#I moved in so many places and i loved most of them

[readwritealldayallnight]

I would love a take on boyfriend Ghost coming home to surprise you, but he finds your bed empty and doesn't realize that you are in his room in his bed. Thanks.

The placebo effect, was what he kept trying to convince you it had to be, no matter how many times you rolled your eyes and told him he was wrong

How else could one explain your insistence that Simon’s bed smelled so much like him, becoming your safe space when he was away on long deployments, when he only ever slept with you in your bed most nights to begin with

Hard to believe it was nearly three years ago now that you’d told your friend since childhood, Johnny, about how your search for a new flat was going miserably. You remember how he’d perked up and recounted with a mischievous glint in his eye about how his Lieutenant was apparently searching for a flat mate at the moment, someone who’d be looking after the place while he was away for work

Unsure about living with a strange man you’d never met before, but trusting Johnny’s judgement (though the way he seemed just a bit too eager about this meeting did kind of throw you off-) you had reluctantly agreed to meet with him and at least give the flat a glance before you simply turned him down

It wasn’t until you were knocking at the door of the address Johnny had written down for you, that you’d realized he’d never even given you the man’s goddamn name, only ever referring to him at Lieutenant or LT

Johnny apparently also failed to mention the absolute SIZE of the guy, his huge frame blocking nearly all of the light from behind him as he had swung the door open and stood in the doorway before you

In a slight panic, thrown off by the massive man before you and the way the butterflies in your stomach suddenly began to flutter at the sight of him, you had greeted him for the first time with a squeaky, unsure voice saying ‘Um, hi, are you the Mr Lieutenant?’ (something he has never let you live down since)

He knew then and there that you would be the one

Not just his flatmate (though what a generous flatmate he was when he offered insisted on moving all your boxes out of your old place and into his that very same day), but the one, something he reluctantly had to give Soap credit for, seeing as he was the one who wouldn’t stop talking his ear off about you

You would be his other half, his better half

And all these years later, the two bedroom flat truly only acted as a one bedroom, considering that from the start Simon was always falling into your bed with you at the end of each night, limbs tangled together under the warmth of a lovers embrace a thousand times more comforting than an actual comforter

Still though, that first time Simon had to be gone for work longer than a few weeks, you found the lingering odor of him clinging to his bedsheets to be one of the few things keeping you sane in his absence, taking to sleeping in his room for the time being, imagining that the pillow you cling to your front was a strong muscular arm instead, littered in scars and tattoos you feel confident you could recognize from touch alone

And when his long awaited flight back home to you landed a few hours earlier than expected, tires touching down in the dark, stillness of late night hour, he decided he’d surprise you and come straight home, rather than calling you to meet him at the base like you’d insisted, not wanting to wake you

Barely able to contain himself, he decided the elevator ride up to the seventh floor would take too long, take away precious seconds that brought him closer to you, and so up the flight of stairs he went, taking them two or three at a time, rushing to see the face etched behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes, to hear the voice that haunted his dreams each night

Quietly as a man his size could, he crept into the flat, snuck his way into your room, expecting to see your sweet, sleeping form cuddled up amongst the blankets and pillows. But his heart dropped when he noticed the bed was still perfectly made, not a thread out of place.

Trying to remain calm, though his mind was instantly swarming with every possible scenario that could have taken place, he knew he saw your shoes and jacket by the door, you couldn’t have gone far… but where were you?

He glanced into the living room, wondering if he missed you sleeping on the couch after a long day, he poked his head into the bathroom, even went so far as to check the small balcony, but finally there was only one door left to open.

And there you were, safe and sound, a tiny ball curled up into the center of his huge bed, clinging to one of his old masks and holding it close to your chest as though it were a security blanket (you’d been sleeping in his bed so much you needed something that still smelled strongly of him, you were getting desperate)

Stripping himself down to only his boxers, he tiptoed towards the side of the bed, his mind finally feeling more at peace than he ever had, gently pulling the sheets back just enough for him to slip in behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you into his muscular chest

Though it should be alarming to suddenly feel a pair of hands roaming over your skin, a body holding you firmly against their own, it’s as though your body knows who it is before your mind does

Any tension you were still holding onto during his absence instantly melts away, your own hands coming to land over top of his, giving a slight squeeze of acknowledgment, not yet willing to fully leave your half asleep state, but needing to touch him, to confirm he really is here

“Hmm,” You hum, voice groggy with sleep and a smile slowly stretching across your lips, snuggling further into his embrace. “You’re home.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing you in, wishing he could bottle up the scent of your shampoo and lotions and perfumes, if only to have something to hold onto while he’s away, understanding now why he found you in this bed rather than your own

“I am.” He whispers into your hair, sensing that you’re already drifting back into dream land, safe in his arms and his bed, knowing he’ll be there when you wake. He feels his chest tighten when he knows that you weren’t talking about the fact that he’s physically home, in the flat, but something more, something much more, because he means the same thing when he tells you, “You’re my home too, love.”

[yourbasicqueerie]

can we hear ur lilia headcanons... as many as possible i am starving

be careful another what you ask lol, these r some of my fave ones:

( i am and will be ignoring her death. try me hoes)

• that woman can cook, she’ll make you a MEAAANNNN pesto alla trapanese and don’t get me started on traditional sicilian dishes. can’t bake for shit tho.

• she sews most of her clothing herself.

• that woman has had some questionable gigs to rank up some cash, some of those being:

- a history teacher who made some questionable comments about vampires and their uselessness in actual fighting ( “you know kids, vampires are absolutely shit heads, you think they are going to be these big scary people but noooo, terrible at hand in hand combat too” . )

-a hand reader at various kid parties. the amount of times she’s had to tell moms that no, she will not know the gender of their child is astounding ( . )

-a jazz singer at some dingy bar ( she got approached by a big time producer once, but refused to do anything with him after he made some off handed comment about her hair)

• talking about hair, she’s very very proud of her curls, she might not be keen on chemical peels as much ( smth jen later got her on) but if you want to talk hair care? she’s your girl

• after she got kicked out of her place, she moved into agatha’s house and took over the couch. though she will never say it, the couch is the most comfortable thing she has ever slept on ( maybe even the MAAASSIVE bed she must have had in her young days)

• talking about her young days, even though she was not from a royal family, YOU CANNOT TELL ME she wasn’t somehow related to the médici family, i mean LOOK AT HER!!!

• she owns a small artemisia gentilieschi portrait of herself she requested while at florence.

• her favorite colour, contrary to popular opinion, is not yellow, but orange

• she sings in the shower, beautifully and loudly so. ( can’t exaggerate the loud part, you can hear her from the whole house, the coven does not complain tho, they acc quite like the everything shower days, it means they get at least 40 minutes of lilia’s singing)

• when drunk, lilia is so chatty and touchy, agatha is not keen on it, but rio loves it, their karaoke duos are astonishing too.

• she laughs the loudest between all of them

• agatha full on laid all her mommy issues in this woman ( now, if that is to say that if she and agatha were to have sex, agatha would call her mommy, or if agatha sees lilia as a motherly figure is up to you)

• the whole of the coven depends on her, if lilia is gone then they all fall apart

• she is a sucker for an aldi, would spend hours grocery shopping if she could.

• wine enthusiast lilia calderu

• polyglot lilia calderu

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part9

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: mentioning miscarriage, blood, mentioning drug and alcohol use, daddy issues

Selly's note: First of all I'm sorry. I wrote this while my heart was broken. I learned my ex left the country. He was the first person I loved. LIKE COME BACK???? We HAVE TO marry!!!!! Sorry for oversharing💗, and if there is a mistake. I didn't re-read this. Love y'all.💗💗

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Your hands trembled. Your whole body felt numb, yet the shaking tethered you to reality. There was a heavy weight on your chest, as though even breathing had become an uphill battle. A knot in your throat tightened with every passing second, making even the simple act of swallowing painful. You didn’t know what to do. The chaos of the moment was tearing your mind into pieces, your thoughts tangling into a knot so thick you couldn’t unravel it. 

You hadn’t done anything unusual. The day had started like any other. You made yourself some herbal tea, watched TV, read a book about baby development. You cleaned the house a little, then opened the packages that had arrived—items for your daughter’s room. 

Alone. 

Since the moment you arrived in this town, you’d always felt alone, but this was different. This was like falling into a deep, endless chasm, where there was nothing to grasp, no hand to reach for. You could feel your hands flailing in the void, desperately searching, yet finding nothing. 

The warm, sticky sensation spreading down your legs sent a jolt of panic through you. Your eyes flicked downward involuntarily, but you didn’t want to look. Yet it felt as if everything around you was betraying you, even the streetlamp outside, which cast its harsh glow on the spreading pool on the floor. You didn’t want to see it. You feared that seeing it would confirm your worst fears. Your eyes filled with tears, but you couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Would tears ease the crushing weight of this fear? You doubted it. 

You reached for your phone, but even your fingers trembled. Touching the screen, dialing a number, selecting a name—it all felt like an impossible task. The chaos in your mind blurred your thoughts. Everything was moving too fast and too slow all at once. Seconds stretched into eternities, yet time pressed on, dragging you deeper into helplessness. 

You hadn’t wanted this. You had left the island just for this pregnancy, determined to build a life here. And now, was it all going to be taken from you? After all the effort to adjust, after everything? 

You glanced around. The silence of the room pressed down on you like a weight. It felt as if the entire world had pulled away, leaving you stranded. You knew there were people—so many people—but none of them were close, not really. Placing your hands on your belly, you clung to the small hope that the motion could somehow quiet the storm of fear inside you. But it didn’t work. 

The voices of fear echoed in your mind: What if I’m too late? What if it’s over? What if this loneliness never ends? Each scenario was scarier than the last. You closed your eyes, but even the darkness offered no solace. The images in your head only fanned the flames of your terror. 

When you finally held the phone in your hand, you knew you had to choose someone to call. Should it be your mom? Or your dad? Maybe… someone else? But what if they couldn’t come? That thought pushed you deeper into despair. It suddenly felt as if the entire world had turned its back on you, as if every person was out of reach. The weight of isolation was crushing. 

Your hands were cold and clammy. As your fingers hovered over the screen, trying to pick a name, you felt frozen. You couldn’t move them. It was as though your brain had redirected all its attention to the fluid trickling down your legs and the stabbing pain in your abdomen. Panic consumed you, leaving you paralyzed and unsure of what to do. 

A quiet voice in your mind whispered, Everything will be okay. But it was impossible to believe. That voice was so faint, so far away, drowned out by the louder, darker thoughts. Reality felt so distant that even hope seemed like a luxury you couldn’t afford. While your mind scrambled for answers, your body refused to move. 

You tightened your grip on your belly, as though holding on harder could anchor you to something, anything. Alone in that dark, silent room, you had never felt smaller. The outside world was shut off from you, leaving only your fears, your thoughts, and the suffocating weight of solitude. 

Since moving to this town, you’d thought a lot about loneliness. But now, you truly understood its meaning. Loneliness wasn’t just sitting in silence. It wasn’t merely being by yourself. Loneliness was not having anyone to reach when you needed them most. It was feeling as though your voice couldn’t reach anyone, as though you were invisible. 

The trembling didn’t stop. Your eyes darted around, trying to focus on something, anything, but everything was blurry—not because you couldn’t see, but because you couldn’t concentrate. Nothing made sense in that moment. 

You searched for a way out. But maybe the only thing you could do was wait. That thought terrified you even more. Waiting... it made you feel so helpless, so powerless. But what else could you do? 

Tears welled up again as you struggled to breathe. But each breath felt heavier, each inhale pulling the loneliness deeper into your chest. That loneliness, like a black hole, seemed ready to devour you. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the pool of liquid spreading on the floor. You couldn’t face it. If you didn’t look, maybe it would stay a bad dream. Maybe this was just paranoia playing tricks on your mind. 

Even though you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your legs, you clung to the hope that you’d wake up. That you’d open your eyes in bed and thank God it was just a nightmare. 

You wanted to wake up. You didn’t want to believe this was real. Not after everything you had done to adjust to this new life. Not after leaving the island to start fresh. 

You had left everything behind. Everyone. 

For a life with your baby. 

You had wanted this baby. Even with your initial doubts, you had wanted it. And for what? To have it taken from you? 

Your eyes shut tight as your hand clenched the phone and your other hand pressed harder against your belly. You wished the pain would stop, that the ache—so reminiscent of a menstrual cramp—would just go away. 

Only days ago, you’d noticed your belly start to show, a tiny swell that made you smile. You had cradled it with your hands, talked to it, even though you didn’t care if it could hear. You wanted it to know you were there. Just a few days ago, you’d been excited about buying clothes for it. 

For this? 

For it to be taken away? 

When you finally opened your eyes, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock. You wanted to block it out. You wanted the sensation in your legs to disappear. For a moment, you convinced yourself it was all in your head. But the warm trickle that followed was a harsh slap of reality. 

Your trembling eyes drifted downward. The sight of the blood pooled on the floor knocked the breath out of you. Your heart skipped, as if an elephant had perched on your chest. Your legs gave way. Falling to the floor hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest. 

You had never seen them. They’d only been with you for five months, but the thought of that bond breaking—of losing them—felt like your heart was being ripped out. 

When you love something so deeply, does it always have to be taken away? Is that just the way life works? Had everything led to this moment? 

Had you fought with your family, with Rafe, for this? Had you left your entire life behind, moved to this town, just to lose your baby? 

Even your family had started to share your joy. They were thrilled for you, as ecstatic as you were. And now, for what? For this? 

Were you supposed to mourn?

To learn a lesson, did you really have to fall this hard? You hated it. You didn’t want to learn any more lessons. Not if they hurt this much. If growth meant falling like this, you were ready to stay exactly the same—stagnant, unchanging, and safe. 

The moment you felt a fragment of clarity, just enough to push panic aside, you called 911. You couldn’t afford to lose more time. It felt like your mind had snapped back into place, even if only temporarily. 

But you had no idea what you were saying. Your words felt foreign, disjointed, even as you tried to describe what was happening. They assured you they’d come to your home. They told you not to hang up.

Then you realized—you needed to call your family. You needed them with you. Right now, you just wanted to be back in Outer Banks, in your own house, surrounded by the people who had always been there for you. 

If you were there, you wouldn’t feel this crushing loneliness. They would be by your side. 

You didn’t even know how many times you tried. Your fingers repeatedly dialed your mom’s number, then your dad’s, over and over again. Each time, you were met with the same recorded message: unreachable. 

Still, you kept calling, clinging to that faint hope that someone, anyone, would answer. But each attempt ended the same way, the monotone voice echoing the same result. 

And then, without thinking, your fingers moved on their own. They dialed his number. In that moment, you didn’t care about shame or pride. All that mattered was that you needed help. You needed Rafe. Even if the chance was slim, even if it was just a sliver of hope, you needed him to answer. 

As the phone rang, your heart pounded so violently it felt like it would burst out of your chest. Each ring amplified the fragile hope blooming inside you. Your lips moved as if uttering a prayer: “Please pick up.” You needed someone—anyone—to be there, to tell you that everything was going to be okay. Tears streamed down your face as the call rang on, unanswered.

He wouldn’t ignore you, you told yourself. He wouldn’t turn you away. He’d come. You knew he would. He had to. You prayed he wasn’t still angry, that he didn’t hate you for not terminating the pregnancy. 

