly ran off and his thoughts immediately began to spin and scream.
“You’re running out of time, he seemed excited about something, you’re both becoming way too comfortable with this! You are blatantly putting him in danger for purely selfish reasons, you can’t let this go on any longer!”
His thoughts kept berating him with harsh words, kept pushing him with memories of recent events that filled him with fear that even he hasn’t admitted to Crowley about yet.
The cleric had gone out a couple of weeks ago on his own to a market in a nearby town. He did this to give himself some space, he did this to create some temporary distance between him and his partner, he did this…he did this because the distillery that made Crowley’s favorite bourbon finally restocked and he had promised that he would get him some that weekend to celebrate their recent mission. The particular bourbon was the one that Aziraphale had given to him on what he had determined was the tieflings’s birthday ages ago, and was insistent that he keep it despite the fact that he got the date wrong by a couple of months. That drink, both for the memories and the taste, had easily become his favorite and the rogue tried to keep at least one bottle in the building if possible.
While he was out in the market, both buying the bottle and grabbing some supplies he normally can’t find at home, Aziraphale was struck by a horrifying and familiar sight. Across the crowds of villages and travelers was the face of one of his Brothers, the halos shining in that distinct light-purple hue that identified the particular brother. He was standing and talking with someone who was unfamiliar to the cleric, a short dark elf with scruffy black hair, and an official looking uniform with a shining medallion on the lapel. Aziraphale was quick to leave once he willed himself to move again, his heart pounding in his ears as he prayed that the two did not see him as he fled.
They were looking for him, that much was for certain. It wasn’t long before they would find him and whisk him away, putting Crowley and the rest of the village in danger in the process.
Aziraphale stopped, catching his breath as he started to make himself pant in his panic. Taking a quick survey of the area outside of the windows, the cleric noted that his partner was still away to gods knows where. With the allotted time, Aziraphale quickly got down on his knees and clasped his hands in prayer. He bowed his head, halos nearly slipping over his eyes, blinding him in their light, as he concentrated.
“Dear Ecliel, forgive me for my insolence and greed as I have held onto my time for far too long. I admit to this hubris,” he started in a hushed breath. “I have clung to him, I have held him down and nearly dragged him into my own pit of despair and sins because I could not let go. I beg of thee, spare him from my mistakes, bring guidance to help free him from his own chains and bring him a bright and prosperous life away from the demons of the past. Be the guiding star I selfishly tried to be instead. Amen.”
His words echoed into the ether, their message and magic spreading into the air in search for their receiver. Aziraphale sat frozen, letting his confession sink into his soul, his words repeating in his mind lest he forget.
It’s been so long since he has prayed. He hopes that She will finally listen to him and spare him with Her grace.
A creak on the front porch outside of their door made Aziraphale shoot up in a panic and quickly dust off his tunic in order to look presentable.
Bag sitting on the front desk filled with potions and his notebook of spells?
Check.
Sword held in its sheath strapped to his side by a belt?
Check.
Pockets filled with extra cash that he has saved on the side in case of emergencies?
Check.
There was no going back now. This was the next step. This was the necessary step. No more dancing around the conversation.
He had to tell the truth.
After fighting with the door, Crowley stumbled into the main room, bearing a smile on his face and holding a sack of pastries under his arms. As he struggled with his keys to ensure that the door was properly locked, Aziraphale meekly entered the room and stood by the doorway near the front desk, ringing his hands together to try to calm his nerves. As Crowley turned, the two made quick eye contact. The tiefling brightened, Aziraphale winced in fear, as the two stepped towards each other.
“Ah, perfect timing! I stopped by the bakery and talked to Nina, she said that they’ll be cooking brunch today-“
“-Ah, Crowley, I don’t mean to interrupt but there is something that I must-“
“-and I thought, ‘oh perfect! We have completed a bunch of successful missions recently and haven’t had time for a sit down meal’, so I got some-“
“-tell you and I really think we should sit down and have an honest conversation because this won’t be easy for me to say, so just, please-“
“-of your favorites and figured we could go out because there’s been something on my mind and I really think that-“
“-we need to talk.” “-we need to talk.”
