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haruhey · 3 years ago

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Mind If I Join You?

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Word count: 13k (i am SO SORRY i got carried away and this fic turned out SO FILTHY but i hit 300 followers so consider this a gift??)

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

There’s only one bed shower, and Daryl Dixon is an opportunist.

the request:

every single fic of yours is seriously amazing. ur a great writer!! can i request a daryl shower smut bc wooweeeee

There’s always a giddiness inside Daryl when he returns from runs. No more sleeping in the RV for nights on end, no more eating cold canned chicken soup and - as much as he liked Aaron - no more hearing him talk about how much he missed Eric and making him miss you, too. He’s exhausted, his muscles sore from overuse, but the fact that you’re probably curled up in bed makes him so damn excited that all the ailments of his aging body are swiftly forgotten with each step he takes.

Houses fly by in a blur as he ramps up into a jog, his feet taking him to the dim light of a moving lantern in your shared bedroom window. By Daryl’s estimate, it couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11pm, but time meant little in the apocalypse - it was either dark out, or light and with the days getting shorter, he noticed you using the lantern more and more frequently. Just a few days ago, you had fallen asleep curled up on his chest, the soft orange light filling the room before he strained his body trying to turn it off without waking you. The next morning he had a terrible cramp running from his rib up to his bicep, but he never complained. Not even a wince in your presence since he thought the soreness was worth it. He would rather die several times over than lose the image he saw - of your pillowy lips taking soft, steady breaths of air while you slept against his bare skin.

Smiling, he lets himself remember the way you looked when he first gifted it to you, a grin that spread to the apples of your cheeks and crinkled at your eyes plastered on your face. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but it looked close enough to the one you would both light on nightwatches in the prison - which he thinks was when he first realized he loved you. Daryl also remembers the first night he saw you use it, the memory so vivid in his mind that he felt like if he reached out, the soft fabric of your pajamas would welcome his touch.

He could picture it now, your back against the headboard, reading one of the books that littered the shelves he never touches. Your face bathed in the lantern’s hue while your eyes scanned the pages and drinking in every word of whatever you were holding. He plucked that book right out of your hands that night and pulled you onto his lap, kissing the pout off your face until you weren’t annoyed at him anymore, rendered down to just laughing against his lips.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home and see you again.

Daryl curses under his breath as he fumbles a little with the doorknob, but the profanities are quickly replaced with a huff of accomplishment as he practically sprints to the bedroom, boots shucked off haphazardly at the front door. He skips every other stair with long strides, desperate to feel you in his arms. When he enters the bedroom, he places his crossbow on the dresser and is surprised to see the room as dark as it is, the only source of illumination being the moon as it streams through the windows. The bed is empty and the blankets are strewn to your side, but neither you nor your pajamas are anywhere in sight. Panic flies through him before he registers the unmistakable sounds of the shower running, and he scoffs at himself when he sees the dim orange light peeking from beneath the bathroom door.

Had you known how worried he was for a second, you would have laughed at him. He was already so protective of you before the two of you got together, but it was another level entirely when you both made it official. It wasn’t just losing you to the dead anymore - it was also losing you to other people. Daryl knew you could take care of yourself, he had seen you hold your own on runs in the prison and trips outside the Alexandrian gates, but, God, if anything happened to you he wouldn’t know what to do. Being apart from you once when the Governor attacked was already almost too much for him to handle, but the thought of losing you and having to be okay with the fact you were never going to love him again? That was something he never wanted to experience.

Leaning against the wall, he pulls off his belt and places it next to his crossbow, his vest following not long after. The mattress squeaks slightly when he makes his way over to it and lies down, his body feeling almost instant comfort at the feeling of something other than the hard leather of his bike’s seat. Days like this made him think that maybe you were right in jokingly telling him that his motorcycle was a dumb choice for long runs - his tailbone was probably shaped like a rectangle from how long he’d been sitting on his ass.

A few moments pass as he allows himself to indulge in some rest, eyes closing and already in the first stages of a slumber before he shoots up, pushing himself to the edge of the mattress and sitting straight. Fuck, he needed to shower. He had given you his word that he would. Each time before he fell asleep after a run, he’d said; and Daryl Dixon was not one to break promises. Especially not to you.

Getting off the bed, he sheds his shirt and throws the old fabric onto the dresser, grimacing at the knowledge he would have to scrub at the dried walker blood come morning. His socks are next, pulled off by impatient hands and left on the floor, not even given a second glance as he then pulls open a drawer and grabs a pair of boxers from his meager pile. The only thought in his mind being the feeling of smooth sheets and your body against his skin. He’d pick up his clothes after his shower - if he could even muster up enough energy to.

Step by step, he makes it a good few feet out of the bedroom before he realizes the other second floor bathroom doesn’t work. If his memory served him correct, there were some plumbing issues and, before anyone could buy replacements, the world became, well, what it is now. After all, it was the only reason you and Daryl even took this house - nobody else wanted to have only one shower and, after becoming a couple, sharing one between two people didn’t seem all that bad. At least, that’s what he thought until now. Groaning, he rubs his eyes in an attempt to rub out the fatigue in them before his whole body lights up with an idea. Maybe he could have some fun with this. And if you asked, he could always blame the missing pipe or whatever it was that the Alexandrians couldn’t fix.

Practically thrilled, he mentally pats himself on the back and rushes back to the bedroom. Tired? Not anymore. Daryl can’t be if he wants to fulfill what just popped into his mind. Years of hunting leave his footsteps nearly silent when he enters the bathroom, but he’s not exactly at a disadvantage in terms of noise. The rhythmic beating of water against the tiled floor drowns out the slight squeak of the door as well as the hitching of his breath when he notices the gap. With how the room was designed, just standing at the door led his gaze in a nearly direct line of sight to you, the shower curtain lying an inch or two from the wall and offering him a vision which he doesn’t hesitate to indulge in.

It’s not like he's never seen your body - far from it, actually - but there was something about you that made him hesitate when it came to stuff like this. You deserved sweet and soft, affectionate with declarations of love between his kisses, and while he enjoyed giving that to you, sometimes he wanted something different. Sometimes Daryl wanted to act on impulse - to feel a different type of desperation - and tonight, he wanted to act out one of his long-hidden fantasies. One that involved you on many, many occasions.

Truthfully, he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it since Merle and his buddies showed him that damn VHS as a hormonal high schooler. He never really had a committed girlfriend or anything like that to ever even pluck up the courage to ask, but that fantasy remained like a phantom in the back of his mind, lying just outside his finger’s reach. One that haunts him late at night and renders him withering in his own palm. At least, that was the case. Because he has you now and how he managed that? He didn't know. But he felt confident enough around you and trusted you enough to pursue the desire in him.

A shiver courses through him, running along the tip of his spine when he considers the possibility you might like it as much as him - and if you did, maybe he would divulge to you more of these secrets he’s always kept hidden so well.

With silent movements, Daryl unbuttons and unzips his jeans as he leans against the door of the bathroom, just barely suppressing a groan when his fingers graze the zipper. He curses himself, chastising his sensitivity at the mere image of you doing something as mundane as taking a shower, but he knew it was an inevitable consequence. Ever since the prison, anything you did got him riled up - even just seeing you sitting on his motorcycle made his skin light up with goosebumps. Left in only his boxers, he steps out of the denim pooling at his feet and picks it up, throwing it haphazardly onto the cream coloured counter as he waits for you to take notice of his presence. The metal button clashes against the smooth marble of the vanity, and its noises sound across the room, your eyes opening and your fingers catching the edge of the plastic curtain as you dart your head out, searching for the source.

Your body tenses up, no doubt the experience of living out on the road for so long, but the fighting instinct drains from you the moment you see the affectionate boyish grin playing on Daryl’s lips. It’s barely visible as he stands so far from the meager light source, but it sends an eager smile onto your face. Like all those times he’s returned to you, you want to run to him, feel his arms wrap around you and inhale his scent as you plant those incessant kisses he ‘hated’ everywhere on his face, but that urge only serves to remind you that you’re standing naked in a shower and he’s just staring at you.

“Daryl! What the- I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin’, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ��annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙

@daryldixonluv @pulplorrd @fuseburner @hells-mistress @maria--grey-blog @marylimlp @pncnsc @tinachristeen @hail-yourselves @whimsicallymad @just-always-tired @phoenixblack89

comment to be on my taglist!

#haruwrites #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #daryl x you #twd smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon oneshot

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ordinaryschmuck · 2 years ago

Text

What I Loved About "King's Tide" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won't read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Here it is, ladies, gentlemen, and those of other genders! The Season Two finale of The Owl House! And holy s**t, what a season this has been! Season One wasn't bad by any means, but everything in Season Two is taken up a notch.

The characters, for one, are impressively well-written. After a season of getting to know our cast of misfits and weirdos, Dana Terrace and her crew finally get a chance to play around with them, introducing new layers and motivations that make almost every character multidimensional. Not only that, but we get introduced to new fan favorites, like Vee, Raine, and especially Hunter, with each of them instantly winning us over.

But the characters aren't the only things that are improved this season. The overarching story and the little narratives threaded within it are perfectly tied together. The writers managed to juggle so many plotlines in a way where they all flowed together well, giving each one its own time to develop while others moved forward. One complaint I had with Season One was how the B-plots always felt like filler, where the time they took away should have been used to better further the main plot. In Season Two, the B-plots are used appropriately, as they continue one plotline or develop characters while the main story focuses on others...Except for "Any Sport in a Storm," which had a whole section of an episode dedicated to Luz and Amity finding out how The Good Witch Azura exists in both the Boiling Isles and the Human Realm. Still have no idea why they wasted so much time on that when Amity simply saying, "Oh, I got them from a box that washed onto shore," would have taken no time. Still, everything else is so tightly written, and I was all there for it.

And the animation is where the improvements this season are more noticeable. Season One had fine animation, but in Season Two, there's more emphasis on shading, colors, expressions, and movements that make it a spectacle to see at times. You can tell Disney pumped more money into the series this time...which makes their inevitable betrayal to Dana and her crew all the more frustrating, but that's neither here nor there.

Season Two is damn near perfect. It does feel like there's little time to breathe with how much every episode throws in, but if I'm seriously going to complain about getting a lot of high-level quality we got each week with little room for filler, I might just consider myself insane.

Now, let's just hope "King's Tide" can do its job at ending this season on a high note. I'm sure there will be a lot of awesome action and heartbreaking emotions ahead of us, so let's dive into it, shall we?

Also…taking out the “Disliked” section…I won’t need it.

Spoilers ahead.

WHAT I LIKED

The Collector’s Getting Impatient: Once again, an episode starts things off ominously. Hearing The Collector spout off about how he wants to be free but Belos won’t let them shows us how childlike The Collector really is. Not only are they still naive to believe that Belos will hold his end of the bargain, but the way he’s whining about not being free yet is very childlike. Trust me, kids whine when you don’t give them what they want exactly when they ask for it. Granted, The Collector has more of a valid reason for why they’re whining. If I was trapped in that pokeball, I’d be screaming “Let me out” over and over again too. Regardless, with all the childishness in this scene, it tells us that The Collector is more of a unique type of godlike character. We’ll see more of that later, but for now, let’s appreciate this little taste of what this crazy kid could be like.

The Rest of the Opening Scene: Speaking of crazy kids, seeing what the others are up to after Luz let herself get taken away is just about what I expected. There’s a sense of panic and frustration between them all, escalating further with each second. It’s not until Willow gets the palismans to step in. What follows are a few nice moments of everyone sorting out their differences and even an adorable revelation for why Amity’s nickname is “Mittens.” When I first watched this scene, I didn’t think anything of it. I just thought it was cute, and that’s about it…and then the rest of the episode happened. From then on, it became clear that this scene was just the calm before the storm, easing us into the darkness that soon followed closely behind. And BOY did things get dark!

“There’s always a way to help. You just have to look for the right opportunity.”: Oh, Willow…Willow, Willow, Willow…

What you said was sweet and is very much true…but you pretty much doomed the planet by saying it. Because King was right. He WILL remember what you’ve said. For better and worse…

Eda DID Get the Brand: Well, there went that theory from the last episode.

I still stuck by what I said last time. Eda getting this brand is a betrayal of everything she stands for, so to go through with it proves how committed to the cause she is. If she’s willing to lose the one thing that makes Eda, well, Eda, it means that she’d do anything for the Isles. Such an action makes her far more than the con-artist we got introduced to in “A Lying Witch and a Warden.” Still, it leaves this sick feeling in my stomach to see her branded like that.

But don’t worry. That sickness gets replaced by sadness real quick.

Eda’s Talk With Raine, Lilith, and Hooty: Yup. That’s the good stuff…

This scene is everything. Eda already had a final moment with her kids, so to give her time with the other most important people in her life really hits hard. Raine and Lilith tell Eda to be careful, in which she reasures them both that everything will be fine. She even kisses Hooty on the head! That’s not only sweet as all forms of hell, but it says alot about how Eda sees her relationship with Hooty. He certainly got on her nerves a couple of times, but she cares about him enough to reassure Hooty that she’ll make it out alright. Granted, Eda doesn’t know that, but what’s she going to say? That things are as scary as they seem and that there’s a good chance things will go wrong? No. We know Eda, and we’ve seen that if given the chance, she’ll put a positive spin on things even though they’re dire. She did it with Luz in “Agony of a Witch,” and she’ll do it again here. I wouldn’t call it overconfidence, but rather Eda just caring about her loved ones so much that she’s willing to hide her own fears from them. Not the best thing to do, but it does further emphasize the nobility within her that the coven brand already revealed. And it’s incredible.

Belos Preparing to Leave: But if there’s anybody who’s best described as overconfident, it’s this son of a witch! You can tell how sure Belos is about his victory with how he quickly drops his act the second he begins the draining spell. He discards his old witch robes, makes himself look human, explicitly admits that he lied to The Collector, and just tells Kikimora to go die in a hole. Even when Luz shows up, Belos doesn’t look surprised or worried. If anything, it’s like he expected this to happen and was readily prepared for it. It’s not like he’ll be scared. Why would he? The draining spell has started and there’s very little that anyone can do to stop it. All he has left is to take care of this one “pest,” and he’s good to go in leaving everything behind. It’s a testament to just how confident Belos is in his schemes, to the point where he doesn’t consider that there’s the tiniest possibility that something could go wrong. Even though the people he disregarded ended up being what lead to his downfall.

But we’ll get into that. For now, we’ve got some action to go through!

The Kids (and Alador) Fighting the Other Airships: This is a pretty fun set-piece. The little ways that everyone works together to stop the airships attacking is extraordinary. They all contribute in a unique way with Gus covering them with an illusion, Hunter going for a full frontal assault, Willow saving Hunter’s dumbass, and Amity shutting down the abomitons while Alador drives their airship. It’s teamwork to the extreme, being a blast to see for every second. My only complaint is that I wish it could have gone on longer. I’m not saying I’m disappointed that we didn’t get an extended action scene. I just would have loved to see MORE. Still, I can live with how little we got.

Darius and Eberwolf Fighting Covenheads: This is another fight scene I wish was longer. Seeing Darius and Eberwolf fight through the covenheads to the best of their ability was awesome, not only in the ways that Darius and Eberwolf hold out on their own, but also for the chance to see what the other covenheads can do. Still makes me wish that we got an entire episode with them like we did with Terra and Adrian, but…eh. There’s literally nothing I or the writers can do to change that, so complaining that a series doesn’t give me more of something awesome is pretty petty at this point. Believe me.

So, I’ll take the little awesomeness for what it’s worth. Especially for the short character moments it gives us, like Darius stopping the second it looked like Eberwolf was in danger. I found that weirdly wholesome for some reason. I don’t know why.

Eda Telling Terra She’s Making a Mistake: Unfortunately, the wholesomeness doesn’t last.

The fear in Eda’s voice as she pleads with Terra to understand is something we rarely hear in her. There have been times when it’s evident how scared or worried Eda is for the people she loves, whether it’s Luz breaking into the Conformitorium or the Emperor’s Coven looking for Luz. This time, though, I feel like it’s the most afraid Eda’s ever been, and I can’t blame her. Literally the fate of EVERYONE is based on the draining spell failing, so of course, she’ll be scared out of her wits when it looks like everyone is going to die and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. It’s a moment that leaves them helpless, and some of HER fear bleeds into me.

But if you think Eda’s worried about everyone dying, just imagine how’d she react to what Luz is up to.

Luz Trying to “Make A Deal” with Belos: Don’t mind me. Just watching one of my favorite characters in all of fiction being turned to stone and can’t do anything to stop it. Carry on.

Real talk, though, this is the closest Luz has ever come to death…and I think she knows it. You see it in the way that she flounders to get Belos to agree in having Luz as a guide, as well as in how she begins to cry as the stone reaches her face. And what’s great (I can’t believe I just described this as great) is that Luz doesn’t appeal to Belos with kind words like she usually does with people. Instead, Luz uses logic, explaining to Belos that letting her live is the smartest thing to do. The reason that works is because reaching out to Belos’ humanity would be pointless. There’s nothing human left inside him anymore, so the only thing she has left is to use the one thing he understands: Logic. Still, it was an evidential shot in the dark that he’d take this deal, and you can all but see the relief in Luz when he does. And it’s a good thing he did…because it gave Luz the one thing she needed.

Luz Branding Belos: I feel like a show is doing something right when it makes me want to get up and cheer over a character doing something brilliant.

Seriously, moments like this are why Luz is one of my favorite characters in all of fiction. She doesn’t overpower her enemies, but instead outsmarts them. She is more or less a crafty strategist who uses her wits and environment to get a leg up on someone else, doing tricks like this that would make her adoptive owl mom proud. And it was a solid plan too…considering that–

The Draining Spell Begins to Take Effect: This…left me sick to my stomach.

Everyone realizing what the spell is doing and trying to just…run? Only to then realize that they’re trapped and can’t escape their fate? It was…horrifying. It was the most horrifying thing that I’ve seen in a kids’ show, and that’s saying something given all the s**t this series pulled in just this season alone.

Hell, even this episode seems pretty grim. Especially with what happens to Belos.

Belos’ Final Form: And people questioned my logic when I announced that Belos would be the Venom-stand-in for my Spider-Luz AU.

“Oh, I wOuLd HaVe MaDe HiM gReEn GoBlIn–”

Honey, look at this thing:

Does THIS scream Green Goblin to you?! COME ON, NOW! Come ON, now…also, spoilers for my Spider-Luz AU, I guess.

My bad.

