#when i first read that line i knew it had to be incredibly bloody | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

accidentally-in-fictional-love · 26 days

Note

📖🔧😢🩹🥰

I am literally binge reading all of your DD works and I just have to thank you for your absolutely incredible writing! 😭🙌

There are very few fics of Lonny out there, so is there anyway we could see how he’d react to seeing the person he’s had a crush on (reader) having witnessed what he did to Bud? Like I just want to hug him and tell him it’s okay and that it was an accident. Little baby didn’t mean to! 🥺

Forced Limitations - Lonny Crane/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, canon rewrite (the first half hour for now), lots of panic, canon violence, character death (Buddy 🥺), co-workers to friends to ride or dies, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual crushes, this one is heavy but if you've seen the movie you'll expect it.

Wordcount: 9486

Summary: Today was supposed to be such a normal day. You were even going to maybe talk to your crush this time if he didn't say anything first. So why were you now hiding in the basement of your work while you crush stared you down with a bloodied wrench in his shaking hand and fear in his eyes?

Notes: My first Lonny! Thank you so much for reading first of all 💗💗💗 it's because of you guys and your wonderful support for my writing that I'm enjoying these as much as I am! As requested this is an au of the movie down to the dialogue (forever grateful to mediarips with subs included hehe), get that lady outta here I hate her, but because I left this open-ended I might just have to write a part 2 if I can figure out a way for them to both escape 😏 For now I hope you like this, he really didn't mean to and this has been weighing on me since I saw the movie /)o(\

Today was just supposed to be another normal, boring day at work.

You didn't have much going on, nothing penciled into your calendar on your apartment wall, no reminders in your phone, in fact it was probably the most normal your day could get. You left on time, grabbed yourself a coffee and a box of donuts to share with everyone you worked next to, and of course didn't forget the separate Boston Creme just for the cute handyman who smiled at you whenever you caught him staring. You blushed already thinking about him, neither of you had really talked, but you knew he was a sweet guy just based on your minimal interactions with him outside of your donut drop off.

He wasn't very social, he stuck to his partner's side like glue for the most part, and Bud was also a good guy, extremely knowledgeable and able to solve any problem you guys brought to him before any of you could even figure out what was actually wrong, but sometimes you wished you could just have a conversation with Alonso by himself, get to know him a little better. You'd been trying for days now that you knew he preferred the Boston Creme, a popular donut in your group that tended to get snatched up fast from the random assortment you were always gifted.

You’d been getting the baker's dozen with his as the 13th was your attempted way to start something, but so far he'd just noticed that his donut was there and unsnatched, sent Bud over to grab it before anyone else did, and then wandered off to eat it somewhere he wouldn't make a mess for anyone to step on, like the cafeteria on the ground floor.

You wouldn't let that happen today you decided as you pulled into the line to get into work, security giving everyone a random check today for some reason to make sure they all worked there. That was odd, but you'd heard whispers that they were thinking of upping security around here anyway, something about attempted break-ins, so you just got your ID ready, popped the trunk when they asked, and kept on driving until you found a place to park. You gave a wave to Bud when you saw him head for the door, Alonso not with him as usual; he always came early before the rush, you could only guess the swarm of people made him uncomfortable, and you had to admit he had the right idea as everyone shuffled towards the door.

‘Weird about those men, isn’t it?’ you asked him as you flashed your IDs again to get inside, one card after the other to allow you entrance. ‘I mean, I get the extra security, but they looked like they were searching for something.’

‘Poor Lonny must’ve had a hard time with them, he’s always here as soon as the lights come on,’ Bud figured, the two of you walking through the lobby until he started to veer away towards the elevators. His place was in the basement, their own special break room down there while they monitored everything whenever something didn’t need to be looked at, and you pursed your lips with a glance down at the box in your arms before chasing after him.

‘Hey! Hey, uh, I was wondering if maybe you could… escourt me down to the break room today, maybe leave this for Alonso if he’s running late?’ you suggested nervously, no one other than those two usually going down there, but the other man just looked you over a moment but chuckling to himself like he’d just realized something.

‘Ha, imagine that; c’mon, gotta get you to your desk before Bossman notices you’re down there,’ he told you before leading the way, and as payment for his tour he grabbed his own donut first on the way down. ‘Never come down here without either of us, this place is a real maze with a ton of hazards, and also be sure to watch your head, you never know what’s gunna hit you until it’s too late,’ he warned as the elevator came to a stop, and you closed the lid of your coffee a little tighter before following him out.

‘You know I’ve never been down here before, not even when I started,’ you told him as you walked, your eyes taking in everything and nearly allowing you to bump your head just as he knew you would, his hand coming out to protect your forehead before you knocked it off a low-hanging series of pipes.

‘Don’t think many of the people upstairs have, it’s mostly just me and Lonny and the occasional fill-in whenever we call out, that’s not often though, Lonny’s a very hard worker, y’know.’ You were too busy ducking to notice the glance he gave you when he was done speaking, the place indeed a maze as he led you right to the middle where their solitary room to themselves was hidden; inside was a small kitchen against the left wall, a table with two chairs against the right wall, the others folded up nearby since they were unneeded, and four lockers tucked against the far right corner.

Only two of them had names, the company had only needed them once it became clear that they made a great team and rendered more help unnecessary, and Alonso was indeed in as he sat at the table and ate a bowl of cereal. He looked up when he heard Bud arrive, and he was in the middle of a hello and a wave when you walked into his view; instantly his eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed, and you watched as he turned away from you and tried to swallow the mouthful of cereal he was now choking on a little. You’d surprised him, that much was obvious, but it was blush that had you freezing as your own heated your face right up despite the chill of the room.

‘Well, now that I’m clocked in I’d better check out that problem from yesterday, y’know the one, way up on the 6th floor, you can handle things down here for a bit, right?’ Bud told Alonso as he quickly grabbed his orange uniform and started pulling it on, the other man fumbling his words and dropping his spoon when he received an encouraging rub to the back of his head that messed up his long hair.

‘Bud!’ he yelped as his desperate cry to not be left alone, and then it was just the two of you, very much alone while his cereal turned to mush. ‘Uh… hi,’ he said after a while, his hands hurriedly straightening his hair back down so he wouldn’t look a mess, and you could only murmur the same before you realized the burning in your palm was actually because of your coffee.

‘Shit, ow, can I set this down?’ you asked him quickly as you rushed for the table, and he nodded as he cleared a space for you, the rest of the table covered in old newspapers and magazines to read so they could pass the time on slow days. ‘Thanks, I uh, I wanted to make sure you got this, you know how the others are,’ you stuttered nervously, his chosen donut thankfully avoiding being crushed by your worried hands only because it was set safely on top of the large box.

‘Oh, thank you,’ he stuttered right back, this was the most he’d ever said to you since you’d started working there, Bud usually doing all the talking for him while he just listened. His eyes lit up when he saw that you’d gotten his favourite and it made your smile grow wide, your hands shaking a little less as he carefully peeled back the paper from the bag in order to save the chocolate on top. ‘I love these ones, growing up it was always the first picked by my siblings, so… I’m glad you keep bringing them to work, I always get here before that place opens,’ he shared with you before taking a bite, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the simple joy of tasting something delicious spread across his face.

‘I didn’t know you had siblings,’ you said as you took the remaining seat, your coffee reopened and your own donut chosen while you took a sip, and he looked at the door before sitting with you, your chairs so close together that your knees touched before he moved away. This was now the closest you’d ever been as well, and you realized you’d much rather risk being late in order to hear more than head upstairs and start working.

‘Four of them, I’m the youngest,’ he told you between bites, his cereal forgotten as he licked cream and chocolate off of his fingers a moment before going to the sink and washing his hands with a bit of embarrassment. ‘You- you’d think growing up in a family that big I’d be able to talk to people better, right?’

You took a bite of your own donut before shaking your head, and he seemed surprised by your answer as he sat back down again. ‘Family is different, sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers than your own flesh and blood,’ you thought aloud, and he listened intently in genuine interest. ‘But, you don’t have to be afraid of talking to me, I don’t bite…’ Your face lit up and you distracted yourself with more coffee at your choice of words, but he didn’t have the same problem as you as he tucked his hair behind his ear and really thought it over.

‘I- I’ve been trying to, actually,’ he muttered almost to himself, and you set your cup down to listen this time, ‘but every time I see you you’re always surrounded by people.’

You thought to yourself a moment before opening the box again and offering him a second donut, and Alonso looked between them and you before picking another and starting on it. ‘Well, guess I’ll have to stop by here every morning then, so we can talk,’ you offered, and he seemed genuinely happy about it as he flashed you a nervous but hopeful smile. You were smiling back when your phone went off, one of your cubiclemates was asking about her donuts, and you swore to yourself when you saw the time. ‘I’m late, I gotta run back up, but it was really nice talking to you, Alonso.’

‘Lonny,’ he said as he stood, and he towered over you as he handed you the box, ‘you can call me Lonny, everyone else does.’

‘Alright, then it was nice to officially meet you, Lonny.’ His smile was so infectious and wide that it made you wonder why it’d taken you so long to do this, and by the time you reached your floor you were practically twitterpated to no one’s surprise.

‘Finally talked to Tall, Cute, and Silent?’ your friend asked with a knowing smirk, and you made a face back at her as you presented everyone with the treats that were left. They devoured them like animals until only the crumbs were left as usual, and as you tossed out the box you found yourself already planning on maybe inviting him out for lunch today if he was interested. As such, you didn’t pay much attention to your work, just tapping out slowly over the keys while you took in no information, and when the speakers you didn’t even know were above you suddenly crackled to life it actually made you jump you were so distracted.

‘All employees, no matter what you’re doing, please stop and lend me your full attention,’ the announcement began, everyone around you having the same reaction of, ‘What’s going on?’ ‘There are currently 80 of you in the building. In eight hours, most of you will be dead.’

Your blood ran cold, this had to be some kind of joke, but when you looked around you saw that no one was laughing.

‘Your chance of survival increases by following my orders, and excelling at the tasks I place before you,’ the speaker continued, his voice surprisingly calm and almost a bit excited at what he was saying, and you started to feel sick at the thought that this was real, he was completely serious, and that was why security had been so tight when you’d arrived. ‘Your first task is simply this: Murder any two of your fellow employees within the next half hour.’

You spilled your coffee, the dark liquid spreading over your desk and onto the floor, but no one cared between those who were listening and those who’d already decided that this really had to be a joke.

‘How they are killed, or how they are chosen to be killed, is of no consequence. But if there are not two dead bodies in the building within 30 minutes, you will face repercussions.’

‘This isn’t real, right?’ you asked your friend, her face calm but you could see it in her eyes, that doubt that was taking hold of you. ‘I mean, they aren’t really asking us to kill each other, are they?’

‘It’s all bullshit, probably some test to weed out the bad employees, you know there’s a few on the 5th floor who could stand a good kick in the pants,’ she said dismissively, but when she waved her hand you didn’t miss the way it shook.

‘Still, I don’t like this, I’m gunna- I’m just gunna take a walk, see what the others are saying.’ You stood when the voice never returned, stepping through your coffee and leaving tracks of it after you as you headed for the elevator, the basement button staring at you as the urge to press it and see what Bud had to say about all this hit you like a truck; he was a smart guy, and Al- Lonny would be there too, if he wasn't afraid and didn’t believe it then that would be enough for you. You hit the lobby button instead and tried to breathe when the entire building shook, a series of rumbles making the cables shake just enough to scare you. Your hands splayed over the walls to brace yourself until it was over, and when you reached your destination you found not only a gathering already there, but also the cause of the quake.

The front doors as well as the windows were now covered up with what looked like a blast shield, something that was supposed to be for protection now trapping you all inside. Your panic rose even higher, the familiar faces of your co-workers now warped into confusion and worry, a few of them even attempting to break the walls down to get free but to no avail. You started to shake when the elevator beside you dinged, and the relief that washed over you when you saw Bud and then Lonny exit was so strong that it nearly knocked out your legs from under you.

You followed after them as they spoke with someone from one of the floors higher than yours, Mike; he was a nice guy, there was nothing bad you could say about him, but he was serious now as everyone gathered around to whisper, your hand hovering just over Lonny’s back as he concentrated and didn’t even notice you. ‘What d’you think, Mikey? What’s this all about?’ Bud asked him while they stared what was supposed to be the front doors down.

‘I don’t know. You think you got a way to get through it?’ Mike wondered, tensions rising as your superiors tried to take charge and calm everything down in the distance.

‘Blowtorch could do the job, but I don’t know how thick it is,’ Bud offered up, already calculating what needed to be done based on all his years on the job. ‘It could take a while.’

‘What if we try cutting through one of the walls first?’ Mike suggested, his eyes moving to the normal concrete instead. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to try and get through cement than get through whatever that is?’

Bud shook his head, repeating just the word no to himself with such certainty that it made you finally latch on, and Lonny jumped and turned to see you behind him. You looked up at him, unable to force a comforting smile when you saw his eyes, so he made one for you, his hand over your shoulders and rubbing your arm before he turned back to Bud, he’d have a plan. ‘This metal surrounds the entire building,’ he told them, the other man with you speaking up next.

‘So the whole building’s covered?’ he asked only for Bud to unfortunately confirm it, there was no knocking down a wall and escaping without getting through that metal first.

‘It’s worth a shot, though, right? The blowtorch?’ Mike confirmed before they could lose hope, Lonny glancing down at you and holding you a little tighter.

‘It’s worth a try,’ he agreed with a nod, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to Mike or to you when he said it. Bud then also noticed you were there when he went to pat Lonny on the back and smacked you instead, and he apologized before the two were walking away, your shoulders already hunching up without him there; you’d only just spoke that morning, which felt so long ago now, but you felt safe around him, if this was really happening then you could protect each other, and you went to follow when Bud noticed and held you back.

‘Easy now, just stay with the group, we’ll be back in a minute,’ he told you reassuringly, and you glanced over to Lonny before nodding and going to find your friends. Everyone had run to the lobby with the raising of the shield, and there was now no doubt between you all as you gathered in the corner and watched the others talk amongst themselves.

‘They’re gunna try and burn a hole through the door, see if we can get out that way,’ you whispered, not wanting to spread the plan in case it didn’t work, ‘they just went down to get the blowtorch, they’ll be right back.’

‘You gunna stick to your boytoy when he does?’ your friend joked so suddenly that you felt the need to reprimand her to for saying that first of all, but the second you looked at her you saw that she was just making jokes to hide the fact that she was fucking terrified. So you let it slide, your hand rubbing her shoulder just as Lonny had done to you.

‘I dunno, do you guys have any ideas?’ you asked them, each one shaking their heads.

‘I heard a few people went to the roof, we could try that,’ another suggested, but you didn’t like heights all that much to begin with, mixing that with the current situation might actually make you faint.

‘You can go, I’m gunna stay here, see how the door goes,’ you decided, and your small group split up just as your boss walked into the room along with the two men just below him; one of them was a real asshole, you didn’t bother with him, your focus on Mr. Norris as he spoke.

‘Hey, listen up, everybody, okay?’ he called out over the room, his voice echoing even louder thanks to the shield. ‘I’m Barry Norris, the COO here, for people who don’t know. Listen, I’m very aware that this is a very… hell, to say the least, a very strange situation here. But I don’t believe there’s any cause for panic, all right? We’re still trying to figure out exactly what the situation is, but I’m certain there’s a rational explanation. This is a government building. We think maybe somebody put precautions in place in case of a military event. Obviously these walls. Now, someone has clearly discovered this feature, and they’re having a little fun at our expense, okay? Whoever’s doing this, the object is to get all of you upset. So let’s not play into that, okay? Let’s just remain calm, chill out, and take a few minutes to figure out exactly what’s happening, okay? So, thank you. I’m gunna go work on that. And I'll circle back to you as soon as I can. Thanks, everybody.’

It made sense, it was a long speech but it did make sense, but there was a part of you that couldn’t forget the checkpoint this morning, how everyone had been searched so carefully… no, this felt planned, and when the elevator pinged you grabbed your friend and hurried right on over. There was no time to stop and chat, the men before you were on a mission, and you gave them space to work as they put on their protective gear and fired up the blowtorch.

You’d never seen one in real life, why would you ever need to before this? And the blue flame drew you in as Bud held it against the metal until an entire minute had passed. The two of you leaned in at the same time when they sat back and lifted their goggles to see what the damage was, Lonny using a cloth to wipe away the dark burns. You couldn’t hear what they were saying from there, but you knew it wasn't good when Lonny then touched it with his bare hand despite the heat of the flame. You held your friend a little tighter as Bud then did the same, this wasn't good, if not even a blowtorch could break through this stuff then what hope did you have of getting out even if this was just a cruel joke?

You let go of each other when you realized you were sweating, your comfy work shirt turning into something stifling at your closeness, and when you looked around and saw that everyone else was in a similar state you knew that this wasn't just nerves. ‘It’s too hot, they’re gunna suffocate us in here,’ your friend mumbled as she wiped off her forehead, the sweat starting to bead again the moment her hand moved away. ‘This is bullshit, why hasn’t anyone come for us yet? Screw this, I’m heading to the roof for some air, you coming?’

‘No, no you know I can’t go up that high,’ you said quickly before starting to head for Lonny, you needed to know what was happening before your anxiety started to take over again. She stopped you in your tracks, tried to pull you right back while they kept trying, her grip on you way too tight in this heat.

‘I think you need to get over that shit before you pass out down here, look around, look at everyone right now; it’s sweltering in here, I just saw Willy burn through three bottles of water by himself, so why don’t we grab a few, take the elevator, and get some fresh a-’

She never got to finish her sentence, the back of her neck exploding out and making her fall limp into your arms, the too tight grip she had on you now nonexistent as you stared down and screamed. Everyone turned towards you before it happened again, another person falling before someone shouted, ‘Somebody’s shooting!’ Everyone took cover from your attacker, your body frozen in fear until you felt more hands on you; Lonny grabbed you and pulled you over to the chairs where Bud was already ducking down, your friend falling from your arms and to the floor as you were forced to let go.

Pandemonium erupted all around you as you hit the floor hard, your back pressed to his chest and both him and Bud protecting you when you were still too numb to protect yourself. There were so many screams, no one knowing when they’d be shot next, but even when more people went down all you could do was stare at the lifeless eyes of the person you’d been working next to for the past 3 years. You felt cold despite the heat, Lonny’s panicked breathing right in your ear while you didn’t hold him back, and only when Mr. Norris, or Barry, now, there was no more chain of command after this, walked over to one of the bodies did everyone stop panicking long enough to feel confusion over his bravery at still standing.

‘What the hell?’ you heard Bud whisper above you when Mike ran over to join him, Barry’s voice loud enough for everyone to hear over the ringing silence.

‘That’s not a bullet wound.’

More of them gathered but the three of you stayed where you were, waiting to hear what was going on, but their voices were lower now, they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Bud leaned away from you a little to listen, but the moment he did Lonny started to panic, and you felt a bit of life come back to you as you weakly held his arm to let him know you were still there. Instantly he looked down and held you tighter, you were his lifeline now that the bullets had stopped flying, and when you looked back up at him you saw the way everyone was touching the backs of their necks out of the corner of your eye.

All at once you felt your hand raise to your own, your knuckles brushing against his shirt as you felt the scar under your fingertips, and the fear replaced everything numb inside you until it was all you knew.

