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#let him be funny in the show you cowards!!
my-darling-inej · 2 years
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appreciation post for kaz’s best one-liners
because he’s the chandler of the crows
about jesper spelling ‘forgive me’ on dirix’s chest in bullet holes: “Compromise”, Kaz said. “I’m sorry does the trick and uses fewer bullets.”
“If you fail, all the world will suffer for it.” - “Oh, it’s worse than that, Van Eck. If I fail, I don’t get paid.”
“I had a question,”, said Kaz. “About your mother and whether the rumours are true.” (he says that to a guard in hellgate 💀)
when he tells wylan to watch jesper so he doesn’t go gambling: “I don’t need a nursemaid”, Jesper snapped. “More like a chaperone, but if you want him to wash your nappies and tuck you in at night, that’s your business.” (captain of the wesper ship from day one)
Kaz replied with a time-saving gesture that relied heavily on his middle finger and disappeared belowdecks. (i know, technically not a line, but still great)
“I’ll just hire Matthias’ ghost to kick your ghost’s ass.” (iconic 👏🏻)
when jesper doesn’t know what to do with the backless book: “Hold it up so we don’t have to look at your ugly face.”
“What is he doing?” asked Matthias. “Performing an ancient Zemeni ritual,” Kaz said. “Really?” - “No.”
“How do we cross? I don’t see anything.” - “Because you are not worthy.” - “I’m also not nearsighted. There’s nothing there.” followed by: “This is only one part of Hringkälla.” - “Yes, I know, then a tree tells you the secret handshake.”
“You can explain why our illustrious Shu scientist looks like one of Wylan’s school pals along the way.”
about van eck’s replacement for the ruby (that HE STOLE): “Nice pin,” Kaz said with a glance at the ruby stuck to Van Eck’s tie, “Not as nice as the other one, though.”
“Let’s go.” - “Me?” - “No, the idiot behind you.”
“How is-” - “Nina is fine. Jesper is fine. Everyone is fine except for me because I’m stuck with a gang of hand-wringing nursemaids. Keep a watch.” (actually it’s because of inej, but sure, kaz)
while petting a dog: “Now why can’t people be this easily trained?”
“I helped as well,” added Kuwei, looking sulky. “He did help,” Wylan said. “We’ll make him a plaque,” said Kaz.
“I need to do this. I’ve never been to my mother’s grave. I’m not leaving Kerch without saying goodbye.” - “Trust me, you care more than she does.” (i mean he’s right but jesus christ 💀)
“Pick up the pace,” Kaz said, eyeing his watch. “If I spill a single drop of this, it will burn straight through the floor onto my father’s dinner guests.” - “Take your time.”
when he breaks that dreg member’s leg: “My leg! My leg!” - “I recommend a cane.” (he’s a bad bitch and he knows it. 10/10)
Jellen Radmakker had fallen to the stage and was bellowing, “I’ve been shot!” He had not been shot.
when zoya tries to reanimate kuwei: “I really hope she gets this right,” murmured Nina. “Not as much as Kuwei does,” said Kaz.
in conclusion: kaz is actually funny as hell
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linktube · 7 months
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this gmmore where link is being short and snappy with people and their precious trinkets is killing me, its so funny. see he can make being mean for the sake of it funny he just needs to be more interesting about it
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dumbseee · 4 days
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oh shit.
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pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.
pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.
genre: fluff
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- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.
- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.
- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.
- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.
- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?
- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.
- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.
- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.
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mockerycrow · 10 months
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Hello!!!!!! So i was wonderinfg if you could do a piece for cod mw2? A platonic 141 (other characters can be added if youd like) x (preferably 18-20 yr old) gn or fem reader. It can be a oneshot or headcannons, i dont mind either format!!! If you do a oneshot, any scenario (a mission, off duty, etc) is fine w me!!! You basically have free reign, just keep it strictly platonic, not even a smidge of the hints w the reader and romantic relationships 👍❤️
Ain’t That A Kick In The Head? (Platonic!141 x Fem!Reader)
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cod masterlist
A/N: YESS!! I LOVE PLATONIC FICS!! 99% of my writing so far has been romantic, kind of funny considering I’m aromantic and queer. thank you anon <3 i’m also sorry for taking so long. your speciality isn’t specified, but it can’t be demolitions, im sorry!! plot purposes.
[WARNINGS: mentioned misogyny, fluff.]
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Considering how young you are, you deal with quite a lot of people who have low expectations for you. To be fair, you don’t have much experience, but you are a quick learner and that’s very much needed on this base. You’re a Specialist, one rank above Private in the U.S. army ranks. When people first meet you, they expect you to be a coward, a twenty year old girl—is what they like to call you—who doesn’t know the difference between a 5.56 mm cartridge and a 7.62 mm cartridge, a clueless little girl. Of course you did not know everything, but it was clear you know enough and have enough skill as you’re apart of the 141.
When you were first picked for the team, Ghost was a bit skeptical. Your age played a big factor because he was concerned about your level of experience, but he overall trusts Price’s judgement. A huge part of it was him worried about how you would take in all of the traumatizing sights they see on every mission. How you would be able to take someone down without a second thought, even if they pleaded for their life. He didn’t voice this worry, nor did he do anything to “shield” you because he knows you know what you signed up for.
You physically train/spar with Ghost and Gaz separately frequently. They are different in size and in style of defense/attack, so they both give you great pointers on how to defend yourself and how to initiate an attack. You have a schedule with them; when you’re on base, you train with Gaz Mondays and Tuesdays and Ghosts on Thursdays, preferably early in the morning with Gaz and in the evening with Ghost. Even when you perfect your own style for attack and defense, you keep training with them; “So you don’t get rusty.”
Price knows what you signed up for, and he knows that he picked you, so like everyone else on the task force, he begins to train you. Being an expert in violence and timing—unconventional warfare too, he occasionally sits in on your training sessions with Gaz and/or Ghost. Sometimes, he talks with Gaz or Ghost beforehand to set up a specific scenario for you to find a way to get out of alive.
Being said, Price takes you out as well as the team to a training field, doing the exact same thing but in a more.. realistic scenario. Being so young, he figures you still have an unacceptable type of response with “fight, flight, or freeze”. His plan is to strip away the freeze response because that’s the one that will get you killed. He also very specifically has himself and your teammates as the enemies in this field because while you’re supposed to trust your team with your life, there’s also often betrayal in the field.
Soap is a demolitions expert, as well as a sniper. He absolutely refuses to let you handle real bombs at first because he knows you didn’t specialize in demolitions like he did. After spending a few months with you, he brings out non-dangerous replicas of bombs and replicated parts to begin to show you how to take a bomb apart/defuse it, when it’s best to let it explode, or how to put one together for emergencies. He absolutely 110% makes sure you know it’s for emergencies when he isn’t there. It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable, but he can’t help but worry. Him learning about how Gaz and Price met, how Price only had seconds to shove the hostage with a bomb vest strapped to him over that railing? Fucking terrifying to him.
Gaz also helps you complete your interrogation training—not being the interrogator, but then interrogatee. Undergoing several mentally challenging tests himself of this variety, he tasks himself with giving you pointers. Your task is to keep your mouth shut about intel and escape the facility and remain hidden, uncaptured during the entire test. He’s so incredibly used to uncomfortable situations, so his pointers during this—seeing that he passed this test himself, the only one who past it in his class—his advice is helpful.
Besides training with Ghost, he coaches you ambushes and stealth. Every time you’re caught in a test, he coaches you on how to evade, on how to remain hidden even when the enemy is right in front of you. He teaches you how to set up traps and ruses, what traps are most commonly used and spotted and what ones aren’t.
Overall, they know you’re inexperienced and young, but you quickly take their advice and training into account, and you get to teach them a thing or two when you arrive on base. You learn quick and Price finally feels as if you’re ready for an intense stealth mission, accompanied by the team. They don’t have any doubt held in their hearts for you, 100% trusting your abilities.
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whatwooshkai · 2 months
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"put this guy in earthspark" "put that guy in earthspark" I think you are all correct but I've been thinking about it so here's who I would love to see in earthspark and why:
-sunstreaker and sideswipe (this show is all about family when was the last time the twins were on screen together huh. they are speedster twins twitch and thrash would love them)
-ironhide (would be plotting megatron's demise the second he saw him. like optimus' scary dog who barks every time megatron gets too close "he don't bite" "YES HE DO")
-jazz and prowl (I think they should show up together. I think prowl needs someone to handle people for him because if he showed up by himself it would not end well. also I love jazz and find their dynamic fun, plus jazz would love the terrans)
-ratchet and deadlock (specifically deadlock. it would be so funny. imagine ratchet comes into camp and they're like "holy shit thank god finally an actual medic who can help us" but look he's got the cybtertronian equivalent of a feral attack dog following him that adores him and hates everyone else and he's not doing anything about it)
-thundercracker and buster (GIVE HIM HIS DOG!! bonus points if skywarp and starscream are like "oh we don't know about thundercracker. we lost him years ago. we hope one day to find him and welcome him with open arms" and this whole time he's had a dog and been writing screenplays like "oh they know I'm fine" [they don't])
-first aid (I love ratchet but bro's been dominating the medical field. put first aid in. or literally any other medic actually. put fucking pharma in and let him go wild. that would be fun. but back to first aid I love his character and I think his "I'm a medic, but..." attitude would fit perfectly, and he'd love the terrans)
-pharma
-whirl (do it you fucking cowards. and don't do it like cyberverse. make him unhinged. he would be such a bad influence it would be great)
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an-idyllic-novelist · 1 month
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Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day
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warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.
Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!
Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!
Reblog to support content creators! ❤️
Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 
Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 
But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 
Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 
You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 
You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.
 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 
You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  
You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 
 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 
You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 
Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?
When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”
Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!
 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  
Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 
To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 
He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 
You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 
There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.
Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 
It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 
Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 
Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 
This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 
He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 
He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 
He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 
You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 
You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”
It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!
Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 
Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 
Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 
He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 
At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 
Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 
And by God you did. 
When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 
Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 
At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 
A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 
In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 
So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 
“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 
Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”
“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 
Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 
“Care to dance?”