Alright, now that I got my silliness out of the way, I really DIG his final form. I mean, it kind of sucks that his powerful magic is now restricted to evil rage demon, but at the same time…look at him! He's a horrifying looking creature, and I adore it. Plus, with all the ways that he attacks like a wild animal, forming weapons with…whatever the hell he’s made of, it results in a pretty cool final boss…even though our characters could hardly fight him.

The Kids Fighting Belos: What’s interesting about this is that nothing that the kids could do actually hurts Belos. Maybe trap or distract him for a couple of seconds, but never really leave a dent to him. Gus is the one to do the most damage by bringing up stuff that Belos hid away, and even then, that didn’t really hurt Belos. If anything, it pissed him off. And I’m weirdly ok with this. It shows that while Belos isn’t the same witch who can perform spells that Luz can barely keep up with, he’s still very much unstoppable. It’d really take a force of nature to put an end to Belos…Or, a godlike child.

And we’re CLOSE to getting to that. Trust me. There’s just one thing I want to talk about first. Or, rather, one gremlin

Kikimora: It’s always the ones you least expect.

Who would have guessed it would be Kikimora, Belos’ most loyal stooge, would be the one to help lead to his downfall? Turns out all it took was seeing his true colors and witnessing the end of the world.

Now, normally I’d prefer a villain’s redemption to be handled a little more…well paced, but I wouldn’t call this a redemption, per se. More like a character getting pissed off at another to the point of murder. Sure, she probably didn’t expect what The Collector would EXACTLY do to Belos, but I doubt she’d leave murder off the table after how he treated her. It truly shows that Belos’ own confidence in being unbeatable is what led to his defeat.

As for where Kikimora leads King…

The Gold Guard Graveyard: ANOTHER thing that leaves me sick to my stomach.

We all assumed that the Golden Guards in Belos’ mind was all he killed…but apparently that was REALLY stupid of us. Turns out, Belos is WAY more of a twisted f**k than we thought, as he’s killed dozens of “failures” to the point that he’s all but made a graveyard for them. It’s…awful. But it’s supposed to BE awful, so…you know. Job well-done. I guess.

But, hey, don’t worry…things get worse.

King Meets the Collector: I don’t know what interests me more in this interaction, the fact that the Collector couldn’t see King or that they originally wanted to play with him.

To be fair, both are pretty fascinating. The symbols in King’s “castle” being something to help him hide from The Collector proves that The Collector himself is worthy of being someone to hide from. All they want to do is play, but we’ll soon learn just the extent of why that’s a bad idea. But there’s still the fact that he knew King specifically, meaning that it’s possible that King’s father is the one who trapped The Collector in the first place. Because while hiding King is one thing, getting rid of the monster looking for him is another.

Through just one meeting of two characters who have never heard of each other until that day, we get so much lore and backstory behind both of them. But that’s not even the best(?) part.

King Makes a Deal With The Collector: This plan. THIS. PLAN.

This plan…is going to lead to some debate.

Because it’s a stupid plan. But at the same time, it’s the only thing that saves EVERYONE. Yet, it also led to people being in MORE danger. Meaning that while they’re still alive, would it have been better if they were dead? So as not to suffer the wrath of someone who could potentially be WORSE than Belos?

It is an interesting scenario where everyone wins, but everyone loses at the same time. And let me tell you: No other series, kids’ show or not, has ever made me question whether something was the right call. Because I can see why King did this, but I also imagine the destruction it could lead to. And for that…we’ll just have to wait and see where it could lead. For now, there’s one last thing I want to talk about before.

Raine Rips Off Eda’s Arm: I’m well aware that this sounds horrible out of context…but, I don’t know. How do you WANT me to say it?

This really is a brilliant solution that I’m surprised none of us thought of…Well, MoringMark thought of it. Technically.

But, yeah, ripping off Eda’s arm so that the spell would stop affecting her is pretty clever. The mix of the draining spell and the curse causes it to decay into nothing, leaving Eda free from the magic and maybe even the coven brand itself. So, that’s the good news…the bad news is the position it leaves her in.

Right now, Eda is missing an arm, holding the person she loves most as they die in her embrace, and has NO IDEA of the danger her kids are in. And THAT is where we leave her this season. In a very bad predicament that we have no idea how she’ll recover from it. Or IF she’ll recover from it, that is. It’s crazy to think about how this is the last time we’ll see Eda for MONTHS, all because a certain someone decided to steal the show. And steal it they did.

The Collector in His Physical Form: You know, I was already on board with this character when they were basically just a shadow. But seeing him in their physical form and finally getting a chance to shine, I am more invested in this character than ever.

In the last few minutes they were on screen, The Collector turns Belos into paste, moves the moon, and forms the Isles into his own personal playpen. In other words, The Collector is certainly going to be a terrifying antagonist. Yet, the crazy thing about them is that I wouldn’t say they’re evil.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s beyond nuts…but they’re also just a kid. Kids are nuts, yo! My nephew the other day said he’d rip Spider-Man’s butt off and then laughed like the little psycho that he is. The reason why I wasn’t worried about it was because I knew he was a kid who just didn’t understand how the world works and why some things are a bit messed up. It’s the same with The Collector. What he’s doing is messed up, but they don’t know that. He thinks that they’re playing a game and are unaware of how…fragile the players are. And THAT is what makes The Collector a unique antagonist. He’s a child with the powers of a god. They’re terrifying and insane, but in an almost innocent way. I’m not saying that because The Collector is a kid that excuses their actions, but I AM saying that after everything he’s done, they should expect a severe grounding when this series is over.

Unfortunately, this season has yet to end.

We’ve still got some more pain to go through…

Luz Trying to Stay and Keep Everything Together: Because, of course, she did.

Another great thing about Luz is her nobility. She doesn’t want to just run as everything is tearing down around her while there are people in danger. Instead, Luz will try to sacrifice herself at the first chance if it means someone she loves is safe. It’s what makes her Luz…but in trying to protect her loved ones, she ends up hurting them. Amity was literally begging Luz to come into the human realm, both because Amity doesn’t want to be apart again AND because she doesn’t want to lose someone else she loves. Alador ran off to distract the abomitons so the kids could be safe, and the twins are…Titan knows where, so if Amity lost Luz, she might just crack. And think of her friends? Do you think Gus, Willow, and maybe even Hunter would want to leave Luz behind so easily? But worst of all is Camila. How would she react to learning that her daughter is still trapped in another dimension while these four random kids aren’t? Something tells me she wouldn’t take the news well.

I get why Luz does this, but she needs to think more about the people she’s saving. For her greatest character trait is also her greatest weakness.

Just like how my greatest weakness is angst.

King Forcing Luz and Her Friends into the Human Realm: Yup…that hurt.

At the beginning of the season, King screamed how he would never let Luz go, caring so much about her that he doesn’t want to be apart. So to have King be the one to push Luz out the portal door says so much. Because while King values being with Luz forever, he cares more about her being safe above everything else. So, he does the one thing Luz could have done if the roles were reversed. And, just like Luz, he wasn’t aware of the pain this would cause.

Also, I didn’t want to be right when I said that Eda, Luz, and King’s scene together in “Clouds on the Horizon” would be their last scene together for a while. I really didn’t. But, yeah, that looks like where this is heading. And to tell you the truth, that might be more tragic than the Season Two finale of “Amphibia.” At least there, Anne may have been separated from Sasha and Marcy, but she wasn’t torn apart from her “family.” The Plantars still came with her to Earth, keeping Anne with the people she cares about the most. Here…it’s sort of different for Luz. She’s still with her friends, but her family is torn apart in all sorts of ways. Eda is stuck with Raine and a handful of dying witches, King is forced as The Collector’s playmate, and Luz is separated from both of them with no conceivable way of returning. A series is as strong as the bond between its main characters, so to have them separate like this leaves the series in a position where I don’t even know how the characters will resolve this.

So to end the season like THAT…earns so much of my respect

IN CONCLUSION

Is “King’s Tide” a satisfying conclusion? Is a hummingbird’s heart rate 1,260 beats per minute?

…Yes. The answer is yes–THIS FINALE WAS AWESOME!

There was great action and heartbreaking drama that still gave us some solid character building moments that led to a finale of epic proportions. I’m sure there are some nitpicks to be had, but I don’t care. Everything is done so well that why should I bother complaining about a few small problems that I might have.

An A+ all around, and I can’t wait for Season Three…whenever the hell that decides to come out.

#the owl house #the owl house reviews #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #what i thought about #luz noceda #emperor belos #the collector #toh the collector #king clawthorne #toh kikimora #eda clawthorne #raine whispers

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psychogirlfriendandsupervillain · 3 years ago

Text

Leading Question

One shot (ish)

Benny Watts x Reader*

(* Reader wears a skirt, has hair long enough to pull (like anything longer than a buzzcut) and a vagina, so anyone who identifies with that: it’s free real estate. I am considering writing a copy that is fully gender-neutral, so if anyone wants that let me know (although I’m likely to do it anyway).)

Content/warning tags: NSFW, 18+, Smut (but it’s the slowest pacing smut, talking slow-burn but they’re both already in the bed, no joke), fluff?, friends to lovers, mention of alcohol, swearing, oral (male receiving), making out, heavy petting, really a whole lotta kissing, porn with no plot?, the porn is the plot, foreplay more like half the fucking play, hair pulling kink, mention of knife kink, sex, plotted during a figurative and literal fever, edited during a figurative and literal heat wave, we love it here.

Summary: Benny half-confesses to his attraction to the reader during a night at the bar and reader takes his clumsily put question and turns it into a homerun.

Word Count: 7k (this is what happens when you give me THAT and then take it away)

A/N: Entirely self-indulgent piece of smut thought out during two hours at 4 AM (and then throughout the rest of the day) the day after watching Fork, because I was frustrated and Benny is hot, whoopsie.

@go-catch-a-chickn showed some interest in what I was writing, but I bet you regret that now! Nonetheless, here’s your tag, have fun!

I’m open to criticism, just shoot me a message or an ask. Let me know if I’ve got errors or missed a warning.

--------

You and Benny were friends since high school. Not because you also played chess, but because you had been making out with your boyfriend in the back of the library and Benny had come looking for a chess book that was on the shelf you were leaning on. You two paused, moved to the side so that he could pull out the book and then he was on his way.

A few days later Benny was in the cafeteria and came up a few cents short, when a voice next to him told the woman at the register that they would pay for his meal as well as their own. He looked over at you as the cashier added your things to the total and you smiled.

“Now you have money over for other things.”

It continued like that for the rest of both of your high school stays. You would catch him in the corridor and strike up conversations before heading off for you next class. When your relationship with your boyfriend ended (mutually, it should be said; he was interested in another girl, you felt the spark wasn’t there anymore), you told Benny after he asked why you looked a little glum. He was supportive but didn’t bring it up again.

Now the two of you are sat at a bar counter, a bottle in front of each of you, as the day is winding down. You meet up like this between his tournaments and whatever else is going on your lives, touchdowns in the well-known amidst it all. The buzz of patrons has calmed down and outside the curtained windows the street is black, broken up by spots of the streetlights.

“Do you-“ Benny stops. He’s half turned towards you, left hand around his beer on the counter, legs facing you, but his eyes are currently at the bottles lined up against the back wall where the bartender is pouring a drink for someone down the line.

You put down your bottle after a sip, resting your hand on it just like he is. Benny starts again.

“What do you do when your dick tells you to sleep with your friend, but your brain tells you it’s not a good idea?” He’s still not looking at you. It’s almost a hypothetical, almost a thought about someone else.

You shrug, taking a last sip before turning forward.

“I don’t know, I follow what my pussy says.” With that you get up and put money on the counter to close your tab, seeing Benny jump in the corner of your eye at your answer. You’re pulling on your coat as you start for the door, slow enough that he’ll catch up no problem.

“Wait.” He’s at your side in no time. “I’ll walk you to your place.” Even in the slight shade of his hat you can see that he’s a bit flustered.

“You sure?” Benny nods. “Otherwise I could walk you to yours. It’s farther.” You push up the inner set of doors and Benny follows you into the dark airlock entryway.

“Why would you want to walk where it’s farther?” He asks behind you, a frown audible in his voice, and you hold up your hand to signal for him to wait as you push up the second set of doors.

The air rushes against you and the hum of a road somewhere off campus reaches your ears. There’s no one on the walk path running between fields of grass and lines of trees. It’s still too early for the streets to be filled with people getting home from the bars, too late for any overtime workers dragging their feet.

“Honestly?” You turn to Benny, who’s standing with his coat still unbuttoned and arms hanging at his sides, like he isn’t sure what to do with them. “Because I’m hoping to get invited up, and if I’m going to get fucked, I want to be in your bed, surrounded by the scent of you.”

It takes a second. Then he’s a little bit closer. Not that he was far away before, but he’s close enough that when he leans a little forward you don’t have to take a step to close the gap. Your lips run against his, soft and slow, with the slight scratch of his mustache against your skin, warm cotton and leather so close now, and then you step back, absentmindedly swiping your tongue over your own lips to chase his taste. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips.

“Your place or mine?” Benny’s voice is a little rough; maybe it’s the drinking, maybe it’s the kiss.

“Again, yours.” You quirk your lip and reach to catch Benny’s hand, warm in yours. Pulling him into motion you start walking in the direction of his apartment, shoes echoing against the asphalt.

“I’m not sure I will make it that far.” He sounds a bit tortured, and you laugh, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you make it. And if you don’t, I’ll help you clean up and wait for you.”

Benny makes a noise.

“Tell me about Open Sicilian.” You look forward at the empty road as you walk.

“What?” He looks at you.

“To distract you, explain Open Sicilian to me.” He has explained that particular tactic to you several times before, not that it necessarily stuck too well.

“That’s not going to help!” Benny throws head back with a frustrated laugh. The sound makes your stomach flutter. “You’re going to make me tell you about chess, and then ask questions, to keep me distracted? Like you showing sincere interest in it isn’t going to just make it harder to focus.” He shakes his head, looking out over the empty street. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You would have gotten there quicker if Benny hadn’t stopped at every tree, stone wall, and doorway to push you against it and kiss you. He even sat down on a bench when you were halfway and pulled you down into his lap. You let yourself be pulled down but wouldn’t go along with his attempts to make you straddle him, despite his hand on your inner thigh through your skirt and his insistent, chasing kisses.

As you reach the building you let go off Benny’s hand so he can punch in the code for the door. He leads you up the hollow stairwell to his door, noisily unlocks it and lets you in before him.

It’s a short hallway with doors leading off to the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom, lit by some cool light falling in from the open doorway to the kitchen. There are hooks for jackets with a pile of shoes beneath it to one side, and a table holding a phone and newspapers further in.

The lock clicks behind you and Benny turns around, dropping his keys back down in his coat pocket. Just as he faces you, you push him back against the door. Shock flashes in his eyes and his lips part but when you place your against his he quickly responds, pushing back against you, his tongue running against your bottom lip, inviting you to taste it. It’s with difficulty that you pull back.

“Okay, I lied.” You admit as you get onto your knees, looking back up at him. “Can I?”

Benny’s breaths are unsteady, and you have to ask him to repeat it before you can clearly hear him consent.

You hum, pushing aside his leather coat to hold his hips back against the door, pulling his belt out from its loops so you can undo the buckle. Benny closes his eyes and groans as you let the belt with his knife still attached fall back against his legs and undo his button and zipper.

“Don’t be too loud, you don’t want the neighbors to hear you, do you? Even solid wood doors are thinner than walls.” You wink up at him and he repeats the sound, head leaning back against the door and hips pushing forward. If you didn’t believe Benny before, you definitely would now, as you feel how hard he is through the barriers of fabric. He’s solid and warm against your hands.

Pushing his jeans down, you move his boxers carefully until you can pull them down as well. Precum is leaking down the underside of his erect cock and his hips push forward again, impatiently this time. You circle your hand around him, the other resting against his hip so that maybe he’ll stay in place, not having the patience to start stroking before you take him in your mouth.

The sound Benny makes when your lips close around his cock is far too loud and not loud enough. His breathing audibly speeds up, encouraging you to run your tongue along the underside each time you pull back. Sucking down his cock, you match your movements with those of your hand, creating just the perfect rhythm that has his hips pushing against your other hand. You look up at him, meeting his eyes as you circle his tip with your tongue and he pinches his eyes closed, turning his head back up and cutting off the whine escaping his throat. You swallow around him, and the whine comes back, ending in a high pitch. You do it again. His hand pushes lightly against your shoulder, and you pull off him, sitting back and licking your lips as he meets your eyes.

“I don’t want to finish before we’ve even started.” His words are low, his hand falling back against the side of his coat. You shift your legs on the floor.

“Shame, I want you to.” You smile and bite your lip. “I told you I’d help clean you up and wait after. I’m in no rush.” Benny’s hips jerk forward again.

“Fuck” His eyes flutter shut.

“Can I?” You wait for the sound of his yes before you lick a line from the base to the head, reveling in how little he is holding back this time. Pushing his hips back a little rougher against the door to keep him in his place you earn a moan of your name which has your stomach fluttering and head spinning. One of his hands rest on your shoulder again but isn’t pushing away this time. He lets you decide the speed, albeit with the occasional jerk of his hips as he hisses and braces against the door.

“Fuck, I’-” You feel Benny tensing and look up to see him looking down on you, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw. “Fuck” He slams his head back against the door, hips pushing him further in, and you can feel the vibrations emitting from his chest all the way in the back of your throat as he releases into your mouth. You swallow it down, catching the whimper Benny makes at the feeling it gives his cock.

When you get to your feet, Benny head is hanging so the brim of his hat casts his face in shadow and he’s leaning so heavily against the door you’re not sure he’ll be standing much longer. His breathing is loud in the quiet apartment, and you can’t help the pride growing in the back of your mind. Still breathing heavily, Benny finally lifts his head enough to look at you. You meet his eyes and swipe your tongue over your lips.

His eyes flicker down to follow the movement and he groans, slumping back against the door. You smile triumphantly.

“Let’s get your clothes back on and then I’ll get water.” You help Benny get his pants back on, refastening the buckle. He’s not standing entirely stable, but enough that you can slide his coat down his arms and hang it up, followed by his hat, before you sit him down on a stool right by the door. Having hung up your own coat and switched on the lights you gesture to the kitchen door. “Do you mind?” Benny shakes his head, blond hair falling in his eyes.

You fill two glasses from the tap, throwing a glance at your watch, before returning to him. Handing one to Benny you drink the other, both of you listening to him regaining control over his breathing while you empty the glasses. As you take your last sip you place both on the hallway table and toe off your shoes.