As the two kept talking at each other, they kept getting physically closer and closer together. The two owlishly blinked at each other in disbelief as their rants synced up at the same line.
“O-oh, oh goodness, oh dear,” Aziraphale fussed as he started to internally panic. “W-what was it you were trying to say my dear?”
“Ah, um…” Crowley rubbed the paper of the pastry bag between his fingers before ultimately decided to place it down on the counter that ended up beside them. He wrung his hands together and gestured vaguely at the cleric. “You should go first.”
“Crowley, ah-“ Aziraphale started to pick at the skin around his finger nails in an attempt to calm himself. “No, really, it’s okay, f-forget it.”
Crowley raised his eyebrow in suspicion as he felt Aziraphale’s anxiety hit him in waves. He looked flighty again, like he has been for the past week or so. There goes that plan entirely, at least for now. He waved dismissively and let himself physically relax as he already accepted the failure. “No, really, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”
Aziraphale immediately deflated at the question. Of course he was able to pick up on his panic, it was probably crystal clear on his face. He took a brief moment to take a deep breath and compose himself as he faced the tiefling.
“I-I, uh…goodness…this isn’t really the right time to bring this up, but honestly there hasn’t and probably will never, uh, be a um…there will never be a good time for this,” Aziraphale rambled. “I have a proposition. An arrangement, I suppose it would be better phrased as.”
Aziraphale gulped as he watched the tiefling narrow his eyes in suspicion and glare at him, an eyebrow raising to prompt him to continue. He just had to keep pushing and say the line. This was for him, for his safety, for his life.
“I…” Aziraphale pointedly made an effort to look away from Crowley’s face. “I believe our time working together, our arrangement, has run its course. I-it’s time for us to travel and work on our own. F…far away from each other. Protect and help more people by spreading out to reach others out there. On…o-on our own. For the foreseeable future.”
Crowley took in a sharp breath through his nose as he processed the clerics words. The other man was biting his lip as he forced himself to put on a pained smile to try and soften the blow of the true meaning behind what he had said.
Oh. Just his fucking luck. Absolutely brilliant.
Crowley growled in annoyance as he grabbed his glasses and tore them off his face, gripping them tightly between his claws. He swiftly turned away from the human, grimacing in annoyance as he tried to ignore his heart breaking into a thousand piece.
Aziraphale blinked in surprise. He stepped forward, and in an attempt to gain control over the situation, started to speak without thinking.
“M-my dear, please, this is for both of our benefits, for our safety, for your safety, you have to understand-“
“Oh I understand,” Crowley spat. He swiftly turned and made direct eye contact with the other man, his eyes wet with brewing tears. “I understand completely.”
Aziraphale could feel the fire emanating off of the rogue as he stared into his golden eyes, the irises pin-sharp slits that bore into his soul. The air was thick and dense, the tension creating static that kept pricking at both of their skin.
After what felt like minutes of silence as they stared, it seemed the tiefling finally broke as he fell back and physically relaxed, a look of defeat forming on his face.
“Fuck, okay, if I don’t say this now then I will probably never get the opportunity again. So I might as well say it while I have you right here in front of me.”
“Crowley-“
Aziraphale was quickly shut up by the sharp and deadly look the rogue gave him the moment he dared try to speak.
Crowley took a deep breath. This wasn’t the circumstance that he wanted. This wasn’t what he planned. In fact this was far beyond that. But there’s no going back now.
“We’ve been working together for a long time, you and me. A couple of decades now, it seems, though honestly it feels more like thousands and thousands of years. It’s just been us, the two of us, a team, a group, a party. We’ve fought and battled and won and lost, and we’ve settled down in this dinky little shop in this dinky little town. And we’ve been here. Together. Comfortable and settled into our roles separately. And, a-and I would like to spend-mmm…“
Crowley shuttered as he sniffed and looked away. He needed to compose himself. Keep himself together.
