#i kind of forgot. that i tend to Feel more stable on them just generally | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kikyan · 3 years ago

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You’re my favorite Human (Yandere Izaya x F! Reader x Yandere Shizuo)

Before ANY of yall say anything, I wrote this as a birthday special to an online friend I once had. If Izaya and literally anybody else sounds OOC, it’s because this was written back in 2018/2019 after I watched Durarara!! For a bit of background info, I first watched Durarara!! back in middle school when a friend admitted to liking the anime and well I decided to watch too. This show was too complex for my small ass mind so I dropped it. Then I met my online friend (we are no longer friends) who would always comment on Quotev where I was most active at the time. Well, I literally only picked up this anime again for said friend and the birthday request. I wrote this immediately right after the show so if it sucks ass, there is a reason for it. Anyway’s I promise to give them justice if I manage to write my spooky Slasher AU’s for them. Also if you somehow end up managing which ‘slasher’ Shizuo and Izaya fit I’ll write you a special one-shot within my guidelines for your birthday/Christmas depending on the time constraint. Here you go, for the curious peeps! This story branches off to two endings, Izaya ending w/ Smut and a Shizuo ending because I became a hardcore simp over that man and will literally do anything he tells me to. Regardless, I will edit the links and such for their appropriate endings! This story is also unedited so. . .have fun IG

ALSO THE READER IS A FEMALE BECAUSE THIS WAS A BIRTHDAY REQUEST THAT A CERTAIN SOMEONE DIDN’T LIKE SO YEAH FUCK THEM, BUT THEY WERE FEMALE AND WANTED THAT SO JUST REPLACE SHE/HER WITH THE PRONOUNS YOU FEEL MOST COMFORABLE WITH!!!!! I ALSO DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO WRITE BACK THEN SO YOU’RE A GENERIC MC WITH A STUTTER PROBABLY

God I sucked at writing fics so much back then. . .

"IZAYA!!"

The blonde man proceeded to pick up the red vending machine stationed outside a random building, preparing to lance it at the black-haired male he called Izaya.

"S-Shizuo!! It's not worth it!! Calm down!! Um- I know! I'll make some tea for you to calm down just please drop the vending machine!!"

"NO, I CAN'T! AFTER SEEING THIS PIECE OF SHIT I'M ALREADY FUMING WITH RAGE!"

"Shizuo!! Please!! Milk! Yep, milk will surely calm you down just please Shizuo!! You're attracting too much attention and you don't like violence right!!"

“Throw it Shizu-Chan. Or are you too weak to hold it anymore.”

"IZAYA!!!"

Shizuo turned away from the (h/c) individual as he began to grip a stop sign before removing it from the ground and began to run towards Izaya.

" Shizuo stop!! Geez, Izaya please refrain from edging him on! Shizuo don't give in! You're better, in fact, you want to be better!! You want to be stronger to have more control right!! Well. . . Don't give in!!"

At the sound of this Shizuo stopped before tossing the stop sign to the side and grabbing the (h/c) haired individual and dragging you off with him.

Looking back, the person Shizuo was dragging turned around to look back at Izaya before stopping in their tracks and bowing apologetically.

" I'm sorry Izaya for the commotion we caused, but I hope you understand that Shizuo is a bit difficult but I'm sure he can change! You too izaya, you seem to try to edge him on and that reflects poorly on you! So please Izaya, I hope you understand too!"

" Oi (Y/N), what are you apologizing for?"

Smiling softly at Izaya and giving him a shy wave (Y/N) turned to face Shizuo and continued to answer his question.

"Well, I mean I didn't stop him from edging you on!"

" I swear you really are the most optimistic, apologetic, and kindest person on this planet. You are one of a kind."

Laughing softly (Y/N) turned to Shizuo as they began to reply, " Thank you! It means a lot to me Shizuo!"

Walking alongside Shizuo, (Y/N) proceeded to make small talk unaware of the lingering dark eyes upon her figure.

"(Y/N), I swear I can't figure you out. No matter what you do or what happens you always apologize to everyone. Even that damn Izaya!"

"Well, Shizuo I like to be positive!! Besides, I'm sure second chances must be given!!"

" Hmph. Even those who commit the worst of crimes?"

"Well, I'm not the one entitled to forgive them for crimes committed against another, but I believe if someone truly wanted to, someone could change."

"Oh?"

" For example, you! I mean you've gotten several chances, haven't you? You have a stable job, although you can get quite violent, you have friends, and you are trying your hardest to change! So, I feel like anyone could change!!"

"Hmph. You forgot something. . ."

" I did?"

" Yeah, I also have the best person next to my side, you, (Y/N) (L/N)."

" I-I-I-I u-um S-sh!?"

" Heh, you get flustered all of a sudden and it suits your personality. I wonder how I got stuck with someone like you (Y/N). . ."

Bodies were lying around Shizuo in the school field as he huffed in rage and looked to the side to see a (h/c) haired female with (e/c) eyes looking wide at the scene that laid before them.

" Hmph, what are you scared?"

Shizuo asked as he looked at the female before looking a bit confused as he noticed the expression on the girl changed. She was smiling and shook her head before answering his question.

" Nope! I mean what you did isn't good but I'm sure you have a reason! Besides, I feel like deep down you regret it. I mean, although you are pretty violent, you probably don't want to be right?"

"I... .hmph. Stop being odd and spouting nonsense."

As the female turned to the bodies she bowed apologetically and began to speak.

"I'm sorry! I apologize for his behavior! He doesn't mean it! He regrets it! Besides, you guys should know that violence isn't acceptable so please apologize for your actions as well! Fighting isn't acceptable!!"

"HUH? WHAT THE HELL? WHO THE HELL YOU APOLOGIZING TO?"

" W-w-well I am apologizing to them and you!! I mean you didn't mean too!! Besides, fighting is wrong! Both parties were at fault so I must apologize for it!"

" WHY THE HELL DO YOU WANT TO APOLOGIZE? YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

"W-w-well!! They are knocked out and can't speak, plus you won't apologize, you want to but you can't bring yourself to!!"

" OKAY BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"

"I-I’M SORRY!! I DIDN'T MEAN TO BOTHER YOU BUT I THOUGHT THAT WELL I-?!"

"NOW WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING?!"

"I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO-!?"

"STOP APOLOGIZING!"

"I'M SORRY! AHHH I KEEP DOING IT!"

"YEAH. NOW STOP!"

"I'M SORRY I'LL TRY! WAIT-"

"OH JUST SHUT UP!"

"I'M SOR-!?"

"STOP APOLOGIZING! GOD DAMN IT!"

"I CAN'T IT'S A HABIT!"

"Geez, troublesome woman."

" Ahhh!! What time is it?!"

"Why the hell are you asking me?"

"Crap I think I missed my train! Now I have to walk home! Wait, that's fine! I missed gym class to help the teachers so this will count for my exercise! Of course, I shouldn't feel down!"

" You're unusually optimistic. I'd be pissed as all hell if that happened."

"Well I think everything happens for a reason and besides, you need to see the bright side of everything! Anyway, I need to go! I have to walk for about maybe 2 hours till I arrive home and I do have homework to complete! I'm sorry for being a bother but I hope to see you tomorrow at school!"

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"Let me, let me walk you home alright."

"B-b-but!?"

"LISTEN IT'S MY FAULT YOU MISSED THE TRAIN SO LET ME WALK YOU HOME DAMN IT!"

"Ahh okay okay! I'm sorry for bothering you but thank you!!"

"Yeah, yeah just stop apologizing and don't start again."

"Alright! By the way, what's your name?"

" Shizuo Heiwajima. Yours?"

" (Y/N) (L/N)!"

As they began to walk side by side (Y/N) began to laugh as she asked Shizuo questions upon question leading to Shizuo answering them and laughing as he realized, maybe having someone not fear him, was a good feeling.

"Hey, Shizuo?"

"Yeah? What is it?"

" Wanna go for Russian sushi?"

Looking down at the girl Shizuo gave his usual smirk before responding happily.

" Sure, why not?"

"Hey, Shizuo?"

" Yeah?"

Turning around he met with the female who became his best friend and possibly his crush. Smiling softly he turned to give her all of his attention despite the number of bodies surrounding him in the field of his high school.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to um, well. . ."

"SHIZUO! I have someone I would like to introduce you too!~"

" Huh?"

Shizuo replied in his usual tone as to be turned to meet the faces of the young boy with glasses, brown hair and grey eyes whom he quickly recognized as his friend Shinra Kishitani but the other boy, had dark hair and matching eyes he did not.

"What do you want Shinra?"

"Oh? Am I interrupting you and your girlfriend~"

"Girlfriend?! I-I-I’m j-just a friend!?"

Shizuo looked to the side but quickly locked eyes with the boy. Shinra looking at Shizuo quickly turned to introduce the other boy.

"His name is Izaya Orihara! He is in the same year and class as us!"

Upon looking at Izaya, Shizuo quickly launched an attack towards him before Izaya leaped out and grabbed his knife before slicing Shizuo across the abdomen. Shizuo looked down noticing the wound before looking back at Izaya.

"S-s-shizuo?! Are you okay? Oh, I'm so sorry this happened!!"

"(Y/N) it's fine and stop apologizing! You didn't do anything wrong! Besides, it was him, Izaya. . ."

"Oh? Come on Shizu-chan I haven't even done anything. . ."

"I'm sorry!! I apologize that Shizuo charged at you and hurt you! He tends to do that a lot, but I apologize on your behalf! Shizuo, I apologize that Izaya cut you! I'm sorry I couldn't stop him from cutting you and possibly distracted you. So please, violence is not the answer! Izaya and Shizuo I apologize and I hope you may make up and be best friends!!"

"Eh?"

"(Y/N) YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG! STOP APOLOGIZING FOR OUR MISTAKES!"

"I'm sorry! Ah, wait u-u-um well I know you both didn't mean it!!"

"Here we go again. . . (Y/N) STOP APOLOGIZING, ON TOP OF THAT TO THAT GUY!"

Shizuo was pointing at Izaya with a hint of disgust written across his face as Izaya looked dumbfounded for a split moment before asking, "Wait? You serious?"

"Huh?"

"Did you just apologize for something you didn't do?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bother you!"

"I-, well it seems this took an interesting turn of events. Well, goodbye Shizu-chan, (Y/N) right?"

"Y-yeah. . ."

Shizuo stood in front holding his arm protectively (Y/N) as Izaya twirled the pocket knife in his arms in a strange direction before smiling and whispering a small, “Interesting. . .”

As Izaya turned to leave, Shizuo muttered a small “ That bastard makes me so damn mad” before turning to (Y/N) realizing she had something to say before you were both rudely interrupted by Shinra.

“ Hey (Y/N) what did you want? You had something to say before that damn bastard arrived.”

“ O-Oh I-I did. . . um, Shizuo I wanted to ask if you wanted to miss the last train again and... .walk me home, and get Russian sushi with me. . .”

“ Is that your way of asking me out on a date?”

Teasing (Y/N) slightly she turned red upon hearing that before nodding her head softly. With a sigh, Shizuo smiled and dragged the smaller female by her arm before muttering a “ finally you asked” causing the female to turn even redder at the comment. (Y/N) ran a little ahead and turned back to smile at Shizuo before whispering “ I love you Shizuo. . .”

Walking to the shared home that Shizuo and (Y/N) have, (Y/N) grabbed a small jug of milk before handing it to Shizuo scolding him for getting violent, but congratulating him on holding back and not letting Izaya get to him.

“ I don’t know what I would do without you (Y/N), I mean it . . .”

“ I’m just lucky this happened when we were walking together and not when you were working. Izaya can be a bit extreme but I’m sure he means well!!”

“Heh, you always look on the bright side, don’t you?”

“ Exactly!! Looking on the bright side is exactly what brought us together!! I mean after you dropped me off at my house we got to be great friends, that's also when you confided in me your secrets and feelings. Then you began to realize that I didn’t fear you and truly cared for you. Then we went on a date, and became a couple! Dating for a good 5, 6 years?”

“ Yep, luckily we still love each other.”

“ I won’t ever stop loving you Shizuo, because you accepted me for who I am. Now it’s time to let me accept you for who you are. . . I mean I already did but you can’t get it through that thick skull of yours can you?”

“ What do you mean, I understand.”

“ Yet, every time you encounter Izaya and I’m not around you come home quite sad and always ask me if I would ever leave you. Shizuo, I would never leave you.”

“ Well yeah but. . .”

“ But?”

“ You’re right. I should head to work. See you later (Y/N). Take care and don’t do anything strange.”

“ I wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

“ That worries me.”

“ I’m just going to talk to Celty or just hang around the park! See you later Shizuo!”

“ Hmph. Later and don’t forget that I love you.”

“ I should be saying that but of course! Love you too and later!”

Shizuo smiled at the girl before heading off to visit Tom his friend and employer. They had another client that refused to pay up and Shizuo was going to “pay” him a visit to ensure he did. (Y/N) locked the door before going on her phone and texting Celty.

‘ You busy Cel?’

‘ No, not really. Why do you ask?’

`` I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out and chat.’

‘ Sure. I’ll pick you up and we can head off to the park. That fine?’

``you read my mind Cel. Alright, I’ll get ready.’

(Y/N) changed into a new set of clothing before waiting on the couch for Celty to pick her up and head to the park. Celty and (Y/N) got along well as well, (Y/N) always saw the bright side. When she and celty were close enough, originally being introduced by Shinra, Celty confided in her about not having a head and (Y/N) offered some light on the subject.

“ Well, head or no head I think you’re perfect just the way you are. For example, you can still do pretty much everything right? Aside from taste but still Celty! I think that is what makes you unique I mean, if you think about it, only those people who truly love and care for you will accept you no matter what. Take a look at Shizuo, he believed everyone feared him, but I didn’t. I love him! Just like I love you Celty! I accept you for who you are and you will always be celty with or without your head! So cheer up, I don’t like seeing my friends sad!”