“Want to move out of the hallway?” You hold your hand out to Benny and he’s standing before you’ve had a chance to blink.

You get precisely two steps into Benny’s bedroom before he’s kissing you again. His tongue runs softly against yours, contrasting with the scratch of his beard. He won’t even let you move forward, blocking you with his body until his hands have found their place on your hips, and even then standing stronger than you’d expect from how he looked a minute ago.

Every kiss he chases after you, when you move to the side so does he, when your tongue touches his lips his tongue comes to greet it. It’s overwhelming and intoxicating, his body heat rising and seeping through his button up and your shirt, the warm scent of leather still lingering in the air around him.

Then Benny moves backwards, pulling you with him three quick steps, refusing to let your lips part for even a second, and lets you fall on top of him on his bed.

You pull back, insisting despite his protests. He managed to switch some light on before getting lost in you, letting you full appreciate the shine in his dark eyes when he looks up at you as you brush blond strands out of his eyes. Flittering over you above him, they keep coming back to meet yours, a playful smile on his lips. You lean back down and let him capture your lips again, his hands splaying one on your back, one running up and down your side. Chasing his smile you kiss the corners of his mouth, dipping your tongue in to meet his. It’s like you’ll never run out of places to taste him.

Straightening back up and moving so you’re straddling him, you undo the first buttons of your shirt, but Benny’s hands stop yours, taking over their work with slow precision. He pulls you back down so he can continue kissing you even if it makes it harder for him to get the buttons undone, not that that seems his top priority. Sitting up and sliding the fabric down your arms Benny throws it in some corner of the room, pulling you closer against him by your hips.

“Easy, tiger.” You hum against his lips and Benny laughs a little, shifting further back on the bed and letting you both fall back against the mattress again, arms wrapped securely around your waist.

His necklaces are cool against your skin, but his hands are on fire. They run over your back and sides, up one down the other, and leave nothing but further fires under your skin. Even his rings don’t feel cold as Benny brushes his fingers up your arm to cup your head, tongue skimming your lip but withdrawing whenever you try to catch it.

Pulling back for the first time, Benny looks up at you with a mischievous smile.

“If I had known telling you I like you would lead to this, I would’ve told you already five years ago.”

Not that you’d really been open to anything at that time. Five years ago, and the five that followed, you had been entirely focused on your academics, and the only person you really hung out with had been Benny. He brought his chess books and sat with you in the library while you read up for exams. You’d chat about everything while trying to cram every bit of knowledge into your tired brains. That really only slowed down once you graduated, the hyper-focus on reading every book and spending hours writing notes over bad coffee.

“Do you want to like” You look up at the head pillows laying vertically to your bodies, and Benny starts laughing, luring you into doing the same. “move up?”

“Sure” He lets go of you so you can both get higher on the bed, but the second you’re close enough Benny pulls you back over him. “Better?”

“Much, thank you.” You smile and lean down halfway. Amused you watch Benny push up to meet you, hungry lips convincing you to push him back down into the mattress.

You can’t help the occasional shifting of your hips against his, underwear pushing against the friction of jeans below your skirt. His hands skim the hem of it, but never ventures below it, favoring to run up to your hips and draw you closer.

Running his hands up your back to hold you against him, Benny rolls you over onto your back. Settling between your legs, he braces one arm above you while the other cups the side of your head, lifting just enough for your lips to reach his.

“You know, for later, we’re still on your bed.” You remind him before kissing the corner of his mouth. Benny’s lips quirk and he follows you back down against the pillow.

“I know.” He runs his nose along the side of your neck, the chains around his sliding against your skin. Warm cotton and leather surround you, and this might actually be heaven.

Pushing back a bit Benny reaches up to undo his green button up but stops when you give him a look.

“Isn’t it my turn now?”

Benny lets go off the button and shows his hands, dropping them to your hips as you reach up, undoing the first button before pulling him down by his collar. His smile meets yours, and it only gets bigger for every button, as the release of each is met with the same celebration.

When there are no more buttons to open you slide the fabric out from his pants and down his bare arms. Holding the shirt out in one hand you look at Benny, whose eyes are locked on yours, his lips kiss-bruised.

“Does this have to be folded on a chair” You tilt your head. “or can I just throw it?”

“Throw it.” His eyes sparkle, his voice hitting a little lower and sending vibrations where your body is touching his.

The green fabric flutters to rest at the far end corner of the bed in your peripheral vision. You weren’t really looking where you were throwing.

“It didn’t even get off the bed.” You speak very seriously, as if it was a grave matter, but you’re absorbed by Benny, whose eyes are as stuck in yours as yours are in his. “If you want it off, you’ll have to throw it yourself.”

His arms shift above you, and without moving away from you or breaking eye contact Benny kicks the shirt, sending it tumbling of the edge with a soft thud as it hits the floor. You push your hips up against his, the hilt of the knife at his belt pressing against the inside of your thigh. Benny’s hips thrust back against yours and he lowers down to brush his lips against yours before devouring you again. Your thighs slide against his bare skin, and he reaches back to hook them further over his hips, swiping his tongue along yours. When Benny pulls back slightly the sound he makes fills the room, bouncing off the walls. The end of it mixes with the sigh of his name pulled from your lips as he dips the tip of his tongue into the corner of your mouth.

“Think we’ll wake the neighbors?” You lift off the bed to chase after him, not giving him a chance to reply, pushing him over onto his back. His hips shift against yours as he settles into the mattress.

“The walls are thicker than the door.” He looks up at you straddling him, his lips quirking up into a smile, blond hair falling over his eyes again. Satisfied with his answer you lower your body back down over his, occupying his mouth with yours again.

From slow, insistent kisses where Benny’s tongue runs against yours, you move to kiss the corners of his lips, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his forehead, and his eyelids as he closes his eyes. Continuing down his chin, alternatingly placing kisses on either side of his neck, and one at the dip at the base of his throat, passing over his chains, you shift back to trail down the right side of his chest. As your lips touch between navel and the top of his jeans, brushing along the fabric, Benny touches the side of your head.

“Don’t you dare do it again.” His tone is light and teasing, with just an edge of breathlessness and seriousness.

You move up to kiss his left hip and his hand falls back onto the mattress.

“I won’t.”

You trail back up Benny’s irregularly moving chest, out his right upper arm, and lift his hand. Pressing two more soft kisses to his inner forearm, you place one in the middle of his palm and one to the tip of each finger, before beginning again at his sternum and doing the same to his left arm.

Raising back up you push Benny’s hair from his eyes, inviting the light to dance with the sparks already in them.

“Benny Watts, you are a drug.” You smile a little breathlessly and shake your head down at him. The corners of Benny’s mouth start to raise, and he quickly swipes his tongue up to pull down his upper lip and bites down on his lower.

His attempts fail and when you kiss Benny, he’s beaming, a satisfied sound emitting from the chest pressed against yours. His heartbeats translate through your ribcage and your sentiment is repeated in your mind with a flutter in your stomach.

Ringed hands shift from your hips to your back to hold you closer against him. Somehow, you’ve forgotten Benny’s knife because you can’t even feel it at this point. You only feel the friction of his body against your, the pull of his lips.

“You should be in prison.” His tongue swipes into your mouth at that, stalling your continuation with a dizzying taste. “You should be in jail, and I should be in the same cell with you.” The vibrations of Benny’s laugh and twist of his lips reach your senses at the same time as the push of his hips. Combined they’re enough to make you say his name against his lips, repeating it when he does it again.

Lifting off the mattress Benny’s hands holds your hips down against his as he sits up, lips running down the side of your neck when they slip from yours. The scratches against your skin turn into fire running through your veins, out into your arms and fingertips as you run them over his bare shoulders, along the chains around his neck. You barely hear the sound of your name slip from his tongue against the crook of your shoulder, before Benny turns to make you fall first back into the mattress.

Benny’s hands run from your hips to the hem of your skirt, warm fingers tracing bare skin. You lift your hips against his and he pulls back, but only after sucking your lip into his mouth, swiping it with his tongue.

“Want me to get it off?”

“It’s mostly in the way at this point.” Having gotten his answer, Benny eases the skirt down, letting you lift your hips and moving so he’s not in the way. When it’s all the way off he throws the fabric the same way as your shirt, or maybe the opposite. You can’t remember.

Leaning back over you Benny brushes his lips against yours, meeting you when you arch up against him, then lets himself kiss you fully again. His hips push yours down into the mattress before he pulls them back up towards him. You roll back against him, crossing your legs behind Benny’s back, and he hisses against your lips. The sound of you saying his name causes the grind of his hips to stutter, restart, a low sound resonating in his chest, sending its aftershocks through your body as his hands squeeze your thighs a little harder.

One moves to skim the inside of your knee, hot fingers with warm rings running over equally heated skin. When it reaches the junction of your thigh and hip it slides up along the edge of your underwear and then drops beside your side to support his weight as Benny brings his other hand to hover between your legs and pulls away from your lips.

“Can I?” His dark eyes shimmer.

“Yes.” Since you can’t hear your own voice over the increased speed of your heartbeat you repeat it twice, catching the way Benny’s tongue darts out over his bottom lip as his eyes flicker down.

He runs his knuckles down the slick, wet fabric. You think you hear a breathed-out curse but are distracted when fingertips retrace the same path with just enough pressure to make your hips roll against them. The feeling is dizzying, your breathing skips. Benny’s dark eyes flick back up to yours. Then he does it again, sending sparks where the pads of his fingers almost touch you. Your eyes almost flutter at the way he looks at you when your breathing stops again to become what might have been a curse, or his name, or the curse of his name. The last one in particular feels likely as the sound twists and grows louder, and Benny’s eyes are locked on yours.

Pressing back into his bed you roll your hips against his, his hands planted back on either side of you as he lowers back down to press starved kisses to your mouth. Hips lift off yours, only to change their mind and push back down, accompanied by a curse against the corner of your lips. When Benny’s bottom lip slides against yours, you pull it into your mouth and lightly push down your teeth into it. His left arm buckles as you swallow the sound of his groan.

With little effort you coax Benny onto his back. He willingly falls down onto the pillow, rings sliding against your back as he tries to entice you into press against him. His fingers trail down, skimming along the edge of your underwear until they reach the front, barely touching the waistband, eyes flicking up to yours.

You give permission before Benny even has a chance to open his mouth.

The pads of his fingers push past the fabric, running softly your body until your breathing hitches as they lightly slip over your clit. You resist the urge to close your legs around his hand but can’t help the way your breathing audibly increases when it moves further down. Bare skin slides against your wet folds, stroking up and down; the movement slow and deliberate, and far too good for you hold it out for much longer.

You make a sound.

“Explain Closed Sicilian to me.” Your voice is strained, and you are trying very hard to not focus on every slight change in pressure Benny is subjecting you to right now. Another noise slips out and you bury your face against his chest, rolling your hips involuntarily against his hand. “Please, please explain it to me.”

“Now?” Benny’s other hand pushes against your hip.

“If you don’t, I’m going to come, and I’ve waited this long so I’d rather you didn’t do that before you’re actually inside me.” You lift your head to look up at him, quickly adding “Then again, you talking about that is just going to make it worse, so maybe don’t.” You did not need his eyes lighting up and his confidence going thrice its size because he was talking about something he really, really liked. That was bound to make your situation become much better and much worse really quick.

Benny looks like he’s about to protest before making a face and withdrawing his hand.

“Alright, fine.” He rolls you onto your back and kisses you hard, raising his hips as much as possible but keeping you down with his chest.

Letting you up to breathe Benny’s hands go to his belt, pulling it fully out of the loops this time. He catches the handle off his knife as it slides off the leather and off-handedly places it down on your stomach so he can roll the leather around his hand.

You must have done something as the sheath fell flat or as your eyes shifted up and back down again because Benny’s eyes flick from the belt in his hands to your eyes and then he smiles.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for knives too.” He teases.

“Listen” You’re a little too breathless for any type of denying being at all believable and it’s visible in Benny’s eyes how little he would actually believe you if you tried. “Messing with that takes practice and discussions, so let’s put a pin in that. I like seeing you get off, let’s leave it at that for now.”

He tilts his head like ‘fair enough’, finishes rolling up his belt and puts both that and the knife out of view to your left.

You reach up to brush Benny’s hair to the side where it’s over his eyes again, letting your fingers linger just above his ear. There’s something very recognizable about the slight way his eyes move at the gesture.

“Do you- like having your hair pulled?” You ask tentatively, and when Benny doesn’t answer right away you continue “You don’t have to say yes.”

It takes a second longer, and you start to pull your hand away before he shifts his eyes away and rolls his shoulders.

“So what if I do?” Benny glances back at you.

“I’ll tell you what” You smile encouraging, guiding the topic to focus on yourself instead to make him more comfortable. “you’d be in good hands; I like it both ways.” Benny visibly relaxes but you don’t move your hand back, favoring to slide it along his jaw to stop below his lower lip.

Softly tilting his head down, you give the slightest pressure. He follows down to peck your lips before drawing back to meet look at you again, hands rubbing reassuringly over your thighs. The pad of your thumb rests against Benny’s bottom lip, and you tilt your head, trying to read out the thoughts that form and disperse behind his eyes. The corner of his lip quirks up and he dips his head down to catch the finger in his mouth. The flat of his tongue maps your fingerprint, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You make a noise, shooting him a glare as he looks far too smug when you pull your hand back to press it against his back instead. The expression doesn’t leave his lips when you push his side to get him down, as a matter of fact he looks offensively at home against his pillow, shuffling further into it before beaming up at you again. Unable to stop yourself you scoff, trying to look annoyed but failing spectacularly.

“Think you’re ready to go again, if you want to?” You look at your watch, pinching the face of the clock to keep it so you can read the time. “It’s been an hour.”

“You still have your watch on?” Benny reaches up to pull your arm down so he can look at it.

You laugh.

“Well, you didn’t take it off me.” You let him turn your hand over, undoing the watch and looking at it for a second before handing it to you. Leaning over him you put it on the empty nightstand to your left.

“I’m so glad you’ve got two nightstands.” You hum, leaning back to resettle over his hips.

Thinking for a second, Benny makes a face, a mixture between a frown and scrunching up his face.

“It doesn’t make sense to only have one nightstand.” He states, eyes flicking back to yours. Smiling at his answer you bend down to peck his lips.

“That’s what I like about you, Benny Watts. Things can’t just be for you; they have to make sense.” Continuing in the same light tone you add “I might even go as far as to say I love you.”

“Woah, you’re just gonna show your hand like that?” Benny mimics shock, before smiling, his hands rubbing your hips reassuringly. “Throw the whole game?” You snort a little, moving your eyes to the wall, schooling your expression to be serious.

“As if you didn’t show your hand back at the bar.” You tilt your head exaggerated, pretend thought. “And earlier, now that you mention it.”

“I said liked.” Just like you, Benny is pressing his lips together to prevent himself from laughing, and even then, a smile cracks through.

“I’ll give you that, you did say like.”

Benny pulls you down, kissing you with a smile. Letting yourself sink into it you push down against him, swallowing the sound he makes and feeling his heart beating through his chest. His hands pull your hips closer to his to repeat the motion. His breathing increases as you do it infinitely slower this time, feeling you press against him, although you can’t say you are doing any better.

“Ready?” You laugh breathlessly and Benny groans, pushing his head back into the pillows.

“I was ready half an hour ago.”

“Well, good sex takes preparation. And this is going to be good.” Straightening up you putting the base of your hand on Benny’s chest, holding your index in front of his face to shush him. “No, no, it’s going to be, because I’ll make it so.”

Instead of arguing, with sparkling eyes Benny favors to bend his head forward and close his mouth around your finger, sucking while you talk. His tongue swirls around the digit and the corner of his lips quirk up when you make a sound, mind drifting before you catch it.

“Asshole.” Benny’s eyes light up mischievously at that, and when you pull your hand back, he raises his eyebrows.

“Oh you wan-?”

You cut him off.

“Shut up.” The bed shakes with Benny’s laughter, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. He’s really having too much fun.

When his laughter calms down, Benny looks at you for a second before sitting up.

“Come on”

He nudges you sideways until you get the hint and get off him, letting him get off the bed. Benny offers his hand to pull you up after him. When you’re both on your feet he turns back and in one quick motion rips off the covers, throwing the corner to the middle so the bed is folded half-open diagonally but not all the way down.

You’re just letting your underwear drop onto the floor when Benny turns back around, and he catches up with you in the time it takes you to blink. He holds his hand out again, pulling you with him backwards.

Jut before his legs hit the bed Benny sidesteps, pulling you down first onto the bed and following, catching himself on his arm so he doesn’t fall directly on top of you.

Settling between your legs, Benny tilts his head with a cheeky smile.

“Comfortable now?”

You make a show of settling into the pillow, trying to divert his attention from the way you pull air deep into your lungs. It’s in the pillow, the sheets, the air vibrating around you with tension, but most of all it’s above you, radiating from him. The warm, slightly sweet, smell of clean cotton shirts pulled from the tumbler, a bed slept in until well past noon, and sun-heated leather in the first days of summer.

“Yes.” You smile up at him.

“Good.” Benny lowers down over you and presses his lips to yours, tongue running over your lip once before slipping into your mouth. You hum while he pulls protection from a drawer of one of the nightstands above your field of vision and pulls it on.

Fingers skim lightly over the wetness gathered between your legs, and then Benny pushes into you. It sends lightning through your stomach, sliding slowly, almost torturously, against sensitive nerve endings. His breath is slow and controlled, albeit a bit wavering. Solid warmth spreads from his body into yours and your body clenches involuntarily around him when he stills, breath warming the side of your neck. Your hands run up his sides to find purchase.

“You’re gonna mark me?” You ask the ceiling and Benny shifts, running his nose against your throat and giving you chills.

“You want me to?” His hips pull back slightly, and you close your eyes at the slow drag of his cock against your inner walls. As Benny pushes back in, one hand disappears from beside you, moving your hand from his back to his hair. Sparks dance up your spine when he thrusts a little quicker, igniting you both like a match against a striking surface. Benny makes a sound in the back of his throat before kissing you again.

Carding your fingers through his hair near his scalp you pull lightly. The way his hips jerk forward has you arching against him, moan mixing with his. Tension builds in your stomach and if the room was hot before it is blazing now. Benny presses against you, overwhelming and perfect, filling you. Your hips lift off the bed to meet his, legs crossed behind his back to pull him closer. The drag of his abdomen against you in just the right place has you whining against his lips. His next thrust is faster, causing your body to clench down, approaching the edge fast.