“A-and I would like to spend this life together. Comfortably together. We’re a package deal, the two of us. Throw away the past, f-focus on the present. Together.”
Crowley turned and made eye contact with the cleric again as a single tear escaped, sliding down his cheek and getting caught in his scales.
Aziraphale couldn’t breathe as he blankly stared at his partner in disbelief. All this time…all this time he ran away, afraid that his feelings were null, a fantasy, a farce. But now…it was too late.
The silence bore into Crowley’s soul. Aziraphale was staring at him, with pure horror on his face.
“R-right,” Crowley huffed out in a laugh as he shook open his glasses and placed them back on his face. “You don’t need to tell me. I’ll go pack and get out of here.”
He kept his expression neutral as he slipped by the cleric to head up the stairs to their living quarters. Aziraphale had to will himself to move and turn towards him.
“C-crowley, wait!” he desperately called as he started to pant.
It was becoming difficult to breathe. The air was thick and stale, clogging his lungs like he was underwater. What did he do, what did he do, what did he do??
Crowley paused and turned slightly, his expression softened just a smidge as he gazed down at the frantic human standing before him.
“Don’t bother,” he said calmly as he started to continue walking towards the stairs again. “I don’t need your forgiveness.”
“I-I need you!” Aziraphale blurted before he could even think, his thoughts turning a million miles per hour. “Forgive me!”
Crowley paused as he grabbed the handrail, the weight of the cleric’s words falling upon his shoulders.
The desperation. The fear. The care and love and protectiveness over him. The secrets untold just waiting to burst and fall open. It was all so heavy and burdensome.
“You idiot…” Crowley huffed out in a laugh. “Oh you absolute idiot.”
Aziraphale started to shake as he tried to watch his partner, his vision swimming and twisting. What has he done, what has he done, he’s ruined this, he’s ruined everything, he’s ruined it all again and-
The cleric barely processed in his storm of thoughts that the rogue had turned and quickly marched towards him, his expression both broken yet determined and confident.
Crowley gathered his nerves and decided to take initiative as he stepped away from the stairs and swiftly turned, using the burst of confidence he had to turn back and face him.
One step. Two steps.
Claws snagged at the scraggly white fabric and pulled the body forward, causing it to emit a shocked yelp in surprise.
Grabbing the cleric by the neckline of his shirt, his knuckles white and holes tearing in the fabric, Crowley pulled Aziraphale towards him. In the center, the two collided in a kiss like they were two stars smashing into each other, exploding into brilliant light and dust and fire.
The two clung to each other like magnets, refusing to pull apart in this frantic and desperate embrace.
Aziraphale hung onto him, pulling him closer and closer in an attempt to not let him slip away. He held Crowley like he was something he was going to lose, like he was something he had finally pushed away in his dumb-witted attempt to protect him, like he was something he needed to stay together.
Crowley gripped onto Aziraphale’s shirt, keeping his hold strong and tight like he was something that was going to frantically run away the moment he would let go. He held Aziraphale like he was something he desperately wanted, like he was something he wanted to keep, like he was something he wanted to make understand that it didn’t need to disappear, like he was something that truly completed him.
Aziraphale was shaking as he helplessly tried to find a place to put his hands on Crowley’s back, desperate to return the sentiment in order to tell him that this was what he wanted, that he was mistaken, that he was a fool.
Oh, how it seemed that the world spun around them, blurring their separation to make them one ambiguous figure made up of clashing colors. Pointy lines and soft, gentle curves, deep reds and quiet blues, two separate ends of the spectrum that were nearly identical when looked at up close. The fates kept drawing them closer and closer, coincidences had become truths, light and dark had mixed and become a soft gray.
The mass seemed to split as Crowley broke them apart, panting as he tried to catch his breath for the angel had stole it. Aziraphale stumbled back in surprise, desperately trying to breathe as a shaky hand touched his lips, feeling the ghost of Crowley’s presence.