With that, a new friendship was born leading (Y/N) to be best friends with the fearsome headless rider.

< - - - - - - - - - - - - >

KANRA HAS JOINED THE CHAT

Kanra: Hey guys! I have a question about a specific person.

Setton: A person? Who?

TarouTanaka: Agreed. It’s quite rare to see you not having information on anyone.

Kanra: Precisely, which is why I must know. Do any of you know a (Y/N) (l/n)?

Setton: (Y/N)? Not personally but I’ve heard rumors. . .

Setton: There’s not much I know about her, but I’ve heard rumors of her being in the Dollars.

Setton: Besides that, I’ve also heard she’s Shizuo Heiwajima’s girlfriend and possibly future wife.

TarouTanaka: Shizuo Heiwajima? As in THE Shizuo Heiwajima? Do you know the violent one?

Kanra: That’s so scary!! Who would put up with him?

Kanra: *Gasps* you don’t think. . .

TarouTanaka: Think what?

Kanra: You don’t think she’s using him do you? I mean, having a strong boyfriend has its perks right?

Setton: She’s not that type of person.

Setton: From what I’ve heard, at least.

Kanra: Oh? You seem to get a bit defensive. Are you sure you don’t know her?

Kanra: I mean, think about it. What is so special about Shizuo that would lead someone like her to love him?

Kanra: Honestly, I think she could be using him after all I’m sure there are more people that someone like her could pick from.

Setton: Well everything is just based on rumors, but I doubt she’s a bad type of person.

Setton: Love has always been a confusing matter. All that matters is that they like each other for who they are.

Setton: It’s not our place to make assumptions.

Kanra: Love is indeed confusing.

TarouTanaka: I agree with Setton, I am sure they love each other for who they are. Is everything alright Kanra?

Kanra: Yes, but it still stumps me on how little information we have of his girlfriend. Not only that but we have little information on the relationship as well. Has anyone seen her? Know what she looks like?

Setton: I’ve only heard a vague description of her: (e/c) and (h/c). I could pass her on the street and not even know.

Setton: But I’m sure she’s just a private person. We should respect that and try not to dig into her life.

Kanra: Oh fair maiden will I ever see you?

TarouTanaka: You sure you aren’t trying to steal his girlfriend?

Kanra: ^ 0 ^ Never!

Setton: This has been an interesting discussion and all, but I’m needed elsewhere.

Setton: Later.

< - - - - - - - - - - - - - >

SETTON HAS LEFT THE CHAT

Kanra: Well I better head out too, later Tarou!

TarouTanaka: Later!

< - - - - - - - - - - - - - >

KANRA HAS LEFT THE CHAT.

TAROUTANAKA HAS LEFT THE CHAT.

THERE IS NO ONE IN THE CHAT.

A figure began to ponder and look outside with a pair of binoculars as a female with (e/c) and (h/c) walked by.

‘ Oh? I think I should properly introduce myself to the fair maiden’

The young girl walked out of her house ready to speak with the dullahan. Upon seeing the headless rider the young girl waved her hand signaling the rider.

“ Celty! Over here!”

The rider began to make its way to the female before hugging and typing away on its phone.

“Oh good, I was worried I arrived too early.”

“ Nah! Even if you did, you would have more time to look around and notice life at it’s finest!”

“Oh Y/N, still as cheerful as ever, huh?”

“ Oh, you know it! Now let's head to the park! I want to see Ikebukuro at its prime time at night!”

“Of course, but as we’re walking let me ask: How’s it going between you and Shizuo?”

“ Well. . . I-I-I I think it’s going great! He isn’t getting as rowdy and violent so I think he is changing a little bit! He ended getting me a gift, a necklace to be exact for our 5th anniversary! It says his name! He also has one, one with my name!”

“I’m glad to hear you guys are going great. I’m sure that nothing could ever break your relationship, right?”

“ Exactly! He and I have never had a serious argument! Maybe a little scolding but it’s fine like this! I always end up congratulating him in the end! He is the sweetest! Every time he comes home he asks me if I love him which makes me sad because I hope he knows I do! However. . . he always ends up spoiling me in love! The real question. . . is how is it with Shinra?”

“Oh. . . Well, you know how he is. We’re as close as we can ever be, especially now that I’m more accustomed to the whole headless thing. That doesn’t mean I’m not looking, though.”

“ You will find it Celty! I know for a fact you will find it! I’ll help you when I have time! Hey look it’s the park let’s find a bench!”

[park bench scene]

“You know, Y/N, I heard that you and Shizuo were considering getting married. Is it true?”

“ Well, I-!?”

“ Well, Celty! I didn’t know you were here? (Y/N) too! What a surprise too! Do you mind if I sit with you guys?”

“ Well, not really! Feel free to sit Izaya!”

“ Interesting, now continue what were we talking about?”

“ Well, Celty asked about my marriage to Shizuo!”

“ So it’s true. . .”

“ Yeah! Celty we are! Sometime next week we were going to look for dresses!”

“That’s wonderful Y/N! If you need anything, I’m always available to help.”

“ Of course!”

“ Same here. . . a wedding between Shizu-chan and (Y/N) seems interesting. . .”

“ So (Y/N), why are you with Shizu-chan? What’s the catch?”

“ Pardon Izaya?”

“ I mean, why would someone like YOU be with someone like HIM? What are the perks of having Shizu-chan as your boyfriend?”

“ Perks?!”

“I know that you and Shizuo have an on-going rivalry, but should you be asking Y/N questions like that?”

“ I was just curious Celty! Besides, do you have the answer?”

“ Well, there are no perks.”

“ Huh?”

“ I love Shizuo, not for his strength or perks. I love him because he was kind to me. He accepts my optimistic side, even though it can be quite annoying and I accept his violent tendencies! He is doing so much to change and I will support him from now on! When we met, he kinda beat the entire team on the field and I apologized for the both of him! He got confused and I apologized for my behavior and we kinda got into a mini battle of him asking me to stop apologizing and well my apologizing even more! Nonetheless, I missed the train, but it gave me a chance to talk to him and as you can tell he walked me home! Since then, a steady relationship! So it’s not about the benefits, it’s what we feel for each other that motivates us!”

“ Interesting. . . “

“ I agree Y/N, it’s about love, not benefits. Might want to save a speech that profounds for your wedding though.

“ You’re right! Oh, I’m sorry Izaya for ruining the surprise!”

‘ Interesting. . . she isn’t like every other human, she doesn’t seem to lie, hide things, and seems to be honest. She seems to be optimistic. Hmph, interesting that she isn’t like all the other humans I love, she’s different and I can’t wait to see her face, her entire being change as I pull the strings from behind! (Y/N), you are quite interesting, you are like my special, no my favorite human and I need to see your reactions to everything... .’

“ (Y/N)?”

“ Ah, Shizuo! O-over here!”

“ Celty’s here too and-?!”

Shizuo stared at the black-haired male with such anger raging within them as he let out a growl before examining the area.

“ IZAYA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“ It’s a park? Am I not allowed to visit one?”

“ IT’S WHO YOU’RE WITH THAT MATTERS! (Y/N) DID HE TOUCH YOU OR HURT YOU IN ANY WAY?”

“ N-no! Shizuo we were only just talking! Besides, Celty was here with us! It was all friendly talk!”

“ Celty, take (Y/N) and go to Shinra’s place. I’ll meet you there once I finish killing this bastard!”

Typing away Celty nodded showing her phone with the message being, ‘Of course. Be careful before doing anything crazy, but please hear Y/N out first. Learn a bit about the situation before jumping into anything dangerous.”

“ Oh my Shizu-chan!~ So you are dating her. Isn’t that interesting. . . I say though it’s shocking, to say the least, that someone like (Y/N) would fall in love with you. Someone as fragile, beautiful, delicate, and forgiving like (Y/N) with a violent man as yourself, well I’d be damned!”

“ I’m sorry! Izaya, I apologize for Shizuo’s behavior as he ended up attacking you without hearing my part, which I still have yet to say! However, I apologize on your part as well Izaya as you didn’t mean anything by chatting with us, but you asked some not so nice things. On the bright side, you know the truth and know that Shizuo isn’t a bad person!”

“ (Y/N) . . .?”

“ Shizuo! Celty and I were chatting when Izaya approached us, we were just talking! He didn’t hurt me, besides Celty would have put him in his place before I would have! Please believe me, Celty tell him the truth as well!”

“Of course, there was nothing suspicious going on. Just a regular conversation full of small talk. Nothing shady or malicious between us and Izaya.”

“ Tch. Fine, but still take her to Shinra. I don’t want this bastard to find out where we live. I still want to kill him. . .”

“ S-Shizuo! It’s fine, we don’t need to go see Shinra!”

“ Aww, Shizu-chan you’re scaring her!~ Besides, what if (Y/N) doesn’t want to leave? You’re her boyfriend but you aren’t her owner. Besides, why do you get to keep her all to yourself, as you know I love humans, I can’t get enough of them! But she, she is quite interesting, as all humans I love her as well but aren’t you pushing it Shizuo chan?”

“ Keep that damn mouth of yours shut!”

“ I wonder, how long will it take you to screw up your relationship with her like you always do. Have you even proposed to her yet? Being the violent person you are you probably used someone's body as a foot stand before asking her to be your wife!”

“ NO! That’s wrong! He proposed at Russia Sushi! We went out to eat as it was also our first date! See, even Simon took the picture and hung it in the dining area! You can see Shizuo’s fist but that was because he was embarrassed Simon took a picture and well he snapped, see how red he is? I’m the one crying in the background while holding the ring! It’s even my lock and home screen!”

“ YOU DON’T NEED TO GO THAT FAR! WAIT-HE HAS IT HANGED? I NEED TO KILL THIS MAN FIRST THAN YOU DAMN IZAYA!”

“ NO NOT SIMON! WAIT SHIZUO!”

Running after Shizuo, (Y/N) turned around one last time before bowing apologetically and smiling at Izaya before running after her fiance. Celty typing away on her phone showing it to Izaya.

“Be careful about what you say around Y/N. I know what you’re trying to do and I advise you against it. It won’t end well for either of you.”

“ Whatever do you mean Celty?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N; the way you observe her with that calculated glee in your eye. Even if you do separate her from Shizuo, she wouldn’t be happy with someone considered a homewrecker. She’s too optimistic for her good, she’ll easily forgive you, but she would never be able to forgive herself for hurting Shizuo. If you truly value her like you say you do, don’t try to meddle in her personal affairs.”

“ I want to see every possible reaction from her, so this is quite tempting. Besides, Celty why do you care much about her? I love humans and I’m not willing to share, (Y/N) is no exception.”

“Y/N is the best person I know. She’s kind no matter what and brings hope and joy to all of those that she comes across. She deserves to live the best life she can, one filled with no despair or tragedy. You need to learn to respect that and move on.”

Celty, displaying her anger towards Izaya, revved her motorcycle upwards causing several people to look in worry and walk away to avoid getting hit. Izaya stood unamused with his smug grin as he watched Celty chase after the couple to take them to Shinra.

“ Celty, it’s a shame. All humans will experience despair no matter what, even our darling (Y/N). It’s just how long will it take for her to fall into despair that’s the real game and who the one pulling the strings will be.”

Izaya began to walk away only to stop at Russia sushi and was quite intrigued by the photo that was taken. As he began to examine the image he saw (Y/N) smiling with tears rolling down her eyes as she turned to the camera holding the ring Shizuo had given her. On top of that, he saw Shizuo, quite red ready to punch Simon for taking the picture.

“ Well well, seems she was telling the truth. I guess he didn’t screw it up.”

“ Izaya, I heard about what happened.”

As Izaya turned he was met with Simon the dark-skinned Russian who began to speak in his native tongue signaling that this was a private conversation.

“ Simon, how’s it been?”

“ Don’t ruin it.”

“ Ruin what Simon?”

“ Shizuo and (Y/N) found happiness here so don’t ruin it.”

“ Oh? What makes you say that?”

“ (Y/N) is special, the unpredictable happens around her but that doesn’t mean you should ruin what they have for the sake of your entertainment.”

“ Special huh?”

“ You like her don’t you? Leave her with Shizuo, she is not meant for you.”

“ You see Simon, you’re right she is special but she isn’t Shizuo’s. I believe her to be one of the few people who aren’t on this playing field. She, like all humans, belongs to me. I won’t let Shizu-chan, Celty, or even that damn Saika blade have her.”

“ Izaya, I know you don’t like losing to Shizuo but that does not mean you have to ruin this relationship. For once, let it go.”

“ It’s Shizuo who needs to let her go.”

With that Izaya left the place before walking away thinking about the girl. Since he met her years ago he realized how forgiving and optimistic she truly was. It shocked him, every human he met would be the same and oh so predictable. Shizu-chan and Simon would be the unpredictable ones spicing up his entertainment but (Y/N)? She was the most unpredictable one of them all. She took both sides of an argument and attempted to find a solution and she would keep Shizuo in check something that no one could do. On top of that, (Y/N) forgave anyone and you could never guess what she would say next, but her actions were always surprising. As he entered his workplace he was met with Namie Yagiri who looked at him in disbelief.

“ It’s late where have you been?”

“ Ah, Namie I was out with Celty and (Y/N) (L/N).”

“ (Y/N) (L/N)?”

“ Shizuo Heiwajima’s girlfriend, well fiance but not for long.”

“ What do you mean, not for long?”

“ Well you see, I intend to steal her away.”

“ You never seem to bother with people’s love lives anyways. Why now?”

“ (Y/N) (L/N) is a fascinating human! Here on this board, Shizu-Chan is the king and (Y/N (L/N) would be his queen, but the queen is one of the few people with free-range movement, in other words, the most powerful piece, nonetheless all are useful but the queen is the one who defends her king. If the queen is removed you’re pretty much set to fail and the king is left weak and ready to be dethroned. So, Shizu-chan is only strong with his queen, but this fascinating human being should be next to me, her God!”

“ So you want to use her-!?”

