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ldysmfrst · 2 months

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American Mate - (5) Heated Discussions (M)

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 5 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 2765 (sorry it is so short)

Work count for Story: 19,008

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I started a Patreon if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, arguments, comfort, Alpha Space, close proximity, and scenting.

This chapter has a slightly mature scene at the end. At the start of the mature scene, the following banner will be displayed:

Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Keep Safe. Keep Safe. First, it was Taehyung, and now it's Yoongi. Alpha Space seems to be no joke. Derek was not lying when he said this mindset helps them protect. Let’s hope this doesn’t mean they will treat you like a child.

Walking out of the elevator, you cannot help but smile at the rest of the Bangtan pack. While still in pain, you felt safe around them.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/n. I have a few things that I would like to discuss with you before we get going. Allow me to walk you to your van,” Manager Sejin directs you off to the side with a nod from Namjoon.

Yoongi closely follows you as you go with Manager Sejin. “Miss Y/n, thank you for your care and consideration in this situation. I can promise you that it will not be easy for the eight of you, but it will be worth it.”

As he speaks, you feel a tail wrap around your waist, and a hand touches your back. Looking over your shoulder, you see that Yoongi has his hand on your upper back but is facing away from you, looking at his packmates.

Noticing that the group has gathered in a circle, something significant is being discussed. Not wanting to keep Yoongi from doing something important, you look back at the manager.

“Manager Sejin, I do not feel so well. Can you please take me to the van? I would like to sit down and process things.” He nods and moves towards the van in front.

“Mr. Min,” you smile softly at the jaguar as he looks at you, keeping an ear tuned in to the group of men. “I am going to go sit in the van. I am sure that I will be fine there while I wait for you and your packmates.”

Adding a bit of a pout to your smile, you ask, “Can you go and make sure everything is okay so that we can go? My hand is really starting to hurt?”

“Yes. Van safe. Manager Safe. Go packhouse now.” Yoongi responds.

Unwrapping his tail, he pushes on your back softly, urging you to get in. He returns to the circle of hybrids in what looks like a new heated discussion.

After exiting the elevator, Taehyung makes to stay with you, Yoongi, and the manager but is stopped by Jungkook. The younger one knows Taehyung would want to be a part of the discussion that is soon to come, even if he is still in Alpha Space.

After you had gone off with Yoongi and their manager, the remaining packmates circled up at the youngest's request. The mates seek comfort in one another. Jungkook hugs Taehyung from behind, while Jimin hugs Hoseok around the waist as he leans against Seokjin.

Most of the pack had been through finding mates since there are six of them. Jungkook was the only one who understood the concept of what to do with a new mate but had never been on this side of the situation.

“There are two vans. Obviously, Yoongi will be going in the van with Y/n, but who is going with them?” asks Jungkook, looking around as it dawns on them.

The vans only fit five people in the back. Each mate immediately started proposing why they had to be in the same van as you, all at once.

Seokjin said he only got to speak to you before the observation room and needed to see if his Alpha would react like everyone else has so far.

Hoseok tops everyone, saying that he has only ever gotten to look at you, and it’s high time he was able to speak to the newest mate.

Jimin agrees with Hoseok and thinks he can help get Yoongi out of Alpha Space on the trip to the packhouse.

Taehyung keeps quiet, his Alpha Space pulling at him to be near you again soon. However, Taehyung’s Alpha was much calmer and understood that being the second youngest meant he would most likely not be allowed to go.

Jungkook argues that he was the one who got you to calm down in the break room, and your instincts are already reacting to him. Therefore, he is the best person to keep you calm from here on out.

Rubbing his temples, Namjoon lets out a sigh. He said you were ‘no trouble,’ but you really are gonna be trouble for them, but not in a way he is worried about. It's just going to be a change in dynamic.

“Guys, we all want to spend time with our new mate, but we must remember that she is human and doesn’t understand. Right now, all she knows is that Yoongi is deep in Alpha Space, and we, as a pack, must help her situation.”

“How are we going to tell her, Hyung? If her family member's statement is true, she won’t believe us,” Jimin says, looking your way, ears flat in concern.

“That is a good question. I don’t have an answer right now.”

“We may not have much time to come up with something. She needs to know. She needs to understand,” Hoseok voices with watery eyes. If what that man upstairs said truly is the kind of person you are, they must help you grow to recognize yourself.

Moving to hug Hoseok with the others, Jungkook adds, “She may know about hybrids, but she doesn’t know enough about the Alpha-side of the culture, and what’s even worse is that she doesn’t know how precious she is.”

“That’s it! I go in van. Show Mate real!” Taehyung finally speaks up. He turns to walk toward you with a puffed tail and determination, only to be stopped by Soekjin.

“No, you have spent time with her. She knows you care, but she still thinks I am looking at one of the playmates they introduced us to. I am going to go with her.”

Within seconds, they are back to all talking over each other. Each of them demanded the other stay behind with justifications. This time, Namjoon joins in the fray. None of them notice that you have entered the van, and Yoongi is standing just outside the circle, watching the hushed chaos.

With a stern voice that is just a bit louder than everyone else, Yoongi declares, “Packhouse, go now. Mate in pain.”

Silence takes over the group as they all look in your direction. Though you are inside the van, they can still see you. Taking in your appearance, they notice your wrist keeps swelling more, your face is paler, and you are bouncing your leg with nerves.

"Yoongi-hyung is right. We need to go. Yoongi, Hoseok, Jungkook, and I will go with Y/n. The rest of you will go in the other van,” Pack Alpha says with a hint of Alpha voice, trying his best to get everyone going.

“No,” Soekjin counters. “I pull the eldest card. Kookie, I am sorry but you should go with the others and help with Tae. I want to talk with her.”

“Hyuuunnnnggg,” whined the youngest, “fine, I will sit in the reject van.” Jungkook stomps off to the second van. His ears droopy, and his shoulders rounded like a scolded child.

“We got our bun,” Jimin says as he follows, pulling the still crystal-eyed Taehyung along. He mutters promises of scenting, nesting, and various kinds of cuddles if the Alpha joins him and the bunny in the second van.

Taking a seat in the van, you notice two captain chairs and a bench seat. Not knowing where everyone else sat, you figured Yoongi’s Alpha would practically require him to sit near you, which meant the bench seat would be the best.

Sitting in the middle of the bench but on the edge of the seat, you bounce your leg while you wait because your anxiety is still bugging you. Your wrist is throbbing now.

You wish you had something to drink as you eye the bottles of water sitting in the different cup holders. Wishing they had something more potent, you keep quiet, and your eyes return to watching the group talk.

Noticing where your line of sight was, Manager Sejin grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler built into the center console, opened it, and held it out to you. “Would you like something to drink? We only have water.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir. I didn’t want to take something that belonged to the pack.”

Shaking his head, Manager Sejin can smell your nervousness as his eyes flit over your form. Then he takes a quick look at the pack. They are still deep in discussion. Finally, he looks you in the eye.

With a sigh, “Miss y/n, may I give you some advice?”

Swallowing your water quickly, you give him your full attention and nod.

“You are a person. A person that has needs, wants, and desires. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Ask for things. Demand things. I know they can be a bit much but they are each a person just like you. Idol or not.”

At the sound of footsteps, both of you look to see some of them approaching. Before he moves to the front seat, he says, “They will be there for you.”

You are not sure what was more surprising. The fact that the two captain's chairs could turn to face the backseat or that Yoongi allowed you to be sandwiched between his older packmates.

Seokjin entered first. He sat on the bench to your left, and you hurried over to give him room. This was short-lived because next came Hoseok.

Hoseok gracefully wiggled his way to your right side on the bench. No wonder he was a dance god, you thought to yourself as you dropped your eyes to the floor to avoid watching his chest and hips pass your face.

This puts you in the middle and unable to keep any respectful distance between yourself and them. Feeling a blush creep up your neck and face as the two men’s bodies pressed against your larger form, you move to sit on one of the other chairs.

“Sit. Safe. Hyungs…hmmm…” Yoongi starts to explain, but his Alpha Space limits his words since he and his Alpha don’t want to give too much information about you being their mate just yet.

“Sit, please, doll. Yoongi will want to sit near the door to be your first line of defense. I guess you could say,” Hoseok speaks up gently, pulling at your elbow and guiding you back to your seat.

“Yes. Keep Safe. Guard.” Yoongi says with the look of a drill sergeant on his face as he takes the chair near the door. Namjoon, having already taken his seat in the other chair, spun it to face you.

“Guarding the door, got it but I could sit in the chair and Mr. Prime Alpha could sit with you. I am sure it would be more comfortable with him here than with me.”

Next thing you know, you are face-to-face with Seokjin as he leans his chest across your body to tighten you in. You hold your breath as you make eye contact with his deep, intelligent eyes.

“I do hope you are not implying what I think you are,” Seokjin comments while handing Hoseok your seatbelt.

His eyes are searching yours for something. As your blush deepens, a smirk grows on his face before he says, “you are much more cozy to sit with than Joon, Miss y/n.”

You are dizzy at the thought of making yourself ‘cozy’ with Seokjin. Blinking rapidly, you try to return to this reality and out of the gutter as you chuckle a response, “Ah, cozy, haha, I don’t think Gabriel Iglesias uses that in his levels.”

A mixture of hissing and growls fills the van. Your eyes snap up to see that Seokjin is the one hissing as he sits back correctly. Looking over, you see Namjoon’s jaw is set, and Yoongi’s eyes have narrowed as they growl.

Instinctually, you lean away from the dangerous noise makers which causes you to press against Hoseok. Placing a hand back on your elbow, he leans forward, whispering in your right ear, “Doll, I think you have had some rather mean and disrespectful people around you in your past, but you are with us now.”

“We do not allow for anyone to be self-deprecating. From the look on Yoongi’s face this isn’t the first time you have done this.”

Not taking your eyes off the three men whom you seemed to piss off yet again, “It’s not self-deprecation. It’s pointing out the truth, which helps me stay grounded.”

A soft hiss is heard in your ear, causing you to jolt forward, only to be stopped by an arm now around your waist. Hoseok chuckles as he pulls you back against his chest. His warm breath only adds warmth to your already heated skin.

Whispering in your other ear, “While it is nice that you are so instinctually responsive to us, doll. You must learn to listen when you are told something. In time you will believe what we tell you as well.”

While time in the van seemingly stops and sound becomes non-existent, the focus is on you as you battle your various reactions.

Your body responds in a mix of ways. The lean but fit body pressed against your back warms you, causing your heart rate to race. However, the deep chuckles, hot breath on your neck, and primal eyes watching you cause heat to start pooling lower on your body.

Your mind is back in your damn nightmare because you cannot seem to go more than five minutes without causing some kind of adverse reaction from the world’s most famous male K-pop band.

To top it off, you are internally scolding yourself for losing your professionalism when all you want to do is figure out how to make them stop being upset at you and hide before they notice that you are getting riled up over basically nothing.

Your gutter of a mind now takes the nightmare of being hunted by the pack of Alphas in a much different direction.

“Kookie! Kookie! Come on, bun. You know Jin-hyung is only trying to find ways to help,” Jimin coos at the upset bunny hybrid. Shaking his head, Jimin wonders why it is his job always to calm down these two lovebirds.

Realizing Jungkook is a lost cause, Jimin undoes his seatbelt and sits in Taehyung’s lap, gaining his attention. Jimin asks, “Alpha, is this okay? We really need Tae Tae back to help with Kookie and our newest mate. If I scent you well, can you let go?”

The crystal blue eyes look over his slightly older mate,”Scent then help mates.”

Smiling sweetly at the Alpha, Jimin noses at his jaw, causing the tiger to tilt his head to grant more space. Scooting forward and resting fully on Tae’s thighs, Jimin rubs his cheek along Tae’s jawline. Soft puffs of warm air blow across Tae’s neck, causing the Alpha’s breath to hitch.

Continuing his journey, Jimin sniffs down the tip of his ear, down his neck to the bend where the scent of ebony wood is most robust. Pressing a soft kiss to the gland, the scenting session continues.

The scent of ebony wood, oranges, and vanilla mixes. It is not long before the pouting bunny hybrid starts to watch his hyungs. Long forgotten is the reason why he is upset as he slowly releases his own calming cinnamon-like scent into the mix.

Realizing that he has successfully got one of the two mates into a better mood, Jimin ups the ante. Shifting his weight forward, he lays his body flush against Taehyung. Within moments, Taehyung’s hand gripped Jimin’s tiny waist, pulling him in tighter.

Chirping happily at the response, Jimin kisses up and down Taehyung’s neck. When Taehyung starts to scent Jimin back, Jimin nips over the scent gland and laves it with his tongue, mixing their scents deeper.

Soon, the youngest joined them on the bench, sniffing the air and whining. Shifting closer, his bunny tail wiggled, and his ears stood as tall as they could inside the van.

“Tae-hyung, Minie-hyung, can I join? Please?” Jungkook asks as he softly places a hand on Jimin’s thigh.

Nodding, Jumin moves to the other side of Taehyung’s neck, and Jungkook takes his place. Drowning the spaced-out Alpha in the loving scents of his two mates.

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amysnotdeadyet · 7 months

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Good Steve

Another! And then I have to go cook dinner. Stupid reality.

My darling @newtypeshadow asked for a somewhat complicated Steddie from Stranger Things plot, so she gets 555 words.

If there was one thing Eddie Munson was known for — besides shredding on the guitar — it was being protective of his boyfriend. Corroded Coffin were big enough that when they got outed the subsequent dip in record sales didn't tank their careers.

The metal scene was all about people living their lives outside of social conventions, after all.

Eddie did a cover of Judas Priest's "Breaking the Law" to open every concert that tour. Steve came along the way he always did. Instead of hanging with the other WAGs, he wore a staff shirt and assisted everywhere backstage. He'd learned a ton of useful skills in his years touring with them, and was always happy to help.

It took new guys some time to figure that out, though.

"Why the fuck is he here?" asked the guy who would be known as Bad Steve for the duration of his employment. He was a lighting expert of some renown, but he'd been caught in traffic on the way to the gig, so Steve had started setup while they waited.

"You're late," said Nate through the headset.

Steve emerged from beneath the boards already talking. "They need to solder #17, it's just not connecting." He turned to Bad Steve with a charming, boyish grin. "Oh, hey! I'm Steve, happy to lend a hand."

"You're Munson's boytoy." Bad Steve, unfortunately, had not muted his headset.

A dark 'ooooh' went through the line from several sources.

Steve's expression shuttered. "Check it or don't, but don't blame me if it goes out. Chart's over there."

Eddie came crashing into the booth, looking like a hot mess. "Stevie, baby, I need your touch."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You need me to do your eyeliner again because you smudged it already."