The rogue stared at his opposite as his body buzzed with adrenaline, his mind and voice completely silent and spent. While the angel’s halos were blindingly bright, Crowley did not squint as he studied Aziraphale’s shaking form. In a snap, their eyes met, and Crowley finally took a deep breath in relief.
His gaze wasn’t fearful or regretful. He couldn’t identify any doubt, any questions, any arguments. Aziraphale’s eyes were wet and shining, yes, but it was clear that he was far from upset.
“Please…” the cleric breathed. “Do it again. Please, do it again.”
Tears escaped from him as the angel pleaded. Crowley didn’t even need to think, he didn’t need to say a single word as he stepped close again and reached, gently cupping the cleric’s face in his hands. As their lips met once more, with less desperate ferocity this time, and their eyes gently closed in comfort, Crowley felt Aziraphale’s arms drape over his shoulders, his body melting against his as he finally relaxed.
“I’m not leaving, I was a fool. I’m still a fool. Will you ever forgive me for this mistake?” was what Aziraphale’s heart was pleading.
“Don’t be fearful. Whatever made you want to run, it’s our battle now,” Crowley’s heart called back. “It always has been, it always will be. Stay with me.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
#mari writes#good omens#good omens d&d au#good omens d&d#good omens au#good omens writing#good omen fanfiction#crowley good omens#Aziraphale good omens#nina good omens#crowley#Aziraphale#the final 15#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#aziraphale x crowley#Gabriel and Beelzebub are mentioned if you happen to notice it#i went a little bit crazy writing this whole thing#It’s a lot#fanfiction#original writing#d&d au
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hii!! can u pls write a drabble for lo'ak x fem va'vi where the reader fell first but he fell harder 😔 like he realized that the reader was so good at handling Tuk and made him think of how good their relationship is and how the reader handles lo'ak's doubts and whatnots. thank uu!!
something there ♡۰⸼ ۫ lo'ak
thank you for this request anon! i love this idea, and thankfully after being able to buy atwow on digital, i got over my writer's block. hopefully you like this x
Despite the attitude lo'ak often portrayed, he was a family man. Sure, he rolled his eyes whenever his brother pulled him into a side hug, and scoffed whenever his mother tasked him with bringing tuk along on his adventures, but he loved his family. He would do absolutely anything for them.
So, when he witnessed you, a pretty girl, but a stranger no less, indulging his little sister by playing along with her games, and being so genuinely invested in what she had to say, he was intrigued.
He watched with rapt interest as the two of you wrestled playfully, rolling around in the leaves, sending dirt everywhere as you both laughed in content. You, going as far as feigning fear when Tuk hissed playfully, her small fangs not fully grown, posing more of an angry kitten if anything.
"Lo'ak! Come meet y/n, she's so pretty, and cool. She plays with me and let's me win too!" Tuk cheered. Lo'ak had no choice but to come over as you had sat up, and been made aware of his presence.
It was only when you turned to face him, did he realize, you were not a stranger at all. In fact, he knew you. you had been the first female omaticayan to tame their ikran in under five minutes. an achievement that made him envious. you were the clan's best weaver as well, often creating the outfits for the festivities, and you were beautiful. a fact that all the male na'vi were aware of. himself included.
he felt himself stumble at the revelation, and his ears pinned back as you giggled along with tuk at his misstep. tail flicking behind him he tried to remain nonchalant as he neared you, offering a nod that had you raising a confused brow.
"uh..hey." he offered lamely, sending a sharp glare at tuk when she giggled, and made googly eyes, no doubt mocking his expression.
You smiled at him, offering a wave and he mentally cursed when he felt his tail swish happily at your sudden attention. What the hell was going on with him. He had just spoken two words to you, and all of a sudden his heart was fluttering in his chest, as if trying to find it's way back to whoever had stolen it.
Oh.
Oh.
You had harbored a crush for Lo'ak, for as long as you could remember. Often tagging along with his siblings to their home, hoping to get a glimpse of him, and even trying to strike a conversation with him. He never seemed to be interested or even aware of your presence, and you had backed off, assuming your duties, all while trying to get over your feelings.
