#I'm just not the right person to ask if you're looking to branch out
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dare-to-dm · 2 years ago
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I really liked your posts about D&D and how it's good/bad at certain things — given that I'm a player-turned-DM of several years who's never played any other TTRPG, could you recommend some so that I can get an idea of how to try to improve my game mechanics?
Unfortunately, not really. I'm a DnD/Pathfinder fan girl. I've enjoyed every version of DnD I've ever played more than every other system I've ever tried. So it would be less of a list of recommendations and more of a list of complaints.
That being said, you did ask! So here are the other systems I've tried and what I think about them.
Call of Cthulhu: This game is about normal people investigating mysterious horrors, and I do not like it. It turns out, I just don't enjoy playing people who are incapable of being heroic. Mainly, Call of Cthulhu characters are good at sucking at things, going insane and dying. If you like horror, maybe you'll like this. The only way I could enjoy it was pretending I was a Scooby Doo character so that all my failures were at least slapstick. Which may or may not help with the desired tone.
D20 Modern: This is very similar to D&D, and shares most of it's strengths and weaknesses. I personally liked it. If you've only ever run/played D&D, and you want to try a campaign in a more modern system, this one will not be a difficult adjustment.
Exalted: I personally really hate Exalted. You play a demigod, and that's a big turn off for me because you're so powerful it's not as exciting. Also, you really have to buy into the lore for this game, and that's not something I like in a system. The ruleset is also more set up so that you're bullshitting the results of what you do, rather than giving clear guidelines of how things work out. I'm sorry, I have friends who are fans of this game, but I really don't have anything nice to say about it. I think maybe it would appeal to people who just want to do Rule of Cool all day every day and are okay with learning a bunch of lore.
Mage the Awakening: I remember enjoying Mage the Awakening, though as I'm looking over their website now, it all looks like Greek to me. I may have had a game master who put in a lot of effort to make this the best possible experience for me personally. You play mages, but it's lower power than D&D as magic has a significant cost and can get very complicated. I think it was a D10 system? I don't remember. My character manipulated probability in order to be really good at punching things, which was fun.
Mutants and Masterminds: I've only played this a couple of times, and I'm not sure it even works. Like, it's a classless character creation system where you use point buy to make a dizzying array of superhero characters. Which is fun! But definitely not balanced. I want to like it, but I've never played anything beyond a couple of one shots, and I can't even say that those were successful. It seems like a difficult system to DM.
Starfinder: This is just Pathfinder in space. It's not as well balanced, but it's still good.
Anyway, those are the other systems I've tried, other than a few completely homebrewed systems that aren't published anywhere. I personally would take AD&D (my least favorite version of D&D I've played) over any of them. I don't feel a lot of motivation to venture outside of D&D/Pathfinder, since it gives me what I want. But I'm always willing to try something else (at least once) if a friend wants to run something different.
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poisonlove · 4 months ago
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You² | w.a
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Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader
Wednesday hated Thornhill.
After that encounter in the library, she had done everything to avoid Y/N. Yet, fate seemed to take pleasure in her misfortune: a group activity paired her with the one person who made her feel the most out of place at Nevermore, making her realize just how unlucky she truly was.
After all, she was an Addams; she knew very well that luck was not on their side.
The activity involved collecting the Nightshade Bloom, better known as the Dreamshade Flower. It was an extremely rare plant found only in the Crackstone Forest. She had no idea where in the forest it grew, but she knew it preferred humid spots: probably near the waterfalls or in the Misty Glade.
"Are you sure it's this way?" Y/N asked, looking around with awe.
Wednesday stopped and turned to her partner, an eyebrow raised in disapproval. The question irritated her but when she saw the terror on the girl’s face, she decided to let it go.
"Of course, I'm sure," Wednesday replied in her characteristic monotone voice. She blinked and observed Y/N using her hand like a flashlight to navigate the darkness.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," Y/N justified, her Y/C eyes scanning the surroundings before turning back to Wednesday.
A strange flutter gripped Wednesday's stomach, forcing her to break eye contact. She didn’t like this feeling at all. Experimenting with new emotions, especially ones she didn’t understand, was not her style.
Without saying a word, Wednesday resumed walking, her right hand holding the makeshift torch while her left brushed aside branches that slowed their progress. An unsettling silence enveloped the woods, and Wednesday was oddly grateful for it.
But, of course, Y/N had to break it.
"So... I haven't seen you in the library lately," Y/N began, trying to spark a conversation, a way to distract herself and learn more about the gothic Addams. She had done some research about Wednesday, but her name didn’t appear on any social media, which honestly disappointed her.
Wednesday made a strange sound in her throat.
"I was busy," she replied coldly. It wasn't a lie. She had indeed been occupied writing her story and avoiding the person standing in front of her. She had nothing against Y/N; rather, it was the absence of disdain that bothered her.
"I understand... Enid told me you write a lot... and that you're not exactly a social person" Y/N confessed with a hint of sadness.
Wednesday stopped, noticing how Y/N hesitated to push aside a branch, suddenly halting. Enid? Why were they talking about me? Y/N looked at Wednesday, confusion evident on her face.
"Why were you talking about me?" Wednesday asked, her voice sharp.
Y/N's cheeks flushed.
"Um... I'm participating in the Poe Cup  and she mentioned you... the only member I don't know," she admitted, embarrassment creeping into her tone. The flames in her hand illuminated her Y/C eyes, and Wednesday couldn’t help but think how strikingly attractive she looked in that light.
Quickly, Wednesday averted her gaze and turned away.
Y/N let out a sigh she didn't realize she'd been holding, falling back into step behind Wednesday. Addams pondered Y/N's words, especially the fact that she would be competing in the Poe Cup with them. Honestly, she didn’t want to participate in the tournament again, but the prospect of competing alongside Y/N intrigued her.
"Have you finished reading the book?" Wednesday asked coldly.
She enjoyed the interaction they were having, and a part of her desperately wanted to keep talking to Y/N. Yes, Wednesday Addams, the most antisocial girl at Nevermore, found herself wanting to engage with Y/N.
A huge smile spread across Y/N's face.
"Yes, it was really interesting and helpful for my research," she confessed excitedly, glancing at Wednesday, who observed her from the corner of her eye. The moonlight highlighted Addams' pale skin, and her perfectly arranged braids gave her an air of authority and glamour.
Y/N had developed a small crush on Addams.
"Good," Wednesday murmured in a sharp tone, diverting her gaze from Y/N.
A strange flush crept onto her cheeks, and her heartbeat quickened at the sight of Y/N’s radiant smile. Something was definitely off within her.
She unconsciously rubbed her cheeks.
"Have we arrived?" Y/N asked nervously, her fear growing. She had heard a couple of howls during their trek that made her skin crawl, but seeing Wednesday's calm demeanor made her decide—no, force herself—that everything was under control.
"Yes." Wednesday pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a smile.
It was the third time that night that her lips had inexplicably wanted to stretch into a smile, and each time she held back. She had to maintain her reputation as the gothic weirdo of Nevermore.
The fog enveloped their path, and Wednesday felt relieved to finally reach the Misty Glade. If they were lucky, they might find the damn flower in this area; otherwise, she would have to cross to the other side of Crackstone Forest toward the waterfalls.
Wednesday took off her backpack and pulled a small basket from inside.
"Can you recognize the Nightshade Bloom?" she asked, looking at Y/N. The latter nodded decisively.
Y/N walked opposite Wednesday, scanning the ground for any signs of light, hoping to spot the flower.
Meanwhile, Wednesday delved deeper into the mist, focusing on finding the blooms.
(...)
Wednesday crouched down and carefully picked the flower, trying not to damage its luminescent petals. She placed it in the basket alongside the others and walked toward another damp area. Half an hour had passed since the search began, and Wednesday felt increasingly uncomfortable in the oppressive silence.
Where on earth were you?
"Y/N?" she called loudly.
All she received in response was a howl. What if you were in danger? Wednesday gripped the basket tightly and scanned the surroundings, determined to spot you, abandoning her task of collecting more flowers.
Her feet moved westward as she squinted, trying to extend her field of vision, but the damned fog was too thick. A strange sensation settled in her chest, something that edged on fear. But she wasn't scared; she was... uncomfortable due to your silence?
"Y/N, if this is a joke, it’s not funny!" Wednesday exclaimed loudly, looking around with heightened vigilance. Her heartbeat quickened.
The worst scenarios flashed in her mind, prompting her to quicken her pace.
"Ahhhhh!" you screamed.
Wednesday's eyes widened, and she raced toward the sound of your cry. Something had gone wrong. The brunette increased her running speed, breathing heavily, a strange light contrasting with the darkness of the forest.
"What happened?" she asked breathlessly upon arrival.
Y/N was sitting on the ground, an enormous smile plastered across her face as she held the Nightshade Bloom in her hands. Her Y/C eyes met Wednesday's, shining with pure happiness.
"I found my first flower!" she exclaimed, beaming.
Wednesday let out an exasperated sigh, and at that moment, she wanted to strangle Y/N with her bare hands. Had she run for nothing? Was it merely a scream of joy? Her expression softened as she watched you approach, curiosity written all over your face, your eyes sparkling as they scanned her basket.
"What? You’ve already found six?!" Y/N exclaimed in surprise.
Wednesday couldn't help but smile, a spontaneous and genuine smile that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The dimples were evident as her lips curved, making Y/N wonder how something so beautiful could be so rarely seen.
Just like the Nightshade Bloom.
Wednesday felt relieved to see Y/N safe, and despite a part of her wanting to kill her for making her think the worst, another part couldn’t shake the memory of the enthusiasm radiating from her for finding the flower.
She would let this incident slide, simply because it was you.
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queers-gambit · 4 months ago
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Shadows of the Past
prompt: the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.
pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader
fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power
word count: 5.1k+
note: wonky brain can think of nothing but this show right now i'm so sorry
warnings: cursing, spoilers, another reader insert for the haters, depiction of character injury, emotions are hard, small canon complicit angst, literal hurt and comfort, established relationship.
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"Tell me again," your brother-in-law asked, "why you're not leading this company?"
You smirked, stepping over a fallen branch, "Because the High King has bestowed the honor to Herald Elrond, Daenor."
"Then why enlist you, too?"
"I am a mere emissary of the King. Besides, skills are required for this quest, Daenor, why would I not be employed?"
"Right, of course. I guess my question should be, what skills do you possess?" He teased, laughing when you shoved his shoulder playfully. "But truly," he asked, "why would the King send you both, so close to your wedding day? Why send you, too, if not to lead this company?" However, before you could answer, the air turned serious when the procession you followed came to a rather disturbing discovery upon the laid path.
You leaned on the intact stone while listening to Camnir discuss with Elrond possible paths forward after intending to cross a bridge over the gorge, only to find it in ruins and rubble. Elrond originally questioned the force that could've brought the ancient stone down in such a harsh and violent manner, thinking perhaps lightning, but another voice refuted this idea by claiming it was the Dark Lord, Sauron.
This familiar voice was that of Lady Galadriel - and while you've known her to be a fellow Commander, you were unsure of her title now. Yes, she was technically lieutenant of this company, and that was what she was addressed as, but you knew how stubborn the Elleth was and that she would not be so easily demoted.
You said nothing. You just listened as Camnir told Elrond they could take one of two paths: one so out of the way, it would add two weeks to their journey, and the other, down the same darkened path the Dark Lord laid.
Upon mentioning the path before them through the Hills of Tyrn Gorthad, Lady Galadriel twitched. She had been daintily ghosting her fingertips over the charred and mangled metal of the lanterns set on the imploded bridge, seemingly stuck in thought, then freezing. You couldn't see her face, only taking note of the brisk tension mounting in the Elleth's shoulders.
She spoke, "There is evil in those hills." The group shared silent looks, each with varying degrees of mistrust or caution. "Ancient, and full with malice," Galadriel glared at the landscape before her. "Sauron means for us to go that way. We must go another," She informed the group as if she were in a position to give orders.
From the crouch he took to observe the damage done to the stone, Elrond rose while speaking in a firm tone that overpowered the Lady's, "The Enemy is doubtless watching both roads." His eyes flickered over yours last as jetting over each of his soldiers, clocking the way you nodded in agreement. To you, it seemed common sense: of course, the bad guy was watching the paths that would lead the good guys to him! He was evil, not stupid! Elrond reminded his people, "This collapse makes it more critical than ever to reach Celebrimbor at speed."
"We won't reach anywhere with speed if we walk into a trap," Galadriel argued; the two friends (and distant cousins) held each other's even stare for several moments.
"What say you, Commander?" You asked, hoping to break the tension and little trance they were locked in. No, no, not out of jealousy, but out of protectiveness; wanting to break the ice for the sake of Elrond's authority.
"We go South," Elrond decided, turning from the fragmented bridge stump, ready to lead his company on, when Galadriel spoke again - from the same spot she had yet to move from.
"Commander, I must protest."
You did not move when the others did, you waited when Elrond paused and replied, "Your opinion on the matter has been heard."
He went to walk away again when Galadriel growled with a rolling tongue, "Elrond!"
You flinched to a halt in blinding irritation, upset by your peer's very audacity. Everyone halted around you, Camnir even shifting in his stance out of nervousness from the heat of your glare not on him. Your fiancé turned back to glare at his friend, ending with finality, "Opinion heard, lieutenant. We go South." He gave an encouraging command in Sindarin, leading only a few strides before pausing. When you automatically halted yourself at his side, he nodded and spoke softly while seemingly mindlessly grabbing your hand to give an affectionate and reassuring squeeze, "Lead them on, love, stay on the trail."
You glanced back at Galadriel, who was finally moving to keep up, and whispered for only his ears, "You sure?"
"I'm sure, go on," he confirmed, nodding again and offering a soft sort of half-smirk. His eyes, though, were squinted; indicating he was genuine in his displayed gentleness. With a squeeze to his hand, you offered one last stale look at Galadriel, who expertly avoided your eyes, then let go and walked forward to lead the way.
Behind you, Elrond snarled his scolding of Galadriel, insisting she shape up, forgo trust in the Ring of Power she wore, and if that wasn't possible, she needed to excuse herself. The Commander of the Northern Armies rebutdtaled that she did not desire to see any member of the company slain - a veiled response to her stubbornness to not abandon their quest and refusal to ignore her ring.
Forward, you marched.
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Though you seldom showed it, you felt fearfully nervous when the night fell and your company crept further into what felt like infected wood. The ground turned spongey, a particular stench permeated the air, the darkness shadowed most all you saw. The trees loomed tall, the moon casted a bright silver light, and dead leaves crunched under booted, lithe steps. Elrond shared a nervous look with you, his hand only briefly brushing yours; a way to say he was there with you without being overly affectionate in front of his soldiers.
From the corner of his eye, Elrond saw your head tilt back in wonder before a fell voice hissed on the wind, "I am waiting for you." But in truth, nobody was sure about what they heard or did not hear. Perhaps they did not want to know, but still, the voice made the area further darken in suspicion, and once in a small clearing, all came to a halt to survey the surrounding area. There was a threat somewhere, but where exactly was yet to be determined.
Daenor questioned sharply, "What is this place?"
"Tyrn Gorthad," Camnir answered. "Known to men as the Barrow-downs."
You chimed in softly, "In ancient days, this was where they laid their lords and kings to rest."
"I feel no rest here," Daenor grumbled. "Even the trees seem ill at ease."
"Fear not," Vorohil chimed in, sounding amused while stepping up to (and through) your group's observation deck. "Dead men are no threat."
"Well, we've lived very different lives," you scoffed under your breath.
However, after Vorohil, Elrond followed; casting a look at the lot of you and reminding, "Keep moving."