"Yep," said Eddie. "Oh, and Bad Steve, do consider who might be listening, hm?"

Steve let Eddie put his hands in the back pocket of his admittedly small jeans shorts, not even bothering to glance back to where Bad Steve was fuming.

A few hours later, when #17 had been soldered and the show was underway, Bad Steve got to see why Eddie's Steve was the favorite.

A nazi punk managed to get onstage while security was breaking up a fight elsewhere, and Steve flew out of wings with fire in his eyes to tackle the guy before he got past the monitors. Long legs pinned the guy's back to the floor, and he palmed the guy's head like a basketball, leaning in to say something there was no mic to pick up.

The guy tried to get up and got his face slammed into the stage for his trouble, Steve clearly in control even when the punk tried to swipe with a switchblade. The knife clattered away as Steve brought his own arm down on the guy's hand, smashing it into the monitor with a crunching sound and the screech of feedback.

The rest of security finally arrived to confiscate the knife and the nazi. Steve let him up, holding his own hands out while they hauled him away.

At that point, no one could blame Eddie for the scorching kiss that followed.

"Well," said Eddie into the mic, once Steve was safely offstage. "That was fuckin' hot, right?"

The cheers that followed were almost as deafening as the music.

#steddie #stranger things #my fic #ficlet #steve learns to kick ass better as time goes on

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malereader-inserts · 2 years

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Woe From Wit

Fandom: Wednesday Pairing: Wednesday Addams & Brother!Reader Summary: Wednesday has a few favourites, including you. Word Count: 1,078 A/n: Requests are back open for a short while! Request me some Wednesday stuff, I binged watched it so it's currently on my radar.

"Please try and enjoy Nevermore, my little reaper," Gomez says, looking at his daughter, just before leaving the school, "Don't forget your brother also attends here."

"How can I forget?" Wednesday replies, though her face may not show it, there was a comfort to knowing that her brother was here within the buildings and she hadn't seen you for so long that she had missed you.

It was a shame that your family had missed you, but in Wednesday's tour of the school, she had not seen you around. Pugsley was unbearable, in Wednesday's opinion, that he was whining that he had not seen you.

The first day, there was no sight of you at all. You hide well, Wednesday think. She found herself somewhat enjoying her first day, despite Enid being annoying and other people insufferable.

"Why do you sit with me?" Wednesday asked, looking to Enid in the dining hall, her eyebrow raised.

"Because I'm your roomie!" Enid replies, "Plus, I don't want you to be alone."

"I would prefer to be alone."

Enid sighed, though she doesn't give up that easily as the two of them heard a chuckle behind them. The two of them turn around to the presence behind them.

"Oh! (Y/n)!" Enid greeted you, out lookers looking at you.

Bianca and the sirens perking up at the sight of you, Xavier from his spot stops to watch the scene play out. But, what shocked everyone that Wednesday Addams smiled, they were convinced that she was unable to do so. But, that smile was only reserved for a few people her favourite Uncle and her favourite brother.

"Wait, you guys know each other?" Enid asked, her eyes darting back and forth between Wednesday and you.

"Of course, Enid," You say, patting your sister's head, "Wednesday is my little sister."

"By a few months," Wednesday clarified as you snort, "I did wonder when you will show your face, you hide well."

Enid was completely baffled at the siblings in front of her, Wednesday was completely different to you, personality wise anyway. Clothing, on the other hand, was similar, it seemed like Addam's family was granted special circumstances to be the only one wearing a black uniform and when out of uniform, the two of you wore only black.

But, personality, Wednesday was stoic, but you were inviting and was well known in the school as charming and always wanting to help people.

"I wondered when you will show up," You say, putting your hand in your pockets, "It was inevitable that you would be here."

"I won't be here for long."

"I said the same thing a few years ago, and yet here I am."

"Well, I'm not like you, (Y/n)," Wednesday says, biting her tongue back from calling you weak - she knows you are a lot stronger emotionally and physically, "You fit it, I do not."

"You'll see eventually that you fit in with the crowd of outcasts."

"Tell me about my brother."

Enid looked up from her magazine, as she was on her bed, she noticed Wednesday had turned around from her seat at the desk.

"I thought (Y/n) would write to you?"

"I would like an outsider's perspective."

"Well, (Y/n) is... let's say Bianca's equal," Enid thoughtfully says, sitting up slightly, "He's popular and everyone kinda flocks to him. He's super nice and he has a way with words, but everyone knows he isn't a siren either - you can tell with his eyes, obvs."

"Hm," Wednesday turns around, looking at her typewriter.

"Xavier and he are like really close, you could even say they're best friends. Bianca and (Y/n) almost had a history of dating, but there are rumours that him and Kent had a secret relationship."

"Kent?"

"The other siren that hangs with Bianca, the guy with long hair?" Enid asked her, eyebrow raised as if Wednesday should know this information, "He has a twin as well, Davina?"

"Yes, I recall."

"Anyway! He's also mysterious, like unsettling mysterious. I should have known that you two were related, you guys have the same vibe," Enid shrugs her shoulder, "But, I'm sure he has other things he'll show you in the school, he knows an ungodly amount of information about the school."

"That's my brother for you," Wednesday spoke, her back still facing Enid, "That is one thing he is useful for is that he is smarter than me, he knows his way around things."

"People say he's principal Weem's eyes when she cannot see everything, that's how she knows what's going on around the school."

"My brother is no snitch," Wednesday declared, "And if he is, he's using her for his advantage, and I wonder why."

"I cannot believe I'm saying this," Wednesday sighed, looking at you, as you raised your eyebrow when Thing crawled into view, "Yes, Thing is here because our parents wanted it to watch me."

"Understandable," You replied easily, leaning back on your seat as you eye your sister, suspiciously, "What did you want?"

"I need your help."

"Interesting."

"Please do not mock me, this is humiliating as it is," Wednesday snapped at you, you merely smile at her, "I need help with something about a prophecy, Rowan's mother drew this-"

She hands you the picture, you examine it carefully and it was no doubt that you were seeing your dear sister in the picture. You raised an eyebrow as you handed it back, and you motion her to continue.

"And I need to stop this from happening or better yet, save this school from it."

"You care about the school? A few weeks ago, you didn't care for this place and you were trying to escape, what's the change of heart?"

"You're insufferable,"

"Naturally," You answered cooly, sat up and huffed, "But, the family helps family, but, when are you going to tell mother that you've been having visions."

"How-"

"I know more than you think, Wednesday, you're not the only psychic in this family nor in this school."

"Do you have visions?" She asked you after a beat of silence, you shake your head.

"Think of Rowan, his ability to use telekinesis, I'm that type of psychic, I guess that'll come in handy in your little investigation," You clapped your hand, "Speaking of which, indulge me with the information, I have a feeling we're going to have a great time together this year."

Wednesday smiles.

"I must agree with that."

#x male reader #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday #platonic #wednesday imagine

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ktkellart · 29 days

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Good Omens London Trip 🐍💞🪽

It's my Birthday today and I treated myself to a trip to London last weekend to see my favourite actor Michael Sheen in Nye at the National Theatre. I made the most of my weekend by combining it with a Good Omens filming location self-tour and I'd love to share it with you all. So, are you ready for the tour?

Here we go!

Starting off with Soho, and the inspiration for Whickber Street, where Aziraphale's bookshop, Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, The Small Back Room, and the Dirty Donkey are located.

It’s Berwick Street and a record shop that is very similar in shape to A.Z Fell & Co. Bonus points for spotting Duck Lane!

Next is Berkeley Square, a short walk from Soho. The first two photos are of the real Berkeley Square gardens in Mayfair, and the last two photos were taken in the filming location of Tavistock Square across the other side of central London near Kings Cross. I’m sitting on their ‘body swap’ bench in the last photo!

As you can see, the benches are turned around facing inwards now but are the other way, facing outwards in Good Omens.

Oh, and I can confirm that there were no nightingales singing in either location 😭

Heading up the road a few minutes from Tavistock Square to The Enterprise pub where I met a fellow fan who kindly took photos of me posing (I bet the staff thought we were off our rockers!). This is where Crowley drowns his sorrows in Talisker Whisky whilst waiting for the world to end after thinking he'd lost Aziraphale. Omg that poor poor demon, he was really just gonna die along with the world.

Also, one of my favourite moments of season 1 is Crolwey's line: "I heard that. It was the wiggle-on..." then shrugs. 😆 So many emotions in such short a time.

Onto the Ritz. The first two photos are of the real Ritz (a stone's throw from Berkeley Square) and the last one is inside Masala Zone in Piccadilly Circus where the ‘Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol’ and ‘To the World’ scenes were filmed.

I ate in here alone to get the photo and was so lucky with the table I was given! Perfect discreet snap whilst eating my curry! Haha!

Next up is Battersea Park and the Bandstand. It was a bit of a faff to get there, it's an 8-minute walk from the Battersea Power Station underground and we walked the full length of the park to find the Bandstand, but it was so worth it.

Also filmed here was Gabriel and Aziraphale’s run/jog. Poor Angel is soft scene.

The trees were a little leafier with it being mid-May and the park was very busy because the weather was glorious. They also have a beautiful lake here with herons!

The Heaven & Hell staircase escalators are right over the east side of London in Broadgate Tower, Bishopsgate. I got the overground to Liverpool Street station to get there. It is in a private business building so I politely/awkwardly asked the receptionist if I could take a photo and had to explain about the scene from Good Omens… eek! But he kindly let me snap a photo anyway! (Phew)

The Windmill Theatre was three minutes away from my hotel in Piccadilly Circus, so I wandered up the road to take a photo of where Aziraphale ‘performed on the West End stage’ as Fell the Marvelous. And wasn’t he just?

The scenes weren't filmed here but it was fun to find it anyway.

St James’s Park is up next! I sat on their bench and got my friend to take photos of me posing and had fun editing the first photo. Haha! We enjoyed walking through the park, watching the ducks on the lake and had a nosey at Buckingham Palace while we were there.

The Duke of York Statue steps are at the other end of St James's Park and were fun to walk up. I smiled to myself as I thought of the scene where Crowley says ‘Well let's have lunch? Hmm,’ and Aziraphale turns around, as it was the first time I realised that these two were more than just friends.

Heaven’s top floor, the Sky Garden in Fenchurch Street near Monument is a very tall building with a botanical garden on the top floor. You can visit the sky garden for free, but you do need to book in advance so it’s best to plan ahead for this one. The views of London are breathtaking from the 35th floor and the tropical plants are fun.

My last stop for this visit was Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. I booked a tour on the morning I was due to go home. The first tour is 10 am and lasts an hour, so I dashed off as soon as the tour guide was uttering his last words about the gift shop, across London back to Kings Cross to pick up my suitcase from luggage storage and get the 11:48 am train home!

One I missed and could have easily gone to is Abingdon Street where Newton and Shadwell meet, and Shadwell fleeces Newton for a cup of tea with nine sugars and pockets the change. A bit gutted I missed it to be honest – I love Jack Whitehall (I’m back in London with the family in June so I’ll swing by and update then!)

There are also some other locations a little further afield that I might try to visit on a later date, such as Shadwell's and Madam Tracy's flat down Hornsey Road in Islington, Crowley's Flat exterior in Eastfields Avenue, Best Cafe on Garratt Lane where Crowley meets Shadwell, Crystal Palace Dinosaur Park where the ineffable husbands watch Warlock defacing a dinosaur sign and Antonella's Cafe and Bistro where Crowley and Aziraphale are thinking of ideas to track down the antichrist whist Aziraphale eats cake.

Okay, I’m gonna finish up with the man himself. The very kind, very charming, and VERY patient Michael Sheen The reason for my London visit in the first place. Nye was spectacular OBviOUsLy, but he was super generous with his time at stage door for us all. I got a hug and asked him to pass it on to Aziraphale (that angel really needs a hug) and it made him laugh, which made my night!

Here’s the wonderful map I used -

from this website:

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atlabeth · 1 year

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leave the door open - anthony lockwood

summary: no matter what happens, there's always the light underneath the door. the sign that, when you're ready, he'll let you back in with open arms.

a/n: obviously inspired by leave the door open by silk sonic because i could (and have) listen to it on repeat for hours. this spiraled way out of control but im honestly really happy with it and i hope you all are too!

wc: 8.2k

warning(s): mild angst, arguing, hurt/comfort, mildly serious injury, short scene with a gun/gunshot wound, but the whole first half of the fic is fluff and it is all wrapped up w a fluffy ending

127.

128.

129.

13–

Your focus was broken as police sirens blared past your window, and you let out a long-lasting sigh. This was the fifth time your count had been interrupted, and you weren’t starting over again.

Trying to sleep was a fruitless endeavor at this point, and that wasn’t going to change no matter how many notches in the wall you counted—you might as well accept it.

You’d never been much for sleeping through the night, but your new home boded worse for it all. A new room, a new house, a new city, a new agency. Being in the thick of it all after what felt like so long on your own was overwhelming, and it still felt like it could all fall apart. Being given the job all because you passed a few tests in the living room didn’t exactly feel like security.

You sighed as you slipped on a sweatshirt and walked out of the attic— your room, at least for now— carefully moving down the steps in an effort to not make much noise.

35 Portland Row was filled with warmth, that much was obvious from your short time here, but that warmth had not yet penetrated your skin. It was all too foreign.

You meant to go to the kitchen and make a midnight cup of tea, but your eyes were drawn to a slightly open door, light spilling out in the cracks. The library, if you remembered correctly from Lockwood’s tour.

It must have been George. You didn’t know much about him, but the way Lockwood described him certainly made him seem like the type to be up pouring over books until the early hours of the morning.

It wouldn’t hurt to say hi. Let him know that they’d added another restless soul into their agency.

You pushed the door open a bit more, knocking on the wall as you leaned against the door frame, and your eyebrows rose slightly when the boy looked up.

“Lockwood,” you said, tamping down on your surprise.

He said your name with a slight smile and a bow of his head. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You nodded. “Have you got room for one more?”

“Always,” he said with a gesture at the seat across from him.

You closed the door behind you and took the offered chair, glancing down at the papers in front of him. “What’s got you up?”

“Bills,” he said dryly. “The mortgage, the utilities, our certification, and now—” he looked at you— “another agent on the payroll.”

“I’ll be sure to try and bring in more than you spend on me,” you said, and he smiled as he set his pen down.

“How thoughtful.” Lockwood laced his fingers together before he leveled his gaze fully at you. “And what’s got you up?”

“Just what I said,” you answered with a shrug. “I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t gotten used to this place yet.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t take too long, because you’re going to hit the ground running,” Lockwood said. “We’ve got a meeting tomorrow with a client, and if all goes well we’ll be having tea with a Visitor by noon.”

“Honestly, that would make me feel like I fit in more,” you said. “I’m much better with the ‘nearly dying’ part of this job than the settling in part.”