However, it seemed as if things had flipped, and now he was seeking you out. Finding excuses to spend more time with you, and watching you with such an intense gaze you'd have to look away.
Your relationship seemed to develop, yet neither of you made a move to further it, despite the obvious interest from both parties.
You sighed as you played with a yovo fruit, appetite now dissipated as you had allowed your thoughts to trail too far.
You perked up as a familiar voice called your name, tail swaying with interest as Lo'ak approached you, a nervous gait to his usual smug strut. His tail twitched nervously behind him, and you wondered what could have possibly made him so unsure of himself.
You knew he constantly compared himself to his older brother, and to his dad, to whom he looked up to, and strived to be. It saddened you that he didn't view himself as you did, confident, caring, and a strong heart.
"What is it, ma Lo'ak?" You asked, smiling proudly when a slight coloring appeared on his cheeks at your usual affectionate term for him.
He played with his fingers, before he took a deep breathe, and straightened up. His eyes found yours, and your breathe hitched at the adoration in his gaze.
"Oel ngati kameie." He spoke to you softly, his fingers trailing from his forehead towards you, in the traditional na'vi way. However those three words were laced with everything he didn't say. It was not a greeting, but a confession.
A smile broke out on your face as you repeated the gesture, a smile curling up on Lo'ak's lips as he stepped closer.
"I see you, Lo'ak. I always have."
You pulled him down, and into a kiss.
Nothing had ever felt so right.
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I’LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW I WAS ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU
(livax thoughts)
#oc ships#mari’s ocs#eifie’s ocs#oc vax#oc livi#<- not mine#livax#oc aesthetic#enchanted taylor swift#mari and eifie#mari’s mutuals#mari writes#mari fangirls#kingdom nihil#nihil au
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Just throwing this out here…
If anyone wants me to write about something from TMNT 2012 (whether it be a character or a scene), I would be happy to write an analysis on it. Just message or ask me and I will try to break it down as best I can or get the talking points you want in there
I already have some that I plan on doing that, but if for whatever reason, you want me to talk about it, I will be happy to.
I will not include writing about any bashing of another tmnt show, tcest (yes this includes the romantic pairing of Leo and Karai), NSFW topics.
And please keep it to TMNT 2012. It’s the one I know best about. Thank you!
Topics I Plan to Write About Someday:
Mikey not being a “baby” and an actual menace (/aff)
Leo isn’t an asshole
They Chaotic Sibling Duo that is Karai and Leo
#tmnt 2012#tmnt 2012 long posts#Mari rambles#Mari writes#I love doing scene or character analysis on 2012
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wandering thoughts
She’s haunting him, he is sure of it. How else could she be lingering through his thoughts, burning her way through his mind?
Penelope Eckhart is chasing around Kallisto in his dreams.
read on ao3
Then, what intentions could she possibly have behind her actions?
Had she been dared to confess to him, too stubborn and prideful to decline such a thing? Had she truly gone mad?
Could she honestly harbour feelings towards him?
He couldn't help but ask why. What was there to love about him, about a dog that spent almost a decade rolling in the battlefield? Actually, his life out of the war wasn't much different. It was all about killing and avoiding being killed; every thought, every action, every fraction of his time was about survival. His good-looks, she said, his bravery, his skill with a sword, but all felt like empty words, all too superficial. If those were truly reasons to make people love him, he would be drowning amongst love promises for years now. She wasn't telling him her true reasons, which he desperately needed to hear, he had to know what could possibly have made her love him.
#i know this is from october#but i just needed to make a post for it#mari writes#ditoeftv#penelope eckhart#callisto regulus#penelope x callisto
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you know what slapped? my long-suffering corinthian wip
(here it's pre-canon and he's voyeuring on hob dreaming of dream. btw)
#on the topic of the corinthian and his deal as a nightmare#corintheus#dreamling too actually but it's complicated#the sandman#mari writes#the corinthian
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There’s a crypt in the deepest depths of the Deepfrost Citadel. A crypt with an eerie blue glow, filled with icy bones that whisper promises of destiny and greatness.