You let the others pass ahead of you, trying to shake off your nerves and mentally prepare yourself for the hell you were walking into. Something anchored your feet, refusing to let go; every nerve in your body on fire and begging you not to wade into the dark. Your name was spoken gently, Galadriel's hand on your shoulder startling you.
"What is it?" She asked quietly.
"We shouldn't be here," you whispered, Elrond doubling back when he noted your delay. Not wanting a confrontation, Galadriel sighed and patted your shoulder before slipping away as your lover approached you.
"Are you alright?" He asked softly but urgently.
"There's something sinister here," you told him stiffly, stepping half a step closer, "watching us."
He took a breath, "If Galadriel's ring - "
"It's not that!" You insisted. "I feel it, Elrond, not the ring, not anything Galadriel said. I feel it."
Elrond's brows furrowed at the tips, like something hooked them to yank towards his nose. "Then stay close to me," he decided.
"We should move on, quickly," you snatched his hand to prevent him from parting; his gaze turning worried. "Please, listen to me."
"My love," he spoke softly, squeezing your hand, "it is a gravesite, nothing more. The dead cannot harm us."
"It is the living's influence I fear."
He sighed and nodded, "We will not linger." His forehead found yours to rest, "But do not stray from my side, it is of great comfort."
"To us both," you agreed, letting him pull back. Yet he did not relinquish hold of your hand, keeping it tight in his and leading you into the clearing the others were surveying.
"Commanders," Rían called, standing over the corpses of two horses... Attacked seemingly a time ago, and upon inspection, discovered the pairing bodily remains of an Elvish party.
Elrond questioned your name when you squatted, brushing aside debris. "Their barding is from Lindon," you told him, gently ghosting the leather with your touch. You looked up to meet his eyes, glancing over to see Galadriel, predicting, "The King sent a dispatch to warn Celebrimbor."
Galadriel nodded in confirmation as Rían discovered the encased message from the King in a decorative tube, asking, "This dispatch?"
Slowly, you stood from your position and held a silent hand out, being given the tube for inspection; all eyes on you, waiting for whatever your overly keen (even for an Elf) eyes would see. After confirming the contents, your eyes locked with Galadriel's, and she spoke what you both were thinking: "We must go from this place."
Elrond appeared ready to agree, tension mounting as your company seemingly felt the blanket of panic being thrown over them all. From the dark, a set of rotting chains shot out to coil around Daemor, yanking him into the toxic, spongey earth and across the clearing.
"Y/N!" He shouted in shock, and without thinking, your hands slapped into his as if in an effort to anchor him... But you were both yanked off your feet. "Commander!"
"Daenor! NO!"
"Help me! Y/N, Y/N, please!"
"Hold onto me!" You begged, being drug on your belly.
"Sister! Sister, please, help me! Help me!" He sobbed in fear, a vice grip on your wrists and hands surely to leave blemishes. "Don't let go! Pl-eeeeeaaaaaase!"
"Daenor!" You whimpered, struggling as the force that held you both hostage was too strong to maintain a safe, secure hold permanently - meaning, saving him was futile.
Your name was bellowed, being drug towards one of the opened tombs; but at the last moment, the tether that kept you and Daenor together was broken and he was pulled into the abyss of the grave. You whimpered in fear, slowly lifting from your belly and to your knees as Daenor's screams were silenced... In fact, the entire area turned eerily quiet.
Behind you, the others rushed to the scene and Elrond immediately dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around you. "Are you hurt? Hey, hey, look at me, are you hurt?" He demanded, fearful that the chains might shoot out again to finish the job to swallow you in the dark. He checked for any physical injury, but the tension was too great to ignore; the mouth of the tomb glaring at you, forcing Elrond to silence himself.
You flinched back into his hold when the gruesome sounds of crunching bone and squelching flesh was heard; indicating whatever was inside, whatever claimed Daenor, had disposed of his living body.
Elrond took advantage of your flinch to rock you back onto your feet, standing as a group as a voice hissed, "Cold old be hand and heart and bone, And cold be sleep under stone, Never more to wake on stony bed, Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead." Galadriel brandished her sword as the wights first emerged, revealing their zombified forms. You encouraged the group to form together in a circle as the demons emerged. The Voice continued, "In the black wind, the stars shall die."
"Prepare yourselves," Galadriel warned, the group arming themselves.
"What are they?" Rían trembled.
From perfectly between Galadriel and Elrond, you answered, "They are those who laid in the tombs, the Lords and Kings of old... Lore calls them Barrow-wights."
The creatures surrounded your company, leering, growling, sizing you up. In Sindarin, Elrond commanded, "Attack!"
In tandem, the group lunged; weapons striking the ghoulish foes but they merely disintegrated in air... Then reformed. It seemed that fighting only served to irritate the enemies, their collective hissing and screeching making stomachs curl and skin to prickle in fear. Galadriel clocked this first, warning Rían, "Still your arrow!"
But the Elleth was already locked and loaded, the string slipping from her grip to fire at a distant wight. But it only soared through the zombie's face, not stopping, directing towards Camnir - but Elrond intercepted, swiping his sword to cut its path and save his soldier. The creature rejuvenated.
"They're impervious to our weapons," Camnir voiced, fear inking his tone.
Elrond's eyes found yours, seemingly connected by a string of similar thought; remembering the old wives tales you once read a lifetime ago, ancient lore about Barrow-wights dating back to the time of Melkor. So, he sheathed his sword and told his soldiers, "Hold fast." To Camnir, the closest to him, he demanded, "Come with me!"
"Where are you going?"
"Help me open it," Elrond told him, trying to pry open the sealed tomb as you swiped at another wight's skeletal hand reaching for you.
"What?"
"Hurry!" Elrond barked in Sandarin.
Back in your group, Rían muttered nervously, "Commander?"
"Ease yourself, remain calm..."
"What do we do?"
"Make no sudden movements. Stay together, fend them off but don't engage a fight," you advised, "hold strong - "
A gasp cut off your words when chains coiled around your ankle; securing in a tight zip that knocked you off balance and back into the toxic dirt. You scrambled for purchase on anything, finding only wet leaves; and suddenly, the chain turned taunt with tension before you were being sucked back into another tomb.
"Commander!" Vorohil shouted, trying to reach for you, but just missing as you were reeled back over the dirt.
"Y/N!" Rían cried, alerting Elrond and Camnir of your situation. You whimpered in fear, sobbing as you couldn't fight the force; couldn't save yourself; only able to helplessly submit to your approaching doom after clawing unsuccessfully for salvation.
"No! No!" You yelped, trying to remove the chains, but another tightened around the first chain in a horribly tight, vice grip that strangled breath from your lungs from the pure burning sting. With the last of your air, you screamed, "Elrond! Please!"
You heard Vorohil sprinting after you, freezing in your escape attempt when a grisly, decayed hand extended from the ebony shadow of the tomb towards you. There was a panicked finality to your blood, fear clogging rational thought; never seeing Elrond, only focused on the threat pulling you in. But the half-Elf you meant to marry in only a few weeks time came surging onto the scene, sliding on his knees at the mouth of the tomb and swinging a sword to sever both hand and chains.
"Y/N - "
"Fuck's sake!" You snarled, unintentionally cutting Elrond off; shoving the chains from your leg, scrambling to your feet.
You were just about to thank Elrond when he instead encouraged, "Here, take this." He held out one of the ancient weapons excavated from the tomb, nodding with increased vigor before turning away when it was in your grip. You hacked and stabbed the wight that came after you, Elrond and Camnir tossing the rest of the company weapons to cast down the surrounding enemies.
"How?" Rían asked in shock, seeing the wisps of the last wights waft into the wind.
"According to lore, only the blades with which they were buried with will return such creatures to rest," Elrond explained.
"But the men buried here have been entombed for over a thousand years," Camnir trembled, turning to his companion.
Vorohil seethed, "I think it is safe to say that something has awoken them."
"No," Galadriel argued, glaring down at the wight's decaying body. "Someone... Awakening evil. Across all Middle-earth."
You ignored the conversation and slowly took a seat; leaving your weapon in the dirt while focusing on hiking up your trouser leg after discarding your boot. With a clenched jaw, you revealed the wight's chains left sizzling lacerations; the metal seemingly enchanted to burn damn near to the bone, creating craters, indentations, dimples to your otherwise pure and unblemished flesh.
You winced when fabric stuck to the wound, bearing your teeth while hissing through them; breathing turning staggered as the pain became biting. "Commander?" You heard Camnir question softly with concern, others turning to set their attention on you.
"It's nothing," you insisted, observing the wound and deciding a tourniquet was required.
"You're hurt," Elrond growled, surging forward and unintentionally knocking Galadriel's shoulder - but the Elleth didn't take offense. The others wanted to close in around you, but Galadriel held them back after witnessing you before. As Commander of the Southern Armies, you had seen many battles with Galadriel, and sometimes, you sustained injury; she's witnessed how you turned akin to a panicked animal when accosted with attention - no matter how genuine the concern.
"It's nothing," you repeated, reaching for one of your belts, "I'm fine."
"You're not - "
"It's a burn, Elrond, nothing more," you sniffled, feeling how far up the chain had gone; deciding to tie the tourniquet above your knee.
"Let me," Elrond whispered, laying his hands over yours that shook and trembled without abandon.
"Elrond - "
"Just," he snipped, needing to pause and take a breath, "please, let me help you."
Behind him, Galadriel ushered the others away to a short distance; deciding to gather whatever belongings of Daenor they could to honor his lost life. You met Elrond's worried gaze and nodded, sniffling, "Okay. J-Just above the knee, here," you showed him.
"I know, love, I've got yah," he breathed, shuffling closer and kneeling beside you while taking the belt. You pulled the material of your trousers straight, grimacing when Elrond first wrapped the leather around your thigh. "All right?" He checked, seeing you nod rapidly; no words used because you were holding your breath to prevent yourself from crying out. When Elrond first tied the leather, you whimpered and his eyes turned teary. "It's gonna get worse, love, just hang on f'me - " He warned you before suddenly tightening the tourniquet, making you yelp painfully. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I know it hurts, I know, I know, I'm so sorry," he repeated, your hands latching onto his forearms out of subconscious need to feel him for comfort while he secured the leather belt. When done, he reached for your cheeks and pet hair that escaped your braids behind your ears, encouraging, "Breathe for me, just breathe, love. You're all right, there you go. Breathe. Good, good, I've got you, I'm so sorry, just breathe, just breathe... Oh, I, uh..."
"What's wrong?" You worried when he trailed off; eyes full of tears and his mouth half opening while retracting his hands that you held by his wrists still.
"I've blood on my hands..." He splayed them in display between you two.
"It's okay - "
"Got it on your face," he frowned.
"It's fine," you insisted, sniffling sadly, "it's my blood, anyway. We should be moving - "
"You're hurt."
"I know, but it's not life threatening, I don't need coddled."
"I'm not coddling you - "
"You are," you half smirked, "because you're worried."
"Of course, I am," he scoffed, using his sleeve to wipe your cheeks and temples free of blood. "How can I not be? You..." His voice quaked with emotion, "You are my starlight, my fairest friend, my sweetest love. Seeing you hurt..."
"I know," you whispered, bringing him close so your foreheads met, "but I'm okay."
"For now."
You sighed, pulling back to respond, "Don't say that, don't even think it. Optimism is our only friend in this situation, else, what is the point of going after Sauron?"
He needed to take a breath, sniffling his own emotion. "Fine. We should rest until morning... Regroup, give you time off this leg for now."
You nodded, "You sure?"
"I think we could all use the reprieve," he admitted.
"Does that include you?" You asked while caressing the coils of chestnut off his forehead.
"I'm fine - "
"As I am?"
Elrond paused, then scoffed a small laugh and nodded. "I'm managing..." He trailed off, shaking his head.
"Hey," you whispered, bringing him back to your forehead, "you're doing an excellent job of leading this company. But we all have limits and tonight was a lot, you deserve the time to breathe."
"Time is something we don't have."
"We have enough for now," you insisted, more or less forcing Elrond to relent.
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As Daenor's belongings were pulled from the tomb and buried in the scorched earth his killers had rose from, the company each offered you hollowed words of condolences for your loss. Beside Elrond, it was known, you and your brother-in-law were great friends - being the reason he met and eventually married your sister. His sword was embedded in the ground as a marker, the company gathered to silently pay their respects while their commander stood at the riverbed's edge in deep, solemn contemplation.
You held one of his daggers, intending to keep it in reminder; pocketing a few pieces of jewelry, intending to give it to his wife. However, all was interrupted when from a distance, you heard the booming rumble of drums. Not just any drums, but the beating sounds of a marching procession; something ominous and daunting. You perked up, standing to your feet as something dark and familiar started in your chest before sinking to your gut. By looks of your company, they, too, heard the drums and shared your worried thoughts; sheathing Daenor's dagger to your belt and surging for where Elrond stood speaking to Galadriel.
"Forgive my intrusion," you bid the pair, Elrond turning instantly.
"Are you all right?" His hand reached for your hip instantly, trying to help stabilize you - if you had been off balance.
Your hand laid to his cheek, answering swiftly, "I'm fine," before dropping your hand to rest on his bicep, "but we've heard drums - in the deep. Sounds like there's a host on the march."
This sent the company into action, tracking the sound of the enemy over leagues of wooded area. By the end of the day, at dusk, you all gathered slowly on a darkened clifftop; watching in horror as legions of orcs marched down the beaten path to the sounds of their war drums. "Orc treachery," Rían cursed upon sight.
"That trail...?" Elrond questioned, letting go of his secure hold on you to lower in a squat, "I gather it leads to - "
"Eregion, my liege," Camnir confirmed.
"We came in search of Sauron," Vorohil narrated everyone's thought and question, "And instead, we find Adar?"
"Could they be in league with each other or... Perhaps at war," Elrond thought aloud, you shifting on your bad leg for a moment to readjust your stance among the trees.
"A legion of Orcs have marched into Elvish lands," Galadriel spat in anger, glaring at Elrond. "We are all of us at war."
Elrond agreed, "Word of this must reach the High King before our host sails for Mordor."
The silence was calm in a resolute sort of way, everyone just pausing to bask in their shock and awe. This was shattered when a distant Orc shouted, "There!" An arrow thunked into the trunk of the tree behind you, a horse neighing shrilly as it galloped through the forrest towards freedom and away from its pursuers. Just as the company turned to face the enemy, another arrow flew through the air almost inconspicuously, finding its mark in the soft part of your chest just beneath your sternum.
You grunted when the arrow landed, taking half a step back and wanting to cry out. Instead, you just held where the arrow embedded itself in your flesh. You felt dizzy suddenly, clothes and hand saturating with blood as the arrow had pierced through the aorta artery to cause major damage. Irreparable damage. Fatal damage...
In a whisper, Elrond told his soldiers in Sindarin, "Hold!"
In the distance, the Orcs were heard complaining about the horse escaping while a few random arrows were fired off again in a last ditch effort to wound the animal. If you did not move, the mangey creatures did not notice, smell, or sense you. But you couldn't form a full coherent thought, just understanding your injury, the looming grace of Death soon to kiss you, that breath was becoming increasingly harder to come by, and the pain - the pain was aching, soon spiking.
You did not mean to, but your fear was too great to ignore, and you stuttered in a whimpered gasp, "El-Elrond?"
His head snapped over, seeing the arrow protruding from your chest and feeling himself crumble inside. You were choking on blood, trying to remain silent - and they all saw that effort. How blood came splattering from your nose as you tried to subdue your noise, but that only made it harder to breathe; inadvertently choking, a groan strangled from your lungs just as Elrond reached you. He held you to him with his chest and single arm anchoring your waist, the other lifting to lay his hand over your mouth as Galadriel glued to your other side for added support.