He cracked a small smile. “I’m hoping we’ll avoid that part, especially with your help.”

Your eyebrows rose. “You’ve got that much faith in me?”

“I assumed you knew the amount of faith I have in you when I hired you,” Lockwood joked. “Your Touch is just what we’ve been missing.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me,” you said. “There’s always uncertainty about freelance agents because we work on our own, but I promise I’ll try my best to merge back into a group.”

“Like I said,” Lockwood’s eyes twinkled, “I’ve got full faith in you.”

You chuckled and nodded, and you tapped the desk before you stood up. “I’ll leave you to your devices. Thank you for the talk, Lockwood.”

“Try and get some sleep,” Lockwood said. “After all, tomorrow is when you prove yourself.”

“Ah,” you said sagely. “Tomorrow will determine whether I have a job or I’m back on the streets.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he said, and he looked wholly genuine. “You’re part of Lockwood & Co now, and we take care of our own.”

You nodded, your lips quirking into a small smile. It had been a long time since someone had so clearly said to you that they would watch out for you— that they saw you as more than just your Touch.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

Lockwood nodded, his expression turning slightly wry. “Besides, the only real reason I think I’d fire you is if you got us all killed.”

“You can’t fire me if we’re all dead.”

“I suppose that means you’re thoroughly employed,” Lockwood said with a smile.

You chuckled. “Good to know.”

“Truly, though, try and get some sleep.” He picked up his pen again, clicking it a few times. “We might be London’s smallest agency, but we take cases the likes of Fittes would handle.”

“As long as you try and get some too,” you said.

Lockwood smiled, but there was a notable absence of a promise. “Goodnight.”

“Are you always in the library?” you asked suddenly. “Because I— I find myself awake a lot at night. It would be nice to know when you’re open to chat and when you just want to be alone.”

He nodded. “I’ll leave the door open for you. Just like tonight.”

You stared at him for a moment more, taking in his slightly ruffled hair, his undone tie and rolled up sleeves. The dark circles under his eyes.

“Perfect,” you responded softly. “Goodnight, Lockwood.”

"Goodnight," he repeated, that same small smile on his lips.

You closed the door behind you.

You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

It was another two weeks until your next sleepless night.

Kept busy with countless cases, you were exhausted near every time you stumbled back through the doors of Portland Row. Part of it was from adjusting back into an agency after being on your own for so long, the other part was the seriously intense jobs that Lockwood kept taking.

And you did adjust, that was true.

You didn’t know if you and George were exactly friends, but he allowed you to help when he cleaned up in the kitchen, and you’d already spent a few afternoons in the archives together—today had been the best, him sharing all the material he found with you and willing to listen to your theories and look at your notes. He was warming up to you, at least.

Lockwood was completely different. He exuded charm, all easy smiles and plying words meant to get someone’s guard down. It was how he operated, how he had to live—everyone underestimated him so he took it upon himself to prove everyone wrong. His name was on the door, after all, as he liked to remind you all.

Maybe that was why he was always up, you thought, because as you slowly moved down the stairs, rubbing grogginess out of your eyes, you noticed that the light was on in the library again. Door slightly cracked open.

You huffed a laugh before you knocked on the frame again, pushing it open to see Lockwood in almost the exact same position as last time. Instead of a variety of papers, though, he was hunched over a map.

He said your name, a small smile already pulling at his lips. “So we meet again.”

“We live in the same house,” you said wryly, “and we work together.”

“All the more reason to be thankful that you put up with me past billing hours,” Lockwood said. You chuckled, and he gestured at the chair across from him. “Take a seat.”

You did, and you tapped your fingers on the table before you took a look at the map. “What’s got you up so late?”

“I’m scouting out a potential job,” he said. “A very old, very haunted mansion owned by a very rich family.”

“I like the sound of that,” you mused.

“So do I.” That spark was in his eye again, and you found yourself watching him as he talked. “The patriarch called me last night, and I met with him and his wife while you and George were at the archives today. He offered the job of clearing his ancestral home, and I told him I would get back to him after I consulted my colleagues.”

“Colleagues,” you hummed. “I like the sound of that too.”

Lockwood chuckled. “I thought after freelancing for so long you would be against working so closely with a team.”

You shrugged. “I needed a change. You lot have been a pretty good one.”

“It’s certainly an honor,” Lockwood said with mock austerity, and you rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Just get on with it, Lockwood.”

He nodded, and he pushed the map over to you. “I was going to lay it all out for you two tomorrow morning, but since you’re here, I might as well get your opinion on it.”

You took a moment to fully examine it. “Well, it’s certainly very big.” You glanced back up at Lockwood. “How much are they willing to pay?”

He smiled. “Fifty thousand pounds.”

Your eyes about burst out of your head, and you slid the map back over to him. “That’s all I need to hear. I’m in.”

Lockwood laughed and he took it back from you. “You don’t even know anything else about it. You could be walking into a death trap.”

“Every job I did on my own was a possible death trap, and none of them were for fifty thousand pounds,” you said. “I’m in—I don’t care if half of England is haunting that house.”

His smile faded a bit, and he cleared his throat as he looked you in the eye. “You know, you haven't talked much about why you were a freelance agent. Even during the interview.”

Your brows furrowed at the sudden question and you shrugged. “I wanted to be.”

“Everyone knows it’s a lot more dangerous than being in an agency,” Lockwood said. “Ghosts are hard enough to deal with in a group— going on your own is asking for trouble.”

“Before I came in, it was just you and George,” you countered. “You’ve got no supervisors, just the two of you hoping for the best. I’d say that’s asking for trouble.”

“You’re deflecting,” Lockwood said.

You glanced away, finally letting out a sigh as you leaned back in your chair.

“You don’t have to—”

“Because from the moment I discovered my Talent, I’ve heard horror stories from agencies. Entire teams going down on doomed missions, sole survivors left to live with the guilt for the rest of their lives. It happened to one of the teams in my agency, and I knew I wasn’t going to wait for it to happen to me.”

Lockwood’s eyes softened, and he stayed silent as you continued.

“I have no team, I have no roommates—when I’m on my own, no one has to worry about me,” you said quietly. “If something goes wrong, and I die, that’s it. No guilt, no problems, no legal trouble. No mourners.”

Lockwood frowned. “That’s not a very good way to look at it.”

“Never said it was,” you said wryly. “It’s just the way I look at it.”

“Your family would care.”

You shook your head. “They wouldn’t.”

He was silent for a good moment, and then he reached over and took your hand. It was a shock at first, your eyes widening slightly as they darted up to meet his, but he was calm as ever.

“You’ve got us now,” he said. “Lockwood & Co. Me and George. And we’d care very much if you were to die, so I’d appreciate it if you refrained from that.”

That got a watery laugh out of you, and you felt the beginnings of tears behind your eyes for some reason. “I don’t think that was in my contract.”

“It was in the fine print,” Lockwood assured. He looked so much younger when he smiled, like he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“That changes everything then.” Your voice was slightly stilted as you pulled away, and you turned slightly as you wiped at your eyes so he couldn’t see. If Lockwood noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Try and get some sleep,” he murmured. “If George is on board, we’ve got a very long day tomorrow.”

You nodded, clearing your throat as you stood up. “You too. Can’t go into battle without our fearless leader.”

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes never leaving you as you walked to the door. You paused, setting your hand on the frame, and turned around.

“Thank you, Lockwood,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I mean it.”

He smiled, and you found yourself lost in it for a moment. He really was beautiful. “Any time.”

And so your days continued on as a certified member of Lockwood & Co, becoming more integrated by the hour.

It wasn’t much longer before George took to you, and when you found a break in a case that saved you hours of potential digging through the archives, your spot as ‘respected colleague and potential friend’ was cemented.

Lockwood already knew more about you than most, putting him in the ‘weird friend, weird boss’ category. The man literally never slept, and all the information he knew about you was willingly given to him through late night vulnerability. You needed to start forcing yourself to stay in bed, if not solely to keep some secrets between you.

But— yeah, he was nice. Easy to joke around with, easy to work with, easy on the eyes. You’d smiled and laughed more in a single month at Portland Row than you had in three years as a freelance agent. Far better than the lonely studio apartment you holed up in between cases.

The warmth was beginning to penetrate your skin, you thought with a slight smile.

“What in the world are you doing?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice. You looked up from the baking sheet to see Lockwood waiting in the doorway with a small smile.

“Stress baking,” you said with a slight chuckle as you continued scooping dough onto the tray.

“At two in the morning?”

You shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, and extra research wasn’t doing me any good. I had to get the nerves out somehow, and unless I fancied a nice bout with a Visitor, I couldn’t exactly go for a run.”

“So you decided on cookies instead,” he said wryly. “You know, you really should try and get more sleep.”

“Says you.” You finished filling up the tray and you picked it up, glancing at Lockwood as you walked over to the oven. “Every night that I’m up, you’re up too. That’s got to be unhealthy.”

“I’m a busy man,” he responded. “I can’t have half of my employees running around sleep deprived.”

You chuckled. “Good to know you care.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Always.”

“But you have to care about yourself, too.” You shut the oven and set a timer on your watch, then gestured at the counter where an already finished tray sat. “Try one.”

“Sugar so close to bed?” he joked.

“Oh, please,” you brushed your hand through the air, “we both know you’re not falling asleep any time soon.”

Lockwood cracked a smile as he walked over, picking up a cookie from the sheet. “Chocolate chip?”

“The best,�� you confirmed.

He took a bite and he hummed as his eyebrows rose. “Surprisingly good,” he said after he swallowed.

“‘Surprisingly’?” you repeated. “Why can’t they just be normally good?”

“You may have noticed, but George is our resident chef.” Lockwood finished the rest of the cookie, much to your silent delight, and he went to the fridge. “I’m just surprised we’ve got two culinary experts on the team now.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “I’m not anywhere near an expert. I’m much better at baking than cooking, so George has that market cornered.”

Lockwood smiled, and he finished his cup of water. “He’ll be happy to know that. He’d probably love to share some of his recipes with you.”

“I’d love that more,” you said. “His halva the other day was incredible.”

“I’ll let him know. Of course,” his eyes twinkled, “he’d probably be more flattered if you told him yourself. If there’s one thing he’s prouder of than his work in the archives, it’s his work in the kitchen.”

“I’ll be sure to,” you agreed.

“Are you going to sleep anytime soon?” Lockwood asked as usual.

As usual, you rolled your eyes, bit back your smile. “I’ve got two more trays worth of dough. I promise I’ll go after they’re done.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Do you also promise to leave some for us?”

You laughed. “Of course. I didn’t make them just for stress relief, you know.”

“Good,” Lockwood repeated. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. The later morning, rather.”

“You get some sleep too,” you said, pointing your spatula at him, “or else all of these are going to George.”

He placed his fist over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“Good. Now get out of here.”

Lockwood chuckled as he walked out, spurring a smile of your own. You picked up a cookie and took a bite, humming in approval at the taste.

“Normally good,” you murmured to yourself as you watched the oven. “Not surprisingly good.”

(When Lockwood came down the next morning, there were two plates of cookies sitting on the counter. He moved to take one, but then he noticed the Post-its.

One read GEORGE and one read LOCKWOOD, each in front of their own separate plates. There was another at the top—NO STEALING :) or I will never make cookies again

He chuckled, his mind wandering to you as he finally took one—from his plate, of course—and bit into it.

Normally good, he thought with a slight smile.

A fine addition to the team indeed.)

You yawned as you walked down the hallway, rubbing at your groggy eyes. You couldn’t sleep, as was per usual when you were working on such a big case, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

Your mind ran a thousand kilometers a minute any time you even tried to close your eyes. Truly, you had no idea how George functioned with a brain like his.

You were about to go into the kitchen to make yourself your usual midnight cup of tea, hoping it would work its usual magic, when you saw the door to the library cracked open.

You couldn’t help but smile. He’d told you and George to go to bed early to make sure you were all ready for the job the next day, and here he was. Restless as ever and still a liar.

You pushed the door the rest of the way open, blinking a bit at the lights as you leaned against the frame. “Up late again, Lockwood?” you asked, and he started when he turned to you and said your name.

“You should be asleep,” he said.

“So should you.”

“I’m looking over the floorplans one last time,” Lockwood said. “This place is huge, and I want to make sure I know every part of it.”

“We’ve drilled the exits a thousand times,” you said. “We already know the mansion inside out—cramming at midnight isn’t going to help anyone. Actually being rested for once will.”

Lockwood gave you a wry look. “Awfully strong words coming from you.”

“I was going to the kitchen to make some tea,” you defended. “And then I was going to go right back to sleep.”

He smiled as he looked at you, and then he nodded and stood up. “Alright. Come on.”

You raised your eyebrows as Lockwood started walking, and then he took your hand and started pulling you along.

“Oh my god,” you said with a laugh, “I can walk on my own.”

All he said was, “I know,” in that annoyingly cocky tone of his, and you continued following him as you went up the stairs. When he pulled open the door of his room, you

“Neither of us are very good at staying asleep,” Lockwood said wryly, “and I really don’t trust you to get enough in the face of tomorrow. So…”

“You think sleeping in the same bed will help,” you surmised.

He shrugged. “At the very least, I’ll be able to make sure you do fall asleep.”

“Then the same goes for you.”

“Obviously.”

You stared at him for a moment. You didn’t exactly… know what to do.

The words rushed out of his mouth. “Of course if you don’t want to—”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “No, it’s alright. I want to.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Alright.”

You pulled back the covers, clearing your throat as you took your side and Lockwood took his after turning the lamp off. You didn’t know why this was so awkward, sharing a bed with the boy you’d worked with for the past few months, but it was. You’d faced down countless ghosts together, but this was apparently too much.

“Your bed’s comfortable,” you said, desperate to break the silence. You stared at his wall, your back turned to him, Lockwood in the same position.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t know how you’re ever not sleeping through the night with a mattress like this.”

Lockwood chuckled. “Sight isn’t my only talent.”

You smiled. “Very true.”

“Why are you always up?” he asked. “I know my old bed isn’t the most comfortable, but it seems you’re always up.”

“It seems you’re always up.”

“Deflecting,” he said. Your mind flashed back to the first night in the library.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I’ve always been a restless person, but being an agent has just… worsened it. I had a couple of bad months working on my own and I don’t think I’ve fully recovered.”

“Ah.” You could feel his breathing in the slight shifts of the bed, and it was oddly comforting. “I hope that we haven’t made it worse.”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “If anything, you’ve made it better. Portland Row is the embodiment of warmth, and you two are fantastic.”

“Well, we aren’t going anywhere,” Lockwood assured. “...I’m not going anywhere. So if you ever need anything, please tell us.”

Your voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

Your sleepless nights varied in frequency as the months went on.