Taglist: @alastor-simp @alastorsgoldie @food-theorys-blog @nunezs-stuff @lbcreations-blog @imperfectbloodmoon @crystalrose36 @nixie-writes @isuckatwritingsobenice @tired-of-life-86 @frompeach @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @witch-of-writing-desk @mary-v193 @chewbrry @mmelionsblog @ladymothbeth @the-cat-queen-peasants @anielly-2010 @victheauthor @alyriaschoenheit @blumin8 @akemika75 @f4turemom @kameyo-kumo @aloenemonabee27 @doc-tooth @theuknowntravel3r @angelltheninth @solandis-does-stuff @navierkalani @deathmetalunicorn1 @star-fawn21 @sleepy-hutao @gamerxpfighter @no1sillybilly @frenchtoastmafia @candyladycry @bladeismine @bones4thecats
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kateis-cakeis · 1 month
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Do you ever think about how the scene where Arthur catches Merlin with a dress in S2Ep9, and the scenes where Arthur is like "girl??????" in S5Ep8
that it's like just a lil bit suggested that Arthur thinks Merlin is both into men and crossdresses (which does that suggest some kind of queer culture in Camelot where gay men are known to do drag?? who knows) and not only thinks that, but accepts it too.
Like Arthur who is presented with the fact that Merlin might wear dresses in his spare times just shrugs and says what a man does in his spare time is up to him, and that the colour suits him.
He literally could have made any joke about Merlin being a girl like he often does when he teases Merlin about being a coward (which we know is just teasing) but instead he just accepts it, and still calls Merlin a man.
Meanwhile in The Hollow Queen, well, I'll let the lines speak for themselves:
GUINEVERE: He’s not in danger. He’s seeing a girl.
ARTHUR: Merlin?
GUINEVERE: Gaius, I’m sorry, but there is no reason to worry.
ARTHUR: Except for the poor girl.
---
ARTHUR: Oh, so you can go and visit that girl again.
MERLIN: What?
ARTHUR: Girl.
MERLIN: Don't have one.
ARTHUR: That's not what Guinevere tells me. So, why don't you tell us all about her?
MERLIN: Right.
ARTHUR: And why you're walking with a limp.
---
The first lines could be interpreted that Arthur doesn't think Merlin is good with women, but paired with the lines from the 2nd scene where Arthur asks him about it.... it definitely feels like Arthur is saying to worry for the girl because he thinks Merlin isn't attracted to women.
I mean the sheer disbelief alone when he says "Merlin?" like it's so out of realm of possibility. (I mean it could also be suggested that Arthur doesn't think anyone would be attracted to Merlin, but with the 2nd scene it definitely doesn't seem so.)
Especially the way he says "girl" with sarcasm dropping from his tone, like literally "girrrl" is how he says it. Like he's basically calling out Merlin, or saying that he knows that the girl Gwen told him about is actually a man.
Which I believe is why the "and why you're walking with a limp" has Arthur so, well,
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like this. I think he truly believes that Merlin is lying sjhdfghsdfg Like he's thinking in that little brain of his that Merlin got pegged by a man and just isn't admitting to it.
And he's definitely accusing Merlin of sneaking away to have sex, you know, during an important time and all.
Basically, with these like 3 scenes in the show, I'd say it really comes off as Arthur accepting Merlin as gay and just waiting for the day where Merlin tells him the truth.
And that's really funny to me.
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Why doesn't Batfam age? Because they're vampires, all of them except Damian Wayne
Let me explain:
Everything starts years ago when Dick moved to Blüdhaven, he found the Vampire court there and - in one failed mission - he becomes one
Dick starts living as a vampire and adapts himself very well to his new life, Bruce dislikes it and both argue a lot
Dick tries to convince Bruce that becoming a vampire is a good choice, being Batman is not enough, Bruce is still a human, one day he will become old and the city will still need Batman. Bruce needs to do more. Be more. But Bruce rejected this idea and did not become a vampire.
Tiny Jason then shows up, canon stuff happens and then Jason died
This destroys Bruce, "if I listen Dick, Jason could be alive now" he blames himself, guilt eating him inside, Jason could be alive if Bruce was not a coward, if Bruce was a vampire he could save Jason. Jason died because he was weak
And Bruce doesn't want to be weak anymore
Dick then turns Bruce into a vampire days after Jason's funeral
Alfred also becomes a vampire that night, both by Dick
When Tim shows up Bruce is already a vampire, he rejected Tim in the start but afraid to lose Tim in the same way he loses Jason, he asked if Tim wants to become a vampire as well
Tim, desperate for acceptance and to be part of something important, accept
Bruce bites Tim and turns him into a vampire
When Stephanie appears, she automatically refuses the invitation, "you're not my dad, Batman"
Unfortunately, after her incident with Black Mask, Bruce bites her against her will
Bruce finds her covered in blood, pale and breathing weakly. Almost dying. He's losing a child again. Something he promised would never happen again. But then Stephanie is dying. Desperate to save that child and redeem himself, Bruce bites her
Stephanie was very hurt by this and moved away from vigilantism for a while to adapt to her new life. This cursed.
Surprising Cassandra accepts without hesitation, no one really understands her reasons for accepting this
Cass has a slight adjustment problem at first, but she tries to live as much as possible as if nothing has changed
And then Jason Todd returns
He is really hurt (emotionally) for all this shit and hates Bruce for what he did and what he didn't
Jason also hates Tim in the start for having accepted this shit so easily
No Bruce or Alfred can't convince Jason to become a vampire (they don't want to lose Jason again)
Then who bites him? Dick
They fight a lot, but Dick Grayson is charismatic, he always gets what he wants and this time there's no difference, Dick bites Jason
Years past and then there is Damian
The blood son, the heir of the Demon
Everyone is sure that Dick will bite Damian, they're close to each other, and in true Dick almost did it, but then Damian rejected
They fought really bad that night, Dick lost and Damian doesn't talk with him for a month after that accident
No one knows what happened
Why did Damain reject this?
They all thought Damian wanted to become part of the family, then why Damian rejected this?
After a while Duke Thomas joined the family, he hesitated to become a vampire in the start, but in the end he accepted it
This becomes the most funny joke of all time because his powers
And Damian is still the only human
Once again Bruce tried to lure Damian to become a vampire and once again there was a bloody fight, and in the end Damian is still a human and he stopped talking with Bruce for two months after that
All important members of Justice league know about the vampire family and accept it very well (it was a mess in the start but Batman is there for so long, they don't see him and his family as dangerous anymore)
Damian dies and comes back and he is still a human
Jon then becomes his friend, and all Kent house is chocked when they see Damian eat his vegetarian food
"Aren't you a vampire?" "No"
They assume that Bruce doesn't want to turn a kid into a vampire and let Damian grow a little. They're wrong about that
Time passes and Damian is now a teenager, life is own life doing his own stuff, not as Batman, not as Robin either Demon, just he own hero path
Jon is unsure when Damian will become a vampire, then he decided to ask his best friend about this
"tt" Damian is tired of this vampire shit, he knows how his family looks for him, every single one already tried to talk about this stuff with him and this always ends in a mess. Actually he is not surprised with the ask, but who is asking. Jon, his best friend. The stupid half alien and Damian are just tired
then Damian decides to talk the truth, the same truth he talks at Dick, Bruce and Alfred years ago after they stop fighting against each other. The same truth who is always together with the silence treatment
"My mother... She is not perfect, she made a lot of mistakes as well my father too, she turned me who I am and she also told me about this vampire thing, and she said she wouldn't be mad if I became like him, and in the past I also wanted to become like him but now..."
"but now?" Jon started Damian, the half alien is always curious about this fact and he doesn't understand why Damian is talking about his mom
"when I choose to live with my father and give up the league I thought it would be different, but then here we go Damian, there's a vampire cult with people who fear the dead and, even when they deny it, they also seek for power. The truth is I'm tired of cults, Ra's or Wayne's, they're not so different, this is still a cult"
"I... I don't want to live like them, Jon, I want to die as a human, Batman becomes an immortal and the demon head is also immortal. I don't fear the dead, I want to die as a human"
I just like to think about the potential angst with Damian and his family, how betrayed he will feel when he realizes that Dick and Bruce are not so different from Ra's, people afraid of death
In the worst case scenario Damian becomes a vampire against his will, who did it? Tim Drake
It was an extreme a desperate situation, Tim Drake just wants to save his baby brother lives and ignore Damain pleading to let him die
That was the first time that the house saw Damian crying. He understands why Tim did it, but still he feels betrayed and sobs with this curse
Damian is inconsolable for days and isolates himself, becoming exactly what he always feared, an immortal who steals people's lives to gain power exactly what his grandfather always said he would become
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imagine waiting for bucky
angst/fluff
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The sound of sirens echoed in your eyes and the phantom touch of his hand on yours burned your soul. It was dramatic, but that’s how you felt. Every time he looked in your direction, it hurt. How could this have happened? Months of bliss and bed sharing, his fingers on your skin – his mouth on your neck. The way his arm would sling around your shoulders, walking side by side until you got too silly and wouldn’t stop bumping into him. He’d call for a truce, pull you in for a kiss; every time, it never failed and now he’s standing in front of you after disappearing for months.
“How have you been?”
“Is that supposed to be a joke? I’m not in a funny kind of mood, I’m working.”
Bucky held his tongue because he had no right to object to the tone of your voice or the disdain in your eyes; although he hoped it was all feigned, for show. There were agents everywhere and you were certain you were needed somewhere, so you made it known and began to walk away but then he did the one thing that could stop your heart. He called out your name. Turning back to him, you gave an exhausted what and he walked to you. “Can we talk, please.”
“No.” You were blunt, and he flinched, but he wouldn’t budge. Shoulders collapsing from the tension, you sighed. “I can’t James…”
James.
Ouch.
“I owe you an explanation, let me explain.”
He owed you more than an explanation for his disappearance; if time was something that could be bargained or allotted, he’d owed you a bountiful amount. If love could be calculated and weighed, he’d owe a ton. If you weren’t such a foolish person, you would have never allowed him to approach you but here you were, a foolish fool.
“When I look at you, it hurts.” You confessed; eyes fixated on Bucky. “You’ve been gone for seven months without a goddamn word. Even Sam wouldn’t say where you were; how do you think that made me feel? You’re no coward, Bucky, if you didn’t love me…then you should have told me.”
The man’s demeanor shifted; his fist clinched and his eyes hardened. The change made you angry because what did he have to be angry about? He was the one that left you, he wasn’t the one that put their heart on the line just to be forgotten.
“I’ve always loved you. It’s always been you…but I -I was afraid.” What was there to be afraid of, you questioned, and his eyes softened. “After everything I’ve done, I don’t deserve to have you.”
“Grow up,” you snapped, stepping to him. His eyes matched yours and you reached up, giving him a hefty slap. Through your teeth, you told him to stop being a goddamn martyr. “That wasn’t you, you had no control but I’m not going to keep repeating myself. I can’t be responsible for making you feel worthy, you must forgive yourself - not that there is anything to forgive. The people who know you understand what really happened. You want to punish yourself; I can’t stop you but don’t drag me down with you. I can’t take it.”