When the call ended without an answer, you didn’t stop. Your trembling hands hit redial without hesitation. Shame and pride were irrelevant now. You needed him. If he wouldn’t come, you needed him to reach your family. You were utterly alone otherwise. 

Alone. The word echoed like a hollow drumbeat in your chest. 

For a moment, time seemed to stop. The racing of your heart, the chaotic swirl of your thoughts, even your tears—all stilled in the suffocating silence of your own helplessness. But you didn’t give up. You called again. And again. Your trembling fingers barely functioned, struggling to tap the screen. But you kept trying.

Fuck pride. You needed help. You needed someone by your side, someone to hold you, someone to tell you it wasn’t the end. Your lips quivered as you let out a stifled sob. “Please…” When the call went to voicemail yet again, your shoulders shook with the weight of another unanswered prayer. 

Wasn’t this his baby too? Didn’t it matter to him? You hadn’t made this baby alone. Surely he would care. You didn’t need him to grieve with you. You just needed him here. And he would come. Rafe was a lot of things, but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t leave you stranded. 

Not you. 

You had to believe that. You clung to that hope like a lifeline, begging for it to still be true. 

Another sob tore through you, reverberating through the empty room. This time, it came from somewhere so deep inside that it left your chest heavy, crushed under the weight of despair. You prayed he’d answer.

You weren’t strong enough to endure this. 

You didn’t want to do this alone. You fought to steady your trembling lips, desperate to string together the words you’d need to say if he picked up—when he picked up. But once again, the line went dead.

This time, it felt like a door slamming in your face. But it wasn’t just rejection—it was the crumbling of a trust you hadn’t even realized you still held onto. Deep down, you had truly believed he would answer. That he’d help you. That he wouldn’t leave you to face this on your own. 

As the silence deepened, your hands fell to the cold floor, sticky with blood. You didn’t even care. You felt like everything you wanted, everything you’d dreamed of, was slipping through your fingers. Did you not deserve happiness? Had you done something so wrong to deserve this? 

You wanted to scream. To set the house on fire, to rip apart the tiny baby clothes you’d just bought. 

You nearly buried your face in your hands, but the sight of blood on your fingers stopped you. Frantically, you wiped them on your nightgown, trying to erase it. You wanted it gone—needed it gone. You wanted to forget everything that had happened today. 

The phone was still in your hand, your fingers gripping it like it held a flicker of hope. Rafe hadn’t answered. Your family hadn’t answered. Their silence only pushed you deeper into yourself. Your tears began to dry, replaced by a hollow ache gnawing at your insides. 

After your final attempt, you let the screen go dark. The reflection of your tear-streaked face stared back at you from the blackened screen, ghostly and unfamiliar. Your lips still trembled with silent cries, your voice barely audible even to yourself. 

Then, the phone buzzed. The unexpected vibration made you flinch. The screen lit up, and your heart stuttered before racing into overdrive. A message. 

When you saw the name, a fraction of the emptiness lifted. JJ. His name sat there like it belonged, as if the chaos hadn’t touched it. You opened the message, holding your breath. 

How’s it going with your new street animal buddies? Found yourself a soulmate yet?

It was stupid. Ridiculous. But somehow, in all its absurdity, that sarcastic tone cracked something open inside you. A tiny window of light broke through the storm. 

And yet, the relief was fleeting. Looking at the message, then back at the blood pooling on the floor, your emotions surged in a tangle of anger, helplessness, and unrelenting fear. 

You needed him. Right now. Without thinking, your trembling fingers scrolled back to his name.

The name on the screen made your eyes well up. JJ. So ordinary, so simple. Yet, at that moment, it felt like your only tether to life. He’d come. He would, wouldn’t he? 

With trembling hands, you pressed the call button. As you held the phone to your ear, the silence was broken only by the erratic pounding of your heart. Each ring sent a jolt of panic through you—what if he didn’t answer? “Please…” you whispered, barely audible. “Please pick up…”

It felt like you were losing your mind. Was this real? Had he really sent that message? 

“Hey, Princess. I noticed we’ve upped the calls lately. Can’t manage without me, huh—”

The distant sound of sirens reached your ears, and your lips quivered. Even JJ’s voice, with its usual cocky tone, felt like an anchor. Just hearing him talk, hearing that familiar teasing edge—it was everything. It made you feel as if you’d already done all you could. 

“I need you here.” 

The words came out shakily, and there was a pause on the other end of the line. One hand rested in your lap, the other gripping the phone, both stained with blood. 

To be honest, you were terrified. Not just about what might happen but about losing the baby. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice had lost its playful tone, replaced with a sharp seriousness. He was waiting for an answer, but you felt too drained, too scared, to put your fears into words. Saying the possibility of a miscarriage out loud felt impossible. 

How did he always know? How could he tell when you needed him the most? Was he like this with everyone, or just you? 

When he said your name, you tried to take a deep breath, but it came out broken and shallow. The sirens were getting closer. “I’m bleeding.” The weight of the words nearly crushed you as they left your lips, leaving you lightheaded—not from pain, but from the sheer gravity of it. 

You were so used to him being there. The idea of him leaving, of him not being there, was unbearable. “I called everyone, but—”

“I’m on the way. Did you call 911? Listen, I’ll be there, okay? Don’t worry. I’ll get there as fast as I can. You’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Okay? I need you to say something.” His words were quick, determined, unwavering. 

You nodded instinctively, even though you knew he couldn’t see it. Even if this was your fate, you didn’t want to accept it. 

“I’m scared.” A sob escaped your lips as the sirens grew louder. They were on your street. 

“I’m coming. Everything’s going to be okay.”

—

Last night was ordinary. A night that fell short of expectations—not that Rafe knew what he was expecting anymore. He had become a ghost of himself, far from anything resembling pride. 

Had he ever been proud of himself, really? 

He couldn’t focus on the future or the present; he was stuck in the past. 

His eyes had searched for you everywhere. There wasn’t a corner of the Outer Banks he hadn’t roamed. The beach, parties, the country club—he’d scoured them all, just to catch a glimpse of you. 

He even shopped at the grocery store near your house, the one far from his own. Almost every day, he’d find himself there, grabbing a drink, some crackers, whatever he could justify, just to linger for a chance to see you. 

He missed your presence. Your scent. 

He missed the moments in bed with you—not the sex, but the times he held you in his arms, kissed you, and just existed in your warmth. He missed looking into your eyes, the overwhelming urge to tell you he loved you. 

But Rafe was a coward. He couldn’t admit that to anyone, not even himself. And you? You already knew. You didn’t need to hear it from anyone. 

He hadn’t told his father. He hadn’t told anyone—Topper, Kelce, Sarah, even Wheezie. Not that anyone else could really understand. 

You were the only one who truly knew him. And he’d lost you. Because he was a coward. 

He missed the sound of your voice. If he could go back, he’d want you to talk more in those old videos. He’d spend hours talking to you if he had the chance again. 

He couldn’t adjust to your absence. 

When he threw himself into alcohol, he didn’t think much about it. When had he ever truly sat down and thought anything through? All he knew was how to make impulsive decisions that wrecked his life. 

He couldn’t stand Topper and Kelce’s phases of chasing random girls, calling them over, laughing at nothing. Rafe’s mind, body, and soul belonged to you. He couldn’t bring himself to touch or even look at anyone else. 

Every time he closed his eyes, every time he tried to sleep, the only image in his head was your face. 

He hadn’t touched another woman. Not that he tried. He knew he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t be you. 

There was a time when he thrived on quick, meaningless flings. He hated attachments—blamed it on his childhood. He figured it was because he didn’t know what it meant to make love. He never let emotions into it. But with you, it was different. 

It was intoxicating—better than anything drugs had ever made him feel. It was addictive. 

He loved whispering “I love you” while he was with you. It made him feel like less of the mess he knew he was. But even then, he hadn’t said it enough—like the idiot he was. 

You had been gone from his life for almost four months, and the void was unbearable. Not even when he’d tried to quit drugs had he craved their presence the way he craved yours. 

It was like he was a teenager nursing his first heartbreak. And yet, somehow, this was the mildest punishment he thought he deserved for his cowardice. 

He’d worked so hard to get Ward’s approval, to finally be seen by his father. Ward was noticing him now, for the first time. He could see Rafe’s potential, and Rafe knew it. For once, it wasn’t Sarah he was looking at—it was him. 

For the first time, Ward saw Rafe accomplishing something for Cameron Development. For the first time, Rafe gave his father the impression that he was capable of more. After years of begging for attention, Rafe was finally getting it. 

But it had cost him you. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his father’s approval. He couldn’t face that rejection again. Ward had finally placed a hand on his shoulder, and Rafe didn’t want to feel that hand pulled away. 

He hadn’t wanted to lose you, either. That was never part of the plan. It just… happened. Too fast. And he’d been too scared. 

Scared of seeing that disappointment in his father’s eyes again. 

Everyone around him noticed his spiraling depression, even Topper and Kelce. Though he never opened up to them, they could tell something was wrong. If they noticed, then everyone else must’ve, too. Not that Rafe cared. Nobody dared bring it up to him anyway. 

Under Topper and Kelce’s relentless pressure, he found himself at a party. Not to have fun. Not to let loose. But to see you. He spent the night searching for you, glancing around like you might walk in at any second. 

He looked for your old friends, the ones he’d seen you with before. He hoped you’d be there, even though he knew it was unlikely. You were pregnant. You probably wouldn’t come. But the possibility, however slim, was enough to drag him there. 

That same possibility kept him shopping near your place, day after day. 

For the chance of you. 

The more he didn’t see you, the more he drank, as if alcohol could drown out the ache. Nothing could fill the emptiness you left behind, but he still clung to his glass, hoping—maybe if he drank enough, he’d hallucinate you. 

He didn’t know how much he drank. It didn’t even feel like a party. Topper and Kelce flirted and joked with girls, but Rafe didn’t bother looking their way. He just drank and searched. 

You were the one who used to go to parties with him. You were his girl. And Rafe? He was yours. It wasn’t an open relationship; he wouldn’t have shared you with anyone. 

You used to pull him onto the dance floor. He’d groan and complain at first, but you always got your way. And once he gave in, he didn’t hate it. Not when he was touching you. He loved every moment he could hold you. 

Even now, he could hear your voice in his head, persuading him to dance. Him pretending to resist. You insisting, until he finally caved. What an idiot he’d been. He should’ve just said yes every time. Done anything you asked. 

His regrets were endless. His self-loathing, boundless. For being such a coward. For being a failure, yet again. 

You had believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. Your faith in him had given him the courage to ask his father for opportunities, small as they were. And with you, he’d felt like he’d succeeded, just a little. 

Now he hated himself for choosing his father’s approval over you—and the baby. 

The thought of you moving on, raising a child without him, was unbearable. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you with your swollen belly, or playing with your child—his child. And the thought of not being there... 

He hated himself for fearing his father more than losing you. For crawling for scraps of his father’s affection like some pathetic creature. 

Which he was. 

And now, for the rest of his life, he would hate this moment—and himself—for choosing so poorly. 

Rafe thought he’d made it home thanks to Topper and Kelce. He vaguely remembered stumbling through the front door and collapsing into Wheezie’s arms. The idea that the tiny girl could hold him up was almost laughable. Somehow, he’d managed to make it to his room.

Wheezie had laid him down on his bed before leaving. You’d have to be an idiot not to notice something was wrong. She knew her brother too well. She hadn’t seen him this quiet, this withdrawn, in a long time.

You were always there with him.

When you were around, Wheezie could hear your laughter coming from Rafe’s room. Even when Rafe was being his usual insufferable self, you made him bearable. She never thought he had that side to him. Frankly, she wasn’t even sure it existed until you came along.

When Rafe opened his eyes the next morning, a sharp, pounding headache greeted him like a cruel companion. The remnants of last night’s party echoed in his skull. Sitting up in bed, hungover and disoriented, fragments of the night before started to drift back into focus—crowds, noise, laughter. The sunlight filtering through the curtains hit him square in the face, intensifying the pain. All he wanted was to throw up and stay in bed for the rest of the day.

He didn’t remember much, just that he went to the party and drank like it was his last night on Earth. Alcohol had been a more reliable friend than Topper or Kelce that night.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to shake off the fog. The smell—his own and the room’s—was rancid, like a stale cocktail of sweat and regret.

He kicked off the covers, intending to get up, when his eyes landed on a single pill and a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. Without thinking, he swallowed the pill and drained the glass.

Stumbling to the window, he threw it open, letting fresh air seep in. He took a quick shower, practically praying for relief from the headache that felt like it was splitting his skull in two. The cold water shocked his system, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to crawl into a dark room and hide there for a week.

Out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his neck and caught a glimpse of his reflection. Dark circles framed his eyes, his face bore the fatigue of a man who hadn’t truly rested in years. The weight pressing down on him wasn’t just from the alcohol; it was everything else. Everything he’d tried to suppress. “You really are a master at screwing things up,” he muttered bitterly at himself.

His gaze drifted around the room—clothes tossed haphazardly on the bed, an empty bottle lying on the floor, a lighter on the nightstand. Even the carpet under his feet made his skin crawl. He needed to pull himself together, maybe eat something, grab a coffee. But first, his phone.

It sat there on the edge of the table, an unspoken threat. Reaching for it, a wave of unease washed over him. He didn’t know who he’d talked to, what he’d said, or worse, what he’d texted. His fingers trembled as he picked it up and unlocked the screen.

Notifications flooded in—group chats, Instagram likes—and then, there they were. Three missed calls.

From you.

His breath hitched. He stared at the screen, the timestamp mocking him. Midnight. One after the other. His thumb hovered over the call log, uncertainty gripping him. Why had you called? 

And why at midnight?

It couldn’t be. Not you. Not after everything. You never made the first move, especially not in the middle of the night. 

For a moment, he considered calling you back. His thumb ghosted over your name. Should he? Maybe. Or maybe not. What if it led to the same arguments—about the baby, about why you didn’t want to stay, about why he let you go? He could still feel the weight of everything left unsaid between you, haunting him like a shadow.

He dropped the phone back onto the table, running his hands through his hair. Deep down, he knew these questions were rhetorical. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you—or the life you might’ve had together.

Rising from the bed, he moved to his closet, grabbing the first shirt he saw. A hollow ache settled in his chest as he debated whether to call. The courage he’d relied on last night felt a thousand miles away.

Just then, the phone buzzed. Another notification. His heart skipped. Was it you? No. Someone else. But the fleeting hope that it might’ve been you twisted something inside him.

Setting the phone down again, he took a deep breath. *Calm down,* he told himself. But calming down was impossible. The unease coiled tighter, mixing guilt and longing into a cocktail of misery.

Without thinking too much, he hit your name and let the call go through. The ringing filled the room, amplifying his heartbeat. What if you were asleep? What if he woke you? He hated the idea of disturbing you.

The line clicked off before you answered. His worry deepened. What if something had happened to you? His fingers hovered, then dialed again, this time with more urgency.

The second call rang longer. Each tone ratcheted up his anxiety. And then, finally, the line connected. 

“Hey,” Your voice was quiet, cautious.

For a moment, Rafe’s words stuck in his throat. He tried to speak, but it felt like someone had stolen his voice. Finally, he managed, “Hey… uh, you called me?”