Sometimes you were so exhausted when you staggered through the doors of Portland Row that you felt as if you could sleep the night away on the couch. Other times, despite being worked to the bone from a difficult job, you would find yourself staring up at the ceiling of your room, unable to get the visions from the day out of your head.

That was the lovely thing about Touch. The way you saw it, you gave a small part of yourself over each time you used it, and once you got it back, the things you’d seen were embedded in it—in you. It was awfully difficult to separate yourself from your jobs when you threw yourself so fully into it, when you had no other choice but to do so.

Lockwood and George had become accustomed to how deep you felt things. When you needed to be alone after a job, when you needed one of them to talk nonstop to keep you distracted, when you just needed to sit with them in silence and be assured that this too would pass, no matter how slow. That was the nicest thing about being part of the group—you didn’t have to lick your wounds on your own.

When it got really bad—and sometimes it did—you and Lockwood would share his room. His presence was unparalleled in bringing you comfort, and whispered conversations in the dark made you feel some sort of way. He was practically your savior.

When he wasn’t helping you through the night, more often than not, Lockwood would be up at the same hour as you. It was concerning, though you couldn’t say anything about it. He would just throw it back at you, claiming you should be asleep as well. At least George was exempt from the criticism. Bless him.

He found you in a lot of positions. Sitting on the floor of the kitchen scrubbing furiously at the plasm stains on your boots. Sitting on the floor of their living room, one of their case files in your lap as you recounted a previous case. Sitting on the floor of the basement, measuring out salt for bombs and ensuring their flares were stocked. You liked sitting on the floor while you did things, apparently—Lockwood had figured that out after a few weeks of sleepless nights. It was strange.

And of course, the occasional bout of stress baking, ranging from cookies to brownies to pastries and more. You once even baked an entire cake in the middle of the night out of pure anger, the result of a frustrating loss to a Fittes team. Not getting the case hurt a little bit less the next morning when you all had cake to dull the pain.

You found him just as many times. Sometimes getting his own cups of tea in the kitchen, sometimes reading those gossip magazines he was fond of, sometimes doing his own restocks of your supplies. Usually, though, he was just sitting in the library stressed over one thing or another.

You noticed he always tried to hide it from you, covering it with his easy smiles and well-placed jokes. It couldn’t be easy to run an agency as a teenager, no matter how small—you wondered how many restless evenings you would have to share together for him to drop the mask.

Eventually, though, it was decided that another agent was needed. Lockwood and his Sight, you and your Touch, George as an all-arounder—he was your only source for Listening, but it had never been his strong suit. After you nearly got ghost-touched because of that blatant lack of Listening, Lockwood put his foot down and put out an ad.

Enter one Lucy Carlyle: excellent Listener, skilled in Touch, a myriad of opinions. You liked her the moment you met her, her image only sullied by her taking two biscuits. You could hardly blame her though, the way George pushed her. He loved to push.

Due to a lack of rooms but an imminent need for Talent, it was decided that Lucy would room in the attic with you. You were able to get one of the spare beds all the way up to the attic between the four of you, and when you all promptly collapsed on the ground together, it was agreed upon that Lockwood & Company would stick to ghosts. Very good for team bonding, though.

It took Lucy a bit to get used to you, especially in such close quarters, but soon enough you were joking around and talking like you’d known each other for years. You knew she was good, but witnessing her listening was awe-inspiring. You almost couldn’t believe you’d gotten her over Fittes or Atkinson and Armstrong, but you weren’t going to complain. You felt as if your motley crew could do anything.

“I can’t believe he did this,” you seethed.

Well, there were certain things your motley crew did not need to do. Especially your leader.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” Lucy said.

“I can’t believe he did this!” you repeated, louder and more annoyed as you threw yourself against the wall. “How stupid can one boy be?”

“He was trying to save you, y’know,” Lucy said dryly.

“I didn’t need to be saved,” you grumbled. “He did it because he’s reckless and stupid.”

“...That’s fair,” Lucy said after a moment. “He is quite reckless.”

“Don’t forget stupid.”

Her lips twitched for a moment. “Perhaps you shouldn’t speak ill of the injured.”

“That’s just the dead,” you muttered. “And we speak plenty of ill of them.”

This was all because of a job that went wrong. And you were certain it wouldn’t have gone wrong if Lockwood could hold himself back for a moment.

“Are you sure that’s him?” you murmured, disguising your words with your cup of sparkling cider.

“Positive,” Lockwood confirmed. “Arthur Torres, one of Sunrise Corporation’s many useless executives.”

“Lovely.” You finished your drink. “I distract and you steal, right?”

“Actually,” Lockwood said, and you didn’t like that at all, “you steal, I distract.”

Your brows furrowed. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“I make the plans,” he said, “I can change them.”

“Not when we spend hours going over them to ensure they’re flawless,” you said tartly.

“Relax.” He smiled at you, and somehow it managed to carve through your irritation. He slipped the keycard out of his pocket and pressed it into your hand. “I’m very good at improvising.”

“Lockw—” You didn’t have the chance to chastise him the way he deserved before he slipped off, a very convenient waiter filling the space he left before you could dart after him. You scoffed as you placed your empty glass on their tray, your eyes narrowed as you glared at Lockwood from beyond.

He paid no attention to you, not until he made the signal. He ‘accidentally’ bumped into Mr. Torres, spilling his wine all over his jacket, and before the first apology could fall from his lips, you were gone.

You muttered curses under your breath the entire way, slipping past guards and security the best you could on the way to the stairwell. You took them two at a time as you hurried to the fourth floor, and though you were completely out of breath by the time you made it, you were pleased that there were no guards. George said he would have the security cameras disabled before you got there, so you just had to trust in him.

You continued to take in and let out deep breaths as you walked up to the door, and they turned into a sigh of relief when you scanned the keycard and it opened. You heard footsteps behind you and whirled around, your hand flying on instinct for the rapier that wasn’t there, and your eyes widened yet again when you saw it was Lockwood.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hissed.

He held up his hands in defense, as he stopped jogging, and then he brushed out the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “I came to help you.”

“You’re meant to be distracting Mr. Torres,” you said incredulously. “Lockwood, do you even care for the sanctity of plans?”

“I care about your safety,” he said, calm in the face of your anger. “That’s why I’m here.”

“And where is he? Hopefully not in reach of his various guards that could ruin us and our careers at any second.”

“I left him in the washroom,” Lockwood said. “How are you doing?”

You set your jaw, and you sighed as you gestured with your head into the now-open office. “Let’s just find this source so we can get out of here.”

Now came the not-so-legal part, that some may even call theft. Lockwood called it discreetly fixing mistakes, you called it your shoddy morals. Not that you were torn up about stealing from an executive businessman, you just didn’t particularly fancy losing your license over it.

A rich family had hired Lockwood & Co to find and return a source that was important to their family, and of course it was housed by Mr. Torres of the Sunrise Corporation. You’d no idea what it was with wealthy people and their flaunting of sources, but you’d had enough of it. They paid handsomely for the risk though, hence your shoddy morals.

This, honestly, was the easy part. You touched a few things, concentrated until your head hurt, and it led you right to it. Quite disappointing—you didn’t know why the Paladinos would keep a paperweight in the family, and more importantly how it came about to be a source, but that didn’t really matter. It sat on Torres’s desk, surrounded by Sunrise Corporation silver-glass, and just for extra measure Lockwood put it into a metal box of your own. You shoved it into your backpack, and the job was halfway done.

The other half was getting out without being spotted.

The two of you worked quickly to erase all traces of your being there, and soon enough you were hurrying through the halls together.

“That was good work.”

You ignored him.

“The Paladinos’ money will do a lot of good for us.”

You ignored him.

“Seriously. You work well on the fly.”

“We shouldn’t have had to work on the fly,” you finally said bitterly.

“Why are you so mad?” Lockwood asked with a slight laugh. God, his nerve. “It all worked out. We’ve got the source, we’ll get the payment, and we didn’t even have to deal with any Visitors. Torres is still clueless.”

“That’s not the point, Lockwood,” you hissed. You forced your expression back into neutrality as you walked out of the stairwell and back into the midst of the party, and you and Lockwood moved at a normal pace. He offered occasional smiles and nods to people in the crowd, and you both nodded at the guards at the exit when you left.

You couldn’t even relish in your victory, because once you’d gotten out of hearing distance, around the corner where no guards or partygoers could see or hear you, Lockwood stopped you.

“What is the point then?” he asked. “If none of what I said is the point, then what is the point?”

“The point is that you don’t trust me!” you exclaimed.

He immediately frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you even follow me in the first place?” you asked. “It was your decision to switch it up at the last moment, and you couldn’t even follow through with that?”

Lockwood didn’t say anything, and you shook your head.

“You don’t trust me,” you repeated quietly.

He said your name then, a slightly wild look in his eyes as he turned to you. “That’s not it.”

“It is.” A muscle worked in your jaw. “Because if you thought I could do it, you would have let me do it instead of risking both of our lives. You wouldn’t have switched our roles in the first place.”

“Torres was suspicious,” he insisted. “He— he was saying things, talking about how he had to make his guards check on his office. He’s a paranoid man, and you could have been in much more danger if I hadn’t abandoned him.”

“That is bullshit!” you exclaimed. “God, it was your bloody idea in the first place! Is it suddenly not good enough? Am I not good enough?”

“That is not what this is about,” Lockwood snapped.

“Then what is it about?” you marveled. “Why did you switch roles in the first place? You’ve told me I could talk my way out of anything, but when the time comes, you shake things up for no reason. For no reason, Lockwood.”

“People know my face better than they know yours,” Lockwood said. “Torres was more willing to talk with the head of a rising agency, you were able to slip around easier because of who you are.”

“Why didn’t you think of that before we were in the thick of it all?” you asked incredulously, and you laughed. “I’ve saved your life multiple times, Lockwood, and you’ve done the same for me. You talk me up all the time to my face, saying I’m what this agency was missing, that I’m part of your family, that— that you’ll never let me go. But that’s all it is, isn’t it?” A shaky smile formed for just a moment before it broke. “Just talk.”

Lockwood said your name desperately, but you shook your head. “No. Justify it however you want, but you nearly sabotaged the entire job just because you didn’t have enough faith in me. That’s it.”

“I’m telling you, that’s not it.” He let out a ragged sigh, running a distressed hand through his hair, when he suddenly froze.

“Good evening, sir!” he called, confident as ever, like your argument hadn’t just happened. “We’re just—”

His voice broke off mid sentence, and then he yelled your name. You whirled around.

It was a guard, and he was armed. He must have spotted you when you were leaving the office, or maybe George had missed a camera and he’d seen your thievery—there were about a thousand things that could have gone wrong. For a split second, you stared down the barrel of the gun. Funny how you’d stared down what felt like hundreds of ghosts, and a bit of metal was what had you frozen.

The guard pulled the trigger.

Lockwood lunged.

You screamed.

“He’s lucky DEPRAC didn’t find the source in my bag,” you muttered. “They already interrogated me to hell and back while he was in the hospital. Luckily, it usually doesn’t look too good when an adult shoots a teenager and can hardly defend himself against it.”

“The bloke deserved to be fired,” Lucy said. “A paperweight is certainly not worth shooting someone over.”

“And it’s certainly not worth getting shot for,” you added.

“It’s kind of funny,” Lucy said offhandedly. “He’s the one that got shot for you, and yet he’s apologizing to you.”

“Because it’s his fault that he got us in that situation in the first place!” you exclaimed. You winced as your words sunk in, and you looked over at Lucy. “That was too harsh, wasn’t it?”

“...A bit,” she admitted.

You sighed dramatically and hit your head against the side of the wall. “I’m acting like a child.”

“A bit.”

“I just don’t know how he expects me to face him,” you said. “I’ve been working with him for the better part of a year, and somehow he still doesn’t trust me.”

“I… don’t think that’s it,” Lucy said.

“How could it not be it?” you said. “He wouldn’t have acted like he did if he trusted me.”

She shrugged. “Have you thought that it’s because he cares about you?”

“He cares about all of us, Luce.”

“He cares about you more,” she said plainly. “In a different way.”

Your head whipped towards her, and you stared at her for a good five seconds. “You are not saying what I think you’re saying.”

“If you think I’m saying it, it’s for good reason,” she said.

“We are colleagues,” you said slowly. “Nothing less, nothing more.”

Lucy said your name with a slight laugh. “He took a bullet for you.”

“He shuffled our assignments because he didn’t trust me,” you said.

“He shuffled your assignments because he was worried about you,” she countered. “He didn’t want you with Torres because if you were found out, Lockwood didn’t want him to remember your face. And he abandoned his post because he was worried about you, that something would go wrong and he wouldn’t be there to help.”

You stared at her before you continued your pacing. “You’re insane. You’re kicked out of the agency.”

“I’m right,” she said wryly. “And may I remind you again that he took a bloody bullet for you?”

“I’ve already given him that,” you said. “I lost my damn mind when it happened—almost tore the guard apart with my bare hands. I freaked out the entire way to the hospital with him.”

“And now you’re almost completely ignoring him,” Lucy said. “Face it: you like him. You just don’t want to admit it because it would mean having an actual conversation with him about it all rather than pacing a hole in the floor.”

“You’re wrong.” You huffed and leaned back against the wall. “You’re wrong.”

Lucy sighed and she offered a faint smile as she stood up. “You take some time to realize all this. I’m stealing George for an Arif’s run.”

“Leaving us alone,” you said flatly, staring ahead as she walked out. “You’re not clever, Lucy Carlyle!”

“Thank you!” she called with a laugh, and you hit your head against the wall once more when she closed the door behind her.

Sometimes you really hated your friends.

It wasn’t like you were avoiding Lockwood. That would be cruel.

Stupid as he was, he got shot, and he got shot for you. Avoiding him would be ridiculous.

You were just… strategically not talking to him.

And that was arguably worse, yes, letting him see you but not deigning to say a single thing to him that wasn’t business related.

It was even worse than worse because you’d inadvertently proven Lucy right. If this were any normal annoyance between friends, like the squabbles you and George were prone to or the bouts that your boys got into over patience and its virtues, it wouldn’t be this strong.

You’d held grudges against Lockwood before. When he forgot to soak your boots overnight so you had to go into an important job with plasm stains, when he ate the strawberry sprinkled donut just to spite you, when you and George were still in rocky territory and he made you marathon the archives with him for nine hours straight.

All of those, annoying as they were, were forgiven rather quickly. And yes, maybe this grudge was especially strong because of the severity of his injury, but…

You could admit it. Normal people didn’t hold grudges over their best friend throwing themselves in front of them to prevent them from getting shot. Normal people were thankful. Normal people could talk about their feelings when they realized it was the reason for their strife.