The tension between your bodies simmered into a low whisper as Bucky closed his eyes; the sirens echoing in his ears and your phantom touch on his face. When he opened his eyes, you were walking away but you hesitated before turning to him. “Are you coming with me or not?”
No words could be used to describe the relief he felt down to his bones when your hand reached out to him – you were right, he needed to stop punishing himself because it was clear it was hurting those around him…especially you. And he had done enough of that. He had hurt you enough that he’d spend the rest of his lifetime making up for it even if it meant being happy. Being in love and living the life that was once stolen from him.  A smile pulled from your lips when his palm touched yours, fingers gripped yours and you knew all you were was a big talker because even if it meant a life time, you’d always wait for him.  
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ccuniculusmolestus · 4 months
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Bunny Corcoran: Mother, Women and Sexuality (Masterpost)
Apologies for the shitty quality screenshot, idk why their quality got butchered.
Anyway I divided this thing into IV parts.
Intro
Camilla
Marion
Henry
INTRO & DISC.
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Not to be a bunny apologist literally, he's sexist piece of shit, but you know whats funny? The way this fandom absolutely REFUSES to acknowledge the fact that, despite Richard's shady ass describing Bunny as "homophobic but not in a repressed way", Bunny could very well be gay or bi at the very least. The fandom just doesn't want to see it because he doesn't form "convenient" enough ships with major characters (he does. You guys are just cowards.)
Yes I know, sexist hetero men despise women just for being women, but they view women purely through a sexual lens. But Bunny's prude ass was NOT a pervert. I mean, this is the guy that got triggered when Richard asked him about his hickey.
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Yes yes sexually repressed people can act prude-ish in front of people but be total pervs when alone, but nothing at all hinted at Bunny being a pervert who viewed women as walking meat bags. I just find it weird that the only two female companions he had (Marion and Camilla, aside from Judy bcs we never see them interact) he just...didn't like them. Camilla he was good to, occasionally, in a very platonic way ("paternalistic stance").
CAMILLA
And you know what drives me crazy? In this group of 5 boys and 1 girl, Bunny was the ONLY one who was never inappropriate (sexually) or sexual with Camilla. Even the openly gay guy in the group had kissed her at least once. Even her own brother-- not finishing that. Henry slept with her too. Richard kissed her, and wanted to sleep with her. Not Bunny. Yes, Bun was cruel to her in other ways, ordering her around, saying she was intellectually inferior, but he showed ZERO romantic interest in her. Which is kind of ironic to me. The only homophobe in that group was the only one not acting straight.
MARION
With Marion, my god, the way this boy behaved.
He called her his "reason of being", the purpose of his existence, but he could barely tolerate her. She was only a clip holding him together from those parts where he was falling apart; wounds left from a neglectful mother. Lets not mention how Marion is sort of an underdeveloped image of his mother; delicate, blonde, somewhat haughty.
That bitterness he probably feels towards Kathy was then pointed to Marion. Its so freaking clear that Marion is filling the "Mother" role in Bunny's life. She's "feminine" (a trait often associated with motherhood and vice versa), she's "bossy and businesslike". I don't need to explain this, I'm sure.
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But watch Bunny's reactions to her; hes submissive for the most part.
For a man who's so incredibly sexist, it doesn't make sense for him to choose such a woman as his partner, does it? Now, either Richard entirely fabricated or exaggerated Bunny's sexism in order to justify his murder, or
His "dislike" for women didn't stem from the weird sexual obsessions misogynists tend to have, but from something else. It could be, purely, his mommy issues, or something else.
You know that whole, Bunny calling Marion that title, but treating her like a chore just reflects what a big performance his relationship truly was. He didn't love Marion, perhaps he liked her, appreciated or cared for her, but he didn't love her. Marion was, like every other thing in his life, just an element to uphold an image of himself. Potential beard? Maybe.
HENRY
Bunny's true "raison d'etre" might have not existed. The only person he could be said to gave been obsessed with was, truly, Henry. And im not just saying this for the sake of it. Bunny was invested in and attached to Henry, perhaps a result of his financial dependence on him.
I don't know guys, I just don't think its normal to snoop around your best friend's things often, or make multiple attempts to read their journal--
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this boy was DESPERATE to know the inner workings of Henry's mind. Mind you, this is BEFORE Bunny found out about the murder, or had reason to suspect Henry for anything. Henry's said he was always nosing around for it, and he mentioned Bunny was an "obtrusive" roommate -- meaning this was normal occurrence for him around Henry. Yes, he was also kind of like this with others (Stealing stranger's foods, stealing Charles' cooking literally as he works in the kitchen) but neither of these required a sense of interest in the person he was stealing from. It was to serve his own needs.
Bunny also shows a reluctance to lose Henry.
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After their fight, he's so overwhelmed that he doesn't know how to react (mentioned by Henry himself), and his first instinct is to try and cling onto whatever shred of normalcy there was left between them. Despite knowing the numerous cruel things Henry had written about him, Bunny just took it. He stayed somewhat amiable to Henry later. Yes, yes. He got annoying about "the blackmail" (or his inability to keep his mouth shut) but Henry and Francis BOTH tell Richard that Bunny doesn't see what he's doing as "blackmail".
In fact, i think Bunny the fool was trying to get "in" on the feeling of being in on a secret. Image below is regarding that German that started following them in Rome.
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But his immediate reaction of pretending everything's fine isn't the first or last time he tries to keep things cool with Henry.
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Henry, despite having to deal with Bunny's worst tantrums, was still treated with a degree of respect that seemed to be reserved only for him. Was he afraid of Henry? Hell no.
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Bunny was never afraid of insulting Henry, or fighting with him. But he rarely ever got personal with him. Yes yes he complained about the money and every little thing, but the way he went after the rest of the class? Targeting their weaknesses? He would've known Henry's weakness, he was perceptive enough. But he didn't. He still treated Henry with respect. Deference. Described as "polite submission and respect".
With Henry, Bunny was totally emotionally vulnerable. Henry reactedd explosively twice during their arguments. The first is when he slapped Bunny so hard that he "left a big white mark on his cheek", and the second where he broke that chair when Bunny was fighting him in his room. Despite losing control, Henry maintained a level of composure. Bunny never did. He became hysterical each time, screaming and becoming violent the first time, but sobbing himself to sleep (IN HENRYS BED) the second time.
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He slept in his bed. There was literally no reason for him to do that.
Except maybe he craved closure. Maybe he just missed his best friend. Maybe he was too shaken up to move from his spot.
And I don't want none of you fools being all "Henry didn't gaf about Bunny."
This is Henry's reaction to Richard essentially saying "You thought Bunny wouldn't be a problem??" And then reiterating that they're old friends.
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Do you even understand the implications of that last line? Bunny, whose entire being was hidden under a carefully crafted persona, admitted his family's SHORTCOMINGS with HENRY. Bunny, whose image was everything for him. Perhaps his image WAS his raison d'etre. Bunny, who lived life as an illusion of his true self, projecting away his insecurities. Bunny, who would never admit that he was poor, that his family was flawed in any way, told Henry this. How many more things do you think he confessed, or what other parts of his past and home did he reveal?
Yes, he could have just been telling Henry those things to mooch him off, but he also mooched off his other friends.they didn't know a thing. Marion, who I believe his family hadn't met yet (?) Probably didn't even know. Amd if youre from a dysfunctional home, you already know the only people you've told about your home are special, hand-picked.
Henry was also the first and only person Bunny told about Camilla/Charles.
Perhaps it hurt him, being left out of such a major events of Henry's life because Bunny was sharing practically everything with him.
Alls I'm saying is, Henry meant more to Bunny than most people realize (and dare I say, vice versa), and the only reason people don't see it is because RICHARD didn't see it (fool saw the potential of the dynamic but then was like "nah bunny's too ugly for that").
Bunny was most definitely either a repressed bisexual/gay man, and you cannot change my mind. And while his hatred of women is vile and inexcusable, it stemmed from a place of deep personal issues and insecurities.
Anyway. I'm done rambling LOL.
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stinkysam · 4 months
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Roronoa Zoro - Fucking idiot.
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Warning : non sexual nudity
Genre : fluff
Synopsis : “Can you do Zoro x top male reader, Cheating prank or towel prank.” - anon
Reader : male (he/you)
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You got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around your hips, your happy trail showing with how low the towel was hanging. You also had a short underneath it, but that, no one knew about it, and you planned to keep it this way.
Zoro, Luffy and Usopp were resting on the hammocks, quietly chatting, eyes closed.
You walked around in the shared bedroom, noticing Nami by the open door talking as well and turned on a den den mushi device that allowed you to play music, catching their attention.
The music played, and you began to sing along, dancing a bit as you continued to rummage in the room for new clothes to put on, purposely taking your time.
You raised the volume, hyping yourself up, not caring if the music was stopping their discussion. Quickly you were into it, dancing and laughing as Usopp and Luffy joined you, wanting to party as well.
You danced holding your towel, not wanting it to fall as Zoro. He could feel that something was off. You seemed too happy. But he thought nothing more of it, shaking his head. You were a dumbass at times, after all.
And then, came the drop.
You pulled on your towel, throwing it to Zoro, revealing yourself nake- in shorts.
Luffy remained unbothered unlike Usopp and Nami who yelled, covering their eyes, turning their heads away as Zoro's eyes widened in surprise, almost falling off of his hammock as he grabbed the towel, throwing it back toward you. You didn't grab it, letting it fall to your feet as you laughed.
“What is wrong with you !?” Yelled Nami, eyes still coveted. “You pervert !”
Zoro saw your shorts and squinted his eyes before rolling them and laying back down, looking away in annoyance.
“You should've seen your face !” You continued laughing. “You froze so hard ! Huh !” You imitated him, fumbling to grab an imaginary towel before laughing again, accompanied by Luffy.
Zoro blushed a bit, not liking your mocking, glaring at you.
“What is wrong with you !?” Repeated Nami, angrier this time as she restrained herself from hitting you.
“I wasn't really scared, I knew it.” Said Usopp to no one in particular, laughing nervously.
You laughed again, briefly apologizing to Nami.
“Tsk… Coward.” Finally said Zoro.
“Ah ?” You raised an eyebrow at his words.
“You should've gone full commando.” He smirked, ignoring Nami's scream of protest.
“You can do what you want between men but not while I'm here !”