“ No! You’re not getting the picture! I am going to take the queen and leave her next to her god’s side! ME! With Shizu-chan weak I’ll simply kill him and fully take (Y/N) (L/N) as mine!”

“ I thought Shizuo provided you with the most entertainment. . .”

“ (Y/N) makes up for both of them, I don’t need Shizuo when I have his queen. . .”

“ Shizuo! Wait!”

Shizuo was walking faster while dragging (Y/N) behind him as they proceeded to go to their house after staying at Shinra’s.

“ What for?”

“ I’m sorry for embarrassing you in front of Izaya. . .”

“ I’m fine, as long as it was you I didn’t mind.”

“ You sure?”

“ Of course, now let’s go home. I’m tired.”

��“O-Okay!”

As they entered the home in which they both own Shizuo immediately grabbed (Y/N) as he held her close before asking her yet again, “ Do you love me?”

“ Of course silly! I wouldn’t marry someone I don’t love! I love you to the moon and back Shizuo and I wouldn’t change that for the world! No one and nothing would ever split us apart Shizuo! You accepted me for who I am, now it’s time you realize that I accept you for you!”

Cuddling closer with the (h/c) hair colored female he blurted out something that made her turn red upon hearing it.

“ I want a baby.”

“ A WHAT?!”

“ A baby. I hope to be able to be a father once we wed.”

“ W-w-w-w-what g-g-g-gave you that idea?!”

“ We are both at a young age, once we marry I feel like we should have a child. I won’t rush or force you but I think we would be great parents.”

“I...OKAY! Of course! After we marry, we can have as many children as we can!”

“ W-Wait you serious?!”

“ Of course Shizuo, because I love you to bits! Just like I will love this child, I'll make sure you both know how special you are to me!”

“ I do wonder how I found someone like you (Y/N). . . I love you!”

“ I love you too Shizuo!”

As they both fell asleep in a lovers embrace Shizuo was reminded of how much (Y/N) loves him and was also reminded that she will never leave him. Izaya was wrong, (Y/N) loves him for himself and as Shizuo sighed in relief as he cuddled closer to the female, not being feared, but being loved was a great feeling, the best in the world.

“ Now. . . what should I make for dinner? I should make Shizuo’s favorite meal, but that means that I need to go shopping. Oh well.”

(Y/N) pulled out her phone before sending Shizuo a quick text saying how she would be stepping out and would be home soon. After getting an, ‘alright. Be safe.’ text she immediately set out to the store. As (Y/N) was searching through the ingredients she came across a hand reaching for the same one, the last one.

“ Oh, I’m sorry! You can take it!”

“ No, no that fine! By all means, take it.”

“ Izaya... .?’

“ Ah! (Y/N)! Isn’t that wonderful? I wanted to speak to you!”

“ Same! Just let me finish shopping and I’ll go with you!”

“ Here! I’ll help, by the way! Feel free to take it, I don’t need that ingredient as much as you do.”

“ Thanks! Are you sure you don’t want it though, I’m making a meal for Shizuo but I can always go to other stores! If you want it you should take it! On the bright side, I can get my daily walk in by going to other stores and I might be able to browse through other items I may need!”

“ Oh? A meal for Shizu-chan? Then, by all means, take it. I wouldn’t want to make him upset.”

“ Thank you Izaya! You really care for him!”

“ Well, I wouldn’t say that. . . “

“ Well, we should get going! I think I got everything I needed!”

Walking to the park in silence was a little awkward until (Y/N) lit up at the sight of ice cream.

“ Hey Izaya, look it’s an ice cream truck! Do you want some? My treat!”

“ Actually, it will be mine! Which one do you want (Y/N)?”

“ (F/F) please!”

“ Of course!”

Upon getting the ice cream ( Y/N) desired and Izaya getting one for himself they decided to sit on a bench and she continued speaking with Izaya.

“ Izaya, I have a question.”

“What is it (Y/N)?”

“ Well, why do you like edging Shizuo on? You know he is trying his hardest to change, wait, is it to push him? To see how much he needs to improve left?”

“ You really are optimistic aren’t you? Not exactly, you see Shizuo tends to act differently from the rest. . . he truly is unpredictable so I just want to see every possible reaction from him. Just like you?”

“ Me? I hardly think I'm unpredictable, I feel like you could read me easily.”

“ You can’t and that’s the best part. I truly love all humans (Y/N), they are just so interesting! In the end, they all act the same yet it’s so exciting!”

“ Interesting. You like the unpredictable more though right! I do too! It’s like a book, if you can predict the way it ends then it isn’t all the fun. However, if the book ends with a plot twist and catches you by surprise then it is fun! Every new day, every new day is something different for me! I feel like, when you look at a new angle you end up seeing things you’ve never seen. This could easily impact what you think or what you do! That’s what I try to do to make my day more interesting!”

Izaya looking at her with insanity swirling his eyes grabbed her hands causing her ice cream to fall before laughing.

“ You understand me! You see what I see! You truly do deserve to be next to your god's side! Tell me (Y/N), you’re very forgiving, aren’t you! Every god needs to judge and punish the sinners, BUT THEY ALSO NEED TO FORGIVE! THAT MY GODDESS IS WHERE YOU COME IN! WITH YOU BY MY SIDE, WE COULD TRULY RULE OVER THESE HUMANS! JUST AS I LOVE HUMANS, THEY SHOULD LOVE ME TOO! THAT INCLUDES YOU (Y/N), DO YOU LOVE ME?”

“ I-?!”

“ That’s enough!”

Turning to Celty who began to write furiously fast on her phone shoved it in front of Izaya as he skimmed the words that were written.

‘Shizuo is on his way, leave if you don’t want your ass kicked. I told you to leave (Y/N) alone! For once, listen to me!’

Celty grabbed (Y/N) and led her to the motorcycle before writing on it explaining that Shizuo was around the area and was planning on picking (Y/N) up from the store. Celty mentioned that she too was around the area and that she was asked by Shizuo to help him look for her as well. Nodding, (Y/N) turned around to meet Izaya smirking, despite all she smiled at him and bowed before apologizing.

“ I’m sorry Izaya! I hope to talk to you soon and I apologize our time was cut short. I’m happy that you told me a little about yourself Izaya as I told you I like to see both perspectives before saying or doing anything. On the bright side, although our time was cut short I realized that you trust me a little and bothered to open up a bit! So I'm glad!”

Indeed Izaya found his Goddess, she forgave all and will forgive all. Smiling a bit he turned and wished her good-bye before plotting a plan to take her from Shizuo forever and make sure his goddess was with him all the time. Besides, even if he committed a crime, his goddess, (Y/N) (L/N) would forgive him.

(Y/N) was riding with Celty until they found Shizuo in which he expressed his concern for the female. He examined the ingredients and smiled realizing what she was planning on doing before ruffling her hair.

“ I still have a little bit of work left but I'll make it home in time for dinner.”

“ Of course! I’ll get started on dinner right away!”

“ Alright. See you then, oh (Y/N).”

“ Yeah?”

“ I love you.”

“ I love you too!”

Getting out of the shower, (Y/N) proceeded to dry her hair with a small towel wearing (F/C) shorts and an extremely overgrown shirt, more importantly, it was Shizuo’s bartender shirt that he allowed her to wear. It fit more like a dress but no one was complaining.

“ I better get started on dinner, Shizuo is going to arrive any minute!”

Proceeding to get the ingredients (Y/N) was washing the vegetables when she heard a click signaling the door was open.

“ Shizuo I’m not done with the meal-... Shizuo... .?”

Examining the living room she noticed that the door was opened but no one was in the room with her, that was until she heard a familiar voice from her right ear.

“ Good evening, My goddess. . .”

“Iza-!?”

With that Izaya knocked out (Y/N) cradling her in his arms before making his way to him home with the young girl, his Goddess.

“ Wake up sleeping beauty~”

Izaya was poking her cheek repeatedly hoping for the young girl to awaken sometime soon and luckily she did.

“ Izaya, w-where a-am I?”

“ Why you’re in our home my goddess~”

“O-our? Goddess? Izaya what’s going on?”

“ You will be living with me from now on~ You see I explained it to you, I love humans my dear (Y/N), you are no exception. However, unlike all the other humans you have an interesting personality and you are quite unpredictable making each new day exciting and something to look forward to! Someone like you should be by my side ruling alongside next to me! Just as I adore humans, they should adore us, as they should!”

“ I-Izaya I’m sorry but it’s late and I need to get to Shizuo before it gets too late-!?”

“ You aren’t getting it! You aren’t going back to Shizuo! You belong to me! Besides, Shizuo is weak right now! I could easily get rid of him!”

“ He isn’t! Shizuo is quite strong! I know for a fact that he can overcome anything! Now, please let me go before I-!?”

“ You aren’t seeing the big picture (Y/N) and it saddens me. You see the queen is the strongest piece in chess. Shizu-chan is the king and you by right, are his queen. If we take the queen away, the king is set up to fail. Haven’t you realized, everyday Shizu-chan asks you if you love him and to never leave him? Coincidence I know? I always make him doubt of this reality because without you Shizu-chan would be a violent monster! Think about it, you’re the only thing that can hold him back but you aren’t by his side! Shizu-chan does not want to be feared but he thinks it’s a fantasy, someone like you being in his life that he just needs to confirm if you love him too!”

(Y/N) gasped when she came to notice her fiance's true feelings. Feeling down, (Y/N) looked to the side to examine the board Izaya kept close to see if she could find a pattern or attempt to figure Izaya out to create a plan.

“ In fact! I think he is worried sick trying to find you, but he won’t! Even if he does, he doesn’t have the right to take my Goddess away!”

In the meantime, Shizuo was frantically searching for where (Y/N) could be. When he arrived home he came to see the door open and no sign of (Y/N) causing his anxiety to spike up at the thought of losing you forever. Having enough he texted Celty and even the dollars home page alerting all members to keep an eye out on a female with (H/C) and (E/C) as she could be in danger.

“ Celty! Have you found her yet?”

“ No.... but I think I know where she is. I hope she isn’t though. . . “

“ Spit it out! WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?!”

Shizuo was running out of breath as he looked at Celty with desperation as he saw her type away with incredible speed, but the answer both shook him and angered him to the point of no return.

“ I think she is with Izaya. If so, we must hurry!”

“ Of course! Leave this to me. . . I think it’s time that bastard met with his fate.”

Shizuo walked away with anger as he began to prepare his fist to execute the man who stole his fiance.

IZAYA ENDING w/SMUT

SHIZUO ENDING

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minkdenmilo · 4 years ago

Text

Alright so I’ve seen people want more female content creators, more POC content creators, more LGBT content creators within the Dream SMP and YES- I want that too- but... we should take a moment to hype up the content creators who already fit these categories!

Here is my list of the POC, LGBT, and women content creators who are regularly active on the Dream SMP and my personal takes on them and their content! So please give these content creators some love and more attention because they all deserve it so much!!!

Women Content Creators

+ Nihachu

- If you like sweet, adorable, more laid back streams than you’ll love Nihachu. Able to play around with both more playful funny moments and then be a great dramatic actor for deep lore moments as well.

+ Captain Puffy

- So wholesome and the only stable adult on the Dream SMP. She is SO funny- like her roasting Skeppy and Badboyhalo is the highlight of my day. A very fun energy and can also jump between lore and jokes like no one’s business. If you like Ranboo then I’m sure you’ll love her.

+ Hannah Rose

- I’ve only just started watching her but her streams so far have been so relaxed. She’s the perfect mixture of sweet as sugar but also sassy and able to hold her own. She gave Tommy a rose then jokingly roasted him over his constant demanding over it. Also her builds are so aesthetic and her stream set-up is gorgeous to look at.

LGBT Content Creators

+ Eret

- All of their streams are chill as fuck, literal vibes. He has the best music tastes ever and has public Spotify playlists if you ever want to hear more of her tastes. Very open about being LGBT and the chat for them is continually one of the nicest I have seen and very supportive to those coming out. Eret is a great streamer to watch when doing homework or classwork because you can watch him vibe without being too distracted unlike Tommy or Quackity’s streams.

+ Nihachu

- Please just... Nihachu in lore is so overlooked but you can clearly see the hell she’s gone through as a character and seeing her go from a starry eyed running mate of Fundy’s to a women determined to destroy Tommy and Dream for the pain they’ve caused her and her former nation... it’s so good. Also her and Jack Manifold have the best Team Rocket dynamic of all time.

+ Captain Puffy

- Captain Puffy in plot as a sweet older sister figure to all the disturbed minors is iconic and her therapy office is so cute. She is the mom friend to Awesamdude’s dad friend energy and she is equally as commited to taking down the egg so watching her continually try to avoid the Egg and help those she cares about is the best.

+ Antfrost

- Go check out Antfrost’s twitter first and formost because he and his boyfriend (Velvetiscake) pop off with every tweet. Secondly, Antfrost is generally a chaotic presence but in a much more lowkey way than most other SMP members. As a character his motivations are pretty hidden right now but him and Badboyhalo are a great villian duo. Antfrost also regularly streams Pummel Party stuff and Jackbox stuff with his other friends (and his boyfriend) which keep me in stitches. Stg if he and Velvet flirt like that on their Jackbox streams one more time I will lose it 😤 (/lh)

POC Content Creators

+ Skeppy

- He doesn’t stream often but every time he does he pops off. Also, not super involved in lore but whenever he joins he pops off. Him and Badboyhalo’s dynamic is iconic and just- so fucking funny! But also Skeppy does Youtube videos on his Youtube channel which are usually rather short but honestly so funny. He mainly trolls Badboyhalo or does like Minecraft challenge videos and as simple as that may seem he always makes me smile with his high energy and general chaotic nature while still being pretty family friendly and relaxed. Very good if you mainly watch Youtube or don’t have time for long VODs and streams.