It sounded weak, tentative. But hearing your voice, even like this, sent a pang straight through him. He missed you more than he could put into words.

A pause. The silence stretched, making him wonder if you were about to hang up. Then you answered, “I was drunk.”

The words hit him like a slap. Drunk? That was it? Just a drunk dial? The thought made his stomach twist. Was it really that meaningless?

“Are you okay?” he asked, this time more firmly, though it took everything not to press harder.

“I’m fine.” But your tone was too quick, too dismissive. He knew you better than that. He could always tell when you were lying. But he didn’t push. Maybe he didn’t want to know the truth.

“Alright,” he said, not knowing what else to say. He wanted to keep you on the line, to hear more, to find some excuse to hold onto this moment.

“Okay,” you said, your voice faltering briefly before you caught yourself. “I have to go.”

And just like that, the call ended. The short beep that followed felt like a final blow, sealing the unbearable silence around him.

Rafe stared at the phone. Drunk. The word echoed in his head. It collided with another thought, one that sent a chill through him. Did she…?

Had you gone through with it? The decision he’d pushed you toward but never truly wanted? He’d convinced himself it was the right thing to do, but now the thought made his chest tighten unbearably.

He slumped back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t know how to feel—relief, regret, or something else entirely. But one thing was clear: he hadn’t stopped loving you. And that realization hit him harder than anything else.

He glanced at the phone one last time. Your name was still there on the screen, a painful reminder of everything he’d lost. 

He thought about texting you but stopped. No words felt right. Maybe silence was all he deserved. After all, what was left to say when you’d already walked away for good?

[livingsurreal]

More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

[hellincarnation]

Hello! This is a message to the anon who has been sending very haphazard, messy and increasingly nonsensical hate. They are pretty ew.

Not sure if cringe anon is the same as this one, but if you are, here’s a quick thingy. Sure, I’ve played with your message, adding humour as a lovely way of mockery to you. But there is a line to be drawn, I’m fine with you making snarky comments. I make snarky comments, but I draw the line when you start insulting whole groups of race. And….insulting us with the most generic types of comments.

Seriously?

That is the most ridiculous pseudo hate ever.

I’ll remind you that the term “asians” include Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, Viet, Malaysian, Singaporean, Filipino, Indonesian, Saudi Arabian, Indian, Bhutanese, Pakistani, Lebanese and so many more groups of people.

You’re gonna have to be the most dumb, blind and ignorant piece of filth if you think all of those groups of people look the same. If you really believe that, you’re bigoted and ill informed.

Also. OF COURSE SOME GROUPS OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE A COMMON ANCESTOR LOOK THE SAME, OH MY GOD THE STUPIDITY!

And if you are part of Asia and you’re gonna whine like “I was just making a joke!” This is not a joke if it hurts people, yes this is a popularised statement but to many people, it is not funny. It is only a joke when EVERYONE is laughing. So shut up about that.

And then here

….that’s just so wrong.

First of all, I’m ethnically Chinese, which means my great grandparents originally came from china. I was not born on the mainland, nor was my parents, nor was my grandparents. And where I am currently living, consumption of dog meat is illegal. Even in China, the amount of dog meat consumption is drastically decreasing.

That is an old, outdated, stereotypical, insulting way to refer to Chinese people. Not only that!

You also might refer to people from Cambodia, India, Indonesia, Ghana, Laos, Vietnam, Nigeria and Switzerland. Unless you’re saying I’m from all of those countries, your statements makes no fucking sense.

I’ll wrap it up, in the end, I may laugh, joke around, make fun of such comments, but I draw the line when it could potentially hurt bigger groups of people.

My blog is a place to talk to my friends, I’ve made many good ones here, Mireya, Zahrawr, Tanaka, Jeah, Riyana, God, Tamanna, Etc

To all of you, I’m very grateful for getting to meet you.

To this Anonymous person: if you come out and say “oh it’s just a joke” or reveal that you are Asian too, shame on you. Out of all people, you should know how bigoted and disgusting those statements are. If you aren’t asian, even worse. You’re a stupid, ignorant and pathetic piece of shit who thinks it’s okay to send these types of messages. You disgust me.

Moving on, I will not tolerate any more of these types of posts, I will be deleting them on sight. I won’t be turning off anon, since there are lovely anons who like to send nice messages. But I will not be posting anymore of these stupid, idiotic and hateful comments, especially that could potentially hurt a large number of people.

Fuck off, leave all these people alone, leave me alone, this is not a joke, it’s not okay to be spout this bullshit so freely.

Update: I’ve blocked anon ;)))

If this turns out to be anyone I’ve tagged, I will be very very disappointed in you.

@jeahreading @tamanna-and-her-struggles @shinchansbitch @im-on-crack-send-help @iamgayforyourmom1510 @mentallyunstablequeen101 @momhwa117 @zeherili-ankhein @your-dazzling-sun @schrodinger-ka-billa @abyssmita @cafffeineconnoisseur @byproduct-of-hades @lotuseaterwhowistlesthedark @mireyaaaaaaaaa @circe-butbetter @mi-stress-of-chaos @lyrebirb @depressed-bi-twerking @hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe @lesbianpoetess @unhinged-as-hell @debacleofdaemons @sunshinerainbowsandlollipops @celesteablack @evry1h8s-me @transienctly-translucent @priimadonnna

[irrelevantwriter]

Empress

Pairing: Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2) x Female Reader/You

Warnings: SFW, Ancient Rome type shit

Word Count: 1345

Summary: Part 1. The Empress of Rome pushes her husband a little too far.

A/N: I...I don't know what to say honestly. I'm just as confused by this red-headed slut as some of you are. But here we are. So let's enjoy shall we? Because life be life-ing and I need a distraction. I obviously took liberties with ancient Rome. Let me live. There is a part two with lots of smut so get ready besties. Feedback is that good shit.💗

*Read Part Two here

*Masterlist

***********************

You hummed softly to yourself, at peace now that you’d dismissed your maidens. You worked in harmony with yourself, the movements almost convincing yourself you were anywhere else other than Palatine Hill. 

Despite your position, you tended to your own bed linens. The Emperor had admonished you many times before, but you failed to care. 

The tasks you so often liked to keep yourself busy with were seen below your station. An insult to the royal position you held. And yet, for you, they reminded you of a simpler time. They reminded you of home. Of being a young girl not yet soured by what lay beyond her village walls. 

The sentiment made your chest tighten. Today was a day that you longed for that life. You missed your family. You missed flying freely. 

You may be the Empress of Rome, but travertine and marble were still molded to be your cage. An inescapable prison. 

Soft footsteps found your ears as you delicately smoothed the freshly washed bedding to your likeness. Scents of jasmine and lavender permeated the air. They were some of your favorite scents. Something only your husband knew. He’d asked not long after you’d married. He’d made it his duty to ensure those scents followed you everywhere. Even in your dreams. 

“Augusta…” 

His voice floated through the doorway, a hint of disappointment in your title. 

A reminder.

You straightened to face him, bowing your head to show respect. 

“Must I keep reminding you of your place?” 

You sensed him moving closer, his ringed hand extending to tilt your chin. Your eyes met his; depthless pools of darkness. Some days you could see streaks of gold in them from the sun’s rays. Those days were your favorites. Other days they were bottomless. Reminding you of a snake pit. Those were your least favorite.

Today was the latter. 

“I have my reasons, Augustus. Forgive me.”

He chuckled, very aware of your reasons for disobeying him time and time again. 

His hand cupped your cheek, the cool metal of his rings making you flinch. You met his eyes at his prompting. His jaw was clenched, the muscle giving away just how displeased he was with you.

“You are lucky you’re so beautiful, my love. A lesser person would have their tongue cut out.”

You knew. Of course you knew. You did it anyway. 

“A lesser person doesn’t have the heart of the Emperor of Rome.”

Geta hissed, and just as quick as a snake lying in wait, he struck. His hand encircled your throat, squeezing just enough. 

You grasped at his wrist, understanding the game he wanted to play. It was why he kept you. 

In public you were the epitome of grace and devotion. Rome adored you. Your husband adored you. You were dutiful. Well-spoken and a sight to behold. You had everyone’s hearts. Geta knew that. And so did you. 

Behind closed doors, you did as you pleased most days. You went against your husband’s orders, though you never put your own life at risk. You were not so foolish to do so. At least not outside the palace. 

The Emperor was well and truly a spoiled brat. You were not. You liked to remind him of that fact often. And with pleasure. He claimed he hated it. But you saw the fire in his eyes. It was that elusive look he’d get only with you. Swirling embers of flames that mixed in his too dark eyes. 

Lust.

“You forget your role, wife,” he spat between clenched teeth, fingers tightening around your neck. 

“I forget nothing, husband. Least of all what my role is,” you retorted, seeing his gaze shift from your eyes to your lips. Stained with berry juice and sweetened with wine. 

He wanted a taste. 

Geta smirked, loosening his hold. But he did not release you. Instead, he brought you closer, fingers now exploring the hollows of your collarbone. In the confines of your chambers you were more exposed than you would be otherwise. He feasted on the sight. 

He dragged his jeweled fingers across your skin, enjoying the goosebumps that arose in their wake. He touched the royal broach at your shoulder. You shivered. 

“I continue to show you grace and you continue to disrespect your emperor. Have I provided you with such a horrid life? Do the pleasures of my empire displease you?”

His eyes narrowed, his fingers shadowing over your bosom. There were traces of coal around his eyes, making him look that much more sinister. 

But not to you. 

His power frightened you, but the man himself did not. He forgot what kind of life his empire made for its people outside the city. You’d seen the worst of what Roman royalty could do. You’d experienced it firsthand. A man dressed in gold was hardly a sight to run away from. Threat or not.

“Have you gone mute?”

He interrupted your musings, seemingly pleased to have rendered you silent. 

You smiled in return, daring to let your own hand touch upon him. He didn’t stop you, though he watched you with careful eyes. You traced his lips, feeling his breath quicken. You may not be afraid of Geta, but he was surely afraid of you. 

“You have taken a jungle cat and chained her to your side, Augustus. Does that not seem cruel?” You whispered, the space between you both getting smaller as you stepped forward. 

“Is it wrong that I long for my own creature comforts? However lowly they are to you. Is it wrong that I wish to roam freely? To love freely?”

“Love freely?” He cut in, scoffing at the notion. “You do not love freely here? Do not love your emperor?”

His words took on a more threatening tone as he twisted your words. He cupped your cheek, keeping you in his grip. 

“You misunderstand me,” you started, leaning into his touch. You turned your head and kissed his palm, feeling him relax. You reached for his other hand, placing it at your hip, a taboo touch, even between husband and wife. “To love freely means to give myself to you. You have taken. I have never given. To have a woman give herself to you is a magic no mortal man could withstand.”

“Enchantress,” he accused, though weakly. 

“No, my love. Empress.” 

You softly kissed his fingertips. Fingers that had never seen a hard day's work. Or blood on a battlefield. Or the blissful task of pleasing a woman. He, like most men, only sought their own. And as a dutiful wife, you provided. But the hunger, that stayed with you. And it burned as hot as the depths of Hades. 

“You speak of sorcery. That’s punishable by death,” he rasped. 

“Are you so afraid that you do not wish to seek what I speak of?”

Geta’s jaw once again clenched, the muscles in his neck straining. He did not like to be patronized. 

“You dare make me out to be a fool?”

“I’m offering you the chance to experience what only few men know. The body is not sorcery, Augustus.”

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for…something. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he jerked his hand away and stepped back. Air filled the once tight space between you both. 

“You infuriate me!” He exclaimed, hands making a mess of his fiery curls. 

“That is not my intention.”

He stepped to you again, breathing hard and heavy. “It would be wise for you to stop speaking out of turn, wife.” 

You did as he commanded, knowing you had stoked the flames too much. 

“Tonight…you are to come to my chambers. I will deal with you accordingly,” he ordered, chest rising and falling with his breaths. His eyes looked upon you, studying your form, almost seeing through your garments.

“Yes, Augustus.” 

“And wife?”

A pause.

You met his gaze.

“I will not show mercy. If the jungle cat wishes to be freed, she must be broken. Understand?”

You nodded. 

He left without another word. 

Part Two

[mbsneur]

Mariona caldentey?

NSFW alphabet

Please x

NSFW ALPHABET 💌

Mariona Caldentey 18+

A = Aftercare (what they‘re like after sex)

mariona will always get you something to eat and run you a warm bath

B= Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner‘s)

mariona's favorite part of her body is her legs she loves how your fingernails dig into them while she fucks you

her favorite body part are your breasts she loves how they move when she presses into you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

she loves that she can just make you cum with her tongue

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

she fingered you under the table at a team dinner and made you cum several times

E = Experience (how experienced are they, do they know what they‘re doing)

she is very experienced but has tried out and learned a lot of new things with you

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary. like i said she loves how your tits move and how your fingernails press into her thighs

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment)

mariona likes to laugh with you and she makes some silly jokes to tease you but if you disobey her she gets very serious

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?, does the carpet match the drapes etc?)

mariona pays a lot of attention to her hair and during sex she has her hair loose when it's time to get down to business she doesn't have time to tie it up

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

she cares about you and often asks you if you like it and if something hurts you and she tries to cling to every piece of your skin

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

when mariona is not at home she will always call you via facetime to see you cum

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

one of her secret kinks is when you tell her that your body and you belong to her just before you cum

she loves to play with your ass

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

somewhere in your apartment but preferably on the couch when she comes home from training

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

mariona is turned on when you start kissing her neck and slide your hands up and down her sides

N = No (something they wouldn‘t do)

mariona will never share you with others she doesn't want to see how others make you cum

O = Oral (preference is giving or receiving)

mariona is a giver through and through but she doesn't mind if you kneel in front of her

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc..)

always fast and rough but she loves to see you break under her because she is so slow

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

most before training or a game or after a game in a storage room in the stadium

R = Risk (are they game to experiment?)

mariona is very risky she will take you anywhere whenever she wants

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for?)

mariona can do a lot of rounds until you can no longer walk at best

T = Toys (do they own toys?)

she has a strap with which she always fucks you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

mariona likes to get down to business quickly especially because you usually have quickies but if you have more time she is a tease

V = Volume (how loud they are)

mariona is not loud just a bit of grunting and humming before she cums

Y = Yearning (how is their sex drive)

very high mariona uses every little minute to fuck you

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

mariona only sleeps when she is sure that you are well

[meelusinee]

HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU ★ R.B X J.P X READER

in which you and regulus escape to james' house after a failed house party (no thanks given to walaburga in this house <3)

pairing: regulus black x james potter x reader word count: 2.4k warnings: drunk reader at the end, but that's it

author's note: i wanted to get a quick one out there just for funsies, so I thought why not these two? thank's so much for the support to everyone who's liked and commented and followed too!!!

It's you, it's you, it's all for you Everything I do I tell you all the time Heaven is a place on earth with you Tell me all the things you wanna do I heard that you like the bad girls Honey, is that true?

HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU | REGULUS BLACK X JAMES POTTER X  READER

James Potter and Regulus Black were complete opposites.