The company moved back several yards, covering ground swiftly before laying you down behind a natural outcropping of protective rock. You were struggling, unable to fight it any longer; hacking a cough, blood spewing, splattering, streaking down your neck, the pain insurmountable. Elrond's one hand cushioned under your head, tears in his eyes as he could only hold you as the Orcs were heard closing in, other hand once more clasping over your mouth.
Still, Galadriel was sandwiching you, wincing when Elrond's hand stifled your groans of pain as he strained himself to peak over the top of the rocks. When he lowered himself, your lover leaned his forehead on your temple and hushed in your ear, "I'm so sorry." Upon lifting, he met Galadriel's eyes, who had been examining your wound, only to find her's full of sadness. Her head shook with muted words - telling him whatever she saw wasn't good.
You whimpered lightly. The Orcs could smell an Elf.
You wrangled Elrond's hand from your mouth, "Lis-Listen to me - "
"Hush, do not - "
"Shut up and listen!" You hissed, keeping hold of his hand, "'M not makin' it outta this, love, you've gotta go. L-Leave me - "
"No!"
"Elrond. Leave me," you insisted, "and they'll k-know 's m-me they smell. Y-You have t'warn the H-High King."
"I'm not leaving you," Elrond grit.
You smiled sadly, "And I love y-you for that. B-But you h-have t-t-to."
"Not in this lifetime," he begged, a few tears falling. "Just give me time to think, I'll figure something out."
"Time... Is something we don't have," you repeated his words from earlier. Suddenly, Galadriel just knew something without words; a feeling; a sort of understanding that she could help in this moment. She heard you whisper, "I'm so sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. W-We should've had so much more time - "
"Please, don't say that," Elrond begged quietly.
Galadriel took a sobering breath and moved her hands to the base of the arrow; pressing enough to make you wince and breath in sharply. Elrond went to tell her to back off, but paused when The Ring of Power she wore twinkled in the dark night - seemingly pulling you out of that fatal twilight. Your breathing turned slow... Eyes clearing of hazy pain... Life breathing back into your flesh...
The arrow fell out, making all three of you gasp. Galadriel's hands fell away as your own shot to where your wound had been - finding it healed between the fabric the arrow tore. You looked at the Elleth in shock, breathing, "You healed me...?"
She just nodded, Vorohil speaking in astonished Sindarin, "Amazing."
"You're - You're, you are - ?" Elrond stuttered in shock.
"I'm okay," you confirmed, caressing his cheek as he beamed down at you in pure glee. "I'm okay, love, I'm okay; Galadriel, she healed me," you sniffled, looking to your friend. "Thank you, my friend."
"Of course," she breathed, the Orcs heard shouting in the distance to overturn every rock. With a look of shared understanding, Galadriel told Elrond over your body while you tried to mop up some blood, "Get to Lindon. I will occupy them as long as I am able. Get her up."
Elrond huffed through his nose, but did as bid - not like he needed to even be told in the first place. He gathered you into himself and stood, making sure you were stable before looking back at Galadriel; slowly squatting again as she wriggled the ring from her finger. "Take it," she breathed, presenting Elrond with the band of jewelry. When he made no move, she snatched his hand and folded the ring into his grasp, "Take it, Elrond!"
"What will you do?" He asked begrudgingly, storing the ring in a leather pouch for safety.
"Something foolish, probably," she smirked, nodding in meaning. "Now, go. Go!"
"Elrond, love," you whispered, holding your hand out for his and heaving him to his feet. "With me, c'mon, quickly," you advised the others, beginning the trek down a new path in the woods. As you moved, you realized that Galadriel's ring hadn't just healed the arrow wound, but the Barrow-wight's chain, as well, which helps remedy your limp.
A semi-safe distance away, there came a decently loud and abrupt boom behind you, and upon looking, saw the trees up in flames. It was where Galadriel must've been battling the Orcs alone.
In earnest impression, Camnir narrated, "She scarified herself to save us all."
Elrond came to a halt when he realized his company members were captivated by the sight of heroics in action. So he interrupted their dreamy thoughts by calling, "No, you are mistaken, Camnir." He stalked forward through his delegates, telling them in their native tongue, "She did not do it to save us."
Tension simmered over each member.
"What?" Camnir questioned.
Elrond turned away from the spectacle with Galadriel's fire, consulting the dark again, speaking with ramped distain in Sandarin, "She did it to save the ring." His hand reached for yours again, the two of you leading the company forward with him calling over his shoulder in the Common Tongue, "Hurry!"
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requesting rules and masterlist
TROP masterlist
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mischievousmoony · 6 months ago
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hi i saw your request were open, and i really love you’re work and i was wondering if you could do something with james where the reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. and james always knows what she says and its kinda just fluffy? no worries if you don’t want to write!! have an amazing night/day
- 🪷
is this my first emoji anon? 🤭 thank u love, i had a lot of fun with this request
𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚞𝚙
⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: not bully per say but other students are rude, fluff
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"Miss. Y/L/N, have you found a group to work with?" Professor McGonagall asks as students around you huddle in groups of four whilst you stand alone at your desk, packing your things.
You mumble a response as you stuff your books into your bag, attempting to flee the scene as fast as possible. It wasn't anything to do with Professor McGonagall, but rather the fact that you always felt a little scrutinized when talking to anyone in a position of authority.
McGonagall squints as she tries to decipher your words. She finds herself having to make a guess.
"If not, I am more than happy to assist in finding–"
"She's with us, Professor!" James jogs over, returning from enlisting members for your group. As you straighten out your leafs of parchment, James starts packing away your ink and quill for you.
"And 'us' entails?" Professor McGonagall questions.
With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, James gestures to a pair of Ravenclaws standing by the door.
"Very well," McGonagall hums in approval before walking off to ensure any other stragglers have found a group before they depart.
James would prefer to have Sirius and Remus as the other half of your group, but McGonagall has permanently banned James and Sirius from working together ever since they turned a simple demonstration into their own personal stand up comedy gig, resulting in some arguably intentional mishaps in their spellwork.
You've just latched your bag closed when James takes it from you and slings it over his shoulder without giving it much thought. He’s always absentmindedly doing you little favors, like it's his second nature.
"So, Cody has nothing better to do on a Friday night, why am I not surprised?" James says teasingly. "He’s insisting we hit the library and get a head start on the project. You free right now?"
"I'm free," you confirm, looking over James' shoulder at your group mates.
You hate group projects for a multitude of reasons. At least with most Ravenclaws— especially the two you're partnered with, Cody and Isla— you don't have to worry about them not carrying their weight.
This makes your main concern having to work with people you don't know that well. All you did know about them is that they're the kind of Ravenclaws that other Ravenclaws say give them a bad rap. They have a raging superiority complex, and you’d be surprised that James is okay to work with them if you didn't know him. That boy thinks he can make a friend out of anyone, save for some rivals he has in Slytherin.
So, you’re mostly surprised that they want to work with the two of you, but that probably has something to do with James being at the top of the class. Otherwise, they wouldn't normally branch out to students outside of their house.
You suddenly feel uneasy, realizing that for this project, you’ll be the student that the others are weary of not pulling their weight. You feel your hands get clammy over the potential judgement running through Cody and Isla's heads as James leads you over to them.
"Are we going or what?" Cody asks rather unmannerly.
James opens the door for everyone, "Lead the way."
You filter out into the hallway. Soon, the four of you fall in step with each other as James throws an arm around your shoulders.
"How long are we planning to spend on this today?" Isla asks.
"Well, if we dedicate the afternoon to it, we could get all of the research out of the way in one go." Cody responds.
James meets your eye with a sideways glance, and an entire conversation is shared through a couple facial expressions.
His lips curl into a knowing half-smile, See? No plans.
Your eyes twitch with amusement before they shift toward the pair. A microscopic scrunch of your nose conveys, I don't want to spend the whole day with these people.
His face contorts, Me neither, and he shakes his head, we can't anyway.
Your head tilts curiously.
"We have plans later," James verbalizes.
"We do?"
“Sirius got his record player repaired.” James smirks, “And I may have some butterbeer and a certain record waiting for us back at my dorm.”
Your eyes widen with excitement, “James, you didn’t!”
“Oh, but I did.” James says proudly.
“Sorry,” Cody interrupts, “you can’t work on the project tonight because you have to go listen to music?” Cody asks, and the rhetoric nature and judgmental tone are lost on you.
You dive into an explanation on how it’s not just any music, but your favorite band’s brand album. And not just that, but the limited edition record complete with bonus tracks not available anywhere else.
The record was wildly out of your budget and although record stores far and wide all received copies, they didn’t receive very many. You had accepted that you would likely never get your hands on a copy, but you hadn’t accounted for James’ readiness to move mountains at your whim.
You excitedly speak about your favorite band and everything you know about the new record, and it’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough. James listens intently, grinning widely and nodding along with your every word, interjecting occasionally with commentary of his own. You're too busy raving to notice the shared look between Cody and Isla.
"Is this supposed to be a private conversation or are we expected to understand you?" Isla sneers as the four of you reach the library doors.
James' grin falters as watches your excitement fade. You mumble out an apology, which James found completely unnecessary.
His tone flattens out from amused to deadpanned as he addresses Cody's earlier question, both to alleviate some attention from you and to deliberately ignore Isla, "We'll stay for an hour, maybe two. But after that, yeah, we're going to go listen to music with our friends."
Ever the gentleman, even when annoyed, he holds the library's door open for everyone. He eyes the back of Isla's head with offense as she passes, but his eyes soften when you walk through next.
The four of you quickly find a table, as not many are occupied to begin with.
James musters up a semblance of professionalism as he forces himself to stop glaring at Isla as she and Cody begin to discuss a plan for the project. Cody takes it upon himself to divide up areas of research without consulting the rest of the table.
"Hold on," James' brows furrow at his audacity, "What if I don't want to be in charge of researching the wand mechanics? And Y/N has an exceptional understanding of magical theory, she should be in charge of the magical formulas."
Cody and Isla's eyes fall on you and this time you don't miss their criticism.
"You have an exceptional understanding of magical theory?" Isla's face contorts into that familiar sneer.
James doesn't try to hide the way he rolls his eyes. He nudges you, "What was it you were saying earlier? The idea you had for the project?"
You gulp before you dive into an explanation. It feels like Cody and Isla were burning holes through you with their stares, so you try to distract yourself by gazing down at your hands as you them wring together.
In the middle of your explanation—
"Couldn't you at least look up so that I might have a chance at reading your lips?" Cody grumbles.
If looks could kill, James Potter would be a wanted man.
"S- sorry," you practically squeak. You do look up, but the glare on Cody's face intimidates you into mumbling even more. Even the most skilled lip reader wouldn't have a clue as to what you are saying.
"Merlin, could you just speak up?" Cody snaps his fingers in your face and your words die in your throat.
James suddenly wishes he had a beater's bat handy.
"Oi! Get your hand outta her face!" He raises his voice to levels that would surely attract Madam Pince's shushing any minute.
Cody retracts his hand but stands by his actions, "We'll hardly get anything done today if she can't even speak clearly. How do you expect me to deal with this?"
"Alright then, new plan," James says through gritted teeth. He stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes loudly across the floor as it shoved back by his sudden ascent. "The two of us will research the wand mechanics and magical formulas on our own, you two can have the rest. I'll let you know where we'll go from there next class."
James' hand finds yours in a grip that is surprisingly gentle considering the way he is currently conducting himself. He tugs on your hand, prompting you to rise from your own seat.
"You're just going to leave?" Isla asks.
At the same time, Cody protests the plan, "There's no way that I'm accepting that."
"Well, Cody, if you wanted to be in charge, then I guess you shouldn't have been such a cun–"
"James!" This time you're loud enough to speak over James' biting words.
"See you in class" are James' parting words to the very stunned Cody as he pulls you away from the scene.
Once in the hall, James can't help himself from raging over Cody's behavior.
"What a slimy git! Who does he think he is?"
You squeeze the hand that James still has wrapped around yours as he tugs you through the halls.
"James," you call gently.
"Don't know why I said yes to working with them. They basically cornered me, I'll have you know! I should've ran the other way when I saw them–"
"James," you try again, more firmly.
"Maybe if we talk to Minnie on Monday we can get our group switched. You don't suppose we can work with Sirius and Remus considering these extenuating circumstances?"
You dig your feet into the floor, "James!" you call out one last time, finally earning his attention.
James spins to face you, his hold on your hand not letting up.
"Yeah?"
"Calm down, would you?" You're voice comes out tinged with laughter.
James' troubles melt away at the sound of your laughter. His eyes search your face for any sign that it's false.
"You're not upset?" he asks, knowing you've been sensitive in the past to people's commentary on the way you talk.
"No, the look on Cody's face when we stormed away was healing enough."
This earned a laugh from James, "It was pretty satisfying."
James gives your hand another tug so that you fall into step with each other again. He only drops his hold on you to sling his arm over your shoulders.
"Dunno why people become such dunces around you." A playful smirk dances on James' lips, "Distracted by that pretty face, maybe, whereas I know how to multitask."
You shake your head at his antics, but your lips can't be stopped from curling into a grin.
"I can't deny the fact that you're the only one who seems to always hear me."
In the past, you've considered the possibility that James can always tell what you're saying because you feel more comfortable around him than anyone else, prompting you to speak more clearly. In actuality, James doesn't even need your words to know what you're thinking. He's known you for a long time, and he's spent every minute of it learning everything there is to know about you. By now, he might know you better than he knows himself.
"I guess I just might be the luckiest guy around, then, that I don't have to miss a second of your charm."
You sigh at his teasing and knock your shoulder into his, completely missing the genuine adoration in his eyes as he studies the way you smile at his words.
He can't wait to see how your smile looks when you find out that record he got you is signed.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 9 months ago
Text
1.5k / 20 / post-apocalypse au, part 1
...
You're injured but moving as fast as you can with your bow slung over your back. Soap is close behind you, giving chase, shouting your name as he does. Doesn't he learn? Doesn't he know you'll pull your bow on him again if he corners you?
He must know, but he's too stubborn to give up the chase. You don’t understand it.
He pushes on, just as graceful and twice as effective as you. You slip through the thick trees and their branches trailing whips of brambles. He shoves past them. You’re injured. He’s not. He's gaining, boots heavy in the soil.
"Watch yourself--!"
Your boot lands on leaf litter that falls out from under you--a pit trap. You’re moving barely fast enough for your momentum to save you from falling in. Your waist hits the edge of the pit. You brace yourself by your elbows, fingers digging into the dirt. The soft underside of your arms drag against something sharp underneath.
Soap grabs you by your coat and pulls you up out of the trap and to your feet before you can scramble out yourself. You're neither surprised nor mollified by his careful handling of you.
"Let me go!"
"Na. You're hurt. Stay still."
"Soap, I swear to God--"
"Shut up. I'm taking a look."
He holds your arm firmly with one large hand and, with the other, pulls your sleeve away from the bleeding gash. You grab his wrist with a pained curse. Whatever caught your arms—the rough wood and metal at the trap's edge—tore you bloody. Soap glares at the gash and then at you. He's close.
You could reach for your bow or for the dagger on your hip. But you know for a fact he's armed. With guns. A sniper rifle on his back and two sidearms at his belt. He knows how to use them, too. If you fight, he wins. But you know better than to back down quickly. The world is crueler than it used to be ever since things went to shit. People who show weakness don’t survive.
"Why are you following me?" you growl, your grip on his wrist tightening.
His grip on you loosens in turn when you speak. "You know why. I'm lookin' out for ya."
"I didn't ask for your help."