+ Ponk

- I have only just found out about him but he is SO wonderful. His voice firstly is oddly soothing so that’s a plus but he streams frequently! And he usually streams at an earlier time than most other SMP people (aka not late at night like Quackity and shit) and he genuinely is so funny. He talks to his chat a bit more than the bigger streamers and goes between a casual, chill vibe and a specific kind of chaos that reminds me of like- when Ranboo is hyper. Please I can’t express how much I love Ponk please just watch his streams. Also Ponk in the Egg Plot makes me cry with laughter- mans is so picky “Can I have an iced mocha please?” like sir you are literally being trapped with an evil egg.

+ Quackity

- Quackity is an icon. Stream his song “Any Askers” on Soundcloud. Watch any of his Roblox, GTA, or Soap Opera streams. He shouts a lot and is high energy so he’s perfect if that’s your vibe. He sings like an autotuned angel, is so sweet about donations and gifted subs, and has amazing chemistry with everyone he streams with. Within the lore he is also an amazing actor with a really complex character and I am so glad he is getting his time to shine with his capitalist arc. Though he does tend to stream later at night.

If I forgot any Dream SMP members please let me know and in general just leave recommendations for good LGBT, POC, and women streamers if you can! Feel free to reblog because I love all of these content creators and I want people to hype them up 🥺

#dream smp #dream smp fandom #dream smp ponk #nihachu #captain puffy #antfrost #quackity #dsmp quackity #dsmp ponk #mcyt #skeppy #twitch streamer

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xxsmokeyy · 4 years ago

Note

ok so how about a story where (preferably bi) reader and levi both fall for petra and there's this competition between them as to who can win petras heart first but after petras death (or some other issue; your choice) they both mourn and bond with each other and realize that all those times they tried to outshine each other, they fell for each other instead

Levi x Petra x Bi! Reader (F) One Or The Other

genre: mild angst, fluff (healing)

summary: it’s a bit surprising that despite being rivals, both you and Levi have gotten through a lot together. before you know it, you’re already seeking refuge from one another.

tw: mentions of death

wc: 6,575

You know it’s a heck of a risk trying to aim for someone’s hand like Petra’s. She’s the entire definition of a dainty, lovely girl everybody admires, of course including you. Besides, you don’t even know if you stand a chance, not when there’s a tough guy your way.

Namely, Captain Levi.

Well, there’s another one named Oluo, but you don’t even think of him as a competition. Definitely not a threat as well.

“Hey,” you call the girl with strawberry blonde hair. She looks back at you with a smile and stands upright, wiping the sweat trickling down her neck. You watch as she tucks her hair behind both her ears to get rid of the stray fringes. Isn’t she just hot?

“Need help?” you ask, ready to give her a hand upon seeing her singlehandedly clean the stables.

“I don’t think Captain would allow that,” Petra says before petting the said man’s horse. “Am I right, big boy?” she talks to it, combing its black mane with her slender fingers. Adorable.

“One dick of a Captain we have, don’t you think?” you say, rolling your eyes heavenwards as the image of your superior passes by your mind. “Hmm, not really. I believe his austerity is right just the way it is,” she says in full decision. Of course. The one thing you don’t like about her is the way she worships the shitty Captain like some kind of noble man.

You let out a disappointed sigh, crossing your arms. “You have got to stop being a clean freak apologist, Petra. Unless you’re inlove with him or something,” you point out and take a step towards her, taking away the broomstick from her other hand.

She’s visibly spent to the bones, tending to the horses all by herself to meet the Captain’s regulations. He only always assigns one person per duty, saying soldiers should learn how to clean alone just as much as learning how to fight, which is an utterly dumb stance in your opinion.

When she blushes by your words, a small pang hits your heart. It’s just as you guessed.

Not that it’s not so achingly obvious enough these past few years, but it’s only gotten worse ever since the new 104th recruits joined the Scout Regiment. She keeps praising the dickhead in front of them whenever they ask about him, telling them a variety of stories stretching from way back, it’s ridiculous.

“I don’t!” She really doesn’t. She just idolizes him so much that it comes across as romance. People keep rubbing to her face that she’s inlove, though it’s definitely not what she feels.

Her denial nature and easily flustered reactions keep your spirits low, almost surmising with a conclusion that you had no chance at all if not for the fact that she never made romantic advances to him her whole stay in the army.

“You do,” you avert your gaze, not wanting her to notice the brewing jealousy in your eyes, else she might avoid you or act awkward if she finds out.

“I don’t!” she presses, accidentally pulling on the horse’s crest, forcing a neigh out of it. Petra apologizes to it like it can understand her. “If that isn’t definitely guilty, I don’t know what is,” you mumble under your breath, releasing another sigh as you start sweeping the scattered hay.

Once the Captain’s horse calms down, she faces you, hands on her waist, ready to explain her feelings in fine details. “Look—“

“Who said you can slack off?” Speak of the devil. Your conversation is given a good interruption when the dark haired man arrives.

Petra immediately fixes herself, fist slamming to her chest as acknowledgment of the Captain’s presence. “We weren’t, Captain! She just wanted to help me out,” Petra clarifies right away, voice firm and booming.

You feel the infamous pair of fierce eyes dart on you, and you briefly thank anything that first comes in mind for your current position, back facing the Captain so he can’t see your disgusted scowl.

You prep yourself and turn around, giving him a half-assed salute. “I just finished with the laundry. Thought I could give her a hand,” you say, tone almost holding no formality at all, “—sir,” you lazily add.

His brows twitch as he hears you out. Brat.

“I don’t recall telling everyone to work in pairs, neither of you understood that?” he pinpoints, staring you dead in the face. You’re not intimidated, though, not one bit. If you think I’m scared, you can kiss your own ass. “I insisted. In case you didn’t notice, she’s tired,” you inform, steadiness unwavering. What is even wrong with assisting someone? This merciless prick.

“Oh?” He walks toward you in strides, easily coming face-to-face with you in a span of seconds.

“Come to my office, Petra,” he orders without looking at her, and the woman gives you one last glance, then making off after giving him a polite yes. There it is. He’s about to show his true colors, you just know it.

“Cheap way to win her over,” Levi lowly spits at you, and you can feel his hot breath ghosting harshly over your face. “If you’re so kind, do it all over again,” he orders lastly, internally entertained by how your eyes shut close in fury, grip on the broomstick tightening.

As he finally steers to leave, you swear in your life you never wanted to hit someone so damn much it’d knock them out cold.

Levi heads back, footsteps fading into the background, and an exasperated groan leaves your mouth. You frustratedly throw the broom to the floor, startling his horse, which does nothing but make your blood boil stronger in your veins. Fuck him!

—

You lie down on the hard ground, even more deadbeat than the girl you opted to help. For shit’s sake, who knew this is what you get for volunteering to be of use? You can only imagine how the new cadets would have it hard once the Captain notices their mediocre cleaning skills.

It’s probably nearing curfew, you guess from the excessive appearance of stars in the skies, but your muscles are strained stiff you can’t come inside any time now. You were left with no choice but start from scratch. If you act up and not clean up to his standards, you’ll only get it way worse, so you decided not to push him further.

You sense someone approach you, and you strongly wish it isn’t Levi. He’s the last creature you’d like to see today.

Soft and familiar amber eyes greet yours from upside down, a petite body looming over you, and you couldn’t be anymore thankful. Petra gives you a sympathetic look before sitting down beside your laid form, keeping her hands behind her back.

“I told you,” she starts, “it’d be no good if Captain sees, but you insisted and he arrived! Now look at you, you’re absolutely exhausted, aren’t you?” she continues to scold, though it doesn’t strike you as a scolding. More of a concern, yes. A smile creeps up your lips.

“Just give me the bread,” you confidently say, and she sighs in defeat before revealing the pastry she had in hand. Your heart feels giddy as you sit up straight, taking the food she went out of her way to prepare. It’s like the tiredness just disappeared into thin air. What an angel.

Petra scrunches her nose as she watches you eat in speed. You cock a brow as you see her look at you like you’re— “Do I stink?” you frantically question and smell yourself all over. No way, you’ll definitely get points off now!

She giggles bubbly and shakes her head to dismiss your assumptions. “No, but you’re biting like you haven’t eaten in ages. That famished?” she asks once she’s calmed down.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, unsure of what to think. She’s definitely an angel, especially when she smiles. You sigh for the nth time, “Obviously. Did you see how much of a bastard our Captain is? In all honesty, I’d prefer Hange as our squad leader,” you complain and resume to munching.

“I don’t know about that,” she says, gaze boring into yours. You tear your eyes off of her and stare at the horse stalls. “What did the old geezer make you do?”

“Nothing, just a bunch of paperwork,” she says truthfully. Oh, for all you know, he just wanted her all to himself. What an unfair move, using his authority to have her alone.

You angrily bite down on the bread, later realizing you’ve finished it. As she observes you, her eyes widen, suddenly remembering something. “I forgot your water!” she exclaims and rises to her feet, but you stop her before she can leave, grabbing her soft hand.

Your chest stutters involuntarily from the contact and you compose yourself right away. “It’s alright, I’ll get it myself. Go back to your room before Captain catches you,” you urgently say, not wanting her to get in trouble again. “Just help me up,” you ask to which she generously follows. You briefly wish the moment could last longer.

“You sure?” she quizzes when you finally stand up. Both of you heading inside, you nod and hum in agreement, “Thanks for the food.”

She gives you a smile as you both reach the halls, waving you goodbye before you part ways. Ahh, you feel all energetic now.

You walk to the mess hall, footsteps light and shallow. Judging from the dimly lit corridors, it must be a few minutes away from curfew. You just hope you don’t bump into some higher-ups. Hange’s fine, though.

As you push the door open, you regret it right away. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter unintelligibly. Aside from the raven haired man, the room is dead empty, a lone candle in a chamberstick providing dull light. Technically, he is the last creature you see tonight.

You have lost count of how many sighs you’ve released the whole day, all energy in your body draining once again. Steel eyes lock on you as you enter. There’s no turning back now. Well, at least Petra isn’t the one who found him here.

Levi cocks a brow as he watches you proceed inside, seemingly heading to the water jug. You stay quiet and take a glass, then filling it with water. As much as possible, you don’t want to converse with him.

He seems like he won’t let you succeed with that. “Done with the stables?” he asks, sipping on his tea.

“Yeah,” you curtly answer, not up for some bantering.

“Some goody two shoes you are,” he scoffs, ticking you off, but you refuse to let it show. You face him and lean your back against the counter. “Like you’re any better with your assholish attitude,” you sass him out, drinking on your water all the while remaining eye contact. You’ll show him.

“And you complain like the little brat that you are,” he rebuts.

“You’re just threatened that she might go for me behind your back when I just wanted to help,” you answer with a shrug, taking a few steps closer to the table he’s seated.

“Women like you like to play dirty.”

“You don’t know a thing about women,” you snide with a condescending smile, belittling the man before you. He can’t be one to talk about women when he treats you like shit. If there’s someone Petra might end up with, you sure as heck wouldn’t want it to be this guy.

He throws you a glare, piqued by your words before standing on his feet and and walking his way to you. You stay steady, unfazed by the intimidation he’s giving off.

“After all these years, do you seriously think you stand a chance?” he deadpans, which strikes straight to your feelings. He doesn’t have to emphasize that, you already know it, memorized it even.

“I don’t know, but it’d be just as much as a loss if she chooses you,” you say, slamming the glass you’re holding onto the table. After giving him one last glare, you turn your back on him, having enough of the senseless arguments.

He hates how you only ever treat him as a Captain in the battlefield, but not when you’re at ease. You always looked at him like an arch nemesis of the sort, not afraid to answer back at him like he doesn’t deserve your respect. He stressfully closes his eyes and massages his temples as you leave.

—

You sit on the bench, just in front of the Captain, who is currently beside your beloved Petra. Look at him making his moves. You roll your eyes discreetly, sipping on your fresh tea.

“What are you, on a diet or some crap?” Levi asks, finding Petra’s plate empty, bowl of soup halfway finished.

“No, I gave it to the girl you made run laps,” she informs, “she almost passed out, you know.” Right? you wanted to agree but decide to sit still and listen.

Levi doesn’t answer, and instead puts his own loaf of bread on her vacant dish. “Eat. We have an upcoming expedition,” he only says and sips on the liquid left in his cup. Petra’s cheeks turn into a feminine shade of pink, and you so wanted to pull her away from him. She exclaims a yes and starts munching. Great, I should’ve done that first.

You’re not about to put up without a fight, though.

“Dear Captain has to eat as well, don’t you think?” you sarcastically chime in, transferring your unmoved bread onto his plate. “Can’t have him thinned to bones when the walls get breached again,” you add, innocent smile downright infuriating to Levi’s eyes.

You desperately try to keep in your barging laugh to yourself as you watch him look at his plate disgustedly.

What do you say, Petra? I’m just as kind as he is, right? That show off.

Petra hums in agreement and nudges the Captain to eat, a string of hearty giggles leaving her velvet lips, alluring about a total of three people from the same table. You heart skips a round of beats as you watch her flash her toothy grins. Talk about an appetizing view.

Her giggles boil down as realization hits her. She gives you a mixed look of confusion and thoughtfulness, opening her mouth to speak and stop you on your tracks.

“But—”

You wave her off before she can shove her worries to you and prop yourself up, momentarily stretching your limbs in relaxation to then pick up your dirtied china.

“Don’t worry, Petra, I’m already full,” confidence brimming in your tone, you tell her and take your leave. But not without giving the Captain one last glimpse. It was even more appetizing to see him pissed.

Your other comrades only watch in awe as they see the unnamed rivalry uncover ahead of their eyes, your victorious smile determining the whose triumph it is for today.

How about that?

—

When you finish with dish duty, you head to the dining area once more to check if the sconce candles are extinguished, only to find them still lit and burning, with a side of holy bastard, as you like to call him. Of all people.

“Here again? What is this, your lounge room or something?” you mockingly ask and take a seat in front of him, wiping your wet hands on your pants. He ignores you.

You purse your lips out of observation. He must be a tea addict, having another one after dinner. “Are you always here every night?” you ask again, initiating a genuine conversation.