You laughed again.
“Maybe I should've !”
“Are you even hearing me !?” Nami yelled, shaking you. “Don't do that again !”
“Why ? That was funny.” Luffy asked, smiling and laughing a bit, still enjoying himself.
“Because I don't want to see [Name] naked ! Idiot !”
“Why would you see him naked ? Are you a pervert ?”
“Luffy…” She sighed, exasperated. “His towel dropped. Everyone thought he was naked.”
“Hey ! I said I knew he wasn't naked !” Reminded Usopp. “I wasn't actually scared I just played along to make him hap-”
“Stop it Usopp, you saw nothing coming. You were as surprised as Zoro and Nami.” You said, cutting him off with a smile, imitating his hiding position.
“I wasn't surprised.” Said Zoro. “I don't care if you get naked in front of them.”
“I do !” Yelled Nami.
“Right. And what was that ?” You said, imitating his surprised face, wide eyes and frozen look. “I gave you a full shock, buddy.”
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes again, looking away. You're too annoying to be looked at.
You giggled, grabbing the towel at your feet and threw it at him, who grabbed it swiftly before jumping out of his hammock to run after you. Your eyes widened and you quickly quickly stormed off, knowing he would try to whip your ass with the towel.
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frost-queen · 1 year
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Blood rivers (Grisha!Reader x Kaz Brekker)
Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,   @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07
Summary: You always have terrible nosebleeds after using your abilities. Which very much worries Kaz. One day you overuse your abilities, passing out. Kaz freaks out as the crows take you back. Kaz never left your side, scolding you with worry after you wake up.
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Kaz came to a stop in the alleyway. His path suddenly blocked by three of Pekka’s men. If it bothered him, he wasn’t showing it. His expression fierce and tense as his knuckles whitened under his gloves on top of his cane. – “We’ve got you surrounded Brekker!” – one of them called out, pointing his way. Kaz glanced side-ways, spotting two more approaching from behind. He briefly let his gaze go upwards, knowing Inej was scanning the roofs somewhere.
He had send Wylan and Jesper on an arrand. Kaz scoffed finding it the coward’s way of surrounding him when he is all by himself. He moved his cane a bit to the side, grabbing it tightly. Feeling the two from behind close in. Keeping them close in mind, he was ready to strike them down with his cane and unleash the fight. Kaz picked up his cane, ready to swing it behind him when he heard those two man grunt.
Eyes widening he spun around seeing them clutch for their hearts. Kaz’s gaze moving sideways from them to you suddenly getting in sight. – “Miss me?” – you asked Kaz with a flirtatious smile. Hands held in front of you to keep those men under control. You moved more to the front, exhaling loud. – “The heartrender!” – you heard one of them call out from behind Kaz. It made you chuckle devious bringing the final blow to those two men.
They dropped to their knees, unconscious. Panting loud you lowered your hands. Swallowing deep, you blinked thoughtfully. A thin drop of red coming under your nose. It made Kaz’s eyes widen at the side of your nosebleed. Mouth open to breath through, you held your head back, hand ready to catch any falling blood. – “Y/n.” – Kaz said lowly with worry. He sensed the three men too late, but you didn’t.
Kaz gasped loud, startled when one dared to raise his arm at him. You immediately moved your fingers, keeping them under your control. Blood dripping down your lips, breathing out loud. – “You cowards should know Brekker never comes unprepared.” – you called out, moving closer to them. They were coughing, sinking through their knees, finding it hard to breath.
Kaz kept staring at you, eyes focused on the blood dripping down onto the ground. Droplets of red marking the dirty ground. – “I should kill you!” – you made clear, vengeance in your eyes. The men groaned in pain, squirming in pain. Kaz picked his cane up, whacking Pekka’s men unconscious before you could harm them any further.
The loss of control made you stumble backwards out of breath. Lips stained red; you licked them. Tasting the blood on your tongue. Kaz inhaled sharp through his nose, turning furious at you. The stare he was giving you enough to beg for mercy on your bare knees.
Flicking his wrist forwards, he pointed the crow’s head your way. With the head of the crow, tilting your head back by your chin. – “Hold that shut!” – he ordered. You pinched your nose tight, gasping through your mouth for air. – “You could’ve said thank you.” – you answered, sounding a bit funny. He tensed his jaw, tilting your head more back as you had moved it forwards to look at him. – “You could’ve staid out of it. I don’t need to find my heartrender dead one faithful night.” – he replied rudely, pressing the crow’s head deeper onto your throat.
“You would’ve just found yourself another one.” – you spoke back pushing his cane off your throat. Kaz clenched his jaw, hand tensing, ready to strike you down with words if he hadn’t been interrupted by Wylan and Jesper. Wylan was the first one to notice your nosebleed. – “Are you alright Y/n.” – he asked running over.
Jesper’s eyes widening. – “Again?” – he said coming after Wylan to you. You shrugged your shoulders at him. Wylan tilted your head back down as you had lowered it again. – “Y/n I thought we went through this.” – Jesper sighed out, pulling out a handkerchief. – “I know… I know…” – you responded. – “Has… has this happened before?” – Wylan wanted to know looking concerned over to Jesper.
“Every time this darn fool uses her abilities.” – Jesper held the handkerchief out to you with a brotherly scowl. Wylan took it from him, holding it around your nose to stop the bleeding. – “Unusual…” – Wylan muttered out. – “What will you have me do?” – you said barely understandable for them. – “What?” – Jesper called out, hands to his hips. You groaned loud with an eye roll. – “Let’s just get her inside.” – Wylan suggested. Jesper nodded, only now aware of the men scattered on the ground. – “Were you ambushed?” – he asked Kaz.
Kaz shot him a glare, gesturing at him to get a move on. Wylan and Jesper held you by the elbow, escorting you back. Jesper opened the door to Wylan’s lab, letting you in. Wylan assisting you down the steps so you wouldn’t trip. Jesper quickly snatched his shirt from under you before you’d sit on it. – “I think I got something to stop the bleeding.” – Wylan said looking nervously over to Kaz. Kaz quirked his eyebrow up as if his concern was of any significance.
Jesper removed his blood stained handkerchief from your nose, wanting to see if it had stopped. When it didn’t, he pinched your nose shut, almost making you snort. – “Saints Y/n.” – Jesper sighed out coming to sit beside you. Wylan returned with something in a bottle, intriguing Kaz. He looked concerningly and frightened your way, not sure what effect it would have on you. Clenching his hand, knuckles rubbing against the fabric of his leather gloves.
Jesper removed his hand from you letting Wylan do his thing. You were hesitant of it, but within the minute your nosebleed came to a slow end. You took a cautious breathing through your nose, not wanting to overstimulate anything. Wylan and Jesper sighed out relieved. Fingers stained with your blood. Kaz threw them a cloth, Jesper catching it. He cleaned your nose and lips. Kaz swallowing when the fabric rubbed over your lips.
Quickly turning his head away. Jesper then cleaned his fingers, handing the cloth over to Wylan. Wylan took Jesper’s seat coming to sit beside you. Jesper moving away towards Kaz. He crossed his arms, brushing his finger thoughtfully over his lips. – “This is getting out of hand, isn’t it?” – he asked Kaz. – “What if things get worse or she’ll end up dead.” – Kaz turned his head sharply towards Jesper. – “No!” – he called out loud, not wanting to think of it. Jesper moved his hands up in defense. – “I’m just concerned.” – he answered, looking over at you.
Kaz’s gaze went over to you as well, knowing deep down he too was concerned. You smiled nervously with Wylan sitting beside you. This might ever be the first time it was just him and you. – “So… does this always happen when you use your abilities?” – he asked. You nodded, palms rubbing against each other. – “How…when did it start? I mean it is unusual…” – he deepened his question.
You pulled your shoulders up. – “It just happened… I can’t say why.” – you were startled when Wylan dropped his hand on yours. – “Don’t worry. I will try to get to the bottom of its understanding.” – he reassured you, making you move your other hand on top of his. – “Thank you, Wylan.” – He squeezed your hand comforting.
────────────────────────────────────────
Panting loud, you had your hands out. Sturdy on your feet, chest rising and falling. – “Y/n no!” – Jesper called out, staring in shock at you. – “Stop it!” – Inej insisted, holding her knives tightly. – “I’m still breathing!” – you called out as if they were exaggerating. Wylan gulped nervously laying down on the ground. Kaz tensing his jaw with a glare as he slowly got up from his knees.
The two men behind him who had grabbed him, squirming on the ground. – “Enough.” – he said soft. You felt a push go through your fingers, controlling their pulse to slow down. – “Enough!” – Kaz called out louder, setting his cane firmly on the ground. You weren’t supposed to be here. Kaz specifically ordered you to stay out of it, yet once again you didn’t listen. When it came to Kaz, you rather put yourself in danger than see anyone touch him.
You had snuck up from behind, interfering before any of the other crows could. Leading to this exact moment in an abandoned street in Ketterdam. – “Not until I watch them bleed!” – you shouted, making pushing further to make them cough up blood. Kaz’s eyes widened seeing the blood run down your nose.
It made you wipe a finger underneath it, staring down at the blood. More men came running around the corner to join their mates. Jesper widened his eyes. – “Don’t you dare.” – he shouted seeing in your eyes you wanted to finish them. You ignored his pleads, performing a sequence of hand movements. – “Stop her!” -  Kaz ordered. Inej looked down at her daggers, hesitating if she should throw one at you. Jesper was staring also pained down at his gun.
If they needed to stop you, this was not the way. You took control of the group of men behind your friends. Making them all grasp for air, slowly suffocating them. It was getting harder for you to breath trying to keep them all under control. With one swift motion, you knocked them out, panting loud. The world went black as you dropped to the ground. The impact barely making itself aware of the pain. The deafened sounds of your name being screamed out, dying out.
Kaz came to a stop, breathless. Staring in shock down at your fallen body. Jesper and Inej trying to shake you awake. Wylan pacing anxiously with his hands in his hair. The beating of his heart echoed through his mind, making itself loudly present. His ears ringing, knees buckling. Jesper picked you up, placing you over his shoulder as Inej made sure you were stable. – “I told her to stop!” – Jesper called out furious. – “Why wouldn’t she listen? Does she has a dead wish?” – he panicked, looking worriedly at Inej.