Mike realized something and ran, Bud watching him go before getting up and silently asking the two of you to follow; you did, your fear only spreading to Lonny as you held each other, but Bud remained calm as he opened up his toolbox and reached inside. He pulled out a hammer and large wrench, and the former was heavy when he handed it to you and tried to get Lonny to look at him. He said his name and made him only hold you harder, it was starting to hurt, but you’d rather feel that than the cold wood and steel under your palms.

‘Hey, stop. Don’t cry, okay?’ Bud told the man behind you, and you looked up to see that he was so afraid he was actually crying, his hands trembling as they bunched up your shirt. ‘Take this, and say goodbye, alright?’ He pressed the wrench into Lonny’s hand the moment he was able to get him to let go of you, and it looked even heavier than your hammer as he held it before you. ‘Let them go, and follow me, we’re gunna fix this and I need you to watch my back.’

‘But…’ He didn’t want to leave you, and you honestly didn’t want to leave either of them after losing your friend, and Bud leaned in closer and lowered his voice even more as he met your eyes.

‘Find a place to hide, we’ll find you within the hour, don’t come out before then, you hear me?’ he told you sternly yet carefully, they’d be sitting ducks in the basement if people started actually killing each other as commanded despite the maze, and your safety needed to come first while they worked without worry. So you nodded, Lonny nuzzling into the side of your head with a whimper that any other day would’ve made your heart flutter, but now it could only break as Bud helped him let go. You stepped aside and watched as Bud wrapped his hands behind Lonny’s neck, kept eye contact until he was calming again, and when he asked for something called a duke Lonny just nodded before pressing his forehead to his friend’s.

That’s what made them such a good team, you knew Lonny to be a good worker but it was thanks to Bud being there to keep him level that he was able to shine here, and you hated Belko for ever hiring the both of them along with yourself now now that you knew what they were doing to them. Not everyone who worked there was great, even you weren’t a saint, but Lonny was pure, and you regretted every single morning where you’d only looked but never approached when he met your eye and turned away.

Bud went to lead the way back to the elevator, and you knew as soon as the doors closed that you couldn’t stay up here, not alone with this uncertainty. You watched your co-workers, all of them strangers to you now, run after Mike when shouts came down the hall, but you didn’t follow after them; you needed to hide, just like Bud said, and even if they might be sitting ducks that didn’t mean you had to be in that maze. You hit the button and took the elevator down, making sure to take the long way around to the break room and go from there. You knew something like hiding under the table or cramming yourself into one of the empty lockers wasn't really feasible, but there were a ton of other hiding places nearby it, maybe if you even hid well enough you’d be able to hear them from a safe distance away and get their attention if anything happened.

You kept your head on a swivel as you walked, made sure you wouldn’t bump into them and make them send you elsewhere where anyone could find you, and you were just about to loop around when you noticed a door that brought you even further in. You opened it, a long hallway ahead of you, and you decided on it as you jogged down and found a closed off spot to duck between. It was tight, but you were successfully hidden from view, and it gave you a good vantage point of anyone who might come across you as you curled up and held your hammer close to your chest.

You’d gotten all of two seconds to strap in for the long haul when you heard the door open again, and you held your breath until you heard Lonny’s voice echo down the hallway: ‘They’re trying to freak us out by shutting down the air-co, man,’ he was telling Bud, and your moment of relief only slipped back into worry when it hit you that if anyone was bound to find you in here it’d be them if they stopped to look. ‘That’s their plan, right, Bud?’ A pause, Bud was silent as they walked, and that was only making him nervous again, you could hear it in his voice when he asked him for confirmation again. ‘Do you think it is, Bud? Do you think that’s their plan?’

‘I don’t know, Lonny,’ Bud said exasperatedly, he was letting his own panic show when he couldn’t give him a solid answer, and a pit landed hard in your stomach when they turned and stopped not 10 feet away from you. They started checking out the machine against the wall, which you soon realized was the air conditioning aka the thing that was currently not working and making everyone overheat in their own skins, of course you’d stop at the one place they needed to be, but it was fine. They were so distracted by it that you could continue hiding and then they wouldn’t have to worry about sending you out there again, so you remained silent and just listened while they tried to figure it out.

Bud turned on a light and confirmed that it wasn't working right at the source, every breath you took sounding like thunder in your ears when you realized that if he turned then he’d be able to see you, your focus too much on the barrels to your side to protect yourself from that angle. ‘How can you tell?’ Lonny asked as he stood by, Bud crouching down to take a closer look.

‘I can hear it, man,’ he said with a grunt of effort as he sat. ‘The pilot’s off. Everything.’

Lonny looked around to make sure no one else was down there with you, like they’d only just done it and were waiting to make sure they couldn’t turn it back on again. ‘Did they do it?’ he nearly stuttered as he turned back to him, Bud still focused entirely on the large machine in front of him.

‘I don’t know if they did it or not,’ he admitted as he started to flip switches and peek inside with his flashlight, nothing happening as a result, ‘but, we’re gunna fix it.’

‘They’re trying to break us down so that we start killing each other, Bud.’ Lonny’s voice was low but you still heard his words, he had the same train of thought as you, and you nearly stood up so you could at least stay with them a while until Bud spoke again.

‘You just need to relax, all right?’ he told him comfortingly, he wouldn’t let him worry about that just as much as you wouldn’t have if you’d stood up right now and went to him, and you decided you’d do just that when the speakers whined to life again.

‘I hope by now we’ve demonstrated that we aren’t blindly bluffing,’ the man on the other end told everyone, and you felt your legs lock up to the point of it being painful just at the sound of his voice. ‘This game’s a real one. Each of you are deep inside it. You can choose to follow our directives, or not. Either way, you’ll be giving us the results we’re looking for.’ You shut your eyes and shook your head, your hammer not nearly as comforting to you as Lonny’s arms had been earlier, you needed to stand, you needed to go to him- ‘You are mostly free to do as you please. However, you must not dismantle any more cameras. And you must not remove the tag from your body. Next time we will not provide a countdown as we did Mr. Milch.’

You started to pant at the thought of Mike being dead somewhere upstairs because he’d caught on to what was hiding beneath your scars, that must’ve been the cause of the yelling, you needed to get up-

‘If you break either of these rules, your life will abruptly end.’ You felt like stone as you helplessly watched Lonny start to cry, the threat of himself being next strong enough to make Bud stand and try to calm him again, but there was little he could do at this point. ‘There are currently 76 of you left in the building. The time is now 12:47PM. By 2:47PM, in two hours, we want 30 of you dead, through whatever means necessary.’ He started to panic harder, you could help, if you could just open your mouth and tell them you were there you could help- ‘If 30 of you are not dead, we will end 60 of your lives through our own methods. Begin.’

He was inconsolable, his hand on his head as he started to pace over the stranger’s words, and the only reason you weren’t currently doing the same was because as long as you knew the two before you were safe then you couldn’t give a fuck about the people upstairs killing each other anymore. You tried to move but your legs refused to listen, this was your moment to show him how you felt for him and help keep him safe, but every single part of you was buzzing, your head spinning as you repeated those words to yourself over and over instead; you couldn’t get out, you were all trapped inside while tensions rose, and if 30 people didn’t die in two hours then double that would be murdered instead, which made your chances of survival even slimmer.

If you didn’t help him and then find a way to keep him safe, while also finding it in yourself to kill to protect him, then you would both die, that was a certainty. He was a nobody compared to everyone upstairs, and even then their lives were all weighed the same, what chance did he have going up against someone who fought tooth and nail to get to where they were when he couldn’t even approach you for a donut?

‘L-Lonny…’ you gasped out, your voice lost under his sobs while Bud tried to console him again.

‘Hey, hey, Lonny, it’s gunna be okay…’ he was saying, but the moment he tried to hold him again he lashed out, the wrench given to him to cover Bud now wielded as a weapon to keep himself safe.

‘Get back off me!’ he screamed in his panic, Bud giving him his space as the desperation in his voice made your foot start to tingle as the numbness faded away. ‘Don’t look at me like that, man,’ he pleaded, Bud silent all the while, he wasn't about to upset him while he was panicking this hard. You wiggled your toes until you could move your ankle, your whole foot rolling and kickstarting the rest of you back into action, just a little longer now-

You let out a shriek when the fire alarm then went off, the sound startling you so hard that the numbness completely faded away from the pure shock to your system. This was good, you were moving again, but the sound was too much for Lonny, your smile of relief falling when you saw the way he was holding his ears. His panic attacks were so much more severe than yours, his anxiety loud and jumpy and raw while yours made you quiet and frozen, but you wouldn’t be still this time when he yelled out loud enough to block out the ringing.

‘What is that?’ he demanded as his pacing worsened, your legs slowly shifted underneath you while you started to rise.

‘Lonny, calm down, man! It’s just a fire alarm!’ Bud tried to tell him but it was of no use, his yelling over the noise was only aiding his own frustration, and your knees shook as you pushed yourself onto them, you were almost standing.

‘No, it’s not! They’re trying to make us kill each other,’ he sobbed desperately, the wrench waved around when he motioned towards Bud and himself.

‘Easy, cowboy,’ Bud kept trying, his eyes following Lonny as his pacing got even worse, and you moved yourself onto your feet at long last. ‘Chill out, man! Hey, come here-’

‘Get back!’

He swung on instinct, a defensive maneuver in his uncontrollable panic, and you felt yourself go numb again right as you got ready to stand; the sound of the impact was louder than the alarm, a sickening crack that made your stomach churn, and Bud crashed into the fence separating them from you as he reached for his head. He groaned as he tried to stand up straight, Lonny staring at him in a deathly calm fear as he silently mouthed his friend’s name.

‘Wait a second,’ Bud mumbled, his shoulder slumped and your mouth going dry when you couldn’t confirm where he was hit with his back to you like this. ‘What just happened? Hold on, uh… wait, wait. Something is happening.’ His voice started to grow soft as he slid down the fence, and when he fell you figured out you were crying when you blinked and felt a cascade of tears roll down your cheeks.

How did this happen? This morning everything was so normal, it was almost boring to you in its simplicity; you’d bought your crush a donut and actually spoke to him, you were planning on inviting him out to lunch even because you’d finally hit it off, how did that turn into this so fast? You couldn’t understand it at all, your attempts to console Lonny now too late as he fell to his knees and weakly crawled over to his friend to apologize. It fell on deaf ears though, even you could tell from behind when Bud stopped moving, the kind man who’d given you your hammer and helped make sure you were safe now gone as Lonny sobbed over him.

The alarm finally quieted as you both kneeled there, neither knowing what to do until he finally looked at Bud’s face, his eyes so sorrowful until you saw the way they looked to the right; he was staring directly at you, your hiding really hadn’t been good enough, and his sorrow turned back into terror when he saw the look on your face. Instantly he was on his feet and that forced you to move as well, he was panicking again because he knew you, you were his friend and you’d seen what he’d done, and now it was your words that went unheard as you held your hammer a little tighter and hurried out of your hiding place.

‘Stop!’ he ordered you, your shoulders hunching and more tears falling at the tone of his voice, so unlike the way he’d spoken to you about his family with smudges of chocolate decorating the corners of his mouth. ‘Bud, he fell down and he hit his head,’ he explained miserably, but you’d seen it all, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t.

‘It wasn't your fault, Lonny,’ you tried to say but he ignored you, moving like a caged animal on the other side of the fence as he stared you down, he needed you to believe him, you were his friend and he needed you to believe all of it.

‘He tried to grab me,’ he moaned next, the two of you inching closer and closer to the opening until he was reaching for you, assuming you were only there to run. You held up your arms and stayed where you were, his own hand pulling back the moment he touched you like he’d been burned but he didn’t retreat, the wrench still in his other hand as he waited for you to do something.

‘Lonny, Lonny, it’s okay, look, I know,’ you said quickly as you purposely let go of the hammer, his eyes watching it before you kicked it as hard as you could towards him as a sign of understanding. He glanced back at you before scrambling to pick it up, he had two weapons now, a hit from either one would be enough to make you reach the same fate as Bud, and when you finally got a glimpse of him you let out a gasp of misery. His head had been caved in, that’s what had happened, and Lonny waited for you to run again now that you’d seen what he’d done. You didn’t though, you wouldn’t, not when he needed you.

You made a show of getting back on your knees to tell him you wouldn’t run, your hands planted firmly on the cold cement to tell him you wouldn’t grab him, and he looked down at the hammer in his other hand before tossing it behind the machine to his left so it was completely out of reach. You nodded, agreeing with his decision, and he looked at his wrench next, his only weapon but still the thing he’d used to kill his friend, and he looked like he didn’t know what to do next.

‘It was an accident, it’s not your fault, I’m not afraid of you,’ you whispered to him, and he sniffed loudly before tossing the wrench to the ground. He fell to his knees and covered his face as he sobbed heavily, his cries echoing throughout the room along with his apologies to Bud for what he’d done. You waited until you couldn’t any longer, your numbness gone as you crawled over to him, and this time he didn’t bat you away when he peeked through his fingers and saw you coming. ‘I’ve been trying to talk to you for months,’ you told him, more tears spilling over the gaps and down his hands, ‘that’s why I keep bringing donuts to work, I’ve been waiting for you to come over so I could say hi to you; I wanted to do it sooner, but I’m a coward, that’s why I couldn’t be there for you earlier, I didn’t mean to watch I’m just a coward-’

He lowered his hands and wiped his nose with his sleeve, the tears still falling as he inched his way towards you. You were the one loudly crying now, if you’d just called out to him then this wouldn’t have happened, maybe you could’ve helped him, maybe if you’d just invited him to breakfast and skipped work entirely then you’d both be out there right now, and you didn’t realize you were saying it all out loud until he wrapped his arms around you. ‘He just grabbed me, I thought he was gunna hurt me,’ he whispered into your hair, and you finally held him back and sparked his desperation; he pulled you nearly onto his lap with a shuddering gasp, his hands clinging to you as you clung right back, the body of another dead friend staring up at you as all you could do was hold each other. ‘It was an accident, I’m not a bad person I’m not I’m not-’

‘I know, I know you’re not,’ you told him over and over until he was burying his face into your shoulder. You knew it must be hell up there but you couldn’t be bothered to care, all that mattered now was that you both got out of there together, you weren’t going to just sit by like a statue the next time his panic overtook him. ‘C’mere, let’s get out of here.’ You stood and took his hand so he’d do the same, and you cautiously headed back down the hallway with the wrench in hand again, neither of you stopping until he led you back to the break room and locked the door.

You were now technically locked into a room with a murderer, but you couldn’t see him like that, not him, not Lonny as he walked over to the sink and turned on the tap. He let it pool into his cupped hands before splashing it onto his face, he was covered with tears and sweat just like you were, and when he turned back to you all of the water ran down his chest and darkened his uniform. His bangs were soaked and dripping down his face, his eyes just barely showing through them, and you walked over to him and silently asked for permission to touch him.

He flinched at first, but eventually shut his eyes and let you while the wrench lay just within reach, and you were careful as you reached up and brushed his bangs to the side. You tucked them behind his ears and grabbed one of the towels for their dishes before wiping his face off next, just barely brushing the fabric against him so you wouldn’t upset him. It seemed to calm him even more, his shoulders relaxing and his body untensing just a little more with each gentle touch. When you were done you took his hand and got him to sit, it was still too warm in there, and you noticed the old fan tucked into the corner for those extra hot summer days. You made sure it still worked before turning it on, and he let out a sigh as the coolness hit him and allowed him a bit of a reprieve.

‘Here, your shirt’s all wet, it’ll help,’ you began as you reached for his uniform’s zipper, but his hand on your wrist got you to stop fast. ‘It’s okay, look, I’ll do the same, see?’ One-handed you undid your own buttons, your face flushing as you stripped off your very sweaty shirt and laid it over the back of your chair, your body instantly accepting the cold air and making you shiver in such a simple delight that it could’ve made you cry again. He looked you over quickly before doing the same, his blue shirt underneath hanging over his own chair while his coveralls bunched around his hips, his undershirt stained and damp from all the layers and the lack of AC. ‘We can rest here a moment, I don’t think any of them will come down here, so we can talk about what to do in the meantime.’

‘You think they’ll come for me?’ he asked nervously, already panicking over getting caught, but you shushed him softly and kept your hand hovering over his arm resting on the table between you just in case.

‘I don’t doubt everyone is in a similar state upstairs, no one will blame you for that, yours was an accident,’ you said truthfully, but he still looked nervously at the door all the same. ‘I need to find out what’s happening, we only have two hours, less now, and I don’t care if I… if I have to kill someone to do it, but I’ll make sure we get out of this, okay? And we can’t do that if we stay down here in the dark, leaving it up to them and chance might just seal our fate.’

‘If you go out there you’ll risk getting killed yourself, you know that, right?’ he said seriously as he leaned in, and his hand closed over yours and pushed it down onto his arm. ‘We can hide down here, I know all the tunnels, every twist and turn, I even know how to get into the vents; going back up there means that someone else’ll get hurt, that’s what they want.’

‘I know, that’s exactly what they want, and I doubt they’ll stop at 30,’ you muttered right on the edge of hopelessness, but his hand on yours made you suck in a deep breath and sit up straight. ‘But I didn’t spend the past 7 months of my life wanting to ask you out to get killed now, no fucking way.’

‘You… you wanted to ask me out?’ he questioned softly, his voice just barely above a whisper, almost like he was unsure he’d heard you correctly, and you nodded for just a second before he was leaning over the corner of the table and kissing you. Your eyes went wide as his hand held yours in place, the kiss chaste and a bit desperate but enough to make your heart pound all the same, and when he backed away his hair fell free and into his eyes again when his head dipped down to stare at you. ‘I’ve been… trying to get Bud to tell you for me since I first saw you, but he never would, he just kept saying I should do it myself.’ He looked away then, something sad after being so soft. ‘And now he can never…’

‘But you just did,’ you reminded him, your free hand reaching up to push aside his hair again, ‘and I can never forgive them for doing this to us.’

He nodded, his head was a bit clearer now even though he was still upset, the fan and the silence were certainly helping along with your words. ‘I’m still afraid, though…’ he whispered, and you shifted your chair closer to him so that you could pull him back into a hug. His skin was still warm as your chests pressed together, your hug instantly becoming something more intimate when you remembered that you were attempting to cool, but it only bonded you more when you felt his hand leave yours in order to place itself over your back.

‘I am, too, but if they want us to play a game together then I’ll fucking play until I can pay them back for our friends.’ You placed your forehead against his, your hand on his neck and feeling for his scar, and you shut your eyes tight when you felt the line stretching across his scalp, just as your own did. ‘I don’t know how yet, but we’re going to get out of here, and if this ends and I lose you…’

‘Then you’ll keep going, yeah? You said it yourself, we only just officially met this morning, I k- I hurt Bud, you shouldn’t have to give up just because of me,’ he whimpered lowly, another tremble making you open your eyes again, and you hushed him once more before wiping away the first tear that fell.

‘That’s why we need to both get out of here, so I can invite you to lunch and you can tell me everything we never talked about, don’t we?’ you insisted, and he nodded against you and placed his own hand on the back of your neck, the covered spaces starting to heat up again without the fan. ‘We can do this, you’re strong, and smart, and I’m a coward but I’ll help you in any way that I can, we don’t even need to join any of them, we just need to let them tear each other apart and up the count for us while we figure a way to get out, and… and if need be we can protect each other, I won’t let them get to you like that again.’