He finally looks at you and sets his tea on the table, a bit surprised by your question. “I am,” he answers. You nod, about to ask another question but he beats you to it.

“I’m removing you from the flank,” he suddenly blurts, taking you aback. What? Your rested face visibly loses composure as your brows furrow together.

“What do you mean? Is it because I shitted on you earlier? Oh please, do you think I’ll hit on Petra while on a mission?” you continuously spurt in one go, hackles slowly raising.

“It’s not about her. Erwin specifically asked for you to join his group since you apparently answered him right,” he remarks, completely calm. You are smart, that’s already a given that he knows, it’s just that feelings can get over the best of you that he doesn’t find rational.

Your ragged breathing upon taking him the wrong way steadies as you listen. “The Commander?” you confirm and he grunts his response. “Alright then, you better watch over her in my stead.”

Levi takes a glance at you, steel grey eyes holding an unreadable expression, which you find amusing and triggers a laugh out of you. It’s like his answer should have been already staring you in the face. Naturally, he’ll do that without you ordering him.

He can be cute at times, can’t he? In a funny way of course, you inwardly clear out.

Meanwhile, he thinks you’re out of your mind as you humor yourself. He’d honestly like it if you just leave him alone right now, which you eventually did, waving him goodbye.

The night before the expedition, you pay Petra’s room a short visit.

She answers the door within three quiet knocks. “Hey,” you greet with a smile and she offers to let you in forthrightly. “No! It’s fine, I just need a few seconds,” you dismiss.

“What is it?” she curiously asks, now face to face with you as you stand in her doorway.

“I won’t be with you tomorrow, so you better take care. Stick with Gunther, or Oluo. If possible, not with the Captain,” you whisper the last bit jokingly, but she ignores it and only questions why you’re separated. You explain the situation to her, leaving out the confidential details.

Petra nods, stroking her chin. You notice she’s already in her nightwear and is probably prepared to sleep, so you decide to return to your own quarters.

“Take care, alright?” you remind, eyes boring into her borderline gold ones. They were pretty and gentle, a pair you always adored through the years.

Petra wishes you the same and then a good night, strongly wanting to unite with you safely after the mission you could feel it deep inside you.

As you look at her, you‘re certain that you haven’t met a more loving person your whole life. Will there ever come a time that you’d confess to her? Probably not. If you’re being frank, you don’t think what you feel for her is that deep a love that you’d go out of your way to initiate a romantic bond. If nothing else, it might only be admiration, an attachment at most. You like her, that goes without saying, but there isn’t any room for in depth involvement, especially not in this line of work, you think.

The door to her room finally closed, you spin to get your own shuteye, only to see a familiar figure from a little distance.

The candlelights on the halls define the highest points of the man’s face beautifully, and you identify him without a hitch, dull grey orbs meeting yours.

“Let her sleep, and get your rest,” he briefly says before making off. Your eyes slightly largen from the lack of interaction, as opposed to the reprimanding you expected. Was he supposed to say his regards to her as well?

In all fairness, he didn’t go for your neck this time. Well, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Morning comes quickly, along with the falling into formation as sketched, the deployment of operation, and the arrays of discoveries you found in the progress. Everything happened quickly, and before you know it, the expedition is given an official beat to retreat.

You stand on the same branch as the Commander, waiting for his signal to flee after fighting off the wave of titans to defend the target. Three pair of your blades are blunted down to nubs from the excessive charges, and you think for a moment if you should replace them with new ones.

Catching your breath, you wipe dry your dampened skin and clothes. You watch as he idly chat with the Captain, instructing him to refill his gases. For what? I thought it’s over?

Levi listens to what he’s told, perceivably on his guard. Why is he even here? Where are the others? When you’re just about to call Levi’s attention, Erwin catches sight of you and the confusion resounding from your aura. He then permits you to break away from his flank and reunite with your own squad, and you gladly follow.

You first help clean up with the immobilizing equipment used on the spy, telling Hange to prepare for withdrawal. She passes the message onto the other soldiers, commanding them to bestride their horses to then get going.

You still don’t know where to find your teammates, so you stick with the higher-ups a little longer.

Since you’ll travel by horse from here on, you decide not to meddle with your gears anymore. You hop on the saddle and lightly yank the reigns to start moving, and with everyone else, you ride through the woods, thousands of questions ready inside your head.

A few moments later, you hear Erwin converse with Hange regarding the spy, about how they must still be alive and how they must’ve blended in by now. You feel the tension rising as you listen to his assumptions, trying to register everything he’s trying to come across with, and it all makes sense when you hear two consecutive thundering of little intervals.

You quickly turn around and swerve, shifting your weight to guide your horse back to where the booming sound came from. It’s the alleged sound intelligent titans make when they transform, and you know push has come to shove if you hear two of them.

As far as you remember, the key weapon was situated together with your squad, you being the only one left out, so you’ll find them where Eren is. You let your horse gallop in great speed, heart thumping loudly in your chest it’s almost deafening. Please, be safe.

It feels like decades have already gone by when you arrive at the terrorizing scene of carnage.

You put your horse to an abrupt halt and jump off, cold sweat breaking without control as you stumble upon corpses and corpses you achingly recognize, the life in their eyes strenuously extracted. Gunther, Eld, Oluo… Petra.

An immense vertigo hits your head, your field of vision blurring upon seeing them drained of consciousness. You refuse to accept the view, shaking your head like a child in utmost declination. It seems you’ve only followed behind the Captain, finding him looking at the same plight.

“Levi…” you helplessly call as if seeking for refuge and saving. But it horrifies you the most when you meet his dead gaze deprived of rest, almost exactly looking like theirs, striking violently at your heart. No, not you, too…

Streams of tears shed endlessly from the corners of your eyes, and Levi doesn’t know what to do. He’s beyond pained, watching the only comrade he has left on his team slowly break down due to the shambles. He can’t afford to be frozen by the fathomless torment he’s currently trying to overcome, nor does he have the luxury to stay by your side and console you.

He has no choice but to keep moving.

“Call the others for assistance and put their bodies on a carriage,” are the last words he gives you before taking his leave, wires zipping and clutching into the surfaces of the tree barks as he skillfully maneuvers with his gear.

You think for a second, is he that used to losing people? but you completely miss out on how he slashes the giant enemy in great anger, expertly cutting flesh like he’s never done before as if it’s his only chance to momentarily pour out his emotions, all the while trying to stay objective.

Your whole body weakens and you fall to your knees, getting a closer look at the dead woman before your sight. Your hand acts on its own, stretching out to painstakingly tuck Petra’s locks behind her ear like how she always styled it. Your lips tremble as you attempt to fight your threatening sobs back.

She has slipped out from both your reaches.

Since then, you limited your interactions to those that were only really necessary, because for the first time in a while, you feel utterly alone. Years of having the sweet girl by your side all gone into the dust, along with the overwhelming loss of your whole squad, everything is weighing you down.

Flashes of memories come at the most misplaced time every now and then, and you can’t handle it when it triggers in public, causing you to lock yourself up in your room, weeping in secret.

You can’t be any more thankful to your Captain for letting you wallow in your own way of coping. Most importantly, though a small part of you still doesn’t want to admit, you’re more than grateful he stayed alive all throughout the last of the mission, coming back home with you.

You still remember the hurt in his eyes that no matter how hard he attempted to conceal, still peers out. It was visible when you had no choice but to throw the bodies out of the carriages, bringing not a single fallen soldier back. It was visible when Petra’s father asked the Captain for his daughter, even going as far as spilling his plans of arranging a marriage between the two young pair.

It’s haunting you so much, you haven’t had an hour of sleep after arriving back even if there’s an upcoming operation. Despite it being against your will, you frequently wonder how he’s doing.

One night, you find yourself walking through the halls, unable to force your mind to just shut down and rest without stressing out for the uncountable time.

You don’t know why you’re fully decisive of where to go and who to find. You don’t know why you feel calmer every step further. You don’t know why you’re so eager as you push on the wooden doors of the mess hall. You don’t know why you already expected to see him there.

“Oh, look at the old geezer drinking his tea in the dark. Do you know what time it is? It’s past curfew,” you inform sarcastically, voice also forging a front to sound normal. It’s not yet past curfew, you just want to tick him off.

“You’re only four years younger, and it’s not,” Levi answers as he lets his eyes land on yours. It’s obvious you’re only trying to clown around, the exhaustion in your face giving away your crestfallen state.

“What? How do you know that?” you ask, scandalized.

“I recognize the time.”

“I meant my age?”

“Because I am your Captain, woman. Don’t push me,” he hisses and brings his teacup into his mouth, the hot beverage staining on his tongue just the way he likes it. Even more so that it’s the only thing he can rely on at the moment. That’s what he thinks.

You scowl and sigh. Fair enough.

You take a seat in front of him and he gives you an unreadable look, as usual. Does he feel intruded? All of a sudden, you feel shy, hoping you’re not bothering him.

“What? I won’t mess with you, I’m tired,” you argue upon seeing him stare you down like something’s off with you.

Levi studies your expression, finding your face a bit similar to his in a not so positive way. With a shallow sigh, he decides to let you be and do what you want.

You prop your cheek on your elbow and maintain eye contact. “How’s your leg?” you quiz, genuinely curious of his current condition. The bastard brought home an injury as souvenir, rendering him downright useless for the plans the Scouts had right ahead.

“Not good,” he says, earning him a hum in response. The longer he lets his glance stay on yours, the more he notices the little details in the way you presented yourself.

Tonight, you spared no effort in fixing your hair, still a bit messy from the tossing and turning earlier in desperate hopes to fall asleep. Your lips were dry and chapped, he notes to call you out for it later. For all he knows, you might be dehydrated already. Your eyes? Unquestionably racked with pain.

You rest your face on top of your overlapped arms and settle to find a comfortable position.

“Go to your room if you want to sleep,” he orders, which you only ignore. Does he seriously think you’ve been able to sleep these days? Because you’re sure as heck he can’t with those dark under eyes of him. “Your neck will only get stiff in that position,” he adds.

Something about the company he generously, though not obviously, offers makes your eyelids fall shut in ease, his baritone voice helping your nerves compose themselves.

“I said I’m tired, give me a break…” you gradually lose volume as you speak, slowly drifting off without knowing.

Levi clicks his tongue when you finally succumb to drowsiness.

It’s not like he doesn’t have any options left, but he couldn’t do anything as he stays all night to watch over you. Surprisingly enough, the company felt comforting that he can’t bring himself to leave.

Couple hours later, he’s still up and reading a book when he hears a soft whimper escape your lips. Levi takes a glimpse at you and is a bit baffled to catch sight of a lone driblet trickling from your lids.

Sighing, he feels inclined to wipe it away with his thumb in sympathy and does as his subconscious says. The moment his calloused finger touches your skin, he realizes that you were undeniably warm. So much for a brat like you.

When you wake up, you feel a heavy cloth wrapped around your soldiers. You check the surroundings and remember falling asleep in the dining, later seeing that the fabric is a tan jacket, a uniform. The familiar scent enters your nostrils, and you name its owner right away.

An involuntary wave of heat rises to your cheeks and you’re uncertain why. It’s Captain Levi’s.

It makes you contemplate out of nowhere, was it wrong to treat him like a competition?

Thinking about it, you kind of regret not being casual with him. Without question, you’re not really in best terms with him, having an eye for the same person for a long time, that should be understood. He’s an outstanding soldier, that you can admit, but you can’t exactly put up with his strict ways at times, some of it coming off as irrational.

Maybe you should really just accept the fact that he’s a great Captain nevertheless. Because even though you viewed him like that all this time, he’s still being considerate in some ways.

A small smile forms on your lips. You definitely should start warming up to him. He’s the only team you’ve got left.

—

Tray in hand, you enter the Captain’s room, not bothering with a knock. To hell with that, I’ve got a handful, if he complains about his privacy or some crap, I’ll shove this damn food to his face.

Yes, you decided to bring him his lunch after the successful-fail raid in Stohess District. Honestly, you’re damn tired to the bones, but you take it upon yourself to give Levi a short visit.

He gives you an annoyed stare, obviously not expecting your company, and you only roll your eyes. “What’s that?” he asks.

“Food. What, is your old age getting to you? Need some glasses?” you talk back, not up for his dumb question.

Things aren’t going so well for the Survey Corps, political stances going against your brigade, comrades dying one by one you’re not entirely sure if their death was in vain or not. It’s only a miracle the Commander found a way to nullify the consequences about to come your way. That’s why Levi better not raise your hackles bad or your brain will completely explode in front of him.

He ignores your sardonic jest and eyes the tray, primarily looking for the tea, if you brought one. You did. But he keeps his hands to himself for a while.

“It’s too early for dinner, and I could’ve gone to get my own food.” An exasperated sigh escapes your throat, hearing his argument.

“This is your late lunch, sir,” you inform candidly, taking him by surprise. True enough, you didn’t mean to be so observant, but you saw him skip lunch earlier before the raid. Heck, this isn’t even the first time he deliberately missed it. You know he’s still unwell and at a loss just as much as you are—maybe even worse, and that’s preventing him from taking care of himself.

Of course, he’s still your Captain whom you’re willing to serve, wholeheartedly, at that. Hence, you’re going to take care of him if he’s not doing it himself, whether he likes it or not. If even this guy leaves you, then you’ll probably arrive at the end of your wits.

With an exasperated sigh, you set his meal on top of the nightstand right beside his bed. “Are you enjoying being a useless Captain?” you cross your arms and quiz, having enough of his prideful attempts for rejection.

“Tch, you know full well I’m not,” he answers and averts his glance, looking outside the window and the dimming skies.

“Then eat your food and stop complaining,” you lastly command, real bossy and assertive that he’s on the brink of cocking a brow in question.

He falls silent. You were right, he won’t get any better if he continues to mistreat himself. Besides, it’s already you who went out of your way to prepare him food, he shouldn’t just let that go to waste. Finally giving in, Levi first grabs the teacup by its mouth and takes a sip, nose immediately scrunching in repulsion upon tasting the beverage. You might be trying to poison him, after all.