“Jes!” – Inej shouted, snapping him out of it. – “Scolding her isn’t going to do anyone any good!” – she made clear. Jesper nodded, tears building up in the corner of his eyes. The crows started returning with you safely. Kaz following numbly. Wylan opened the door, running over to the bed to make room. – “No!” – Kaz said loudly, making everyone freeze. – “Take her upstairs!” – he ordered. Inej nodded assisting Jesper in taking you upstairs. Wylan followed, tears rolling down his cheek. They laid you down on a bed. Kaz staying as far away from you as possible.
Kaz watched in agony as Wylan rushed to the side of your bed, clutching your hand. Scolding you with a crackling voice unable to control his emotions. Jesper had to pull him away before it would wreck him too. Inej made them go downstairs with her. Kaz remaining in the room. Watching you from afar. He slowly approached, coming to sit close by the bed. He stared down at your hand. If only he dared to touch it. He’d hold it so tight; you couldn’t let go. Resting on his cane, he held watch, staring mindlessly in front of him.
You groaned softly, squirming in the bed as you slowly came awake. Kaz’s eyes hardening with anger. You fluttered your eyes open, gasping in shock at Kaz sitting by the bed. – “I told you to take a break!” – he shouted. – “You wouldn’t listen! You never listen to me Y/n!” – he accused you. You pressed your knuckles into the bed, sitting up straight. – “You could’ve been… Why did you!” – his voice raging.
“Because I didn’t want to be useless!” – you answered loudly to bicker with him. – “What good am I if I can’t be your heartrender! It is the very reason why I am here. Why you hired me! If I don’t have that anymore… I’m just nothing.” – your hand untensed, head lowering. – “You are indeed of value, but not enough to get yourself killed! I’d rather have you alive and useless then functioning and dead!” – he took a deep breath after getting all worked up.
“From now on you take breaks when I say you do!” – he insisted making you smile. Smile at how caring he was in his own way. – “Why are you smiling?” – Kaz asked, caught off guard. – “Cause you care.” – you answered blowing a kiss at him. Kaz swallowed nervously, staring your way.
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stvrmhondss · 7 months
Text
it was breaking down (it was falling in love) snippet
max/charles 3.1k words
this is from a wip that is currently in development. we're in 2025, charles and max are fighting each other for the championship for the first time since 2022. max, as always, in red bull. charles, by the grace of god, still in ferrari. it gets complicated.
The party after the last race before summer break isn’t a tradition officially, but somehow there’s always been one; a simple text in the drivers’ group chat letting them know that xyz and I are getting drinks later, you’re all welcome to join and when the rest of them show up to the address provided, there’s somehow always an entire house rented and seemingly bottomless drinks. It’s one of those mysteries of F1 that Charles thinks he’ll never crack.
For the past few years the summer break kickoff has been an opportunity for him to celebrate, not in a let’s raise a glass to a good first half of the season way, but more of a thank god that’s over kind of way. It had always consisted of systematically knocking back glass after glass until he’d been drunk enough to let whatever girlfriend he’d had at the time drag him onto the dancefloor, if he’d had one at the time.
(He always did.)
(Except this year)
For the first time in his F1 career, Charles is leading the championship at the start of the summer break and instead of forcing every driver and his own mechanics to have a drink with him, he’s making himself as small and invisible as possible in a corner, right beside a potted palm tree that straddles the line between looking extremely well cared for and extremely fake. He’s been nursing the same cocktail for almost an hour and has avoided every driver, staffer or intern who wanted to drink to his championship charge. He’s not in the mood. He’s even managed to chase away Alex and Lily to the bar, if just temporarily, his teammate vowing to get him another round to pull him out his funk.
Instead he’s been letting his gaze roam over the open floor, taking note of the people there and pretending he isn’t looking for Max. It’s going semi-well. Charles hadn’t seen him when he’d entered the house with Alex and he hasn’t spotted him since. He’s also been too much of a coward to just grab someone, another driver or a stray Red Bull intern, and ask them whether they’d seen him, whether he’s even here at all. Maybe, it’s for the best – he wouldn’t know what to say to Max anyway. Have you tried a simple ‘I’m sorry’? The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Pierre and it has him take a long sip from his glass.
The horrible thing is, Pierre is right. He should really apologise, but it’s been so long since their fight in Monaco and the silence between them has gotten so loud, he wouldn’t know where to start. He’s also not entirely sure Max wouldn’t just walk away from him if he were to approach him now. Hence his hiding in the corner.
After emptying his glass, he looks around the room again. He spots Lewis on the dance floor, chatting up a model he knows for a fact is too young for him. A little ways off to the side he sees Lando hanging off of his Max’s shoulders and Charles tries valiantly to ignore the ugly twisting of his insides. It reminds him of Imola, just a few short months ago – how Max had told him to let go for once and had stood vigil as he’d gotten drunk and celebrated his first win on Italian soil since 2019, how Max had let him cling to him when he hadn’t been able to stand upright on his own anymore and then had called them both a taxi and had gotten him home. Funny how he’d managed to ruin it all with a single sentence.
Charles is pulled out of his thoughts by wild waving in his periphery and when he turns his head he spots Pierre over by a window with his new girlfriend, whose name Charles had forgotten the minute he’d been introduced to her, obviously trying to get his attention. Confused, he shakes his head and mouths a What? in his direction, to which Pierre starts pointing in the direction of the door in response, an insistent look on his face. Charles turns his head just in time to see Daniel Ricciardo enter the party and he’d wonder about seeing him here when he’d given up his AlphaTauri seat last year in favour of a go in Indycar, if following right behind him wasn’t—
Max.
Charles watches as they’re stopped by multiple people on their way in – there’s plenty of hugs for Daniel and claps on the shoulder for Max – and make a beeline for the impromptu bar. Daniel sees him about halfway there and Charles fights and consequently loses against the urge to shrink in on himself when the instinctive smile he throws at everyone turns into a scowl at the sight of him. So, Max had told him then. Charles doesn’t know what else he’d expected.
(Not this. He hadn’t even known they were still close.)
Max doesn’t look at him once.
He should stop staring, knows it very well won’t help his case in any way, but his eyes stay glued to Max’s form, taking him in – blonde hair, blue eyes, standard white t-shirt and jeans. All viewed from afar, as has become standard over the past few weeks. Charles wants to kick himself. He wonders what would happen if he were to throw aside his pride and cowardice and go over to him now, if he asked to speak to him, to explain. Would Max even spare him a glance? Would he frown and grumble and tell him to fuck off? Would Daniel’s scowl become more severe and would he tell him to get lost?
He doesn’t plan on finding out.
So he watches. Watches as Daniel leans exaggeratedly over the bar to order some drinks and then back to whisper something in Max’s ear that has him laugh in that full-body way of his – head thrown back and hands clasped together, then bending forward, eyes crinkled at the corners and nose scrunched up. Full of delight, full of life. When Max seems to have calmed down a little he moves closer to Daniel, a mischievous look on his face, no doubt saying something just as cheeky in return, and Charles sees Daniel break out in one of his honking laughs before throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in. Just for a moment, Max rests his head on his shoulder and Daniel turns his face into his hair. Just for a moment. Blink and you miss it.
And Charles? Well, Charles wants to die.
Alex and his tray full of drinks are a godsend, Lily clearing the way for him as they come back to join him in his miserable corner, and Charles grabs a glass and knocks it back before Alex even has a chance to put the tray down. When he puts the glass back down, Lily lets out a hoot, slapping the table, while Alex scoffs at him goodnaturedly.
“Were you raised in a barn, mate?” He’s chuckling, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “Where I’m from, you wait until everyone has a glass and then you drink like your life depends on it.” Next to him, Lily cackles, pressing the next drink into his hand and then grabbing one for herself.
“Sorry,” he’s not, really, only tangentially in the way that Alex has been a good sport ever since his fight with Max, letting him be miserable and not making him explain why, and Charles feels bad for making him put up with his bad mood when it’s his first season in the team and he should be having fun instead of babysitting him. But then again, misery and Ferrari go hand in hand and Alex should probably learn to live and work with that, if he wants to survive in the team.
Charles’ fingers itch for another drink.
“Oh, who cares?” Lily raises her glass and waits for them to mirror her. “Let’s fucking party!”
Right before he knocks back his drink, Charles spares another glance over to Max and Daniel, just to see, just because he’s feeling curious and maybe a little masochistic, pressing a finger into an open wound. What he sees makes him down half of the contents of his tall glass all at once – Max is fully pressed into Daniel’s side, Daniel’s arm around his waist, fingers on that tantalising dip of it that Charles had found himself staring at more than once, and Daniel’s once again leaning in, whispering something into his ear that makes him smile. Charles wants to throw up.
He loses track of how much he drinks after that.
One, two, ten hours later, he looks up from his fourth – twelfth? – glass and sees Max making his way over to and up a stairwell that he vaguely remembers leads to a balcony. He’s alone, Daniel nowhere in sight. Without a second thought, he excuses himself from the table and stumbles over to follow him before Alex and Lily can protest. The way up the stairs is perilous and he has to cling to the bannister to hold himself upright, hoping he’s not making so much noise he gives himself away. 
When he finally reaches the balcony, he finds it miraculously empty, except for Max, standing at the railing and looking out into the night. A few lanterns bathe him in soft, warm light and Charles’ heart squeezes painfully in his chest. He’s so beautiful, always has been in his own way, the charmingly gangly, awkward teenage limbs turned strong and broad, handsome. Growing up alongside Max had been complicated and a little painful – at 15 years old, how do you know you hate the guy you’re competing against because of his dirty tricks and raw talent and not because his eyes are as blue as a summer sky? How do you know your palms are sweaty because of the adrenaline of a good fight on track and not because he smirked at you right before he put his helmet on? They’re questions Charles has never quite managed to answer and is keenly reminded of now at 27 years old, standing on a balcony somewhere in Belgium with his heart beating out of his chest at the mere sight of Max. He doesn’t think he’ll ever have a clear answer. 
His drunken lean to the side has him knock over a decorative cat figurine with a loud clang, startling Max in front of him like a deer hearing a sudden noise in what it had assumed to be an empty clearing. He whips around and when he sees Charles trying to right himself, an unhappy scowl settles on his pretty lips.
“What do you want, Charles?”
I want to go back in time and smack myself for what I said to you. I want you to smile at me like you used to, like you smiled at Daniel and I don’t know what that means. I want us to be okay. I want to win and I want you by my side when I do. I want us to be alright.
“Nothing, I just—,” he’s pretty sure he’s slurring, which seems to not be helping his case as Max’s expression doesn’t lighten. In fact, it does the opposite, making Charles trail off, falling quiet as Max looks at him expectantly. He doesn’t remember what he’d originally wanted to say, so instead he throws out the first thing that comes to his mind after Your eyes have the colour of a storm I once saw while out at sea.