“I’ve waited this long to fuck a master; you better not make this be over quick.” Your hips arch against his despite your breathless words.

“You call an hour and a half quick?” Benny asks in disbelief, but the roll of his hips slows to delightfully slow, burning pulls. He closes his eyes, breathing becomes deliberately slowed. “I’m not going to last long no matter how slow I go.”

“That’s okay, neither am I.” You quirk the corner of your lip as Benny opens his eyes again and pull him back down to your lips. Trying to starve of your orgasm you focus on tasting every corner of his mouth. It seems to have the opposite effect on Benny, as he whines and his hips stutter. One of his arms buckle and you pull your hand free to direct his to your hair before going back to his.

The first slow drag releases a satisfied noise from you, and the slight sting of the next sends a thrill down your body, connecting with where Benny’s cock pushes into you. He slides his tongue against yours, pulling your head close to his.

“Fuck” The word falls from both of your mouths as your fingers pulls the blond strands they’re tangled in, and Benny’s hips jerk forward. You push your hand against his lower back to push him down, deeper, and he pulls your hips up with his free hand, grinding against you. His eyes glitter with pride when you arch, pressing your head into the pillow, mouth falling open.

Unsatisfied, Benny slows even further, changing thrusts for slow grinds, watching you trying to make a sound with a smile, heels pressing into his lower back. Your eyes flutter, trying desperately to stay open, pleasure coursing through you in unrelenting waves. Meeting his eyes, you jerk your hand a little harder in Benny’s hair, and the sound he produces almost has you falling.

His hand pushes between your bodies as he moves faster again. The pleasure is hot and fast, and as Benny pulls your lips to his it explodes, fire shooting through your veins in search of oxygen and shaking your entire body. He swallows the cries of his name falling from your lips, but then his hips stutter and slipping from your lips he repays the praise. It’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s so fucking hot.

Benny drops his head in the crook of your neck, weakly trying to hold himself up. Your chest pushes against his until both your accelerated breathing reaches the same rhythm. There is pleasant ache starting to make itself known, one you’re sure you’ll be feeling tomorrow, and perhaps the day after that.

Softly you push Benny over and he lets himself be rolled onto his back, still inside you. Head landing on the pillow he takes a few more breaths before his eyes pop open. When they meet yours there is a content smile on his lips, with only a hint of unsedated hunger still visible in his dark eyes. He reaches forward to meet your smiling kiss and lets you pull off him and roll onto the mattress beside him.

After a few seconds of just the sound for your breathing your voice comes alive again.

“I hope we didn’t wake anyone.”

Benny starts laughing, breathlessly and beautifully, and you scrunch your nose playfully at him.

“I hope we did.” He looks at you, eyes brilliant, and adds in a more serious tone. “I think they’re all asleep so they can get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow.”

You reach over and pull your watch from the nightstand.

“Two isn’t a reasonable hour to be up?” Benny snorts a laugh at your fake naiveté as you settle back into the bed.

There’s a few more seconds of silence before he talks again.

“I still only made you come once.” Benny looks at you, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up; the hunger more than unsated now.

“That’s okay” You smile teasingly. “I wouldn’t expect you to, you did all the hard work.”

Benny doesn’t find an answer to that, but you have a feeling neither of you think two is very late at all.

#I fucking called the watch thing I'm so proud!#I'm glad the internet agrees that Benny has both bi and switch energy #benny watts #benny watts x reader #the queen's gambit

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infernalrevenge · 3 years ago

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Nerves to the Nines

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: T (for negative self-talk in some parts)

Summary: Reader is attending the Gathering of Lords with Alcina and is too nervous to even dress themself properly. Luckily, their lover is here to save the day.

Notes: I have no idea if Alcina may be OOC here, just know that I love the thought of very powerful and intimidating people being soft and protective only for those they love, and that's partly what spawned this thing. That, and the idea of how intimate it is to have your significant other help you get dressed for an important event (that I completely made up for the sake of this fic.)

Also thank you so much for 50 followers :D May not be a big number, but it's more than I expected when I started writing here a few months ago haha

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Two hours to go before the Gathering of Lords.

You went through the mental checklist as you assessed yourself in the mirror. Hair done, make-up done, clothes... well, most of them were on.

You wanted to dress to impress, but not stand out either. A black button up rested on your frame and loose wide-legged pants to match, where your cream-colored shoes peeked out from the bottom. The burgundy blazer you were going to wear over it was hung in front of your closet, and the white rose you would pin onto the lapel sat on the vanity.

It was meant to be an inverse of Alcina's usual attire. She was going to bring a burgundy shawl as well to complement the outfit. Daniela said it would look cute.

But right now, the idea of wearing an extra layer was unwanted. You were too warm right now, and the last thing you wanted was to sweat through your clothes. Everything had to be perfect -- you had to be perfect, lest you sully the "good name of House Dimitrescu" in front of your lover's siblings, and Mother Miranda.

You knew how important tonight was to Alcina, and she wanted you to be a part of it all. She was looking forward to it as much as you and the girls were; when Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were told they could come, they immediately squealed and started chattering away with you about what they were going to do, what to wear, what you were going to wear, and seemed to already have everything planned in their heads. Their excitement rubbed off on you for the rest of the week, and the happy jitters only got more intense with every passing day.

But the closer the time got to leaving for the Gathering, the more those jitters made you feel like throwing up.

You sat in front of the mirror and idly fiddled with your unbuttoned sleeve cuff, feeling the nerves of tonight bundling up in your chest. One leg bounced under the table impatiently; you had to get the energy out somehow.

You want to go, you reminded yourself. You wanted to go. You still want to go... right? You had been looking forward to this all week, of course you want to go. Just pull yourself together. You took in a deep breath and clapped your hands together.

Wait, when did they get so sweaty? If you tried to shake anyone's hand, they'd be weirded out and disgusted. How can you get it to stop? This is so stupid, why are you worried about sweaty hands all of a sudden?! Control yourself, idiot! This was not the time to worry about such trivial matters, but why did it feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest? It's going so fast, you started to wonder what it could be running from.

This was a mistake, you shouldn't go. You'll just embarrass yourself, and Alcina, and you can't handle that kind of pressure. The scrutiny you'll be under would be crushing, you could practically feel the air getting sucked out of you. This was a mistake, this was a mistake.

You undid the buttons on your shirt, ready to take it off. Just say you don't feel well, that's a good enough excuse. This was a mistake, this was a mistake--

"Y/N, are you alright?" You heard her voice in your room, and she had already ducked inside by the time you turned around. You sucked in a sharp breath.

I'm not feeling well, I think I should stay home.

The lie you had concocted got stuck in your throat as you looked up into her golden eyes, clearly concerned. You didn't want to worry her. You wanted to go. You did.

Instead, you swallowed it and tried to keep your voice steady, "Yeah, yes. I'm just, I'm having a bit of trouble with..."

You looked down at your fully opened shirt, gulping again. "I can't..." Why won't your hands stop shaking?

"What's wrong, my love?"

Alcina was standing at full height, and to any other person, having her look down at you like this might have felt condescending -- an effort to exert power and establish authority. But somehow, being under her shadow in what had felt like a bright room... it was comforting. Just to know she was there, physically. To know that she saw you as you were at the moment, trying to be brave.

"I'm just... nervous, that's all," you finally managed to admit, and it felt like a weight had just been lifted off your shoulders. You relaxed only a fraction though, remembering what the night was going to bring.

In about an hour and a half.

She sat down on your bed, her knees tucked in a bit considering its height. "Perhaps if we talk, you can settle your nerves." She presented the space in front of her, as if she knew you couldn't bring yourself to sit at the moment.

You started rolling the button on your cuff between your fingers, your arm close to your chest like you were trying to protect yourself. From what, you weren't sure.

"What are you nervous about?" she spoke softly, quite a contrast from the usual commanding tone she took on when she spoke to almost everyone else. "Are you worried about not looking right? Because I assure you, darling, you look wonderful -- you deserve nothing less than the best."

"No, I... well it was your idea for us to dress like this, so no, that's not... what I'm worried about." You looked up from under your lashes. Her eyes were still focused on you. You wanted to squirm, and your next words came out softer than you wanted them to.

"I just... don't wanna mess up."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you." If you were any other person, she might have lost her temper at your mumbling. You almost flinched at the thought, but you knew she would never. Not with you.

"I-I don't want to mess up." You said a little louder as you folded your hands, one holding onto the other wrist. "You know, like, in front of your siblings, in front of... Mother Miranda... I'm afraid of embarrassing myself in front of them."

She frowned and leaned forward, "What could you possibly do that would embarrass me?"

You shrugged, wanting to shrink in on yourself. "I don't know, I might say something weird or do something that'll seem off, or just, I'm not sure. Something's probably gonna go wrong. Maybe even being myself is embarrassing enough," you joked.

"Darling, you are not embarrassing," she assured. You didn't know if she knew that you meant it as a joke, but she said it with such sincerity that it pulled some of that weight off you once more. It brought a small smile to your face.

"Do you not want to go anymore?" she asked worriedly, and you snapped your head up at that.

"No, I want to!" You answered so fast that Alcina seemed surprised but definitely not displeased

"I'm excited to go, I really am. I'm just not sure if I'm, like, ready to face the others. I wanna go, but I don't know, I can't explain it, I just don't want things to go badly because it'll reflect on you and your daughters and I know how much you want to be in Mother Miranda's favor so I--"

She took your wrist without a word, so gentle in her handling that you barely noticed it at first, and you trailed off. Her fingers fixed up your loosened cuff -- oh, right. Any more stubborn fiddling with it and you would've taken the button right off its threads. She did the same with the other cuff, a calm yet unreadable expression on her painted face.

When she finished, she gently smoothed your hair down, traced your jawline with a finger and tilted your chin up to look at her. "If you're worried about what everyone else would think, I understand. But you are my significant other, my lover. I trust that you'll be wonderful, so know that at least one person there believes in you."

It felt like you were really seeing her for the first time that night, looking so proud when she talked about you. She took the opportunity to fix the rest of your outfit, buttoning up your shirt once more, and kept talking to ease your mind.

"Don't ever doubt me, Y/N, because I've seen you at both your best and your worst, and your best is more than enough for tonight. If they can't see that, then it's their loss, not yours."

You could feel her words physically calming you, heartbeat steadying as you saw the loving gleam in her eyes.

The lady sauntered over to your closet, taking your blazer and handing it over to you. "Now, I believe you're missing a piece, my dear." You hadn't even noticed until then that she was already wearing her shawl. A gentle smile finally broke through your facade as you pulled it on in front of the mirror.

Alcina stood behind, laying her hands on your shoulders when you seemed satisfied. "A perfect match," she cooed, leaning down to face you, so close that you could feel her breath against the shell of your ear. "Wouldn't you say?" You could feel your heart racing again, but it wasn't from any nerves this time.

But before anything could be done about it, the moment was interrupted by multiple knocks on the door, followed by a loud thud. "Mother, Y/N, we're ready!" Bela called out from the other side, fussing over her sisters immediately afterwards. "May we come in?"

Alcina raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well? We shouldn't keep them waiting."

You felt loosened up for the first time that night, ready to face anything with Alcina by your side. You pinned the rose in place and took one last glance in the mirror. "We could always be fashionably late."

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years ago

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COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida, it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah… and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

＊

(Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

Rin 9:56 am: ???

Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

(Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

Rin 9:58 am: Ya

(Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

(Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

(Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

(Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

You wanted to know more.

Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

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popculturebuffet · 3 years ago

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Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers Part 3: Storkules in Duckburg! aka THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES TERRIBLE BUT WELL MEANING ROOMATE OUT OF MYTH

Hello all you happy people! And welcome and welcome back to Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers, my look at the season 2 arcs of Ducktales! This arc was paid for by WeirdKev27 and I truly enjoy his support. if you want to know how to commission your own reviews or to get a guarnateed review of me of your choice from me a month, stick around to the end. I realized that shoving all my plugs in up top may be driving people away and while I DO make them because I want to make a living off this, i’ts not fair to those of you who simply can’t afford to buy a lot of extra shit like myself to keep shoving it in your face.

Previously on the Louie Inc Arc, Louie, after believing he had no skills and it was a matter of when not if he ws going to die, found his talent: seeing all the angles and thus being Sharper than the Sharpies. With newfound confidence and a chip on his shoulder from Scrooge saying he could one day be a bigger success than Scrooge himself, founding Louie Inc as a result. But what is Louie Inc? Does he actually have a plan or a bunch of buzzwords. And what does STORKULES, MANLY GAY OUT OF MYTH have to do with any of this? Join me under the cut to find out.

We open with Louie giving Scrooge his sales pitch that is essentially...

Naturally Scrooge buys none of it. I mean he’s somewhere in his hundreds, he’s probably seen about 80 thousand pitches that amount to “I have no plan but give me money anyway”. There’s a reason there’s a Butch Hartman shaped crater on the lawn from where he threw his ass out.

Scrooge does mentor the lad, or at least attempt to pointing out he needs an actual product or service (Louie rejects the idea of a lemonade stand as too easy), or as he puts it “Find a problem and create a solution”.

While the basic PRINCIPAL isn’t bad, find something people want or need and provide it, phrasing it that way sounds like “find a problem people are having and exploit the shit out of that problem for fun and profit.” Granted that IS a guiding principal of business, it’s just not something an uncle should be teaching his kids. They should be teaching them about the anime and cartoons they grew up with as I do with my niece and nibling.

He does show him a valid example of this in action in the form of Donald. Turns out Donald has found a good way to make money while he looks for a job, can relate: since Duckburg is facing a housing shortage, likely because several square blocks probably get destroyed by Scrooge’s Adventures, Glomgold’s Schemes, Superhero Battles, whatever creation went horribly wrong for Gyro, etc at least once a week. So he’s taken it upon himself to offer up the spare room to whoever can rent it.. and to steal Scrooge’s chandelier which even when caught he still takes anyway. Scrooge.. you called the guy a god-damn moocher in the season premiere, despite the fact he lives there soley because YOU offered and because he’s you know, being responsible and staying by his boys so they have their father figure around. So yeah I feel he’s doing this partly out of spite as is the McDuck way. I mean if your going to call him a freeloader just for being a responsible parent, then he’s going to take it up a damn notch.

Scrooge proceeds to laugh off Louie wanting a million dollars and gives him a dime instead because of course he was. Seriously Louie there are two other billionaires in town who are FAR dumber and far more easily swindled. Just go get star up capital from them. Hell with Glomgold all you’d have to do is tell him it’d upset scrooge and he’d literally throw money at you. Or give you a shark full of money. He needs the shark back though. He’s family.

Meanwhile Donald prepares for his new tenant and finds.. THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES! Who to his mounting horror as he realizes it, IS the new tenant. And who throws him into the sun. Cue credits.

So after Donald somehow survives being thrown into the sun, Storkules explains why he’s here: Zeus responded to his son playing the lute a lot like any rational reasonable

No of course he responded to the “crime” of “playing his instrument a lot” with sending a swarm of harpies on the town then blaming Storkules for it and casting him out. What’s most shocking is not the action, this is honestly him staying the course of being a fucking disgrace, but that Zeus somehow ISN’T the biggest asshole i’ve dealt with this week. No that honor is reserved as always for this bitch:

Keep in mind she manages to be this obnoxious in only TWO scenes. Also keep in mind I had to put up with Julie for a MUCH larger chunk of the previous two volumes I covered before volume 5 yesterday for my Scott Pilgrim Retrospective and she is ALWAYS like this and you now feel my pain.

This does create a problem though: Zeus casts Storkules out until he’s a responsible adult.. and thus paints Storkules as the bad guy... in a situation where the only other person in the story sent a swarm of HARPIES down at him for simply playing his music too loud. It just dosen’t work as a catalyst: Storkules objectively did nothing wrong. The only person he annoyed was a person who clearly dosen’t love, respect or like his son in any way shape or form anyway and essentially assaulted him and a bunch of innocent people via harpie and then cast him out. Zeus is an abusive asshole and i’ts weird the narrative sides with HIM and not our well meaning doofus. Zeus being an asshole with harpies is not a bad catalyst for the episode, and the harpies being unleashed is used well.. it’s just not a good catalyst for THIS story to try and portray an abuser as in the right. And make no mistake Zeus is a domestic abuser: he had his son mind controlled to try and MURDER innocent people, something Storkules begged him not to do, sent a swarm of creatures after him for the crime of playing his music too loud and in his next episode manipulatives Storkules sad emotional state for personal gain. Why would you try and paint THIS jackass as in the right?

Speaking of painting this jackass in the right sadly.. this episode does not do my boy donald justice. In most episodes he’s pretty nuanced and i’ts fair enough he’d be frustrated by Storkules as a roomate. Storkules has little sense of personal space, breaks his stove thinking theirs hydra in it, makes a mess of the kitchen making them a meal, and in general clearly dosen’t know how to live with a roomate much less in modern society. He has valid concerns and the episode COULD have used it that way.. but he’s also horribly impatient with Storkules. He refuses to get the guy just hasn’t had to live in a modern society and dosen’t know HOW to function in it and instead of helping him just gets mad again and again and gets really pissed when it’s clear Storkules dosen’t have a job and didn’t consider paying rent. He’s not WRONG to want him to pay Rent, despite what ironically the musical Rent would try and have you believe, but he dosen’t have any patience with the guy. And stork isn’t nearly coming on as strong as he normally does. The worst he does is cook the guy lunch and bring his donald fan art with him. Which we don’t see but I am assuming is mostly naked. What i’m saying is for once that while still bombastic, Storkules isn’t trying to force a relationship/friendship on him and simply wants to learn t be an adult from his best friend.. and Donald isn’t bothering teaching him.

Asking for rent or for him not to destroy the stove is fine, but not explaining WHY he needs either of those things or why he needs boundaries, he makes a roomate list, isn’t helping the guy. And this would be fine... but the episode dosen’t call Donald out on it for no real reason. It feels like it’s setting up for a “you should learn to wokrk with someone instead of just screaming at them aseop” that never comes and like with Zeus takes his side because shutup. I’d also LIKE to say this is the only time the writers reduced one of the cast to a caracture of themselves.. but I can’t. Several episodes in season 3 forgot Louie’s character development and another episode in season 2, The Duck Knight Returns!, somehow reduced both Scrooge and Dewey to parodies of themselves with Scrooge SOMEHOW, despite Della as stubborn as she is being in his care and by his side for decades and Movies bein ga huge business, not having seen a movie since the 1920′s and not knowing how they work and Dewey being reduced to just hyperactive moron. It isn’t as common as other shows like say Regular Show, The Loud House or, for the exact reason I lost intrest, Rick and Morty, but I still expect better, especially since they went into this season KNOWING Donald would be gone for half of it and this would likely be one of his only spotlight episodes.