Tango stays away from it.
He knows a demon tomb when he sees one. He knows not to disturb a tomb with protection seals that signify a great threat.
Deep down, he knows he won’t be able to ignore the siren call of the bones for much longer. Knows that the power sealed in that crypt is stronger anything he can comprehend. Knows that as the Citadel gets colder, and the ice spreads around his base, that the tempting whispers spoken by those bones will only grow stronger.
After all, destiny cannot be undone.
For now, the dungeon is ready for its next victim.
#I’ve been thinking real hard about the lady bone demon and the ice theme with decked out#so I decided to combine them#tfw an ancient demon is buried in your dungeon game and slowly possessing you but it’s fiiiiiine#tangotek#lady bone demon#decked out 2#mari talks#Mari writes
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Velma/Daphne Legally Blonde AU for @augustwritingchallenge Day 5: Teachers
Velma was walking back to her dorm when she saw the girl from her class in a bunny costume. "Daphne?"
She lifted her head. She was crying. "Hey." She wiped her tears just enough to be able to see. "You're a TA, right?"
"Yeah, I remember you from Van Ghoul's class." Velma sat down next to her on the bench. "But why are you here? In that." She gestured at the bunny outfit.
Daphne threw herself back against the bench. "I was trying to impress my ex boyfriend."
Velma was shocked into silence. "You're here for a guy? Here at Harvard Law School?"
Daphne sat up, her eyes red and puffy but tears no longer streaming from her eyes. "Yes. It's stupid, I know."
Velma shook her head. "No, it's never stupid to follow your heart. Just make sure you're not just doing it for him."
A light went off in Daphne's eyes. "Right."
"Well, I'm going home. Are you going back to that party?"
Daphne stood up and took a few steps towards Velma. "Actually, can I come with you? I have some studying to do."
"It's a date," Velma told her, and put her jacket over Daphne's shoulders.
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Just My Type
pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader
tags - hockey player and figure skater au
warnings - none I think
wordcount - 1.1k
a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested
The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.
Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.
Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.
After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.
Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.
“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.
“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”
“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.
Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.
The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?
You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.
Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.
“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.
“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.
You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.
“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”
Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.
“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.
“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.
Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.
“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”
“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.
“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”
“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”
The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.
“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.
He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”
“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.
Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.
By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.
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I wrote a fic on ao3 and decided to post it here as well! I'll do the same with the other one eventually, but since I just posted it I figured I might as well do it here as well. Enjoy!
(For a more immersive reading experience, listen to the song that gave this fic its title while reading the first half: Lavender Hills - by Brian Crain from the Piano and Cello Duet album.)
Thank you to AuroraLightsss, ilaiawanderlust, and Fable for beta reading this fic <3
___
It was a beautiful day. The sun sat at its apex, but there was a consistent, cool wind to cut through the heat of the rays. Whenever this breeze swept through the field, it would send a slow, satisfying ripple of purple spanning miles of rolling hills and fully bloomed flowers.
Lavender Hills - by marinovels
Legend blinked and was sitting in a seemingly endless field of lush purple flowers. The stalks were long and stuck straight up from the ground, but the ends were soft and made for a pleasant cushion beneath his hands and legs. They exuded the fragrant and notable smell of lavender.
There were fluffy white dollops of cloud in the sky, splattered throughout a vibrant blue. They varied in size, but none of them spoke of rain. They floated leisurely by, the few that crossed paths with the sun providing a brief reprieve of shade before moving along.
It was a beautiful day. Legend dared to assume it couldn’t get any more perfect. Then a wistful sigh caught his ear. He turned, and immediately revoked his previous assumption.
Sitting beside him in a much similar position, with hands bracing himself upright behind him and legs splayed out in front, basking in the sun’s glory, was Hyrule. Instantly, Legend was captivated by the sight of him, drawn into drinking in every detail, as if trying to paint it in his mind.