Regulus Black was a prim and proper man. The second heir to the Black family, the most prestigious Pureblood family within the Sacred 28. An excellent seeker with an eye as sharp as a needle, easily able to pick a Snitch out of thin air. Neat and professional, always tailored to perfection no matter when or where you look at him. Quiet and calculated, able to do anything to someone all in the drop of a hat.

James Potter was a messy and muddy man. The only heir to the Potter household, a home full of love and warmth ever since it came together. An excellent Chaser able to throw Quaffles as easy as blinking his eyes. Cocky yet charming, jumbled in a way that was endearing to many no matter when or where you look at him. Loud in a friendly way, able to befriend anything all in the drop of a hat.

Even still, they had their faults.

That fault was always you.

Regulus found himself growing bolder within your presence, his journal full of scattered and obsessive thoughts about anything to do with you. The way your face shines in the sun, or the way it gets even brighter whenever you smile. He often found himself giving you small flower crowns or trinkets, like a worshipper worshiping its deity.

James, however, found himself growing calmer within your presence. His head was full of nothing whenever he was around you, nothing more than static he wished he always had running through his mind whenever he was out in public. He often found himself giving you more affection than anyone could think possible, like a sloth latching onto a tree branch for his nap.

Even though they were opposites, you brought out the best in both of them. And in return, they saw each other in a way they felt almost no one else could. Every kiss to you meant a kiss to Regulus for James. And every thought about you meant a thought about James to Regulus.

Which led them both to where they were right now, both with you in a way that made their hearts soar.

Regulus and you were both sitting in the backyard of the Potter Manor. Nobody else was home right now, but the both of you needed an escape from the party going on at Regulus’ house.

Which led you both here, listening to the car engine running through the streets and closer to you two. The sun was shining down on the backyard field, pollen and small dandelion fluffs running through the air and itching both of your noses.

Your heads turned as you heard the door of the car close, a small whistling tune ringing in your ears as whoever was driving got closer to you.

James. 

You chuckled softly as he dramatically turned around the corner, both of you watching as he ran up to the both of you much like a golden retriever.

“Reggie!” he smiled, leaning down dramatically and kissing his forehead before moving to yours. “Oh how I’ve missed you, my love. And you too, Y/N. I missed you as well, don’t you forget it.” 

“We won’t, Jamie.” you whispered, kissing his lips. “Do you have any beers?”

“If my dad doesn’t count his stash.” James said mischievously, his hand patting your head before he rushed off to get three cans. “I’ll be back!”

You and Regulus both giggled, his body scooting closer to yours as you watched James run off. Regulus’ hands moved to wrap around your waist, his fingers messing with the belt of your sundress. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

“You’re an utter sap.” you giggled, your head resting on his shoulder.

Your lips rested on his cheek as his hands toyed with your belt, the both of you watching as James ran back out of the house with three beers and three swimsuits. 

“What on Earth is he doing?” Regulus asked incredulously, a small smile on his face.

“We should go to the pool!” he said, running up to you both out of breath. “We could go swimming, or we could maybe play a game. What do you say?”

You and Regulus turned to each other before giggling at James’ ridiculousness, the two of you getting up to walk to the pool.

The sun was shining down on the pool as Regulus and James sank into the water, James’  arms wrapping around Regulus to help him swim.

“It’s not that bad, baby.” he whispered, chuckling softly. “You can still stand even in the deep end!”

“It’s water!” he hissed slightly, the water freezing against his skin. “I could drown. Do you want me dead, James? Drowned and buried?” 

“You’re not going to drown.” James chuckled, his thumbs caressing his waist. “I’ve got you.”

Regulus was about to complain again before his eyes darted over to the entrance of the pool, his eyes widening slightly as he watched you walking towards the pool.

You still had your sundress on, a small tray of fruit in your hands as you put it at the edge of the pool. “Are you two having fun?”

“Massive fun.” James chuckled, placing a kiss on Regulus’ cheek. “Right?”

Regulus nodded, his hand rapidly slapping James’ back as you moved to take your dress off. Your fingers moved to untie the belt holding it up, the zip falling down as it fell off your body. Your hands grabbed your swimsuit as you put it on, a pattern similar to your sundress.

Regulus and James were both staring at you, eyes widened and jaws dropped down to the floor. 

Regulus absolutely loved the way you looked, at least 20 different poem lines or song lyrics running through his mind as he stared at you. Like you were a holy and divine being he worshiped.

And James was looking at you like a ray of sunshine or field of flowers. How could something like you exist in the same world as he did?

You turned around and chuckled softly at the look on their faces, your body moving to slowly wade into the pool. “Hey there, you two.”

“Hi.” Regulus whispered, clearing his throat before saying it again. “Hi, mon amour.” 

“Hi there, baby.” James whispered, letting Regulus stand in the water so they both could wade towards you and cover you in kisses. 

“You’re both the best.” you chuckled softly at them, wrapping yourself around James and leaning in for a kiss before doing the same for Regulus. “I love both of you, do you know that?”

“Yes, we do.” Regulus whispered, kissing your jaw as James’ buried his nose against your hair. “Meethee, are you wearing perfume?”

“Perfume?” you asked, before nodding. “That vanilla one you like. Do you still like it?”

“Oh, mon cœur. The woman that you are.” Regulus whispered softly at that, taking a small scent of the perfume before pulling your lips in for another kiss. “Merlin, I love you so much.” 

“I did it for you,” you whispered, giggling as you felt James kissing your neck. “That tickles!”

“All for us?” he whispered, looking up at you with a gaze so sweet you could melt it like molten candy. “You’re so good to us, you know?”

“Says you.” you giggled.

“What on Earth even happened at his parent’s house in the first place?” James asked you confusedly, looking over at Regulus who had drunken over three beers in twenty minutes. He was standing under the pool shower now, his hair dripping water as he stood in it.

“Lots of yelling and stuff.” you whispered, frowning softly at Regulus’ state. “Plus, Bellatrix was acting like, well, Bellatrix. You know how she is.” 

“Maybe he needs to drink it off?” James whispered, looking at you. Neither of you liked Regulus drinking, though you did know it was a way for him to cope. And until he could escape the hellhole he lived in, it was what worked for him.

“Muggle bar?” you asked him curiously.

“Muggle bar.” James nodded at you.

The both of you got out of the pool and walked over to Regulus, playing with the shower nozzle for a minute or two before drying everyone off.

“Do you want to head to a bar, Regulus?” James whispered, his fingers running through his hair.

“A muggle bar?” Regulus whispered, his eyes shining slightly as he looked up at him.

“Yeah.” James smiled.

Regulus sniffled dramatically, hugging James tight. “You love me so much, don’t you?”

“Both of us do.” you whispered, nails gently scratching at his back. “We love you, ‘kay? We’ll stay sober so you can get drunk, as long as you take a Wiggenweld Potion after we get home.”

“And a Sobering Potion too.” he promised, kissing your forehead lovingly. “Thank you, my love.” 

“Don’t thank us.” you whispered, helping the both of them walk up to James’ room so you could all get ready for the bar.

“Is James going to stay sober?” Regulus whispered softly to you, watching as James looked through his shirt collection. His eyes unabashedly traced the muscles of his back, smiling softly at the sight.

“I think so. He doesn’t like getting drunk, you know how he is.” you chuckled softly. “A big health nut he is, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.” Regulus whispered, turning to you with a curious expression. “Are you going to get drunk with me, pretty girl? I have extra potions if you need.”

“If I ask James, maybe.” you whispered, before pouting softly at Regulus. “As long as I don’t get the vodka you like. It burns.”

“Of course not.” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ll get you all the drinks you love.” 

“I’m going to beat you!” yoh slurred, the pool stick in your hand swaying slightly as you angled it to the white ball. “Just you wait, Reggie.”

“You’re going to try, pretty.” he chuckled softly at you. He was holding his alcohol a lot better than you were. “And then you’re going to be sad when you lose, y’know that?”

“Nuh uh.” you said, giggling softly as James walked up behind you and helped you line the stick up.

“That’s cheating!” Regulus chuckled, leaning against the table. 

James chuckled softly as you started drunkenly bumbling, taking over the pool stick and hitting the ball against the others. “Look babes, you’re solid.”

“I’m solid?” you asked, looking up at him as you pulled him into a hug. “I think I’m starry.”

“Starry?” James asked, kissing your forehead as he watched Regulus shoot his shot. He shot about three in a row, impressive for how many drinks he had already. “How are you starry?”

“Because you’re giving me a hug, and it’s starry.” you whispered, giggling as you bounced over to Regulus. “You make me starry too!”

Regulus chuckled softly at your drunkenness, realizing rather quickly that you probably wouldn’t be able to play pool nor darts. He still didn’t mind entertaining you though. “Did you know my name is based off of a star?”

“It is?” you asked, clapping your hands together. “We’re stars together!”

“Yes we are, mon cœur.” he chuckled softly.

“And Jamie has to come with us too.” you whispered softly, looking over at James. “I don’t want him feeling left out, okay?”

“Of course he can come with us.” Regulus chuckled softly to you. “He’s like the sun.”

“The sun!” you giggled softly, before stumbling into Regulus’ arms. “Sorry Reggie.”

“It’s okay, just be careful next time pretty,” he whispered, smirking softly. “You wanna watch me beat James’ ass in pool?”

“Yeah!” you giggled.

James had been smiling the entire night, ever since he saw you two in his backyard.

You were wearing a different dress, one that was black and a bit puffier at the end of it. Regulus was wearing all black attire as well, a black silk shirt with black slacks and Doc Martens. Right now, the both of you were standing by the bar, sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd of people who looked a little better than average.

You were both absolutely beautiful. And absolutely wasted.

“I think this is going to be your final drink.” he whispered softly, grabbing you by the waist when you sat next to him.

“What?” you whined, looking over at Regulus. “Why is he cutting us off?”

Regulus shrugged, taking a sip of his drink as he looked at James with puppy eyes.

“Nope, not falling for it.” James muttered, dramatically tossing his head to the ceiling. “We’re going to get you two your potions and then we’re going to head home, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“On the contrary to the message you are trying to spread,” Regulus slurred out, hiccuping at the end. “I believe we should be able to consume alcoholic beverages however long we want.”

“And I believe that I don’t want you sick tomorrow.” James said, looking down at Regulus. “Don’t make me do it.”

“You won’t!” you gasped audibly.

“I would.” he said sternly, putting as serious of an expression he could on. “Don’t test me.”

“No, no!” Regulus said. “We’ll go.”

“Good.” James said, chuckling softly as the both of you stumbled to put your glasses back at the bar. Oh how he loved you two.

“Okay, who’s in bed first?” James asked, looking at both you and Regulus in matching pajamas.

“I believe that it’s your turn for mutual cuddles.” you mumbled sleepily, patting the bed down for James to get in. “Go on Jamie.”

“Oh,” James nodded, looking down at the bed before smiling. “My turn it is.”

“Your turn it is.” Regulus hummed, crawling in and wrapping his arms around James. You were much more uncivilized, wrapping your entire being around him contently. 

The lights turned of magically as you all got comfortable in the bed, small sighs escaping your mouths as your eyes closed. Regulus’ grip tightened ever so slightly, his hand grasping yours in his sleep. Your body stayed wrapped around James, though your calf somewhat covered Regulus’ leg.

And James was content laying in the middle and spread like a starfish, smiling as he listened to the both of your breathing gently. James wouldn’t have this any other way. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH POST OF THE CENTURY (really its not) i'm waiting for my amazing poll votes to come through, so i'm currently just posting up whatever on earth feels like posting before i head out for the day. thank you guys so much for the support it geniunely means so much!!!

AS ALWAYS please like and comment and reblog and all of that snazzy snaz snaz, and i hope you have an excellent day!

[daizedndconfused]

You wouldn't happen to be open to doing a cole x reader where they are asked by wu to train the ninja (because there extremely flexible and skilled) and they end up beating all of them without using many weapons would you??? Mehehehe I love your writing and cole is so Under Appreciated (people should give him so more love!!) and you portray his character so well thank you thank you :3

new girl

a/n - hi lovely!! tysm for the request and kind words hello?!! also loved this request we love us a strong girl hahaha i kinda drew some inspo from our icon ty lee. this lowkey ended up being longer than i thought but SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG SOME RANDOM SICKNESS WAS KICKING MY ASS ALL WEEK??? but we’re getting better now hahaha (also totally agree give my boy cole some love he deserves it) anyways enjoy i hope i did your vision some justice honestly if you want me to make a pt 2 i sooo can with some more one on one moments

characters - cole x reader

type - fluff!!

warnings - just some mild violence in the form of sparring

synopsis - the ninja a relying too much on their elemental powers and master wu needs some help reminding them of what’s really important who better to teach them than you??

“Breathe,” your mother reminded you gently.

Easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one suspended in a middle-split between two rocks over a stream. Regardless, you did as she asked, feeling the air move in and out of your lungs and the sweat forming on your temple.

“The key is concentration–balance,” her voice came from the bank to your right.

Most of what she said you already knew having been doing this for years, but you didn’t mind.

In and out your breaths went, eyes closed, relying only on your hearing until you felt your mother’s presence hovering next to you.

Peaking your eyes open, she stood on a nearby rock smiling down at you.

“Very good,” she nodded, offering you a hand to help you up.

“Thank you,” you exhaled, stretching out your legs a bit after so long in your previous position.

Your mother smoothed your hair back before leading you across the stream and back onto the land where you promptly shoved on your shoes.

The two of you chatted beneath the warm sun and cool breeze all the way back to your house. Though even before entering, you heard voices coming from within.

You shared a look of confusion with your mother.

That was odd, your father should be the only one home at the moment.

You gently pushed the door open and followed the voices to your living room where you saw your father in a deep conversation with an older man.

“Wu!” Your mother chirped, rounding you to greet the stranger.

The old’s eyes crinkled as he smiled beneath his long wispy white beard. Your mother bowed slightly as a sign of respect, and you thought it only best to do the same.

Eventually, you all sat around the living room, each nursing a steaming cup of tea.

“What do we owe this visit?” Your mother asked kindly. Apparently your parents and Master Wu went way back. They learned all they knew from the man himself, which then trickled down to you.

Wu took a sip of tea before answering. “I wish to offer your daughter a job.”

All eyes moved to you.

A job? What kind of job?

Your back straightened slightly at all the attention. “Sir?”

Wu sighed wearily, “I have realized I may need more help than I currently have. Upon opening a tea shop, I have less and less time to teach my students.” He swirled his tea twice before his eyes set upon you. “Would you be open to helping out?”

“Oh, uh… your students are?” You trailed off.

“The ninja, dear,” your mother filled in gently.

Oh. The ninja? What could you possibly teach the ninja? Sure, martial arts was nothing new, and yeah you were trained in combat thanks to your father, but they had elemental powers for heaven's sake.

“I’m not sure how much help I could be,” you answered sheepishly.

“You do not need special abilities to teach,” Wu smiled. “And I fear the elements are why I am seeking this help in the first place. It appears my students are disregarding their training for their elemental powers.”

That made sense. Whenever you got frustrated while training with your father he always reminded you you didn’t need flashy powers to be strong. Because while they may be useful, there’s always a chance they can vanish, and then what?

Eventually you made up your mind. “Okay, I’ll do it.” You quickly looked to your parents, “If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course,” your mother wrapped her arms around you. “We know you’re in safe hands with Wu. Just promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” you assured her as your father also joined in on saying goodbye.