Back at the good part of the plot, Louie is having a company meeting aka already treating Huey and Webby like his employees. Webby of course is glad to sign on, if little help in actually coming up with a product while Huey just wants to nope out. And if your wondering why Dewey isn’t involved Louie outright says he’d make a bad employee and while Dewey rises from his bed to object.. he stops halfway to opening his mouth and concludes he has a point. Best gag of the episode. Louie being louie easily cons Huey into staying by making Webby his charts officer.

So the three have a corporate retreat at Funso’s... granted they don’t have a product but Louie figures this might help. Huey.. still wants out of this and suggest since they already spent what they had on ski ball “Company over?”. It’s clear that Huey just sees this as another one of Louie’s short sighted schemes... and while he’s not ENITRELY wrong, Louie has genuine ambition.. he just has no earthly idea what he’s doing and is shooting way too high.. but for understandable reasons. 1) He’s 11 at this point. 11 year olds aren’t great at business strategy or reinging it in. 2) he wants to live up to what Scrooge said to prove he can be successful and really be worth something like his mom was.

But sometimes fate throws you one and the harpies bust in. And while Louie wants to do nothing and hope they go away Huey and Webby spring into action.. as does Storkules, who had to leave but warns donald there’s Orzo in the slowcooker and to not open it “LEST THE PASTA FAIL TO ABSORB THE BROTH!” Which is just.... Chris’ best line dleivery the episode. He says it like he’s saying the title of an old Stan Lee and Jack Kirby comic, i’ts wonderful.

So our heroes defeat them and Louie steps in to charge for the service and quickly comes up with a company idea and name “Harp-B-Gone” (A Subsidary of Louie Inc). Louie hires Storkules on the spot. Storkules proudly tells Donald he has a job the next day and goes off to it. What follows is our heroes hilarously shooting a commerical with Storkules playing a baby to promote themselves so they can help who needs it. They just need to find out what they want.. and thanks to the JWG and the harpies stealing it find out they go after people’s most treasured posessions Cue Ghostbusters-Style Montage

And this isn’t just me saying thing. The Rewriting History Entry (Which as a series weirdly stops around mid-season 2 and I don’t get why frank hasn’t gone back and finished it since) states they specifically based this whole operation on ghostbusters and the entire sequence of our heroes cleanin up the town reminds me of it. The highlight of it is a glomgold cameo where he’s kidnapped.. and refuses to pay so Louie just lets him go. And were this an innocent person who couldn’t afford it, i’d call him a monster.. but it’s glomgold. he brought this on himself.. and also sues himself for it. Wonder if he won.

So with their stars rising, our heroes get booked on the hottest show in town: Dewey Dew-Night! I had honestly forgotten there was a Dewey Dew-Night segment in there, and delighted I get to talk about this recurring bit. It’s one of the shows funniest runners and just perfectly FITS Dewey: of course the most egotistical and energetic of the kids would not only want to be a late hnight host but make up his own show. I also love the slow evolution of it: it started as something everyone clearly knew about but he stlill tried to keep hidden, slowly escalated to him allowing the rest of his siblings (Webby very much included) and the giant man who stalks his uncle in, and by later this season he’s putting the show online in the web shorts and gladly shooting it into space, with Season 3 having him spend the first half of let’s get dangerous making a documentary that includes an episode of the show featuring Darkwing. It’s a small thing sure, but it’s the little things like this that make the show special.

The show does reveal a problem though as it turns out they’ve GOT all the harpies and while Storkules merely wanted to help, Louie points out they need more to keep a buisness going and naturally never bothered to ask Storkules just how many there were. They need SOME plan to get going. Webby submits a legitamte and great idea, training the harpies as she’s been trying to do in the background of the episode and aside from a hole in the floor they are starting to listen. But Huey is an ass about it and not only shoots it down saying let’s keep the dangerous creatures contained, even though A) he has no idea WHERE they’ve been kept so he can’t verify it’s safe, and since i’ts Donald’s Closet no no it’s not. and B)There’s no where he knows of to keep them. He isn’t aware of the other bin till next season. and C) it’s not ehtical to keep creatures locked up forever epsecially since while the harpies are dangerous they arent’ MALEVOLENT and are clearly acting on instinct. oh and for D) at least she has a plan to keep the company going instead of just wanting to end this and cash out.

Which Huey tries to.. but naturally Louie spent all their money on...

So their broke.. and Storkules has no rent money and feels like a failure despite having done NOTHING wrong. We do get a clever little nod to Disney’s hercules though “I”m not a hero, i’m a zero”. Webby rightfully glares at Louie who decides to fix it... by sneaking into Donald’s house that night to free the harpies.

Though to the shows credit it’s a VERY bad idea, and Storkules coming in mid attempt and congradulating Louie when he lies about checking the door gets the kid to come clean. And it’s a nice character moment: He could still go through with it.. but it’s clear he realizes just HOW low he was about to sink to save his own skin and that as much as Storkules WANTS a paycheck and deserves one, it’s not worth hurting people to get it. Louie tries to justify after this.. but can’t.

Unforutnately Donald took a lot of stupid pills this episode, yells about his no pets rule and frees them instead of you know, THINKING for five minutes.

So yeah NATURALLY Donald is an angry shit about it , refusing to actually TALK to Storkules about this or maybe admit this is partly HIS OWN FAULT. Yes their both at fault, Storkules shoudln’t of shoved a bunch of harpies in a closet. That’s a classic blunder. But Donald still opened it and isn’t called out on taking zero responsibility. Huey sees the fracas and just takes down their days without an accident placard, good stuff and he and webby arrive to help. Donald fights with Storkules and Storkules worries about loosing his friend.. lead to them going after the thing he values most aka donlad and hyjacking the house boat, though the kids manage to get aboard.

As Storkules saves Donald, Louie realizes the most precious thing he has is his merch and willingly gives it, and his buisness up to save everyone. It’s good character stuff and shows that despite his problems with greed, Louie IS a good kid and will do the right thing. It’s what seperates him from the Rouges Gallery the family faces: He has FLEXIBLE morals but he has morals when it comes down to it. So everyone tosses the stoff to help direct the hapries and make it home tying them up. Donald has a heart to heart with Storkules and agrees to help him find another place, but still considers him a friend and they hug. Awww. One intresting thing I DID find out from rewriting history is they originally fully intended to have Storkules STAY on the houseboat. He was going to be a permenant member of the household, at least as far as Season 2 was concenred and plans were made for several episodes down the road: the whole bit with him in “The Golden Spear” was simply because he lived there, he was going to be the one Della met in the houseboat, obliviously guilting her about what she’d missed, and he was going to set off the kids subplot in “Whatever Happened to Donald Duck?”

This ended up not happneing for logistical reasons: Frank, and I swear this was the term he used, felt they already had the perfect Himbo in Launchpad and it was just too much HImbo energy for the two to coexist without one taking the others screen time or neither getting a lot.

The next reason was having a god around simply broke the story: He cited the gilded man from “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” as a specific example. There were just too many hoops to jump to have him not break any story he should be around for. Finally with Della being added to the cast soon there simply wasn’t room in the main cast. Della brought it up to 9, Storkules would make it 10, and as i’ve gone on about the show already had trouble ballancing it’s cast, something Frank admitted to. Adding him would both be too big a stiatus quo change and be one on top of the massive one of Della joining the cast. So he was dropped back to recurring and only showed up one more time. And while it was the right call I am dismayed he didn’t show up for the whatever happened to donald duck subplot and it does feel very weird he never adresses Donald being gone despite, at least for season 2, apparently living in Duckburg. Otherwise though as funny as this wouldv’e been.. yeah it was the right call.

Scrooge returns... having been absent all episode because otherwise it wouldn’t work and easily saw Louie loosing it all coming.. but gives him a can of lemonade for his troubles and comforts the boy. The heart of htis arc and what makes it work at it’s best.. is these two. Scrooge GENUINELY wants to help Louie see his potetial successor in buisness: oh sure adventure wise he’s throughly covered.. but Webby, Dewey and Della all are more focused on the addventure part and that’s where their passion and talent lies, Huey’s better at science and given his close frinedship with fenton and how much that part of things seems to truly inspire him, i’ts what he was born for, and Donald just wants a regualar life and can’t manage his own life much less a company.

Louie is the only one in his family whose the right fit to inhereit that part of his legacy and I feel that’s why he takes a special intrest in him and webby over the other two: While he loves all of them and will clearly again leave a piece of his fortune and empire to all of them, Webby is the most like him, as we later find out not coincidentally in the slightest, when it comes to adventuring and curosity and a love of exploration. But Louie is the most like him in other ways; He’s cynical, money driven and passionate. Scrooge simply wants him to be as good a person and buisnessperson as he can be and is trying to push him in the right direction. And does so here by pointing out that failure isn’t a huge problem..it happens, comes with the terriotiry and as we’ve seen with life and times, even with portions of it clearly not happening in this universe, he failed a LOT to get here. What matters is that he tries and tries to do it the right way.

Scrooge also sympathizes as he was buying a lemonade company in cape suzette, giving Louie the can as a present... but laments there’s no cheap effective way to deliver the lemons. Louie notices the harpies going after the can after he throws it and Webby controlling them with it and muses that theyd idn’t think about what THEY wanted.. nad rightfully gets punched across the lawn by Webby, whose had to spend an entire episode having her surrogate brothers talk down to her and ignore her valid ideas. She dosen’t even open her eyes she just bops him one.

So we end with Scrooge having enlisted the hapries, Louie trying to take credit again and both realizing they might just steal the lemons instead of work for them. Ha ha ha their going to get so sued.

Final Thoughts: This one was mediocre. It has some good points, Louies arc continues to fascenate me, Huey’s done with this shit attitude is hilarous, and Storkules is at his best in this episode: his crush on Donald is toned down from this..

To this

To the point I could see shipping them off this one if Storkules episode didn’t have him do eveyrthing short of .. well see above. So it’s not WITHOUT merit: I love me a ghost busters style plot, there are great jokes and Chris Dimatopolis is a gem as always. Glad he’s getting work after this show on Invincible and hope he gets to play Darkwing again some day. But the Donald stuff and the fairly predictable plot drag this one down. I’ts fairly obvious they’ll run out of harpies, Louie will have spent the money and they’ll somehow get free. It’s not a terrible episode but it’s it’s sandwiched story wise between two straight up classics on both sides: the previous two episodes were even better than I remembered and the next two are incredibly good: Whateve Happened to Della Duck?! is one of their finest hours and The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck, while not making my best of list for the series as a whole is still one of my favorites for the season. It’s just disapointing this one wasn’t nearly as good as I remmebered and it’s understandable why I forgot almost all of it, unlike the previous two episodes. Thankfully as I said better’s over the horizon.

NEXT TIME ON OF MOONS, MILLIONARES AND MOTHERS: I’m taking a break for a week. One of two weeklong breaks for the arc, the other being the first week of July where i’m on vacation anyway (Though i’ll be doing the episode I would’ve done for that week the week before to keep the pace up, so no worries),

As for why, it’s my utmost honor to announce GOOF WEEK! Goof Week is a weeklong celebration of Goofy’s birthday. The idea came about because as I do for the big three, I intended to just do a shorts special. But Kev , the guy who made this very review possible, suggested doing the two part Goof Troop pilot. And since kev pays for a house of mouth episode a month anyway and thaks to you lovely people I hit my patreon stretch goal to review the goofy movie, I figured “why not make a week out of it. Hence Goof week. So next week we’ll have a review of the two part pilot for Goof Troop, the special Sports Goof, the House of Mouse episode Super Goof, your regularly schedule shorts spectacular, with The Goofy Movie for the grand finale! yaaahoooooieeee!

When we come back i’ll be shuffling episodes around slightly so I can do the Della comics from the Ducktales Tie-In Comic before her debut and in time for Donald’s own theme week in June, i’ll be saving “Whatever Happened to Della Duck?” for the week after Donald Week. Instead next we get a fun wild west adventure as Scrooge tells a story of his outlaw days, his tension with goldie and his encounter with a certain robber baron as John D Rockerduck FINALLY makes his screen debut. Yee-Haw!

If you liked this review, subscribe and follow for more and consider joining my patroen, patreon.com/popculturebuffet. I have exclusive reviews, my most recent duck based one being an obscure carl barks story about wigs and the boys attempting to murder a guy with a blow gun, and your contribution helps me reach my goals and thus gets everyone, patreon or not, a bunch of neat new reviews. If you get me to 20 dollars a month, i’m currently at 15, EVERYONE will get a monthly darkwing duck reviews, reviews of the two remaning ducktales 87 mini series including the origin of GIZMOOOODDUUUUUCCCKKKK, and a review of the Danny Phantom movie The Ultimate Enemy. And with the month running out NOW’S the time to join. YOu’ll also get to pick one of the shorts for my Donald Duck birthday specail next month, so if you want to join in NOWS the time. But wether you can or you can’t, thank you for reading, i’ts been a pleasure.

#ducktales #louie duck #storkules in duckburg #dorkules #donald duck #storkules #scrooge mcduck #webby vanderquack #huey duck #flintheart glomgold #dewey duck #funzos #disney #disney+#disney plus #disney xd #harpies

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cupcakemolotov · 3 years ago

Text

Happiness Looks Like You

So I think I have been poking at this thing for two years now. Anyway, its done, I am kicking it out of my WIP files, and y’all get lots of fluff.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Fluff and Humor; Drinking; Drinking & Talking; Drunken Flirting; (Only Somehwat Drunken);New Year's Eve;New Years; Caroline Forbes Travels the World;Ignoring TO;Ignoring Anything Canon I Don't Like;Happy Bonnie Bennett;Everyone deserves better

You can read it here on A03:

Caroline felt a bit silly that it took her so long to realize what her nose was trying to tell her. She wasn’t even really that drunk, just kind of tipsy. It'd been a really long two days of moving, after all, even for a vampire, and she’d totally deserved those Bloody Mary’s. And that shot of whiskey. The bottle of gin. She’d turned down the vodka, hadn’t she?

It was New Year’s Eve, and she was maybe an itty bitty, tiny bit drunk.

The sage, potent and familiar, had helped to throw her off. Spells were common on this night, the need for private conversation and so she’d merely wrinkled her nose as she moved away from the exit she’d been pushing towards, wondering if another drink would suffice for the next half hour or so. Witch business on New Years was not something she wanted to be involved in.

Been there, done that, used Enzo as bait.

Really, it was an evening she just wasn’t up to repeating. Bonnie would have kittens, and the lectures had been bad enough the first time. Better to just find a safer spot even if it meant food options would be limited. She didn’t need blood, and the craving for something deep fried could wait. Turning on her heel, she just started to move when a different, old and recognizable scent teased her nose. It was familiar and intricate, something she’d never been able to fully name but knew well.

Hybrid.

With that single breath came a deluge of memories her alcohol induced haze couldn’t quite block, and she exhaled on a rush of air. Ignoring the jostling around her to rise up on her toes with her heart in her throat, she’d barely caught a glimpse of tousled curls she’d know anywhere, the arrogant set of a pair of broad shoulders moving deeper into the crowd she’d just left.

Klaus.

Caroline landed back on her heels with a thud. It’d been nearly a century since she’d walked away from Mystic Falls, and a series of noisy, converted warehouses in Amsterdam in the midst of a New Year’s Celebration was the last place she’d have thought to find him. Once or twice over the years when she’d allow herself to think of him, she sometimes wondered if it’d really be centuries before the next time they’d talk. Some nights, that seemed like a very long time.

But for all her occasionally morous musings, she knew Klaus wasn’t one to fade quietly into the background. In the back of her mind she’d known it had always just been a matter of time before they’d run into each other. The world had become much smaller and much bigger than she could ever have imagined back in Mystic Falls, and now her feet felt frozen to the floor.

Did she follow him?

Did she say hi?

Behind her, someone cursed and stumbled drunkenly into her, and it broke her out of her daze. Post-ball drop, the converted warehouse around her was a madhouse and for a moment she weighed the chance that he’d seen her and chose to avoid her, and immediately discarded it. It wasn’t Klaus’ style. If he’d seen her, she knew down to her bones he’d have taken the opportunity to say hello.

Her lips curled at the realization that for once, she’d have the chance to surprise him. It seemed fitting, in the early hours of the new year. Decided, she moved through the crowd in the direction he’d gone, hoping she could catch him. Reaching up smooth curls turned frizzy from hours dancing, Caroline was thankful she’d chosen to dress up.

She almost hadn’t.

The last two weeks had been a chaotic mix of boxes and paint samples, arguing with Enzo via VC as he complained about her ditching him and Bonnie in London. Her witchy best friend had mostly ignored their bickering, her fond exasperation clear in the commentary she ran from the background. She hadn’t managed to buy more than a few of the basics, it was seriously going to annoy her until she found the perfect headboard, but at least the mattress was off the floor and she’d found a pair of super cute side tables with pretty motifs that brought in the colors she wanted.

Decorating agreed with her.

So did living outside of the US.

Leaving had been hard, but it hadn’t been lonely, not with Enzo and Bonnie with her. They’d all changed, the way she’d been told she would, but they hadn’t lost themselves, the way had worried her. Bonnie might have learned to accept her friend’s choices, but she was still Bonnie. Dangerous, opinionated, and a lovelier friend you couldn’t find. She was also a witch madly in love with a vampire who was totally pro-murder. Enzo had no regrets about who and what he was, and he’d been so good for her friend who had packed enough hurt and troubles in her late teens and early twenties for ten lifetimes.

And once she had been surrounded by fewer judgements and no expectations, Caroline had finally found the balance between the vampire and girl that made her happy. It had taken time, she’d needed to outgrow the parts of humanity she’d held onto for all the reasons that had never been her own, but she’d never felt so steady in her own skin. She suddenly found she wanted to know if it was something Klaus would notice. She rather thought he would; he had always seen her better than anyone else, sometimes even better than she saw herself.

Amsterdam was her recognition of that, the first place she'd picked to be hers. Just hers. And hours before, when she’d sat in her first house, if not her first home studying two days worth of work, it had been done with a sense of pride. The urge to go out, to celebrate, had sunk into her bones and she’d dug a dress out of her closet, found her favorite heels and gone dancing.

She’d never really been able to turn down a New Year’s Celebration in a new city.