‘But what if they do? What if I get so upset that I hurt you this time?’ He didn’t want to even think about it, his breathing starting to quicken as he pictured you in Bud’s place, and you kissed him soft and slow until you were all he could feel.

‘Then I’ll know it’ll just be an accident, because you’re not a bad person, and, if I’m being honest, I think you might actually be better than most of the guys in this place,’ you said with a small laugh, and he thought about it a moment before laughing along with you, a small shred of relieved happiness in these hours of pain. ‘Come on, we need to see what they’re doing, do you think you could get us up to the security room so we could check the cameras?’

‘I think so, there’s a maintenance elevator that only Bud and I can use, it’s away from the others so they might think to use it last, they need a key to get it to run,’ he told you, said key stuck to the ring and line attached to his belt, and you nodded and kissed him again real quick.

‘That’s perfect, we can leave in a minute, you stay here and check for anything we can use to protect ourselves, I’m going to get my hammer back,’ you told him as you stood, but he didn’t let you leave at the thought of you seeing Bud again, or never coming back at all. ‘It’s okay, I won’t let anyone take you away from me,’ you promised him, and then he was letting you go and watching you hurry out. You didn’t get lost on the way back, the halls silent and telling you that no one else was around as you ended up at your destination without trouble.

There was Bud, still slumped where he’d fallen, and you closed your eyes for a moment of silence before kneeling down and closing his for him. You were just about to stand when you saw his own set of keys, and you unclipped them and attached them to your own belt loop before you heard a sound. You stilled, your eyes looking every which way for a sign of movement, but you saw nothing stand out in the maze. You narrowed your eyes and went back to getting your hammer, he’d really thrown it far to the point where you had to lay down and reach under the machine for it, and when you pulled back your hand it was covered in years worth of dust and webs.

You shivered and brushed it all off without a fuss, there were worse things to be afraid of down here now, and you hurried all the way back to Lonny with your own weapon in hand and a fire in your heart; you were going to get out of here, if you had to fight your way through this entire building to make sure no one hurt him again, then by god were you going to rain down hell on all who stood in your way, and when you returned to him and saw him standing there with his coveralls tied around his waist and his wrench in his hand you knew that he was ready to do the same for you.

#Ray's Readers #Ray's Requests #david dastmalchian #lonny crane #lonny crane x reader

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grapenamjams · 1 month

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At work I thought about a slightly angsty fic scenario about Togame 🐢 bare with me here as I just dump my thoughts

- A/N: reading this back I jump from using reader and “you” just ignore that. Thanks!

So, reader and Togame got together before he joined Shishitoren. Maybe first meeting when he was working at a festival (no I will not let this perfect meet cute scenario go) point is reader got to know Togame before he changed. Knowing His sweet, shy, caring, laidback side.

Therefore when he joins Shoshitoren Reader watches the Togame they knew slowly change before their own eyes. Turning cold, cocky , violent and cruel towards his fellow gang members.

Reader will still see glimpses of who he was when he was you. Reader Still knows in their heart that he would never hurt them physically and he loves and cherishes reader dearly but his personality still had changed dramatically, to the point reader found it hard to differentiate between his opposing personalities. Bleeding into his personal life. Reader also just couldn’t turn a blind eye to the things he was doing, the pain he was causing to others even though it was deserved at times he would go to extremes.

Naturally this was causing a strain between the two. distance and arguments were frequent in the relationship. Wearing each other thin. Togame knew he was hurting you and it pained him but he was adamant to his promise he made to his friend.

Reader hearing about what happend under the bridge, what Togame had done and the scheduled battle with Bofurin was pretty much the tipping point for reader.

The night before the battle. Reader and Togame had an argument.one of the worst ones yet. Words were said that hit harder than bloody fits ever could. Monster was one of the words that made Togame freeze in his tracks as he followed you into his bedroom watching you grab your things that had slowly started to apear through the years together. Reader regretted the words once they left their mouth but they remain firm. Togame didn’t remember what he said but it was enough to bring tears to his partners eyes and have them make a straight line for the door. He sinks to the floor head thudding against the wall, letting out a curse as he runs his hands through his hair the silence to loud your last words the only thing ringing in his head.

Almost a week goes by since the battle with Bofurin when Togame found himself in readers living room. He wanted to hide, to let you go completely, telling himself that you would be better off without him. Even though he was finally able to drop the facade he had built for his promise. He knows he caused you so much pain. hurt you so many times to able to save what you two had.

But in all his efforts at distance he couldn’t step away and leave things how they ended that night. not before trying to apologize to you for his behavior. He knows he didn’t deserve it, your forgiveness, for you to not remember him only for his worst parts. He knows he treated you horribly, not taking care, cherishing you as he ought had done. as he wanted too. He couldnt handle the thought of you hating him. It tore him up inside to know you thought him a cruel monster at the end of your guys story. And he tells reader all of this.

“That person…that wasn’t who I am. You know me, yeah? I got lost in my own facade I created. I just…” his deep voice falters, tears that were in his eyes begin to drop down. “Your opinion of me matters so much to me, angel. I don’t want you to hate me I don’t want you to leave us thinking I’m a monster. I know I havnt done much to prove otherwise recently… I’m so incredibly sorry for how I hurt you. You didn’t deserve that and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I just…fuck I just wanted to try”

Your heart aches at Seeing him so desperately asking for your forgiveness. Almost as if he wants to get on his knees if you continue to stay silent. (I’m breaking my own heart here yall god T_T)

The relationship had recently become rocky, but at the end of the day you both loved each other. You had always known that his true self was locked away somewhere and you had hoped to see him again. of course it won’t be the exact same, but you knew you would love every version of him never being able to truly hate him. Meaning so much to you. Telling him this, Togame tears fall freely.

“Say it again” he pulls you into him tightly anchoring himself as he shakes with quiet, sobs. “say that you don’t hate me please”

You hug him back just as fiercely before pulling back to cup his face in your hands. Tearful eyes taking in your face, desperately. “ I don’t hate you I never could. I love you Togame.”

#windbreaker anime #wind breaker #togame jo #wbk #I wanna hold him so badly now why did i write this #word vomit #imagining Togame say angel makes my heart flutter

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lestappenforever · 9 months

Note

Do you have any lestappen fanfic recommendations? :)

Hello my lovely anon! ❤️

I was unfortunately shit at bookmarking fics when I first started reading Lestappen fics, and I still haven't had time to sit down and read through everything that catches my fancy in the pairing tag on AO3 again so I can do a proper job of bookmarking fics I really enjoyed, and creating a complete fic rec list. But, I am absolutely planning on doing it as soon as I have time at some point next year!

As for right now, I can definitely recommend the fics I have remembered to bookmark while reading/re-reading!

Below you will find some of my absolute favorite Lestappen fics:

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And That's How I Foksmashed Dad's Championship Trophy Teen And Up Audiences | 6,500 words | Complete By the legendary queen PrincessElectra (AO3)/@il-predestinato (Tumblr)

Summary: All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy.

(Jimmy had insisted that it was not nice to shame another living creature about their weight, but she was not wrong. With her compact size and considerably more reasonable mass, Sassy was confident that she was much more comfortable for Max to have on his lap than that horrendously oversized creature.)

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Keep to the Line Mature | 13 696 words | WIP By the incredible fancastik (AO3)/@nico-di-genova (Tumblr)

Summary: “Red Bull Racing have announced that Gianpiero Lambiase will not be returning as Max Verstappen’s race engineer for the 2023 season. Taking his place will be Charles Leclerc, former Scuderia Ferrari performance engineer.”

His hands had shook around his phone as he read the announcement, his breath firmly lodged in his throat. Charles has known he had the job since he first sat down across from Christian Horner and accepted the offer, alongside a Red Bull polo, with hands that felt bloodied. But reading it from the official F1 socials is something else entirely. It is real.

“At twenty-five, Leclerc will be the youngest race engineer in Formula One history.”

He had barely managed to get to a trash can before vomiting up his lunch.

Or:

The Engineer!Charles AU no one asked for

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P19 Explicit | 5 619 words | Complete By the exceptionally talented leafycats (AO3)/@sennaverstappen (Tumblr)

Summary: “Charles,” it comes out soft, worried, upset. Charles will light himself on fire. He hears Max take a few steps towards him, feels two warm, winning, arms wrap around his fast-breathing chest. He’s still wearing those golden shoes. Max snuggle into his neck. “I’m here for you.”

And Max had won, and he’s winning the season, and he’s P19, and losing this season. And Max is winning, and he’s not even talking about it – choosing to comfort his Charles instead.

Every little thought converges into a single, red-hot one.

He’s going to fuck the pole sitter so hard he’ll be sore tomorrow.

“Max,” he whimpers, trying to find his voice, find his grip, find his footing in this world. Max tightens his grip around his waist. “Yes, angel?” And he can feel Max frown against his nape, soft breath against his earlobe. It turns his body white-hot.

“Get on the fucking bed.”

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The Nights Are Long (But It's Easier Together) Explicit | 43 759 words | Complete By the amazing f1writingbyme (AO3)/@f1writingbyme (Tumblr)

Summary: “Oh, God, what is it?” Max groans. “It’s Mr. Corvetto, right? I knew it. I’m telling you, never move into an apartment next to elderly people. It’s just– Why does she call me? What the hell can I do? Doesn’t she need to call an ambulance or something? Or, I don’t know, her family, or–”

“Max.” Charles interrupts Max’s ranting. He ends the phone call, cutting off Mrs. Corvetto’s panicked yelling with a simple press of his thumb. He stares at the blue-eyed man in front of him. “Your apartment is on fire.”

Or: The fire in his apartment is only the beginning of a long list of misfortunes that await Max. Fortunately, he has Charles by his side to help him through it. That is until Charles is the one that gets targeted.

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you and me, just us (and your teammate sergio) Teen And Up Audiences | 3 377 words | Complete By the wonderful averyverse (AO3)/@oscar-fastri (Tumblr)

Summary: Checo was fully aware of what he’s walking into. Still, he seriously doubts that anyone could have been prepared for the full force of Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc being heads over heels in love with each other and not even trying to hide it.

Or: 5 times Checo thirdwheels Max and Charles + 1 time it's everyone else's turn

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Temptation's Trajectory series Explicit | 25 009 words | Complete By the incredible pongsfootxlily (AO3)/@cupidskissx (Tumblr)

This series consists of two equally amazing fics that I've lost count of how many times I've read.

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more than fun, you're the sanctuary Mature | 21 813 words | Complete By the wonderful lestalos (AO3)

Summary: “Because I love you.” He said it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like it doesn’t crush him to admit it, like it doesn’t scare him that it won’t be reciprocated. Or, Charles loves Max but he's scared. Max is bold enough for the both of them.

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen fic recs

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madstronaut · 2 months

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I recommend bringing popcorn while binging this absolutely stunning firstfic(?!)

first off I am deeply pleased to be rambling once again over one of my earliest and beloved moots' fics

I have been biding my time to savor reading branchy’s very first (?!) fanfic works below and the best way to describe what it feels like to read KM is like watching an action movie but in writing - also once again fucking stunned by the fact this was her first fic; absolutely blown away by how many incredible firstfics i have read that rival published fic out there imho

reading: The Killing Moon by @deadbranch

I listened to the song ‘Killing Moon’ by Echo & The Bunnymen while reading this and it took me straight back to the 90s and thought of the hours of Charmed I watch for some reason...btw if a fic you read mentions certain songs playing in the storyline, highly recommend listening while reading for a full cinematic experience ✨

“Oh my…I knew you were from the States but uh…that’s…an accent ya got there.” “Likewise, sir.”

*gigglin uncontrollably* also shoutout&thank you @/jasonsmirrorball whose commentary on another fic used the indents when quoting from the story which was a fantastic idea!

You notice the subtle change when he bites the inside of his lower lip as his gaze briefly drifts to your lips and back to your eyes.

mmm the triangle eyes, might as well have a neon sign over your head blaring AM EYEFUCKIN YOU RN

(what are triangle eyes? see gif reference below)

You fight the urge to roll your eyes but instead maintain a locked a gaze with Price, “It was something to do. My career was headed for a desk and I’m not done yet. I’ve got more in me, I can do more. I want more.” “Fuck. Finally, a real answer. And no ‘sir.’ Feels good, doesn’t it?”

fucking love branchy’s OCs/protaggos; slay, my alpha queens, slay (also pls step on me)

Don’t need to be caught gazing at chain of command’s ass. Eyes forward, always forward. Eyes fo…

a simple win-win solution my queen: don’t get caught😂

ehhehehe wedding tackle indeed i’ll wed soap’s tackle anyday hehehehe cough moving on

also i am fuckin half in love with OC and her nicknames…typhoid mary, saint of killers (PREACHER REFERENCE!!), iron maiden, sorceress..there’s something special & intimate when you’re christened with a new name by friends/a group of people some odd ones I've had in the past are: bloody mary, albondiga, bringer of tears (thankfully not because of killcounts like dallas here) 😅🤭

“Do they all have different names for you?” He smiles again, his eyes matching the mirth his mouth betrays. You try not to smile in response. The last thing you need is to be thought weak, or stupid. Or like you’re flirting with a superior. None of those are a good look. “They do. Did. I’ve known a lot of people who didn’t want to say my name.”

branchy has a uncommonly talented trait of fleshing out so much history and worldbuilding through straight-up pure/raw dialogue where i can see hear & smell & sense the physical surroundings, the way the characters are holding their bodies, the tensions, emotions - all between several quotemarks! one of the reasons branchy is one of my favorite writers on this hellsite (affectionate)

our mouth hardened into a thin line as you nodded. “No worries, Johnny. I survived his death. I can survive his unexpected resurrection.”

i happen to be reading hunger games rn and dallas reminds me a bit of katniss - (they are direct, bold, present a flinty face to the world due to the harsh settings they’ve survived - yet despite all that, it hasn’t buried their humanity or hardened their heart that deeply just yet, and it breaks through not too far from the surface here and there)

anyway soft soap supremacy and back to thirsting, what was i saying…

..JUST KIDDING LET ME DO AN EXCRUCIATINGLY DETAILED BREAKDOWN of how much i love this scene of ghost seeing dallas again finally

literally just a few back-and-forth sentences’ worth of lore from the previous chapter and already fiending for the tension and drama of their backstory!!! the little things like dallas being able to pick up the difference in his voice, the mention of them entrusting their real names to each other, noting he touched up his eyepaint, the mention of LIMINAL SPACE!!!! (as an anthro grad I was and still am fucking obsessed with victor turner’s liminality and communitas and anyway am always soooo chuffed to see the phrase out in the wild) and anyway not really sure who to be more jealous of here, that dallas got to fuck ghost or ghost got to fuck dallas (yes yes why not both)

“I’m…sorry. I’m so sorry.” He says the words plainly, less gravel than usual, but with a pain you don’t recognize. “I’m so fucking sorry, love.” The last syllable breaks in the back of his throat.

fucking shredding my pillows in how delicious the angst is

My name. My name was in his mouth when he died.

None of them knew Simon would whisper your name in the darkness, your name a prayer on his lips. As though saying it would conjure the most vulnerable and savage parts of your soul so he could enjoy you more fully, so he could offer his own vulnerability and savagery in return. To be consumed in the same fire.

🥺🥺🥺this is such fucking shakespearean levels of trauma and poetry, i doff my cap to thee branchy my literary queen

i am fucking bouncing off the walls here with the..foreshadowing? the layers of meaning baked into such small almost throwaway lines and gestures - does price even know what he’s offering (and taking) from dallas by letting her know she can call him john after hours/OUT OF UNIFORM? i know this is endgame price x dallas but i find all this past romance angst fucking DELICIIOOUUSSS

Soap backs up another step as he works his way around the rec room, his mouth open, head tilted back. You smile as only he can make you smile.

“Your hugs fix a lot of things.” You smile as your eyes meet his.

The timbre of his laugh is a delight, a warrior’s voice tinted with naivete and levity. But he was always easy to cheer up.

honestly when im not simping for soap i think he’d make such a great and easygoing friend, god i love the way cod writers have headcanoned him as such for the most part

Your face is unreadable as you let the smoke escape into the space above you. The gilded ceiling leering at you through the haze. Your dress uniform feeling stiffer and more unnatural by the moment. A shroud more than armor.

i have definitely felt the itchiness of having to wear a fit, or a face (as have we all at some point) that didn’t quite sit right - but i am mostly glad for the experience of learning to see them as tools and costumes versus prisons and limitations. anyway im blabberin at like 243am which is why im getting vaguely metaphorical and philosophical lol

In the three months since your transfer you’ve gotten to know Price’s moods, what annoys him, what makes him smile. You can appreciate that he says more with his silence than most people can say with words. You justify your attention to detail by telling yourself you notice little things in everyone around you, not just John. The old hypervigilance. Or your excuse.

i love seeing price through the (heart)eyes of dallas 😍 a secret pleasure of mine is discussing what crushes feel like for myself and others and comparing and listening to all the different ways and reasons people fall in love - and also love the ways prices navigates his own bids for attention from dallas behind the veneer of professionalism

The years haven’t erased the memory of his footfalls, his measured gait.

oooh i was just discussing this with friends, how when you’ve known someone for so long you can tell who they are by a specific jangling sound of keys in a lock turning or just the gait of their footsteps from afar

also this wasn’t in the story, just the A/N but “ghost’s abbattoir of a psyche” is a fucking AWARDWINNING turn of phrase branchy 👏👏👏i fucking slow clapped irl like a dumbass when i read it thats how much i liked it lmao

Damn he sounds sexy through the comm. Don’t know what it is about the comm…

brutal honesty here but i could probably come just from any of the COD men speaking to me over comms, im just stating the facts

“I’ll make it up to you. When we return, we can do two lessons back-to-back, or we can do an extra-long lesson. Your choice. Over.” The line crackles.

“What about every night? I’ve got catching up to do, love. I’m not getting any younger.”

HOLY FUCKING SHIT IF PRICE SAID THIS TO ME AFTER BREAKING PROTOCOL I WOULD PROBABLY COME IMMEDIATELY

i am fucking mooning over young ghost thirsting for dallas immediately “She looks strong, but in the way that he wants in an argument, or in bed. Or against the wall.” yes yes ghostie this is my bread butter and jam and also to use the a/b/o lingo alpha men who want alpha women are just 😘👌🫶

At the time, Ghost was in love. She had no idea. He had wanted her to make the first move, the way she had approached him when he first arrived at the mess tent in the desert, unafraid. He had wanted her to want him. For Sorceress to claim him for herself.