"Aye, but you still needed it."
"You're not a soldier anymore, Soap," you retort, trying to pull your wrist away. "It's every person for themselves. Stop following me."
"That's no way to live. The world may be a shithole, but there are still folk around who'll lend you a hand even though they don't need to. Soldier or no'."
You can't get out of his grip when he's determined to keep you there, and he is. As much as you'd like to give him a matching wound for being so goddamn stubborn, the rational part of your brain--the part that makes sure you survive--knows better than to expend energy struggling when it's not strictly necessary.
"Nobody lends a hand unless they want something in return," you mutter, glaring down at your wound as he bandages it. "Even if they're pretending otherwise."
He knows you speak from experience. You're a woman, and that means you're nothing but a resource to the worst of whoever’s left. He can't blame you for being guarded. Then again, you wouldn't be making such heated statements to his face if you really thought he intended to hurt you. You're just... defensive. Hiding under all that anger. That's what he tells himself. So he ignores your grumbled protests.
"That's how you'd look at it," he finally replies as he finishes dressing the wound. "Seein' as you've not met the right people. But some of us don't expect anything back."
"You don't expect it because you think you're better than asking. But you still want it."
"Might be so." His voice is soft, gravelly, but you can hear the steel in it. "But am not asking, now am I? So stop your fussin'. You're safe. Nae need to worry." He releases your bandaged arm.
"You run your hand along the wrapping, checking it. "Fine. But I'm... I'm not coming back with you."
"Can't promise you'll be safe out there. Where do ye plan to go?"
"I don't know. Wouldn't tell you if I did."
"Aye." He rubs his jaw, examining you with flint in his blue eyes. Pressing you for an answer would be pointless. Not that you seem to be lying—but you're not telling the whole truth. The short history you share with him is just enough that he can tell. But he also knows trying to change your mind would be pointless. If you won't listen, he'd have better luck bashing his head against one of these huge, mutated oaks.
"Am nae stoppin' ya. But these woods are full of treacherous paths. If ye run into trouble—when ye run into trouble--my boys and I, we know these woods well enough to dust you off and send you in the right direction. Cannae promise to find you before somethin’ else does, though."
You're fairly sure he's not lying. His boys, as he calls them—his old squad, you think—they've made their home in these woods. It's perilous living—bears, wolves, muties, and terrain just as hazardous as the wildlife. And still those men are the most dangerous things in here.
The offer is tempting. You consider it for longer than you should, looking down at your bandaged arm again. But then you step back, shaking your head slowly. "No, thanks. I have to get going."
It tears him up inside. You're making the wrong choice. If he lets you walk away, he's letting you walk to your death.
He looks at you for a moment. You can tell he's got something more to say. But he changes his mind, stepping back as well. He pulls something from his belt and holds it out. A handgun, scuffed and black, grip held toward you. You stare at it for a second before looking back up at him. He's serious?
"I'm not gonna take that--"
"You're damn well gonna take it." His voice is low and insistent. "You think I don't know you'll run into trouble out here? Don't be a fool. I have spare. Take it."
Your one rule is don't owe anybody anything. How the fuck are you about to owe this man twice?
Fine. Whatever. It's not like you have to use it. Could just barter it. Not like you’re going to see him again. You take the gun, biting back a retort.
He nods his approval. The steely look in his eyes softens, though he still looks dismayed. "Mind where you point that. And when you pull it. Biters'll hear it for a mile and come running. Survivors, too. The curious ones." He glances at your bandaged arm one more time. Then he adjusts the bag over his shoulder and turns his back, walking away from you. Back to camp. "Am expectin' you to keep yourself alive with that," he growls. "Or else it's a lot of good time and material I wasted on ya."
"I didn't ask you to waste your breath," you retort, practically snarling at his retreating back in your irritation. You watch him go until he's disappeared into the trees. You need to make sure he doesn't plan on doubling back and following you.
Then you set off on your own. You take a winding path to throw off any trackers. Never can be too cautious. The gun in your pocket is heavy against your thigh, and you try not to think of it as a comforting security.
You came here to get Roach back, and you don’t care how long you have to wander this Godforsaken forest. You’re not leaving without him.
Soap feels your eyes on him until you disappear.
He wants to divorce himself from this, but he’s on edge. People who strike out on their own here come to a nasty end. But he’s not going to take away your agency by deciding what's best for you. You were right about him not being a soldier, after all. He doesn’t have the authority to herd you back to his squad’s campsite. Your life is in your own hands.
He just hopes you live to do better than he believes you will.
That night, he sleeps restlessly. Which is why, when he hears a cluster of gunshots in the distance, he wakes up instantly. It's you. In trouble.
The night watch—Gaz tonight—is already there, tossing Soap's gun to him. "You were right," Gaz says.
"Course I was," Soap says with a lopsided grin. "Owe me a ten-piece in the next poker game, aye?"
...
[part 1] / part 2 / part 3
more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag
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reverieblondie · 14 days ago
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Spicy idea: Halsin talking to someone over a tall wall or fence and tav Touching/sucking him off to get a reaction out of him until the person leaves and then halsin lets her HAVE IT, punishment or just super riled up
Okay I love love this idea! Halsin is one of my favorite characters, but he is so hard to write for. I hope you enjoy!
18+! Fem receiving oral, Male receiving oral.
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Halsin practically growls as his eyes roll. His head tilts back, "That's perfect, my heart. You're taking me. So well."
Halsin's voice purrs out the praise making your stomach flip as you swallow down another inch of his cock, the girth, and length making you gage, forcing drool to slide from your lips, dripping from your chin to your bare thighs. You're rewarded with another moan from the towering druid, his fist full of your hair tightening, making you whine.
The painful stretch in your throat and on your scalp, however, with every shove and pull, you circle your clit faster, making you practically purr against his cock. 
Pulling away from him you let out a gasp for air, you hold tight onto his thick thighs. Halsin looks down at you, affection filling his hazel eyes. You take his hot, spit-soaked length and roll your tongue over his tip peddling with pre cum. Halsin growls as soon as your tongue teases his tip with slow licks, then quick kitten licks, "You damn minx, you trying to get me to make a mess on your face?"
You just hum at him as you take his tip back between your lips. Halsin's about to taunt you more as he returns his hand to your hair. Then suddenly, the sound of a snapping branch makes Halsin instantly push you closer…You gage with the sudden deep intrusion; moving to push away for a break, you only feel Halsin let out a shaky breath as you're forced to be pinned against the low cobblestone wall. "H-Hello Gale, What brings you out here to these ruins."
"Ah! Hello Halsin, just looking for a quiet place to read from a tome or two."
The sudden guest makes you freeze; you didn't expect when you dragged Halsin out here, others would show up! And, of course, it's Gale; damn blabbermouth would probably let it slip what he caught you two doing. Flicking your eyes up, you see a nervous-looking Halsin. It's not that he's embarrassed, but he likes privacy for intimate moments like this. Halsin briefly meets your gaze in what you're hoping he can read: 'Get rid of him.' 
Gale is completely unaware of the compromising position that you're in. You lean against the short wall, right... just go ahead and get comfortable... It's not like you have a massive man down your throat!
"Halsin… um… actually, I'm glad I ran into you… I've been meaning to talk to you..."
A love confession!? You're about to pull away from Halsin, but his large hand keeps on the back of your head, keeping you steady.
"Sure, what do you need?"
From how it sounds, Gale is nervously trying to formulate his thoughts. You're feeling more and more anxious, starting to lose your patience, but Halsin just carefully rubs your head as he discreetly rocks his hips in and out of your mouth. 300-year-old perv... 
"Well... I wanted to ask your opinion or rather your advice about something, actually more, someone."
He's not actually trying to get advice right now, is he? You groan, and Halsin hides his moan with a slight chuckle. Oh, if he thinks this is funny, you can make it hard for him… Moving your tongue over his length, feeling as he slightly shifts, trying to keep his calm demeanor.
"I wanted your advice on... being able to know if someone is... interested. I know how to flirt, but I don't know if she is interested."
He's talking about Shadowheart.....
"You're talking about Shadowheart." Halsin echoes your inner thoughts. Halsin looks down quickly, giving you a sympathetic smile. But you're not going to make this easy on him... Gale is long-winded, and you plan on torturing Halsin for every second.
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"So, just talk to her? Ask her flat out?"
Halsin groans; his need to release is killing him, but Gate keeps going on and on. Halsin thought he was long-winded before, but now... and you... Oh, you're asking for it with the way you hollow your cheeks around his girth, playing with his balls as you bob up and down. As soon as Gale is gone, he will give you exactly what you deserve for your patience. Halsin has to hold back his grin; he hasn't had this much fun with another in a long time. You know exactly how to rile him up.
"Yes, please just go speak with her... quickly."
Gale looks a bit surprised, "Now? Like right now?" 
"Yes! Do not waste a moment. Go."
With Halsin's advice, Gale runs off to find Shadowheart. You only have a second to silently wish him luck before you're pulled by Halsin; he lifts you up from your sore knees. Large hands holding your thighs tightly as he makes you wrap your legs around his waist. You think you see his hazel eyes glow gold before he eagerly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a fever. His grip gets tighter as he tastes himself on your tongue, but that's not the taste he's looking for... 
"I thought he would never leave..." Halsin husk as he parts from your lips... his hips rutting against your hot core as he buries his nose in your hair, trying to ground himself, but from the thick strain rubbing against your cunt he's about to lose all control. His hands slide down to the front of your trousers, and he wastes no time untying them. Instead, opt for ripping the front open, exposing your wet cunt.
Halsins growled in your ear again. "Then there's you and your damn teasing of my cock…" 
One hand holds your ass in a tight squeeze as his other other hand's fingers start to fill
your pussy, prepping you. "I hope you had your fill... because it's my turn, my heart."
Before you can gather back your senses, he's swiftly pulling his thick fingers out of your cunt and lifting you so your legs are resting on his shoulders and his face is buried in your cunt. His nose immediately dives into your pussy, rubbing against your clit as his tongue gives slow licks.
"Hal-Halsin! Ahh~" is what you gasp as you hold a fist full of his brown hair. Halsin smiles at your reaction before bouncing you further up his shoulders as his lapping tongue moves to pump in and out of you.
Before long, you're grinding your cunt over his face as he holds tight handfuls of your ass. You knew he was strong, but to have you like this is taking your breath away... well, and that tongue of his fucking you. 
Halsin parts from you smiling up at your sweat-shined face. His gorgeous face is covered in your glising arousal. 
"Please..." is all you can rasp before Halsin shakes his head. "Sorry, little one. I think you can endure more."
It's the darkest you have ever heard him sound... then his mouth goes back to your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and giving a hard suck with a chuckle... He plans on torturing you. 
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firegirl888101 · 17 days ago
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Insatiable Madness
Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)
|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|
Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!
Reader is Gender Neutral!
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"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.
"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"
Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.
Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.
Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.
"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.
"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated 
Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --
Oh, of course! How could you forget!?
"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.
After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.
"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."
"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.
"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.
"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.
"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.
If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!
"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"
"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."
"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."
"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"
"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."
"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.
"That's unimportant."
"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"
"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."
"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.
"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"
"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."
"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"
The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.
“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.
"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.
"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.
"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.
"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"
"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.
"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.
"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.
"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.
She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.
"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.
He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.
"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"
"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.
"Amen."
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.
"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.
"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"
"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.
“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”
“What does that even mean!?”
“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”
“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.
“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”
“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.
“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.
“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.
The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.
“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.
“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.
“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”
“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.
“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”
“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”
“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.
“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.
“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”
“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”
“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”
“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”
“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.
“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.” 
“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.
“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”
“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.
“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.
“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.
“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”
“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.
“What was I supposed to say!?”
The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.
Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.
“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.
“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”
“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.
He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.
Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.
“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”
“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.
“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”
“Quiet.” He warned you.
“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”
“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.
“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”
“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”
“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.
“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”
Is this guy nuts?
“No… No, I would not.”
“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.
“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.
“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.
“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”
“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?
When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.
“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”
“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.
“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”
“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.
“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”
Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.
“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”
“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.
Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.
Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.
“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”
“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”
“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”
You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!
…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.
“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.
“Arlecchino, you win.”
“WHAT!?”
“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”
“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”
“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”
“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”
“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”
As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.
“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.
“So you do want the reward?”
“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”
“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.
“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”
“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.
“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”
“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”
You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”
“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”
“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!
“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”
“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.
“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!” 
“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”
“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.
“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”
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flowersforbucky · 2 months ago
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sucker for you
peter maximoff x reader
word count: 1.2k
i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that
a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first
warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️
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Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.
He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.
From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.
And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.
As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.
"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.
Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.
"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”
He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.
Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.
“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.
Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.
“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.
Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.
“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.
“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.
“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.
Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.
“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.
He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –
“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.
“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”
“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”
“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”
“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”
“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”
Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.
You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.
“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.
His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.
“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”
You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.
“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.
He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.
•••••
thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕
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harunayuuka2060 · 8 months ago
Text
Twst Unveil Event Part 7
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! How are you feeling?
Yuurin: I'm feeling better now after Leona-senpai forced me to take a nap.
Rook: *chuckles* As expected from Roi des Lions! He knows how to look after his underclassmen!
Yuurin: Anyway, Rook-senpai, our match is about to start. What are you doing here?
Rook: I'm here to wish you luck, Monsieur Tranquille.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: What place have you chosen, senpai?
Rook: The forest of nymphs.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Are you alright, senpai?
Rook: Why, yes! Monsieur Tranquille! Why do you ask?
Yuurin: Nymphs wouldn't normally allow strangers in their personal space.
Rook: Well, yes. However, after knowing that I am an acquaintance of yours, they have asked me of one thing.
Yuurin: And that is?
Rook: Your photo, Monsieur Tranquille!
Yuurin: ...
Rook: *smiling*
Philomela: It's time for our last match! Fighters! Are you ready?!
Rook: Oui!
Yuurin: Yes.
Malleus: I wonder what kind of place Hunt has chosen.
Silver: It's a forest.
Floyd: Eh~? A forest~?
Sebek: Hmph! It's nothing unique like any of us had chosen!
Philomela: *laughs* Nothing special, eh?
Philomela: Rook Hunt had to ask permission from the nymphs before he was granted an access!
Malleus: Oh. Is that so?
Philomela: Yes. And ah! It's Yuurin's favorite place!
Silver: Favorite place?
Philomela: *laughs* You will find out why!
*The forest of the nymphs*
Yuurin: ...
The nymphs: Yuurin~
The nymphs: Yuuuriiiinnn~
Leona: *frowns*
Jack: There are voices calling her but I see no one there.
Ruggie: And on top of that, Rook is not on sight too.
Leona: That bastard is hiding. Grr.
Yuurin: ...
The nymphs: Yuurin~ Forget about the match and let's play~
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: No, thank you. But I'll accept your invitation some other time.
The nymphs: You used to play with us when you were little...
Yuurin: ...
The nymphs: If you lose against the French, will you play with us?
Leona: What?! They're going to support Rook?!
Ruggie: Hey, Philomela! I thought that forest was Yuurin's favorite place?!
Philomela: Of course! That's the place where he always goes missing!
Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: HUH?!
Jade: Oh dear.
Philomela: Though that was before. Yuurin can navigate the forest now even if it changes its path.
Leona: *sarcastically* Wow, thanks, that's reassuring.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Yes. And I'll have an easy time losing if you disclose his location.
The nymphs: *giggles* Oh, but we promised not to tell.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I see.
Yuurin: He won't show himself until it's the right time.
Philomela and the others: *watches Yuurin as she started to search for Rook*
Epel: Wow...! Yuurin is jumping on branches!
Floyd: Go, damselfish~!
Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: ...