“This tea is shit.”

“I said stop complaining.”

—

A whole different wave of hurdles and complications just got overcome after the wall breach alarm got deemed false, and three new intelligent titans were revealed. Seeming as though those weren’t even enough, humanity’s key weapon got kidnapped as well. Naturally, a rescue operation was deployed to action, losing a ton more soldiers in the process.

Everything is starting to become overwhelming, you’re both physically and mentally exhausted, and emotionally. Everything is beginning to feel like a pain in the neck, as if the Scout Regiment didn’t have that way from the start.

It’s actually just as you guessed. When you went outside without a full functioning team and a Captain to follow orders from, you felt lost and misplaced. The novel experience was depressing, to say the least, moving forward without the ones you’ve fought side by side with through the years.

You can’t help but find yourself looking for a familiarity, a middle ground of the sort. Feeling like a storm is building up inside you for trying to suppress your problems all by yourself.

On the low spirited trip back, you eventually realize you needed someone. And who else is there aside from him?

You ride your horse back to the walls, aching for his presence. Anything that has to do with him, you want to see and feel.

It’s almost like vexing decades have passed when you arrive and return to the headquarters. You hop off your horse, movements slow and back hunched, aura visibly despondent.

Your half lidded eyes desperately scan the fields to search for that one person, comforting satisfaction taking over your entire body as you find him standing a few meters away from your form.

Funnily enough, he was waiting for you just the same.

Levi couldn’t decipher what shitty smile you tried to give him, it was only plain pitiful in his eyes that his guts are telling him to walk over to you and give you a welcome. He didn’t have to do it, though.

Because maybe you did the first step. Maybe you took big strides or maybe you eagerly ran to his figure to feel his warmth against your body. But nothing else matters when you reach out both your trembling arms to him, now wrapped around his sturdy body, locking him in an embrace you never thought you’d feel your whole life.

You slowly descend to a sobbing mess, completely abandoning the idea of you looking like a mere crybaby in his eyes. He’ll surely bring this up some other time, but damn that. All you know is that you needed this, badly.

It’s shameful, being fully aware that you’re slowly eating your words. Whenever you think of how you put the tiny distance between you and him, you just want to slap your palm across your face. In reality, he isn’t so bad.

You want to thank him for letting you free yourself and let it all out, but your awfully shaky sobs are hindering you from doing so.

Levi senses your exhaustion, and a whole other variety of intense emotions. You’ve been keeping some burden to yourself, too. It’s amusing to him in a way that you’re both similar in a lot of things. Especially in the bad habit of bottling oneself up, assuming it’d do any better.

Deep down, he’s glad you let loose and opened your walls to him. He cares for you, after all.

As you weep against his chest, lungs stuttering and eyes turning bloodshot, Levi allows his hand to pat your back, lightly stroking it to make you calm down.

It is, indeed, wordlessly reassuring, telling you that he was there. You never imagined that of all people, he had the ability to offer the exact solace you’re looking for, just with the simple gesture.

For once, he lets it slide that you’re all bloody, sweaty, dirty, filthy—name it—when making contact with him. He just doesn’t know that needed this as well. In fact, the entire time you were away, his foot mindlessly tapped in full expectancy of your arrival, waiting with bated breath. Not like he’ll admit that.

“Don’t you dare speak,” you threaten amidst your shaky hiccups, and he almost finds it amusing how you can still manage to act so tough in front of him when you’re already breaking down against him.

He secretly heaves out a sigh, the expression of relief escaping your ears, “Brat.”

Both of you stand there underneath the twilight to dusk horizon, ignoring how some of your subordinates watch you in shock, or how you’re not halfway the trouble yet, still utterly clueless of what lies ahead. Because right now, you were still together. You had each other, someone to lean on in this wretched mess.

Without the two of you knowing precisely why, both your hearts feel a tad bit alive.

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enneamage · 3 years ago

Note

Do you have any personal biases towards or against any of the ccs you've typed?

Understanding is kind of a weird antidote to frustration, so when I’m in analysis mode I tend to move away from personal feelings a bit more. I’ve joked with friends that when I’m in the zone I can never say “what the fuck is wrong with you” because sometimes I already know, the mystery is gone :P.

Because god thinks it’s funny I have had a ~parasocial~ soft spot for some 3w4’s before, but it’s a weird “would I like you as a person or is the Venn diagram between us just overlapping in funny places” question. Them being nerdy analytical little room dwellers isn’t always the best for them but it’s when I feel the most connected to them.

I was ambivalent about Wilbur for a long time and I had to settle on a “bro I can’t do this anymore it’s not worth it” negative read, because if I tried to be more fair to him I would flip-flop in stress forever. Wilbur was my white whale for a while in the sense that I wanted something to do and something about him felt off enough to be worth investigating. I wasn’t digging or anything, I was actually just watching clips and videos to get a sense of what he was like, but in retrospect I was too generous. (That’s something about figuring him out, it seems almost unreal how the most unstable parts of him turn out to be the most consistant and the maturity he displays is more put-on than it seems.)

This was a lesson in how Twitch clips can be misleading and silence is golden, because I feel like I never really got the full picture of who he was until I watched a modern Origins stream and was confronted by how stunningly annoying and abrasive he can be. That was when I gear-shifted from being curious but suspicious about him to being moderately alarmed; his time-from-promise-made-to-promise-broken average went from months to seconds. Stable people do not act like that. I also had a sixth sense of when he was trying to subtly punish people around him, which took on a way darker tone once I realised something was genuinely wrong.

I’m actively stopping myself from getting too frustrated with Ranboo because I know I’ve got a bad conflict history with 2’s, and I want to prevent myself from getting overly annoyed with people over things that they can’t fully control. I’ve had relative goodwill for him most of the time, but I mostly experienced him from a distance. I can’t remember when this happened, but I had a moment a while ago where I watched a Twitch clip of him being passive-aggressive to chat and realised “oh, you would drive me crazy, actually” and then started to watch myself a bit more to be sure that wouldn’t happen. The way that he’s handling stress right now manifests as him negging and testing his audience, which might explain why so many people are like “fuckin excuse me” and his ticks feel more personal. (It’s because on a certain level he's trying to make them personal.)

Despite my trust issues from years of surreal YouTube drama, I do find myself wanting to have faith in Charlie. He seems like a genuinely good person who has a relatively solid moral compass, but I also have a heart built for breaking so maybe he steps on dogs to feel alive or something. Edit: God I forgot to talk about how I probably have an inflated sense of sympathy and understanding for Schlatt. My brain could be (and probably is) acting up but on an intuitive level I feel like I get him in an "I'm not entirely sure I can rationalise this" way. Like I don't have information insights I just have these bizarre intuitive "same hat" moments for someone who on paper I wouldn't have much in common with. Might be growth-point psychology acting up.

#mageposting #featuring an edit

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thatblondeperson · 4 years ago

Note

TimSteph, taking care of chronic injuries!

Hey look, another ask that got buried! Sorry friend!!!!

This is all preboot, RR/Batgirl era.

Ok so Tim is super extra imo when it comes to treating any kind of sickness, injury, ANYTHING. He’s the type of guy who will go to CVS and buy out the entire “cold + flu” aisle as soon a Steph gets a runny nose. He absolutely drowns her in cough drops and tissues. I can see him being extremely attentive as well. Like bringing blankets and pillows around the clock, happy to carry her from point A to point B, almost insisting to do so on occasion, and just sitting with her for as long as she desires/needs company. He absolutely pays no mind to germs. Steph can cuddle all she wants.

Steph is similar but less extra. She’s got some more classic home remedies that Tim doesn’t have. She absolutely would baby the hell out of him if he got sick though, and probably more often than not she has to put her foot down on him trying to patrol even if he’s completely out of it and burning up. Tim has a hard time relaxing, but eventually the time is used for him to catch up on sleep. Tim getting sick is like a mini-hibernation. I can see Alfred stepping in occasionally if they were both sick because Tim’s an absolute mess, and Steph can only do so much before she gets wiped out. They’re hopeless and completely out of service if they’re both ill at the same time. Error 404: Dorks not found.

Chronic injuries are a constant process. Steph obviously has a ton just from Black Mask alone. I’m sure she gets aches and pains on the regular due to the severity of the torture she experience. Power drills would leave some lasting abdominal pain for sure. Hell, I wonder if it makes cramps worse for her? It could in all honestly. She may need serious pain meds during that time of the month which are of course always kept on hand. On top of that, the physical trauma definitely left endless mental trauma. No question about it. Not to mention that time she got lightly shot in the head. I say lightly because I forgot this was a thing because they don’t really address it again. I imagine that would cause occasional headaches/migraines, and I’m sure Tim likes to run a scan every now and again to make sure there isn’t any lasting damage. And of course, we return to the medicine cabinet for more pain pills. (Thank you @incoherentbabblings for reminding me of the gunshot.)

I headcanon that both of them get nightmares on almost the regular. They’ve both got it set that if one of them is in the middle of a bad nightmare, the other just holds them close, doing whatever they can to soothe them until the calmness sets back in. The nightmares get more spaced out some time after they move in together because I think the constant safeness of having someone beside them every night would eventually help them both sleep through the night better. It is hard to get back to sleep though. Both of them have been put through the ringer, they’ve both seen death of loved ones up close and personal, and I imagine a lot of what they’ve experienced is still very vivid and intense for them.

Tim’s got his own fair share of recurring pain. The boy doesn’t have a spleen and tbh I don’t know how he’s not getting sick more frequently. But extra precautions need to be taken to keep him from getting infections when he gets any kid of open wound, thank GOD Steph is a nurse. Tim has to be kept pretty healthy though if at all possible, which brings us back to my previous headcanon about him not caring about germs when Steph is sick? Yeah, not his smartest move, but Tim’s an idiot and forgets that he’s fragile.

Both of them have regular joint issues. They’ve dislocated enough things for just about everything to make awful clicking sounds now and again. Steph doesn’t have as much regular muscle pain, she’s far more flexible than Tim is so she stays pretty loose and limber, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to work at it every day. Steph does yoga as a part of her routine. She gets Tim to join sometimes but he’s not very good at keeping up with it. He’s flexible too but not to her level, and he locks up easier if he’s had an especially tough night. They both try to put the time in to exercise when they can, spotting each other, keeping a routine going, because given how much they both get beaten and battered on the daily, if they don’t keep up with muscle pain, it’ll just get worse. On bad days when the pain makes any mobility difficult, massages ensue. They’ve got at least 15 ice packs in the freezer at all times, and a stack of heating pads in the medicine cabinet. And if all else fails, a nice hot bubble bath never hurts. With Epsom salts and everything. Steph likes to add a touch of lavender oil.

Immediate injuries they’re both very good at treating. Steph obviously has more technical knowhow, and she is the most medically trained of all the Batfam members, but Tim is detail oriented and good at focusing when he needs to so he can keep up just fine. They’re both good at stitches and general wound treatment, but Steph is better at consistent treatment. Tim will absolutely forget to switch out his bandages or clean things because his brain is soup and he cannot be bothered to think about injuries when he’s too busy with 50 other things on the constant. He needs to slow down. We get right back into “more prone to infections” again. Alas. Idiot.

They both have their fair share of mental health issues, though Tim’s tend to be more intense. Steph has her ways of managing her own mental state but Tim gets stuck often. He falls into some pretty deep depression spells, and his anxiety acts up fairly frequently. Steph has started teaching him how to meditate, but also has a list of distractions and special remedies that she can utilize if need be. Movies and tea are a good base line, though Tim’s mind gets very far away sometimes and it’s hard to pull him back out. Like he almost wants to wallow in his sadness. Often she just tries to ground him as best she can so he doesn’t get so lost that he can’t come back. Steph likes to make sure that he isn’t always using patrol as a crutch for when he’s feeling upset or tense. It’s hard to sway him away from more pain when he lets himself get so close to the edge. It breaks her heart, sometimes she feels helpless.

Steph has anxiety as well, and some psychosomatic tics from her past abuse. She needs a lot of reassurance and gentleness when her mind starts racing. She’s still prone to trust issues, even now when she’s surrounded herself with stable people. She’s been let down and she fears losing her steady ground sometimes. Tim, let’s face it, hasn’t been the most reliable in the past, but I firmly believe that with some growing up he’d step up to the plate and try to be a solid home base for her to the best of his abilities. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon. He’s very good at being gentle. That’s canon as fuck. I will die on the hill that Tim is as delicate with Steph as one would be with a priceless porcelain heirloom. Fight me, the boy would never intentionally try to physically or mentally hurt her. He tries so hard to reassure her but I thinks he feels a little helpless sometimes too. Some of her trust issues are his fault, and he can’t just snap his fingers and reverse his mistakes. He tries his best, but there will always be scars.

All in all, I think they’re both very tender and caring with one another. They’re both beyond broken sometimes, and they are a mess and a half. But they know each other, they know each others pain and sadness and I think once they got back together they’d settle very easily into a care routine. Both of them are carrying the weight of countless consequences and mistakes and hardship on their shoulders. Pain is just a side affect that comes with carrying so much baggage, but it’s a little easier to manage when they have each other for support. I do think some of it would get easier over time, and my wish for them is that they can move somewhere just outside the city, maybe by a lake. Far enough away that things are quiet, but not so far that they would completely leave the hero gig behind. I agree with the consensus that neither of them could fully quit. Tim would just sink into the background, but Steph would be out there in the field for many years. Justas long as they have somewhere safe and comfortable to return to, I think they’ll both be just fine. Plus smooches are the best fallback medicine for all ailments and we all know that they never run out of those. 😘💋

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK! More than half of this was not anything to do with chronic injuries but fuck it. We’ve tapped into the hurt/comfort section of my brain and there is a lot of material there to work with. Idk when you sent this in but I hope it wasn’t too long ago. I hope this answered more questions than you ever intended to ask. 💜❤

#TimSteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #robin iii #spoiler #robin iv #red robin #batgirl #batfam #batfamily #dc comics #dc #batman #personal #ask tbp

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what-a-messsss · 4 years ago

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2x1 rewatch

My poor Netflix is so confused. I’ll hop on my phone to see if I can find a detail in an ep and then it’ll try to start the show again at halfway through 4x7 or the end of the finale, and I have to figure out what ep I’m actually looking for.