You, apparently, were not normal. And neither was anyone in this bloody agency, because nobody deigned to make it any easier for you.

Perhaps it was a bit stupid on your part, but you walked down to the kitchen anyway. You needed some tea to clear your mind. Instead, you were met with a half-shirtless Lockwood.

“Ah,” he said your name, looking up from his spot against the counter, “nice of you to finally grace me with your presence.”

“What are you doing?” you asked. It was almost embarrassing—you were meant to be holding a grudge and ignoring your feelings, and instead you were staring at him like a girl in primary school. Remarkable how quickly you forgot your objectives.

“The doctor said I had to redress my wound every day for the first week,” he said. “Lucy and George just went out, so I figured I would do it now.”

Your brows furrowed. “How do you feel?”

“Better now that you’re here,” he said. Lucy’s words pounded in your ears. “I don’t think you avoiding me is good for my health.”

You bit your lip and remained silent. Rocky territory, this was.

“It’s alright if you just want to stand there.” Lockwood grimaced a bit as he pressed the alcohol-soaked pad to his wound. “Moral support is very helpful.”

Remarkable how quickly the dam broke. You sighed and closed the distance, holding out your hand when you stopped a few meters in front of him. “Give it to me.”

Lockwood’s eyebrows rose.

“Give it to me,” you repeated. “I’ve dealt with many of my own wounds over the years. It’ll be a lot faster if I do it for you.”

His lips quirked into a slight smile as he handed the cloth over. “This is better than moral support.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You couldn’t help the small smile of your own as you started to dab at the surrounding blood on his chest, innately aware of your proximity but trying your best to ignore it. “This doesn’t look too bad, honestly.”

“I was shot,” he said dryly. “I think I deserve a few style points for that.”

“You’ve already earned them all, Lockwood.”

“That makes sense.” You felt his eyes on you as you continued to work, pointedly ignoring his gaze. “You know, they didn’t take the bullet out. Said it would be worse to take it out, and it’s not causing any problems inside. So I’ve got a bullet in me now.”

Your brows furrowed. “Interesting.”

“Indeed. I’ll be going off in airports for the rest of my life.”

Your fingers hovered over his chest for a moment, and you pulled away with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

It was his turn to frown. “What for?”

“For—” you let out another sigh, rougher this time. “For this.”

“It wasn’t your fault I got shot,” he said. “I quite clearly remember pushing you out of the way.”

“I know,” you said. “I— I am quite sorry that you got shot, though.”

“Obviously,” he said coyly, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m sorry for this grudge. It’s probably the stupidest out of all the ones I’ve held against you so far.”

“George keeps a running list,” Lockwood said. “I’m sure we can figure that out.”

“I’m serious.” Your hand lingered on Lockwood’s chest for a moment, his body warmth almost shocking, before you set the cloth down on the counter. You started to put a fresh bandage on, but you finally mustered the strength to look at him. “I was so upset at the thought that you didn’t trust me because your opinion means a lot to me, Lockwood. The way you think of me means a lot to me.” You cleared your throat, averting your eyes for a moment. “You mean a lot to me.”

Lockwood gently tipped your chin back towards him, your eyes meeting his. He really was beautiful—eyes that were softer than ever, his tousled hair, the slope of his jaw. Slightly chapped lips, the bags under his eyes that seemed to be permanent, the weight of the world on his shoulders that seemed to diminish ever so slightly when you were around.

Your Lockwood.

“You mean a lot to me as well,” he said. “Why do you think I reassigned us last minute? Why do you think I took a bullet for you?”

“Because you’re a reckless idiot?”

“Because I panic around you,” he said, “in addition to being a reckless idiot. Whenever we’re on a job, half of my mind is focused on ghosts, and the other half is making sure nothing happens to you. You drive me the best kind of insane.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. You wanted to kiss him more than anything, to root your hands in that tousled hair and make it an even bigger mess. You wanted to make him realize he didn’t have to worry about you, because you weren’t going anywhere without him.

The words stuck in your throat. You finished applying his bandage, and you took a step away.

“Thank you,” you said.

He didn’t look angry or annoyed or irritated—he understood. He understood you.

“Always.”

And it was as simple as that.

It wasn’t really a surprise you couldn’t sleep that night. You hadn’t exactly talked to Lockwood since your show of emotion in the kitchen, embarrassing as it was. You made Lucy check downstairs before you went down for supper, and that was just so you could make the quickest sandwich of your life and immediately hurry back upstairs.

Pathetic, really. You mustered the strength to tell the boy you liked him, he returned it, you ran off and locked yourself in the attic.

And it wasn’t because it was too much. You just… you didn’t know. You might’ve driven Lockwood insane, but he turned you into a complete idiot. It was ridiculous. And you were not ridiculous.

So when night rolled around, when Lucy and George were sound asleep and the ghost lamps flickered on every three minutes and you had only the owls outside your window for company, you knew what you were going to do.

You threw on your sweatshirt, carefully padded across the floor and out the door so as to not wake Lucy, and you went down the stairs.

Surprisingly, you’d never felt calmer.

The light was on in the library. The door was slightly pushed open, the nondescript act that had turned into a beacon for the two of you.

You knocked on the wall before you pushed the door open some more, not waiting for an answer as you leaned against the doorframe.

Lockwood sat in his armchair, a magazine half open but neglected on his lap. His eyes shined the moment you stepped inside.

“Got room for one more?” you asked softly.

Lockwood’s shoulders relaxed, his throat bobbing for a moment before that damn smile pulled at his lips.

“Always.”

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood & co #x reader #reader insert #sadie writes

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twixfamily · 2 years

Text

the first thing i noticed during anya’s house tour for yor is how well decorated and filled with toys her bedroom was

twilight didn’t have to put that much effort into it. the rest of the apartment is nice, but it’s only as much as he needs to appear “normal”. he could’ve just given anya a bed and a desk for her studies, but he painted the walls and put up decorations. he gave her new toys and knick knacks and books so that nearly every surface was covered in clutter. and there’s a good chance that he chose a lot of those items himself.

when he met her she was stuck in a crowded orphanage and has bounced around several families in a very short period of time. the brief glimpse into her past shows us that she was experimented on by people that didn’t seem to acknowledge her needs as a little kid. and within the first few days of living with twilight anya was kidnapped from what should have been a secure place for her to live. so the next place they go he made sure to provide her with a safe space. he allowed her privacy and never stormed in to scold her, so she had no reason to fear her own room.

twilight might be hard on her when they study, but in every scene where he enters anya’s room we see him soften. it’s when she’s most vulnerable, like when she falls asleep at her desk or bawls over the mangled penguin toy. this is the spot that reminds twilight of his daughter’s age, and it grants him a space to discard his mask and recognize his affection for her.

twilight has no idea how to interact with children, but he needs anya to trust him for the sake of the mission. so he gives her what he hasn’t had since his own childhood: a home.

#i could go on forever about the parallels between twilight and anya #she’s just a little kid yanked into a war without warning #and you can see the way it tears him up inside when he considers staying with her beyond the mission #he joined WISE to ensure the happiness of children but when he’s face to face with an actual kid it’s too painful #spy x family #twilight spy x family #loid folger #anya forger

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worldofheroes · 7 months

Text

A New Approach

tom cruise x girlfriend!reader

summary: during filming, you want to try something that ends up making the cut and becomes the most talked about scene.

warnings: fluff, hint of angst in the beginning if you squint

wc: 680

a/n: based on this request by @rveyjules ! ❤️ hope you enjoy!! My fluffy fics are always so short, hope y’all aren’t too mad! I also couldn’t find a pic/gif I liked so here we are 🫣

Tom and McQ were always in their own world when filming. It was difficult for anyone to break through their thoughts and bring them back to reality.

You were missing your boyfriend. You knew there was work to do, but everything had been so serious for the past week of filming. You were tired of it.

You’d go home at night and Tom was occupied with thoughts of how to film something differently or where the story should go. Most nights, you slept alone in your shared king-sized bed as Tom spent all hours in his office working.

You desperately wanted his attention, and you knew just how to do that.

The upcoming scene between you and Tom was emotional and ended in a tight hug between the two characters. Maybe, just maybe, you could convince Tom and McQ to let you do something different with the scene.

“I wanna try something else for this scene,” you tell Tom and McQ after a take.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” Tom asks you, half paying attention to you.

“I just… wanna try something, okay? If you don’t like it, fine,” you say.

Tom looks at you, mind coming back to the present.

“You wanna try something?”

McQ looks over at Tom.

“If you don’t like it, fine. I just want to do one take, that’s all,” you tell them.

“Let’s do one take,” Tom says.

“Okay,” you beam at the two men.

McQ calls action, and you and Tom go through your dialogue.

When it’s time for the hug, you practically leap at Tom, causing him to stumble backwards a couple steps.

Tom instinctively wraps his arms tighter around you as he recovers from the sudden move.

“Cut!” McQ calls out, holding back laughter.

“That might’ve been a little too much, y/n,” Tom chuckles.

You finally have your boyfriend back, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Sorry,” you giggle. “Just wanted to try something new.”

Tom smiles and kisses the top of your head.

A few months later, you are curled up on the couch flipping through the tv channels as Tom works on post-production for the movie.

You hear the door to your condo open.

“Hey sweetheart,” Tom calls out.

“Baby,” you say, getting off the couch immediately to greet him.

Tom wraps you in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you mumble into his chest.

“Remember that take we did where you jumped at me?” Tom asks you.

You laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

“We decided to keep it in the film.”

“What?”

“We just loved that take the most, so we kept it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Tom smiles, kissing you.

“I just did that for fun, nothing serious.”

“The scene needed something like that. It’s gonna go over well with the audience, I promise you.”

You study Tom’s face. “I guess you’ve been producing films longer than I have…”

“You haven’t produced even one,” Tom teases.

“Hey!” you laugh, smacking his chest.

“Just wait, I promise it’ll take well.”

Months after that conversation with Tom, the movie finally released and you were doing a press tour with the cast.

One night in your hotel room, you’re scrolling through social media as Tom finishes getting ready for bed.

As you scroll through the movie’s hashtag, you see the same clip popping up all over the place - the clip of you lunging at Tom.

Every post is saying “if this isn’t how you hug me every day, I don’t want it”.

“Tom,” you say.

“Yes?” he replies.

“People are going crazy over that hug.”

“What did I tell you?”

You smile, setting your phone down and scooting across the bed to watch Tom in the bathroom.

“I know,” you say.

Tom walks out of the bathroom to you. He kisses the top of your head, and taps your legs, wanting you to move.

You scurry into a seated position next to Tom, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he tells you.

“I love you too,” you reply, reaching up to give him a kiss.

#tom cruise x reader #tom cruise imagine #pete mitchell x reader #ethan hunt x reader #maverick x reader #requests

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adaptacy · 7 months

Text

i am obsessing so hard over gale. like, i kid you not, i started out HATING him cause he was eating my artifacts and seemed completely useless in battle. but then i started a second playthru with my bf and i was like 'well im romancing astarion in my main so i GUESS i'll go for the other pretty boy'

....

it was the start of a very, very, very extreme brainrot fest.

so! as I learn more abt him (im in the shadow cursed lands rn, haven't had the sex scene with him yet so i dont know his character super well/im not super confident in portraying him) take this little snippet of wizard angst cause he needs a hug and i wanna give it to him :)

-------

“I reckon it’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Sweet,” he clarified. “And smooth. Dare I say… simple. I must admit, I was somewhat befuddled with the absence of a necessity for complexities; you required no books, no training, no vexatious intricacies– it came naturally.” He remained fixated on a point off in the distance, perhaps watching the quiet rippling of the lake, just off the camp’s coast, undisturbed by the activity that usually stirred during the day.

Peace was a mercy, and an uncommon one, but you felt it, here, with him. Like the eye of the hurricane that stalked you throughout Faerûn, the bloodshed and chaos that ruled your everyday life was far from absent, but it was silenced. Screams that echoed in your ears were muted, momentarily, granting you a glimpse of life before your adventure, before the hunt, before the cult, before the illithid’s influence. It would be short, but the fact that it occurred at all was a miracle.

“Like wine.”

“Wine?” You chuckled, shifting a little closer, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulder, further warming you.

“I predicted bitterness. A bite, or a sting. I’ve read stories about flavorful affections such as these. Stories. Can you believe it?”

“With how much reading you do? I can,” you hummed, resting your head against his side.

“Tales, I believed them to be. I’ve seen love. Red love. Irascible, fractious love. Impotent, paralyzing love. Love like a raging sea. A love that I trusted. A fool I must’ve been.” There’s a short, woe-rooted chuckle that escapes him followed by a thin exhale out of necessity, out of defense. You knew who he was referencing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mention the name. “Any sane soul would regret it.”

“Do you not?”

“There’s little time in this life– certainly, it offers no such room for regrets. I’ve wasted too many moonrises pondering the past.” His fingers graze your arm, and you allow your eyes to fall closed. “Many a wondrous thing I’ve witnessed. More than a man of my caliber should deserve. In a single lifetime, I’ve experienced more than a library's worth of literature could possibly cover.” He smiles, you can hear it in his voice. “From a mage’s best dreams to a direwolf’s worst nightmares– I’m sure I, myself, couldn’t have asked for a more thorough tour of what this plane, and a few others, have to offer.”

“And yet there’s more.” Your remark is a light-hearted one, as you are sure everyone will have more to reflect on the closer you get to the cure you seek.

But he sighs. A quiet one, restraint tightening his lungs, and you feel unease. “Amongst it all, I have even discovered what I once argued impossible. Simplicity. A priceless simplicity.” This time, when his arm moves, it brings you closer. He craves the contact, the connection struck between you. “Simplicity in love, of all things.”

Your eyes open to find his gaze no longer on the quiet riverbank, and instead on you. There’s a bruise on his left eyebrow, and a cut on the bridge of his nose. He’s pretty, even with the wounds, but you know they sting. A part of you feels guilty for seeing such beauty in his suffering. Deep down you know there is no Gale without suffering.

At a glance, that’s all there is; a bruise, a cut, and a solemn smile. An exchange of pity for one another. Even for yourselves. An agreement, silent but strong.

On further investigation, his eyes hold an unnatural glisten. Only then does it register.

“Gale…”

“It’s what’s best.” You sit up slightly, but you’re met with a gentle hush, and his smile grows, the dimples on his cheeks fired by an unknown audacity. “I’ve come to accept it. It is the decider of my fate– it always has been.”

“There are other ways,” you push out the words, and you find the bite, the sting, that he mentioned. In love, you find the pain.

“Never did I imagine the world outside my tower to hold such beauties. Such contagious fragility. There are no books on this subject. No studies on this exchange of power. What is a puppet to do when he loses his creator? His puppeteer? When he can no longer stand, no longer dance, no longer perform? When obeying is all he knows, what does he do without direction?”