The rays fell around his silky brown locks like a glowing halo. They weaved around, up and down, holding each other, cupping under his ear and around his jaw, holding his face in a gentle caress. A chestnut bob of unruly curls that looked as soft as a newborn puppy felt. If it merely looked that way, Legend couldn’t imagine how it would feel to touch it. He found himself imagining anyway.
A sea of precious little freckles decorated smooth olive skin, it too illuminated to the state of radiance by the sun. They roamed over his rounded cheeks, down his neck, onto his collarbone, and what little could be seen of his chest before his tunic rudely intruded. They fell down his body like meteors in the night.
In the midst of his awed admiration, Hyrule turned to him. Legend’s breath caught in his throat as long lashes drew upwards to reveal shimmering green eyes that gleamed like polished gemstones. Flecks of gold sparkled deep within them.
As emerald green met sapphire blue, the contented smile that Hyrule had worn while he had been taking in the sun widened to a grin at the sight of Legend beside him. It was warm and genuine. It was a treasure no chest could ever hope to contain.
A breeze sent its usual ripple across the lavender field, but Legend paid it no mind. He was far too focused on how gently it lifted and swayed Hyrule’s curls in its own entrancing ripple. Legend could vaguely feel his own locks whipping against the side of his face. He hardly noticed the sting, far too lost in the sight of his companion so deeply within his element.
There was a sudden, pinching longing that spiked in Legend’s chest. It was abrupt, however not unpleasant, like the teasing scratch of dirt under his palms.
Hyrule’s hair looked so horribly soft, and all Legend wanted to do was feel it between his fingers. He wanted to take his hand and caress it with his thumb, counting every freckle that lay there. He wanted to pick him up, spin him around and around, relishing his laugh, reveling in his embrace. He yearned for the warmth of his presence even while he was within it.
He was engulfed, fully trapped in Hyrule’s kind gaze. He felt comforted absolutely by his companionship. He knew that there was no one else in the world who could make him feel this way. So unconditionally cherished, so thoroughly respected and admired.
That was when he realized that he loved Hyrule. Not in the way that he had loved Marin, for it wasn’t quite romantic, or his Uncle, for it didn’t replicate the love of family, or even Ravio, for it was still more than a friendship. It was a kind of love that was very specific. It was special and beautiful and only theirs. It was the only time that Legend could say, with true certainty, that he had never loved anyone the way he loved him.
He was so wholly enraptured with his realization, that he'd nearly missed it when Hyrule parted his lips to speak.
“Link,” he uttered, so sweetly that Legend had almost missed the oddity of it.
Link. He had called him by his real name. Their shared name. Hyrule only ever called him that to calm him after one of his frequent nightmares. Or when he was being stubborn about something. It was so out of place. So eerily inappropriate.
He called his name again. “Link!”
Legend opened his mouth to ask him why he was calling him that, but his throat felt tight. He felt hot in the face, uncomfortably so. He tried to breathe through his nose and found that his chest shook with every choked breath. Something light and wet tickled his cheeks and clung to his chin and suddenly the realm around him disappeared.
The pillow of flowers beneath him became the plush velvet of a luxurious and expensive sofa. The sun disappeared behind a sheet of gray clouds that hung overhead outside the window. The vast, beauteous field of lavenders became the inside of Zelda’s study, tinted gray with the dreary weather from outside intricately designed windows. Zelda herself looked concernedly at him from her place on the matching sofa across from him.
“Good goddesses, Link, are you alright?” She fussed, practically falling off of her seat with how she leaned in an obvious, desperate attempt to read him.
Wet continued to trickle down his face and it was only then that Link realized he had been silently, stoically weeping. His face had made no move to scrunch or squint with anguish. His mind had been so deeply obscured by his own thoughts that it only had the sense to tell his eyes to weep, and nothing else.
Link tried to remember what they had been discussing before his conscience escaped him. He couldn’t. He drew in another choked breath through his mouth, feeling the cool air pry the skin of his lips apart.