Sebek and Silver: ...
Malleus: Hunt is chasing him.
Jade: Indeed.
Epel: Huh? Where?
Rook: *quietly follows Yuurin*
Rook: *chuckles to himself*
Yuurin: *sensing that she's being followed; decided to change route* *comes down from the trees and starts running*
The nymphs: Yuurin~
Yuurin: I need to find a clearing.
Rook: *starts to quicken his pace*
Yuurin: !!!
Rook: *begins shooting arrows while in pursuit of her*
Yuurin: *dodges them*
Leona: ROOK!
Jack: Isn't that against the rules?!
Philomela: Nope.
Jack: ...
Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: *are getting frustrated*
Malleus: Ten minutes have already wasted.
Silver: Yes. Time is flying.
Sebek: ...
Sebek: It would be unfortunate if Yuurin loses in this match.
Floyd: Eh~ You're just underestimating damselfish, crocodile~.
Sebek: DON'T CALL ME CROCODILE!
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! Your stamina is really impressive!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: This can't do.
Rook: Hm?
Yuurin: *suddenly stops and faces Rook*
Rook: !!!
Yuurin: Please forgive me, but I'll have to make a clearing! *uses her wind magic to clear part of the forest*
Rook: Whoa...
Yuurin: ...
The nymphs: You'll pay for this, Yuurin...
Yuurin: I'm really sorry.
Jade: My, that was a strong wind.
Epel: But it didn't affect Rook-senpai!
Philomela: That's because he wasn't the target.
Leona: ...
Leona: Tch. *mutters* She should've sent him flying.
Ruggie and Jack: *hearing him* But she would get disqualified...
Yuurin: Rook-senpai, I have set the stage for us.
Rook: ...
Rook: *smiles* I appreciate the gesture, Monsieur Tranquille.
Yuurin: *in her fighting stance*
Rook: *approaches her quickly, aiming to grab her*
Yuurin: *dodges, then realizes that it was a feint*
Yuurin: Huh?
Rook: *sneaks behind her; doing a Full Nelson Hold* *lifting her off the ground*
Yuurin: !!!
Floyd: Eh~?! He's copying my move!
Jade: *chuckles* However, it looks more effective when he's doing it.
Floyd: *pouts*
Floyd: Damselfish! Do something and escape the hold!
Rook: *chuckles* You're doing well, Monsieur Tranquille. *tightens the hold*
Yuurin: ...
Rook: You won't even show that you're struggling?
Rook: There is no shame in that.
Yuurin: Rook-senpai, you are forgetting...
Yuurin: That I'm not your prey.
Rook: Eh?
Yuurin: *the muscles in her arms become more visible and prominent as she grabs his hands, breaking them apart*
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille, you know very well that our strength is—
Rook: *is losing the hold*
Rook: —different...
Yuurin: *successfully broke free from him*
Rook: ...
Leona: HAHA! YOU'RE DOOMED, ROOK!
Jack and Ruggie: ...
Malleus: I've never seen Kingscholar this enthusiastic before.
Epel: Haha... Me too.
Yuurin: *about to take revenge on Rook*
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! We can talk this out!
Yuurin: No.
Rook: But—
Yuurin: !!!
Yuurin: *falls to her knees*
Rook: Monsieur Tranquille?
Yuurin: ...
Philomela: THE MATCH IS OVER! IT'S A TIE!
Ruggie: Huh? What happened?
Philomela: The nymphs have intervened.
Philomela: Look.
The nymphs: *have surrounded Rook and Yuurin; with a few holding Yuurin in place*
Leona: Are they going to hurt him?!
Philomela: Hm. Fortunately, his godmothers are there. I'm sure they will just lecture him for destroying part of the forest.
Everyone: Oh...
Leona: How about Rook?
Philomela: They will let him leave.
Philomela: Anyway! That's all for our wrestling competition!
Philomela: Too bad Yuurin wasn't able to finish it off! *laughs*
Them: ...
Yuurin: *has returned with kiss marks all over her face*
Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: ...
Leona: Looks like they gave you lots of smooches, huh?
Yuurin: *nods*
Leona: ...
Leona: *laughs*
Ruggie and Jack: *sigh*
Philomela: I thank everyone for participating in this wrestling match! I had fun watching you all!
The audience: *cheers*
Philomela: And now that it's over! It's time for celebration!
Philomela: Eat! Dance! And drink all you want!
The students: YEAH!!!
Yuurin: ...
Silver: Everyone is lively.
Yuurin: Oh, hello, Silver-senpai.
Sebek: Hmph! Why did we have to change our clothes?!
Floyd: Ooh~ It's breezy~.
Rook: You look gorgeous, Monsieur Tranquille!
Leona: Hey! Fuck off, Rook!
Malleus: Congratulations, Yuurin.
Yuurin: Thank you, Malleus-senpai. But I didn't win.
Jade: It's a tie; however you could count that as a win since Rook Hunt asked you to talk. *chuckles*
Rook: Oui! If not for the nymphs, I would've lost!
Epel: Yeah... Yuurin looked like he was about to beat Rook in a pulp.
Ruggie: Yeah! Shishishi!
Jack: Yuurin, we should do our own wrestling match next time.
Yuurin: Sure.
Philomela: YUURIN! COME HERE AND SING A SONG FOR US!
Yuurin: ...
Everyone: You sing?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Yes. But the songs I know are not suited for this occasion.
Philomela: YUURIN!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *sighs* What do you want me to sing?
Philomela: "DONE FOR" AND "THERE ARE OTHER WAYS" FROM THE EPIC MUSICAL!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Are you kidding me?
Epel, Ruggie, and Floyd: *searches the songs and lyrics* Oh...
Silver: What kind of song is it?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: You'll know.
Them: *after hearing the lyrics*
Them: ...
Leona: What in the world—
Epel: His voice is so good!
Floyd: Yeah~! I feel like I'm being seduced~.
Sebek: Huh! If you were in Odysseus's position, you have already failed!
Silver: ...
Malleus: Hmm... Isn't the one singing with Yuurin the nymph from the enchanted garden?
Them: ...
Ruggie: Damn— No wonder she's feeling it!
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aezuria · 9 months ago
Note
Hear me out.. happy Golden Retriever bf x broody black Cat gf, but it's Jason Grace x daughter of hades reader 👀👀
*ੈ✎ light of my life, where are you?
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content: jason grace x daughter of hades! reader
╰┈▸ warnings: none (until the ending oopsie)
librarian's annotations: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON AND JUST SKIP THE ENDING IF U DONT WANT ANGST
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maybe it was your gloomy disposition, or the fact that you were a daughter of hades, either way, most people avoided you like the plague. you didn't mind it all too much—you were usually one for solitude.
that was until you met jason grace. you disliked him from the start. dislike, not hate, because you couldn't bear to hate the person who always stuck up for your brother. but he was too bright, too overbearing for you. very much not your style.
(that's what they all say at the start)
he was just too good to be true! how could he be all these things everyone claimed him to be? they just had to be exaggerating.
but when he flashed his dazzling smile and tender gaze, you knew that all the rumors were true. even so, you pried your eyes away from him. you would not be wooed by a roman so easily!
jason did not make it easy for you. he followed you around camp like a lost puppy. he tried to be subtle, but his tall form wasn't exactly hard to spot. you went to your cabin? he followed you to the door, claiming he wanted to see nico. you went to the training grounds? he picked up a lance and started examining it a little too hard. when you finally confronted him about it, he just laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, saying, "i was trying to work up the courage to ask you to be friends."
how were you supposed to not like him after that?
despite your lack of romantic endeavors, you were sure that friends didn't do what jason did. he opened the door for you, made sure you ate proper meals—and sure, those acts were pretty "just friends" level. but he also tied your shoes, put flowers in your hair, and hugged you so warmly whenever you were feeling especially down. you felt the unmistakable flutter in your heart whenever he did those things, instead of your initial distaste for him.
your confusion was answered the next evening. you swore nico had muttered something about jason being the only guy (besides him) he'd trust with you, right before telling you to go into the woods. "there's a surprise there," he had explained. "just trust me, okay?"
the sun was starting to set, its rays darting between the leaves and casting a soft glow on the grass. "go to the woods... can he be any more specific?" you muttered, before you caught a familiar head of blond hair in the corner of your eye. you turned and walked towards him, brushing away the branches as you did so.
"y/n!" jason beamed as he caught sight of you entering the clearing. he straightened up and messed with something behind his back. he shifted his feet and pulled out a bouquet, offering it to you shyly. "i asked the dryads what your favorites were. do you like them? did i organize them properly? are these actually not your favorites and they were just lying to me-"
"jason." you cut him off and smiled, taking the bouquet and smelling the freshly picked flowers. "i love them, thank you."
he swore his heart stopped. your smile was the most gorgeous sight he's ever seen. you were like an angel; why was it that no one thought to make you smile more often? he met your content expression with a wide beam of his own.
"really? i'm glad!" jason sighed in relief, before clearing his throat. "um," his voice cracked, face flushing red at that. "i wanted to ask if i could be your boyfriend? i just, you're so sweet and strong, and pretty... anyone would be lucky to be yours. but, i want to be that lucky guy, if you'll let me?" he looked into your eyes so earnestly, there was no other answer but yes.
"you know i love you, right?" jason whispered into your hair. your warmth brought him comfort in his otherwise cold cabin, empty and unfeeling, just like his father's attitude to him.
"uh huh. and i love you too." you mumbled sleepily into his chest. "but do you have to go?"
he laughed softly. "yes, i do." jason combed through your hair, silk between his fingertips. "i'll be back before you know it."
"do you ever think that we don't deserve this?" you whispered, eyes already shut as sleep slowly overtook you. "that we shouldn't have to fight someone else's battles?"
"yeah." jason rested his chin on the top of your head and squeezed you tighter. "sometimes i think that too."
shadows pried your eyes open, then slipped around your heart and squeezed. he was gone. you could feel it. you knew and yet you hoped and prayed that you were wrong. he was supposed to come home later, right? he would.
but the darkness settled in your stomach and weighed you down until morning.
and so you waited and waited, for nico's familiar shadow, or a chariot riding from the sky. what came was the former. you felt the comforting coldness of your brother's appearance, but jason's warmness was nowhere to be held. nico's dark eyes were rimmed with barely kept tears, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs.
"he's gone." your brother's voice was as dead as jason, as final as his last breath.
never had you begged and pleaded to your father so much; never had you needed to. never had you imagined a life without the sun, your sun. never had the ghost of your soul escaped in a pitiful shriek of agony, or became one with the dirt as salty tears.
and you knew, just as you knew death, that a part of you had died with him.
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sl-vega · 7 months ago
Note
Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7
Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)
˚୨୧⋆。 MALL MEET CUTES
part one // part two // part three
pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader
genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant
synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)
CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it
author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3
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"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"
Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.
"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."
Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.
His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.
"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."
Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.
"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"
"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."
Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.
"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"
He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.
"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"
Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.
His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.
"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."
Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.
"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."
Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.
"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."
He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.
He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.
Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.
Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.
As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.
"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."
He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.
Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.
Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.
On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.
"Oh! Hiori?"
Oh God, it was you
"H-hey!"
He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.
"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."
You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.
"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."
Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.
But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...
"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."
You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.
Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.
"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."
This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.
"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"
He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.
Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?
Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.
"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"
His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.
The silence that followed was deafening.
You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.
"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"
You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.
Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.
"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."
He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.
"Well I'll see you school I guess!"
You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.
"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.
"Karasu."
He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.
You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;
"Have fun on your date!"
Wait what?!
If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!
"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"
Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.
"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."
Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.
"Karasu!"
Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.
Well at least you knew how he felt now...
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BONUS!
"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."
"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"
"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"
"Make me prodigy∼"
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scariusaquarius · 27 days ago
Text
in the rough.
CHRISTMAS ADVENT BONANZA 2K24 DAY 14: Festive Jewelry, Thorin Oakenshield
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Thorin Oakenshield x Fem! Reader Summary: The time has come to celebrate new beginnings and the coming of the new year. Thorin underestimated just how excited you would be for this festival.
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A/n: I was SO LATE WITH THIS ONE AND I'M SORRYYYY ;ds;lfkjas but here you go! Short and sweet!
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Genre: Romance, Fluff Rated: Everyone Warning: Fluff, Swearing
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Author: ScariusAquarius
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Erebor had never been busier, the King had to think as he walked through the bustling halls of the kingdom under the mountain. Holly and branches of pine decorated the railings on either side of him, red ribbons climbing up the pillars into beautiful bows; dwarves and dams alike all hustling as they hastily decorated.
The scent of mulled wine was heavy in the air; notes of sugar and ham teasing his nose; and Thorin couldn't help but to breathe in deeply with appreciation.
It was almost time to celebrate the incoming new year; a time of rebirth and new beginnings, and though the tragedy of the Battle of the Five Armies was still visible in the scorch marks that lined the ground; the kingdom was ready to welcome this new age in.
Turning a corner to go into the main dining hall, Thorin's face twitched into a small smile as he spied you and Bilbo going over what looked to be decoration plans.
Thorin's heart warmed at seeing his One and his friend conversing excitedly, and when you looked to him, Thorin could feel the excitement beginning to fill his veins.
You were dressed in fine garbs; red to match his favorite tunic, and with white and black furs to keep from the cold. Your braid that he had done when he had declared his love for you was swept over your shoulder; a decorative bead just above his own.
You smiled widely at him, and you handed Bilbo your plans before greeting Thorin, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.
"Thorin! You're just in time. Bilbo and I were going over plans for decorating the main hall. I was going to suggest that we invite your cousin, Dain, to the feast."
Thorin hummed, tilting his head slightly as you gazed at him with such bright eyes that Thorin couldn't not disagree.
"I see. I will send a raven to see what he might say, though knowing him, Dain would never turn down an opportunity to drink."
You chuckled before you gasped slightly, reaching into your dress to take out a neatly wrapped gift.
"Oh, amrâlimê, I made you something."
Thorin's eyes widened slightly and he glanced down at the box you had placed into his hands. His heart began to race, and he couldn't keep the blush from his cheeks, asking you gently.
"You made something for me?"
"Yes. I...admittedly asked Dwalin for advice, but everything was made by me."
Thorin gently unwrapped the box and he became speechless when his blue eyes spied silver and black oak beads encrusted with emeralds and rubies. Carefully taking the beads out, Thorin was breathless.
"These are...these are beautiful, amrâlimê. You made these?"
You looked proud, nodding as you carefully took one of them, grabbing one of his braids and clipping it right above the one that already kept his braid intact, making the King damn-near faint.
"Yes. I've been practicing with beadwork every since you showed me how to work with metal. It's meant to be festive, but I wouldn't be opposed to you wearing them until I make you more."
Thorin smiled, gazing at you as if you were the only person in the world, and he said softly.
"You are so kind to me. I have no right to handle your love...no right to be so blessed by your presence."
Your face softened, and you cupped his cheeks, making the king lean into you slightly as his eyes closed slightly.
"Mahal has brought me to you for a reason, my King. Is it so unbelievable that the King under the Mountain not only is allowed to reclaim his home, but to reclaim the line of Durin as well?"
Thorin's ears went pink, and he chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he brought you close.
"You speak boldly as if there is nobody to hear you."
"I like to think it makes life more daring that way."
Thorin chuckled before he winked at you slightly.
"If you'll allow me to steal your time, I would...very much like for you to braid my hair with these new beads for the festivities."
You giggled and curtsied playfully, making Thorin chuckle.
"Why, how could I ever refuse the king? Lead me away, Thorin Oakenshield."