All aboard for “Unquiet Mind.”

Ok, realizing that Jacob and Vic are both ‘play with the radio’ types and Henry and Walt are both ‘or silence’ types is probably a bit funnier to me that it should be. Didn’t really expect to be finding character parallels between those two.

BAAAABY! I totally forgot about the baby buffalo! Eeeeee!

Interesting that the prisoner (whose name I have totally braindumped, whoops) knows that Walt would know about the meaning of the white buffalo to the Cheyenne.

$10 says that doctor agent is a redhead because of Starling. For being 2% of the population, redheads sure do make up a disproportionate part of fictional character real estate. (I say with lots of love for Cady...)

Also, I feel offended on behalf of both the Red Pony and the Busy Bee by the sign Cowboy’s Corner claiming they have the best food in 3 counties. Piffle.

“Progress. Prosperity. People. I’m Branch Connally, and I can alliterate. Vote for the PP People.” Shut uuuuuup. Jacob, I’m blaming you for this. If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have had the money to be annoying us even when he’s hours away. Boooo. (I mean, obviously also blame Barlow, but that’s more of a ‘with a shovel to the face’ kind of blaming, rather than an eyeroll and calling ‘boooo’ at the screen because your fav was a pain.)

Ah ha, title drop. I haven’t really paid that much attention to the episode titles, I’ll be honest. This is the only title drop I can actually remember other than Jacob’s line about “Dogs, horses, and Indians,” although it still bothers me immensely that the episode title doesn’t have the Oxford comma, omGs.

Durrel’s discoloured eye is really good. I’m guessing a scleral contact lens? Just different enough to be noticeable and a little off-putting without drawing too much focus. It keeps the mental discomfort we get from it just around the unconscious level.

That’s right! Ruby is out of town! Min and I decided that she was at a conference in Idaho Falls, since we had already said that her family lives in Texas, and I like the idea of her also doing vocational enrichment training and keeping on the cutting edge of her wheelhouse of policing. She’s a heckin’ boss, and I adore her.

This is the most random thing in the world, but that’s sort of my wheelhouse... Does Katee Sackoff have a scar on the tip of her nose? Because I swear at 9:09-11 it looks like it. Not that it matters, but I’ve never noticed it any other time, and now I’m really curious.

Ope, longer hair Henry in this flashback. With emotions and it’s killing me. I also didn’t think about the fact that the Halfmoon’s were talking to the white police instead of (in addition to?) the tribal police. Though that would have been during Malachi’s reign, since it was 4 years ago. Oof.

Is that a gas fire? Because if that’s one of the lines on fire, isn’t the whole place in serious danger of going up in a massive explosion? There was an explosion like that locally last year and it took out the whole station and killed two people. Please tell me they called in the fire as soon as they saw it when they were pulling up. (Of course they didn’t, who are we kidding. It’s these two.)

So they’ve been driving along with their lights on, pull up maybe 8 feet from the abandoned prison van... explain to me why he turns his headlights off at that point? Anybody waiting to ambush them is going to have their eyes more adjusted to the dark, and these two loose the light and there is already no element of surprise because they pulled right up to the van. Why did you turn the lights off, Walt? I mean, maaaaaaybe the headlights being on would have reflected off of the van windows and make it harder to see inside? But that is not particularly good reasoning, I feel. (Meta guess being that the director/whomever figured that the lights off left them in a colder colour palate and heightened the drama. Which... they’re not wrong. But whyyyyyyy would Walt turn them off, not the director?)

“Come on out and I won’t shoot you!” prisoner McGoober yells, having just tried to take Vic out with a shot to center mass. Ok, sure buddy, we believe you. The laser sight catching the falling snowflakes does look cool.

Good use of an elbow, Walt. I’m not actually sure if it was supposed to be a punch but wasn’t lined up great with the camera, but I’m ruling it an on purpose elbow, because Walt is absolutely a dirty fighter, and an elbow is more likely to lay somebody out if you’re close enough.

Oo, what amazing precautions you’re taking. You actually grabbed a scarf. And my gods, gloves. ...work gloves? Which I know from experience save next to no heat, what the hell, Walt. I just... why hasn’t he closed his fucking coat?? ::screaming:: Staving off hypothermia isn’t emasculating, you KNOB. Well at least the snowbunny actually brought a flashlight. How forward thinking of him. And has zipped up his coat. Lawd.

Ew, I just agreed with Branch. :( How dare the writers make that happen.

And in strolls Agent Pretty von Douche to make everything just that much more annoying. Special Agent in Charge Towson, FBI. Burrpaderrpaderp. Myeh.

Such special, very agent, much in charge, wow. >insert doge meme here, lol<

“Whose in charge in his absence?” Hmmmmmmm. They ended the shot on Vic, and the look on her face is just... prophetic for how I figure she handles being in charge when Walt abruptly decides to fuck off into the wilderness for the Treasure Hunt portion of his Manly Midlife Crisis, before they can have an election. Lol. Womp womp.

Dang, spit strings dangling from your stubble is... uh, a look. >.> Did you know that your nose is one of the first parts of you that tends to get frostbite? And that we know you have a scarf? (Yelling at Walt is my new hobby. It’s not a good hobby, but it is mine.)

HI HENRY. Great, you’re at the hallucinating part of the fieldtrip. Not that I’m complaining, because even your imaginary Henry is more sensible that you will generally let yourself be. (Also, he’s pretty, and I am very shallow.)

Yeeee, one of the only poems that I actually have memorized. Lovely Robert Frost. Though Robert Burns would also be quite apt. And miles to go before I sleep and all.

“The cavalry has arrived.” Henry is so fucking droll. I can just imagine the little kernel of muted glee he has at the irony of using that phrase. I adore him. “We ate,” says von Douche. Honey. Booboo.

Fuck off, von Douche. He’s so In Charge. Burrpaderrpaderp, pthb. “Any request for activities will go through me.” That’s so cute. And Henry’s look would kill you at a thousand paces.

It does annoy me that Vic keeps calling him Walt when talking about him with the fibbies. Like, we get it, you’re real close with your boss, but you might get more traction with them by reinforcing the fact that he’s a fellow law enforcement officer and the head of your department by calling him the Sheriff rather than broadcasting how unprofessional you both are.

Bless Ferg for actually speaking up, though. Branch just falls in line without a peep (though if I remember, he’s plotting his own little insurrection.) And Henry is just quietly in the background, gathering data and being invisible as he decides to be.

“I don’t like your tone.” Well I don’t like you FACE. That’s actually a lie, it’s a very nice face. But you’re just such a douchecanoe.

For all that Branch is a rusty wingnut, he does occasionally have decent observational skills. And he is less emotionally riled, so he sees that Henry is planning something while Vic is too busy fuming. I’m wondering how that lands with Ferg/why he doesn’t notice, and I think he’s still just isn’t very good at thinking out of the box yet. Or seeing stuff that’s out of the box. He definitely gets better about it as time goes on, but it’s an interesting thing to think about as far as his character development. He’s focused on what he can think of to help, and isn’t expanding that to see thinking about what others might be able to do to help, which Branch does, but Vic doesn’t.

The gunshots in the cabin and the lever action rifle and all are taking me straight to the beginning of Red Dead2. Sadie, is that you? Nope, it’s Omar, aaaaahahaha, I forgot he was in this.

I love that Henry keeps his saddle at home/the bar. I don’t know why I’m surprised, though. Maybe figured that he’d keep it where the horses are stabled, I guess. But I can imagine him keeping it close in case, and cleaning the tack and oiling the saddle as a way to unwind after a hard day or something.

Heeeeehehehe, the look on Henry’s face when he leans in to Branch and goes, “...supporting the FBI.” Such a beautiful way of expressing how very little he thinks of Branch without ever having to say it. “Right now, I am the sheriff.” You are so deeply obnoxious. And do not play nice with others.

And here’s Walt with his circumstantial evidence, laying out his assumptions, and being right, which is all good and such now, but he is so in the habit of doing this shit and being right that he cannot accept when he isn’t right about things.

Well at least Omar has his place stocked for the weather. I know I fall farther on the ‘over prepare’ end of the spectrum, but Walt not having better gloves in his truck in the dead of winter makes me roll my eyes so dang hard.

This hallucination of Fales is a fascinating bit of character study both for Walt and for Fales. Walt’s subconscious effectively calling him out for his suicidal tendencies with not there Fales asking him, “Are you looking to get yourself killed?” is more honesty than it seems like Walt tends to allow himself.

ASAC Hall is actually better at dealing with people like a human, but von Douche isn’t actually wrong. Vic is understandably pissed by the withheld information, but she does stomp around like a bull in a china shop and pretty much never stops to think. Maybe they all would have gotten farther if von Douche or Hall had asked the night before if the locals had other options, but unlikely.

I FORGOT SHE PUNCHED HIM. The look on Hall’s face was priceless.

Eeeeeee, I do love that Walt left a trail, knowing that Henry would be coming after him. Branch’s comments to Henry show that while he can observe people and sometime predict how they’re going to act, he can’t really understand why they’re doing it, if it’s beyond his own lens of experiences (which are pretty fucked up). Whether it’s cynicism or just stunted empathy, conceiving of someone’s motivations being selflessly altruistic are just beyond his ken. That’s pretty sad, honestly, and makes me hate Barlow even more. Everything in Branch’s life has been transactional, calculated.

Oh, and now he pulls something up over his mouth. Ok. Great, into the water.

I fucking love Ferg. His gleeful awe over Vic hitting Towson literally made me press my hands to my face, giggling. And he’s such a good friend. And she’s such a pill. I get that she’s feeling guilty and hurting, but it takes no effort not to take it out on Ferg. How easy would it have been to say, “Somebody has to keep working on finding them. Go back inside, Ferg,” instead of “You have to get out of here,” and just running him off like a jerk.

Cady having cut off contact with Walt gives me life. AND THEN his shitty self-protecting LYING brain comforts him by having her say, “You were only trying to protect me, Dad, I get that,” because that’s what he keeps telling himself to excuse taking her agency away and lying to her for at least a year, and continuing to manipulate her! GAAAAAH! “I can’t lose you...” THEN CHECK YOUR DAMN SELF, DISASTER BOI.

I’m not sure if hallucination!Theo telling him that there was nothing he could do is a sign of a healthy recognition of that, or the same kind of lying to himself because it’s what he wants to hear that he’s done with Cady? The “...but I knew someone was coming to help me,” rather smacks of the latter, since earlier in the ep Walt says that that’s what he would want to know if he were held hostage.

I have decided (with my shippy goggles firmly in place, if not molecularly fused to my face) that him doubting that Henry is coming to help him is what makes him realize that he’s getting hypothermia. Because the idea that Henry wouldn’t be coming to get him is so utterly ridiculous that clearly his brain is on the fritz.

The fact that the phone works after his dunking is also a minor miracle. I know I said earlier that Walt is a dirty fighter, but oof, he’s the one who just took a dick shot. I mean, that’s one way to use a cell phone.

Again, not super sure what it says about Walt for him to imagine Theo watch him in the process of killing Durrel. Poor Henry. That whole mess would have been incredibly stressful. Your jackass boyfriend is way high maintenance in rather spectacular ways.

#Longmire #episode commentary #spoilers #spoilers for the whole show probably

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ragnarachael · 4 years ago

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No Plan

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2,129

Summary: You treated yourself to a week long getaway to a lodge up in the mountains and run into one of the handsome caretakers that work around on the property.

Author’s Ramblings: it’s so weird crossposting my hiddleston content here, but why not give it a shot? this is a thing i started when i took my trip to Georgia after my birthday! originally, i was gonna make this a lot shorter, but i wouldn’t shut the hell up SO HERE WE ARE. also, i tried to find a gif that looked how i described tom’s look in this, but i got tired of searching and settled on this so it’s fine we’re fine this is fine

MASTERLIST ! FEEDBACK ! AO3 LINK !

The mountains were breathtaking. The views were almost as if you’d been sleeping and had a realistic dream that would shake you to your very core once you were back to reality.

But no. You were here. This was real. You were losing your mind at just how beautiful a place could be.

You had decided on staying up in some cabins in the mountains for a week as a gift to yourself for working hard. And god, they did not disappoint.

The line of trees you could see as you drive yourself around some of the trails on the small golf cart you had rented rendered you speechless. You even spotted a small stable with the place that had a sign advertising that you could rent a horse for an hour.

You never wanted to leave. Ever.

When you were younger, you always hated the outdoors. It was weird, now that you’re looking back on it as you took your time getting out of your golf cart to take the short walk up the path that led to your cabin. The dirt, the more often than not sticky heat as you tried to do some cliché activity. It just rubbed you the wrong way.

Then, you realized, maybe it was just the people.

You hummed to yourself as you tossed the keys between your hands, momentarily eyeing the extra cart near the trail you were walking on that branched off onto another small clearing. It was a worker at the lodge, you assumed by his current situation.

He was building. What exactly, you don’t know. You didn’t mind watching him as he tried pushing some pieces together. His bicep flexed slightly from the tension, which make his forearm tense up considerably.

So maybe there was more to the mountains than the views of the trees and other things the Earth had created.

You didn’t catch the man again until the next day you went to the stables and he was tending horses.

You were just passing by the stables, really. Just to get to the small restaurant up at the office area of the lodge, since you weren’t feeling up to cooking breakfast that morning.

But there he was. Standing tall, oozing confidence with his auburn curls looking slightly on the red side thanks to the morning sunlight. He was wearing casual clothing. Tight jeans, tucked into some kind of boot that was most likely steel toed, dark blue long sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. Maybe it was a Henley? You couldn’t be too sure, you didn’t want to be caught staring.