And now here was Klaus, brushing back up against her life just as she was opening for new opportunities, letting herself go after she wanted because she wanted it. Caroline wondered if she should take it as a sign and if Klaus put any stock into New Year’s traditions. She’d make a point to ask him, she decided.

Nerves fizzed along her skin as she realized when she caught up to him she was going to talk to him, and her steps almost faltered. She pushed aside that unease, refusing to balk now. She wasn’t a quitter. Talking with Klaus had never really been her problem, really, and even if the last time she had seen him his mouth had still been wet from her arousal as he’d murmured his last goodbye, that was a long time ago.

And that thought wasn’t going to help her play this cool, at all. Rising back up on her toes, she scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes. If he’d moved to the VIP floor she was likely going to be out of luck, but there was another bar on the back wall that held all the overpriced booze. He might’ve headed there. Impatience had her moving people out of her way with a little more force than was advisable, and the crowd finally parted in front of her and she caught her first real look at him.

He looked good.

Klaus wore a pair of dark slacks, but if he’d had a jacket, he’d already discarded it. The crisp white sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled nearly to his elbows, and the hint of leather cords at his throat were tantalizing. He was holding a tumbler of whiskey, and for a moment he left her breathless. The last of her buzz disappeared under a surprising rush of feelings she didn’t want to look at, and her teeth sank into her lower lip.

He stood parallel to the bar, expression mildly bored as a witch spoke to him with a nervous face, the flush of his cheeks young. Amusement bubbled as she realized she was watching someone hit on Klaus even as something like jealousy coiled low in her belly at the realization, good taste or no. The idea that she was interrupting something was surprisingly sharp in her throat. Caroline considered leaving, even as the sudden hesitation annoyed her.

She was saved from having to make a choice when his shoulders suddenly straightened, his head coming up sharply as he clearly caught her scent even in the mosh of people. A half a heart beat later, and his head turned, eyes finding hers unerringly in the dim light.

Really, his hybrid senses were just unfair.

Dark and intent, the flicker of surprise behind his gaze that she’d always privately delighted in melted quickly into something hotter. His mouth curved slow and tempting, and she inanely lifted a hand in a small wave. His smile widened, and clearly the witch didn’t matter, because Klaus sat aside his drink immediately and cleared the distance between them in mere strides.

“Caroline,” Klaus murmured, dimples peeking through the scruff of his beard. “This is a surprise, love. A delightful one.”

She arched a brow, unable to help her own answering smile, and finding that she really didn’t want to. “Hi, Klaus. I’m not interrupting, am I?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Can I interest you in a drink?”

Around them, the music blasted at the whim of the DJ, the crowd surging, and Klaus threw a glare over her shoulder as someone bumped into her. Unbothered, she stepped closer to the heat of him, amused by the way his brows arched a little but he made no move to put distance between them. Assured that she was welcome, Caroline shrugged and moved by him. “Sure.”

He beat her to the bar by half a step, but she’d expected that. The witch had disappeared, and as Klaus moved to catch the bartender's eye, she took the opportunity to skim her gaze along the picture he made now that she was closer. She really liked that he’d forgone a tie, the open collar showing off the line of his collarbones beneath his usual tangle of necklaces. His eyes were amused when she glanced back at his face, but she was hardly embarrassed.

Particularly when he didn’t bother to mask the flicker of heat in his gaze as his eyes dipped along her body in a perusal that was anything but casual. The tip of his tongue flickered across his lower lip, eyes warm when they met hers again. “What brings you to Amsterdam, Caroline?”

Grinning, she lifted a shoulder and dropped it, knowing exactly what the motion would do for her boobs. Flirting with Klaus wasn’t new but having no rules against it was and, she realized, fun. “I live here.”

Interest sparked on his face. “Do you?”

Letting out a low hum, she bit the edge of her lip when a bottle of champagne and two glasses appeared. It would never cease to amaze her that the most deadly monster in any room he entered was such a giant cheeseball or how much she liked it. “What about you? Please tell me you're not stirring up trouble. I just finished renovations and would like to actually live in my house, Klaus.”

“Not this time,” he said easily as he poured the champagne and handed her the first glass. “I am here for a bit of business that has now been concluded, and I thought I’d visit an old friend or two. It’s been some time since I spent any time in this city.”

Caroline sipped her drink, letting it fizz on her tongue for a moment as she considered that. “Friends…” she said skeptically. “You have those?”

His eyes gleamed. “Of a sort. Though my current company is far more charming.” She scoffed, ignoring the way she could feel her cheeks heat. Klaus was undeterred by her skepticism. “Why Amsterdam, love?”

She considered his question, all the questions he hadn't asked. “I’ve been in Europe for a few decades now. When we left the states, well. Europe wasn’t our first stop, but Enzo kept insisting, and he’s amazingly persistent. And annoying. London is lovely, he might have been right about that, but I loved it here more.”

“Enzo?”

A hint of something dangerous flickered behind his eyes and she deliberately moved closer to nudge him with her hip. “Nope. Enzo is my friend and happily married to Bonnie. You break his neck and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

His lashes hid his gaze for a moment when she didn’t bother stepping back into her previous space, the heat of him pressed firmly against her side. His gaze held the tiniest flecks of gold at the edges of his eyes when his lashes parted and her pulse skipped. “And have you enjoyed making your home here, Caroline?”

“Yup. I have a few apartments I’ve bought, here and there. But I decided I wanted a house of my own, you know?” It had been an urge that she hadn’t satisfied with her tiny apartment in Cape Town or her flat in London. But Amsterdam was her first house. It’d felt bigger, more significant somehow. “And sometimes a girl just needs a bit of space from her friends, but not too far so, Amsterdam.”

Buying her home had been a touch of serendipity, mixed with careful planning and maybe some online stalking. When she had finally found the home she wanted, she might’ve shamelessly used a teeny tiny bit of compulsion to ensure her offer was accepted, but Real Estate was cut throat and she liked to win. Besides she'd done her research, and she knew exactly what the property was worth. But not even compulsion could make the buying process run completely smooth.

“I’m glad,” Klaus murmured, eyes warm.“I can see how this place would suit you.”

His words settled something in her chest and she took another sip of the excellent champagne to hide it. This monster who only wanted her to fly. Head tipping, Caroline studied his face curiously. “And you? What have you been up to? The PG-13 version, please.”

Pleasure and amusement flickered across his face at her question. “Less murder and mayhem than you’d imagine, sadly, as it does liven up the occasional bit of boredom. But there is always an idiot or two who has decided eternal life is just not the existence for them. I’m generally happy to oblige.”

Her lips pressed together to hold in a smile at his mock exasperation, and his eyes gleamed at her. “That can’t be all you do. Surely.”

Klaus reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, fingertips lingering. “I’ve spent the past few years moving through parts of Europe, but not much to report that would surprise you. The occasional sibling idiocy to correct, a painting here or there.”

She was willing to bet there was a lot more to that statement but she didn’t push. She’d heard rumors of what had happened in New Orleans and had no desire to bring that up here and now. “And how long will you be in Amsterdam?” Caroline asked, making no move to step away from his touch. “Visiting your… friends.”

“I suppose that depends on my welcome,” he replied lightly, but his eyes were dark. His mouth tilted in a small smile before he took a drink of his champagne.

Caroline rolled her eyes at the hint of coaxing in his voice. “I am not inviting you to my house, Klaus. It’s mostly empty and boring and my grandmother would roll over in her grave.”

“Ah,” he agreed mock-seriously, the glimmer of amusement behind his eyes also lingering in the dimple in his cheek. “We can’t have that, can we?”

She pushed at his shoulder with no real force, trying not to laugh. “No, we cannot.”

Klaus didn’t budge, she hadn’t expected him too, if anything he leaned into her space with an amused little noise. “Invitation or no, I’d be delighted to hear of your plans. I have set up a home or two myself, and have a few contacts should you have trouble finding a piece you want. Dining room tables for instance, can be quite vexing.”

“Pretty sure I don’t have your budget, but I’ll probably take you up on that,” Caroline said. A lot could be said about Klaus’ home that she’d seen in Mystic Falls, but his taste, while a little stuffy, had been impeccable.

“Excellent,” he murmured. “You’ll also have to let me know what you consider an appropriate housewarming gift as well. Such things have changed over the years, and I haven’t had a reason to brush up on that particular etiquette.”

Something warm tugged at her chest and she shook her head to cover it. “And here you were just trying to tell me you had friends.”

Before he could reply, and the glitter of mischief on his face told her he had a response, the music skipped, jarring the crowd. All around them, the lights that had been dimmed started to turn on. Klaus scowled murderously, and she laughed once her ears stopped ringing.

And realized she wasn’t ready for this to be over.

Looping her arm through his, she tipped her head towards the exit, stomach a sudden tangle of butterflies. “I was actually on the hunt for food when I saw you and decided to say hi. We’ll probably have to fight the crowds now, but any interest in joining me?”

He had gone carefully motionless when her arm had taken his, but at her words, her admittance that she’d come back to see him, his smile left her breathless. It was such a delighted, boyish thing. Picking up the half full champagne bottle, he handed it to before stepping next to her. “I’d be delighted. I might even have a suggestion or two on a location that will be open this time of night and willing to find us a table.”

She took a long swig of the bottle, letting him start her through the crowd before offering it back. “Pancakes, Klaus. I want pancakes.”

Klaus ignored the bottle, his hand lifting so his thumb could trace her wet lower lip. Bringing it to his mouth, he licked the champagne from his thumb and her body immediately heated, her body becoming intensely aware of everywhere they touched. “Hmm, I’m sure we can find a place to meet those exacting standards.”

Taking a calming breath, she narrowed her eyes at him in warming and he seemed entirely unrepentant. “Uh huh. Pancakes or I won’t show you any of the pictures on my phone of my house.”

His laugh was soft and he started moving again. The crowd never quite pressed close, and people moved out of their way as soon as they got a look at his face. He looked human, the monster tucked away by the amusement and indulgence of him, but his presence was hardly affected by either of that.

“A tragedy, but one we can avoid.” He glanced at her, that dimple tugging at his smile. “Should I warn you that I might have a… suggestion or two?”

She snorted. “By suggestion, you mean opinion. And as long as those opinions are that my taste is flawless and I’m absolutely correct about everything, you may have as many as you want.”

Another laugh, this one deeper, and he led her through the crowd out into the darkness of pre-dawn. The air was cold, she hadn’t bothered with a jacket, but with Klaus next to her she didn’t feel it. Taking another long drink of the last of the champagne, she knew it wasn’t just the booze that fizzled in her veins.

She might not have kissed him at midnight, but she knew in her bones that this night was changing things. Klaus would take her to breakfast, would keep to whatever boundaries she set between them, boundaries she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted anymore, but she’d invited him back to her life. Klaus wasn’t the type to ignore that kind of opening.

Sliding her hand down his arm to link their fingers instead, she found herself smiling widely as his palm pressed tightly against hers.

Happy New Year indeed.

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaroline drabble #part of my Caroline Travels The World #Because I Hate TO & TVD Endings

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elriel-sparkleshadow · 4 years ago

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A SNOWBALL WAR - SHORTFIC

I liked the idea that @mrspettyferr have. So I write a shortfic. Hope you like it! ps: English is not my first language, be kind Couples decide to play the famous snowball war in pairs: Feyre / Rhys, Nesta/ Cassian, and Elain / Azriel. They just didn't count that Elain and Azriel would have a big advantage since she foresees the proposal in time for them to formulate a strategy and they are both very good at moving in silence.

Azriel was sitting on the chair when Elain came into the room and slid into his lap. A smile on her lips like a promise of secrets. She had run to the kitchen as soon as they landed at the river house, dying to talk to her friends Nuala and Cerridwen. They hadn't had a chance to talk much since Elain moved permanently to the townhouse with Azriel.

Nesta and Cassian had not yet arrived from the house of wind and Rhys and Feyre were upstairs putting Nyx to sleep. Just the cauldron as known where Mor, Varian, and Amren had gone.

- I heard something. - Elain whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

- With that smile, I assume it was a good thing. Azriel raised an eyebrow and kissed her cheek, making her laugh before talking again.

- Rhys and Cassian are going to challenge us to a snowball war in pairs. - Az laughed at hearing his words, throwing his head back. - Cauldron save us.

- I think they've been planning this for a long time. - She concluded. - But the proposal will be made during dinner today. - Ready to finish them off? - Az smirked.

- Certainly. - She joined her lips to his and he lost himself in the sensation, it was always like this as if the floor disappeared under his feet and time stopped.

- They are even more sticky than Rhys and Feyre. - Az heard Mor's voice coming from the hall and Elain walked away, turning red and trying to get up from his lap. He smiled, pulling her against his body and resting his chin on her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

- The beginning of a relationship is like that. - Varian entered the room, carrying several bottles of wine and nodding in the direction of the two. They were probably breaking into Rhys's stock.

- She is just jealous since she is the last single in our group. - Amren also entered the room, being followed by Mor who grimaced when he heard his words. Az laughed, feeling happy that he could finally show his feelings for Elain in public and she relaxed in his arms, leaning against his chest.

- If you want I can introduce you to some people, Mor. - Nessa entered the room, with Cassian in pursuit and Mor blushed while everyone laughed.

- I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage on my own. - The blonde threw herself on the sofa opening a bottle of wine.

- The party is just beginning, use wine glasses Morrigan. - Rhys came down the stairs arm in arm with Feyre and laughed when his cousin showed him the middle finger, turning the bottle directly in his mouth.

Soon they were all settled on the sofa and Rhys made the fireplace light and wine glasses appeared on the coffee table, using a little magic.

- These three I already noticed were in my wine stock. - Rhys gestured to Mor, Amren, and Varian. The latter raised his arms in surrender, casting a look at Amren.

- I'm sorry man, I was coerced. - Rhys laughed when Amren rolled his eyes.

- Today I'll let that go. - The high lord turned to where Cassian was lying on the carpet, his back resting on Nesta's legs, who was sitting on the sofa. - But I want to know why you two are late. - A malicious smile painted his lips.

- Cassian takes more time getting dressed than a bride. - Nessa spoke pretending impatience and the general shrugged before saying playfully: - Beauty takes time.

- Some already wake up with it. - Az murmured and slammed his glass against Elain's, making everyone laugh. Everyone went back to drinking while they waited for dinner and soon the alcohol started to do.

- Hey, couple. Have you managed to break some furniture yet? - Cassian smirked maliciously, turning to the chair where Azriel was with Elain and Nesta slapped his arm, but before Az could think of an answer, Elain was already saying: - I think you would not like to hear details, Cassian. - Az laughed against her neck, surprised by the cross answer, and noticed her skin warm-up, for sure she was blushing.

- Wow, Az. What did you do to my cute and innocent sister? - Nessa was laughing and Elain rolled his eyes looking at her. - Our girl grew up. - Feyre put her hand over her heart as if she had been moved.

- Hey, I'm older than you, Feyre. - Elain folded his arms to channel her sister but then smiled. - You who always had a distorted image about me.

- She's still a good girl. Azriel turned slightly to look at Elain's face. - She’s just a bad girl with me. - Elain blushed, even more, nudging him. - I would be careful with words, spymaster.

- Is that a threat, baby? - Az brought his face close to hers and she bit her mouth, making him want to put his teeth in there. - Perhaps.

- Get a room. - Cassian shouted as he threw a pillow at them and everyone laughed. The noise made Nyx wake up and soon the little Illyrian was being passed from arm to arm, receiving attention from all his uncles.

- That child won't even be spoiled. - Feyre said wryly, hugging Rhys around the waist while Mor and Cassian argued to see who would hold Nyx after Nesta. Az and Elain had already played with their nephew as soon as they arrived, even the baby fell asleep in Az's arms and now they watched the scene with a smile.

Dinner was soon ready, and everyone went to the kitchen, everything was wonderful and Nuala and Cerridwen joined them. Mor who had won the dispute over Nyx with Cassian now struggled to get the baby to feed.

- I will never have children. - The blonde sighed. - At least nephews I can return to the parents. - Everyone laughed as she handed the little one over to Rhys, who easily managed to convince him to eat.

- Just because we were going to ask you to babysit tomorrow. - Rhys shook his head and Nyx clapped his hands together, making Mor melt looking at him.

- What do you not ask me crying that I don't do smiling? - She laughed, helping herself to more wines. - Do you need time just for the two of you? - The blonde winked at Feyre, who laughed.

- It is actually for an idea that these two had. - Feyre gestured between Rhys and Cassian and Nesta winced, probably already knowing what they were going to say. - Here it comes.

Az subtly turned his head to Elain, pretending to fill her glass, and saw her wave only once, confirming what was coming.

- We want to make a snowballs war in pairs. And without offenses Mor, you are the only one without a partner. - Rhys completed and Mor pouted. - Okay, my company will be great, right Nyx? - The little boy threw food upwards, having a party and everyone laughed. Cassian turned to the others at the table. - Who's in?

- Get ready to lose. - Az leaned back in his chair, putting an arm around the back of Elain's chair. - We're in. - Elain completed with a smile.

- I liked the confidence. But it will not be easy to pass us. - Nessa replied, turning to wink at Cassian as if they had some trick up their sleeve.

- Neither us. - Feyre and Rhys exchanged a look and Az imagined that they talked for the connection in their minds.

- Unfortunately, we left too early for the summer court. Varian looked at Amren. - But who knows next year?

- No way. - She said and everyone laughed again. "I will be enjoying the heat while you bury yourself in the snow.

- Then it's agreed. - Rhys raised his glass - Be ready at 6 am.

After exchanging gifts and when everyone had already retired to sleep, Azriel and Elain went to her old room on the property. The snow had fallen outside again and Elain walked to the window.

- Do you think we can win? - She looked over her shoulder at Az and he smiled as he unbuttoned his jacket.

- Taking into account that I won in the last 199 years and only lost last year because I couldn't get you out of my head. I think so. - She walked over to him, a sweet smile on her lips.

- I did not imagine that I would distract you so much. - She replaced his hands on the buttons and pushed him on his back to the bed.

- You have no idea. - He sat up and pulled her to the bed too, making her place one knee on either side of his body and sit on his lap. - But things have changed a lot in a year. - He moved his hands up her thighs. - And considering how happy I am, I think we will win.

Elain laughed, finishing unbuttoning his clothes. - We should rest for tomorrow then. To sleep early ... - Az proceeded to undo the ties of her dress, leaving kisses all over her neck.

- What were you saying? - He whispered against her skin, with his hands working quickly, and soon the fabric was loose. Elain laughed, pushing him on his back on the mattress, raising her arms then, and causing him to quickly pull the dress over her head.