Before long you were packed with enough things to last a few weeks. You might have to repeat some outfits for a while since the duration of your stay wasn’t specified. But you always had money you could spend on clothes.

“How do we get there?” You asked Master Wu after he informed you he and his students were residing at his tea shop, Steep Wisdom.

He glanced at you out the corner of his, and you just caught the glint of a smirk beneath his beard before golden particles started to form in front of you.

From those particles, something even greater arose. A dragon.

Your mouth gaped open. Wu laughed before tossing your luggage on top of the large white and gold dragon that had just materialized in front of you.

--

The dragon flight was frightening at first, but as you relaxed it wasn’t so bad. You got to see things from an all new perspective. Dragon-eye view style.

Eventually, through the clearing of teas you flew over, you spotted a cozy tea house nestled between the woods.

The dragon dipped lower and lower before let out a warning, “The dragon dissolves, can you stick the landing?”

“Of course,” you smiled. A drop from this height? Easy.

You prepared yourself, but the disappearance of the dragon beneath you still caught you off guard a bit. However, that didn’t stop you from landing perfectly on your feet.

Flawless, you thought as your luggage somehow landed just as gracefully next to you.

The space around you truly was beautiful. A wall surrounded the tea shop and courtyard, and you heard rushing water faintly in the distance, telling you there was some type of natural water nearby.

What you didn’t notice was the five boys lingering outside upon your arrival.

“Uh, anyone gonna introduce us?” A slightly high pitched voice asked.

You snapped your gaze away from the scenery and towards the voice. Five boys around your own age and dressed in colorful gis regarded you curiously.

Before you could introduce yourself, Wu cut in. “This is your new strength trainer. She’ll be taking over lessons when I’m busy. I expect each of you to treat her with respect.”

A course of “Yes, Sensei’s” were said before the bowed in unison.

Then, an older woman with a long braid falling down her back summoned Wu. Something about an inventory issue.

“Excuse me,” he said to you, and then to his students, “someone will need to show her to her new quarters.”

With that he was gone. And you were left with five teenage boys staring at you.

“Um, hi I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.” You stuck with a polite introduction.

“Hey there,” a brunette boy with somewhat spiky hair said. “You know we don’t usually get many new people, may you and I could–”

“Kai,” a tall boy with black hair, cut him off. “Don’t be weird. She just got here.”

“What?” Kai gaped. “I was just going to ask if–”

“I apologize for my brother.” This time the voice came from… a titanium robot? Now that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Clearly the surprise was written all over your face at the unanimous chuckle that came from each boy.

“I am Zane,” the robot didn’t seem phased by your surprise. “This is Kai, Jay, Cole, and Lloyd. Kai’s sister also resides with us, but I’m afraid she is busy helping Misako and Master Wu.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” you responded. “Do one of you know where I’m staying? If I don’t unpack now I’ll never get it done.” You admitted with a laugh.

“I got it,” said the boy with black hair you now knew to be Cole. He walked over, and grabbed each of your bags as though they weighed nothing.

“You don’t have to do that, I can take some of them. I know they’re a little heavy but no one told me how long I’d be staying.”

“Please,” Cole smirked, “it’s nothing. I can lift more than ten times this weight.”

“Show off,” Kai coughed.

“You okay?” Lloyd asked him.

“Yeah just something caught in my throat,” Kai shook his head before coughing the phrase again.

Cole rolled his eyes at Lloyd and Jay laughed. Zane didn’t seem to get it. You even found yourself smiling at the joke before following Cole to your room.

“Don’t mind them,” he said. “They can be a lot sometimes.”

“Something tells me you also fit into that category,” you teased. You are who you hangout with afterall. Though it wasn’t always true, it seemed fitting for this situation.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out won’t you?” Cole joked, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Eventually the two of you climbed a set of stairs hidden in the back of the tea shop. Upstairs was a small apartment looking room with multiple sets of doors, one of them being your own room.

It was a decent size, about the same as the one you had back home, with plenty of closet space.

“It’s not much I know,” Cole said, “but there’s been worse places we’ve stayed trust me.”

“No it’s perfect,” you insisted. “I don’t need a whole lot to get by.”

Cole nodded, setting your stuff down. “There’s two bathrooms, the boys and I share the one on the left, and you’ll be sharing with Nya on the right.”

You nodded, looking around your new room, thinking of all the ways you could make it look homier. Cole didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t leave either. He simply stood in your doorframe, looking at you, looking at your bare room.

“What?” You asked him, smiling.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin. “Sorry, I’ll let you get settled in.”

You wanted to tell him it was no problem, but he vanished before you could. Out of all the boys you had just met, was the best looking in your eyes.

Shiny black hair, tall, and built like the mountains he commanded. Your new job was off to a good start already.

It was well into the evening when you finally met Nya. She sighed thankfully at the sight of you. She loved her brother, and she didn’t have any problems with the boys. They were all equally respectful, but other than Misako she had no other girls to talk to.

You too were happy for another girl to talk to. There was only so much testosterone someone could be around.

The two of you got along quickly as you offered to stock some shelves with her. Even though you were technically here to train the ninja, you weren’t due to start until the next day.

Your alarm woke you up at six thirty sharp. You know you weren’t supposed to start with the boys until eight that morning, but you wanted to get an early start on your first day before you got lazy.

Passing your way to the bathroom, you ran through your morning routine groggily before you headed downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea to wake you up.

Scanning the shelves for something that looked appetizing for the early morning, you didn’t even hear someone approach you from behind.

“I personally like this one,” a familiar voice said from behind you before a hand shot out and grabbed a case off one of the shelves just a hair too high for you to reach.

You jump slightly, startled by the person’s presence.

Spinning around, you saw the voice and arm belonged to Cole. He was smiling softly at you, a case of green tea in his hands. He too held the appearance of just waking up–tousled hair, sleepy eyes, and the lack of a shirt with black plaid pajama pants.

You quickly averted your eyes from his bare chest and instead found refuge in his earth eyes.

“Why green?” You blurted. It was the only question you could think of at this moment. And maybe it would distract him from the fact you were ogling him just a bit.

“Helps with energy,” he shrugged, tossing the case up in one hand. “I’ll start the kettle.”

It took you an embarrassingly long time to follow him to the back of the tea shop where a small kitchen resided.

He filled the kettle up with water and placed it on the stove before taking a seat at the island next.

“I’d make you some breakfast, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be edible and that’s not the first impression I want you to have of me.” Cole laughed sheepishly.

You laughed with him before you took it upon yourself to scope out the fridge.

“How do you feel about omelets?” You asked after finding multiple cases of eggs. With this many ingredients you would be able to feed the whole team.

“I’m down,” he nodded.

You closed the fridge slightly before you saw a slip of paper taped to the front. It seemed to be a list of written chores, and at the bottom written in all capital letters next to a star were the words, ‘COLE IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN UNSUPERVISED.’

“Jeez, what’d you do?” You giggled, gesturing to the paper.

The boy flushed slightly, shrugging his broad shoulders before saying, “You set fire to the oven one time and suddenly you’re untrustworthy.” He rolled his eyes.

“Funny how that works.”

“Hilarious.” He deadpanned.

“Well since you can’t help with the food why don’t you just grab anything you want to add to the eggs, help me find the pans, and I’ll take care of the cooking part.” You suggested.

“That I can do,” he slipped off the stool.

Even though he wasn’t helping with the actual breakfast, the two of you worked in harmony together. He’d hand you the spatula, chop some vegetables, and give you some spices upon request. However, when you thought you could trust him with cracking an egg and he ended up getting it all over his bare torso you took it upon yourself to tie a black apron around him.

“Seriously?” He laughed as you tied the knot around his waist.

“Yup,” you nodded. “Damn. I’d need a magnifying glass to find your waist.”

He tipped his head back and laughed as you returned to flipping omelets with a smirk.

At this point you had successfully made two cups of tea, and three omelets. On the fourth, you were starting to grow more confident.

“Think I could flip it without a spatula?” You asked.

“No,” Cole shook his head, now seated on the island behind you.

“No faith,” you gasped, offended.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he shrugged, leaning back on his palms.

“Oh yeah?” You challenged before grasping the pan handle with both hands. You’d never done this before, but how hard could it be really? The answer was not very as you successfully tossed up an omelet and caught it gently on the other side.

You cheered, victorious as Cole also encouraged you, both laughing all the way.

Eventually, more and more people started waking up, and the more competent ones (Zane) began to help you with breakfast.

By the time eight in the morning rolled around, breakfast had been done, dishes were washed, and you were gathered in the courtyard with each of the ninja. Wu had given you the rundown of what he’d like you to work on with his students, and that’s exactly what you’d do.

“So,” you said, shaking the jitters out of your hands. “I’m thinking I’ll just spar one on one with each of you to see what you need to work on. Okay?”

The boys traded uneasy glances. “Are you sure?” Jay asked.

You smiled a little at their apprehension. “Yes, I’m positive. We’re just sparring, remember. But don’t hold back, otherwise it’s just a waste of time.”

“Yeah, you get your ass handed to you by Nya all the time, this shouldn’t be different.” Cole patted Jay on the back.

The others laughed at Jay’s blush and he grumbled something inaudible under his breath.

“Okay Jay, since you’re so worried you’re up first.” You waved him over. “Sensei said no powers.”

“Right,” Jay nodded as he approached you slowly.

“I’m not gonna bite you, Jay.”

“I know that!” He defended as the boys behind him howled with laughter.

You couldn’t help but tease him as the two of you got into a fighting stance.

You dug your feet into the ground and steadied your breathing. The key to combat was focus, controlled breathing, and anticipation. At least that’s what your father told you.

It was no surprise to you that Jay attacked quickly. He was the master of lightning afterall. However, that was what made him so predictable.

He’d throw a series of quick jabs that you avoided with grace. With each attack you’d be just an inch out of reach. Jay was quick–but you were quicker.

You didn’t notice it, but the chatter was nonexistent, and Jay was wholly focused on sparring. Though the sweat building on his forehead, and his attacks slowing were also becoming more prominent.

He threw a high kick in there this time, which was just what you were waiting for. The second his foot came off the ground, you moved to the side, grabbed his ankle, and with your own leg, swept his balancing leg off the ground causing him to fall straight onto his back.

Jay landed with a wheeze, but you helped him up just as quickly. “Your attacks are precise, but they’re sloppy. You try to cram in a lot of combined attacks and hope for the best. If you slow them down a bit you’re more likely to land a few.”

Kai ‘Ohed’ from the sidelines. “You didn’t even get one hit dude.”

Jay glared at him as he took a seat beside Lloyd.

“And you won’t either, your turn.” You pointed to Kai.

The others laughed, but Kai rose, determination clear on his face.

You got into position again, but this time you’d change up your evasion techniques. Since he spent the previous match observing you he no doubt knew some of your moves.

Kai fought more aggressively than Jay, but with less accuracy making him easier to avoid. You twirled around him after a hard punch threw him off balance slightly. With your backs to each other, you only had a moment to grab his arm, crouch, shift your weight, and flip his body over yours.

Kai landed as hard as Jay.

After explaining his problem to him, you called up Zane next. You wanted to get the analyzing robot out of the way before you completely ran out of cards to play.

You had to admit, Zane almost got you, but you quickly threw yourself from his reach with a well timed aerial over his shoulder. Just as you landed he threw a punch, but you were ready for that. You crouched the moment you landed, and swept both his legs.

Standing quickly, you had just enough time to catch the front of his gi, suspending him above the floor ever so slightly. You felt a bit bad–you didn’t want to dent him after all.

Lloyd whistled, impressed, as he was finally called to the stand.

Lloyd, the green ninja. You knew he would also be pretty difficult, but it was like you were in a trance at the moment. You weren’t about to lose your winning streak, were you?

Being as flexible as you were didn’t hurt either. Sure the ninja were pretty flexible, but you could contort yourself into the most uncomfortable positions making it easy to avoid each of the ninja's blows.

All you had to do was wait until they tired themselves out, and then deliver the final blow. It was almost as if they were fighting themselves.

Lloyd looked concentrated, but his stance was off slightly. You feinted one way, and he fell for it easily, shifting all his weight onto one side of his body to prepare for the hit he thought was coming. Instead, you spun and shoved your shoulder hard into the opposite side of his body.

Lloyd crumbled like a house of cards.

When the green ninja retreated with a defeated look on his face, you were left with only one ninja now.

You suspected because of his height, Cole would be slow and off balance, but you were wrong. He was sturdy, and his height only added to his balance if anything. You’ve fought people bigger and stronger than you all the time, bad unlucky for him they only went down one way.

After a while of going through your song and dance of avoidance once again, Cole laughed.

“You’re slippery, huh?” He joked.

You winked before sliding between his legs, kicking the back of his knees and then once more between his shoulder blades to send him tumbling down to the ground.

“Wu was right,” you huffed, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “You guys rely way too much on your powers.”

“Alright, cough it up, where’d you learn that?” Jay asked.

“Learn what?” You laughed, helping a grumpy Cole from the floor.

“You flip around so much I got sick from just looking at you!” Jay whined.

“Lots of practice and some time in the cirque,” she shrugged.

“Like the circus?” Cole asked, looking down at you.

“Not the stuff with the tent and the animals,” you clarified. “More like the Cirque Du Soleil shows, you know? Anyway, I did a lot of acro as a kid. Made it easy to learn combat.”

“That’s awesome,” Kai said. “Have you ever juggled fire?”

“I told you, it’s not the tent type of circus,” you laughed. “It’s classier than that. That’s besides the point, you all have work to do. Lucky for all of you we’re going to start with yoga today! Just as a warm up.”

You giggled behind your hand at the unanimous groan coming from all five boys.

[hyperions-light]

A home in life, a berth in death, a house of many mansions: the Necropolis fucks

Before the game came out the Necropolis was one of the top five places I was hoping they would let us visit in Thedas and I'm so thrilled it did not disappoint! The architecture, the atmosphere is impeccable, the reactivity everywhere (cleansing the Vault of the Beloved, the secret room that appears, the skeleton workers that begin cleaning different areas as the game progresses), the detail in everything. Did you know that in the room where you get the codex entry about the flesh-eating beetles, you can look down and see them running across the floor? Love it!

But the environment itself is only an aspect of what makes the Necropolis so much fun; the insight we finally get into Nevarran culture is possibly the most important thing that comes out of it. The only Nevarran we've really met before was Cassie (love her, she was not very informative, though), so to actually get to meet people who serve as stewards to one of the most sacred cultural rites is incredible and exactly what I wanted from this game. I loved discovering their unique perspective on magic, and how they handle their Templar Order.

It's also a fascinating lore point to discover that Emmrich can speak to the dead; we've never actually encountered a REAL ghost in DA, I don't think. There have been things which appeared to be pieces of once-living people, but it could always be explained by 1) weird magic causing them to live past their normal lifespan 2) a spirit acting as a dead person. Emmrich makes a distinction between speaking with real dead people and imbuing a once-living body/articulated skeleton with a spirit. This is so cool and interesting! And they've been doing this consistently and regularly, to talk to the late King Markus! All the magic applications in this game make the South seem so boring lol (but that's for another post).