He doesn’t sit up, he doesn’t stir. He looks back out to the waters. For guidance, maybe. For peace. For life. You’re left with no choice but to settle with the tide. A hand comes to rest on the dark imprint below his neck, desperate to find answers where the weave fails.

“I have found simplicity. And, perhaps, that is the final step. I never imagined growing old. I suppose it isn’t meant to be.” He breathes, and you can feel the steadiness of his lungs. He isn’t scared. You can only wonder how long he’s contemplated this decision. “You see me. You look past the strings, my love, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still linger. I am but a man; I am no hero, I am no god. But if your safety is the only accomplishment I ever succeed in, I will lie satisfied in my earthly rest.”

“A few more days,” you whisper, pleading.

“I only ask of you one thing.” Gale inhales, his heart pumping against your palm, pressing closer to his skin, desperate to feel him, to feel more than the orb, to feel more than Mystra’s design. You find his humanity in the tear on his cheek, the hair on his chest, the irregular mock of his heart’s rhythm. You find his humanity in his love, in his hopeless compassion, in his unwavering loyalty. “Don’t let that damned vampire even think about touching me.”

He chuckles, and you do too, pulling yourself into his chest, hugging him close. He repays the affection, lips on the top of your head, his every breath lingering on your scalp. The peace remains, but you fear this may be your last serving of merciful tranquility.

You only hope it isn’t Gale’s.

#bg3 #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #gale bg3 #fuck mystra #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #i love this silly wizard #bg3 angst #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios angst

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sheepiemc · 7 months

Text

your touch (a craving)

part 2: arm (first)

You were on Diavolo’s mind again.

This seemed to be happening more often than not these days, especially after that infamous bus ride a few weeks before. The warmth of your thigh on his still made him crazy whenever he thought about it. The strength of his willpower was astounding; how he didn’t end up just pulling you onto his lap because of that touch was beyond mortal comprehension. Such were dangerous thoughts for the future King of the Devildom.

Something you had said that day kept bringing him back to that conversation. Somehow, you got on the topic of Devildom flora and he mentioned the Flowers of the Abyss in the school garden would soon be in bloom. You said you hadn’t gotten to explore the gardens much, as it wasn’t a part of the very brief tour you got from Mammon that very first day.

“We’ll need to rectify that immediately,” he remembered himself saying, leaning ever so closer - just as you did to him earlier on the bus.

You tilted your head as if you were surprised by the prince's sudden boldness. “I would really appreciate that, Diavolo. Thank you.”

The way your eyes brightened with your genuine smile made his heart soar; he'd been riding that high ever since. And he definitely clocked you dropping the honorific in his name. He had never been so excited to be disrespected (something to unpack at a later time).

And so, it was time to fulfill his promise.

He had finally cleared up his schedule and worked some magic behind the scenes to make sure you had the same time off. He texted you as soon as he was done to ask if you were available for the tour (even though he already knew the answer). You texted back almost immediately that yes, you were free and you would like to cash that rain check now.

Diavolo looked out the window. It wasn't raining.

You texted back, “I'll meet you at the garden gate.”

He tried to control his excited gait as he made his way to the garden from the student council office, but if anyone saw how fast he was hustling through the halls, they would know something was up.

Approaching the garden gate, he stopped when he saw you - close enough to observe but far enough away for you not to notice him yet. You were looking away from him, leaning against the fence that surrounded the perimeter of the garden.

He admired the way your hair looked in the eternal Devildom starlight, though it made him wonder what it looked like in your natural environment. What did it look like in the sun? Did it feel as soft as it looked?

You looked down at your phone and he could see your face in profile. He leaned against the fence now too, gently enough so as to not alert you to his presence. He wanted to memorize that profile, to become so familiar with it that he would be able to recognize you by its shadow. You smiled so fondly at whatever you found on your phone, and it made Diavolo's chest tighten. It was a stunning sight, to be sure - but he felt a sting of envy that he wasn't the reason for that smile.

“MC!” He waved and you looked at him, only a little bit startled.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo.” You put your phone away and turned to him, smiling wider.

He stopped short at the formality, leaving a respectable distance between you. Of course you would use his title here, in the hallowed halls of his very own institution, but that didn't make the blow land any softer.

He schooled his features into his “jovial prince indulging another of his whims” mask and asked, “Are you ready for your first official tour of our gardens? I can't believe it took this long for you to get to see them. We'll have to fix that for the next group of exchange students we bring in.”

“Yes, well,” your smile faltered infinitesimally, so minutely, anyone else might not have seen a difference. But Diavolo did. Demon that he was, he felt slightly vindicated but it didn't make him feel any better. In fact, it only reminded him that your stay here was temporary. “I'm glad you're the one that gets to show me, My Lord .”

He was startled by the emphasis on his title. Could you really see right through him? He almost shuddered at the thought before fully turning away from you to open the gate, allowing you to walk inside. “It's a huge garden and we have much to see so let's get on then, shall we?”

You walked past him, your smile ever so slightly morphing into a smirk. Diavolo released a breath he didn't realize he was holding and closed the gate behind him.

You wound the serpentine trails of the garden at a decidedly uncomfortable distance. Diavolo kept you at more than arm's length, a distance he maintained every time you stepped a little bit closer. He named every interesting plant you pointed out because what else is a prince to do for millennia if not memorize every plant name in his domain?

When you arrived at the section affectionately called “the flower fields”, you couldn't hold in your enthusiasm for all the strange, beautiful, and entirely unfamiliar flowers that populated this part of the garden. Your glittering expression softened Diavolo’s heart, reminding him why he chose to bring you here in the first place.

“Those would be the Flowers of the Abyss.” He gestured to some flowers with dark purple petals with a black gradient and blood-red stamens, a combination you had certainly never seen on any flower on earth.

“Can I touch them?” you asked.

“Smart of you to ask,” he smiled. “If you wish.”

He watched you, standing on the other side of the trail, as you tentatively reached out for the plant, rubbing its petal between your fingers. Your lips parted in a near-silent gasp. Diavolo gasped too, albeit involuntarily, his attention oscillating between your fingers and your face.

“It's so soft,” you whispered reverently as you gently cupped the flower in both hands. You leaned in, bringing your face closer to the bloom. Diavolo swallowed hard. Was he really getting jealous of a flower? In trying to feel the petals against your cheek, you managed to get some pollen on the corner of your mouth. “And they smell delightful,” you sighed, standing up straight, and releasing the flower from your grasp.

“MC, you have-” he couldn't finish the sentence, so he only vaguely gestured to his mouth, wishing he could get it off you himself.

“Oh,” you wiped it off with your thumb and looked at it quickly before sticking your thumb in your mouth. “Mmm, sweet, too.”

At that, Diavolo had to look away or else he might end up doing something he would certainly regret. That's when he noticed all the Hell Jasmine growing on his side of the trail. Stepping away from them, Diavolo cleared his throat, saying, “Yes, well, there is still more garden to get to so let's-”

“Of course,” you interrupted, “I know you're very busy, you must have something more important to attend to today.”

Anyone else listening to you might have taken that statement at face value, as someone being considerate of a prince’s schedule. But if you could read him, then he could read you just as well.

He heard the subtle hurt.

And it crushed him.

“That's not-” he started.

That's when time slowed down. As Diavolo approached you to try to assure you that you had his full attention, you stepped toward him as well. What you didn't see was the creeping vine that caught your foot as you stepped away.

You were falling.

You reached out for something - anything - to steady yourself, to catch yourself before you hit the ground. That something just happened to be Diavolo. His arm to be exact. The desperate grip short-circuited his brain and all he could think was please, don't let go. Long dormant synapses were firing in his brain and his eyes were only focused on where you two were touching. When you looked up at him, you realized just how close your faces were. You could've been standing there for an eternity, or only a few seconds - the Prince was absolutely transfixed.

You could've been standing there for an eternity, or only a few seconds. “You saved me, Diavolo. Thank you. I almost got your uniform dirty,” you joked in an attempt to snap him back to reality.

He looked at you.

You looked back at him.

“Yes, well,” he said, his voice a little strained, “we couldn't have that now, could we?”

You nodded and straightened out, releasing his arm at the same time. He mirrored your posture and placed his hands behind his back, out of sight, so you could not see the vice grip he had on the arm you were just holding. “Shall we continue the tour? We haven't even seen the restricted part of the garden yet.”

You smiled at him again, “I would love nothing more.”

And you walked side by side with only a few inches between you.

(next)

A/N: Hell Jasmine is a pale blue, glowing flower with a sweet aroma. Breathing in its fumes makes demons extremely needy and affection-craving. (Obey Me Wiki)

#obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #i couldnt figure out how to make a fake chat screenshot easily so just the stickers are all y'all get #originally posted on ao3 #OP #fic

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haddonfieldwhore · 6 months

Text

i don’t dance - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x fem!reader

summary: while on a road trip with your best friend, he shows you around calgary, including his favourite country bar

warnings: drinking, language, nsfw themes/implied smut, i’ve been thinking about cowboy matt a lot lately, idk how to line dance so i apologize in advance

word count: 1.9k yeehaw matt playlist 🎧

“matty, you’re joking right?” you pleaded hopefully, looking at your best friend who stood before you, a black cowboy hat atop his head.

“you know what they say - when in…calgary,” he replied with a toothy grin.

“i think the phrase is ‘when in rome, genius,” you both laughed. but you were not in rome, you were in calgary alberta, and matthew had spent his entire day off showing you around the city he spent so many years calling home. you knew matt had loved his time with the flames, but florida was home now; and he was off to a great start with the panthers, as well as enjoying the warm weather.

you and the tkachuks had grown up down the street from eachother in st.louis, and while you were closer to his sisters age, you had always been closest with matthew. you had visited him in calgary a few times, but hadn’t spent a ton of time there while he lived there. when he told you he was moving to florida, you went with him, tired of being so far away from your best friend.

“it’s a country bar, i have to dress the part,” he argued. matty had shown you the arena, the house where he had lived when he was with the flames, and various landmarks around the city. the final stop on your tour was a bar that he insisted on dragging you to, despite your known aversion for country music.

“i’m not really sure it’s my scene,” you sighed, looking through your suitcase for anything remotely appropriate to wear tonight. it was surprisingly warm out despite being late in the evening, so you settled on some cutoff denim shorts and a tight, low cut t-shirt that showed off your cleavage. you got dressed in the bathroom of the hotel room you and matt were sharing, a little nervous as you looked at yourself in the mirror. over the years you had developed a small crush on the curly haired boy you had known for so long; and you secretly hoped he thought you looked hot as you adjusted your shorts one more time before heading back out.

“is this okay?” you asked, the way matthews breath caught in his throat as he turned around going unnoticed. his eyes traveled up your bare legs and over your chest before meeting your gaze, giving you a smile and hoping you hadn’t realized he was checking you out.

“you look great,” he smiled, and you felt a bit relieved. “now if you had some cowboy boots-“

“no way in hell. not even you could get me to wear those, matty. nice try though,” you laughed, pushing his chest softly as you walked by to put in you shoes. he silently wondered what you had meant by ‘not even you’, but didn’t question it, instead grabbing his red flannel shirt and throwing it in over his tshirt before following you out the door, trying not to think about how good your ass looked in those tiny shorts. maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, he thought.

•

to say you were nervous walking into the bar was an understatement, and while you had tried your best to dress the part, you were worried you would stick out like a sore thumb. you slid your hand into matthews, and his heart skipped a beat as he pulled you behind him into the building, and towards an empty table in the back. it wasn’t too busy thankfully, but there were some people dancing already, the sound of boots on the floor mixing with the music and chatter.

“relax, why are you so nervous?” he laughed at you from across the table, reaching his hand across the table to stop yours from shaking as they sat atop the wooden surface.

“i don’t know, i just feel out of place,” you admitted.

“just breathe. you know i won’t let anything happen to you,” he smiled, amused by how nervous you were over something so small. your heart skipped a beat, and you hoped you weren’t blushing too much; but who could blame you if you were, hearing something like that.

after you and matthew each finished a few beers and the bar filled up with more people, you felt surprisingly relaxed. what was not relaxing, however, was the way your breathing stopped everytime matt’s leg brushed against yours under the table; and you weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or not.

“do you trust me?” he asked suddenly, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as the corner of his mouth curled upward. you nearly choked on your drink as he glanced over at the dance floor.

“not when you look at me like that,” you admitted, but let him take your hand in his and pull you into the floor. “matty i have no idea how to dance- nevermind this kind of dancing.”

“it’s easy. if i can do it, anyone can,” he smiled. you were thankful to be off to the side of the dancefloor, with little chance of running into anyone as matt’s hands landed on your hips, his fingertips cold as they brushed against your skin where you shirt had ridden up slightly.

his breath was hot on your shoulder and he stood behind you, guiding your body forward to the music.

“you just step like this, and then to the side, tap your feet together, then step back,” he instructed, showing you slowly what to do, before the two of you repeated the steps together. “and then, when you step back this time, you can add a spin.”

your hands landed on his chest as he spun you around, and his arms circled your waist as you looked up at him. his blue eyes seemed darker thank usual as he stared down at you, but maybe it was just the shadow from his hat. did he always smell this good? you asked yourself, the close proximity allowing the scent of his cologne to reach your nose, and maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but he smelled like heaven.

“think you’ve got it?” he asked under his breath, both of you unable to break the eye contact.

“no,” you muttered. “show me again,” you requested, turning around and placing his hands back on your hips, sliding his fingertips ever so slightly into the waistband of your shorts.

“fuck,” he breathed out, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it; but you did. matt walked you through the steps again, this time leaving no space between the two of you, allowing you to feel him pressing against your backside the whole time. he spun you around, this time pulling you flush against him as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, your lips just centimetres apart.

“now what?” you asked, barely above a whisper as your chest rose and fell, the room suddenly feeling very warm.

“kiss me,” he requested, his eyes half lidded as your leaned up to capture his lips with your own. your mouths moved together, his tongue running along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth as he held you tight. he groaned as you tugged at the curls that peeked out from beneath his hat at the base of his neck, before you both separated to catch your breath.

“do you teach all your dance partners that part or is that just me?”

“god, just you,” the words melted off his tongue as he kissed you again, biting at your bottom lip gently. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to kiss you.”

“maybe as long as i’ve wanted you to?”

“i don’t know - is that a long time?”

“yeah,” you breathed out as he kissed your neck. “matty-“ the words caught in your throat, your train of thought lost as you realized he had defiantly left a hickey below your jawline.

“do you have any idea how hot you look in those shorts? the light bouncing of your skin?” he whispered.

“i wore them for you,” you replied, suprised at the confidence you were finding. things were always easy with matthew, your friendship coming so naturally; you had a bond that nothing could ruin.