END DAY 14
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bonefall · 2 months ago
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Unrelated to the new book blurb:
do you have any tips on processing the absolute mess that is the family tree? Like, how does one put it into smaller bites for re-doing/adjusting? How does one even begin to rework it when it's such a confusing tangle?? I'm just so overwhelmed by the tree(s), and I've read the whole series (because I would love to re-work it, but FUCK).
I will be 100% earnest with you; reworking the tree from scratch as a single person is both difficult and time consuming. I have a penchant for it, and even I'm not completely done. I make my reduxed trees totally free to use so that others at least have a jumping-off point for your own "cleaner" Clans.
So my most helpful tip would probably be Don't. PLEASE take my trees and cut them, prune them, bonsai them, clean them up even more than I did, anything you'd like. I do not wish this fate on my worst enemy.
That said-- let's say you love pain as much as I do, or you just want to see how much work I put into these trees. I'll babble about my process.
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This is my WIP file for the ShadowClan Family Tree. Consider this image a content warning for self-inflicted pain and suffering 💕
Uhhh and also; an ACTUAL, serious content warning. Because of the nature of them asking how to fix trees on their own, I have to talk a little about incest. It comes with the territory.
A few things to know before you start;
You will need a FUCK OFF MASSIVE monitor for this. Mine is an ASUS a little under 2 feet long-- I've tried doing this on my smaller, secondary monitor, and these trees just get too big to work on.
FamilyEcho will not cut it. You NEED an art program. You will have to do this by hand, because there is no lineage-drawing tool that can handle families this large and tangled.
You will need to decide your "rules" beforehand. How closely related are you allowing valid couples to be? Are you allowing Queen's Rights? Can you add OCs, and if so, how often? On this point-- I have my Three Strict Rules, and do not use OCs. Because of this, I do a LOT of research beforehand and usually have the wiki open as I work on these. I'm always scouring for forgotten warriors to use for this.
There are going to be multiple drafts. You will not do this in one go. That does not mean you "failed" or you're "stuck," that's a good thing.
With all of that out of the way.
Usually, the first thing I do is pick a Clan to work on. There's over 1,000 cats in this series, so I break that up by picking one group at a time. Once I do that, I draw out the canon chart.
In this case, I've already drawn out all of the canon charts. River, Thunder, Shadow, Sky, Wind.
I call this a Diagnosis because I'm taking a look at what the problem is, so that I know what I'm fixing. In Shadow's case, it's a solid brick of inbreeding with a "missing generation" line. In ThunderClan's case, it's mostly a Robinwing x Fuzzypelt problem. Each Clan has its own unique issues.
Once you know the issue, step two, start drawing out what you want to do and keep. For example, let's say that you want to use the Ivy/Dove as Holly/Cinder kittens idea.
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I generally try to start with the "modern" cats and work backwards, but it can also be helpful to just doodle out floating "branches" that you want to work in backwards.
You can see examples of those in my ShadowClan draft, up there, but I've zoomed in and circled them.
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Don't be afraid to draw "notes" like this. You can just grab them and drag them around when something clicks!
Getting back to our "example" tree with Holly/Cinder Ivy/Dove, you might notice now that Lionblaze has no mate. Another thing I do when I see an immediate problem but don't have a solution in mind yet is use a little ? mark. You don't want to get hung up on deciding everything RIGHT away.
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Now, this is where my 3 Strict Rules would come into play, in two ways! I'm sure you'll be able to spot them. For one, Lionblaze has waaaaay too many kids here who would go on to have kittens of their own, so I'd start breaking them up. For two, this tree makes Ivypool and Fernsong a first cousin pairing, something I don't allow.
You can fix this in any number of ways, and I'm sure there's someone out there shouting their preferred Lionblaze ships and Alt Fernsong Parents like they're the crowd on a game show, but for this demonstration I'm going to do this;
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Here, I decided I didn't want to undo FernIvy, but I still want Fernsong to be Clanborn with two parents, so I have removed him from Lionblaze and given him unknown family. I've also taken Sorrelstripe and Spotfur, and moved them to a little spot on the side. I can now use them to patch up the little ? placeholders.
You'll also notice this is already becoming a mess. This is why you will need to redraw this a few times, for readability. The best tip I can give you for that is that families who only have one kit to carry on the lineage should go in a long line in the center, but otherwise, offspring who do not have kits should go between their siblings who do.
It's easier to visualize it imo, so here's what I mean;
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The vast majority of the time I spend doing these is just "puzzlework." Trying to figure out a way to make line connections look good, making sure cats are far enough apart, trying to make "wishlist" stuff work.
Here's some insight to that with the big ShadowClan mess I showed at the beginning of this post;
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And, mind you, this is Draft 3 of this tree. Those grayed-out parts of the first image were my first two. I wasn't satisfied enough with them, so I started from scratch several times!
I wish I could share some kind of good, simple process for this, but unfortunately I don't have one. It's just a lot of work, familiarity, creativity, and problem solving. I spend days, sometimes even weeks on these. My intention is that they can be a fandom resource that's easier to read than the website tree, less carelessly inbred with more thought given to immediate family units, AND more comprehensive.
In any case, I hope this was insightful, or these tips I share helped in some way!
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 10 months ago
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Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 5K
Warnings: I'm going to rate this 18+ just to be sure. References to Past Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Cursing, Blood, Guts, Graphic Death, (spoilers?), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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Present Day
Your motorcycle crunches loudly against the black gravel driveway outside of Crimson Countess' trailer. It looks worse than you imagined, shoved behind Vought-land, and sprouting out of the ground like a fungus. Not an unusual thought given it's ogre-like inhabitant.
You weren't looking forward to seeing her after all these years, because you knew it wasn't going to end well. Deep down you hoped that she had let go of everything that happened in the past, like you had tried, well, until Butcher and Hughie showed up at your apartment. Then again, you're not sure that you've really let go of everything that happened. Sometimes it felt like you just shoved all your feelings into the deepest darkest part of your brain where they’d been festering for the past forty years.
And ever since Butcher and Hughie showed up, those feelings had been clawing their way out like a banished Titan climbing out of Tartarus.
You think again about driving away. If you saw her, there wouldn't be any going back. You couldn't go in there pretending to be your daughter, you had to be you. Which meant the possibility of losing the life you'd constructed in the aftermath that followed your long superhero career.
Was it worth it? Was Ben worth it?
You sigh considering that thought. After the fight it was difficult to answer that question. If the answer was no, you might as well just leave. But the answer was yes. You hated that after everything that happened between Ben and you, the answer was yes.
And that meant you needed to know the truth, needed to see it in her eyes. Which also meant there was only one choice.
You look around the clearing where the trailer sits. It’s in a circle of trees that filter the setting sunlight through their lofty branches, making patterns on the gravel where weeds and patches of grass break through every few feet like an oasis in a desert. Further down the road to the right you see a collection of empty circus carts that rust onto yellowed grass, rising from the earth to tangle in the wooden wheels of the carts.
At least the trees are pretty. You think to yourself trying to focus on the positive. They were, after all, one of your favorite things to paint.
You consider your apartment downtown, the open floor plan and large windows, very different from how she chose to live her life. Your eyes trace the mobile home thinking back about the fungus analogy.
The trailer was covered with peeling white paint stained black and yellow in some areas where sticky mold had begun to fester against the structure. The rickety porch was rotted, so much so that when you walked across it, it creaked loudly beneath your feet and you stepped around several foot-sized holes, where others had fallen through.
She definitely didn't budget her money well. I wonder how much money she got when she was a hero? I know that my salary wasn't amazing. Ben definitely did better than me because of his films.
Then again, you were living off money from your father, and your grandfather's investments in real estate, not to mention your artwork was selling better than it ever had.
Your knock against the flimsy front door of the mobile home, not using your supe strength, but the entire house still shakes.
Probably wouldn't withstand a thunderstorm. Hopefully she's invested in an umbrella.
No one answers and for a moment you hope that she's not here or she's dead, but just like always you’re disappointed.
"Who the fuck is it?" You hear Countess' familiar voice shout from inside.
A swarm of memories flock across your mind at her voice, but you push them aside.
"Your best friend in the whole world." You respond, before you can stop yourself. Sarcasm was an easy fallback. If your mother was here she'd say that it wasn't ladylike.
Really just disappointing her in every century. The thought makes you happy.
"What?" Countess rips open the door so savagely that you wonder how the door didn't come off in her hand. You watch her eyes widen and her face pale as her gaze lands on you.
Well, that's certainly not a normal reaction to seeing me.
"Y/n?" You hear her heartbeat spike in her chest. "You're-" She sputters to look for the right word.
"Alive? Yes." You smile at her. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"
"Um-"
A flash of the last time you saw her comes roaring back. The smug look on her face when you caught her and Ben together, the way her face was flushed bright red, sweat dotting her hairline while he- You clear your throat to stop the memory.
You push past her into the small residence, not waiting for her to invite you, and your nose wrinkles as the smell of sweat and her rancid perfume invade your nostrils. It was barely two rooms, the small kitchen/living room was separated from the bedroom with a red beaded curtain that doesn't hide the unmade bed and clothes covered floor.
This was unusual given the fact that she was wearing her supe suit, complete with cape and mask. It was a little tighter in some places than you remember, her reddish hair reeked of cheap dye, her perfume like a cloud of sulfuric acid, and her pointed, cruel face was more wrinkled that the last time you saw her.
"I'd like to say that this is cute," You turn to look back at her from the small kitchen/living room, that was covered in dirty plates and take-out boxes. "But it's kind of a shit hole, isn't it?"
That was fast. So much for trying to be civil. Too much history I guess.
"What are you doing here?" She keeps her voice calm, but the tempo of her heart suggests otherwise.
Your eyes trace the lines of her face, the wrinkles, the subtle graying of her hair that the dye couldn't cover. "Just thought I'd check in. See how things are going. You definitely didn't age well."
"What the fuck do you want?" She snarls this time.
You can't help but smile at her. Something about this whole situation was utterly ridiculous to you.
She said Ben died. Why am I even here? What did she have to gain from his death? The thought swishes around in your brain. But then why was she afraid when she saw me? You think about all the times you spent watching her manipulate the others on Payback and all the other times you were around her, she never showed fear. Why now?
"I'm here because somebody showed up the other day asking me about Ben." You shrug, running one of your hands against the dirty kitchen countertop examining the tip of your finger as if looking for dust. "And it's funny, because as they were asking me questions I realized that you and I never talked about what happened that day. I mean I heard what you said through Stan and Legend, but I never heard it from you. Thought it was time we had a little heart to heart."
Her pulse spikes again, but she covers it with a smirk. "You want to talk about Ben?" Her voice drips with false sweetness. "Well I'll say this, he was a good fuck. But I'm sure you knew that."
Your entire body goes rigid, remembering the night that you found them together, the night after you finally told him you loved him and he pushed you away.
"I mean, after all, he popped your cherry didn't he? Made you a woman." Countess' smirk turns into a rueful smile. "You definitely waited long enough. Ben told me how long you’d been friends. He told me the sex was so boring, that you were so inexperienced, that he wanted a real woman who could actually please him. A woman who wasn’t quite so-." She sniffs, tapping a bright red fingernail against her hip. “Big.”
Her words are like a slap in the face and you feel the cold disapproval of your mother for the first time in eighty years. The anger that surges up underneath your skin flares hot against your cheeks.
Ben wouldn't have said that about me. He- he knew how special that was for me. He said that he wanted it to be special for me.
You remember how happy he looked when you woke up in his arms the next day, before you said the three little words that you couldn't hold in anymore, the ones that you had wanted to say to him since you were eight.
"Poor little y/n. You worshiped the ground he walked on for so long  and finally he decided to pity fuck you. It’s so sad. You wasted your life pining for someone who will never love you. And you thought you could just come here and intimidate me? You’re still the same little girl who begged Ben to fuck yo-"
Her body flies forward telekinetically into your outstretched hand, that clamps down around her throat.
"But I do intimidate you." Your eyes shift to purple with your display of power. "Your heart rate hasn't dropped below 120 since I got here. So obviously there's a reason why you're afraid of me." She gasps against your hand, but you don't let go. "Tell me what happened that day." Your voice has slipped into a monotone, tinged with rage. “And I promise that I’ll let you live. In what condition, well, that's up to you.”
"I don't have to tell you anything!" She spits, pushing her hands together and sending you flying backward as the ball of fire hits you just under the right side of your rib cage.
There's a high pitched popping sound, an immeasurable amount of pain, and everything goes black.
It wasn't the first time you'd died. You'd heard of other supes being able to come back from the dead, and of course the others like Ben and Homelander who were almost invulnerable to injury, but your gift was different. Yes you had enhanced senses, speed, and strength, which were the original powers that were displayed after you received the injection of Compound V, but there was more to it than that.
It took you the first two deaths to figure it out, and you could remember both clearly.
The first was a few weeks after you took Compound V, when you and Ben were on his tour overseas promoting the might of the United States. It was supposed to be safe. The shot fired from the crowd was meant for Ben, but you pushed him out of the way. It was before you figured out he was bulletproof. Your gut reaction was to protect him as it always was. He ripped the guy in half for what he did and turned back to you. You remembered how he looked, remembered the fear in his eyes he never allowed to break through the façade he wore as Soldier Boy as he held you across his lap, holding a hand against the wound where blood poured freely from your chest. You remembered gazing up at him for what you thought was the last time and then the darkness that followed, welcoming you like an old friend.
And then thirteen seconds later you woke up, gasping for air, the bullet wound healed leaving only a circular scar behind. You didn’t understand at first, it wasn't until you died the second time that you realized how powerful you could be. The second time was Ben's fault, a scorned lover, a telekinetic, with a bone to pick with him. When you got in her way she'd snapped your neck with her powers. But this time when you woke, it was different, you felt different. You could feel her powers stirring beneath your skin, and it wasn't until you flicked her away from Ben that you understood. When you died a normal way you came back after 13 seconds, but when a supe killed you, you came back in 13 seconds with their powers.
You didn’t know why 13 seconds. In fact it was Ben that told you it was exactly 13 seconds, why he knew that you didn't know. It seemed that for everyone else 13 was an unlucky number, but for you it was the difference between life and death, literally. You also didn’t understand why you kept the powers. Sometimes you wondered if when you were killed by a supe your body analyzed how you died, understood it, and then you came back with that forbidden knowledge like you’d just eaten the fruit off the wrong tree. 
Ben was the only one who knew and when anyone asked, you attributed your sudden ability to move things with your mind as something you never used in public. Having that much power scared you. You weren't sure what people or Vought would do if they found out, so you kept it to yourself and so did Ben. Honestly, sometimes you think the reason why he kept it to himself was because he didn’t want anyone to be more powerful than him, but you didn’t care about the abilities. You didn’t think you were a god despite Vought’s constant worship and praise. If anything, you felt closer to hell and in a binding contract with the devil.
Exactly thirteen seconds later, you sit up from the floor completely healed while Countess stands there over you, a horrified look on her face. She'd never seen you die before.
"Did you just try to kill me Countess?" You ask.
She puts her hands together to shoot another fireball, but you make a motion with your hand to that flicks her away. Her body soars backward illuminated in the purple glow that manifests with your telekinesis, into the small hallway that leads to the bathroom on the other side of the mobile home.
"You know," You stand from the ground looking down at your melted motorcycle jacket. "This was my favorite jacket. Had it from the 80's it was vintage. Damn.”
“How-“ She groans stumbling to her feet and leaning on the wall for support.
“We all have our secrets don’t we? And I'd love to hear yours."
Her eyes flash to where the front door is, but you beat her to it, yanking her back towards you by the arm, crushing her right wrist in your hand. Her scream of pain quenches the anger fueling in your chest from the words she snarled at you earlier.