🥹🥹🥹 not me crying a little and dying inside reading this and seeing ex-archangel dallas through his eyes

literally yelled out FUCK at the top of my lungs when the team cockblocked price and dallas at the bar fucking GO AWAY AND LET EM FUCK GAWD

also fucking love when writers mention music in their fics, i listened to every song mentioned here when they came up…also branchy ur texan is showing with how many country songs are mentioned in your writings LMAO

and FUCK I SIMULTANEOUSLY LOVE AND HATE YOU BRANCHY FOR ALL THE HEARTBREAK AND ANGST IN THIS FIC FROM DALLAS, FIRST WITH GHOST AND NOW SOAP? I FUCKIN KNEW HE WAS CARRYING A TORCH FROM HER FROM ALL HIS LITTLE COMMENTS AND GESTURES BUT MY GOD WHEN HE SAYS HE HAD TO BE SURE AND THEN SENDS HER OFF AFTER PRICE 😭😭😭😭

“Shh… shh… listen to my voice, love. I’m here. Nothing’s wrong. We’re in the hotel. You’re safe, I’m safe. The team is safe. You’re not in that place again. Those places are gone. You’re here. With me. And you’re my darling, love. You are mine. Shh… Come back to me. Come back to me, my darling…”

the disassociating panic/anxiety attack scene was…wow. as someone who's experienced them myself i found it viscerally a little too realistic (once again hats off to you branchy, incredible writing) but i appreciate how raw and real it is portrayed here…and ofc price’s little comfortspeech would probably cure all heartbreak if it was real

His wristwatch digs into the side of your right leg. You secretly hope he leaves the watch on as he fucks you tonight. And his dog tags. You want to take them in your teeth as you ride him later.

*me, furiously taking notes for bedtime imaginary/IRL scenarios before realizing i would probably spit them out of my mouth immediately at the metallic taste in a very unsexy way right into wearer’s eyes most likely*

“Well, I don’t wear underwear…I bet the team gets the wrong idea about me all the time.”

😂😂😂

also my heart stopped at dallas finding the ring in the jacket pocket? im unsure of the sense of time in this fic but the ‘i love you’s made their appearances in the 1st inning here!!!

i also love vargas nickname of mija 🥹he would be the best dad (sir i can help you with that cough)

You snap out of your daze and refocus your eyes on Price. His eyes are the bluest you’ve ever seen them. You swear they were a slate gray when you first met. Cold and distant, from a long winter. Your heart tells you it’s spring.

i fucking love this line, so beautiful and tender mwah mwah chef’s kisses galore for this branchy

“This path, all of this, would be my tomb. I need life, not death,” you finish, not sure what else can be said.

🫶

You were too much alike.

this!!!! i clocked this back when soap said the “neither of you smile, you both can have unsmiley babies” - be wary of dating/getting romantically entangled with someone who is a mirror, speaking from personal experience…just because you can reflect and find familiarity in each other doesn’t mean you won’t get burned

anyway i am busy crying at the anguish of soap and dallas’ last convo and the “i shouldn’t have turned you away, i was mistaken” and the “no, you did the right thing” correction

Only John would be willing to challenge Death to a chess match just to buy time. You give up.

unf!!! fucking love this and the parallel set up with the seventh seal movie reference and the proposal!!! THE FUCKING PROPOSAL and then everyone pitching in to figure out how to make this work for dallas is just 😘👌👌👌

your spare time the both of you had figured out that your height disparity, though not extreme, was enough to cause some mechanical challenges.

this is the only math i will enjoy working out, that and math rocks (dnd joke)

You don’t look up, but you can imagine he’s smiling. That little smile John saves for you, the one the rest of the world will never know.

🥰🥰🥰

“No. Not into the rank thing, love. Honestly, I’ve never found it a turn-on…the power difference…” “I’ve found my equal. My match in all things,” the corners of his mouth turn up a little at the admission, his voice quieting, “And I can’t fucking imagine a life without you.”

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

so i usually like to liveblog my notes as i read through but my FUUUUUCK THE LAST FEW CHAPTERS WAS LIKE THE LAST ARC OF AN ACTION MOVIE THE PACE WAS ABSOLUTELY DIZZYING IN THE BEST WAY AND I TORE THRU EM LIKE A BAT OUTTA HELL

fucking obsessed with the archangel program lore (also slightly sobering as it reminds me of black widow + red room and bucky barnes + winter soldier + IRL MK Ultra + CIA vibes) - I know there are several other series here so emotionally preparing myself to read some of them after this

You don’t know what someone’s made of until you really fight.

this is an IRL adage i live by and yes I do think a sense of character is truly revealed in conflict that can’t really be seen in other circumstances

also the SELF CONTROL of these two to put a pin on makeup fucking to hash out their woes

You approach Price, your arms held out. He allows you to pull him into the warmth of your arms, but not before he kisses you.

this small line about dallas with her arms out gave me goosebumps knowing the journey she has taken re: vulnerability throughout this fic 🥹🥹

I know I should be, but if Soap and Ghost can survive you, then I think I’ve got a pretty fair chance.

but did they rly tho lol I feel dallas will always be the one that got away for 'em

In truth, you’ve felt like you belonged to one another long before today…. In the dark you practice saying your new names and quizzing each other on little details, like the actual date on your marriage certificate.

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 i love this sm

i listened to all the song refs as they came up in real time and listening to fade into you by mazzy star made me feel like IDK how I felt after finishing die hard or mad max fury road like I went on a fucking JOURNEY...a SAGA...an EPIC....and I need a drink or some taco or bbq, or preferably all of them lol

BRANCHY CAN I POSSIBLY INTEREST YOU IN A SIDE CAREER/HOBBY OF SCREENWRITING COS GODDAMN WOULD I WATCH AN IRL MOVIE TRILOGY OF THIS

#madstrothought #FaFiCoWriMo #fanfiction #call of duty #captain john price #The Killing Moon #deadbranch #john price x fem!OC

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wilsonpussyindulgence · 9 days

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a couple of years ago, i started having an allergic reaction. i broke out in hives on my legs, and i could not stop scratching. i would wake up in the middle of the night because i had drawn blood. i would sit on my couch and itch and itch and itch. now, i’ve never had this kind of reaction before; as far as i knew i wasn’t allergic to anything other than nickel, which i obviously didn’t have on or around me in any way. i knew whatever it was was in my apartment, because i didn’t itch at work or anywhere else, but i couldn’t figure it out. i hadn’t changed any soaps or fabrics or anything recently.

so i went to my GP, who shrugged and immediately sent me to a dermatologist. this was great to me, because i wanted an allergy test. from onset of itching to seeing this dermatologist, it was probably about four weeks, and while the itching waxed and waned, i was still covered in scabs when i finally saw someone who could help.

so i get my appointment, and i explain to the dermatologist what the problem is. less than a minute into the appointment, she interrupts me. that’s not a real thing i’m describing, she says. it’s not possible.

she takes my arm, and she runs a wooden…i don’t know, tongue depressor? down my arm. it immediately raises in an angry red line.

“you overproduce histamine. take a claritin”

i’ve never had a problem like this before, i say. i would like to get a general allergy test.

“it would be a waste of time. if you are still itching after the claritin, then maybe in another eight weeks.” and she leaves. i waited four weeks and she saw me for about five minutes.

i’m angry, but i take the claritin. it’s incredibly dehydrating on top of the other meds i take, so i take it for a few days and quit.

the itching…recedes. it’s on and off. it doesn’t get as bad as it was in those first few weeks again. i look up what she’s written in my chart. urticaria, common name hives. she diagnosed me with hives. no explanation for why i had a spontaneous outbreak of hives. i simply had hives.

there’s another thing, listed at the bottom, “dermatographic component.” i look up dermatographia. “dermatographia is harmless,” the mayo clinic says, “most people who have this condition do not need treatment. It tends to be more common in teens and young adults.” I am thirty, and I do need treatment. There’s one more thing in my chart: “Urticaria education provided and all questions answered.” Really. News to me.

I am SO frustrated, but the itching isn’t bad enough anymore to keep pursuing it. i am defeated. i still think about it, occasionally, on and off. She is right, about the dermatographia. It’s the cause of what they call “skin writing.” But if I redo that test, making a red line along my arm or even on my leg where the hives were, it doesn’t itch enough for me to scratch it to bloodiness. But I still don’t have any good answers about why, for about two months, I broke out in hives so bad I had to be fully clothed every second of my day.

unrelated to that, i just read about an autoimmune condition that causes you to have random allergic reactions apropos of nothing. it’s fine. no big deal!

#lmao sorry i just needed to rant #it’s something that’s pissed me off for years now

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theysangastheyslew · 2 years

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Hey!!!

I want to share more suffering with you, homie haha *crying*

What do you think of the episode? Especially 132 part ofc!

Hi friend! :'))))))))) Ooooooh honey that gif is such a mood XD I’ve been trying to collect my thoughts and this is the best I can do atm. Sorry it’s kind of wordy but here we go 🥲

Ok! So ever-present pacing issues aside, the overarching story made for a solid episode and the animation was incredible. Hell, even the things I disliked objectively looked well-done out of context. Overall, that was no small feat to pull off, especially in such harsh working conditions. I truly do want to acknowledge that.

But in regards to 132, you guys already put into words how I feel better than I could. I may not have anything new to add, but I’ll say what I liked first and then put my issues under a cut.

As someone who actually really likes Yams’ art style, I loved that they consistently kept Hange’s face accurate to the manga. It was really inconsistent throughout the final season and they struggled to not make it too short a lot of times. Hange was always still stunning of course but the difference always stuck out to me. Here everyone was drawn well, but you can tell she got some extra attention.

The way they inched Levi closer to where Hange was sitting while talking with Yelena. Insignificant yeah but consistent with their past behavior. Also I’m glad they tweaked the position of his bandages so it looked less like they were painfully tugging upwards on his nose.

The pained expressions of the kids and Hange watching Levi struggle to even hold his gear

The “unrequited love” exchange. It had most of the softness and emotion from the manga even though the weight of that line will never be realized in non-written form. The camera lingered on each frame in a way that conveyed the sentiment. This is what got my hopes up that they would stay truer to the source material with DYH.

I'm so glad they left in Hange's lines to Flochroach about not giving up. Helps show—once again—that they wanted to live

The choked way Levi said “Devote your heart” + Hange’s widened eye and soft gasp at his words. Though not tearing up like in the manga, the shot still looked lovely for the half second it lasted. He doesn't pause halfway through saying it though so this one I'm still wrestling with.

Of course, the last stand. Onscreen, Hange took out at least 16 colossals (including the ones we see trip and get trampled) and definitely more offscreen (when they cut away to show other characters) and for the last few, did it while in the most pain a human body can feel. 7/10 for combat, my ass. Idk about y’all but I can’t stop hearing Romi Park’s screams in my head. I knew it would be nauseating and brutal but dear God. At the same time I cannot put into words how proud I am of them. That's my commander 💜

Ok “like” is definitely not the right word for this but I had wondered when I first read 132 how Hange’s gas tank was so well-insulated that it didn’t ignite, and.. well I got my answer.

I’m thankful that they didn’t show a glimpse of Hange’s bloody, crushed remains the way you see in the og panel. That at least felt respectful to me. This is wishful thinking I know but the defined charred outline makes me choose hope they fell more off to the side from where the titans were walking so at least there was maybe still a body left to recover someday.

The afterlife scene, the kids all sobbing their hearts out, Levi holding his own hand in the aftermath trying to process what just happened, and Onyankopon confirming the plane’s significance all really were appropriately gut-wrenching.

I really recommend taking a little break between The Rumbling and Sinners. It definitely makes the shift in emotion less jarring and less

When I did that with my rewatch it helped with the flow of things.

Ok, now twist me up and call me a pretzel bc here there be some salt :|

I’ll try to leave out my og issues with the manga chapter itself (like how painfully obvious it was all just to make Armin commander and how unnecessary Hange dying was IN THE FIRST PLACE and IF it had to happen at all how it could have been done at the final boss skelepalooza showdown, etc.) and just focus on the episode.

Goes without saying but it bears repeating: pacing. 75% of my issues with the execution of DYH would be gone if they just slowed down a bit. Just let the weight of it sink in a little. That this moment —all shreds of shipping aside— is the end of the line for these two heroes who have been supporting each other for ten years while bearing the weight of the world on their shoulders. But Mappa completely reversed the timing of the sequence of events. In the manga we had a longer, more intimate farewell followed by a last stand that was so short even when you knew it was coming it left you reeling from how fast it was from start to finish. Whereas here they hurried it along to get to the “main event”. Hell, it flows better in gif sets than it does in the actual show.

To me, it felt like Hange’s demeanor didn’t really change from talking with the kids to speaking with Levi, making their false bravado seem like less of a front. I know their tone was meant to sound like they were keeping up appearances, but with how often Hange just gets reduced solely to being a titan freak the way they had Romi say the lines made it sound like actual excitement, especially with the way they drew Hange's facial expressions (more on that next)

Hange’s little smirk after the salute. I kinda get what they were trying to do here but to me it came off as very flippant and dismissive of Levi’s choice of words, especially since they all but got rid of their lips trembling and eye beginning to well up with tears. I wish we’d gotten the big fake smile and laugh because that would have shown better that Hange was overcompensating by trying to put their brave face back on after starting to lose their composure. Their fear is obvious in the manga but it just simply didn’t come through as well throughout this entire exchange.

Sooo Hange almost tears up when Pieck said their words inspired her yet minutes later when their Best Friend tries to say goodbye there’s nowhere near that kind of reaction? Sure, Jan

Levi’s face. Ok look. It’s not a lack of emotion on his part that bothers me. It’s that it’s an entirely different one to begin with. He looks bummed at first yes, but then that changes to what I’m guessing is supposed to be determination which comes off as anger or annoyance (kinda like what changed with his scene with Armin on the stairs). They removed what made this parting different from previous ones, which was the sense of open vulnerability and the dawning realization that now he’s going to have to let Hans go too. See it's not like they were in the middle of the battle just yet. This situation came on suddenly and unexpectedly; it wasn't "supposed" to happen. One second they were on track and the next Hange is being torn away by fate. And yes, the highlights play a part in that transition. Anyone who draws eyes knows the importance of placement and intensity and the major impact they have over the final expression. And when drawing a comic you certainly don’t take up valuable page space with three panels focusing on the hope draining out of someone’s eyes if it wasn’t supposed to be the focus. I mean for fuck's sake, even the Final Season!Nendoroid Levi got it right. Plus, if they could make a point of getting Eren's eyes right during the raid on Liberio they could have gotten it here.

When the camera cuts to the kids watching the titans fall the angle doesn’t let you see that Levi can’t bring himself to watch for more than just a second

NOT MAPPA’s FAULT but since I’m being whiny right now I’m going to add that while ACWNR is a mixed bag to begin with, WIT’s adaptation not including Levihan’s introduction saddens me bc Levi asking Hange to keep watching loses a bit of extra oomph.

Really it just comes down to the fact that there was nothing wrong with the original page. It wasn’t overdone or dragged out by any means but considering many other scenes got shot-for-shot depictions I don’t think we were asking for anything outrageous by wanting a faithful adaptation. The couple frames we got that were almost perfect were so freakin fast you barely had time to process them before it cut away.

I wanted to like it, I really did. Especially since MAPPA did so many things so incredibly well as a whole. My expectations weren’t high, and I did want to give it the benefit of the doubt. But when it came to DYH, it felt both watered down and disjointed, like a completely different scene.

But so it goes. At the end of the day, Hange still dies a horrifying death for plot convenience, and Levi is left behind to suffer once again. It was always going to hurt and I was never going to be ready for it, no matter how it was done.

#gahhhh i keep seeing posts that better verbalize what im trying to say #words are hard #tldr: basically i agree with what you kleinzoe kachuusa warm starlight murdergiraffe nenithil glassesandswords and mcxynth all said #now imma go listen to voices carry by lights and the world is ugly on repeat bc if i see 1 more ‘hange was suicidal’ take ill eat my hand #le me #replies #ramblings #rantings #snk #levihan #analysis

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tanjir0se · 1 year

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As the World Caves In, pt II

Pairings: Rengiyuu (Rengoku x Giyuu) Words: 5.4k (7.8k total) Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Everybody Lives AU Warnings: (full fic) Graphic depictions of canon-typical violence, medical procedures, blood, bodily injury

If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything, I swear.

It was now or ever. And now he’d gotten so close to never, closer than he’d ever thought he’d get in all his wildest nightmares, that the unbridled fear of it now carried the words unspoken up his windpipe, threatening to burst.

“K-Kyojuro,” Giyuu began. And Kyojuro looked at him with those stunning, earnest eyes--eye--and Giyuu’s next words fell from his mouth in a huff. “Damn it,”

This is part 2/2. Read the previous part here!

You can also read the full fic on AO3!!

“You ought to be more careful, my friend!” Kyojuro chided as he unbuttoned Giyuu’s uniform. “Look, you’ve ruined another uniform shirt!” He was referring to the large slash on the shoulder of Giyuu’s uniform, courtesy of the demon they’d just taken down together. Though they’d only known each other a few months at that point, Giyuu had learned that Kyojuro apparently preferred to dress his wounds himself despite Giyuu being fully capable, and he knew Kyojuro better than to try to argue.

He said nothing while Kyojuro frowned at his bare and bloody chest, appraising the long but superficial wound that spanned across his pale skin, coming to a stop at the hollow of his throat. He did tilt his head slightly back to allow Kyojuro to inspect the full extent of the wound, his quiet way of thanking him. Kyojuro hummed to himself. His golden eyes suddenly flicked from Giyuu’s wound to his face, stealing away Giyuu’s breath in a surprised huff.

“Does this hurt?” he asked, abruptly serious. Giyuu shook his head. Rengoku had a habit of making him lose his train of thought when he looked at him like that. “You shouldn’t have jumped in front of me. I would have been alright!”

Giyuu stared at him. The demon they’d been fighting had prepared one vicious strike right after another, while Rengoku had been finding his footing from the previous. Rather than allow the strike to land on the Flame Hashira, Giyuu had stepped in with dead calm, both sparing Kyojuro from the attack and causing it to fall on himself.

To Giyuu, his actions made perfect sense. Kyojuro was obviously the superior Hashira. He felt it only natural to protect the greater asset to the demon slayer corps, even if it meant putting his life on the line.

Kyojuro raised an eyebrow and cracked a small grin. ��I know that look.” He said. It was the look Giyuu did when he was about to try to argue with him on something: brows slightly furrowed, gaze steady with heavy lids, lips parted. Realizing he was caught, Giyuu relaxed into a half smile and allowed Kyojuro to gently dab dirt and debris away from his wound.

“You may be reckless,” Kyojuro began, “But I have to admit, that eleventh form is incredible! How on earth did you learn something like that? Ah, I bet I could practice for a hundred years and never even get close!” His gaze now focused on Giyuu’s wound, he didn’t notice how bright pink his friend’s face had become. Kyojuro spoke highly of everyone, but praise of his swordsmanship coming from someone as incredible as him was still a high compliment.

Kyojuro continued. “Such fantastic work, I’m truly lucky to be on your good side!” He laughed and patted Giyuu’s chest with one hand and retrieved a first aid kit with a suture needle with the other. His hand was rough but warm against Giyuu’s permanently cold skin.

“For now.” Giyuu joked back. Kyojuro blinked once, surprised and a little disbelieving that Giyuu had actually cracked a joke, but after noticing the tiny upward tilt of his lips, smiled even wider and laughed even harder.

“I’d better toe the line then! Otherwise I’ll be the one needing stitches!” He laughed at his own joke while stitching his wound and Giyuu actually smiled along. Few could melt through his icy silences like Kyojuro could. Few understood what he was trying to say even when he was silent like Kyojuro did. “Ah, you always know how to make me laugh.” Kyojuro added with a sigh that made Giyuu’s heart ache.

Kyojuro’s half-open eyes saw white, made hazy by tears clinging to his dark lashes. White drifted above him, and for a moment he drifted with it, unaware that he was even conscious, just floating. Once his mind returned to him he tried to blink to dispel the haze but found himself unable, paralyzed, flat on his back and floating through nothingness. For a few moments he believed himself to be dead. Until the pain struck him.