“jesus, you’re gonna get me into trouble.”

“why’s that?” you asked, looking up at him, barring your eyelashes innocently.

“because we’re in public right now, and i’m finding it really difficult to not rip those fucking shorts off you right here,” he admitted, his voice low.

“so take me home.” his eyes closed for a second, before he grabbed your hand and walked you back to your table of empty bottles and threw enough cash on the table to cover the tab three times. you couldn’t hide the smile on your flushed face as he dragged you out of the bar, his other hand calling an uber with his phone.

•

matthews leg shook the entire ride back to the hotel, which while in reality was only about ten minutes, felt like about three hours. his hand rested on you thigh, his calloused fingertips tracing little shapes on your skin. while still being careful not to hurt your wrist, he pulled you quickly out of the car after paying the driver and his lips were on yours the second the elevator door closed.

“matty, someone could come in any second-“

“don’t tempt me, i’ll hit the panic button and stop this damn thing-“ he nearly growled, his teeth nipping at the skin below your ear.

“relax, baby - we’re almost there,” you murmured, but silently wished that the elevator would speed up. the two of you stumbled down the hall to the doorway, matt unable to keep his hands off you the whole time, pinning you against the door as he fumbled in his pocket for the key card.

“you’re making it really hard to focus right now….” he groaned as you left a trail of kisses up the side of his neck, the door finally opening behind you and allowing matthew to push you backwards into the suite.

“is that the only thing i’m making hard?“ you asked, palming his length through his jeans that had become significantly tighter, and he nearly whimpered at your touch. usually it would take more to get that kind of reaction out of him, but you had an effect on him like no one else ever would.

“don’t tease-“ you interrupted him by connecting your lips again, trailing your hands up his chest and sliding the flannel shirt off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. his hands slid under your t-shirt and pulled it over your head. he took his hat off and placed it atop your head before attaching his lips to your collarbone, his hands reaching down to undo your shorts.

“you want this, right?” he said, his hands pausing as his eyes met yours, both of you breathing heavily.

“please, matty-“ you pulled his pelvis against yours by his belt loops and he groaned, his head falling back as his eyes closed and his mouth fell open slightly. “i need you.”

you helped eachother out of the rest of your clothes, tumbling to the bed with your lips still connected, hands wandering all over. you rolled on top of matt, straddling his lap as you admired how messy his curls had gotten from your hands tangling in his hair.

“what’s that song called again? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you teased, and he smiled, sitting up and holding you in his lap, placing a kiss on your lips.

“i thought you didn’t listen to country music?” he smirked, adjusting the cowboy hat that still sat on your head.

“i’ve heard one or two songs in my lifetime,” you smiled as he kissed you deeply, tossing the hat aside as he rolled on top of you.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl players #hockey fic #hockey #florida panthers #calgary flames #real person fiction

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xcrust · 9 months

Text

ELEGANCE

Meeting Stolas

This is part of my new fic that i’m starting. Here is one of the Chapters! I hope you enjoy it!! I’m god awful at spelling and grammar so bear with me. Please tell me if there is anything I can improve on in the comments!

(WARNING: Im making Andrealphus a pompous spoiled brat. This chapter does make him very creepy)

WORD COUNT: 1.9K

The carriage was quite a smooth ride. Though it made you stuck with your thoughts a little bit longer than you anticipated. It didn’t help that coming here was a part of some of that royalty. Being the youngest of the Magne family meant getting the short end of the stick. All. The. Time.

The beautiful night sky shone above the bustling party full of the elitists of the elite. It was a party dedicated to the birth of new life. Since Paimon had long passed away, the new Leader supposedly named Stolas had now gotten married with a beautiful baby on the way. A precautionary heir but even with that case it is tradition for all the royal to have a party. In times of celebration it was always you that was sent instead of the family. Well instead of Charlie in this case. To keep good ties. Not that it was needed though, Your family could take out the entirety of hell in a heartbeat.

Approaching the castle was such a beautiful sight to behold. So lavish it was incriminating. You may be royal but It was so extremely lavish that it was almost incriminating. Stars were dancing on the ground where people walked. It is almost a sight that would make you cry. Cant get too excited, you haven't even entered the building. With how many carriages that were out front you could only assume that the party has already started. These haughty nobles are so going to get a rise out of this.

The doors automatically opening when you walked in seemed a little over the top. But what else can you expect from this place.

"Announcing your Majesty, (Y/n) youngest of the Magne household"

Well that's a little bit more over the top. That is so 1820s? Going down the stairs enjoying the building even more every passing second. As annoying as these nobles were, they sure knew how to decorate a place. As expected, at the base of the stairs everyone flew over.

"hello your highness" "looking ravishing tonight" "Such a queen of the night" And many many more comment were being thrown at you.

"Ladies and Gentleman, this isn't the way to welcome our most esteemed guests." A tall goetia entered the scene. One would think it was the host of the party if it weren't for the distaste of the other people that are attending. His aura definitely contradicted the purples of the room.

"My name is Andrealphus, I would gladly give you a tour around the place." Oh this man reeked of slimy gold digging waste. Though he intrigued you enough to venture around.

"You know my name. Please take care of me" and so you locked arms deeper into the ballroom.

...

Meanwhile at the back of the room stood a man looking hopeless onto the scene in front of him. Seeing a proper royalty of hell made it all feel a little too real for comfort. When the real deal shows up it really just cements what was hoped to not be a reality. He had a wife and child on the way. With a woman he's known for merely a few months. Before that he had only seen photos of her being a literal savage.

"Stolas, you're boring up the room" the witch herself appeared. "Why dont you be pitiful anywhere else; you're ruining my party"

Well as unpleasant as it was, that's the cue he was waiting for.

...

"What's your connection to the host" So far the conversation has been flowing very well and he seemed genuinely sweet

"Im actually the brother of Stella, she's about the give birth to that cocksuckers child"

You froze not knowing what to say. definitely spoke too soon. "ahhh well i'm sure that your niece will be a very elegant character in the future."

"Well if she takes after her mother then im sure she'll be amazing" a very clear bias here. abort mission. abort mission. This guy only makes you think of Charlie's current boyfriend. Big jerk Chad. Otherwise known as Sevianthan von Eldritch. probably the most ignorant guy in all of hell. Actually you wondered if he was here at this party.

"well as much as I enjoyed our time together, I think im going to take a look around by myself" You'd think that could be the end of it but when has it ever been easy for you? Immediately long arms wrapped around your waist pulling you close.

"I've had such excitable time with you today" was that a growl? "I would adore for us to continue this more intimately" but this point he was so close you in all shapes and form that it felt violating.

What was going on? yes this place is full of freaks but this is a little extreme for the standards of nobles. They were birds in the end. Probably as territorial as most birds as well.

"Ill think about it" aggressively patting him on the chest while escaping his hold should've given you a reward.

Walking away never felt to fulfilling in your life.

"playing hard to get? I do like the tricky ones"

...

The thought of laughing at the nobles was such a fun thought at first. However, after spending an hour with Andrealphus. You've had your share of nobles for the next century. the feeling of all the royals being so fake was so incredibly suffocating.

As much as you wanted to bask in the glory of the designs around you. it was for sure time to head home. however, you knew better than to leave early from a nobles party. We may have the power but as someone without any actual power in hell its better to wait for their egos to be fed first. Going down the halls there were so many places to go in but seemed way too close to the party. The music was still booming no matter how far you went. For a high class party, it showed the evident trashy mess of the Goetia.

Further down, the craft was mesmerizing until there was this archway with beautiful purple curtains at the entrance. Going in it was just like standing on the moon. As beautiful as the room was there was a sound of hyperventilating to your left. To you it only looked like pile feathers. That's kinda mean in this current building but alas.

"Hello? Are you alright?" That probably wasn't the best thing to say at the time because clearly he was not but what else is a person supposed to ask in instances like this.

Immediately standing up he looks at you with panic. All of his feathers were fluffed out with his eyes holding so much sorrow.

"Your Highness, I apologize, would you like the room?" Dragging his cape to his front so he could bow but being stopped by holding his chin. Considering he towers over you it was a shock for him.

"No need for sorry. It's your home and your party. It seems like you need the space a little more than me" as you were letting go he stumbled in front of you.

"By all means, you came this far so you must have had a reason to be here as well" His accent was so full it took you a second to process what he said.

"Well yes, but it was more me exploring what this place has to offer" Really just to find a place of refreshment away from mister creep back in the big room.

"By all means of respect I dont believe you in that sense" He's so elegant. It would make anyone fumble onto themselves

"Sorry um, no you're right. I needed a little escape from the party, no offense to you though! It's a beautiful party. Some of the nobles seemed to be a bit much and i've been to tons of these in my life." The way you delivered that could be compared to a socially awkward introvert speaking for the first time. Stolas had more of a comfortable aura after seeing you are equally as nervous as he was.

"I'm sure my wife isn't helping with that" he silently scoffed out distastefully. "Let's sit down, this room is big enough for the both of us" As he went to sat down you became a little more curious about him.

Maybe it was the way that this man was a clear open book. No need to read the back of it because it’s all open and torn out.

So you decided to sit closer to him in hope to spark up a bit of conversation. The seats were pure clouds which was very on theme. As much as the Ars Goetia were trashy royals, their job was the most beautiful of it all. Got to learn and observe the star for all of eternity. That is the probably the luckiest job in all of Heaven, Hell and Earth.

"So Sir Stolas, why are you holding such a long face?" He tensed up again, looking anywhere but at you at that moment. Maybe a little bit of teasing could bring a more welcoming aura. Being a higher rank can be so annoying when making friends. Breaking the ice might be the way to go here. Though with the lack of experience on both parts, it’s really no telling how it will play out.

"You can be honest with me, I don't bite. Unless you want me too" Practically giving himself whiplash looking at you, this time fluffing up in response. It seems you've gotten a slightly bigger reaction than anticipated. Time to tone it done a bit.

"It would be inappropriate to discuss with someone of your status but I appreciate the worry" The Goetia looked at you to find an innocent look.

"Ok… fine, the reality of my entire reality is slowly sinking in, my life will be like this for all of eternity." Assuming he's referring to the lady Stella. Considering you haven't seen her the whole night and if she's anything like her brother you're definitely sure you can understand where he's coming from.

At that you had a look of pity because you know that feeling all too well. He was so young in the grand scheme of things. With Paimon gone he had the rest of hell's time to exist. The only people he had would be his wife and future daughter.

Immortality isn't what its all chalked up to be. Take Vampires for example, everyone wants to be you but being immortal just means you're trapped with yourselves and those around you simply wither away. Unfortunately, for people like him its like losing the lottery of life for the most part.

So you did the best thing you could think about something you wished that you could've gotten while you were growing up; you squished further towards him and laid on his arm for now. The height difference was severe due to him being so tall so it was a little awkward. Unlike your parents you were not blessed with being above six foot.

It was definitely strange since this has been the first time you have talked to each other. You weren't really sure if it was the right thing to do until you felt a weight on your head. For the rest of that night you guys had each other and that was all that mattered.

#helluva boss x reader #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #stolas #stolas x reader #ars goetia #y/n

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katebeckets · 3 months

Text

after a 3.5-year hiatus from gifmaking, I re-learned how to gif at the end of November and have since gained quite a few new followers and also confirmed I will be on this website until the day I die. Many of you came right as I lost my job, dealt with the fallout and unemployment, found a new job, and started working... and for some reason have stayed through all of that?? So I decided to do a very randomly-timed follower appreciation event because you all have really kept me going these last few months.

I want to share a special thank you to the @tmsource team (aka @burningblake, @robintunney, @robntunney, and @lizzybennets) for organizing the secret santa event that motivated me to start giffing again, and to Britt especially for her incredible scene pack that meant i actually had shit to gif 😂

and a note to all my long-time swiftie friends/followers who absolutely did not sign up for this... who could stay? you could stay. 🥹 but the actual note is that i have so much love for all of you. there is one taylor-specific request and the rest can be done for her as well if you don't share any fandoms 😘

requests will close april 1. love you all! request guidelines under the cut 🩵

————————————————— 🩵

NOTES

we don't have to be mutuals, but you do need to be actually following me since this is a follower appreciation!

I have absolutely noooo idea what the timeline on this will be especially since I have multiple gif series in progress and am starting my new full-time job lmao so please... ✨ lower your expectations ✨

you may send more than one request (just be reasonable please lol)

for this event, anonymous requests will not be completed

please consider reblogging this if you send a request so more people can see it <3

to request a gifset, please choose from this list and send me a...

🎶 + a character/(friend)ship for a lyric gifset (you may send a lyric or have me choose) 📖 + a character/(friend)ship for a quote gifset (you may send a quote or have me choose) 🎨 + a tv show/character for a color palette gifset (send 1-3 colors or have me choose) 💋 + a word for a taylor swift parallel/theme gifset (e.g., taylor swift + spring, taylor swift + blue; feel free to get creative! you may also specify an album, tour, or performance) [taylor swift prompt] 💝 (mutuals only for this one) for a themed gifset + short playlist that I make for you (you can send me a theme or have me surprise you. also let me know if you prefer apple music, spotify, or a youtube playlist)

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ashensgrotto · 1 year

Text

The Sea's Sacrifice (Part 1)

Characters: AzulAshengrotto / Jade Leech / Floyd Leech x F!Reader

Total Word Count: 14.7k+

Part 1 (You are Here) Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Synopsis: A potential job as a marine biologist’s assistant leaves (Y/N) feeling something fishy going on behind the scene…

Author's Notes: Original Idea came from @merakiui 's annonymous ask with a short story / headcannon -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/684490143936167936/ooohhh-i-love-those-writing-ideas-you-had-for-sea?source=share

and I absolutely love this concept and wanted to take it a step further. I don't write yandere nor fanfiction as much as I did a few years ago. However, I do hope I do this piece justice; I will had links to the next part once it is completed and ready for viewing.

Also, this is a work of fiction. I disagree anyone that justifies the following behaviors which are represented in this fic (if I think of more, I will add them as I go):

rape/non-consent/dub-consent, possessive/controlling/dominating behaviors, and manipulation

Cruel and cold like winds on the seas

Will you ever return to me

Hear my voice sing with the tide

My love will never die

Over waves and deep in the blue

I will give up my heart for you

***

If someone were to tell you that you’d eventually be pulled into the wrong end of the sea by, not one but three, unknown sea creatures - you’d probably laugh your head off, thinking they’ve lost their mind.

But how wrong you’d be.

When you had initially applied to work at Twisted Wonders - an emporium of oddities that were collected and studied by the greatest minds in existence - you thought you’d be taking an everyday desk job; answering phone calls, scheduling tours, directing visitors… that sort of thing.