"You're pretty worthless, even with your powers." You sigh. “I was hoping for more of a challenge.”
She cradles her broken wrist to her chest, backing away from you. Fear flashes in her eyes when she realizes that she's made a mistake, but instead of it making you feel powerful, it makes you pause.
Being a hero was difficult. You watched how so many others abused their powers over the years, feigning to be pure and heroic but really succumbing to dark urges when no one was looking. It was also why you hated Herogasm.
You hated it because you knew what happened to the normal people, the ones that thought they would be safe with the heroes they admired so much. You'd watched Ben lose control more than once, knew stories of innocent people that were hurt, not that Countess was innocent. But you never liked to hurt people with your powers. Standing here in this trailer made you guilty and watching her cower away from you made you guilty despite your shared history and her harsh words.
"So I'm just going to ask one more time, what happened to Ben?" You force your voice into a snarl, shaking off the guilt.
Because it was necessary. It wasn't just about you settling something from years ago, it was about Ben.
She deserves this, she isn't a good person.
"Go to hell." She spits at you.
You grab her by the front of her red suit and throw her away into the small kitchen. Countess' body crashes into the lopsided brown cabinets with a solid thwacking sound smashing through the flimsy structures. Blood drips down the side of her face from where she hit the cabinet corner, blending into her reddish hair. She rises from the ground with an angry snarl, clutching a dirty knife in her hand.
"I don't want to get tetanus from that. I can't remember when my last shot was-" You begin to say with a sigh.
She swipes the air in a vicious arc, but you grab her by the wrist, dodging the knife. "You never learn do you?"
The wrist twists to the side in your hand with a loud snapping sound followed by Countess' scream that reverberates in your skull as you break her other arm. "Pretty soon you're gonna be out of limbs, so I'd start talking."
Countess drops to her knees as the pain begins to seep into her body. "Fine. I'll tell you-"
"Then do it."
"He's not dead."
As the world stops spinning a high pitched ringing in your ears takes over, filling the monotonous drone of seconds ticking past. The past forty years no longer matter, the next hundred wouldn’t either, because Ben wasn't dead. As much as you hated him, the thought chilled you to your core, because then where the hell was he?
"Or at least he wasn't when they took him." She mutters, holding her arms to her chest.
"What did you do?" Your voice comes out in a whisper because you can hardly speak let alone comprehend what she's saying. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" You scream, grabbing her by the front of her suit.
"They wanted him." She spits.
"Who did?"
"The Russians. They wanted him and they took him!"
"You sold him out to the Russians?" You roar, hauling her up into the air so close you can smell what she ate for lunch. "Why? Did they pay you?"
"No. We all hated him!" She snarls. "But you were always around." Her mouth twitches into a painful smile. "It was so easy to get him to fuck me. I knew it would drive you away, you'd wanted him for so long and he didn't give a damn about you. And then you weren't there to protect him!" She laughs through the pain that builds in her chest.
I was right. She fucked him to make me angry, to get me to turn my back on him. I wasn't there to help him and they sold him out the first chance they got.
"He always wanted me more than you, knew that I could satisfy him better than you ever could. You really thought that he could love you? Ben doesn’t love anyone!” Her eyes glint with malice. “And you’re still the same pathetic little girl who begged Ben for his co-“
Her head tears from her shoulders in you hands cutting off her next words, the explosion of blood from her carotid artery spraying your face, and soaking into your ruined clothes. The ringing is back, filling the void of silence in the air that followed the tearing of bone and sinew.
You stand there for a minute holding it, not quite comprehending what you've just done. You hadn't lost control in a long time, not since you had the fight with Ben about Countess, or when you threw your sofa through one of the walls in your apartment and then broke every piece of glass, windows included, and had to move when you found out he was dead.
Or not dead. The thought chills you. Payback handed him over to the Russians, where he's been for the past 40 years? Why? Just because he was irrational, angry, and a dick? There's got to be more to it than that. Stan would have never allowed that. Soldier Boy was his golden boy, his meal ticket-
You think about the last forty years of hating Ben, cursing him, trying to forget him, wishing that you'd never loved him. The night you fought washes over you, bringing the anger, frustration, and heartbreak roaring back. The head in your hands smashes into mush as the memories barrage your mind, surging over the dam you built to keep them away.
You and Ben had always watched each other's backs. It was the promise you made to each other before all of this started, on the night he asked you to come with him and leave everything you knew behind. You knew him better than anyone else.
And yes maybe he fucked me once and I told him I loved him and he immediately went out and fucked Countess-
Your heart cracks in your chest with the thought, the heartbreak coming back in a wave of sadness that makes you shudder.
But you couldn't leave him, because you knew he would have never left you. Ben may have said that he didn't care about you, but you knew in your gut that Ben would have torn anyone apart who hurt you. He's always protected you. Even before you became supes together.
You stare back down at the mush coating your hands and the front of your clothes.
Why the fuck is everything so complicated?
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When you get back to your apartment you're covered in a thin layer of soot, from blowing up the trailer, and a layer of blood and brain matter from removing and crushing her head. You hoped that by blowing up her home and burning her body with your newfound abilities that it would be enough to cover your tracks, but you were uneasy. The buzz of killing her and the shock of her revelation had worn off, but was now replaced with a numbness when you think about what could have happened to Ben, what could still be happening to him.
The shower does little to ease your mind and sleep evades you, despite the exhaustion that pulls at your limbs for using your powers. Dying usually meant that you needed to replenish that energy, but you couldn't muster the enthusiasm to do that. You just felt listless. The last forty years felt like a lie, felt like a waste, because as you’d been living your life Ben had been trapped in Russia.
So you open your laptop on the counter, wet hair soaking through your sleepshirt, and begin to research flights to Russia leaving within the next few days.
I have no idea where I'm going. I go to Russia and then what? Where in Russia? The Kremlin? Yeah let me just waltz right up to that.
You lean forward with your head in your hands thinking about Butcher. He came here because he wanted to know more about Ben. Maybe he knew where he was. He was the one who mentioned Russia.
You pull the card he left behind on your counter towards you, rubbing your thumb over the number. Legend said he kills supes. So is that what he wanted? To find Ben and kill him? The thought makes a chill travel down your spine, immediately followed by the primal urge to protect Ben. But what had Ben ever done to him?
You look at the number again.
If I call him, he's going to know that I was lying. Not that I'm scared of him.
You finally pick up your phone and dial the number, but it goes to voicemail.
"Hey this is Y/f/n Y/l/n. I just remembered a few things about Soldier Boy and thought you'd like to discuss them. Just give me a call-back whenever you get this."
You hang up the phone and sit there for a minute, eyeing the coffee that sits untouched next to your open laptop.
I killed someone today. The thought should be chilling, but you feel no remorse, no guilt.
Is that because I think she deserved it?
Your mind goes back to what she said about Ben sleeping with you, what he told her about you. The urge to cry rises in your chest with the memory of her words.
You remembered that night. You had been so excited. Ben had taken you out to dinner for your birthday, despite your insistence that you'd celebrated enough of those. The restaurant was quiet, secluded, different than the flashy world the both of you were living in.  It had reminded you of before you took the Compound V, when you were still normal. The food was good, there was flirting and hand holding at dinner, and finally a slow dance when he kissed you for the first time.
And when he took you back to your apartment and to bed, it didn’t seem like a quick fuck, it didn't feel like cheap sex. The way he took care of you, held your hand, said your name, looked at you, held you close to him after, and the soft smile on his face that he had only when it was the two of you- it felt special. He made it special for you because he knew how important it was for you.
Tears slip down your cheeks. It would have been one of your favorite memories if you didn't know what followed, what was going to happen the next morning or in the next 24 hours. 
"Guess it was just a lie." You mutter to yourself, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes.
The next morning when you woke up in his arms you couldn't help but tell him that you loved him, whisper it to him, more happy than you'd ever been curled against his chest. You remembered the way he looked at you, like you were crazy and then he left for his movie premiere even though we were supposed to go together muttering flimsy excuses as to why he had to leave. And finally the image of him and Countess in the bathroom crashes over you, sending shards of glass back into your heart.
You thought that by now you'd picked them all out.
More tears drip down your cheeks, as your thoughts drift back to Ben and the years that followed that night. You sigh considering what to do.
I wish I could just forget, wish that I could leave him, but I can't.
But that didn’t mean you had to forgive him.
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After a night of no sleep, you stand poised over the wooden chest in the back of your closet. Packing for the flight that left in two days was turning into a bigger task than you'd thought.
Your current wardrobe wasn't suited for storm the capital city of Russia and kill everything in your path to find Ben, it was more suited for late night painting and art shows. The amount of paint stained overalls, oversized band t-shirts, sweatpants, and dresses in your closet was astounding and none of which screamed "fear me." You would definitely need to go to the mall to find more things that you could move in, if need be, and find things that hid your identity. All it took was one photo or video linked online and everyone would know that you weren’t dead.
You knew that no one would be willing to talk to you, give up the information willingly, not to mention if you really had to break into the Kremlin it was not going to be a walk in the park.
It wasn't that you were out of shape. You still trained during the week, took self-defense classes, and worked out to prevent yourself from going soft, but fighting Countess was the first time in forty years that you had faced another supe and you weren’t up to speed on the supes that the Russian government employed.
You also didn't like the idea that you were going in blind. There could be any number of men there, any kind of supes, and anything waiting for you.
But the truth was, deep down you didn't care. What the rest of Payback did had ignited something deep inside you. You knew that people were going to die if they stood in front of you, but the urge to protect Ben rose above all else. Because you still loved him, despite everything he said, despite everything he did, he was still Ben after all this time and you couldn't let him go that easily. 
You hold up your supe suit in front of you. It was made specifically for you, designed of a breathable material that made movement easy, not to mention the hood and mask did a wonderful job of concealing who you were.
I really don't want to wear this again. You think to yourself, eyeing the smooth material. It wasn't that you hated your suit, it was what it represented. If you wore that again, you'd be Indigo and you'd spent the past forty years trying to put as much distance between you and your superhero career as possible. You would be recognized instantly.
Could I even squeeze into this thing again?
You look at yourself in the floor length mirror on the opposite side of your walk in closet. You looked the same as you always had. Countess’ jeer about you being big makes you flinch again, bringing another cloud of insecurity over your mind.
Maybe that’s why he never slept with me before that night. Maybe that’s why he ran to Countess.
The thought is immediately followed by the image of Missy Callahan at your 16th birthday and how Ben clung to her. Then followed by your mother’s constant attempts to hide your figure. And finally, followed by all the other women you had ever seen Ben with. None of the others had looked like you. You shake off the urge to cry and look back at the suit.
Maybe I can paint over the purple, make it only black? Would that really change it that much?
Suddenly your phone rings, shattering the still silence in your apartment. For a second you hope that it's Butcher returning your call, but when you lift the phone to your ear you realize that it's something much worse.
"Hello?"
"I need you." The familiar voice says.
Shit.
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Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303
@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs
@bughill126
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I've seen people doing an intro post so I suppose I should do the same right? I have no idea how to do this, I'm just winging it :3
INTRO POST TIME WOOO!!
[last updated: sat dec 7th at 7:18 PM 2024]
(I update this often, a reread of it every now and then would be greatly appreciated!)
Maybe every week/month depending on your time scale? ↑
Follow my other blog where I reblog a bunch of stuff and things for the full experience of my personality and interests! @eckos-reblogs :3
@everytime-i-reach-the-postlimit ←Exactly as the name entails
@nature-is-mystical ←is my other random blog that you can follow as well if you want.
that blog is just for reblogging nature stuff and posting nature stuff. (Occasionally rhymes come with it ig)
side blog for fanart!: @sonar-fanart-hall
I'm always working on making reference sheets for OCs ^^
Chill dude side blog: @cool-dudes-official
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I will continue to edit this, probably for the rest of time to get it right since I'm a slight perfectionist lol
Hello! I've been an artist for around 5 to 6 years, and I still kinda suck at it! I do traditional art normally but I've been branching out to digital art as well. I mostly draw animals, anthropomorphic creatures, creatures in general, whatever beautifully ugly faces I can come up with, and sometimes human faces!
I classify as a furry but do not reblog a ton of furry stuff nor do I have a fursuit. I just like drawing and seeing anthropomorphic animals :3
Furries, Therians, anyone of lgbtq+ community (including ace people cuz apparently there's a debate about that), weirdos (but NOT in the gross way), and more are welcome on my blog! :3 ❤️ (you're kinda automatically welcome if you're kind anyway lol but whatevs :3)
Tags and stuff! To help you find stuff in my blog better through search :)
#Ecko draws -exactly as is obvious, it will be for when I make art, digital or traditional.
#Echo Rambles -For posts of mine that include mainly me talking about random stuff
#Echo rants - for when I rant. Similar to #Echo rambles but different..
#Echo answers - For when I answer asks!! :D
#The Clowder seeks - For when you guys ask me stuff!
#Mama Change - For when I mention my mom. (Her name is change..or it's more of a nickname but no one calls her by her actual name except for professional/job people like a dentist or something)
#Echo asks - For when I ask questions :3 lol
#Eckos moots <3 - for interactions with moots, obviously 🙄 (I love y'all sm)
#Ecko irl - me irl
My main Media for traditional art is, pens, pencil, gel pens, paint markers (posca) and normal markers! I hope to soon branch out to ink! (Maybe one day you'll get to see some watercolor stuff from me. It's not that good of watercolor art and I don't enjoy painting too much tbh)
Anatomy You say? Don't know her 😔
If you are interested, I do art requests! It's not guaranteed to be good or to be done quickly but I will try my very best every time. You can even request multiple times if you'd like! Like a ton of times! I really don't mind!
You can also request art of fandoms I'm not in but make sure to give me a good reference or the drawing will look off :3
Art requests open until further notice.
If there's something I don't mention here that you're wondering if I can draw or not, give me an ask in my inbox and I'll let you know! (Pls, I'm friendly I swear)
You can also dm me if you'd like but I'd prefer the askbox instead (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;⁠)
I can't draw/don't want to draw: items, anatomy, bodies (unless you want the equivalent of a boxy stick figure), rendering, lighting, dragons (without a reference), romance/NSFW (no, just no.), hands, human legs (for the life of me 😭), +more
I can draw/like to draw: faces, animals (mostly cat related ones but you can request any animal and I'll at least try to draw it.), different hair styles (only with a reference), eye bags (I think they're pretty lol), dragons (only with a good reference), gore (not the best at it but I'll will try my best to make something nice and bloody for ya!), +more!
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My name is Ecko and it's my preferred name but you can refer to me as Melleona (my OC) or by a nickname as well if you'd like! (just please ask me first if you want to use a nickname as I'm bad with setting boundaries.)
My pronouns are She/Her but feel free to refer to me as it/it's! :3
Speaking of which! This is my OC, Melleona:
She is 14 years old, she is introverted and blunt but also shy and insecure. She has anxiety, dealt with a bit of depression, and she's very casual as well as lazy (like me lol)
She's half Cat, she has greyish blue eyes (not visible in the drawing), slightly blueish black hair that's long enough to reach her ankles, she has a mushroom themed party hat, and some wicked whiskers!
If there's anything you'd like to ask me about her or ask her, go ahead and ask away! I love anons and normal asks! ❤️❤️❤️ (There is a slight filter on the drawing. I'll edit this later and put her color palette below ❤️)
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I'm a minor! Mind your words, don't send me gross/weird asks or messages. (I've already had a few people message me asking for my age, a picture of me, and my sexuality. No, I will not be sharing my real appearance on here. my age? Minor, that's all you need to know. My sexuality? I don't know and you don't need to know either, respectfully ^^❤️)
IDC if I post something slightly suggestive or that says I know about 18+ themes. I posted it, not someone saying something to me of those themes. Sure, I understand the stuff but It really doesn't matter now does it? It just means I understand enough to know you shouldn't be saying that stuff to me. (Boundaries ✨)
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I do half-curse in posts from time to time. I do censor it a bit tho, like "f7ck" for example. Hope ya don't mind (⁠;⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠)
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I'd appreciate it if people reblogged my art!