And I love that the Necropolis itself is considered alive by the Watchers! It moves and rearranges its own configuration in accordance with some sort of unknown will; is it partially built inside the Fade? Is it imbued with magical energies, like Arlathan was? How old is it? Is the reason it functions this way because it's so old that it predates the separation of the Fade from the material world, or is it just that the Veil is thin there? Are the Lichlords the ones directing the Necropolis? How? So many interesting implications and questions brought up by just the building itself!

I think my favorite thing about the Necropolis and the Watchers, though, is how they present death. Most of the cultures that we've encountered so far in Thedas view death as a universally negative thing, but the Nevarrans celebrate its place in the cycle of existence. In the gardens, which are such a beautiful, peaceful location, there's a puzzle you can do where you have to turn on a series of meditation bells in a specific order to get into a treasure room; when you put together the poetry accompanying each bell in the correctly, they describe (metaphorically) the movement of a person through life and into death. It's such a gorgeous little detail, and I love the way the Necropolis is designed to encourage the player to think about death (it also folds in so neatly to Emmrich's personal plotline!), especially since it is so integral to the game as a whole (yet another different post).

Visiting Blackthorne Manor and picking up mementos in the Necropolis shows that, this death positivity is, in fact, a pervasive cultural attitude. Nevarrans believe that they have a duty to each other that persists after they die; that the body can keep being useful; that the living should honor the dead. It's such an interesting perspective that was missing from the DA series; people die all the time, and, of course, it's intended to make the player sad, but DA has never seriously discussed death, its implications, what it truly means or how it affects those left behind. They've never really made you sit and look at it as the player. There are some sad lines after Leandra dies in DA2, but it's mostly in the narrative to give Hawke a reason to hate blood magic and stuff. There's no funeral. There's a few lines from Gamlen, Hawke, and your companions, and then the game moves on. It's always like that; the game gives you a moment to be sad, and then it moves on. There's no mourning. But this game is partially about mourning! It's about people being gone, and it being too late; it insists you look at death and deal with it, and the Necropolis is the epitome of this.

The game asks the question over and over what you think the characters should do in response to their own losses, and the Necropolis represents are really interesting, nuanced, answer to that question. They're not gone; they're right there. They're still with you. You can go and visit them and celebrate who they were in a place that honors and cares for them, still. It's so beautiful and interesting and full of love, for the living and the dead.

I didn't even talk about Emmrich's plotline or the class differences in the Necropolis, or how everyone there is a weird goth nerd and I love it so much, but I think that's really the important point: the symbiosis. The living; the dead; the spirits; the corporeal, all finding a way to be together.

[cyarikaplease]

oral fixation

summary: din eats pussy for the first time.

Din has a little problem, a hyper fixation you might say. He wants to eat you out so bad. It’s a deep, primal urge inside him. But being desperate to eat you out isn’t necessarily a problem, though. The problem is that he’s never done it before. He’s worried he’ll be bad at it. He’s worried you’ll hate it and never want him to do it again. That thought breaks his heart. He loves you more than anything else in the galaxy. All he wants to do is pleasure you. 

So what does every anxious, inexperienced man turn to at a time like this? He turns to porn. 

When you first got together, several many months ago, you brought a holo-pad onto the Crest. Din thought it was mainly for reading or mapping out a course for traveling. But what he didn’t realize is that you can watch videos on it, spicy videos even. You’ve brought up watching porn together as a method of foreplay, which he enjoyed, but he’s never watched them by himself.

Until now. 

You’re at the market on Nevarro. The Razor Crest is parked on the outskirts of town. Din is completely alone and he’s going to take advantage of that. He picks up the holo-pad and browses through the database of videos. He stops scrolling at a particular one titled, “Naboo Cutie Gets Her Flower Licked by a Mandalorian Daddy”. 

…Flower?

But the word “Mandalorian” in the title also caught his eye. He glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re not back yet before he clicks on the video. 

It looks like it was filmed somewhere on Naboo, in a random field. The woman is lying down on a blanket in the grass. It’s a sunny day out, her skin shiny and slick with some sort of body oil. The man kneels on the blanket, situating himself by her feet. He’s wearing Mandalorian armor that’s most likely fake. He takes off his helmet and hovers over her face. 

“Let daddy see your flower, princess,” he says.

That sentence sounds sort of awkward to Din but the woman seems to like it, whimpering in response. He makes a mental note of the dirty talk and continues watching. 

The man spreads her legs apart and crouches down so he’s face to face with the woman’s cunt. The camera zooms in on what’s going on and Din is thankful for that. He’s watching this to learn, not for his own pleasure. The man licks her entrance, running his tongue slowly up towards her clit. The woman lets out a long moan, most likely extremely exaggerated. But it doesn’t take long for the man to bury his face in her cunt, his nose grinding against her clit. The man slides two fingers inside her, driving the woman insane. She clearly likes it because soon enough, Din’s bunk is filled with the lewd noises of the woman’s moans and screams, and the absurd slurping noises the man makes. 

…It’s a little much for Din but eventually, he’s tuning out the noises and fantasizing about doing this to you. He’s so into his fantasy that he doesn’t notice you entering the Crest and standing behind him until you place a hand on his shoulder and ask, “What are you watching?”

He startles a bit, his body jolting a little before pausing the video. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” you chuckle.

“It’s okay…” he says, still feeling embarrassed.

“So, what are you watching?”

“Uhh…” He doesn’t finish, instead just handing you the holo-pad so you can see for yourself. 

You take it in your hands and unpause the video. Your eyes widen at what’s happening on the screen. 

“I see. What were you watching this for?”

“I want… I want to do that.”

“Really?” you ask, your lips curling into a suggestive smirk.

“Yes. I want. So badly,” he says, his strained horniness prominent in his voice. 

“Why?”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You’re sweet,” you say, turning off the holo-pad and setting it on the shelf behind you, “Let’s do it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you say, starting to undress. 

You toss your clothes into a small pile on the floor and kick off your shoes. Din moves so you can lie down on the bunk. He takes off his helmet to reveal his face, his eyes filled with lust and admiration. His face is still a sight you’re getting used to, always a treat. He wastes no time pressing his lips against your neck, licking and tugging at the soft skin with his teeth. He moves downward, trailing kisses along your collarbone before getting to your breasts. He takes one in his hand and runs his tongue along the other. He takes your nipple in his mouth, moaning as he sucks on it. He only recently took off his helmet in front of you. And ever since then whenever you’re intimate, he has the urge to christen your skin with his mouth in whatever way he can. He’s developed a sort of oral fixation, obsessed with kissing, licking, biting you, marking you up in places only he can see. 

He moves his mouth to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment before moving down your tummy and abdomen. He leaves goosebumps on your skin in the wake of his mouth, finally arriving at your groin. He takes a deep breath once he’s staring directly at your cunt. And that’s when he says, “Daddy’s gonna lick your flower, princess.”

You can’t help but laugh, just a little.

“What?”

“Flower?”

“Is that what I should call it?”

“Just call it what it is. Like pussy or cunt.”

“Okay,” he says shakily before licking a slow stripe up your cunt.

You shiver in response, prompting him to say, “Mmm, you like when daddy eats your pussy?”

“Much better. Ah!” you say, your words getting cut off by a moan he licks your cunt again. 

He licks up and down your entrance before moving to your clit, swirling his tongue around it. For it being his first time doing this, he’s not doing a bad job. The movement of his tongue circles faster and faster around your clit. 

But then he stops for a second much to your dismay. He picks up his head off the cot and tugs off his glove, tossing it on the floor. He brings two fingers to his mouth, moistening them and inserting one inside you slowly. He returns his mouth to your clit and curls his finger against your walls. It feels so good, but you need more. 

“More,” you moan softly. He hums against your cunt, sending a vibration up your core before he adds a second finger. He presses them against your g-spot and sucks on your clit simultaneously, a perfect combination of the two sensations. 

You feel yourself arrive at the edge and you moan out “Din, I’m gonna cum.”

He does falter the flow of his movements, instead picking up the pace. You cum against his face, your release soaking his hand and his chin. Your back arches up off the cot and your limbs are filled with waves of pleasure. 

But once you’re done coming you’re back down on the cot. Din laps up your release, savoring your test before pulling away and looking up at you, his facial hair soaked. 

“That was your first time doing that?” you breathe out, your voice still sort of high-pitched from your orgasm. 

“First time,” he affirms.

“Couldn’t tell,” you sigh. But then you quickly add, “Aside from the dirty talk.”

Can’t resist the opportunity to make fun of him, just a little bit. 

“I’ll get better at that, cyar’ika,” he promises.

“Your turn now?” you ask, moving to sit upright.

But instead, he places a hand on your tummy and gently pushes you back down. 

“Actually, I think I want to stay down here longer… That okay with you?” he says, followed by another lap at your cunt.

“Fine with me,” you sigh. 

[m-jelly]

Hey Jelly! I hope you're doing well. It's been forever since I had the chance to request for you and I finally have the time for a request. So if you're up for writing and taking requests, I hope you'll be able to do it. If not, I understand.

What if Levi and Medical Squad Leader! Reader (Who had been temp. benched due to them breaking their leg shortly before Levi joined) met after Levi became a Captian after she had been cleared for squad work again and hit it off when he saw her working on one of his squad members?

It doesn't have to be smut, I just find this idea sososososososooo cute. Like Squad Leader Sunshine and Captian cantankerous.

<3 kenko panda

Heart issues

Levi x fem! reader

Canon world, romance, falling in love, Levi being cute.

Levi landed on the wall, feeling slight exhaustion digging its nails into him. The Titans had been cleared, and now it was time to clean up and see the fallout. Being a Captain was hard, and he had a lot of responsibilities now. He was going to do anything possible to protect his people.

He noticed one of his squad members was hurt, which sent a wave of guilt through him. He didn't think he did enough to protect them. He began moving closer but stopped when he saw the most beautiful woman start jogging over to his squad member.

Levi gulped hard as he took you in. He was sure he'd met everyone in the scouts, but he'd never seen you, he was sure he'd remember you. It then clicked for him, you must have been the medical squad leader who was on leave due to a broken leg.

He gripped his chest right over his chest as his heart raced. He watched as you moved, as you smiled and as you cared so nicely for his squad member. He clenched up tightly when you noticed him and began to make your way over to him.

You smiled sweetly at Levi. "Captain Levi, right?"

He nodded. "Mm."

You tilted your head. "Are you okay? You look a bit flushed and your pupils are blown."

"I-I." He shivered when you touched his neck. "Tch, fuck."

"Your heart is racing. Do you need medical attention?"

He looked away from you. "Damn brat. My heart won't stop racing. Fix it."

You pulled back a bit. "I'll try."

He grabbed your hand. "Don't stop touching me." He stared at you and blushed hard. "S-Sorry." He released your hand. "Tch, shit."

You placed your hand on his chest. "Captain, when did your heart start racing like this?"

He huffed a bit. "When I looked at you. Tch, it's your fault brat I'm this way."

Your heart skipped a beat. "W-Wait, are you saying I'm making your heart race?"

"Yes!"

You rubbed his chest. "I think I know what's wrong with you."

He relaxed a bit. "You do? What the hell is it?"

"I think you have a crush on me."

He felt a rush of different emotions and thoughts. "Hmm. I need to fix this."

You pulled back from him. "I can keep my distance maybe?"

He shook his head. "No, that won't do. The only way to fix it is for us to go on many dates." He leaned closer and kissed your cheek. "Mm, I liked that..." He flinched a bit. "I will write you a letter."

You touched your cheek and watched Levi run off. You giggled a bit. "So cute."

Tag list under the cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

[storiesabouteli]

TellTales // Elijah Hewson X Reader! (Fluff) Part1 of 2.

prompt: It's a narration of how they are young and in a way they share differences, but they are in love. It takes place in a student environment (college) and continues with a car trip and in the next part reader meets the boys, the fic is just about how they feel about each other in the midst of everyday life and a relationship that is new. And although I commented on sexual relations, I did not describe the act itself, there is no smut. (This story is from my old blog, it's very old, and I decided to rewrite it)

words: 3K

You tiptoed your way through the bleachers, scanning the crowd for him. You hadn’t explicitly asked him to come, but you’d dropped enough hints to hope he’d show up. Deep down, you understood if he couldn’t make it, but the thought of him not being there still left a pang of sadness.

Either way, he’d be picking you up shortly after the game ended. You’d agreed to spend the weekend with some of his bandmates and their girlfriends. You recognized them from glimpses in the hallways and the gigs you’d attended, but meaningful interactions with them had been rare. You were aware of the reputation you’d unintentionally acquired in that social circle but didn’t let it bother you.

You hadn’t dated much in life. In fact, Elijah was the only person you’d ever been involved with—both emotionally and physically. While that choice sometimes stirred whispers or the occasional mean-spirited comment, it was clear that most people didn’t care, if anything, they just found it curious.

“How was last night?” your best friend asked, a knowing smirk on her face. Judging by your expression, she already suspected the answer.

“It was… great,” you admitted, the butterflies in your stomach still fluttering from the memory. Your hands felt clammy, and your nervous cheeks were impossible to hide.

“Was sex with Elijah really that good?” There was a teasing edge in her tone, but you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or sarcastic. You elbowed her, though the heat in your face only deepened.

“Did he take charge? Or was all the work left to you?” she continued, her grin widening. You rolled your eyes, but her playful jab stayed in your head longer than you’d care to admit.

Hiding your face in your hands, you realized she just wanted to embarrass you. Asking her to lower her voice, she laughed and agreed, though it was clear she expected more details. It was your first time with Eli, and you’d been nervous—something entirely unusual for you from her perspective. Naturally, she wanted to know everything.

You decided to keep most of it to yourself, knowing she’d get the picture. You settled on something simple: “He’s not shy, but in a good way. He’s... observant, and he made good use of that. He’s fine,” you said, biting your lip to contain a smile. But the memory of him holding you, the way his hands moved so assuredly, and the soft sighs and muffled moans you’d shared—it all came flooding back, making your heart crazy. You didn’t know how, but it had been intimate and irresistibly sexy, leaving you on the brink of tears from the overwhelming connection. You couldn’t wait to be with him again.

She nodded knowingly, her expression softening at your obvious happiness. “It’s nice that you have him. I’m glad for you. He seems like a great guy.”

Her words made you smile, but they also left you feeling a little unsettled. Eli was your complete opposite in so many ways. You had no doubts that he liked you, but the thought of him realizing how easily he could find someone better lingered in your mind.

You were popular, but it was something that had happened by accident rather than design. You didn’t care about it much, though you appreciated the “good girl” image that came with it. Eli, on the other hand, had a laid-back, effortlessly cool demeanor. He wasn’t concerned with appearances and didn’t seem to care about what others thought. Maybe that was something you needed to learn from him.

Even your interests didn’t align much, but so far, things had been going well.

Lost in your thoughts, your friend shook your shoulders, snapping you back to reality. She turned you toward the crowd, and her grin widened when she saw your face light up. There he was—his messy curls catching the light.

“Damn, you really got Hewson to come to a college game,” she teased.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. It wasn’t exactly his scene. The echoing cheers of the players and the squeals of the cheerleaders were likely grating to him, but there he was, leaning casually in the back corner. You tried not to let your nerves spiral as you wondered how he felt about all this, about you.