Never in your right mind would you believe that you would be working alongside the Dire Crowley - director and owner of Twisted Wonders. Mr. Crowley was an acclaimed renowned genius with an air that was both mysterious and alluring. He was approximately 170 cm in height (five feet, seven inches) and wore rich tailored clothing made of silks and leather with gold embroidery and jewels embedded into the vest and belt; of course, he upped his strange allure by consistently wearing a heavy leather overcoat that hung to his frame, decorated in black feathers - real or faux, no one was sure, a top hat that perched on his head, and a mask of black that reminded you of a crow - his arched nose hidden under the long rim of the mask that poked out like a beak.

“Here’s the deal, (Y/N),” Mr. Crowley spoke, reclining back in his desk chair as a pair of golden eyes peered out from behind the mask, “We’ve recently acquired three creatures that need to be observed. My team, however, has been unsuccessful at getting remotely close to studying them. They seem to think that an outsider might have a higher success rate at being able to approach them more than any of us will due to their knowing who we are.”

“So, what is it exactly that you want me to do?”

“I want you to observe them,” Mr. Crowley spoke, pushing a contract towards you, “You will work with my group of scientists for about three months as well as the three creatures. You are to notate anything and everything you see the trio doing - how they eat, sleep, react with each other, and so forth - and document everything for our records, no matter how insignificant it is. If you prove your worth and competence within those three months, you will be moved to another position within the facility of your choosing.”

“And that’s it? That’s all I need to do?”

“That’s it.”

‘Seems pretty easy for a payment of twenty dollars an hour…’ you thought as you looked down at the contract before, “And this is my… compliance, right?”

“That would be correct, as well as a safety and confidentiality agreement,” Mr. Crowley answered, offering a pen in your direction.

You took the instrument and wrote your name across the bottom of the page on the dotted line.

“Alright,” Dire Crowley took the contract and stood, pressing a buzzer on his desk, “with everything in order, I’ll have Grimsley take you to meet Divus Crewel and Mozus Trein - the overseers of our aquatic project.”

“I’m sorry, did you say aquatic?” your eyes widened in surprise.

“Dear me, did I forget to mention that part?” Mr. Crowley tapped his chin, his glowing eyes looking up toward the ceiling before returning to rest on your features, “Our newest arrivals are of the oceanic nature - I’ve never met or seen them myself, however Professor Crewel and Professor Trein will be able to go over the basics with you and introduce you to the trio in question.”

“As long as they don’ forget the good stuff!” a snarky voice spoke from behind.

You turned in your chair toward the door to see the man who must’ve been Grimsley.

He was about 163 cm in height with pale skin and dark gray hair with tufts of flame blue poking out in random directions. His eyes also were flame blue and held mischief in their depths that matched the smirk on his face as a set of sharp teeth peered out from behind thin lips. He wore a suit of black with a vest that matched his hair, a black and white-striped tie, and a white dress shirt. Leather loafers padded softly against the carpeted flooring of Crowley's office as he held out a black leather gloved hand in greeting.

"Grimsley Overblot," the man smiled like a Cheshire cat, "I'm Mr. Crowley's henchman and errand runner here at Twisted Wonders."

"(Y/N) (L/N)," you answer, taking Grimsley's hand with a shake, "pleasure to meet you."

“Grimsley, go ahead and take (Y/N) to see the good professors,” Dire Crowley spoke, a satisfied smile on his features, “I’m sure the two are more than ecstatic to meet her.”

***

As it turns out, both men were ecstatic to meet you - though Professor Trein was a bit more reserved about it versus his partner.

Trein's appearance matched his personality - his posture indicated a "no nonsense" aura as did his unchanging features. His lips would quirk into a small smile before they would fall to a straight line as his dark eyes settled on your uneasy form, as if he enjoyed watching you squirm like a germ under the microscope. He was dressed as any scientist would; a heavy white lab coat that fell to his knees hung around his frame that covered a white dress shirt and charcoal-colored dress pants and loafers. His hair was gray with streaks of white and wrinkles covered every inch of his face and neck. He also wore a set of white pristine gloves and had a cravat around his neck with a singular emerald gem that held the cloth together.

As for his partner, Professor Crewel was a bit more… eccentric. Crewel had a sort of energy about him that reminded you of a young dog - not a puppy, but not an adult either. He was always cocking a smile that bore teeth, chuckling when he patted the top of your head as he called you "puppy." His clothing matched his laidback ideals too - a heavy black and white fur coat with a red silk lining covered the charcoal gray dress shirt and pants. His vest was black on one side, white on the other, and wore a red tie that matched the gloves on his hands.

“So,” Crewel spoke after introductions, pulling a cigarette out of his pants pocket and lighting the object, “any questions before we get you set up?”

“I guess my big question is what exactly will I be working with?” you ask.

“We believe the trio to be mers, but they’re not your typical ones,” Trein explained with a sniff as his features twisted at the smell of Crewel’s smoke, “All three of them have the upper bodies of men, but lower halfs of sea creatures. Two of the three half the lower half of what we believe to be that of a moray eel and the third the lower half of an octopus. The twins are typically more curious of the three, though they can be aggressive. Several of our closest colleagues were attacked by the duo after accidentally disturbing them - their bites have left scars and one of our colleagues actually lost their leg from their attack.”

“... and you don’t think I will?” you had to question, the comment coming out high-pitched.

“Well, moray eels - specifically - will attack only if they have been disturbed,” Crewel answered nonchalantly, “We believe there are similarities between the animals and the mers, which is why we are gathering as much information as we can. We want to know what the similarities and differences are between moray eels and the twins.”

“Okay, but I still don’t see how I won’t get attacked by those two. And what about the third?”

“You won’t be attacked as long as you stay still and don’t make any sudden movements,” Trein answered, “Once they get used to you, you’ll know.”

“As for the third,” Crewel answered, “he’s a cecaelia - half man, half octopus.”

You blink, “Don’t moray eels eat octopi?”

“Typically, yes,” Trein answered, “which is strange, in this case. The trio were originally found off the coast in the Coral Sea - living in harmony with each other. When we brought them here, the moray mers have consistently been surrounding the grotto that is in the enclosure - the cecaelia hiding within and rarely comes out. We think that the cecaelia may have raised the morays, but we’re not completely sure.”

“And it’s been a devil of a time trying to get a glimpse of him too,” Crewel shook his head, eyes rolling to the ceiling.

“You mean you haven’t seen him? Not once?”

“I saw him when he was first brought into the enclosure,” Trein sighed, “however, it was dark and I couldn’t see him very well - the eels could be seen because of the bioluminescence that exists within their bodies, allowing us to see their figures.”

“Speaking of which, come,” Crewel rested a hand to the small of your back, “let’s get you acquainted with our aquatic trio, hm?”

Crewel and Trein led you to the opposite end of their laboratory where a large glass wall stood with a set of double doors that led to what appeared to be the edge of a massive pool. Once inside, the smell of fish and humidity tickled your nose as the sound of lapping of water reverberated in the slightly dimmed room; the only light being illuminated from the pool itself. The gray walls stretched high, the ceiling covered by long triangular beams that permitted the echoes of voices and lapping water in the room. One the far left was a coat rack and a small freezer with a large fan blowing the heated air around the room.

“When you come in - which will be about six-thirty each morning, you’ll hang your coat on the rack and put your lunch in the freezer before feeding your charges,” Crewel explained, walking over to the freezer and lifting the lid, “We always restock the food the night before, so you don’t have to worry about not having anything in here for the day. There will be nine buckets total in the freezer - three for the morning, three for noon, three for dinner - so make sure you dump all three buckets in the water, but don’t toss the actual bucket into the water.”

“What’s in them?” you ask, wrinkling your nose at the mixture within the buckets.

“A collection of shellfish - shrimp, crab, clam, lobster - and assorted fish are what they primarily eat,” Crewel answered as he closed the lid to the freezer, “We’ve tried feeding the moray twins octopi - but they refuse to touch it and often threw it at the feeders when they came in. Also, feel free to wear something comfortable. The water temperature varies from 45℉ to as low as 39℉ so we have to offset that with the atmosphere in our enclosure here at approximately 77℉ to 85℉ - never mind that one of the twins likes to splash newcomers right off the bat.”

“So, shorts are ok?”

“Shorts would be preferred, so yes,” Crewel nodded.

“But not too short - lower thigh length to knee length is acceptable,” Trein chided, “you are also permitted to wear sandals within the enclosure as well as a t-shirt or tank top due to the humidity. However, if you do choose sandals and tank tops - please bring a spare pair of tennis shoes to wear on the way in and on the way out as closed toed and heels are required within the labs and main building as well as something to keep your shoulders covered; this is a place of employment, not enjoyment.”

When you nod, Trein continued.

“After you feed them their breakfast, take a seat and use the notebooks over here to document any findings,” Trein walks to the opposite end of the enclosure, opening a locker filled with office supplies, “Take whatever you think you might need for the day and have a seat at the edge of the pool and begin your observations. It might take a few days before one of the twins actually approaches you, but once they do, you should be able to start the observations with no problems. During your first few days, remember to stay still - morays attack when startled or provoked, which we don’t want to happen. You’ll let them come to you and, hopefully once you get acquainted, you’ll be able to do your observations with no trouble at all.”

“Alright.”

“Your shift will be twelve hours total,” Trein also explained, “you will be expected to eat lunch with the trio and feed them their supper before you leave for the night at six pm and place any of your notes back in the locker here for Crewel or I to collect at the end of the day. When you leave, make sure the door is locked. Typically, we will be here until eight, so we often check the door on our way out - but just so you are aware, the door does get stuck on occasion; you may need to knock on the door a few times and one of us or our staff will get you out.”

You nod again.

“Alright, are there any questions?” Crewel asked.

“No, I think I’ve got it.”

“Very well,” Trein smiles, “We’ll see you tomorrow at six sharp - no later.”

“Thank you very much for this opportunity,” you bow your head to both of them before shaking each of their offered hands as the two escorted you out of the enclosure - none of you aware of the two sets of heterochromia eyes that watched your figure from below the water’s surface.

***

One week passes slowly as you go through the motions as the Twisted Wonders aquatic observer.

Every morning, you arrive at quarter to six and greet Crewel and Trein at their laboratory doors. After they unlock and head into their own offices, you make your way to the enclosure and place your bag on the coat rack and the brown paper bag that contains your lunch in the freezer before hauling out the three of the nine gallon-sized buckets one at a time and dump the contents into the water, watching a little bit to see if anything will appear to snatch up a meal as the fish disappear into the murky depths of the pool. After watching the last piece of morsel disappear into the depths, you turn toward the locker, grabbing notebooks, pens and anything else you think you need and take a seat at the edge of the pool.

As the hours pass by, you jot notes down about anything you see - which is nothing.

7:30am: Ripples of water, no sign of the creatures

10:30am: Still no sign of the creatures

12:30pm: Fed mers, no sign of breaking the surface yet - maybe they know I am waiting for them and want nothing to do with me?

2:30pm: Still no sign

4:30pm: I heard a splash, but saw nothing. Maybe they’re nervous?

6:00pm: Fed the mers their supper - Hoping to get a sign of them before I leave today.

Day after day after day, the notes were the same: No sign. No sign. No sign.

By the end of the first week, you were beginning to wonder if you actually would ever see the creatures or if they even existed - or even, heaven forbid, if you were a test subject yourself for believing that there were mers that lived in the enclosure.

When Saturday morning came, you trudged into the enclosure with a heavy sigh and slowly began to begin the day’s events. Everything you did now seemed slower as the hope of seeing something otherworldly began to diminish like smoke. You pulled the first bucket of food out of the freezer and brought it to the edge of the pool, dumping the contents in before standing to return the bucket to the side of the freezer when something slimy and light hit the back of your head. Your hand instinctively reached up and brushed the hair behind your head, feeling traces of water and slime. You looked down to see what hit you, finding the bottom half of an unidentifiable colored fish laying behind you.

Your eyes shifted to look out into the pool - but no movement or any indication that something had thrown the half of the fish at you could be seen.

‘Maybe I’m just imagining things,’ you thought as a sigh escaped your lips, picking up the fish and dropping it into the second bucket before it was dumped over the edge of the pool as well.

As you turned your back to grab the last bucket, again something smacked against the back of your head, a clicking sound following shortly afterwards.

‘Ok,’ you thought, a slight smirk appearing on your features as you picked up the large hunk of lobster from the ground, ‘whoever or whatever you are, I’m assuming you want to play. Well, let’s play.’

You grab the last bucket and dump the contents into the water and kneel at the edge - watching like a cat watches a mouse before pouncing. A few moments pass before you feel your back begin to strain, forcing you to stand. As you do, a whole king prawn nearly smacks you in the face as another round of clicking echoes in the enclosure. You whip your face toward the pool, just in time to see two sets of eyes watching you.

Silence defends the enclosure as the three of you stare in silence at one another.

Your heart races as you realize that the creatures staring at you must be the twins.

You can’t see them completely - their entire bodies are hidden under the water while the tops of their heads and their eyes are the only thing being seen from your position at the edge of the pool as they regard you from a few meters away - but you can see that they are nearly mirrors of each other.

They both have skin the color of seaweed with short hair to match - a longer piece the color of deep sea teal arching in the front of their faces. Instead of human ears, they have fins - likely hiding the gills they use to breathe underwater behind them. The one on your left appears to be more cautious than their twin on the right - their eyes are sharp, their right colored brown and left colored gold, and watching every movement you make as if calculating whether to attack you or not. The one on your right appeared to have more of a droopy expression on their face, their lower eyelids dropping into a bored expression, but their gaze is still sharp. Like their twin, their eyes are different colors - the left colored brown and the right colored gold instead.

You swallow thickly, unsure of what to do exactly.

Moray eels attack if provoked, you recalled Crewel saying, so you didn’t want to make any sudden movements in case they read it wrong and attempt anything. However, it seems that the decision is quickly made when the one on your right slowly approaches the edge of the pool. You stay as still as possible as they approach, their eyes locked on yours as if in a trance.

When they reach the edge, you can see the length of his body in the murky depths. His skin is a darker seaweed teal with little stripe patterns on his cheekbones and arms - with likely more on his lower body hidden deeper in the depths. Large fins poke out from his lower arms, giving him and his brother the ability to glide through the water quickly. You couldn’t see his tail, but if you had to guess - you thought he could be approximately six feet in length or longer.

Then, salted sea water covers your entire body, causing you to sputter at the surprise at getting splashed as the moray mer peeled in laughter. His brother follows up with three sharp clicks before the duo disappear under the water, leaving you to wonder what in the world just happened.

#twisted wonderland #twstファンアート #azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere #yandere jade leech #yandere jade x reader #jade leech #floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #yandere floyd leech #twst wonderland #twst jade #twst floyd #twst azul #fanfic

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