“You haven’t talked to me since Monaco,” it’s meant as an explanation, but once the words leave his mouth, they sound like an accusation. Max’s frown deepens, his eyebrows furrowing and the corners of his mouth pulling further down. A little more and he’d be pouting. It’s one of the things that’s never changed about him, Charles ponders idly. That stormy, unhappy frown. The only difference between a 27 year old and a 13 year old Max Verstappen frowning at him is a missing, involuntary flush to his cheeks and the lack of acne. The other boys had always made fun of him for it back then – how easily he’d flush, how quickly he’d get irritated. Charles had never minded either; he’d thought it made Max seem more alive.
Now, Max looks alive in a primordial sense, the way the earth itself is – burning, blazing, vengeful.
“Well, I wonder why,” his voice is venomous, face twisted in an ugly sneer, “I wonder why I would not be speaking to you after Monaco.”
Charles feels helpless, like a fumbling child. “No, no, that’s not what I meant—“ But he doesn’t know how to actually express what he wants to say, his mind foggy and slow. He wants to curse Alex for bringing that entire tray of drinks to the table. 
He continues to stutter, without saying anything of worth, and he can see Max is losing what little patience he’d had to begin with and – yes, there’s that angry, red flush that’s been missing in his cheeks before.
“Do you actually have anything to say to me,” Max’s shoulders are heaving, his breath heavy, “or do you just want to waste my time and stand here, staring at me like a drunk idiot?”
It’s meant to cut him and it does; Charles flinches from the impact, sure that if he were to raise his fingers to his cheek, they’d come away bloody. The thing is, he has so much to say, so many things that have been long overdue, that he should’ve said months, maybe years ago, but now that he has Max in front of him, in all his furious beauty, his brain can’t put the words in order, can’t form the sentences he needs to say to salvage whatever he had, could’ve had, with Max. The alcohol isn’t helping either.
In his drunken stupidity, he says the worst thing he could possibly say in this moment.
“I saw you with Daniel, earlier.”
It’s horrible, it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever said. It does nothing to convey what he actually wants Max to hear, instead he manages to make it sound like an accusation again when all he’d wanted to say was I saw you with Daniel earlier and you looked happy, happier than you have over the past few weeks and I wanted to kick myself for being the source of your sadness, when I only want to see you smile and laugh and be joyful. 
Max’s face is wrathful, his breath quickening and Charles isn’t quite sure whether he’s just imagining the thunder he hears in the distance.
“You can’t be fucking serious,” his voice is tight, controlled and shaking with white hot rage. Charles resists the urge to flinch. He deserves Max’s anger and he’ll take it. He’ll take anything Max is still willing to give him.
“I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and yet you complain about me not talking to you when you haven't even tried to speak with me. I thought you needed time to cool off, so I gave you space, of course, but you keep insisting on this childish grudge over nothing. You ignore me, give me the cold shoulder, and say to the press that we’re not friends when I did nothing you wouldn’t have done if you’d been in my place. Mind you, I didn’t even say anything to the media when I damn well should’ve, but of course, you still find something to complain about.”
Max is panting and the toll this entire conversation is having on him is evident in the pinched corners of his mouth, however, he doesn’t seem to be done just yet.
“And now, for the first time in what feels like ages, I’m having a fun night and you decide to pester me and complain about me spending it with Daniel, when it’s none of your business? When you and I, as you’ve insisted, are nothing?”
Charles reels back from the impact as if Max had physically slapped him across the face. You and I are nothing. He sees champagne showers in Australia. You and I are nothing. Breaking into the Circuit de Monaco at night. You and I are nothing. Max scaring everyone into packing their phones away when Charles had been drunk and without inhibitions in Imola. You and I are nothing. Dancing in the streets of Miami at night.
You and I are nothing.
It’s terrible.
He deserves it.
Max prepares to breeze past him back inside and Charles instinctively grabs onto his arm to make him stay, to make him not leave him. His movements are slow and his grip as weak as a kitten, Max could shake him off easily, but he doesn’t. He glares at him, a fire raging in his eyes, and opens his mouth to undoubtedly berate him again. Deliriously, Charles remembers that the hottest flames burn blue.
Before he can think better of it, his lips fit themselves over Max’s, quelling any upcoming rant. Any rational or coherent thought dies out in his mind and when he tries to think of any reasons why this is the worst thing he could do, he gets as far as Max’s lips are soft before he loses the thread and closes his eyes.
Horribly, Charles feels a startled hum against his lips and then Max is leaning in, letting him carefully cradle his face with his free hand. He’s even allowed to deepen the kiss, sneaking his tongue past Max’s lips and sliding his hand in his hair, and for an exhilarating moment he has Max in the palms of his hands, warm and lovely, and he wants to keep him like this for as long as he’s allowed to.
When Max recoils from his touch, it’s with enough force to send him stumbling backwards. The look on his face is devastating when Charles opens his eyes again. There’s a storm brewing in his eyes – anger, disappointment, fear, pain. Charles feels monstrous. His mouth opens and closes several times, but no words make it out alive. 
To Charles’ horror, there’s tears pooling at the corners of Max’s eyes. Regret is a bitter, nasty thing to swallow and he knows his face must be doing something complicated and sad. He finds his voice in the most inopportune of moments.
“Max, I—,” he sounds scratchy and choked up, even to his own ears, and Max doesn’t let him get any further, storming past him through the open balcony doors and back inside, knocking their shoulders together in his desperation to get away from him and sending Charles careening into a potted plant. As he picks his way out of the leaves, he hears a door slam inside.
Charles looks up at the stars and wishes that just for once, he wouldn’t ruin everything he loves.
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lendeah · 2 months
Text
bound by duty, haunted by dreams
chapter 1
Summary: You hated him —his selfishness, egocentrism, and lack of morals. He represented everything you stood against. But then, why was he the one plaguing your dreams night after night? Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav Word Count: 2.5k Tags: Enemies to Lovers, they really hate each other, Human! Tav , Paladin! Tav , Mind Manipulation, eventual smut.
a/n: I don't know if I will write more of this or I will leave it as a two shot! I probably will. LMK if you enjoy it :)
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You detested him. You knew your oath was to love every person, despite their past, despite their beliefs, despite... everything, basically. But you couldn't. Stand. Him. His very presence irked you, sending prickles of discomfort crawling up your spine. That smug, self-righteous smirk. His constant complaints. His utter disgust for all living beings except himself. But the worst of all was his horrible and overt attempts at flirting. It almost made you gag.
You could tell that he felt the same way towards you, judging by the constant sour glances he shot your way at camp. He would sneer when you offered help to those in need and make sly remarks after showing kindness towards your companions. It seemed like everything you stood for was the very antithesis of his beliefs.
At first, you thought you just had to get to know him. You can't judge a book by its cover, after all. But the more time you spent around him, the less you liked him. And it all came crashing down when you had the worst argument about the tiefling situation. The coward wanted us to leave them in the middle of the night! Oh, and rob them of every valuable in order to have money for the trip!
As much as you detested each other, you couldn't deny the fact that you were both in the same boat. Literally. The cursed tadpole had tethered your fates together, forcing you to work together to find a cure. And then there was the oath to Ilmater, the deity of compassion and endurance, which bound you to show kindness and mercy towards all beings.
Your oath did not include being spiteful, but whenever he was near, all you could think about was kicking his-
"Soldier, if you keep looking at him I am afraid he is going to grow another head."
Karlach was giving you a funny look from across the fire. You huffed in annoyance, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you sipped on the stew. The two of you were the last ones having dinner, as the rest of the party had either retired for the night or were on watch duty. This was why Astarion was also lingering around. You tried to ignore his presence, focusing on the warmth of the fire and the comforting taste of the stew. But your eyes kept drifting towards him - the source of all your frustration.
"Maybe that would make him bearable to be around, or maybe they would just argue with each other so much I wouldn't have to listen to either."
"Or they would end up tearing each other apart like rabid animals, competing for attention," she laughed.
You couldn't help but let out a small smile at Karlach's joke, the tension between you and him momentarily forgotten.
"I don't know how much longer I can take it," you grumbled, poking at your stew with your spoon.
"You know wha' we need t'do to get rid o' each other? Find a cure for 'is damn tadpole," Karlach mumbled through a mouthful of food. What was it, her fourth bowl of stew?
She gulped, "Why do you hate him so much anyway?"
You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling your shoulders slump. "I don't hate him. I just can't stand him," you admitted, your voice laced with annoyance. "He's always so smug and heighty, so selfish. And I loathe selfishness. And the way he looks at me like...like I'm some kind of nuisance."
Karlach raised an eyebrow, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth.
"Well, I can't argue with any of that; he does tend to have a stick up his ass. But, to play devil's advocate, he is quite funny and nice when you get to know him."
You scoffed at Karlach's words, shaking your head. "I highly doubt that," you muttered under your breath.
Karlach rolled her eyes, leaning forward to speak closer to you,
"Look, I bet he's just a big softie underneath all that... exterior. So try playing nice for once, maybe you'll see a different side of him. We need him on our team, even if he's not the easiest to get along with." Karlach reminded you.
You raised an eyebrow at Karlach's suggestion, not sure if you were ready to try being nice to him. But then again, Karlach did have a point. It wouldn't hurt to try, right?
You sighed, feeling a tinge of guilt at the thought that maybe you weren't giving him a chance. People usually liked you - maybe you just hadn't put in enough effort with him.
"Fine. I'll try," you grumbled, still not fully convinced.
Karlach grinned triumphantly, little flames dancing around her body. "That's the spirit, soldier!" she exclaimed, raising her bowl of stew in a mock salute.
You turned around and found he was still there, distractedly looking at his nails.
Ugh, this was going to be difficult.
He caught your eye momentarily, a slight raise of his eyebrow before nonchalantly turning and striding towards his tent.
It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, you bid Karlach a goodnight and began walking towards the elf.
"Hey, Astarion," you called out once you reached his tent.
In a swift motion, he spun around and gave you an assessing look. For a moment, his piercing eyes glinted red, causing a mix of fear and irritation to wash over you.
"Yes?" he asked, his tone polite but dismissive.
Ugh. You wanted to punch his face already.
But instead, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm.
"I just wanted to say... thank you," you said. Yeah, gratitude. Everyone likes gratitude.
His eyebrows rose in surprise at your words, but he quickly composed himself.
"Thank me? I must warn you now, if what you intend is to lecture me about my behaviour it will be all for nought." His words dripped with arrogance he made no attempt to hide it.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his pompous attitude.