He considered himself no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything else. His entire body felt shattered. Even something as simple as breathing was a battle, as if his lungs and the walls of his chest themselves were locked in combat against one another. If he was indeed dead, this must be hell.

He thought so, until he heard a distant voice reaching to him from beyond the endless white oblivion around him. There were gentle hands on him, as if bringing him out of the haze and back into reality.

Someone was cradling the back of his head, tilting it slightly upward as they removed bandages from the left side of his face. The light changed slightly as they did so, though nothing came into focus. Fingers brushed lightly over his left eye. Whoever the hands belonged to, whoever was nursing him, sighed.

The bandages were replaced. A warm rag brushed against the aching skin of his arms. A hand rested lightly against his chest, directly over his heart, feeling it beating steadily. Kyojuro still couldn’t move or speak but whoever was tending to him apparently didn’t mind. The voice was silent while they worked but the silence was as gentle as their hands. That silence, its softness, the coolness of the hands on his body reminded him of something…

The haze slowly began to lift, as if his nurse’s gentle tending was pulling him back up out of the nothingness and into reality. As his mind cleared he groped for anything to anchor him back to the present; he remembered a cold wind, a column of flames.

“Another letter from Tanjiro today.” His nurse said quietly over the rustle of papers. “And…one from Uzui.”

Kyojuro would have leapt out of bed, if he could move. The kids! The train! The upper rank! I’ve got to get back there! Kyojuro wanted to reach out, tell the speaker I don’t care about a bunch of letters when Tanjiro and the others could be in danger—

A letter from Tanjiro? He’s alright?

“Uzui’s letter first, then?” The voice said. More rustling of paper. A clearing of the throat. “Dear Rengoku, I apologize for my absence, since this damn mission is taking longer than I expected, I’m absolutely certain you’re beside yourself with grief that yours truly isn’t there with you—” the speaker scoffed, and Kyojuro would have laughed too, if he could move. “Anyways, I’ll spare you the non-flashy details and regale you with the full story when I can see you again. Please get better soon, the mansion is too boring without you. Tengen.”

In full earnest now, and with little else to do but lie there, Kyojuro tried to remember what had happened. The last image he could conjure was the electric flashing of blue and pink, a crazed laugh, and distantly, someone crying and calling his name.

He assumed he was recovering in the butterfly mansion, but how long had it been since he’d fallen unconscious? Long enough that he was getting letters. He wondered if he’d gotten any from Senjuro. Or Giyuu.

Giyuu.

He’d just been dreaming about Giyuu. One of the first times he’d noticed Giyuu blushing at him, one of the many times Giyuu had made him laugh. That’s what the silence had reminded him of. With great difficulty, with everything he had, Kyojuro managed to grunt softly.

Halfway through Tanjiro’s letter, the voice stopped. Even unable to see, Kyojuro could feel eyes on him, knew them to be deep and indigo and discerning. He sucked in a labored breath against the pain wrapping around his ribs, and this time managed a groan.

“Kyojuro?”

God I’d know that voice anywhere.

Kyojuro’s eyes slid closed, then open once again, still heavy-lidded, still teary, but open. The fog around him lifting, the first thing he saw was his nurse, pale skin, a mess of raven black hair and a set of indigo eyes.

In spite of everything, he smiled. “Giyuu,” he murmured.

Giyuu felt his heart stop in his chest, his relief so intense it nearly paralyzed him. Kyojuro was looking at him. Kyojuro was alive. His world had crashed back into orbit again. He grabbed his friend by the arms and held him there tightly, desperate not to let him go again.

“Kyo! God—” Thank god, thank god you’re alright! I was so worried, I was lost without you! His throat was so tight he could hardly breathe let alone speak. “You’re awake.” He managed stupidly after a moment. Kyojuro opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out for a moment. For once, Giyuu actually spoke instead. “Kyo…” he found himself saying again.

Kyojuro lifted his head and tried to sit up, straining against the unbelievable pain that shook his entire body. He caught a glimpse of a large, blood-shadowed bandage over his abdomen before his forehead suddenly bumped into Giyuu. He must’ve been closer than he’d thought. The unexpected bump sent him back down against the bed with a groan. Giyuu still hadn’t taken his hands off of his arms.

“Please don’t try to get up.” Giyuu murmured. “Your depth perception is probably quite off.”

Kyojuro frowned at him and opened his mouth to ask why he’d say that, but another bright pulse of pain behind his left eye answered the question for him. Giyuu watched him with an expression Kyojuro had never seen him wear. His eyes were wide, tearful, endless. His pale lower lip trembled along with his hands, though he didn’t say anything. There was about a million things Kyojuro could ask: What happened? Where are the kids? How long has it been? He decided on something different.

“Kyo, huh?” He asked, his lips turning slightly upward into a smile. Giyuu stared. “Where’d that come from? I like it.”

Leave it to Kyojuro to say something like that at a time like this. That little smile on Kyojuro’s lips made Giyuu want to smile with him, to laugh and grab him tightly and never let him go. But he remembered the feeling of those lips against his, the taste of blood as he breathed for him, and the beginnings of his smile faltered. He came so close to never seeing that smile again. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on his shoulders so heavily that Giyuu dropped his head down and pressed his forehead against Kyojuro’s arm, as if in prayer. Overcome.

Kyojuro watched him and his heart ached. He’d never seen Giyuu this upset, or at least he’d never shown it this plainly. It seemed like a fairly strong reaction to a simple battlefield injury…there must be something more to this situation he didn’t understand. He called Giyuu’s name softly and waited for him to look up. “I’m alright.” Kyojuro said, softly for once, his throat dry and raw. “It’s alright.”

Giyuu looked up. “No, Kyo, you’re not. You were dead.” His brows fell heavily over his eyes in apparent anger. “I had to beat your heart for you, I—I had to breathe for you!” His voice was low, tightly measured because if he spoke any louder or with any more ferocity he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep tears from falling.

There was a brief silence while Kyojuro appeared to consider what he’d said. “And the train passengers? The kids?”

Giyuu’s eyes briefly widened in shock, but his brows were quick to pull down again. “Are you not hearing me? You were dead. It’s nothing short of a miracle that you aren’t dead now!” Kyojuro looked at him, still waiting for his answer. Giyuu’s frown deepened but the quiver in his lower lip betrayed him. “Will you worry about yourself, just for one moment?”

Though Giyuu had pulled away, Kyojuro still found an errant strand of his hair to curl between his fingers. “Why would I do that, when you do it so well?”

“Kyojuro, please.” Giyuu begged. “You—” he dropped his gaze again and struggled to conjure the words he meant. “You’ve been in a coma for more than three months. An upper rank had his arm through your solar plexus!” Kyojuro managed to look down at that shadowed bandage on his stomach, then back up at Giyuu as he continued.

“Kyo, you may never wield a sword again. You came very close to never breathing again! And I—” he snapped his mouth shut and averted his gaze from Kyojuro’s.

Still fighting through shockwaves of pain, Kyojuro watched as Giyuu stared at the bandage on his stomach. “Giyuu.” He said gently, cautiously. He knew Giyuu to have a temper, but he was acting differently than Kyojuro had ever seen, like there was something he needed to say but couldn’t find the words. “If I would have died, I would have done so gladly! It’s the risk we take as demon slayers—” he fell into silence as Giyuu looked back up again, his eyes filled with tears.

“Am I supposed to have been glad, too?” He asked bitterly. “You talk about yourself like your life is not worth anything! As if—” he stopped again. His breaths were coming faster and faster now. Giyuu did not continue, so Kyojuro did.

“My life isn’t worth any more than anyone else’s…” he began. Apparently on a roll of surprising him, Giyuu cut him off.

“Well it isn’t worth any less, either!” He exclaimed, not shouting, but with an intensity that rivaled Kyojuro’s. “God you remind me of Sabito!” He added in a huff.

That stopped Kyojuro dead, all attempts at argument shut down. Giyuu never mentioned his family. Not even silently. He’d only learned he’d had a sister after they’d already known each other for more than a year. Sabito and Makomo he only learned of through Urokodaki. He watched Giyuu’s face and waited for him to continue. He did, though silently.

Giyuu looked down and shook his head, his brow furrowed. You’re making this so difficult. Kyojuro watched his jaw clench and unclench, his mouth opening for a moment before clamping shut again. I need to tell you something. Fat, heavy tears fell from his eyes and onto the backs of his hands, which tightened themselves onto the blanket near Kyojuro’s forearm. It’s killing me.

Looking down, head bowed, Giyuu was thinking of the bargain he’d made. If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything. He felt as overwhelmed as he was when he’d first come to the horrific scene at the train crash, his world spinning. His foolish and hopeful and frightened heart cracked deeper and deeper and threatened to come apart altogether as he tried to find the words to make Kyojuro understand.

It was a long time before Giyuu spoke aloud again, and when he did, his voice shook.

“Kyojuro.” he finally said. “You think to be brave is to be selfless. As if you have no regard at all for your own life. That isn’t bravery. It’s self destruction.” He remembered the feeling of Kyojuro’s ribs snapping beneath his hands. He remembered feeling Sabito’s, too. He couldn’t meet Kyojuro’s gaze, knowing without trying that the look he found there would burn his resolve away in an instant.

“You may think your life isn’t worth more than anyone else’s, but—” closing his eyes, Giyuu breathed out a sigh. “It is. To me.”

That was a surprise. Kyojuro stared at him, his shaking hands and the gaze that refused to meet his. He was even more surprised to find a faint pink blush spreading over Giyuu’s cheeks and nose.

They fell into silence while Kyojuro watched Giyuu’s blush deepen.

He’d always loved Giyuu the same way he loved anyone or anything else: loudly. My friend, how wonderful to see you! You always know how to make me laugh! Every compliment, every smile, Kyojuro was saying it over and over without ever saying it. I love you I love you I love you.

But Giyuu had never been the type to do anything aloud. He loved quietly, privately, almost invisibly if someone wasn’t paying attention. Knowing his order at their udon cart without asking. Stepping in front of him to spare him a strike from a demon. Gripping onto the blankets of his cot, unwilling to meet his eye, unwilling to let go. I love you I love you I love you.

Kyojuro was more than glad to allow their I love yous to remain unsaid, unspoken but still there, always there. He had become fluent in Giyuu’s body language, the soft silence that fell between them when they were together.

But now the silence was uneasy with tension, as if there was something aching to be said.

If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything, I swear.

“K-Kyojuro,” Giyuu began. And Kyojuro looked at him with those stunning, earnest eyes--eye--and Giyuu’s next words fell from his mouth in a huff. “Damn it,” he cursed, moving as he spoke, finally releasing the blanket and grabbing instead onto Kyojuro’s arm.

Before Kyojuro could ask what he needed to say, Giyuu had closed the distance between them, taken him gently but quickly by the sides of his face, and kissed him.

Kyojuro was so surprised he didn’t have time to move or react, just let Giyuu kiss him, his hands gripping tightly onto the sore sides of his bandaged face. Eyes wide open Kyojuro watched Giyuu’s brow pull up, his eyes tightly shut as if in great pain.

And he was. Giyuu had never felt such agony, such elation, such horror at feeling Kyojuro’s lips on his again. It had never occurred to him until that moment that Kyojuro may not feel the same as he did, that his friend—could he call him a friend?—may be shocked, or worse, disgusted. But he couldn’t bring himself to care, now that Kyojuro’s lips didn’t taste like blood anymore.

The ecstasy of finally letting out what had been clawing up the inside of his throat since the first moment he ever laid eyes on Kyojuro, bright and beautiful in the Master’s garden, and the fear of losing him, the trauma of coming very close, raged a battle in his chest that crashed through the rest of his body until he finally was forced to pull away, gasping.

Kyojuro didn’t dare speak, just watched as Giyuu slowly let his breath out and leaned back.

“I can’t lose anyone else I love.” Giyuu concluded. His voice was no louder than a whisper and yet it echoed through the room as if he’d shouted it. The fear eventually coming out on top in the battle raging in his aching heart, Giyuu tried to move fully away, to stand and brush off his haori and regain whatever dignity he had left. Once again Kyojuro’s hand came down on his wrist, stopping his escape.

Kyojuro stared into his face until Giyuu looked at him, marveling at what he’d just done. Kyojuro had known for a long time that he loved Giyuu. And he’d known that in his own, quiet way, Giyuu loved him too. But now he’d said the quiet part out loud. What bravery it must’ve taken. Kyojuro looked at Giyuu’s lips, pale and thin and pressed into a hard, nervous line. He looked down and stared at Giyuu’s wrist in his hand. He released it, but captured Giyuu’s hand instead.

He kissed the back of Giyuu’s hand, his fingers, the inside of his wrist, the back of his forearm, pulling him down and down again until their faces were inches from each other, indigo eyes meeting gold. All those times he’d watched Giyuu flush pink at something he’d said, all the tiny moments he’d noticed the tiny changes of expression on his face, and Kyojuro had never dreamed of kissing him. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he’d accepted long ago that they would always share something unspoken, and that would be enough.

They stared at one another, breathing heavy. Giyuu watched as Kyojuro’s eye traveled down his face and landed on his lips before Kyojuro pulled him down far enough to kiss him back.

It was as if he’d never been injured in the first place. All the pain that had rattled his ribs just moments prior was gone and it was a hundred times worse. His chest no longer ached and it ached more intensely than ever before. In fact he’d never felt more aflame, Giyuu’s icy cold lips on his burned away any other thought besides Giyuu’s name.

He felt Giyuu take a breath and relax against him. He felt his lips part slightly beneath his. And then in spite of himself, in spite of everything, Kyojuro smiled.

Giyuu felt Kyojuro’s lips turn upwards against his, then felt him shake slightly as he began to laugh. Giyuu opened his eyes and found Kyojuro’s closed in joy, his head thrown back as far as he could manage while still lying in a cot, laughter beginning to peel from him like church bells. If it were anyone else, Giyuu would assume they were mocking him. But not Kyojuro.

“What could you possibly be laughing at?” Giyuu murmured, resting his hand on Kyojuro’s cheek. Kyojuro tried to stifle his giggles and Giyuu realized how red his friend’s face had become.

“All that time,” Kyojuro began with a sigh. “All that time I wanted to kiss you…Who knew I had to do was die!” He laughed again despite the pain in his stomach. Giyuu frowned at him, trying very hard to be serious.

“That isn’t funny.” He chided. Kyojuro just laughed harder, louder, stronger, as if Giyuu’s kiss had healed him. Giyuu rolled his eyes, but for once he didn’t think about how close he’d come to never hearing that laugh again. He didn’t think about how Kyojuro’s eyes had been staring blankly up at nothing, how his golden skin had paled and his chest fallen still. That laugh was like the sun parting through clouds, and for once Giyuu just sighed and chuckled with him. The sound of his laughter made Kyojuro laugh even harder until they both devolved into giggles.

Since Kyojuro’s laughter was both very distinctive and quite loud, it was bound to attract attention as other inhabitants of the butterfly mansion began to follow the sound. Giyuu leapt nearly a foot in the air when he heard a voice from behind him.

“Mr. Rengoku?” Giyuu quickly moved back from Kyojuro, who released his hand, though both relaxed when they saw Tanjiro standing in the doorway, his eyes already filled with tears. “Mr. Rengoku!” Tanjiro shouted, and sprinted forward.

“Young Kamado!” Kyojuro grinned at the way Giyuu moved back to allow Tanjiro in beside him. “Ah, how good to see you!”

All Tanjiro managed to say was his name as his eyes welled with tears. Kyojuro put his hand on his head. “Don’t cry, I’m alright!” He said softly. “Besides, I don’t want you tearing that belly wound open again!”

Tanjiro looked up, then at Giyuu, whose face was neutral and measured. “Mr. Rengoku, my stomach is all healed. It’s been three months.”

“Ah. So it has.” Kyojuro shifted and tried to get a better look at the boy. Without speaking, or having been asked, Giyuu slid his arm beneath Kyojuro’s shoulders to help him sit up.

Tanjiro couldn’t help but let out another sob. “I’m so glad you’re alright! Mr. Tomioka hasn’t left your side since you got here!” Though escaping Tanjiro’s notice, Giyuu went bright pink and set his jaw. Kyojuro grinned at him.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” He said softly, speaking to Tanjiro but looking at Giyuu as he helped him settle in the new, more upright position.

Next to follow the sound was Shinobu herself, who was so surprised upon appearing in the doorway to find Kyojuro looking up adoringly at Giyuu, holding him by the shoulders, his face bright pink, that she actually froze for a moment. It did not take her long to realize what Giyuu had done, and she smiled, blinking away tears. Finally.

Then she put her hands on her hips, blinked the tears away, and gave Giyuu the chiding of a lifetime for daring not to tell her that Kyojuro had awoken. Inosuke appeared next, already yelling, leaping onto the foot of Kyojuro’s bed and declaring Kyojuro the master of death itself. Zenitsu was quick to follow, carrying a half-awake and tiny Nezuko with him. Once her bright eyes fell onto Kyojuro’s she leapt from Zenitsu’s arms and joined Inosuke on the foot of Kyojuro’s bed, her delighted voice muffled by her muzzle but still clearly excited.

Any Hashira who wasn’t on a mission joined them. Mitsuri’s bright—if shrill—sobs of joy briefly drowned out anyone else’s attempt at speech, Sanemi sternly but firmly put his hand on Kyojuro’s shoulder, his jaw clenched tightly, Gyomei offered a prayer of gratitude. But the room stopped when Senjuro arrived. He stared at Kyojuro in the doorway for a long moment, as if disbelieving that he was really awake and breathing. It took both Shinobu and Giyuu to keep Kyojuro from leaping out of bed to greet him. Senjuro ended up sitting on the bed beside his brother, handing him letters that Giyuu had handed him and helping Kyojuro catch up on three months’ worth of missed correspondence.

It was only then that Kyojuro’s attention was jarred enough from Giyuu to look around at the scene surrounding his sickbed. On a table behind Giyuu was a stack of letters, cards, and notes. Beside the letters were gifts, wrapped in colorful paper or fabric, stacks upon stacks of bento, boxes of candy, several vases of flowers, several more wilted bouquets of lying on the floor beside his table. All of it had been carefully organized; The notes had all been gently unfolded and stacked in chronological order, the bottom boxes of bento had been opened, likely emptied of their contents before they could spoil--it had been three months, after all--rinsed and replaced on the table. The flowers had clearly been traded out for fresh ones each time the previous bundle wilted. Kyojuro couldn’t help but smile even wider at Giyuu the more he noticed his work. There he was, saying it over and over without anybody but Kyojuro knowing. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Though typically Kyojuro never seemed to tire, he had just cheated death after all, and so much commotion from so many well-wishers was becoming difficult to keep up with. Shinobu was quick to pull rank even on other Hashira and clear the mansion out when she noticed his eyelids becoming heavy. Only Giyuu and Senjuro lingered while she caught Kyojuro up on his injuries.

“I'm sure you’ve already noticed the injury to your left eye. It was ruptured. We treated it with medicinal ointments and managed to close the wound, but your pupil doesn’t react to light anymore…I’m afraid that eye will be permanently blind.” Kyojuro nodded slowly, remembering feeling Giyuu changing the bandages there before he was fully awake, remembering how he’d bumped into Giyuu’s head with his new lack of depth perception.