I don't appreciate reposting it however.
Just in case you don't know what the difference between reposting rather than reblogging: it's when you (typically) take a screenshot of the art, and then repost it on either Tumblr or a different app rather than hitting the reblog button!
While this has never happened to me personally, I do feel like it's worth mentioning.
Oh, and, don't under a circumstance feed my art to AI. I can forgive reposting my art. I put out there for people to see not to get fame from it but under no circumstances EVER will I allow feeding my art to AI. It is not human. It does not make art.
AI artists don't exist unless it's used ONLY to assist with a process that is still mostly YOUR OWN SKILLS THAT YOU'VE CULTIVATED OVER TIME. AI is NOT art but it can HELP with art.
ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ
don't dm asking me to commission from you. like said before, I don't have money bc I'm a minor + I don't like being pestered for me commission you. talk to me like a person, not an ATM.
If I want to commission someone, I will dm them and even then, I'm most likely to commission art from a friend to support them.
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I support the lgbtq+ community! And I don't discriminate against race. I really shouldn't have to say this. (˘⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠˘)
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I will respond to money asks with "!!" And that's it. I don't have money and even if I did I don't got any money to spare. I'm broke and struggling too. Not to mention, I'm a minor and can't just go out and get the stuff. I hope you understand and I wish you all the best!❤️❤️❤️
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Some games and shows and stuff I like:
Shows and stuff: Rick and Morty, adventure time, lost in space, bsd (never watched it but I've seen enough of it on the Internet to know a bit about it. Very interesting :3), Some of the Life Minecraft series, httyd, doctor who, and more!
Games/fandoms: Yonder(Yonder Cloud Catcher Chronicles.), Minecraft, the Stanley parable, tiny bit of South Park, cotl, MLP(childish I know but I don't care. I love them), creepypasta, SCPs, Trevor Henderson's creatures (mostly cartoon cat), plants vs zombies, fran bow, little misfortune, and more!
Stuff and things (hobbies?): Art, apparently I make rhymes now too??, rollerblading, climbing, Hiking (iffy), sleeping, being annoying+lazy, doom scrolling, interacting with people, and more!
(I'm not really in any fandoms really..kinda like on the edge of being in each and every fandom I come across..)
General facts about me! Yippee!
I think eye bags and wrinkles are pretty (odd, I know lol), I live in a bus (not decked out like you see on social media though. We just live in a bus lol), I live with my ma (my dad is my step dad and he and my mom just broke up psooo ye), I blank out a lot and just stare at people for no reason (which freaks them out), I have greyish blue eyes (a long with some, I'm pretty sure permanent eye bags lol), I get energy right before nighttime mostly (and then it disappears as soon as it reaches around 11 pm to 12 am), My favorite color is maroon (and any type of blue along with orange and yellow and forest green..mostly just comfy vibe colors tbh but maroon is a fixed piece), my favorite animal is a cat (although I have a dog. Muffin doesn't count as a dog, she's practically human. Apart of the family.), and more!
(I'll update this as I go)
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[I will block as I see fit]
Do not interact with my blog if: You're racist, you only or mostly have sexual themes on your own blog (I apologize but it makes me uncomfortable. Have some other interests and it might make me less uncomfortable ^^), if you in general just enjoy hating on people for no reason (I like to make my area a safe space for people) if you're a Zoophile (No explanation really needed but animals can't consent.) (more will be added later when I think of what to add)
Don't dm me unless you're a moot or you say your intentions within the first 1-3 messages. (moots that I've interacted with can send me a dm unprompted with stated intentions anytime they'd like. Special privileges ✨)
(Added a specific part of that bc a moot felt they were making me uncomfortable by having such themes on their blog. I didn't really realize at first but yes that does make slightly uncomfortable but I don't really care as long as you have other interests. If s3x is your only interest, it weirds me out to have those types of people interact with me. Just know you're all good moot, you're not the type of person I was aiming it at. There are other people that just don't think about anything else but $ex and relationships that creep me out and you are not one of them. ^^❤️)
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Things about me, (random stuff): I am cringe from time to time, my fav colors are maroon and any kind of blue, orange is nice too though,
I appreciate any and all constructive criticism. IDC if it sounds rude and might hurt my feelings, TELL ME so I can help better myself and my blog! I'm dum and will most likely not notice I'm doing something weird or anything :P <3
•Send me asks! Wanna to hug one of my OCs, Want to slap the sh1t out of one of em, Want to introduce me to a new (or old) fandom I don't know of but you think I might be interested in, Want to say hi, Want to give a music suggestion, send an ask!
I LOVE interaction and if possible, I want to be busy with asks at all times so send a ton!
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•Moots:
@theachskid @voidsweirdthoughts @burningbutter @rafrfr @rateater2000
@footlongdingledong @ender-the-insomniac @thistlebriar @rspoetry @virtualcroissantflapcolor
@jawdoesstuff @storythesilly @yourfavoritecuntist @chamber-of-voices @i-draw-things
@2oo7xddd @catsreblogging @silli-billy15 @totally-not-a-commie @khloethecatsworld
@1nd13gh0st @cur1os1tyk1lledme @nonbinaryriverclan @ilove-fanart-and-lore405 @hermitchild
@my-mom-named-me-duck @hermitchild
@williamsart12345 @lilytheaxoltollover @twobraincellsremaining @nn-the-doodle @emmajasonartz
@bugba-bugbee @railway323 @xho-the-scribble @asqadia-banthen @nasthesilly @ceaselessbackflips
@the-anxious-acrobat @justuravghazbin @callmekiyo24 @maybeyoullfindthissomeday
@sensehumor ♥️
+any future moots/one's I might have forgotten (I hope I wouldn't forget anyone 🥲)
If you don't like being tagged in tag games, let me know and I'll move your name over here cuz I copy paste the ones above for tagging in stuff: (nothing here yet!)
Moot side blogs: @thistlebriar-tags @my-dad-named-me-goose @mysterious-other-being @
Btw, moot/friend privileges: tagging me in whatever the heck you want, sending nonstop and possibly annoying asks, dming me and having a convo at random, +more! I love all y'all and am more than happy to interact ❤️
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My art ↑
Yippee!! That's all for now folks! ❤️
I'll update this whole thing as I go, any questions, just send an ask and I'll update this with the answer as well as you know- replying in general lol :3
I seem incredibly childish in this intro post and my general posts but do know, I am over 12 years of age lmao 🤣
I'mma keep some notes here as well... mostly for tone stuffs cuz I can't remember these 😭
/lh = lighthearted
/j = joking
/hj = half joking
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itsnesss · 12 days ago
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𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 | kwon jae-sung × fem!reader
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𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 🎄
summary | fall behind in a snowstorm and try to stay warm
warnings | smut, masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex
word count | 1.8 k
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The wind blows so hard that you can barely stand. The branches of the trees creak around you as the snow falls. The dojo group had started the hike early that morning, but now it's just you and Kwon, separated from the rest and caught in an unexpected storm.
"This is useless" says Kwon, barely audible over the roar of the wind "We need to take shelter"
You want to argue, say that you can keep going, but you know he's right. Your legs tremble with fatigue, and the cold begins to numb your fingers. You follow Kwon as he moves forward with determination, his steps leaving a faint trail in the snow that quickly disappears.
Finally, he finds a small cabin. It is narrow, but enough to keep them safe from the icy wind.
"Inside" Kwon gently pushes you inside, shaking the snow off his shoulders before following you.
The cabin is dark and looks abandoned. Kwon leaves his backpack on the floor and starts looking for something in it.
"Are you okay?" he asks without looking at you.
"I'm fine... just a little frozen"
He watches you out of the corner of his eye, slightly furrowing his brow. Without saying a word, he takes out a thick blanket and hands it to you.
"Put this on" .
"And you? I don't want you to freeze because of me" .
"Nothing will happen to me" His tone is firm, almost authoritative, and you know there's no point in arguing.
You wrap yourself in the blanket, grateful for the warmth. Meanwhile, Kwon uses a lighter to try to start the small campfire. The flickering light illuminates his face, making his features look even more intense.
"I didn't expect the storm to arrive so quickly," he says, breaking the silence.
"Me neither" Your voice sounds calmer now that you're warming up.
For a moment, neither of them speaks. Only the sound of the fire filling the space. You dare to look at him, noticing the way his shoulders tense under his shirt, the way his jaw tightens slightly.
"You are surprisingly prepared for these things". Your comment is an attempt to lighten the mood.
He turns his head towards you, his lips curving into a slight smile.
"Preparation is key".
"Always so serious?".
"Always so curious?" he replies, but there's a glimmer of humor in his eyes.
You can't help but laugh softly, but the sound seems too loud in the small space.
"I guess it's my way of not thinking about the fact that we almost froze."
Kwon nods, moving a little closer to the fire. Then, his eyes meet yours.
"You did well out there. Not many would have held out for so long" .
"Is that a compliment?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"It's a fact" His tone is direct, but his words carry a weight you didn't expect.
The intensity in his gaze makes you look away, even though the heat in your cheeks has nothing to do with the fire.
"Why did you start at the dojo?" he suddenly asks.
"What?"
"It's a simple question. I've always been curious".
You hesitate, surprised that he is starting a personal conversation.
"I wanted something that would help me focus. To feel stronger".
Kwon nods, as if he were evaluating your response.
"You're doing it".
His words catch you off guard. You look at him, searching for any trace of mockery, but you only find sincerity.
"Thank you... that means a lot, coming from you" .
The silence returns, but this time it's different. There is something charged in the air, something that makes each breath feel heavier. Kwon moves, getting a little closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Come here" His voice is soft, but authoritative.
You approach, not exactly knowing what to expect. He places a warm hand on your cheek, his calloused fingers brushing your skin with a gentleness you didn't expect from someone like him.
"You are stronger than you think" he whispers before leaning towards you.
The first contact of his lips is gentle, as if giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you don't. Instead, your hands find his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss intensifies, and soon there is no space between you.
Kwon lifts you slightly, placing you on his lap while his hands roam your back, firm but gentle. The warmth between you contrasts with the cold outside, and everything else disappears.
"Are you sure?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice hoarse and laden with desire.
"Yes". Your answer is firm, without a doubt.
Kwon lifts you slightly, placing you on his lap while his hands roam your back, firm but gentle. You slide your hands from his shoulders to his chest, pressing your body against his.
"Mmm..." he says, pulling away slightly to kiss you on the cheek, then on the temple, caressing your neck with his lips. His fingers caress the inside of your thighs.
You can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his hips, his erect sex between your thighs, desperately seeking you, while his mouth covers yours and his tongue enters and exits. The kiss is intense, it takes you to a state of euphoria. His tongue mingles with yours.
"Do you want me to undress you?" he asks, barely able to breathe, as he pulls his lips away from yours.
"Yes, please" You sit up a bit to take off the sweatshirt and the sweater underneath. Your gaze stops at his torso. He was perfect in every way. You lower your gaze to the bulge in his pants and lean in to kiss it through the fabric, before unbuttoning his pants. His hands rest behind your neck, pulling you closer to his groin.
The tip of his member peeks above his boxers, glistening with the moisture that oozes out. You bring your fingers to it and wrap them around, feeling the heat and hardness and caressing it.
A sigh of pleasure escapes his lips and his fingers grip your hair as he gazes at you intently, his eyes shining with passion.
"It's big" you whisper. You make it slide up and down, feeling its weight and hardness. It's incredibly thick, but you've wanted to have it inside for so long...
"Go on, go on," he says, with a voice broken by excitement, trying to maintain control of himself.
You let go of him for a moment and take off your sweatshirt and blouse, leaving your breasts exposed to his eyes. He kisses them gently, one by one, and then covers you with his mouth.
He sucks one of your nipples between his lips, licking it and gently nibbling it. Then he switches to the other breast and repeats the same. You have the feeling that you're going to faint. You're coming just from imagining his sex inside you.
"I have to take this off" you murmur. "I can't take it anymore!"
You nod and take off your pants and panties. He tosses them behind you, and you sit back down on him, bringing your breasts to his lips and cuddling into his arms. His sex seeks you once more, and you can feel it pressing against you.
"Be careful," he says, with a whisper in your ear.
" I'll do it". You can feel yourself getting wet, ready for him. His fingers trace your thighs from behind and encircle them, opening your legs just enough to let his sex pass through. And you feel it caressing your vaginal lips, pressing against you, exploring you. The tip of his member enters you a little, stretching you slightly, dilating you, and the pain is slightly painful. You can barely contain the scream of pleasure that wants to escape your lips.
"You're so tight..."
You sigh and nod your head, making him go a little deeper inside you. His eyes have turned dark, his eyelids half-closed.
"I'm fine". he moves another couple of inches into you and his hips tense, but his fingers grip your thighs.
"Shit". Takes a breath with his mouth open.
"You are so great..." And you slip a little closer to him. "I don't know if I can hold back much longer".
"I'll make you feel very good, I promise." He says, his voice choked with desire.
You nod and take it a little deeper inside you. It almost reaches your limit, but it's right there, without pressing too hard. In your mind, you can imagine him inside you, filling you up, moving within you, and you get even more aroused.
"I can help you," he says. "I can move." He has a face contorted with passion, but you don't move an inch.
"Ok..." Her hips move up and down inside you, slowly at first, but increasingly faster, with more force, and your body moves back to give her space.
His hands travel down your back from behind and wrap around your hips, holding you against him. His fingers sink into your hips as his hips rise and fall, and his member enters and exits you, caressing you everywhere, making you feel whole, fulfilled.
The rhythm increases, becoming stronger and more intense, and you can feel how each of its muscles tenses and relaxes as it fills you. And you feel so good... So fulfilled, so complete.
"Oh! Kwon!" you exclaim, with a cry of passion.
But his penis is not enough for you. You need to feel his fingers on you. You slide back a little and feel empty, and you have to take a breath to move forward.
He penetrates you again and again, and you can't wait any longer. You lower your hands and wrap them around him, feeling his fingers caress your thighs as he enters and exits you over and over again. And when he stretches and fills you, you touch his fingers with yours, caressing his fingers.
His fingers wrap around yours and squeeze them a little, and suddenly you feel wet again, ready for him. You want him again.
He reenters you, and the pain makes you hold your breath. He enters you faster, harder, moving up and down between your thighs, and his fingers caress your vaginal lips.
"Damn it ..." he murmurs, his voice muffled
"Mmm..." You feel very good, relaxed, satisfied, ready for anything they want to do to you, anything they desire from you "Go on, please" you murmur.
He continues inside you, moving up and down over him. And you can feel the muscles in his back tense under your fingers every time he enters you.
His sex fills you completely, and each of his penetrations makes you feel a little more whole. Each of his penetrations is a promise of future pleasure, and you can imagine both of you ejaculating together.
And suddenly, an intense pleasure invades your entire body. Your back arches backward, your lips part in surprise, and pleasure envelops you completely. It's like a wave of heat, and you feel good, very good. You stop breathing for a moment, barely able to move. Your vagina tightens slightly around his member, and you can hear his ragged breathing against your ear.
" I love it..." he murmurs "I love being inside you" .
"Kwon!" you shout "Kwon, I love it!"
"I know, baby," he murmurs. His lips cover yours for a moment, softly, while his sex throbs inside you "I know" .
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