"No, I just wanted to express my gratitude..." For what? What had he actually done besides constantly complaining and giving disapproving looks at your every decision? "...for staying awake at night to keep watch." Yes, that would suffice.
Astarion narrowed his red eyes and his lips quirked with genuine confusion.
"Why thank you very much, but I am not a child to be lauded for performing the most basic act of the task I have been assigned," Astarion replied, a hint of smugness in his voice. "Then again, I guess your whole 'selfless Paladin nature' compels you to praise me. You looked like it was about to tear you up to do so, I might say. It was quite amusing to witness."
"I'm just trying to be polite," you replied, keeping your tone flat. "Not that you know the meaning of it, anyway."
His grin widened as he stepped closer to you, his tone teasing, "I do so like it when you try so hard to maintain that decorum of yours. Though you would do well to keep practicing. Your good intentions do not excuse the self-righteous stick up your ass."
This motherf-
You gritted your teeth and resisted the urge to punch him in the face. He always seemed to enjoy provoking a reaction out of you.
"I'm not here to argue with you."
"No, you are here to bother me. Which is having the opposite effect of what I am sure you hoped."
"Oh, you are insufferable!" you clenched your fists, the anger evident in your voice.
As you walked away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back. You wanted to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, but you knew it was pointless. Instead, you headed towards your tent and forcefully zipped the flap closed behind you, letting out a frustrated groan.
You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. This was not the first time Astarion had gotten under your skin, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. You reminded yourself of your oath. Ilmater. Empathy, sympathy and forgiveness. Ugh. It was hard, especially when dealing with someone like him.
But it was your sacred duty to show compassion and mercy to all, even those who seemed undeserving of it. You took another deep breath , composing yourself. You had faced way worse back home. This was nothing. Just an arrogant aristocrat. If he refused your help, so be it. You would turn your attention to those who were truly in need.
You snuggled deep into your bedroll, the soft fabric enveloping you like a cocoon. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes. Tomorrow would be a better day, you were sure.
As sleep came to you, dreams began weaving their way into your consciousness. Suddenly, you weren't in your bedroll anymore, but in the middle of a beautiful, glittering forest. An ethereal light danced around the tall trees and a clear stream ran through it, its water shimmering with tiny specks of silver.
A rustle in the dense foliage caught your attention, causing you to turn and see Astarion. He appeared like a phantom, emerging from your own thoughts with his white hair cascading around his face like a halo.
Great, now he is also hunting my dreams.
The illusion of Astarion turned around, his expression a mix of confusion and bewilderment as his eyes locked onto your figure. It was as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Well, that makes two of us, you told yourself.
"If it isn't Calendula, the noble paladin, sauntering over," Astarion said, his smirk evident even in the dark.
You cringed at the use of your full name, a jab that he knew would get under your skin.
"Astarion," you greeted him flatly. "I see even my dreams aren't safe from your onslaught."
His eyebrows furrow in confusion "Dreams? What do you-" And then his face lit up. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes and a sly smile spread across his lips, showing his pointed canines. What in the sweet hells is going through his mind? Well, my mind.
Astarion stepped closer, his eyes scanning you up and down. "Well well, I see my charms finally beginning to work on you, my dear paladin." You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "In your dreams, Astarion." "Ah but this is your dream, darling. And I must say, it's quite a lovely one," he said, dragging a fingertip along one of the plants.
You let out an exasperated sigh.
"I can't believe this is what my brain settled for in a good night of sleep."
"Oh come now" He said taking another step closer, his head tilted slightly, "If you truly wanted a peaceful, pleasant dream you would have imagined the sun shining brightly and a beautiful castle or a field of flowers or... whatever it is you paladins enjoy. But your brain, in the dark depths of the night seeks me and only me."
You scoffed at his words. "How do you even know what I do or do not want anyway? You are a product of my brain."
His fingers finally made contact with your skin, his touch icy cold and sending shivers down your spine. It felt so real, you couldn't help but wonder if this was really just a dream.
"I am but a product of your imagination, darling. But exactly because of that, I can feel your desires, your fantasies, your deepest thoughts." he smirked, "And darling, I know that I am what you desire."
Was he? He was a creation of your own mind, therefore he was essentially a part of yourself. But then again, if he was a part of you, did that mean the words he spoke were a reflection of your own truth? It was all so confusing and overwhelming.
Despite your doubts, you couldn't help but steal glances at him - the mole on his cheek, the slope of his shoulders, the curve of his smile. He was undeniably attractive, almost too good to be true. It wasn't so far fetched to think your mind had recreated him. However, you wished it had made him mute.
"I don't desire you," you repeated firmly, trying to convince yourself more than him.
"Ah, and there is that noble pride again. Do you truly believe that your self-denying nature means you haven't thought of me? Of us?" He stepped closer until he was inches away."Tell me, have you ever had any impure thoughts? Thoughts that go against everything Ilmater stands for?"
Your heart raced at his words, eyes widening in shock. Pink lips against yours, teeth piercing soft skin, cold hands up your...
Stop.
You paused briefly before answering. "No, I follow the teachings of Ilmater which guide me towards virtue and moral uprightness. However, I am not bound by a vow of celibacy. I simply direct all of my focus towards my devotion."
Astarion's smirk grew wider at your statement, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, but it's ok," he whispered, "I know your thoughts. I have seen them, deep inside your mind. I know you want to know how it feels to be touched, to be loved and worshipped back."
The realism was uncanny, right from the soft fur lining of his cloak to the scent of him - leather and pine with a hint of musky sweetness. It was just like the real Astarion, perfectly irritating and irresistible all at once. His presence was intoxicating and you found yourself wanting to lean into his touch.
This is a dream. None of this is real. Astarion wasn't here. He wasn't stepping closer to you again; he wasn't bringing his face dangerously near yours; he wasn't placing his hand on your waist pulling you closer till there was no space left between your bodies.
You could feel his lips almost brushing along your neck. He ran a hand up to the back of your head, fingers weaving into your curls, his voice a low murmur. "Tell me, dearest, what happens when your body desires things your mind believes are wrong?"
You gulped, your hands fisted at your sides, "I-I don't know."
"Do you want to find out?" Astarion's lips grazed your skin again, sending sparks of desire through your body. "I've always found that when the body and the mind disagree... it's always best to follow the body."
Your breath was ragged, brain scrambling for a semblance of sense. You knew you were going to give in. It's just a dream, you told yourself.
No consequences, no judgments.
Just as you were on the brink of surrender, a sudden and sharp tug jolted you from your slumber. Your eyes flew open to reveal the familiar surroundings of your tent. You were back in back in your bedroll, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. A throbbing headache pulsed through your skull.
Today didn't feel better at all.
a/n: hope you liked it! Lmk if you want to be added to a taglist☺️🫶🏻
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spidybaby · 11 months
Text
She | part 2
Summary: A long talk and a match can be the start to a change between Kylian and you.
Warning: none.
Part one
I know I took too long for this part, sorry about it 😭💜 hope you like this 🥹❤️
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Frightening.
That's an adjective you can use to describe your situation. You're standing in front of his door, not knowing if you should turn around or knock on the door.
The minutes keep running as you stand there. The wood door is the only thing that separates you from him.
On the other side of the door, he's anxiously pacing around his living room, wondering if you're going to show up or not.
His questions were answered by the knock on the door, and his heart skipped a bit.
He was kind of ashamed of how fast he walked to the door, not wanting you to wait. When he opened the door, you were there.
He can't take his eyes off of you, the way your hair sits on your shoulders, the way that summer dress looks too good to be truth and the way your eyes are glued to his.
"Hi" is all he can say.
You smile at his shyness, finding it funny.
"Hi, Kyks" you say back.
The nickname makes him feel goosebumps. He moves so you can get inside the house. And you can't help but look around. This was the first time you were there. Back in the day, he owned an apartment and not a whole house.
"You," he cleared his throat, "want a glass of water? Wine?"
You only nod, answering but not answering his question. So, he walked you to the kitchen, showing you the way.
His house was beautiful, the color, the details, all his style. You remembered all the times he talked to you about buying a house together. And you can only think of what your future used to hold.
When you enter the kitchen, you see how kylian opens a big door, showing you his bottle collection. It was not a big one, but it was definitely a good one.
"Choose one, for us"
For us.
You walk inside the little pantry of bottles, your eyes looking around, and he has the most expensive wine you can name.
But your eyes widen in surprise when you see it. The bottle of wine he knew was your favorite. He used to keep a bottle around for every special occasion.
You take the bottle in your hands, and he can't help but smile, even if you can see it.
"Good choice," he says. "Let me get some glasses"
You follow him out of the pantry and sit on the chair he has in there. Your eyes glued to him, watching his every move.
"Here," he hands you the glass and pours one for himself.
You stay in silence for a while, looking at everything but his eyes.
"So" - "I want," you talk at the same time. You can't help but laugh at that. He moves his hands, indicating you to speak. "So," you repeat.
"I wanted to talk because I'm going to be around you, because of Nasser, and we might run into each other, I don't want to feel the tension, I want us to be able to be around each other like normal people." You were talking fast, too fast for him to catch up with every word. "And I just want a good start."
"Okay," he nods his head slowly.
"Okay?" You frown your eyebrows at how relaxed he was.
"I'm sorry," His eyes reflect his true feelings. He can't think of a good start without saying it first. "I was an asshole and a coward, I left you when you needed me to support you, even when you support my every move since day one."
"Kylian, I didn't." But he wasn't stopping. He wanted you to know how sorry he is.
"Don't," he stops you. "I can't go back and not do what I did, but I can show you how much I've changed, I'm not that immature twenty-two year old that was scared of change. I don't want you to hate me."
You can only blink at his words. You can't hate him, no matter what, you can't.
"Don't say that," your voice was monotone. "What you did hurt me, yes." You take a deep breath "but, I've changed too, and I've learned that as much as I want to change the past, I can't, Kylian, we can't."
You doubt a little, but take his hands in yours.
"We can only be better. And as much as I feel that my hate can be justified, " you joke, making him laugh."I can't hate you. You were my best friend, and no matter what you hold a special place in my heart"
His sight is focused on the way your thumbs are caressing his hands, the warmth that you're emanating, the softness of your palms.
"I'm sorry," he repeats.
"Look at me," your voice is firm, "We can't change the past. But we can learn from it and be better. Let's do baby steps. We're seeing each other in one way or another around, so this is the best"
He knew you were right. His friends are yours, his boss is yours. He can't ignore you even if he tries.