Shinobu continued, though her voice became gentle and slow. “The wound to your solar plexus was the most severe. It went all the way through your torso and damaged your spinal cord.” She told Kyojuro. Senjuro and Giyuu had already heard this from her, but it hurt a little to watch Kyojuro’s reaction to the reality of his injuries. His eyes wandered down his own stomach, across the bandage, and toward his feet. “It caused damage to the nerves that control your left leg. So far it seems like it still moves, but I don’t know how strong it will ever be.”

You may never wield a sword again, Giyuu had told him. Kyojuro had breezed past the statement at first, just glad to be alive. Now, staring at his left foot and trying to wiggle his toes, finding with a strike of fear that he could only manage to move the foot a matter of millimeters, Kyojuro swallowed but set his jaw, stiff-lipped, trying to look strong in front of his brother.

“I see.” He managed.

Shinobu laid out an aggressive rehabilitation plan for him, to start as soon as he was ready, then parted with an oddly knowing look that made Giyuu squirm just a little. Nothing got past her. Senjuro lingered a bit longer, but as intuitive as he was, nothing really got past him either. He could see his brother’s head beginning to nod as exhaustion overtook him. And he could see the way it nodded toward Giyuu’s faithful and unwavering hand on his shoulder, his cheek falling against the back of Giyuu’s palm. Senjuro slid off of the bed and invented an excuse to leave, letting Kyojuro begin to drift. Before he left though, he met Giyuu’s eye.

“Thank you, Mr. Tomioka.” He said quietly. Giyuu nodded silently at him; he’d been thanked by Senjuro several times before during the blur of these three months, once the boy learned how his brother had managed to survive the battlefield. Senjuro’s eyes were on Giyuu’s pale hand as Kyojuro’s cheek fell against it. “Thank you for saving my brother.” Senjuro continued in a whisper.

Giyuu nodded again, though this time it was because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Senjuro left the two alone in the wing of the butterfly mansion, the light of evening turning gold around them. Giyuu nodded a third time, this time just to himself, because he couldn’t think of a way to say Kyojuro is the one who saved me aloud.

He felt Kyojuro sigh against him and looked down. Kyojuro’s good eye was open again, looking down at his own feet. “What’s going to happen?” He asked, mostly to himself, trying to move his defective left leg and frowning when he failed. After a moment he looked up to meet Giyuu’s gaze.

“I don’t know.” Giyuu admitted. With a defunct left leg and no depth perception, it was quite clear Kyojuro wouldn’t be wielding a sword any time soon, perhaps ever again. He’d be forced to retire as a Hashira. He swallowed and watched Kyojuro, who seemed to be thinking very hard.

He’d been born a Hashira, the blood was in him from the start. He’d always thought he’d die a Hashira, too. It wasn’t just the cornerstone of his identity but the very basis of it; everything else was built up from there. His entire concept of himself was going to crumble without his sword, without the flames curling from his lips as he wielded it. Without the knowledge, the certainty that he would eventually die in service of their cause. Now, Kyojuro didn’t know what he was going to die for.

Kyojuro looked into Giyuu’s eyes and watched them carefully as they began to shine. His ivory skin was glowing in the dying evening light, his hand was cool and soft against his cheek. He looked past Giyuu at the stacks of gifts on the table, the letters Senjuro had read for him and left for him. And he smiled. And he kissed Giyuu’s hand again and he smiled even wider, lips still against his cool skin.

“Me neither.” He said softly.

He did know what he was going to live for.

Evening fell into night with Giyuu by Kyojuro’s side, where he’d been all along and would be as long as he allowed him to remain. Their hands eventually entwined again, Kyojuro every so often kissing Giyuu’s as if in awe that he could. Each time Giyuu felt a little more faint. Each time he watched Kyojuro’s chest move up and down he relaxed a little more. By the time the sun had slipped down over the horizon Giyuu was practically asleep too, leaning against Kyojuro’s cot.

Kyojuro watched the back of Giyuu’s head, tiredly carded his hand through Giyuu’s mess of black hair, couldn’t keep from smiling.

“I love you.” He whispered aloud to Giyuu. Because he could just say it now, because he still had breath to whisper it into the dark room, because his heart had kept beating long enough to see Giyuu turn slightly to look at him, eyes heavy.

“I love you too.” He whispered back, aloud. The words came as easily as breathing now. He settled his head back against Kyojuro’s cot, keeping his neck craned back so he could look at him for just a little long before sleep overtook them both. I love you too, he said, silently.

#THERE IT IS LADIES AND GAYDIES AND STUPID PEOPLE!!!#kny #rengiyuu #rengiyuu wednesday RIDES AGAIN!#anyone who reads or comments: we shall have a summer wedding #this is a mess and incredibly long so maybe read it on ao3 so you can get the full thing?#also you should all know that this has inspired in me the Everybody Lives AU brainrot and now THAT has consumed my life #and i spent the last four hours drawing my post- As the World Caves In Kyo #no matter what he and giyuu obviously have Secret Relationship shenanigans #stay tuned for that next wednesday!

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historia-vitae-magistras · 1 year

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I am currently trying very very hard to be good and do my grad school work diligently. But then you posted and my willpower disintegrated.

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Rhys didn’t knock, he never did. Privacy hadn’t been much of a concept when they were young.

I love these little behaviors they keep and how... lived in? it makes them and the world feel. They've adapted to each new cultural norm to some extent, but some things from how they grew up stay with them. And there's also something about Rhys having this little quirk and Arthur remembering why he does that feels... I think intimate is the word I want? There are literally a handful of people on earth who'd even remember the era Rhys grew up in, and even fewer who went through it with him and would be able to connect those norms to his present behavior. IDK - point being I liked those lines a lot.

The world had long been spinning with Alfred as the axis, but a glance left, beyond him to Matthew and she let decades collapse and he suddenly had both of them in arm.

He squeezes them. Jack is so tall, warm and bundled into a sweater and unusually solemn. He’s too bloody big to hold properly but Arthur tries anyway, suddenly desperate for the certainty of the physical. But Zee he could still hold, if only barely. It was awkward, how long he held on. He didn’t want to let go. Three children in his sight, two in his arms. Three. That'd been normal once. No longer. Zee hugged him harder than she normally did, usually giving one quick and then slipping away. She knew what was in that box.

I can't quite wrap my head around what I want to say about this scene, but I will attempt.

The world's been spinning around Alfred because of actual geopolitical stuff. The British Empire collapsed and America became the center of the Anglophone world. That's a level that they as personifications operate on - politics does inform who they have relationships with and how those work. Jack and Zee aren't just more distant with Arthur and Matt because of all the messed up interpersonal stuff, but because politically Alfred is more relevant to their lives.

But that level isn't actually relevant here - whatever's going on with Alfred, it's not changing the way the world works. So this thing where they're reverting back to how it was as kids, with Arthur being dad and being able to hug them, that's purely on the emotional side. They're upset about Alfred going missing and they're falling back to the earlier dynamic, not because they've gone back to the geopolitical reality that created it, but purely because of emotions.

It's... I highly doubt I've managed to get a point across here, but it's a lot. Something about them being people with free will and individual emotions independent of what they represent, and also them being people who worry about each other and fall into old patterns when they're stressed even though the origins are fucked up and they're all fucked up too.

He jolted, seeing his second son, tall and sharp where his mother had been— His fist went down by his side. “There was some evidence—” He couldn’t quite say it.

Arthur is NOT having a good time lately. First they dig his corpse from the axe incident up, then mom appears when he's not ready for her, then it turns out Alfred's missing. And it's all connected. No wonder he's drinking so much, it's like someone sat down with the intention of crafting a scenario that would cause him as much emotional distress as possible. (Not that I'm accusing you or anything... XD) Also, I'M SO EXCITED THAT I CALLED THE AXE! I realized as I was reading that the title was definitely a clue, but whatever, I'm giving myself credit. I CALLED IT! And now I am bouncing off the walls waiting to figure out how Alfred's going to be relevant to this incredibly traumatic event in his father's history.

“He finally let them open up the back garden for a testpit hoping they’d find some old knickknacks and they found two corpses. And one’s him.” Rhys said.

Love that Arthur let the archaeologists in because he was hoping they'd do all the work to find some of his old stuff

Also love Rhys just casually explaining that this dig found two corpses and one belongs to the guy standing right there. I know their lives are weird, but that one's so weird that the casualness tips into absurdity.

Zee said more, arching her hand over his spine. He couldn't hear her words but he remembered that blow.

The description is, as ever, absolutely fantastic. I could really feel Arthur's stress and how he was getting lost in the trauma in that moment.

“You don’t have to do this.”

Arthur’s head turned sharply. Matthew was suddenly there, from nowehere. At his sister’s elbow, opposite Rhys. He’d put himself where he always been once upon a time. Between his father and his siblings. Mortar between the bricks.

Again, just... them reverting back to these dynamics is killing me. It wasn't a good thing that their "family" existed, and it sure as hell wasn't healthy (probably still isn't), but there's something about the way the world got knocked off its axis and they all fell back into it. In some ways it's sweet (because there is genuine, if very complex and uncomfortable affection) and in other ways it's unnerving because it's caused by Alfred's disappearance. They're all working together, in this fucked-up-but-very-effective unit, but there's also the constant reminder that it doesn't (shouldn't) work like this anymore and they're doing this because something's gone very wrong.

His hand went to his back and he conceded to gravity, falling into a chair. “I’ve dug up the back garden at thousand times since ten-eighty-something. My corpse hasn’t been rotting under the bloody tudor rose for a thousand years. Your brother slid out of reality and whatever that is,” He pointed to the bones. “Slid into it.”

I am absolutely hooked on this story for so many reasons. I want to know why they got swapped, I want to know why there was some kind of time delay where the bones arrived before Alfred got yeeted, I want to know how Alfred connects to that very specific trauma of Arthur's, and I am so fucking excited to see all of it play out with the Anglos trying to deal with not only an emotional situation, but an emotional situation where Arthur is one of the most affected. (And I'm desperately curious to know how Alfred fared after attempting to trade a NASA patch for a ride to the Ren fair... to a bunch of actual medieval warriors.)

This is fic is absolutely amazing and I am so glad you're continuing it, I love it so much!

THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭 new chapter soon I always feel rotten for answering late without having another one but 💚💚💚 thank you.

#the ask box || probis pateo #why i write #honestly your comments are just such a positive force you don't even know 😭#naxos

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whumpshaped · 9 months

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I'm probably super late & no pressure to respond but I want to share a scar story! (Maybe it can inspire writers who want to read a firsthand experience about some OUCHITY OUCH pain.)

I have a tiny straight line of a scar along the nail of my big toe. But the interesting bit is just, the painful part tbh. It's wild but might be squick. So again, no need to respond or read it all. Bail if it gets too squick. Nothing life threatening or gorey, just big ouchers.

(CW: I had a Matrixectomy/partial nail removal. But he forgot the local anesthetic.)

I was like 14 yrs old and had a really infected spot on my toe where my nail had become ingrown that kept getting infected again if I stubbed my toe etc. so my mom took me to a medical clinic & they performed a Matrixectomy. But without a local anesthetic.

So it's one nurse, one doctor guy and my mom. He just gets right to it after all of the tools are brought out and was pushing teeny mini scissors/cutters into the infected skin area that was really tender and painful by just barely walking on it, cutting a straight line on my nail to the base of the nail to remove the problem area. With No injection for numbing. I was like a 90lb stickboy of a beanpole but my mom had to help the nurse hold my legs down bc it was so hard to stay still and not roll around in pain. I tried not to cry too much and didn't scream bloody murder because I didn't want to inconvenience the doctor or freak my mom out but that shit HURT. Then he applied the acid with a q-tip or something that scars the area so the nail in that section doesn't grow back. That also hurt.

Once it was over I sat up and nearly passed out so they had to make me lay back down, & brought me a wet towel for my forehead. Once I was good to get up we walk out the door to pay or whatever, idr, I just know I almost passed out in the hall on the way to the counter, and then one more time in the parking lot before I got in the car to go home. The gauze was so tight my toe was throbbing, I was literally just writhing in pain on my mom's bed for 1 or 2 hrs till I loosened the wrapping and the pain finally went down enough that I could sleep it off with an Ibuprofen.

A couple weeks later the nail still curled into my skin and got infected again. 🫠 I nearly cried when I saw the pus it was gross and I didn't want to go through the procedure again, I was an anxious wreck over it. We go to another clinic, get told the first guy did it wrong/incorrectly somehow, then get directed to a podiatrist to fix it for real this time.

That podiatrist was the nicest doctor in the world. When the nurse brought out the tray with the tools right before they were going to start my eyeballs took one look at the instruments and just WEPT without my say-so. It didn't even feel like crying. It just felt like water coming out of my eyeballs without my consent. They were so understanding about it. 😭 I felt like I was being a big fat wuss, or a crybaby. But I was scared. "Sorry. I'm good. It just really hurt last time." And they'd heard the story so they knew so I was gonna trust them to NOT do that they reassured both my mom and I they'd make sure it didn't hurt.

Then he injected the local anesthesia to numb my toe and get to work. All I felt was him vaguely pushing my toe around for a better angle and a little bit of pressure and then bam. It was over and done. 0 pain whatsoever. It was fuckin INCREDIBLE. 20/10 experience.

IDK why that first guy kept going when the patient was clearly in so much pain or distressed he had to be held down. I was like 14. >:( But it makes for a good story to tell.

& that's my traumatic scar horror story of the smallest scar I have. :D

THATS INSANE. SOME DOCTORS ARE SO DUMB AND SHOULD NOT BE PRACTISING. also yeah i know abt this procedure bc .. i obsessively watch videos w it.. dont even. dont even say anything. i know. i know.

im soooo sorry u went thru that shit thats so bad. but im glad it got fixed later.

#i had smth cut out of my foot when i was younger that idk the name of in english but i can confirm the local anaesthesia part #it rly does numb the area #but the needle was fucking huge my mom said she was waiting for it to just go thru my entire toe and come out the other side lmfao #anyway i also didnt make a sound bc i was afraid of inconveniencing the doctor #i do that w every doctor ever #im a horrible patient #they tell me 'hey let me know if it hurts' and im like ok :D and then stay silent. so silent.#im just so afraid of being a nuisance #ANYWAY #asks #scar stories and gore stories

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declanowo · 1 year

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31 Days of Horror - Day 12 - Martyrs

12/10/23

I begin most mornings at the moment by spinning the wheel to see which film I will watch - I like to know when I should start the film, for example, if I land on a three hour long movie, I won’t start it at midnight. Today when I first landed on Martyrs, I respun the wheel. After everything I had heard about this film, I felt that it wasn’t the best day to watch it, as before I had a family dinner out which I knew would leave me exhausted, therefore, something easier and lighter would be far nicer.

After landing on another film I wanted to watch, Blood Rage, which was exactly the type of movie I was hoping for, I thought about the free time I had today as a result of looking after my friend's cat, who is bound to my bedroom, and therefore, I am too. After sitting on it for a while, I decided to watch both! And I am glad I did :)

Martyrs is a French film directed by Pascal Laugier. The plot is ever changing as it unfolds, and has been hailed as one of the scariest horror movies ever. I see that perspective, although it feels like a weird and impossible thing to award a film. I believe I have also seen Sinister called the scariest movie ever during a long survey, which I bring up because of how different these films are! I’m curious whether people find Sinister scary solely for the jumpscares, which are amazing, or also the plot too? I think it is primarily the jumpscares, which mirrors Martyrs, which I think people find so scary because of how visceral and gross the gore is. It paired nicely with Blood Rage, which has super fun and bloody kills, whereas this film has very bloody and disgusting kills. I find the way a film can frame kills super interesting, based on how the effects are done, how long it lingers etc… Usually, slashers have creative deaths where you don’t linger on the action, they aren’t drawn out or too gross to imagine, but they’re fun to watch, and can still make you wince. There is not a single death in Martyrs that is fun.

I want to start by discussing the way the films acts work - they are incredibly divisive amongst the reviews I have read, and weirdly enough that is the most common criticism, as opposed to the fiendish gore that Saw is often criticised for! Anyway, the film's acts feel unpredictable as far as where the story goes, but I would argue the film never loses its tone, nor its purpose! The first act is a home invasion style film, where we follow a family that appears sweet and innocent as their house is broken into, and they are subsequently killed. For starters, this is such a fun juxtaposition to the grim cold open, showing our protagonist as a child, escaping from the abusive group we learn more about later in the movie. We go from that gritty exposition, to a timeskip which shows us a happy family, to a sudden series of murders. Watching the parents die, you begin to understand their innocence may not be whole, yet as we watch Lucie kill the families two children, the sequence is long, uncomfortable and deeply dark, yet unlike a film such as Cannibal Holocaust, which I will say I haven’t seen, this doesn’t feel like gore for gores sake. It was born in the New Extremity era of filmmaking, which was especially popular in France, and that shines through. My bottom line is that the gore doesn’t feel unnecessary here, it’s uncomfortable, but it is purposeful.

Quickly, I will mention that while many people liken this film to being a part of the New Extremity Wave of films, it lacks many key features of these films. The most glaring, is the absence of any sexual violence or messaging, the former I was relieved to find out, and only watched the film after researching if there was any. Ultimately, the film does retain some features from this wave, such as having a female lead, as well as centering around women as a whole, alongside the theme of spectatorship. Okay so after writing all this, I read an article that says the director in fact denounces the likening of the film to the wave of filmmaking, but I will leave it in as a result of the constant comparisons. He instead discussed this film being about a world that rotted a long time ago, which I think is a perfect explanation of the film.

Returning to the first act, we also are introduced to our protagonist, Anna, played by Morjana Alaoui. Both our leads (for this act) are excellent, showing a contrasting conflict as they deal with revenge, and who they want to be. Their relationship is also deeply interesting to me, given how little we see of it. As of yet, I haven’t been able to decide whether they are friends or lovers, Lucie is dismissive of their kiss early on, while a later phone call from Anna’s mother indicates that they are together. Either Way, I think they work well off of eachother, and have very interesting differing views.

My final thoughts on this act are left with the visions Lucie has, which are grotesque and excellent, some real fun imagery of the corpse that follows her around, attempting to kill her, and I didn’t find Anna’s dismissal of this lifelong plague Lucie has had to live with to be too bad, although thinking about it more kind of bugs me - like why not just believe she is seeing this?!

In the second act, we follow the two as they inhabit the house over night, and as Lucie deals with the vision returning. I really enjoy this section of the film, just watching them live while disputing what is best to do. Sure, it feels somewhat strange as to how lax they are about not leaving the house, but I don’t mind too much! The attempted clean up and realisation that the matriarch of the family is still alive is terrifying, as she sees a glimmer of hope, before Lucie snuffs out her life. Truly, it is dark, and the film offers no more signs of hope for anyone, as Lucie wrestles with her demon, until eventually, we watch her slit her own throat.

Despite how dark this film is, I never felt bad while watching it, which a film like Human Centipede did make me feel. Once again, intent is the key point for me! Martyrs is exposing you to a dark and twisted world, and while we don’t yet understand quite what the meaning of all this is, it does have one. In contrast, The Human Centipede seeks only to shock you, it is designed to make you feel uncomfortable, and nothing more, which isn’t my kind of film at all!