- Wow love. I don't think we're going to sleep early anyway. - Az said, surprised to notice the cobalt-blue underwear she was wearing and she laughed, kissing him afterward. - Happy Solstice.

The morning came even colder than the night before, and Azriel and Elain went over their strategy again before going down for breakfast. Az was in his regular leathers and Elain was wearing leather pants and a heavy coat to withstand the cold. Soon Nesta and Feyre entered the kitchen wearing their Illyrian leathers, as did Rhys and Cassian. Breakfast was fast, and it didn't take long to leave for the cabin, Nestha winnowing with Feyre, Cassian with Rhys, and Az with Elain, Mor stayed at the river house with Nyx.

The snow was soft and untouched when they arrived. Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys exchanged a smile before the latter began to explain the rules to the girls, emphasizing mainly that the use of powers was prohibited and that if anyone did, the pair would be disqualified. Everyone agreed and split across the field, each pair in one direction.

Feyre and Rhys seemed to communicate through that mental link and the high lady laughed without a doubt, something he had said to her. Cassian and Nesta stretched and warmed up their muscles and Elain smiled at Azriel, opening and closing his fingers to warm his hands into the gloves, he noticed the movement and pulled her close, taking her hands between his and bringing it to his mouth to blow hot air into them.

- Ready? - He asked, smiling and getting more closer. She nodded in agreement. - Let's finish them.

Az smiled holding her chin and giving her a light kiss. - That's it! - Elain winked at him and they pulled away and turned away, walking the same amount of steps in opposite directions and ready to start.

Rhys counted down and in the next instant, the battle began, with snow flying in all directions. Cassian went on the attack, a technique that he had been improving in the last years and that Rhys already knew very well. The high lord laughed as he faced his brother, not noticing that Az appeared behind him ready to knock him into the snow. Feyre was agile and ran from the balls Nesta threw, and Elain as a good spy managed to go unnoticed while throwing balls when no one was waiting.

In a moment of inattention, Nesta ended up hitting Cassian in the face with a ball that was meant to hit Rhys in the back and enjoying it while they laughed, Azriel made a big mountain of snow behind which he hid with Elain, going over the tactics of the next one.

Elain jumped when Azriel pulled her to the side and in the next instant, Cassian and Nesta were rolling through the snow in screams.

- Are they fighting or kissing? - Azriel asked confused, trying to decipher what was happening and Elain spilled his head, also curious.

- Fighting. - She spoke when she saw her sister hit Cassian's head with a snowball and sit on top of the general who was lying on his back, but in the next instant, Cassian had pulled her down and joined their mouths together. - Now they're kissing.

Az laughed softly, getting to his feet and pulling Elain up, and soon afterward they dropped the snow mountain on top of the couple who clung to the ground.

- Eliminated. - Rhys's voice came from across the field, as Elain and Az clapped their hands and watched Cassian and Nesta coming out of the snow and not caring about the game, walking towards the cabin.

- Two to go. - Az whispered in Elain's ear, pulling away as she smiled and ran the other way. The wind was rising, lifting snow and making it difficult to see, but both were used to using all their senses and being sneaky.

Rhys was the first to fall when Az came out of nowhere in front of him and dropped him in the snow. They rolled for a few minutes, so couldn't tell who was who, but in the end, Az got up in time to see Elain use practically the same technique with Feyre.

- Feyre, darling. - Rhys called out as he got up and shook the snow. - We lost.

Feyre walked over to him, taking a look at the cabin where Cassian and Nesta were most certainly destroying everything. - Let's go home?

- I have better ideas, let's enjoy that Nyx is with a nanny. - And smiling, they held hands and winnowing who knows where.

Azriel brushed the snow from his hair and turned to Elain, who was doing the same. She smiled from ear to ear and he repeated the gesture while calling her with his hand and she ran up to him, jumping in his arms.

- We won. - She wrapped her arms around his neck and he laughed, holding her by the thighs.

- We won. - Az closed the distance between them, kissing her deeply, so that her whole body warmed up, even in the middle of the snow. - Let's go home. We have to celebrate before I freeze - She whispered against his lips and he smiled, before kissing her again as the shadows swirled around them, taking them home. Did you like it? Let me know in the comments

#acotar fanfiction #elriel #nessian #feysand #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff fan #acotar fluff #snowball

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feralnumberfive · 3 years ago

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The Rewatch Academy: Episode 3 of Season 1

“Extra Ordinary”

I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it's funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes

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1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04 |

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☂ First off I’d like to say that this is one of my favorite episodes of this season. It’s just soooo good

☂ The second comic book in the window features the Televator from the actual comics, so that has to be canon in the show! Also at the time that that second comic came out, Five had already left since we don’t see him on the cover

☂ It’d be cool if they actually printed Vanya’s book for fans to read

☂ Well Diego isn’t wrong when he called Hazel and Cha Cha animals because of their masks

☂ Honestly I feel Vanya’s struggle with chair placement. I’ve fortunately had the luck of playing in all three clarinet chair placements, but 1st chair is challenging. I personally found each placement very fun to play, especially 3rd, and I hope Vanya does too! (why am I talking like she’s real)

☂ Hazel talks about people living ordinary lives, but didn’t he live like that too at one point? How does The Commission recruit people? If they get ordinary people, do they wipe their memories of their previous lives?

☂ “Let’s see’em get out from behind their desks, get their hands dirty for once.” Well Hazel, Five does indeed do this even though he only had a desk job for a day. Still, he got to experience both worlds

☂ My mind is blanking on this, but how did Five get that cut on his arm? Was it from a bullet wound at Gimbel’s?

☂ Five must have a high pain tolerance to stitch his own wound but his bandaid probably wouldn’t stick due to the wet blood he slapped it over. Five sweetie you need a cotton pad and gauze for that one

☂ Wait, you’re telling me that The Umbrella Academy boys’ top uniform consists of a tank top, a white dress shirt, a tie, a sweater vest, and then the blazer? Someone asked Reginald what he wanted for the uniforms and he just said “Yes.”

☂ Five: *puts hands in pockets only to immediately take them out*

☂ Aidan almost sounds like he has an accent when he says “I'm done funding your drug habit.”

☂ Five’s so soft talking to his wife

☂ No Leonard, your bread and butter is being a creep

☂ Also, he thinks wood carving is embarrassing? If someone came up to me and showed me something they carved out of wood I would be so jealous cause it’s such a neat form of art

☂ Leonard saying that he carved wood, and in that case wooden figures, when he was a kid is a slight foreshadow of all of his tampering with his Umbrella Academy figures. He can make wooden figures but he’s also destroyed a handful of the Hargreeves figures

☂ “Never really did like The Beatles.” Well sir you’ve made me dislike you even more

☂ Vanya asking Allison if her siblings wanted her at the family meeting bugs me a bit. I absolutely get that she was literally left out of anything and everything that had to do with her siblings when she was younger, but Allison just asked her to come back home for a family meeting. Allison wouldn't have walked around looking for Vanya only to tell her that they were having a family meeting and that she wasn’t actually invited. Allison is including her in on a family meeting but Vanya is just in a bit of disbelief that she’s being included

☂ Ah yes, the only PTSD flashback for Five we see in the show! He looks so scared when he snaps out of it. I believe it was somehow triggered by the kids (I could be wrong) but do you think Five sometimes panics when he looks at himself in the mirror now since his body is the same age it was when he got stuck? Also it’s very subtle but when Luther opens the door, Five slightly jerks/flinches back. I wish we would see more of this in the show since it’s one of his major traumas

☂ “Does it matter? It’s Klaus.” Ouch! Well Five I hope you know that your siblings are somewhat thinking the same thing since they believe that you’ve lost your mind and are practically an old man crying “Apocalypse!”

☂ Five does an ever so slight huff and smirk when Luther tells him that the meeting at the Academy is important. He finds it a little funny but so frustrating in his mind that Luther doesn’t know what’s truly important

☂ Also I love that Aidan has to turn to the side so that he can keep it together after Klaus talks about his chocolate pudding waxing. Either that or he’s portraying Five as being frustrated and in disbelief. Also this is the first time I’ve noticed that he says “Ay, ay ay...”

☂ “We’re all you have. And you know it.” Oh Luther, you’re failing to see that that’s why he’s acting like this right now. He’s all frantic and crazed about trying to stop the apocalypse so that he can protect and save all that he has

☂ Five certainly is mad at Luther during his mini lecture. He’s clenching his jaw tightly and when he first speaks he hisses out the words through gritted teeth. He even called Luther by his number. He’s very impatient at this point and doesn’t care for Luther’s act of attempting to be a leader

☂ This is their first, and certainly not last, time watching Klaus go by in front of them doing something he shouldn’t be doing

☂ “You haven’t been home in a long time, Vanya.” Sir you were also just on the moon for four years. Yeah Vanya was away for a long time but Grace easily could have changed too during the four years you were gone

☂ How sweet, even though Five hasn’t really been home they want to include him in on the family vote :]

☂ I’ve noticed that in S1 that David really mumbles his lines. A lot

☂ I wish we got more flashbacks of the younger Umbrellas

☂ Diego my beloved mama’s boy ♥️

☂ It’s confusing as to which country TUA takes place in, but it’s really not supposed to be a specific one. It’s portrayed as being in North America, but you can see behind Cha Cha when she gets out of the car at the Academy the flag of the RAF, which Canada would have at a monument since it’s a Commonwealth country. At the same time though Delores came from Gimbels, which was a department store chain across the U.S

☂ The light above Five’s portrait is slightly crooked, which probably means no one has really been paying attention to it

☂ It makes me nervous that Klaus wipes bubbles onto his face. It looks like he got some in his eyes

☂ Ugh I love the whole scene of Hazel and Cha Cha walking around the Academy with “We’re Through” playing

☂ Diego: *has knives but instead chooses to punch and hit Hazel to try to make him let go of Allison”

☂ A rope-a-dope is a boxing tactic of pretending to be trapped against the ropes, goading an opponent to throw tiring ineffective punches. Diego sweetie Hazel wasn’t even trying to get you off of him all he was doing was choking Allison. The only person who got tired was probably you

☂ What’s the point in Diego yelling “Luther, go!” if he’s already going 💀

☂ Luther was there immediately when Hazel attacked Vanya. That means that Luther heard Vanya and was going to go get her to safety

☂ I will never stop signing my praise for the entirety of the “Sinnerman” fight scene(s). It gives me chills every single time. Easily one of the best scenes in all of the show

☂ Klaus must really have his music blasting if he can’t hear the gun shots right next to him

☂ I’ve always wondered if Allison actually registered in her mind that “The boy” is Five when Cha Cha says that’s who they’re looking for. Either she does realize that’s Five, is simply just angry that those two are looking for a boy, or registers in her mind that it’s Five through his superhero codename even though Cha Cha’s not referring to him in that way

☂ Diego is full on just standing in the background watching Allison get beat up by Cha Cha 🕴

☂ I love Diego’s little hand flap when he gets hit in the hand fighting Cha Cha

☂ Okay so I make everything about Five, but the whole Cha Cha fight scene with Allison and then Diego kind of scares me. Cha Cha and Hazel are both amazing assassins (they’re both probably right below Five) and neither Allison nor Diego could stop her by themselves. Could you imagine Five fighting one of his siblings? Especially with his spatial jumps? We already got a glimpse of his true combat skills when he fights Lila in S2. What a scary little old man

☂ “Vanya, get out of here!” Again, wanting to make sure that Vanya is safe and gets away. He even tried to go look for her

☂ Something I don’t really get about the Hazel and Luther fight is why doesn’t Luther just overpower him? Luther has super strength and on top of that he has giant muscles due to the gorilla DNA. Shouldn’t he be able to beat Hazel to a pulp? Maybe we have to consider that Hazel might have been altered by The Commission to be stronger and more durable, but they haven’t mentioned that in the show

☂ “Ah, you gotta cut down on that fast food, soldier.” What are you talking about Diego he literally just got off the moon two days ago aflksjfdk

☂ So Luther was too injured to jump out of the way of the chandelier but was able to push it up off of himself? 🤔

☂ I personally think that Luther’s body design adaptation for the show is really cool and that they gave him the perfect amount of bulk without making him look ridiculous

☂ This has been pointed out before, but cross-stitch foreshadowing, baby

☂ Again, Diego my beloved mama’s boy ♥️

☂ Well at least Diego thought about Vanya dying before thinking about his siblings dying because of her. The latter is ironic!

☂ The clock above Luther’s mirror reads approximately 1:30 am. Hazel and Cha Cha didn’t want to wait until morning

☂ I wonder how different it would be if Five was present at the Academy when Hazel and Cha Cha attacked. He probably would have surrendered himself to them, but it's fun to entertain the idea that he would go apeshit if he knew that they were harming his family in order to find him

☂☂☂☂☂☂☂

Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!

#tra #the rewatch academy #tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #hazel and cha cha

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nightowlfandom · 4 years ago

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Bully! Boss! Min Yoongi- Blind Rage

So ANON ASKS

Hi! How are you? Can I please have prompt 8 and 20 for yoongi with shitloads of angst? Bye! Have a nice day ,,,,or days...,,

Yes you can random stranger on the internet!, Yes you most certainly can! You didn’t include a lot of context to I made one up! I hope you like it and please enjoy! I tried to make it as angsty as possible and I’m assuming from the prompts that you wanted it slightly dirty, but I only do smut unless it’s asked for so I toned it down for this one.

I’m good! Is you good? If not, I hope this makes your day!!

Also! Just wanna say no posts for a lil bit cuz it’s my birthday on the 10th (Tomorrow as I am posting thing) and I’m doing thangs (at home and SAFELY of course, so this is gonna be the only thing I post today)

Also I got a message from one of you saying I’m like the sister you never had...SO I’M YOUR SISTER NOW! YOU, AND YOU, AND YOU IN THE BACK...YOU ALL ARE MY BABIES!

8-Oh baby, I treat you like a maid because that’s basically all you are.

20- Don’t finish that sentence darling…it won’t end well for you.

Leggo!

...

You mentally cursed as the ceramic plate shattered against the hard flooring. You could only glare at, Jungkook who had ‘accidentally’ pushed the plate off the table.

“Maid!” Jungkook impatiently snapped his fingers. “Clean this mess up, will you?”

Wordlessly, you got down on your hands and knees and picked up the pieces of broken marble. You used your the skirt of your uniform as a little device to hold the remnants of glass and wasted food.

You walked away, cursing under your breath as a chorus of laughter rang around your bosses. Good for them, finding humor in your humiliation.

“Calm down Y/N, they’re just messing with you.” you tried to cheer yourself up. “You’re doing this for your family.”

You were determined to help your folks out to the best of your ability. Even if it meant torture from a bunch of rich assholes who never lifted a finger a day in their lives. When you finally had enough, you were gonna buy a huge ass house right next to this shit hole and tell your bosses to suck it.

“That’ll be the day.” you smiled thinking about how one day you would own property and get your mom, dad, sisters and brothers out of that tiny ass house.

“Talking to yourself again, maid?” a voice cut through your inner montage of you moonwalking away from your bosses.

“No sir.” You ignored Yoongi as you threw the broken plate away. “I’ll get another serving ready.”

Luckily for you, it was only a salad and not a hot meal.

“No need, you’re dismissed for the night.” he waved you off.

“Very well.” you seethed.

...

You basically flopped into bed. After a 2-hour phone call to your mom, who had managed to make you feel better. You were so done, you could fall aslee-

“MAID!”

You will apparently forever and always stand corrected. Yoongi’s room was literally right next to yours. However while yours was practically the size of a janitors closet, he along with his friends got all the luxury. You heaved yourself out of bed and trudged to his room.

“You wanted to see me.” you announced.

“Close the door.” he ordered. “ The boys think your behavior is unacceptable.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You will be.” he stood up from his bed, arms crossed. He was only in his black pants and crisp button up shirt. The first three buttons were undone, exposing his toned collarbones. Don’t look, don’t look. “They said the way you bent down, was provocative and attention grabbing.”

“With all due respect, I was cleaning up a mess one of you made.” you were confused. “How else was I supposed to-”

“I understand how pleasure can get in the way of work, but trying to seduce us on the job is very inappropriate.”

“Excuse you?” you said flatly. “I wasn’t trying to do anything like that!”

“They don’t see it that way, L/N.”

“Well you guys are bigger morons that I thought. Not every girl wants to throw themselves at your feet!” you crossed your arms.

“Well apparently you had no problem throwing yourself at Jungkook’s now did you?”

“How dare you!” you finally snapped. “Why are you accusing me of being some temptress! I work for you, I bitch about it to my friends, I get paid. Wash rinse and repeat. Nowhere in my job description says that I’m a maid, yet you all insist of treating me like it!”

“Then why do you answer to it...Maid?” Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms.

“Because if I don’t, you people turn into conniving evil assholes, using my situation against me!” you snapped in reply. “Why are you treating me like this!?”

“Oh baby...I treat you like a maid because that’s basically all you are.” he looked you up and down.

SMACK!

You didn’t have any control over what happened next. Your hand had basically shot out and slap him square across the face.

“How...dare you!” you snapped. “You know what! I don’t care if I lose my job. You sit there on your high horse acting like your above anyone when I bet you’ve never even washed your own socks!”

Yoongi was still in shock. You had never had enough guts to stand up to anyone. All sorts of thoughts raced through his head. Shock...rage...interest..

Dare he say, pleasure?

“I am the best damn think that’s happen to this house since the last maid quit and I have worked hard for EVERYTHING I have! So here’s what I have to say before I pack my shit and leave-”

“L/N...” he warned. “I wouldn’t say another word.”

“You can go-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Darling.” Yoongi warned. “It won’t end well for you.” he glowered.

“You can go fuck yourself!” you spat anyways. “FUCK YOU, MIN!”{ you spat his name out as if it were poison.

You had no idea how the series of events happened. Yoongi stormed up to you. You backed yourself against the door, scared out of your mind.

“Say it again.” he breathed hoarsely.

Wait what?

“What?” you voiced your thoughts aloud. “I’m sorry?”

“No.” he shook his head. “I’ve been waiting for this side of you for a while now.” He pinned his arms above your head. “Say it.”

“F-fuck you.” you whispered.

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do, Miss L/N.”

...

You woke up the next day to find feathers all around you. Your body ached every time you moved. You had remembered the night prior. You and Yoongi...

Speaking of which, he was still sleeping. He was laying with his head resting in his hands. He laid on his back, snoring softly. You were curious as to why he didn’t tell you to leave.