Before you could respond, you spotted him in the distance. Your heart skipped a beat. He looked serious, like he’d rather be anywhere else, and for a moment, doubt crept in. But then his eyes found yours. His expression softened, his hands in his jacket pockets, and his lips curled into a small smile.

You waved enthusiastically, and to your relief, he lit up, waving back just as excitedly. He brushed his hair back, standing still in that secluded spot, and blew you a kiss. A few people nearby noticed, and his cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t seem to care. Your Eli was there.

You threw him a kiss in return, and with his typical playful flair, he pretended to catch it, tucking it into his pocket. It was such a simple, teasing gesture, yet it made your heart swell. He might not love the setting, but he was there for you.

As you turned back to your position on the court, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him. He looked proud, as though being there and seeing you so happy made everything worth it.

The performance began, and you gave it your all—the dances, the spins, the choreography. A small part of you felt self-conscious, knowing he was watching. While you were sure he wouldn’t judge you, this wasn’t his thing, and you worried about what he thought.

But when your eyes found his again, there was no doubt. It was you. He was there because of you. And that was all that mattered.

The game ended, and as you and the girls announced the final score, thanking everyone for coming, your focus was already elsewhere. You didn’t even register who was speaking to you as you made your way toward Eli. His smile didn’t falter, and he opened his arms wide, waiting for you.

Instinctively, you ran into him, throwing your arms around his neck. He caught you with ease, lifting you slightly off the ground as his arms tightened around you. Without hesitation, he adjusted your skirt, his hand lingering protectively to keep it in place. You had noticed this habit of his before, and though you found it sweet, you hadn’t told him yet that you always wore shorts underneath. You were sure he knew, but the gesture was heartwarming.

You buried your face in his hair, letting the softness of his curls surround you. He nuzzled into your neck in return, inhaling deeply as if to draw comfort from your scent. For a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, while the noise and chaos of the game faded into the background.

When your feet touched the ground again, you lingered there, gazing at one another in a rare moment of silence. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth in his caramel eyes and the soft curve of his lips.

You took a small step further, closing the distance between you, and kissed him. It wasn’t tentative—it was the kind of kiss that spoke volumes, a mixture of longing and familiarity. You could taste the faint trace of gum on his tongue, a detail you’d remember fondly later. His hands trailed over your sides, light and deliberate, grounding you in the moment. He felt like calm, like home, and you melted into him, despite the murmurs and stares from the crowd.

The kiss ended quickly but left a deep impression. His hands stayed firmly on your waist, keeping you close, while your gaze was on his lips, too shy to meet his eyes just yet. He broke the silence with a soft kiss to your cheek, then your forehead, dotting your skin with gentle pecks that made you nervous. He always did this, and every time, it made you fall for him all over again.

“Sorry for being late,” he said, his voice low and apologetic. “Josh needed the car.” He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders in one smooth motion, pausing to kiss the top of your head. “Keep it—you look cold.”

You clutched the jacket tightly, enveloped by his warmth and the faint smell of him in the fabric. “I don’t mind,” you replied, light and genuine. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, intertwining your fingers. “I know this isn’t your favorite place, so it means a lot to me that you came tonight.”

Eli didn’t respond right away, his mind swirling with thoughts about the people around him, whom he saw as unremarkable, living to meet expectations rather than exploring life’s possibilities. It was an opinion he had once extended to you, long before he became enamored with the way you danced, your laugh ringing through the halls, and your quiet determination to pursue what you loved. Now, he saw you differently. You weren’t just going through the motions—you genuinely enjoyed being there, with your friends and your passions.

Such a realization had led him to fill your locker with letters—awkward yet heartfelt, each building the bridge to this very moment.

He rubbed his thumb over your palm, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “I’ll be here as many times as necessary,” he murmured. “I like to see you happy.”

His words made your goofy smile return full force. He placed a hand gently on the small of your back, guiding you toward his car.

Eli’s ears were still flushed as he opened the door for you, and you couldn’t help but wish for more of that.

...

He sifted through his belongings, handpicking a few tapes and placing them on your lap. "Pick one," he said, anticipation lacing his voice.

You scanned the options before spotting a familiar purple cover. "Oh my God, it's Kate Bush!" you exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. It was surreal. Even as he kept his eyes on the road, his presence filled the small, borrowed car.

"Josh mentioned you were a fan," he said casually.

"And you went and got it for me?" you asked eagerly, pressing play without hesitation.

He nodded, watching your smile grow with every note.

Before he could say anything, you squealed and leaned over to kiss his cheek quickly, careful to avoid causing any accidents. Feeling at ease with him, you mimicked Kate’s vocals, exaggerating your facial expressions to match the drama of her delivery. He chuckled, thankful to Josh for tipping him off about the tape.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, lil' one," he murmured, his voice warm. Your enthusiasm for the lyrics matched his quiet contentment in seeing you well.

He didn’t know the words or the instrumentation but encouraged you to keep going, like your number-one fan.

"Did you know David Gilmour kind of discovered Kate Bush?" you asked between breaths.

"I’ve heard that somewhere," he replied, prompting you to share more. He liked Pink Floyd, you knew that.

"It’s like we’re all interconnected, isn’t it?" you mused, glancing at him solemnly before turning back to the road, tapping the melody out with your fingers. "I kind of like the thought of it."

"Yeah, it’s a nice thought," he agreed, his chest filling with a quiet warmth. Not ready to let the conversation fade, he added, "So, have you been checking out any of the bands I like?"

The world seemed to slow down for a moment. You noticed the softness in Eli’s features, a rare, relaxed smile that only appeared when he was with you. In other settings—classes, the cafeteria, gigs—he maintained his usual unbothered demeanor, some cool smiles yet nothing more, which you found charming, but this version of him was your favorite.

He placed his large hand gently on your thigh, not moving it but bringing you a sense of comfort. You fingered the rings and felt the more prominent veins on his skin. Smiling, you placed your hand over his, threading your fingers through his long ones. Even brief touches like this filled you with quiet joy.

"I have," you admitted, feeling a little shy. "I wanted to hear what you liked, and I found one I really enjoyed."

His eyes widened in disbelief, and for a moment, you feared he might crash the car. But Eli, ever grounded, kept things steady. "No way! You've reached Blackstar?"

The thing was, you already knew Bowie, of course, but Eli saw him through a unique lens. He had favorite albums and endless commentary about every track. After spending hours with you the night before, he’d gone home, obsessed with crafting a perfect playlist to introduce you to his idol. He never imagined you’d actually listen.

"I did," you confirmed, suppressing a laugh at his attempt to maintain his unbothered facade, though it failed to hide the goofy smile creeping onto his face.

You grinned and began to sing, “Just like that bluebird, oh, I’ll be free…” pretending to hold a microphone.

He smiled as if he’d just won the lottery. “Just like that bluebird, oh, I’ll be free. Ain’t that just like me…” he sang back, pouring affection into every note.

Bowie’s words felt like home, like the perfect bridge between you. Eli never spared feelings when it came to sharing his passions, not like that, not for any special one, even when he initially thought your differences might be too vast. He was starting to see the beauty in complementing perspectives.

You loved Bowie, though not quite as much as he did. And, much like him with Kate Bush, you were learning to appreciate the depth of the connection through each other’s eyes.

...

You were asleep, your hand resting on Eli's arm as he drove down the empty highway. He glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched you sleep peacefully.

Suddenly, as if your mind had been waiting for it, you jolted awake, gasping for air and clutching your chest. Your body trembled as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Eli said, his tone soothing as he reached over, gently rubbing your back. "Just take deep breaths with me, huh?"

You nodded, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry," you whispered, guilt heavy in your voice.

"Don't be sorry," Elijah said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "You're not bothering me. I just want to make sure you're fine, babe. Are you good?"

Leaning back against the seat, you inhaled deeply, trying to calm yourself. "It's just...a nightmare. I get them sometimes, and they're always hard to shake off."

"I see," Elijah murmured. "I've been there with you before, remember?" His sweet smile softened his words as he squeezed your hand. And it was true-it wasn't the first time, and you didn't need to feel ashamed. "We'll get through this, okay?"

Pulling the car to the side of the road, he opened the windows and doors to let in the crisp, early morning air. You sat quietly, watching as the sky began to shift, the first rays of dawn painting the horizon with soft light.

"It's so nice, quite beautiful," you murmured, feeling an odd sense of peace settling over you. Small but present, a reminder that he didn’t see you as a problem to be dealt with.

Eli nodded. "Yeah, it is. Like you, when you're comfortable like this," he added, immediately regretting his words, fearing they might sound wrong.

You smiled warmly, your face heating at his unintended confession, making Eli relax. "Thank you."

He reached into the backseat and grabbed a comforter, draping it over you with care. He made sure you were snug and warm, his movements gentle as he tucked you in.

Stopping briefly, he stood silently by the car, watching you shift restlessly under the duvet. Your eyes stayed locked on him, steady and observant. Though your breathing had calmed, you didn't seem ready to sleep again.

"Do you want me to stay here until you sleep?" His voice carried a mix of awkwardness and worry.

"No," you said after a pause, your gaze lingering on his hands gripping the steering wheel and the way his lips were reddened from nervous biting. Your breath hitched faintly, betraying your unease. "Actually, we could stay here for a while." You loosened the duvet, the warmth of the moment overtaking your earlier chill.

He arched a brow, his features shadowed in the dim light. "Okay, but you feel good, right?”

"Yeah, just can't sleep," you admitted, your hand brushing over his shoulder and trailing to the back of his neck, seeking the comfort of his warmth. "Come closer. I want to feel you." You tugged him toward you, your words low and certain.

And Eli had that moment of realization, noticing how different you were from what others perceived, from the image they had built of you. He loved that—that this raw, genuine side of you was something only he had access to.

Eli hesitated for a second before leaning in, his nose brushing against your cheek. His lips met yours, soft and hesitant at first, contrasting with the sudden urgency in your touch. He melted into the seat, his hand naturally finding your waist as the kiss deepened.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. The darkness obscured his face, but you could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

"I like how you taste," you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The warmth of his breath brushed your skin as you trailed kisses from his lips to his nose, playfully licking his parted mouth along the way.

Your laughter filled the car when you noticed how flustered he had become. You relished the effect you had on him, thinking about how you might use it to your advantage in the future.

Before Eli could lean in for another kiss, his usual lovesick expression plastered on his face, you leaned closer, your voice dropping to a mischievous whisper.

"I need a favor, if you don't mind.”

...

You stopped in a dark, desolate spot, your hand crazy with sweat as nerves took hold. Elijah could tell you were uneasy about being out in the middle of nowhere.

"El, I don’t want to be alone," you murmured, your voice drowsy but trembling with it all.

He didn’t question it, just as he didn’t even consider leaving you behind. Truthfully, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of braving the rickety gas station alone either, even if it was just to relieve himself.

He nodded, his expression steady, trying to ease the tension in your own. The worry was etched across your face, and Elijah knew you tended to spiral into pessimistic thoughts in situations like this. He couldn’t begin to guess the scenarios playing out in your mind, but he was determined to dispel them.

"Look," he said quickly, color rushing to his cheeks and necks, "I’ll step outside, stay by the car, and just use the tree right here. I won’t go far, I won’t leave your sight, and I’ll shut the door so you’ll still feel safe. Just, uh… don’t look, y’know? That’d be awkward."

You nodded, avoiding his gaze as your hands fumbled for the radio, turning up the volume to drown out any sound from outside. It was a flimsy attempt to preserve the boundary of intimacy, even for something as brief and mundane as this. Still, you couldn’t deny his plan made sense, even if it left you feeling slightly on edge.

—

Part 2 will be posted soon! Promise!

[megjameswrites]

selective mutism (silence is loud)

Daryl/reader, Daryl/OC

MC has selective mutism, which isn’t really a selection after all, and Daryl isn’t so good with the words anyway. How do they deal with him deciding to go with his brother instead of coming back to the prison? Season 3-era

*******

I miss him so much it hurts, a burning ache in my chest, hiding just behind my ribs. Like heartburn, but worse.

Sunrise fades the night from black to navy to pink-edged blue, and I watch from the tower as everyone starts moving around the prison again. Everyone but him, because he isn’t here. He didn’t come back.

He chose his brother over me, and I couldn’t be mad. It wasn’t like we’d made promises, or even so much as said out loud that we liked each other.

Well. That I like him, at least.

But all winter- all winter. The scraps of food on my plate when they shouldn’t have been, the extra blanket or shirt or socks, the silent company on watch, the protective hand on my back-

But he didn’t come back with Rick. He got Maggie and Glenn out, and then he ran off with his asshole brother, the brother Id watched call him useless and worthless over and over, the brother who caused more harm than he did good, the brother-

The brother he loved. The brother he’d mourned. The brother he cared for.

The sky turns blue, the pink fading. Rick wanders to the edge of the field, then outside the gates. Hershel goes to talk to him.

Carol calls my name, asks if I need anything. I shake my head. I don’t think I’ve spoken since Rick came back.

Since he didn’t.

Movement on the road gets my attention, the rifle tracking toward it as I set my eye to the scope, and my blood runs cold. I fire a single shot, the most warning any of us get before they’re on us, lighting the place up and crashing the outer gates and spilling walkers in the yard.

I pick the dead off Rick as best I can, but there’s too many of them, and my pulse pounds in my ears as steady, gnawing horror rises with the certainty that I’m going to watch Rick die through the scope of this gun, uselessly trying to save him.

A bolt blooms in the eye of my next target, a deadly flower, and I freeze.

It’s him. I follow them, picking my shots carefully as they collect Rick, collect Michonne and Hershel, and make their way back. They’re almost to the gate when I fire my last shot.

Right at his feet.

He jerks backwards, eyes wild as he scowls up into the tower.

In the silence below, I hear Rick’s muted laugh and a warning to him that he’d better watch out. I turn back to studying the road, scanning for any sign of the Governor’s people coming back.

He made his choice.

Footsteps on the stairs don’t draw my eye from the scope. I have a job to do, and I’m doing it.

“Hey.”

I ignore him.

He sighs, shifts his feet. He leans on the railing beside me and covers the end of the scope with his hand. I jerk back, shooting him a hot glare before pulling the gun away from him and turning deliberately away.

Fuck him. He chose. And his choice wasn’t us. Wasn’t the group who needed him, who cared for him.

His choice wasn’t me.

“Come on, darlin’. Don’t be like that. I had to. S’my brother. What was I s’posed to do? Leave him behind?”

You left me behind! I want to scream it. I want to rage. But the words freeze somewhere between my mind and my tongue, and I hate it. I hate it, I hate them, I hate him.

I don’t hate him.

He sighs again, reaching slowly for my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I don’t- shit. I ain’t good with words.”

I roll my eyes, but despite how I want to, I can’t pull away. His fingers burn worse than the missing-him, fire on my skin, and I hate that I want to walk into that fire and let it consume me until there’s nothing left.

My eyes fall somewhere near his shoulder, where the strap of his crossbow rests. There’s a stain there, a fingerprint in red-brown-black color. My fingerprint; my blood. It never came off.

Funny how that happens, I think. Funny how some things never come clean, once you touch them.

He grips my arm. “I hurt ya. You never- we never. I ain’t ever said what I think. What I feel. Didn’t think I had to, but- ya didn’t know I’d come back? Ya really so mad ya shooting at me? Come on, darlin’, I-“

I whirl, pulling arm from his grip and dropping the gun as I glare at him.