The third act follows the reveal of the torturous group, but not before one of the most spine curdling sequences! Inside the house, we find a basement, where a person is being kept. Their body is withered, but the more frightening aspect is that she has a metal clasp nailed into her eyes. Gross. After this, the group’s goal is revealed, their scale is vast and all the more terrifying! Having the film open up more works nicely in its favour, the horror is amplified when we understand that they are attempting to create a Martyr, a person who can see beyond death through torture. Knowing that they started over fifteen years ago, makes this even more chilling as we are left imagining how many people have been placed into this system.

For me, the three act structure works perfectly, each one offers us something new and different, yet they all flow together perfectly. I think of it similarly to 28 Days Later, where we switch locations and tones three distinct times, which aids in the character's development, and the scale of the scenario.

Before moving onto a more general overview, I want to mention the ending, which delivers on everything I had hoped it would. The montage of Anna growing stronger, repeating the words of Lucie in her head is deeply moving and powerful; the eventual conclusion to the film is hideously dark, and I love it.

Martyrs is a weird film, it’s one that isn’t created to make you happy or fulfil you - some of the time I was clueless as to what I was being told, yet it was sharing something, and I like it for that.

After watching the film I went to my family dinner, the tables surrounding us were filled to the brim with old people! All I could think about while I was there was the ending to the movie, as all the elderly people await their martyr that will never deliver her vision. I already know this one will latch onto me, in the short time since watching it, I can already feel its effects shiver down my spine.

7/10

#halloween #horror #horror movies #creative writing #literature #reviews #review #martyrs #2000s

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introspectivememories · 2 years

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jason grace absolutely sword fought krios as the legion and the monsters fought around them and when the final blow comes jason's eyes are alight with a storm and lightning comes down picking off monsters one by one and finally jason flies into the air, recites his titles because demigods are nothing if not dramatic (i am jason grace, son of jupiter and prateor to the twelfth legion. prepare to die), by now the monsters and the legion have stopped to watch the battle and jason shoves his sword neatly between krios ribs, grabs a hold of his neck and rips it out, there is ichor staining his mouth, dripping off his chin and in between, jason grace, son of lupa and champion of juno hears their voices, go for the kill my son/champion, and he grabs krios by the hair and pulls until he rips krios's head clean off his shoulders. ichor splatters all over him. he catches his sword as it falls as krios' body turns into gold dust. and try as he may to distance himself from his father, jupiter is still a titan-slayer and all gods have bloodlust in them, the bloodlust fully sets in and jason licks the blood off his sword, points his sword down to the army of monsters and shouts over the din of the storm he is calling down, "who's next?"

#jason grace: i slew the titan krios with my bare hands #me frantically writing down notes: with your bare hands you say?#when i first read that line i knew it had to be incredibly bloody #anyway camp jupiter cant look him in the eye for the next month #truly and icon #jason grace #hoo #pjo #book.rambles

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ruby-red-inky-blue · 2 years

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rewatching Pride and Prejudice (2005) and I -

i really do love this movie so much it’s stupid

as an adaptation i don’t think it holds up as well as i thought, specifically because Darcy isn’t unlikeable enough at the beginning. At the first ball he looks like a stressed-out puppy who has lost sight of his human and Lizzie is frankly cruel for judging him so harshly, the man is clearly drowning

like the point of darcy isn’t supposed to be that he was never really a jerk but that he was a complete jerk but *changed*

do i care though? no. MacFadyen’s Darcy is a hot mess and it’s a delight to watch

hand flex

Bingley and Mr Collins are possibly even funnier than i remembered (”No I mean it’s a pleasure that she’s here.......” Bingley don’t do it don’t do it dear god - “...being ill...” Oh god Bingley why) but there are some gems that I didn’t even catch before:

the proposal scene. my god. Collins just hands her the tiniest flower. Elizabeth is sat right in front of a ginormous ham the whole time. Neither one is looking at each other. it’s so funny.

I’m not even halfway through and Lizzie thinks Darcy is so hot. I feel like that didn’t happen this early on in the book and it’s honestly so funny because I cannot believe that she hates him because a) aforementioned kicked puppy look and b) she just. She just thinks he’s so hot. Nobody’s buying it Lizzie.

also Darcy’s look of raw unbridled terror at the sight of Lizzie keeps getting funnier. Emma gave the nosebleed to the wrong Austen character, 2005-Darcy just getting a straight-up anime nosebleed at the sight of Elizabeth at Rosings and everyone freaking out over the blood on Lady Catherine’s expensive carpets?? Honestly I wouldn’t even have batted an eye at it, he is so into her and would burst a blood vessel out of sheer distress.

the odd little pre-proposal scene where he bursts in at the Collin’s and runs back out a minute later? I’d forgotten, like...

(his little glance. Like the briefest recollection that, ah, yes. Chairs. Anyway - )

(the way he declines a cup of tea so incredibly earnestly with a look of utter bereavement on his face is so funny to me. You’d think he’d come to tell her that her entire family had died.)

the lead up to the proposal is so dramatic, and i think every viewer under the sun knows what is coming, but i would just like to point out that in a different movie this shot reads vaguely like a period horror film:

his entrance is so sinister?? he’s obscuring the shot with that dark coat and towering over the camera and Lizzie - and then cut to the next shot where we’re right back to deplorable puppy, this time of the fell-into-a-pond variety

my god there is no preamble, he just starts ranting. i’ve consumed this scene in gifs only for so long i remembered it as pretty romantic if misguided but this is a trainwreck

see the first couple of lines here are where this is an odd adaptation. He’s so tortured you don’t even really notice that he’s kind of insulting her at first, and Lizzie seems genuinely concerned when she says “I’m sorry to have caused you pain” when in the book that is not the vibe I got, and then it kinda seems like it escalates a little too much

that said, it’s still glorious. I’m watching through my fingers. I can’t bear it.

Elizabeth Bennet, here seen looking at “the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry”

sure, girl.

controversial opinion, but somehow, in a movie with famously grandeous beautiful Jane Austen language, this line is my number two most swoonworthy line of the movie:

same, Lizzie.

the scene where Darcy gives Lizzie the letter is gorgeous. It’s also quite strange? it does somewhat suggest that she knew he would turn up - he literally pops up in the mirror as if she’d said Bloody Mary three times, and she doesn’t seem remotely surprised to see him

also while I assume that was normal back then it does amuse me that he just up and walks into someone else’s house - and what did the servants think? he certainly wasn’t dressed for a visit, and young Miss Bennet certainly wasn’t dressed to receive visitors in any case! Scandalous!

if that letter had been read to Lizzie as it is to the viewer, she wouldn’t harbour that much lingering resentment. 10/10, no notes.

dramatic single tear when she talks about Darcy to Jane *sniff*

“Oh no, let’s not [see Darcy’s estate]. He’s so - he’s so - he’s so - he’s so rich!” oh Lizzie...

Lizzie’s acrid little giggle when they lay eyes on Pemberley SENDS me. It’s both “of course he’d live in there” and just a little bit of “....shit is this what I was offered?” and honestly, i get it

i’m not saying people didn’t have rooms exclusively for their collection of marble statues on a working estate, but it does seem... a bit much. Especially that you would have all of these lovely images of mythology and ancient nobility and then a bust of yourself right slap in the middle?? Like Darcy isn’t the type to comission a bust of himself, but even if we assume that his late father comissioned it (already a bit of a stretch since the bust hardly looks that much younger than Darcy) whose idea was it to put it there, among nymphs and gods? Was it in his father’s room and Darcy looked at it after his father’s passing and just went, it’s a statue isn’t it, just put it with the others?

that said, the woman is done for (they even ASK her if she thinks he’s handsome like they don’t have eyes or something)

Georgiana and Darcy are so cute i can’t -

also Darcy once again first dramatically appears in a mirror - I get it Joe, I get it, it’s a theme, they’re so alike, Lizzie is seeing it now (it’s pretty cool i don’t know why i’m so glib about it)

WHY IS THIS SHOT THO I’m dying this is so dramatic:

“I thought you were in London!” “No. No, I’m not.” What you are is a desaster, Darcy.

The fiddly hands, the talking over each other, the almost yelling every other word, Lizzie is so desperately searching for ANY topic of conversation and he’s so stupidly earnest about her inconsequential traveling plans and god they both look like they’re about to start sobbing this SCENE

“We’re going to Mattlock tomor-” “Tomorrow??!” Stoppp my heart

also the closeup of the hand say what you will but Joe Wright knows his audience

not Lizzie jumping headfirst into a storage room and hiding behind a curtain when she sees Darcy at the inn. i mean i would have done the same probably but still

Georgiana digging poor Darcy’s grave in 30 seconds flat:

immediate flirting of the most desperate degree, and Mrs and Mr Gardiner stood right behind them for the whole thing, visibly wondering what the hell is happening:

also Darcy doing anything to keep Lizzie around longer is so precious. Look at this man. This man does not fish with strangers. This man fishes in solitude. That is clearly why he fishes in the first place. Now he’s inviting some old man to fish with him. Just so she won’t leave.

Behold, a masterpiece:

“This is grave indeed... I will leave you. Goodbye.” WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

god I love Lizzie taking Lydia’s wine glass away and then taking a good long sip herself because it’s all so hard to stand. And then suddenly in the middle of all her insipid chattering Lydia gives a damn fine observation of Darcy (because she isn’t prejudiced... get it) and takes back her wine glass

sidenote but i love how affectionate the Bennets are with one another, it’s so sweet

just this:

Lizzie now hiding behind walls as there are no storage closets or curtains available

Darcy started wearing stripey waistcoats. You know who else wears stripes a lot?

-”I return to town tomorrow.” -”So soon!” oh how the turntables

Bingley and Jane are almost as tragic als Lizzie and Darcy. Jane is so dense where Bingley is concerned. And I would have LOVED to see how Bingley roped Darcy into roleplaying??? his engagement??? He’s playing Jane

Mrs Bennet sloooooowly herding everyone into the kitchen because Jane may get engaged so NOBODY MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENTS HE’S SKITTISH (except Jane obviously. Jane needs to be there. For Jane’s engagement. Naturally.)

meanwhile Lizzie and Darcy mourn the one that got away, apparently separated by a single tree

i love those little shots of everyone at Longbourne at nighttime, it’s so domestic and sweet, with the servant singing to herself and the sisters spending time together

“Perhaps Mr Collins has a cousin” is an underrated line for sure

the whole scene with Lady Catherine is WILD like she arrives in the dead of night, no servants no nothing, impertinent with pretty much everyone in the house, only Dame Judy Dench could pull this off

here it is, the biggest swoon of the entire movie bar none (again, controversial, but they improved on Jane Austen here. I will take no criticism at this time):

“One word from you will silence me on the subject forever.” and she just gazes at him silently! they’re a lot

I really do feel for Darcy, he makes his whole speech and Lizzie just looks at him and takes his hand and says “well then” and “your hands are cold”, like, girl, you’re killing this man

(yes the sunrise forehead lean is peak romance i’m not made of stone!)

Okay so from Mr and Mrs Bennet’s point of view, Lizzie got yelled at by an elderly aristocrat in the middle of the night and when they woke up the next morning this dude that Lizzie has proclaimed to hate for half a year now is asking for her hand in marriage, looking like he literally rolled out of bed and walked into Mr Bennet’s office. And now Lizzie tells Mr Bennet that she loves Darcy while Mrs Bennet watches him pace holes into their front yard. Can’t blame them for being slightly confused tbh

Darcy did not - I cannot stress this enough - Darcy did not go home to change??? He went into Mr Bennet’s home, still half-dressed, in only a shirt and that dirty-ass overcoat, no hat no waistcoat no CRAVAT like a HARLOT he couldn’t wait two minutes, men of his standing wouldn’t have been seen on the street looking like that, this is how you go and ask for your future wife’s hand in marriage?? This man is so horny

and probably terrified she’s gonna change her mind

this scene!!! they’re so cute

the revolving door was unfortunately only invented in the late 1800s, because there would have been a prime opportunity for a dad joke for Mr Bennet otherwise

Lizzie and her father laughing the exact same way is the sweetest, most touching way to end this film (we don’t talk about the weird Sixteen Candles ending okay? Okay.)

i love this movie so much i’m not even mad i had to pay three euros to watch it again, 11/10, a delight

#pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice 2005 #keira knightley #matthew macfadyen #carrie watches #it's been SO LONG i forgot how trash for this movie i am #the last time i saw it was a few years ago dubbed into german with my parents #and i spent most of it having to explain to my parents why this is actually a funny movie because they were (inexplicably) bored

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internetgremlin-writes · 2 years

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Hi!! Im not sure your prompt night is still open or not so feel free to ignore this, but congrats on 1.3k either way!! Could I request Seb Vettel with prompt number 90?? Something fluffy if possible, thank you!! <3

90 - “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?”

oooo go on then. How could I possibly ignore Seb?

This is the last one for tonight because it's getting super late. I have some pre-reading and work to do before I go on placement on Monday so I won't be writing consistently over the bank holiday weekend but will try to chuck out a bunch more during my breaks each day. Every request is getting done i promise <3

love that i've managed to scare you guys into specifying fluff bc you know i will make it sad otherwise. On another note. Seb's smileee

Secret relationships were never easy, you knew that. But it came with the territory, and you were willing to accept it. It made sense, paparazzi just loved to catch drivers on dates and then stir up stories about them seeing multiple people at once until it blew up into a big scandal.

When Sebastian Vettel had asked you out, you were hesitant at first. Dating people in the F1 industry was pretty normal. You were one of the few female engineers, and you'd grown up working in a male-dominated field. You were used to male attention and awkward dates with colleagues. But there are awkward dates with colleagues and then there's been asked out by a four-time world champion and one of your heroes of the sport.

You'd met Seb when he joined Aston Martin, and you'd never been happier to be put on the team managing the green car with a number 5 on it.

Sebastian had a reputation of being a terrible flirt, and you were concerned that as the only female on his team, he'd see you as anything less than your peers. But he didn't. He was interested and respectful, he asked you questions, he wanted your opinion. Several times he stopped one of your co-workers from talking over you when you were mid-point in a meeting.

He'd asked you out over a year ago now, bringing you a coffee because he'd noticed that for the third night in a row you were working until you were the last one in the garage. You were so tired you told him you loved him when he pressed the machine latte into your hand.

It took him a week to coax you into going on a date with him. You liked him, of course, you did. Working with him had given you time to get to know him for more than his reputation. He was sweet and kind, funny - he could make you laugh even on the worst days, so incredibly stubborn, he cared about politics and human rights, he gave a lot of his money away to charities, he was heading an environmental campaign. And he was drop-dead gorgeous in his own understated, scruffy way. But you were terrified of him, of the attention it would thrust on you, of what the media would say if they caught a whiff of it.

He promised you that it would be okay to keep it a secret. He didn't mind, he understood. Of course, he did; he was bloody perfect.

And everything had been going perfectly. You'd moved in with him in Switzerland. It was new and completely different but you adored it there. Seb was a master at avoiding the media, and he knew all the safest spots. Most of the time you didn't even have to think about your relationship. Even when you were working with him, he was very professional, and when the wins started trickling in he was so swamped with the attention that no one questioned his head engineer giving him a hug.

It was in Abu Dhabi that everything changed. Out of nowhere, Aston Martin had managed to pull a car together that Seb had just taken to. It was like he was one with it again, and then he started scoring points. And then podiums. And then wins. It was like his Red Bull days, except a lot more green and a few fewer parties. And now you were standing in the garage in the pit line, your nails bitten completely down to the quick as Seb was in a locked-out battle with Max Verstappen. It was one of those awfully exciting final races, where the world champion needed to win the race to get those last few points.

You screamed yourself hoarse when the nose of your green baby tipped through that chequered flag. The entire garage erupted around you, the energy crackling through the place was untouchable. Seb was dancing on his car, some arms stuck out in an odd flapping dance that was probably mimicking the wings of the logo. You were so proud of him, of both of you, because it had taken so many late nights sat up, you tinkering with parts and him studying tracks to do it.

What you didn't expect was your boss approaching you. The team didn't win the Constructor's championship, but because Seb had won the last race there was still a constructor's trophy that needed collecting. You weren't sure you were hearing properly when you were asked if you'd do the honours.

"On the podium?" You squeaked. Crowds weren't your thing. Seb got wind of what was happening and he'd grabbed your arm and marched you to the podium before you could say anything else.

The ceremony was unreal, it almost felt like an out of body experience. You cried through the German national anthem, and you could tell Seb was too. This had been a long time coming for him and you knew there were no words to describe how badly he wanted it. The weight of the champagne bottle was much heavier than you expected it to be, and shaking it was a challenge, but you managed to get a decent spray. With yourself and Seb from Aston Martin, and Toto, Max and Checo from Red Bull rounding out the podium you found that you'd naturally split into two celebrating groups. You and Seb were spraying each other, his grin devilish and you knew what was coming the second before you felt the cold splash and knew he'd emptied the rest of his bottle directly over your head.

He then took your bottle and shared a very large swig with you. The atmosphere was electric, confetti everywhere and a shower of champagne covering the pair of you. Never in your wildest dreams had you ever thought you'd be able to be celebrating with him on the podium, let alone for his fifth championship crowning.

"If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?"

Your heart was thudding in your ears. The Red Bulls were celebrating right beside you. The entire grid and all their teams were below you, screaming and shouting and cheering for your boyfriend. No, for the love of your life. Cameras were broadcasting you to millions of people, but the only person Seb was looking at was you. There was only one answer you could give him. There was only one answer you wanted to give him.

You grabbed the collar of his race suit and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips onto his. You felt him smile into the kiss as the noise below you erupted once more, wolf whistles now piercing the night air. He kissed you like there wasn't a soul watching, his arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you slightly off the floor as he did. When he pulled away it wasn't far, his forehead pressed against yours.

"I love you,"

He'd said it before, but it felt different now. The five-time world champion loved you.

"I love you too,"

You picked up the remainder of your bottle of champagne and dumped it out over his head, catching him by surprise and pulling an infectious giggle from him as you did so. You stepped back to run away, but Seb caught you before you could even try to get behind the Red Bulls, who were watching the pair of you with mild amusement.

He pulled you back to him, dipping you down like some kind of Disney character as he kissed you once more, one of your legs lifting off the floor as he supported your arched back. It tasted like champagne.

That photo broke the internet.

It was also framed in almost every room of your home.

#1.3k prompt night #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #seb wins 5 championships and i will hear nothing else thank u #cheeky seb fluff #formula one #f1

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yanderes-galore · 3 years

Note

dude.. i loved your concept for the emotional reader and yandere ghostface! could i possibly request something short? like a short fic, yknow?

(after reading it i immediately rushed to ask-)

Alright, sure 😄 Again, Ghostface is not specified so I will keep it general. Sorry for the wait!

Tears

Yandere! Ghostface Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Implied dub con actions, Obsession, One-sided fixation, Stalking, Blood, Threats, Sadism, Unhealthy relationship, Implied murder.

It was every night. Every night was a new way to torment you. All by some masked psycho who loved to see your emotions.

They loved it when you put on a show. Your face morphing into all sorts of expressions. Fear, anguish, anger, sadness, and acceptance once their visit was over.

By the end of it there were always tears. The knife pressed to your skin always reminding you of how helpless you were against them. That mask they wear always being a sign of terror.

Some nights they came to you clean, their black shroud clear of any stain. As if they came to you first before getting their hands dirty.