"Deal"
The smile that formed into your face has him drooling. How can you be that beautiful without trying?
The talk didn't finish there, you caught up with him, asking him about the club and him asking you about the moving. It was a long way ahead, but like you say, baby steps.
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"Jules, can you send me again that email, Mister Nasser, ask me to answer? please"
You were stressed. It's been a few days into your moving, and you already feel like everything is going crazy.
Nasser did as promised and hired a whole agency to help you move into your new apartment.
And since he also promised, he was remodeling the office you were supposed to work in, so you had to work from home, thing that makes you feel crazy, not being able to find a lot of the things you needed due to not knowing where it was stored.
"Jules, can you also find my calendar?"
Jules was your assistant. She accepted to move countries with you, loving the way you worked and you loving the way she worked.
She was young and still studying, but she was good and efficient, things you liked.
"Thank you," you smile as she hands you the calendar. "I know I'm stressing you, but bear with me"
"The email is on the important carpet on your email, and you have an hour to be ready." Your confused look made her laugh. "y/n, don't tell me you forgot"
"I didn't" lies, you did.
"Okay, then I'll guess I don't have to say what you need to be ready for"
You narrow your eyes and look at your agenda, not wanting to admit that you did, in fact, forget what she was talking about.
"I'm just answering this, and I'll be ready for that." You smile, still confused.
Jules laughs, knowing your expression as the palm of her hand. "Okay, then I'm just putting this in your room, and I'll head out"
You nod concentrated into the email. Tying your best to be quick.
After a good twenty minutes, you finish with your work for the day, jules already gone, you check the time. You have exactly forty minutes to yet be ready for whatever you need to be ready for.
You walk to your room and in your bed you can see a paper bag with a note sticked to it.
"You did forget, have fun tho"
You smile at Jules calligraphy and open the bag. The PSG shirt is the only thing in the bag, making your mind clear as you remembered that Nasser asked you to come to the game with him.
You only take a deep breath, even tho Kylian and you are civil with each other, doesn't mean you'll be friends and you'll go to every game like you used to.
You connected your phone to the charger and got in the shower. Since you weren't going to wash your hair, it was a quick shower.
You picked some mom jeans, a tank top to put under the PSG shirt and your Jordan's. For your hair, you put your hair into a ponytail, and for makeup, you only did some concealer, powder, some blush, and using the same blush as eyeshadow you added mascara. Something light for you.
You disconnected your phone checking the time. You were on time to go to the stadium.
Nasser sent you your tickets and vip access with his assistant, so you didn't have a problem. You get inside. Grabbing your purse and wallet, you walk to the elevator and down to your car.
The ride to the stadium was a calm one. The traffic was starting to get heavy as everyone was trying to get there. Thankfully, Nasser reserved you a spot at the parking lot. Which makes your life easier.
Once you walk inside and find your boss and some other executives, you greet everyone with a smile.
"So Happy you actually made it, I was getting worried you leave me here alone." He joked.
"Oh no, as I said on the phone yesterday, I'm so excited to see the match." Lies, you didn't want to be there.
You make small talk with Nasser wife. The game starts, and you notice Kylian was the captain. You knew his parents were somewhere around. They tried to always come to their games.
It was a good match. PSG was winning 2-0 against the other team. Something that made Nasser really happy. His wife told you they were having kind of a bad season, so this match was a game changer.
The first half was done. You take this as an opportunity to check your phone, Ethan sent you a dm.
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You laugh at his messages, and you check his story, noticing he was at the game with his mother.
After a good five minutes, you get up of your seat, ready to say hi to him as you open your arms. He was taller, a lot taller.
You hugged him tightly, Ethan, and you were close. When you moved to London, he was very sad but you promised to text him every day and you kept that promise.
You let go of him and kissed his cheek. You asked him to sit next to you. Luckily, there was an empty spot.
"Why didn't you call me?" He was happy to see you. He always saw you as his sister. And you loved him as your baby brother.
Growing up as an only child, you never had that sibling love, but Ethan gave you enough love for a lifetime. And you were grateful for him.
"I was going to." You didn't lie. You were going to do it as soon as you were totally moved. "But I wanted to have my apartment ready"
You showed Ethan the pictures of your new home. He was excited for you to be back. He also knew his brother was also happy for you to be back.
Ethan stayed with you during the second half of the match, PSG scored another goal. The fans were happy, and so did the team.
You were happy, missed the adrenaline of the games, missing the emotional environment of the stadium.
You were obvious of the eyes that had been on you the whole second half. Kylian, find out you were at the game. Thanks to Twitter, he saw a picture of you next to Nasser's wife, and when he found your location every time he could, he would look at you.
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You were back at your house, exhausted but happy for the team. After all, they're Paris team.
You change into more comfortable clothes to sleep, wash your face and brush your teeth, and do your skincare.
You were laying in bed reading some book your friend recommended focused on the words, when you hear the sound of an insta notification you grab your phone checking it.
You smile down at the dm Kylian sent you. You were lying if you said you weren't expecting it. After all, you find out Twitter fans noticed your presence at the game. And probably he did too.
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You laugh, knowing he was referring to you. You chose to joke along with him.
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You knew you say baby steps, but talking to him like you used to feel good, you don't want that feeling to go away just yet.
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You laugh, knowing he was joking and choosing it was enough jokes for the night. You left your book and phone at your nightstand and turned the lights off.
Your mind was tired but still awake enough to create hopes up for you, was he just joking?
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katz-chow · 5 months
Note
This is so Phillip Graves coded....thoughts? Also love your work♡^^
bang bang
a/n: STOP NO I LOVE THIS SONG. you're so right babyboo this is so graves coded. how much of life passed by him because of how much time he dedicated to his work. let me show you. angst, good ending, gn! reader, not how i normally write graves, him being an ass, slight suicidal themes, one religious bit, ignoring mw3
Phillip hadn't meant to leave you all alone all those years ago. Memories of weeping willows and tall grass in the scorching summer heat before school started to flood his mind as he drove through sun-bleached roads in the Hill Country. He was finally going home, back to the place where he could finally retire. Sure, he hasn't been back here in 5 years, but he was working and doing important missions within the military, you knew that.
He made sure you knew that when he left for the cold plains of Colorado to start up the Shadow Company. "It's dangerous work, Sweetheart." He said as he held your hand close to his chest. You were crying, begging to come with him, the shiny new ring on her your finger gleamed in the airport lighting.
"No. it's too dangerous, I don't want them coming after you..." He said when you called him a few weeks later after he informed you that he was going overseas. Again, you begged to be able to call him, to have any grasp of him and who he belonged to. And again, he denied it.
You suggested letters on a call a few months later, after he had gotten back from that first mission. He seemed more on edge, hardened...not your Phillip. He cursed and groaned, "When will you understand how dangerous everything is?! Use your brain and think will you? If I send back letters, they'll know where to find you. If you send back letters, they'll know where to find me. Hell, they can probably trace this call right back to you at this very moment and I can't do shit about that!"
You ended the call, frustrated tears rolling down your cheeks. You threw the sheets off of you and screamed into the pillows. You missed him and, of course, he just wanted you to be safe.
Soon, his signal got weaker and weaker. Letters were out of the option except for a rare one-pager or a post card sent from him. Mexico...seemed like a nice place to be, while you're stuck here in Texas, without your husband.
One month turned into two, and then 4 years, and then...he was dead. One of his old military buddies showed up to your door along with a shadow you've never seen before, a flag in hand.
You didn't cry during the funeral, there was no body. You didn't cry when you were handed the flag. You didn't cry on the drive home. You didn't cry until the sun went down and the normally empty house seemed colder, the last smoldering coal cooling down. That was when you couldn't take it anymore. Your knees sank down and hit the hardwood in your living room, framed pictures of the two of you hiking in California glimmered with the faint kitchen light that seemed so, so far away.
You felt the surge of guilt roll over you he was right, he was only keeping you safe from the mess of the world while you got to stay at home. But instead of admiring him and his care, you screamed and cursed and kicked and...cried. You cried out to him and he had no choice but to swallow the stinging in his chest whenever you asked when he was coming home. You couldn't see it at the time. Funny how these things work, it takes death to make you see it.
“If God teaches in this way, by weakening you into a vulnerable thing in order to beg for mercy, he is not a kind god. If this is the case, kill me too. If it’s cowardly than I accept being a coward, if it means I can be with him again.”
His death wrecks you. You don’t come out of the house anymore, not even to get groceries. You order things at your doorstep. You only open the door for people to send their condolences, but never allow them to go in nor do you want to go out. The house is no longer pristine and ready for him to come home at any minute anymore, because you know he won’t.
So imagine the sound of an engine cutting off in front of your house. Then the sound of a large car door closing. And then the keys turning the lock open. You don’t move from your nest of a bed, you figure you had forgotten to eat and the hallucinations are coming in. So you stare at the window blinds, bright sun outside causing a slight glow in your bedroom. You sigh. A lovely day gone to waste again, shame…
“Honey? I know you’re here, your car’s parked out…” His voice chirps as you hear heavy footsteps make its way around the small house. Then the sound of the door opening, your back facing it. You keep your eyes ahead, preparing for the part where everything fades to black and you fall asleep. You start to see the familiar figure in your peripheral and then his face knelt down to meet yours on the bed. You look at him, tiredly and sadden, dismissing the vision as you closed your eyes.
“I’m sorry, Baby…” His knuckles brush against your cheekbones and your eyes dart open and wide, looking up at him.
“Phillip…?”
His hand caress your face as yours reach out to him, fingers pinching and pulling at his face. He smiled softly. “It’s just me, again…Hi..”
Tears formed in your eyes as you sat up in bed, scrambling into his arms as you both sit on the floor. You screamed and sobbed and hit him as he held you close. “I thought you were fucking dead for almost a year, a whole fucking year, you asshole!”
Phillip didn’t seem fazed with your words nor your fists weakly hitting his back as you buried your face into him. “I know I’m sorry…I’m here now. I’m real, it’s okay, we’re okay.”
Your Phillip was home, safe and in your arms. He knew you would react in some way, but somehow he didn’t know it equate to you physically hitting him. He held you as tight in his arms as you would let him as you cried and screamed.
You succeeded in pulling away from him, tears turning into sniffles and a furrowed brown.
"I miss you."
A harsh pain whipped onto the side of his face, hard enough to pull his gaze from you to the bookshelf in the back against the wall.
"Don't do that again." You stared at him, tears silently rolling down your flushed cheeks as sniffled, lip quivering.
"I'll be here."
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