He holds his hands up for peace, starting to step back. “Ok. I’m sorry. I- I’m sorry. I ain’t good at this. I ain’t good with words, I’m- shit. Screw it,” he mutters, staring at me intensely.

I have only a moment to wonder what he means. Then his hands frame my face, heat searing my cheeks and down to my soul, and his mouth crushes into mine, ash and copper and something else sweeping over me and washing the anger, the bitterness, the pain and the heartbreak away.

He’s all there is, a tidal wave crashing against the rocky surface of me, and as he draws back to stare into my eyes with something akin to fear and wonder in his, he leaves the fire extinguished, the pain soothed, the wound healed.

There are tears in my eyes, and he drops his hands from my cheeks, shoulders hunching as he turns away.

“Aight. I get it. I’d wrong. I- I won’t bother ya none, aight, darlin’? I’ll just-“

I dart forward; grab his hand in both of mine. He turns, surprise in his eyes again, and I study his face before slamming my lips back into his more forcefully than I intended. My hand is in his hair; he gathers me close, up to my toes by my elbow, and-

His forehead leans against mine, eyes open and staring back like they see all the way to my swirling, formless thoughts. He’s silent, waiting, that thing we both excel at stretching between us now.

It isn’t hurried. It isn’t rushed or impatient or awkward. It’s peaceful. Restful.

My eyes close; I sigh. My body relaxes as he pulls me into his shoulder.

“Damn you, Daryl Dixon,” I manage on my second try, my tongue feeling thick in my mouth; the words alien and nearly impossible to shape. “You’re an idiot.”

“I love ya too,” he whispers back, amusement in his voice. “Always do have a way with words, don’t we?”

His arm is warm on my shoulders as night falls, sky sinking blue to purple to black. It’s heavy, a weight that tethers, not crushes. A heat that warms, not burns.

A silence between us that speaks loudly.

[kemendin]

Kem's non-spoilery/non-plot-related impressions on Veilguard:

Now that I finished a first run, I want to just put some thoughts out there - basically likes/dislikes sort of thing. So here we go! In no particular order:

Likes:

This is very subjective of course, but to me it just FEELS like Dragon Age. It's nostalgic in the vibes and mechanics while also being fresh.

Hair physics!! Me gleefully watching my boy's ponytail flipping around like 'yessss gooood'. Every game needs this imo xD

Companions: While I'm personally not going feral over any of them, I do LIKE them all, which is unusual for me. I love the shouted encouragement in combat, and how they move around the Lighthouse and have little snippets of conversations with each other (wish we got MORE of this).

I adore the environments and maps. I love exploring new places in Thedas, they're all so gorgeously detailed, and I love the LAYERS of them. The exploration feels very Assassin's Creed, which is fun for me. Docktown is my favourite I think, but Arlathan and the Crossroads are also stunning.

I'm a sucker for the elven relic puzzles, they make me happy!

Combat: It took a while for me to adjust, particularly coming from BG3 where I had time to deliberate my decisions. But once I got into the rhythm of it, I now find Veilguard combat quite fun. (I played as a sword and shield warrior this first run, I'm excited to see what a mage feels like next time around)

PHOTOMODE!!! At least a third of my playtime has definitely been spent taking screenshots. It has almost everything I want - camera angles, depth of field, field of view. SO MANY SCREENSHOTS! (1800 at last count)

Dislikes:

Save system. Generous auto-saves are great, but I hate how you get bumped to the nearest beacon when you load in, rather than where you actually left off. Also I'm a save scummer so 100 manual saves is not enough lol.

Main menu being the only functional 'pause' button is irritating, especially when trying to get into photomode.

Armour/outfit stuff. I'm sorry but most of the designs are terrible. TERRIBLE. Also there's no dye/tint system, at least Inquisition had SOMETHING to that effect.

Pacing. I feel like the stories in the game had so many good notes, but it felt.... disjointed, like it was just hitting the main beats rather than creating a cohesive narrative flow. Across the board, it felt rushed and shallow in that respect. Also (and maybe this is just a me thing) it felt really difficult to get a handle on the passage of time throughout the game.

Ambivalent: The character creator. Lots of great sliders and options, but also I kinda hate the 'mash three heads together' thing, and I don't know why we need 50 styles of eyelashes instead of, I dunno, more hair options? (also - body hair. Needs body hair)

I may add to this as more thoughts occur, but for now that's what I've got. Overall impression - positive! I had a great time and I'll be replaying for sure.

[allseeinggoggles]

This is a good list, so I thought I could try it myself. Here's my picks:

GUYS

OLIMAR - You've gotta have this guy. He's the main character of the Pikmin series, which has seen a surge of popularity recently. Nintendo it putting Pikmin on the level of Animal Crossing and even Kirby now.

OLIMAR - The Pikmin series is Miyamoto's pet project, they deserve a second rep.

OLIMAR - His name is an anagram of Mario, but with an L, therefore making him more important than Mario.

OLIMAR - Though Olimar himself didn't appear in the Wii to Wii U Data Transfer, his pikmin did. Therefore Olimar serves as a Wii/Wii U rep.

OLIMAR - Olimar does appear in New Play Control! Pikmin and New Play Control! Pikmin 2, both of which were on the Wii.

OLIMAR - I think you could play the New Play Control! games on the Wii U too.

OLIMAR - Gotta get that Alarmo rep in there too.

OLIMAR - He has a family man vibe that I think is sorely lacking in Ultimate's roster. Many will feel represented by this little man.

OLIMAR, OLIMAR, OLIMAR - People who do not feel represented by Olimar will feel represented by his pikmin, which follow him into battle.

OLIMAR, OLIMAR - One minor change, he gets a jetpack from Hey Pikmin.

Barely missed the cut: Mario, Diddy Kong, Luigi, Starfy, Cloud, Sora, Little Mac.

GIRLS

OLIMAR - Didn't you know Olimar is genderfluid? Cause she is.

OLIMAR, OLIMAR, OLIMAR - Bonus fact, Olimar is also bisexual. She loves her wife very much.

OLIMAR - This Olimar is from Pikmin 1 specifically.

OLIMAR - Olimar would be an excellent pick for new players. She has a very simple and easy to understand moveset.

OLIMAR - Olimar loves studying nature, and has the most in-depth Piklopedia entries. It stands to reason she could summon various beasties to fight for her.

OLIMAR - Self explanatory.

OLIMAR - It's weird that she doesn't get rock pikmin in any form in Ultimate. We're changing that, as well as adding Ice, Glow, and Bulbmin.

OLIMAR - One of the most iconic fighters from Melee, it only makes sense to bring her back.

MECHANICA (ARMS) - Gotta get a heavyweight female fighter in there!

OLIMAR, OLIMAR - It might be a little strange doubling up on the Pikmin reps, but it's a pretty big franchise. Some pikmin made it into Super Nintendo World, and I imagine tickets there are very expensive. Thankfully Olimar is loaded thanks to Pikmin 4 selling so much.

OLIMAR - Admittedly this one is a me pick.

Barely missed the cut: Ashley (WarioWare), Ashley Graham, Ashley (Until Dawn), Ashley Banks, Luigi

CREATURES AND CHARACTERS, TYPICALLY PLAYER, OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER (like Pikachu or the Animal Crossing Villager)

OLIMAR - Olimar is in fact a player character, like Animal Crossing Villager.

OLIMAR - I could have placed them in the guys section but my hand slipped.

OLIMAR/LOUIE - They switch out like Pyra/Mythra, only from a game I've played. And less gross.

OLIMAR/LOUIE - They're actually just as gross as Pyra/Mythra, but not for fanservice reasons.

OLIMAR, OLIMAR, OLIMAR - Pokemon is one of the most famous franchises on Earth. Here's three Olimars.

OLIMAR - Remember to hydrate.

OLIMAR - There's tons of moveset potential from Bingo Battle in Pikmin 3. You could even pull some tech from Dandori Missions!

OLIMAR/LOUIE - They fight together like the Ice Climbers, only Louie doesn't attack or move at all.

OLIMAR - It's crazy how we have five (technically six!) Smash Bros games and still don't have Olimar in there at all! Let's fix that.

OLIMAR - For his Final Smash, he brings out Moss.

OLIMAR - This is the most controversial pick in the list. To better represent the unique gameplay of the Pikmin series, I want Olimar to play exactly like from his games, which includes a Z axis, linear health bar, not being thrown when hit, up to 100 pikmin on the field at once, and the jetpack from Hey Pikmin.

Barely missed the cut: No one. There were no other options in all of gaming.

As you can tell, my list is perfect and therefore needs no notes. THank you

A SEMI-REASONABLE 40 CHARACTER SMASH ROSTER

An exercise in indulgence and egoism, and posted as the same.

THE RULES:

1. Characters shall be semi-reasonable! Beatoriche I love you but this needs to be a roster composed of characters who could conceivably actually make it into Smash. They should be from video games, and ideally ones people care about.

2. Characters shall be gender balanced! I separated my picks into four categories: GUYS, GIRLS, and CREATURES AND CHARACTERS, TYPICALLY PLAYER, OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER (like Pikachu or the Animal Crossing Villager). the number of GUYS shall be EQUAL TO OR LESSER THAN the number of GIRLS. I set this restriction on myself and so should you.

3. Characters shall be 40 of them! but you could tell that from the title.

GUYS

MARIO - You have to have this guy. also like it's been like 20+ years since Sunshine can we not give him something other than FLUDD?

DONKEY KONG, LUIGI, NESS, BOWSER, FOX, WARIO - You also have to have these guys. I cut Captain Falcon, as we already had Fox as a Smash original character.

LINK - Someday we will be able to put Link in the CHARACTERS OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER list, but not yet.

KING DEDEDE - Sakurai made this so his faves get a little extra attention. I claim that same right.

SNAKE - Updated for MGSV, naturally.

SONIC (Palette Swap: SHADOW) - I really really don't care about these guys. I kind of actively hate them actually. but they deserve to be here, even if all their moves are the same (turning into a ball and the ball flies at you).

CLOUD - The iconic Final Fantasy pretty boy. Would I prefer Lightning? yeah. but this is the semi-realistic roster.

PHOENIX WRIGHT - I know, preaching to the crowd here. This guy is a tumblr darling behind only his boyfriend Miles Edgeworth. But they've put him in fighting games before! And he totally has a moveset, right? Presenting his badge as a jab, shooting OBJECTION and TAKE THAT! (HOLD IT! is a grab!), submitting paperwork and random items hoping and praying that they'll be accepted as evidence...

Barely missed the cut: Sans Undertale, Sekiro, Shulk, Solaire, Paper Mario, Sora.

GIRLS

SAMUS - You have to have this girl.

PEACH/DAISY - Ideally Daisy would get Luigified (this is the very technical term for when a Smash character starts out as a clone and then gets differentiated) as the Mario Sports Game Representation. But that probably wouldn't happen. Peach is fine. kind of

ZELDA (Breath of the Wild/Tears Of The Kingdom) - The opposite of the Smash Ultimate dynamic. Smash Lscholar Link is old-school Link; Zelda is newer Zelda. Like in Hyrule Warriors she fights using runes on her magic ipad/wii u pad/nintendo switch game console. Bombs, Ice Block, Ultrahand - and the ability to Recall all of them, sending them flying backwards along their trajectories when the attack is reinput. An evil zoner but let's be honest: she already is. Maybe she has a "take a picture" that can stun?

ISABELLE, ROSALINA - both need reworks. Isabelle in particular has the potential to be a Kirby for new players - but hitting with her is so hard that most try her for a round and play Toon Link instead.

BAYONETTA - No notes.

HORNET (Hollow Knight: Silksong) - Clear moveset, fan favorite, zero questions.

D.VA (Overwatch and, fine, Overwatch 2) - The single most popular Overwatch character by far, and a much needed female heavyweight character. Would translate pretty well to Smash as a pushy zippy tank-type.

EDELGARD VON HRESVELG (Fire Emblem: Three Houses/Three Hopes) - big smashy axe, avowed militant atheist, Vriska, Fire Emblem rep. Smash Lsclr's Ike. Slow but dangerous, with surprising range, much like Byleth; unlike Byleth she is an actual character. also her axe twirl has to be a taunt. Also she's canonically bisexual. which would make her the second bisexual smash character after Snake, and the third in my heart after Cloud Strife (Byleth isn't real).

REIMU HAKUREI (Touhou) - Iconic rep from possibly the single most important indie game series.

CHUN LI (STREET FIGHTER) - Honestly surprised they put Ryu in Smash. I feel like if you asked anybody to name a Street Fighter character Chun Li would be first?

UNDYNE (Undertale) - Fine. Susie (Deltarune) is also acceptable.

VI or JINX or SOME LEAGUE OF LEGENDS GIRL (LoL) - as with Sonic I don't care for these but they have undeniably earned their places. Arcane was better than it should have been and I really hope Mel Medarda survives into s2.

SABER (Fate/Stay Night) - It's Saber! I know this seems like a meme pick but I really do think she deserves to be here.

Barely missed the cut: Karlach or Shadowheart, The Silent, Arle Nadja, Vriska

CREATURES AND CHARACTERS, TYPICALLY PLAYER, OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER (like Pikachu or the Animal Crossing Villager)

PIKACHU - You have to have this thing. Brand recognition on par with Santa Claus or Jesus. A creature for sure, even if its tail indicates biological gender.

KIRBY - This is technically a Guy but in practice this is a creature. also I have one less Guy than Girl so I could put him there, but I chose not to.

YOSHI/BIRDO - Put a trans woman in Smash. She's just a Yoshi reskin and that's fine.

MARTH/LUCINA - The other Fire Emblem rep. Why does Awakening get like three characters? may have to make Marth a bit less floaty to make this work but they really should consolidate these two.

POKEMON TRAINER (Charizard, Ivysaur, Squirtle) - good on nintendo for making it possible to play pokemon trainer as a guy or girl.

POKEMON TRAINER 2 (Gengar, Gardevoir, Lucario) - We have so many pokemon and here's three more. swap out one of your choice for Jigglypuff or Mewtwo or Mimikyu or Greninja or whatever, as long as your substitution isn't from Kanto. This pokemon trainer is a bit more of a tryhard, and wears darker clothing. also their pokemon are category balanced: one is a guy, one is a girl, and one is a creature.

INKLING - Kind of a creature and definitely not of either cardinal gender. these kids squids are nonbinary. A good addition to smash; may they goop and bloop for many games to come.

Wii FIT TRAINER - Mix in Wii Sports and Ring Fit and whatever else.

ANIMAL CROSSING VILLAGER/MINECRAFT STEVE AND ALEX/PACMAN AND MS PACMAN - CHARACTERS OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER

NOAH AND MIO XENOBLADE (XENOBLADE 3) - Like Pyra and Mythra but less gross. Mio has faster short range chakram attacks and mobility; Noah has slower harder-hitting moves.

THE ASSASSIN (Assassin's Creed) - Snake represents Solid, Naked, and Venom; why can't The Assassin be Altair, Ezio, and whoever else?

Barely missed the cut: Duck Hunt, Toad/Toadette.

if you got mad at me about removing your favorite character reply and I'll tell you why I took them out. probably because I didn't care about them.