Other times, more often than not, they came to you dirty and soaked. They showed no care about their current appearance. Your fear only seemed to edge them on.

"You've been good I assume? You haven't made any attempt towards the police yet. That's good... It would be a shame if our fun had to end."

You never knew if your tormentor was a man or woman. They had a good way of hiding their true voice and never removed their mask past their mouth.

They acted like a ghost, watching you from the darkness. If you made any attempt to call for help you'd quickly be silenced. So now you were at a stalemate to put up with whatever they felt like throwing your way.

"I've missed you since our last visit."

They'd coo that line over and over. Despite the fact the last visit tended to be the previous night. They could never stay away long.

Blood from their gloves smears onto your face when they hold you close to their mask. You cringe softly, earning a chuckle from them.

"You look even cuter this way! So vulnerable to me... no wonder I love you."

'Love' wasn't a word you'd call it. You didn't know anything about them except their behavior. Even then it was vague, their 'affection' incredibly one-sided.

Fixation, obsession felt more like it. Their constant visits were not romantic for many reasons. You didn't know them, they were armed, and they were almost always bloodied.

Yet you didn't have the guts to interrupt their little 'fantasy'. Not when their knife pressed against your back in silent warning. Especially not when they lifted their mask ever so softly to kiss your lips.

"I can never get enough of you. Every little whimper, every little scream... I want to have it all. This is why you're mine!"

They were a poison you had no choice but to build a tolerance to. In your position you were better off letting them make you cry. Your family was safer that way.

In this unfortunate reality, everyone but you was happy.

"Unfortunately, I must go. Do wait for me, dear..."

As if to remind you of your lack of choice, their knife gleams beside you. You don't bother moving except to sniffle. A kiss is pressed to your cheeks before they lean towards your ear.

"I'll know if you don't."

#yandere slasher #yandere slashers #yandere ghostface #yandere dead by daylight #yandere scream

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guardianofrivendell · 4 years

Text

A Royal Tease

Thorin x fem!reader

Requested: kind of - this was a favor to a very special person!

Warnings: NSFW with an E rating, so please only read if you’re 18+!

A/N: Wowee... that was a ride! Writing smut is definitely NOT the same as reading it :) Let me know how I did it and if I should write more smut in the future. I still feel like it jumps from here to there sometimes, but the longer I worked on it, the worse it got so I decided to stop editing and throw it on here 🙈

Before you start reading, another friendly reminder that English is NOT my first language, so if some sentences feel forced or the vocabulary feels too simple or not descriptive enough, that’s why!

Thorin was lying on his back in the sand, eyes closed and panting heavily.

“Another one!” he growled after a few seconds. “Are you sure you can take another one? Married life sure is taking a toll on ya!” Dwalin teased, getting in his starting position again. He rolled his muscles and Thorin could hear his bones crack. Dwalin was enjoying this far too much.

Thorin might be losing his touch, but Mahal be his witness, he would never admit defeat. He couldn’t give Dwalin the satisfaction. So he pushed himself back up while muttering a line of very colourful words, ready to smack that smirk of his best friend’s face.

These late night sparring sessions with Dwalin were a godsend to get rid of the tension and frustration in his body, but that didn’t mean he would let him off the hook so easily.

Wiping the sweat of his brow with the back of his hand, he walked towards the opposite side of the training field. His tunic clung to his body, dripping with sweat so Thorin decided to take it off.

“What in Durin’s name are those?” Dwalin’s voice boomed across the field.

Thorin immediately held his tunic in front of him, as if he had been caught doing something that he shouldn’t. He completely forgot about them.

“S’none of your business,” he muttered.

“As your personal guard it is my bloody business, Thorin,” Dwalin retorted, making his way towards his King.

“Who gave ya those bruises?”

Thorin stared at his best friend and felt his cheeks flush. He could see Dwalin’s thoughts take a turn for the worst, blaming himself for his King’s injuries. But he couldn’t tell him the truth, could he?

“You were not the one who caused them,” Thorin said in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Then who did?” he pressed on.

“Leave it, Dwalin.”

But Dwalin was quicker and snatched the shirt out of his hands so the bruises were visible.

“Thorin…”

Dwalin’s eyes traveled over the King’s bare chest. His pecs, abs and hips were covered in dark purple bruises, each one of them the size of a gold coin. His eyes landed on the waistband of Thorin’s breeches and it looked like the bruises didn’t stop there.

“I’m supposed to protect ya, Thorin. Who mistreated you like this?”

Thorin kept his eyes focused on Dwalin’s, as if he wanted to have a staring match. Dwalin could see the internal battle his King was fighting, before Thorin broke eye contact and turned around to put his tunic back on.

“They’re Y/N’s alright,” he hissed, without looking at him.

Dwalin stood completely shocked for a few seconds, before he balled his fists and almost bristled in anger.

“Dam or not, she can’t treat ya that way, Thorin,” he said through clenched teeth.

Thorin placed his hands on Dwalin’s shoulders to calm him down.

“No, my friend. No, it’s not like that at all… They happened during…” Thorin took a deep breath and lowered his voice in case someone could overhear. “During our lovemaking.”

Dwalin’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes went wide. But he didn’t back off like Thorin had expected. If any, it peaked his interest.

“She hurts ya for… Pleasure?”

Dwalin’s nose scrunched up, like the thought of someone hurting their One for pleasure was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. Which, in his humble opinion, it most certainly was.

“In her world what happens at night is a lot more... interesting, to give it a name. We’ve been missing out, Dwalin. You can trust me on that.”

“But she hurts ya?” he repeated.

Thorin chuckled. “Believe me, it doesn’t hurt one bit. On the contrary...”

They started walking out of the training halls, their sparring session long forgotten.

Thorin knew it might not be appropriate to discuss his love life so openly with his friend, but he was almost certain Y/N wouldn’t mind and he felt relieved he could finally talk to someone about it.

“You don’t know half the things she’s capable of, Dwalin… The way her hands feel when she… Mahal!” Thorin groaned at the memories of your late night activities.

“Easy there, lad,” Dwalin chuckled. “Ya don’t want to ruin those trousers too, aye?”

Thorin shoved him in a playful jest, but the seasoned warrior didn’t even budge. He shook his head, tutting at the poor attempt of his King. “Pathetic.”

While they were walking towards the Royal wing of the mountain, Thorin told his friend about some of the things he learned the last few weeks.

Dwarrows were a bit old fashioned in the bedchambers, or ‘rather prude’ as Y/N had called it, and she helped him discover a different side of himself.

By the time Thorin had told Dwalin about the different positions he definitely should try besides the classic one, they’d reached the heavy double doors of Thorin’s chambers and Dwalin’s cheeks had turned a few shades darker.

Dwalin halted and nodded at the guards posted at each side of the door.

Thorin opened the door and the right corner of his lips twitched. He was still a bit agitated that he couldn’t beat his friend on the grounds but there was always another way to get the upper hand...

“Oh and Dwalin… They use their mouth too.”

“Well I may hope so, it’s hard to kiss without yer lips,” he said, not understanding what Thorin meant.

“Not for kissing, Dwalin. Not only for kissing.”

Thorin closed the door, leaving a speechless and heavily flustered Dwalin in the hallway.

When he turned around with the intention of entering his chambers and relaxing for the night, someone forcefully pressed his back against the door and pulled his face down in a heated kiss.

It only took him a fraction of a second to wrap his arms around his wife and happily return the kiss, not wasting any time with deepening it by swiping her bottom lip with his tongue. He felt her smile against his lips and she broke the kiss.

“Eager, are we?”

“I do recall it was you who couldn’t resist me, ghivashel, you didn’t even let me come in properly,” Thorin chuckled, keeping his arms tightly wrapped around her while he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

In the meantime, her hands started traveling on their own, making their way over his broad shoulders and upper arms, before finally settling on his chest. His tunic was still damp from his earlier activities and left nothing to the imagination. Not that she needed to imagine it, she knew exactly what he was hiding underneath. What was hers…

Y/N smiled. “I can’t greet my husband after a day’s hard work?”

She reached up and caught his lips in another kiss. Thorin hummed softly.

“Aye,” he said, his hands lingering on her back, but he couldn’t resist slowly lowering them towards the delicious curve of her buttocks. He gave them a firm squeeze and pulled her flush against his body.

Y/N could feel someone else greeting her. “Well hello to you both,” she smirked.

Even though she knew Thorin was that kind of dwarf who gets easily aroused - which was incredibly fun during meetings and official visits - he still caught her off guard with how fast his soldier could report for duty.

“We’re at your service, little one,” he said, lowering his voice.

Licking her lips in anticipation, Y/N grabbed the hem of his tunic and lifted it upwards. Thorin raised his arms and helped her get the tunic off his body, carelessly tossing it aside. His breathing growing heavy already with the adrenaline still in his body from the earlier workout.

His trousers and undergarments were next, she tugged at the laces and let the fabric pool around his ankles.

She took a few steps back and took the time to admire the view before her. His silver and black hair screaming at her to get her hands in, so she could tug it just the way he liked it. The dark hair dusted across his broad chest, trailing down towards his V line and circling around his member. The bruises her lips left the night before stood out on his skin, proof of her claim on him. Thorin was absolutely stunning. A work of art.

“Like what you see?” he hummed, his voice still a deep rumble, hitting her right in her core. Mahal, bless that voice!

“Always,” she whispered.

When she turned around and started walking away from him, Thorin grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

“You’re not going to leave me like this, are you,” he growled.

He knew she was capable of it, she’d done it before. There was nothing his wife liked more than teasing him and leaving him hanging for a while. According to her it was fun, she liked getting him all riled up, but for Thorin it was absolute torture. He wasn’t used to not getting things when he wanted them.

“Easy tiger, I was just going to draw you a bath.”

Thorin sighed deeply when he reclined in the tub, the warm water soothing his aching muscles.

“Feels good?” Y/N smiled, getting a washcloth ready.

He nodded and hummed softly, closing his eyes. His nose filled with the scent of the burning wood from the fire and lavender from the bathwater, and combined with the warm temperature of the water it made him finally relax.

She sat down behind the bathtub and took the bottle of oil for his hair. Y/N brought the opened bottle close to her face, smelling the herbal fragrance. She inhaled it deeply, loving the smell because it reminded her of Thorin. Her husband. Her King.

“I’ll start with your hair.”

She poured a little oil on her hands and rubbed them together to spread it evenly. Her fingers purposefully moved around his scalp, working in small circular motions. He moaned when she added just the right amount of pressure to massage the oil in his hair and again when she started delivering gentle strokes around his ears and neck. With a cup she poured hot water over his hair to rinse it. Thorin kept his eyes closed when she was finished, his body completely relaxed and at peace.

Seeing how he turned into mush under her skilled hands, made washing Thorin’s hair something Y/N loved to do. It was not her favorite part… no, that part came up next.

She leaned over and pressed a kiss below his ear, and took the washcloth from the side of the tub. Carefully pouring some oil on it, she kneaded the cloth until it was properly soaked, before she let it glide over his chest.

A smile played around her lips when Thorin groaned as soon as she started massaging his muscles with the cloth, washing away the tension in them.

Her hands let the washcloth glide over the muscles in his arms, shoulders and legs, adding enough pressure to work the knots out, leaving no skin untouched.

Except the part where he needed her touch the most.

Every time she came close, Thorin bit his lip in anticipation but she always changed direction or directed her attention elsewhere. He grew more and more desperate, she noticed. So far so good.

“What were you and Dwalin talking about?” she asked, curious about the subject of their conversation.

Thorin opened his eyes, but couldn’t meet hers.

“Ah… yes. Well, I may have taken off my tunic during our sparring session tonight.”

Oh. So Dwalin got curious, she thought. She abandoned the washcloth, letting it float around the water.

“I bet he had some questions about these?”

Her finger started trailing the contours of the bruises. First in a faster circular motion, but as she got closer to his hips she slowed her pace down and adjusted the pressure to nothing more than a feather-light touch.

Thorin closed his eyes again and let his head fall back against the sloping side of the tub. His breath came quicker and when her eyes wandered down his stomach, she was pleased to notice his member was back at full attention again. When she let her finger linger near the tip, she could hear him hold his breath in anticipation.

“What did you tell him?”

But Thorin didn’t give her an answer, too focused on her movements and ministrations. She was so close, just a little more to the left...

But instead of doing what he wanted her to do - and she knew he was desperate for it, her teasing and lingering touches had made him wild with desire - she changed direction again and traced the inside of his thigh and pelvic bone, purposefully ignoring his hard on.

“Tease!” he groaned, clutching the edge of the tub in frustration.

Y/N raised an eyebrow in question. “A tease? Me?”

She stood up, clutching her chest like she was actually shocked by his accusation.

“I would never,” she smirked, and Thorin loved the way her eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to tell me what you told Dwalin.”

“I merely gave him some advice based on our experiences, ghivashel. I believe master Dwalin will keep his flushed cheeks for the remainder of the week. Serves him right.”

Satisfied with his answer, she turned to grab a towel, dropping it on a nearby chair for him to use later.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Her eyes lingered on his pulsing cock for a few seconds before she winked at him. “Don’t enjoy yourself too much.”

Before she could leave him, he called out to her.

“The least you can do is give me another kiss.”

Y/N smiled and leaned down to peck his nose.

“No, a kiss worthy of a king,” he groaned.

But when she leaned further down to press her lips on his, she missed how his eyes held the same twinkle hers did a few moments ago…

Before she knew it, Thorin had grabbed her by the waist and pulled her on top of him. Their movements made the water splash everywhere and Y/N shrieked when her dress got soaked with the bathwater.

“Oakenshield,” she growled, pushing her off his chest with her hands and settling in his lap.

She enjoyed the lustful clouding of his eyes when she moved just the slightest, giving him the friction he longed for.

“Always trying to get what you want,” she reprimanded him.

“Can you blame me?”

His hands drifted admiringly over her body, following the curves of her bossom and hips.

“Yes!”

He was taking over control and she had to stop it before she gave in. With some difficulty she managed to climb out of the tub and wrung the water out of the dress of her skirt, turning the bathroom floor in a small pond. Seeing as Thorin made no move to get out of his bath or apologize, Y/N decided to take the teasing to a higher level.

Keeping her back to her husband, she slowly unhooked the fastings of her dress and let it drop to the floor with a slap. She heard the sharp intake of Thorin’s breath and the slosh of the water when he sat up.

Oh, that’s right… Did she forget to mention she wasn’t wearing anything underneath? Oops…

He wasted no time in getting out of the bath, not even bothering to take a towel to dry himself. The only thing on his mind was to get to his wife as fast as possible.

She whimpered when their bodies clashed together, the evidence of his arousal poking between her butt cheeks. His lips attacked her neck, and she was almost certain the firm grip of his fingers on her waist would leave bruises the next day. Not that she minded.

He guided them into their bedroom, and when the back of her knees touched the bed frame, her mind cleared and she tutted at him.

“Since when are you in charge, yâsûn?”

He cupped her breasts, softly kneading them and letting his thumbs flick over her nipples. He lowered his head to take one in his mouth, not stopping his caresses on the other one.

Y/N sighed and let her head fall on her shoulder, her hand finding its way in his hair. His damned mouth...

“I don’t hear you complain,” he smirked.

She certainly didn’t complain when he slid one of his thick, calloused fingers between her folds, and Thorin moaned when he felt how slick she already was.

“You’ve been enjoying your teasing,” he accused her. “All this for me?”

She grabbed his length and he hissed at the sudden contact. She stroked a few times to spread the precum, and when her thumb flicked the head it took all his strength not to come all over her hand right that minute.

“I couldn’t stay behind with all this for me...” she smirked.

With a growl he connected their lips again. His wife knew exactly which buttons to press and he both loved and hated it. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed her thighs and squeezed them, urging her to jump up. Y/N did as asked - which surprised Thorin - and locked her ankles behind his back to keep her balance.

Not bothering to clear the furs from the bed, he laid her down on top of them, her hair sprawled out on the pillows.

She bit her lip when she noticed how his eyes had darkened even further, Thorin looked like he could devour her any minute. She didn’t realise how close to the truth she was. Maybe he needed another round of teasing...

Before she could follow through with her plan, Thorin took the lead.

He flipped her on her stomach, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto him, all in one fluent move. It was a position they only did once before but he had already claimed it as his favorite.

Knowing what he wanted, she placed her knees on either side of his hips and let her back rest against his front. The hairs on his chest rubbed deliciously against her soft skin and she had a hard time staying still. The muscles in his thighs and stomach were rock hard, just like her toy in between. Y/N’s hand went up his hair and tugged it harshly when her clit came in contact with his cock.

“Are you ready for me, little one?”

His voice got even lower if that was possible, the words wrapping around her like a silky smooth blanket. If he kept talking like that, it would be over for her before they even began.

“Thorin, please,” she begged.

“I thought you liked teasing?” he chuckled.

She grabbed his member, guiding it to her entrance and lowered herself down in an attempt to shut him up, a desperate moan falling from her lips when their hips connected. Thorin tightened his grip on her. She felt absolutely divine.

“Only when I’m the one doing it,” she gasped, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out.

One of his arms slid around her stomach and settled between her legs, circling her clit with his thumb when he began to thrust upwards.

They soon found a steady rhythm, and Y/N could feel her orgasm building quickly.

No, too soon, she thought and she slowed down the pace, slapping his hand away from her clit.

She leaned forward, keeping her body up with her hands on the furs. The new angle made her feel every inch of him and a loud moan escaped her throat.

This is what she had been craving the entire day.

She raised her hips until only his tip was inside of her and then lowered herself down, agonizingly slow.

“You’re such a good girl for me. Mahal, keep going, do not stop!”

She loved it when he got vocal, and with each curse and praise he murmured, she felt herself getting closer to her release.

Thorin noticed her change in breathing and pitch of her moans and sped up the pace.

This was all feeling too good and with the help of his encouragements she came undone, clutching the furs until her knuckles turned white.

He cursed heavily when she clamped down on him, but did his best to help her ride out her high. He kissed her neck and stilled his movements to give her a break, only resuming them when she nodded that she was okay.

As he began to thrust even harder and faster, Thorin gathered her hair in one hand to keep her in place, his other hand firmly on her waist while he chased his own release. His moans became increasingly louder, less controlled with each thrust and a curse escaped his lips.

“You feel too good, ghivashel, m’not going to last,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

He came with a shout and a cutoff curse but kept thrusting in and out of her until he felt himself soften. When he finally pulled out, he covered her back in kisses.

Y/N laid down on the bed and opened her arms for him to cuddle. Both their bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and it took them a while to catch their breath.

These were the moments when she felt the safest. In his arms, in the after bliss of their lovemaking, listening to the soft and even breathing of her husband. She kissed his head and trailed the muscles of his upper back with her finger, earning her a content sigh from Thorin.

A chuckle escaped her throat and he looked up at her questioningly.

“Now you have something new to tell Dwalin,” she said with a wink.

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata1803 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @myrin1234 @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @sokkasdarling @katethewriter @aredhel-of-gondolin @leethology @elvish-sky @moony-artnstuff @laurfilijames @kirenia15 @moarfandomtrash

#Thorin x reader #Thorin #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin smut #The Hobbit #The Hobbit x reader #The Hobbit smut #Richard Armitage #Richard Armitage x reader #The Hobbit Imagine #The Hobbit Fanfiction #Thorin Imagine

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