“Pardon me,” he began, his voice hoarse and painfully quiet, “could you repeat that one more time? What you said before?”
The princess seemed relieved enough to have at least gotten a response from him, but was rather apparently taken aback by the question. She blinked, trying to gather up a proper reply.
“Well, erm, you asked me what kind of tea I’d made.”
“Ah, right. What kind is it again?”
“It’s lavender, Link.”
Any further questions that Zelda might have asked after that, concerning his well-being or otherwise, were drowned out in the silence of Link’s mind. Lavender. He’d been so excited when Link had shown him that field. Link remembered clear as day how his smile had shown brighter than the midday sun. How he’d vowed to protect that smile with his very life.
He remembered all the promises made. He remembered how he could never fulfill them.
The grief in that statement tore Link back into his senses, like a suddenly overwhelming tsunami. Zelda had just finished a statement and looked expectantly at him. Link had caught the final inflection of her sentence. She’d asked a question.
He turned his gaze down to his cup, filled with warm swirling brown tea. The honey that he had added before he’d lost himself made a ring, a halo around the soft brown of the rest of the liquid. Not quite knowing how to answer what he hadn’t heard in the first place, he merely spoke the words already set upon his tongue.
“Lavender was his favorite.”
___
(Hope you enjoyed! Be sure to check it out on Ao3 as well)
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#mari writes#marinovels#legend lu#hyrule lu#fable lu#lu#legend linked universe#hyrule linked universe#fable linked universe#legend angst#lu hyrule#lu legend#lu fable#the legend of zelda#loz
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Well, if yall recall, earlier this week I rambled about a Stardew Valley Good Omens AU. I have not talked about it much here, but that does not mean I haven't been doing this with it!
Ta da!! A fanfiction my partner and I are writing!!
I am releasing this chapter-by-chapter as we get stuff for it done -- I thought it would be more fun that way! (Especially if we stay consistent and form a full story haha, maybe....)
At some point I will post doodles and other art things for this au. Stay tuned!!
In the mean time, feel free to shoot me asks about the story/world and the roles of the characters! (I am ITCHING to talk about this teehee)
#mari rambles#mari writes#sheep writes#good omens#good omens fanfiction#good omens au#good omens stardew valley au#stardew omens#yes i know thats the mod and the name of an existing fic i need to figure out a tag for this au#crowley x aziraphale#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#crowley good omens#aziraphale good omens#farmer crowley#human au#good omens human au#fanfiction#original writing#stardew valley
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𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 ━ ★ masterlist
pairing - neteyam x female jedi! reader
synopsis - after order 66 is executed the remaining jedi are sent into hiding as the empire seeks to wipe out any remains of the old republic and any semblance of hope. you, a former jedi and padawan of ahsoka tano crash lands on pandora among the seas of Awa'atlu.
The Metkayina clan are weary of the newcomer seeing as you bares no resemblance to any of the na'vi, being a togruta, and from a different planet altogether. However, your skills prove useful as a force user and you're given sanctuary furthest from the village as they deem you a witch, an thus, an outcast.
It's there where you meet the Sully's and an indescribable bond is formed between you and the oldest son, Neteyam.
see also - the jedi teach the dangers of attachments, but how could love be a bad thing?
CHAPTERS
tbd
WARNINGS
mentions of violence, death, genocide.
#graysonshaven#neteyam#post rots#atwow#mari writes#masterlist#neteyam x reader#togruta reader#star wars#jedi reader
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on the outside, always looking in, will i, ever be more than i’ve ever been // but every sun doesn’t rise, and no one tells you where you went wrong
noah!!!! 🩵🖇️🌊🗑️❄️
#oc noah#<- not mine#eifie’s ocs#oc aesthetic#aesthetic#moodboard#oc moodboard#dear evan hansen#waving through a window#mari fangirls#mari and eifie#mari’s mutuals#mari writes
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No one asked, but here’s another little piece. Almost done… I think.
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