You tried to sit up. You didn’t wanna wake him. You’re uniform was on the floor, so you quietly got dressed.

“Were you going to leave without a word, maid?”

You turned around as Yoongi sat up. “A bit rude don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me still in your bed when you woke up.” you answered honestly.

“Well obviously.” he scoffed. “I was pretty clear in my intentions towards you.”

“Oh...you were serious?” you were surprised. “O-okay.”

In an instant you were pulled back into bed. Yoongi tightened his arms around you.

“Y’know while I’d love to be here with you in bed...I still have a job.”

“Fuck that...from now on your job is being my woman.” he scoffed.

Damn...DAMN he was smooth.

“With all due respect, Yoongi. I’m a firm believe in working for what you have, it makes the outcome a lot more satisfying.”

“Alright, you can keep working. However...I think it’s time I give you a promotion.” he kissed the top of your head.

“About time.” you scoffed. “I’ll have your breakfast ready in a second.”

...

“You seem very happy today Y/N.” Hoseok commented as you gracefully set down the food tray.

“Do I?” you replied. “Guess I had a change of heart.” you shrugged.

“Hm, what are you planning? You put laxatives in the eggrolls?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you.

“No...I’m not sure what’s gotten into me.” you replied.

“I might have an idea.” Yoongi walked into the room, adjusting his tie. He winked at you as he sat down in his usual spot. “Did you prepare my usual?”

“Just the way you like it, sir.” you replied nonchalantly. The other boys were concerned, you had never spoken in such a high regard before. You were always huffing and giving half-assed answers...now you were behaving like a sly kitten.

“Make sure you come to my room after breakfast, maid...we have unfinished business.” Yoongi didn’t look up from his newspaper. “I expect you in a timely manner....Miss L/N.”

For the first time since you started working there, you smiled. You grabbed the tray off the table, bending over painfully slow. He peeked up over the paper, raising an eyebrow. You could tell he was trying to hide his smile, but he managed to smirk through it.

“It would be my pleasure sir.” you replied, standing up straight. “Consider it done...Mr.Min.” You headed to the kitchen without another word before beelining for Yoongi’s room.

You would have a little surprise waiting for him when he got here...

...

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lovely-renard · 3 years ago

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Hello! Congratulations on hitting 300!! I hope I can still join in your matchup event~

My pronouns are she/her and I don't have any preferred gender, the fandom is Haikyuu. I'm ESFP and a gemini ♊ I'm a charismatic, funny and goofy person. If I were a symbol, I would be a heart on fire. I'm very passionate and emotional, so it's easy to make me very exited, I become happy and cheerful easily! But I'm also very sensitive, I feel angry very often too. I’m geeky and playful, but very jealous, selfish and stubborn sometimes, just like a kid. I seem very boyish, a very very big baby that looks like it didn't grow up. I'm a little clumsy, I bump into walls and trip very often. I accidentaly hurt myself a lot.

This messy mind don't take me anywhere. I'm not very organized, my ideas seem a little chaotic, and I NEED to write them immeadiatly to remember it. I’m the type of person that writes down extremelly confused dreams. I'm very impatient. I always seem to be late, no matter how much time I have. I bite my nails since I was a kid. Surprising everyone I'm very worried in follow the rules and I'm so afraid to be arrested-

I consider myself to be very optimistic, resolute and determined. I don’t believe in destiny, when something went wrong for me, I gotta search for a solution! But, when I don’t want to change or do a thing, I normally will not do it for other people. I'm bad at hearing advices, I just do the same thing I wanted to in the start.

I'm not pretty sure what's my aesthetic, so I'll just say a lot of things that suits me... Red, red, red, fire, cute and big things, steampunk, travelling, pop rock, magical girls and burning hearts!!! And all of the warms colors too. Oh and chocolate, cookies and brownies.

I have short bulky brown hair and brown eyes, and 164 cm height. I'm latina! I have a lot of beauty marks on my face, but the biggest is the one right up my lip. I search for comfortable and basic clothes. Where I live is really hot so I’m always on my red flip flops! I love anime/geek t-shirts, I have a lot of them! And my favorite color for clothing is also red.

My main hobbie is drawing. I draw on the walls of my room, in my hands and arms and at class all the time. All my notebooks are full of drawings. It’s rare to find notes from school subjects on them actually. I also love to write stories and to travel! It’s easy to hear me singing anytime too (I’m not very good at it). l love dogs, they’re my favorite animal. My favorite color is red, everyone that knows me knows that (kokkino means red in greek btw). Of course, I also love watching anime and cartoons.

Favorite songs: Being Human (Steven Universe), Town of Jade (Hatsune Miku), New Perspective (Panic! At the Disco), Four of July (Sufjan Stevens).

Also, just an information of the fandom I choose, if I were a Haikyuu character I would definitely go to Karasuno!

That's it, please take the time you need, and thank you very much! Hope this is not too big! 🧡

I match you with ... Nishinoya Yu ♡

Your relationship song : My type (Saint Motel)

Travelling with Nishinoya is always all fun and games… but only after you both decide on a destination. Together. Which is a difficult task. Instead of fighting and being stubborn like the both of you are, you both settle on a game to narrow down the choices and let chance choose for you : throwing darts blindly on a world map hanged on the wall.

While Nishinoya is looking for something to cover both of your eyes, you’re taking the box of darts you specifically kept all these years. “Ready?” you ask him, holding the box in the air as if it was some kind of treasure. “Hell yeah I am!” he responds with the same level of excitement. After a quick game of rock-paper-scissors (everything is a game at this point in your relationship), you’re the one who got to throw a dart. Nishinoya covers your eyes with a scarf he found in the closet and, once you assure him you can’t see, you aim blindly and shoot. You’re quick to remove the scarf and check the result : Madagascar.

Pumping your fist in the air, you loudly shout “Oh yeah! Baobabs, here we come!” Nishinoya is as excited, if not more, as you, already lifting you up and spinning with you in his arms. “I want to see lemurs too! And we’ll have to take pictures. Lots of them so we can add them to our album.”

You nod enthusiastically, adding “We have to go scuba diving too! And take a day off to just relax and sunbath on the beach.”

“Obviously.” he replies, kissing your upper lips while putting you down. “We need to prepare our bags right now. Come!”

And with that, you’re on board for another travel with Nishinoya by your side, something you’d trade for nothing in the world.

#hello lovely!! thank you for being here it was so fun to do your match-up :))#hope you'll like it!#love is in the air event #from : kokkino

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yusuke96universe · 3 years ago

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Turles and Lord Slug Team Up Pitch

Introduction

Hello guys, after watching MasakoX's What If Turles Turned Good parts 1 and 2 [which act more like an origin story for him within the frameworks of modern Dragon Ball similar to Super Broly] I thought I would share an old headcanon origin I had for another Dragon Ball Z movie Villain, Lord Slug and how it could make for an excellent part in this What If story that has captured my imagination. Also, it opens up a lot of potential avenues for ood DBZ storytelling.

I know he's considered one of the most uninteresting Villains in the franchise since he is essentially King Piccolo from space, but rushed in an hour long movie. Let's face it, a lot of DBZ villains aren't inherently interesting characters and usually are introduced as Pure Evil tropes

Trope Talk: Pure Evil https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-XprjlATEo

Irrelevant backstory

very simple motivation

enthusiastic, zestful villainy

Pure self-confidence

Third -Act Breakdowns (where they are faced with what they truly fear and usually fail)

Afterward, they could be open to becoming a more nuanced character to explore as we've seen done time and again with cast of redeemed or evolved villains in Dragon Ball

A lot of the movie villains from the franchise would be more interesting if they weren't rushed or were expanded on and boy does Lord Slug bring a lot to the table if he is expanded on.

1) You could have Turles and Lord Slug form a dynamic duo that counterparts Goku and Piccolo. Turles is a trouble-making youth-filled underdog who has taken a shine to the crabby old man that is Slug. Turles could use a lot more modern methods to contrast Slug's far more traditional warmongering that he's developed over the centuries. (They did it a little in Xenoverse 2, but you could really expand upon it in a MasakoX styled What If) Plus, the Tree of Might likely has the ability to restore Lord Slug's youth since it canonically resurrected fossils, so Turles literally has the solution to Lord Slug's main problem plaguing him and is an open-minded businessman by nature. This hypothetical team-up of working together to gain more power, invade planets for their resources and overthrow the Universal order by killing Frieza before returning to enemies, acts as an inverse counterpart of Goku's and Piccolo's initial alliance against the Saiyans invading the Earth interfering with Piccolo's own conquest, but opened the doors for change in him and others.

2) Most likely these 2 would start off as enemies and have their forces face off against one another, but this struggle is a good thing in the long run because they could potentially provide each other, their own personal Third Act Breakdowns or at least teach each other recognize their own flaws and weaknesses to help each other grow as characters.

Lord Slug's backstory, retooled

Planet Slug

The most fun thing I found was that they gave Turles a proper origin story to build a character around, well I have a suggestion for a similar concept for Lord Slug that I think you guys could use in many different ways, but before that. Here are the facts. In the backstory I found in supplemental materials, it is stated by Guru that Lord Slug and other Evil Namekians could have possibly escaped the crisis on Namek and moved to far-flung planets in other parts of the Universe. One Super Namekian named himself after the Demon inhabited world he found himself on, known as Planet Slug. And judging from the movie, Planet Slug is most likely an icy or snow-covered planet since the Demons needed special suits to withstand the Earth's temperature.

By the way, I imagine that Planet Slug and its people could have a Mongolian theme. (I have a sketch I did for an alternate costume for Slug, but I don't remember how to post atm)

If say Lord Slug came to this planet and eventually took it over in the King Piccolo style, then I could see him having birthed a clan of Evil Namekian children to help him in this endeavor. So let's say there are about as many Namekians children as Guru or King Piccolo birthed, then they are likely different clans of Namekians on the Planet, including a Dragon Clan member capable of creating their own set of Dragon Balls. In this way, Planet Slug could act as an alternate substitute for Planet Namek, but one closely resembling how the team initially pictured Namek as a planet full of evil Piccolos, instead of the peace-loving farmers of Namek. Now, why would Slug be in space expanding his Empire and searching for Dragon Balls when his planet likely already has a set? In the movie, it's best not to think about it, but here is my idea.

Why Lord Slug is REALLY in Space

One of Lord Slug's offspring usurped him from the throne due to his old age and sickly body. So Slug was humiliatingly forced to flee his home or was looked down on as a non-threat banished him and his most loyal men off-world to live in shame and to never be seen again. So he is conquering other planets, partly because he is a refugee, but mostly because he is overcompensating for his lost and trying to help his ego by living in denial and reassuring that He is the Baddest Baddie who ever lived and terrorize/kill those weaker than him as he ever expands his empire, lamenting his old age and sickened body. He believes that if he was in his prime, he could take his throne back no problem and make them all pay for wronging him. Luckily, Slug doesn't need the Dragon Balls to regain his youth. If the Tree of Might's Fruit is capable of reviving fossils, it should be able to restore the Super Namekian to his former glory once again.

Turles's Crusher Corps vs Lord Slug's Army

A fun way they could introduce the factions to each other is as competition for a lush planet. Turles wants it for the Tree of Might, and Slug wants to freeze it for them for their conquest. They both are in each other's way, so they all fight it out. I think Slug has stronger minions, but Crusher Corps have better teamwork, and with Turles being in prime fighting condition, he would tip the scale in their favor much like Goku did in the movie.

At first, I thought Slug wouldn't be much of a match for Turles in his old and sickly state, a little trouble sure since he is the strongest, but that aged body wouldn't do him any favors. However, the first Google search result I got on Old Slug's Power level said he was at 79,000 so he's stronger than I first thought. (I thought he was around Nail's power level roughly in the 40,000) I also heard that Turles was around 19,000 but by the end of the movie was like 300,000. These power levels don't mean too much when reimagining the stories, just that Turles might have more of an uphill struggle. So, Turles would first have to eat some Fruit to win in a landslide and hopefully, the Terrafreezing process didn't ruin the Tree of Might's process.

Right before the killing blow, Old Slug might've mentioned something In desperation to save his own life. He could've brought up the Dragon Balls on his home Planet Slug/ Namek could grant any wish he wanted. This is just enough to stop Turles from following through with his attack, but it takes a little more coaxing for Slug to sell the legitimacy to Turles. A part of Turles thinks this might just be hogwash, but if this is anything like the Tree of Might, this could be a huge find. Another game-changer. He has his men take Slug with them as he checks in with the Heaters' database and finds there could be a kernel of truth to this tall tale. So Turles generously spares the old Slug's life for this useful tip which is met with some impatient ire.

If you hate being old so much, why don't you just use these Dragon Balls of yours to make yourself young again? -Turles

I would if I could, but... but I can't. I've been banished from my homeworld by my own children after they usurped me from my throne.-Slug

hahaha So you're just some washed-up old geezer trying to feel tough by throwing your power around at a bunch of weaklings. -Turles

Watch it! If I was in my prime, I wouldn't have ever let that rebellion get that far and even made short work of you and your men. If it weren't for that Fruit of yours, you'd be nothing. -Slug

WHAT WAS THAT. (composes himself) Interested in the Fruit are you, well I am not naive enough to let you ever sink your rotten teeth in one. At least, not for free. We, the Crusher Corps, are branched off of the Heaters' group who are known to deal in intelligence. If you have some more valuable information to pass on then, I could be convinced to trade off a leftover Fruit from our latest venture. Do you have anything else to offer me, old man?

(Slug’s low growling sounds are giving Turles just the biggest shit-eating grin on his face)

Slug could tell Planet Slug's coordinates, could act as their guide, or how to use their Dragon Balls, or even that they need a native speaker to use them and a password.

Turles throws him a Fruit as he is a businessman and honors his deals. This not only works in reviving the Elder Namekian, but the results are far better than expected by restoring Slug to his prime. Turles is both impressed and a little unnerved by this so he opens up a dialogue as he scans Lord Slug's new power. (he thought it would add a few decades back onto his old life since he seemed ancient, but it straight up made him young again) They discuss what had just happened and Turles's operation using the Tree of Might's Fruit to amass enough power for him and his men to kill Frieza and possibly overthrow him. Lord Slug in the meantime has been enjoying his youthful appearance and renewed vigor during the conversation, not looking Turles in the eye, but still expressing interest in this operation and compliments the plan. Turles offers a proposition to Lord Slug to join them on this endeavor if he helps them get those "Dragon Balls" he mentioned right before.

That's right. You're interested in the Dragon Balls, are you? Well, I am interested in that Tree of yours. It could keep someone young and strong forever, and this whole operation of yours is simply remarkable! -Slug

So you're in? -Turles

Remarkable enough for me to take it for myself! So I'll be doing just that! - Slug

Round 2 Super Namekian Rampages

The Super Namek overwhelms all of them, even Turles, after just eating a bunch of fruit, the gap is just too wide. He sadistically tortures them and strikes fear into their hearts. Turles isn't just put on the backfoot, he ends up on the brink of life and death. He needs to reach down deep, and something in him snaps, could be his Saiyan pride, could be becoming helpless and at someone else's mercy, could even be one of his men, that unbeknownst to himself, he had grown fond of perished, his regret for overly relying on outside gains to accomplish his ambitions. Don't know, don't care, but something doesn't sit right with Turles and this something acts as the catalyst for him to transform, but not into the traditional Super Saiyan we've all come to know. No, Turles goes into the False Super Saiyan state and overwhelms the Super Namek almost beat for beat like FSSJ Goku vs Slug from the movie, but this time, it lasts the duration of the fight. It's more of a SSJ Goku vs Frieza kind of fight with Turles's victory.

Turles diet of Tree of Might fruit has affected his body's genes and so when he transforms it's not the traditional SSJ form like everyone else, but the False Super Saiyan state that Goku used against Lord Slug. (The Saiyan loses their pupils and also uses SSJ's original color scheme with the flickering red and black hair and the orange skin with a lingering Aura effect) They could have a lot of fun with the benefits and drawbacks this form and its potential evolutions could have. False SSJ potentially falls into the theme of using Fruit as a shortcut to power vs earning the power legitimately or as a simple means to contrast with Goku.

Post Fight ~ Alliance?

Slug doesn't die though, or if he does, Turles is smart enough to revive him with the Tree of Might's extract in a similar way as the fossilized twins were. The reason is simple, Turles believes that Slug's knowledge of his people is going to be essential in the nearby future, and since he's shown whose boss by dominating the Super Namekian, they can now work together to overthrow stronger enemies like Frieza by using his Planet's Dragon Balls. The Crusher Corps gets a guide and an ally; Slug gets his revenge and the prospect of taking Frieza's empire for himself by joining this operation is too much for him to pass up. This is a temporary truce to defeat stronger opponents and gain power, but once that is over, they are going back to killing one another similar to how Goku and Piccolo formed an alliance against the Saiyans invading earth.

1) A Super Namekian could exploit their race's fusion ability through some method of Mind Control like in the original Broly movie. So Slug or his evil offspring could literally absorb one another or even someone as powerful as Nail or Piccolo if the influence is strong enough to join together. And Turles with the Heaters' resources might just be able to provide a means to provide Slug this, with some precautions of course.

2) Slug might have knowledge of Kai and Demon Realms considering he is both an older Namekian like Guru, and the fact that he Planet Slug is literally inhabited by Demons, a different breed of Demons, but still Demons nonetheless. In the games, the Tree of Might's Fruit had its effects amplified in the Demon Realm, but the same might be said if the Tree is planted on the World of the Supreme Kais or Beerus' planet. It's just a possible option for later down the line, but if there was ever a planet that could sustain that Tree and boosts its effects it would be one of these places.

This is it, I know MasakoX likes to do the space opera thing with multiple factions and also like to mix things up from the original story from time to time, so I thought Planet Slug would be an interesting means to do so and giving Turles a partner to bounce off of is typical Toriyama writing, could even open up new avenues to explore.

Am I expecting this to happen. Honestly, I have low expectations MasakoX and his team would do this and they got their own plans of inserting Turles into the main story likely connected to the character in the hood (who is probably Zamasu for some reason like in the Gero What If) or one of the Saiyans from Turles' team or even eager to get him into the main story with the Z-Cast, possibly trying to win Gohan to his side, but getting converted by him like what happened to Piccolo, but I don't mind. My expectations are low, but my hype is through the roof, and needed to share my fan theories with someone.

#dragon ball z #dbz #dragon ball #lord slug #turles #slug #tree of might #masakox #what if #dragon ball what if #false super saiyan #false ssj #super namekian #super namek

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