“Good mornin’.” The deep voice shocked you. You didn’t suspect it to be that deep. It also sounded... British, possibly? You didn’t notice since you were still reeling on how deep and gravely his voice sounded.

It was kicking your stomach up with emotions.

“Morning,” you replied easily with a kind smile and a short nod of the head. Was it possible to have some kind of country twang mixed with a British accent?

He returned the smile before you carried on heading up the dirt path that led to your destination and he carried on cooing to one of the horses he was tending to.

After conversing with Suzanne, the lovely waitress you had at breakfast, you learned his name was Tom. Extremely fitting. He moved from England as it turned out, offering his uncle some help around the place with renovations and such.

According to Suzanne, Tom was a good, hardworking man who didn’t know when to take a break. Always tending to everything, stubborn as a mule. Needed to settle down with a good, kind-hearted soul who knew how to properly feed the poor thing - Suzanne was very hung up on how thin Tom looked, you learned, even if he had the muscle to prove otherwise. You chalked it up to be from her southern roots.

“You would love ‘im!” Suzanne exclaimed as she filled your cup in the empty dining area. “Handsome, educated. My girls upstate wouldn’t believe there’s any like him left!”

“Really?” you mused gently, looking out the window that gave a slanted view of the stables where Tom worked.

Suzanne was quick to voice her agreement before changing the subject completely on you to talk about one of her grandbabies.

After breakfast it was your mission to talk with the man.

You watched him take care of the horses, flex in his top far too much to be considered healthy, run his large hands through the short locks of hair on his head, and even mount a horse to ride.

It was dangerous to even consider getting to know him or even be in the same room as him, you’re aware, but you had to know more than what Suzanne was telling you through her connections.

And you didn’t need her meddling with your chance at a relationship. It felt like the equivalent of your mother forcing you and a cute boy together in a room with a wink and an exclamation of “oh! I forgot I had to do something in the kitchen! You two have fun!”.

“That’s oddly specific,” you muttered to yourself as you left the restaurant after paying and generously tipping Suzanne, holding a hand up to shield the sunlight from your eyes as you started back down the small steps you had to climb.

Tom was out of sight with one of the spotted horses, and you had decided to try and figure out some topics you could talk with him about. The next time you ran into him, you didn’t want to be too.. awkward. If you ended up saying something weird you’d have to endure the uncomfortable, tight-lipped smiles whenever you walked past him until you left at the end of the week.

You didn’t want that. At all.

Thankfully, your shot came later in the afternoon, right around dusk. On an impulsive decision, you decided to head to the small gazebo where the weddings were held. They had cute lights set up last you looked and it really was a nice spot to relax and look at the stars.

The walk was nice and cool. Not too hot after a certain point, which pleased you to no end. You didn’t regret wearing the shorts you had on, and you didn’t hate yourself for pulling on the long sleeve you really wanted to wear. The perfect balance of hot and cold.

Tom looked to be painting the railings when you got there with your small backpack on your back. You wanted to stop him as he continued long, detailed brush strokes on the nice pale wood.

“I think the gazebo looks just fine without whatever you’re doing,” you started casually as you landed on the first step. Hopefully that was a good starting point, you thought.

Tom stopped mid-dunk of his brush to look your way with a face of confusion before smiling at you.

“I’m afraid I agree,” he replied casually, officially deciding to abandon his work in favor of standing up and stepping back into the middle of the wood floor to cross his arms against his chest. “However, our next wedding party insists we stain it.”

You made a strangled noise in the back of your throat at his reply, finally stepping onto the main platform of the gazebo. You shoved your hands into your pockets gently.

“Is that even allowed?”

“Technically? No. But they threw in extra money, and Lance couldn’t turn them down then.”

You hummed sadly, nodding as if you knew exactly what he was talking about. You let your eyes trail over the decent stain job so far when you felt his eyes on you.

“I’m Tom, by the way.” His cleaner looking hand was held out for you to shake.

Happily, you turned and took a hand out of your pocket to grasp it while giving your name back kindly.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tom replied with a grin, taking his hand back before moving to quickly turn the small lights hooked under the roofing on.

You had no choice but to assume it was the caretaker in him.

“So,” he started. “What brings you this way?”

“Besides the gazebo?” You fired back teasingly. “I wanted to see the lights and maybe get some reading in.”

“This is a good spot to do it,” Tom confirmed as one of his large hands rubbed under his chin. “I recommend the small clearing near your cabin, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yes. When the skies are clear at night?” Tom let out a dreamy sounding sigh with a smile, holding a thumbs up with a nod. “It’s beautiful.”

“Surely not as beautiful as the other views I’ve seen here,” you replied, smiling kindly before moving to the railing Tom had been working on. You were sure to keep a bit of a distance.

“You said a wedding party wanted the railing stained?”

“Mhm.” You could hear Tom’s footsteps behind you as you heard some things shifting around. You could only assume he was trying to clear up the space near the railing.

“When are they arriving?”

Tom stopped moving things around and tilted his head as his hand moved to itch the back of his neck. He stayed silent to think for a moment.

“Uh,” he started, eyes trailing up to the roof which caused his lips to part as he let out a low groan of thought. “October.”

Your eyes widened slightly, causing you to turn around abruptly to look at him. “That’s close.”

“Exactly why the railing needs to be done.”

You let out a soft hum, finally moving closer to the railing as you started to look out at the landscape of trees. Absentmindedly, you leaned closer to the wood Tom had just stopped working on as if you’d get a closer look at the landscape.

Tom eyed you curiously as he bent down to finish moving some of his equipment. He noticed you looked like you were about to slam your hands against the fresh staining.

“I’d be careful if I were you. It’s still—“

The words flying out of his mouth were far too late by the time your hands landed on the freshly stained railing. You didn’t hesitate to let your face pull into a grimace, barely glancing down at your newly painted hands.

“—wet..”

You took a slow breath in through your nose before breathing out your reply: “shit.”

“Shit indeed,” Tom quipped with a chuckle, standing up from his position to stand next to you while you pulled your hands off.

“Is this like... toxic or whatever?”

“Not really. Unless the effects come later,” he replied, gesturing to his bare forearms that had streaks of dark brown on his pale skin that mixed in with the freckles that dotted up and down his arms.

You nodded and let out a huff regardless, staring at your semi-damp hand to compare it to his arm.

“I recommend olive oil,” Tom said as he moved to carefully grasp your wrist to see the damage.

His hands were rough thanks to the callouses he’s gained from working, but were gentle holding your wrist overall. It was, to be honest, a little distracting.

“For what?”

“The staining.” He held your hand up with a smile. “Food-grade oil in a small tray and soaking for a few minutes does wonders before you scrub it all off.”

You scrunched your nose up. “You do this a lot?”

“You’d be surprised,” Tom teased, the edge of his lips quirking into a bit of a smirk as he let out a breathy chuckle.

You couldn’t help but follow suit, letting out a soft laugh. “I’m sure I would.”

The silence between you two was comfortable. A little awkward, but comfortable overall. Your wrist was still in Tom’s grasp and you didn’t look forward to when he would let go.

“I.. Uh, I think I’ll leave you with your staining,” you spoke suddenly, not at all moving to let his hand fall from your wrist. “I can just go to the clearing—”

"Stay,” Tom said suddenly, cutting off your sudden babbling before you even got started. “Please. I’d love the company.”

You let your eyes trail up his arm to meet his eyes, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“Are you sure? I can easily make the walk back, it’s no trouble—”

Tom said your name gently, trying to hold back a laugh. “Yes. Stay. I would like to get to know you a bit more, if that’s alright.”

Your confusion went away quickly, your face contorting into a wide smile before your head nodded a little too fast to be appropriate.

“That’s certainly alright with me, Tom.”

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston au #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston drabble #tom hiddleston #rachael writes

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rureikia · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1

[Previous] [Contents] [Next]

"Why me?"

"Because you're single and you're my life long best friend! Friends have each other's back, no?"

I stared at Sumiko and instantly shook my head to reject the idea, "Then I don't want my back anymore. I don't want to go."

"Ah (Y/N) please." She clasps her hands in a prayer pose.

A long, tired sigh escapes from my mouth, but she stays stubborn and chooses not to listen to my aspect of the situation, "Uwaaaah, Sumiko what do you not get? I do not go to those sort of events. Who do you think I am?"

Even after I had given her the belated answer she didn't like, Sumiko decided to lean on my work desk further and pulled a rare puppy-dog expression.

She's not actually like this, trust me. Sumiko is much more mature than me, but today she's extremely persistent in acting like a crazy aunt because of this silly little blind date thing.

"You're a bland person (Y/N), that's what I think. And you're literally only going as a substitute so you don't have to uh - date anyone," she explains, "Tag along, you might even enjoy yourself for once. You never have fun anymore, and it'll be like the old times!"

Her hopeful smile doesn't affect me, rather made my eyebrow twitch. Thus, I returned back to my computer screen and continued typing up work as a way to defocus my mind off her, "I don't know what you mean. Of course I have fun, I just don't really like blind dates."

"Goukon is fun though! And you're single."

Right, she doesn't need to mention that I'm single over and over again like that...

"Aha, but you said that I don't need to date anyone." I contemptuously reminded her.

Her expression changes from my words, "Oh, whoops... Yeah whatever! Well, the point is that our other girl can't make it, and we can't have one guy hanging 'cuz it'll be really awkward being the only partner-less one."

"Mm, I see."

"You know what? If you join, I'll even pay for all the stuff you order in the restaurant we're meeting at."

Oh actually, that's something I love to hear on an overworked Friday... Especially since I'm a person that will never be made out of money and buy luxuries.

This statement was the only part that caught my attention fully. Because it's free stuff. That particular free stuff being my hearty dinner for tonight.

I raised a brow as a sign of piqued interest, "Everything...? Are you sure? Really?"

"That includes drinks, yes..." Sumiko looks at me with a proud face, "Absolutely everything."

Smiling curiously I was beginning to consider accepting the offer, "Is there anything else?"

"What do you want?" She says.

For a second, I put a finger to my chin and looked up at the ceiling to hum a heavy brainstorm teasingly.

There was this one idea I had which was going to turn this into a sort of win-win situation for my remaining hours left here. And so I chuckled at Sumiko in this suspicious style whilst her smile instantly wiped off her face - a pensive expression replaced that smile.

Even when watching her quick shift of emotions, I kept beaming as my mind made the decision.

"Here." I said.

I had grabbed the four large piles of documents that were all 5cm thick.

Earlier, it was idly lying next to my computer, waiting for me to start on it. And now, I placed it in front of Sumiko, where she then gawked at me.

You know what made it better? That loud flop sound it made after being dropped.

"W-What?" She gasped.

"Haha, you can do my work."

With my clenched fist raised in front of my face, I furrow my brows in determination. She on the other hand glared at me with threatening intent.

"Thank you very much!" I said, "I'm very excited for this event now Amaya Sumiko! But take your time, do your best!"

"Why (Y/N) -!! You little rascal, you're taking advantage of this aren't you?!" She exhales heavily in disbelief through her mouth.

My chin moves to rest elegantly over on my two intertwined hands that were put up on the desk, "So, when is it? Tell me more, I'm so very excited for this. Is it after work? Seven? Eight? Or are we going wild and starting at nine? Which restaurant is it? "

"God. You're never funny when you do this." She pretends to throw the documents in my face, I however pretended to act scared by shielding myself with my arms. Afterwards, Sumiko continues, "I won't be the one picking the restaurant, but this other guy is gonna do it and he'll text us the location probably an hour before it starts at eight."

"Oh so in three hours to get work done?" I ask.

"...Yeah. I guess."

"Then you better get all that work done or else you'll be working overtime instead of going on dates haha."

She scowls at me and I grin with my teeth showing.

I soon observed her storm off to the opposite side of the office where her own work station was whilst I was still jokingly beaming behind her.

...

I went back to thinking of what could happen with me and the others over in that meetup. I think it won't go awfully too perfect for me, not that meaning I will be pessimistic about it. Ah I'll say it a bit clearer - what I mean is that I won't really be interested in finding someone there since I prefer to meet someone by chance and not choice.

Haha, to be honest... I haven't dated for a while or done anything like this. Well I haven't been in a stable relationship in general for a while. So I'm now kind of nervous...

I've been on a couple dates here and there but never actually got myself a significant other ever since my first real relationship. And it made me a little teary-eyed as I thought my first real boyfriend was probably also my... (sniffs)... Final...

I'd grow into an elderly person and not understand the concept of romantic love anymore as I haven't experienced it in absolute decades by then. Ultimately, I will live life as a lonely senior with dozens of pets to keep me company instead.

If you put yourself in a positive mindset, it sounded quite nice, living with animals until death. But I do not carry that positive mindset so it ended up not sounding very nice.

I did want to find someone before my parents send pictures of potential partners for me to meet and greet... In fact, they've already started - and no matter how many times I tell mom that I'm not interested at the moment, she persists.

Mom wants me to find someone, get married, live in a better house, be financially stable and add new children to the family tree one day, all that whatnot!

Of course, I know she's just worried about my future, but how am I supposed to find love if I basically forgot how it feels?

In addition, there was also this. My lack of feeling for romance is often what makes all the dates I've been on every blue moon, only be a date. Only one date, never another one again. I just can't seem to identify a sort of love with other people, and it makes me afraid about my future.

I guess another factor for my lack of dating experience may be due to my specifically high-level standards I have raised. Because ever since three years ago, I now tend to struggle to find a suitable partner that would make me feel as much emotions as my last one did.

After all, I can't lie to myself that me dating my ex-boyfriend was something I think during some of my nights, not that I wish to reunite of course. But I think about how it's a little strange that he's the one of the only people I'm not related to I've known for a large portion of my life and also the one I strived for more than my current career.

The most important thing to me is my job. But back then, the most important thing to me was him.

From the beginning of middle school, I've known him and I proceeded to get to know him at high school too. So in a way, we were childhood friends, right?

We lived in the same neighbourhood , him actually living right opposite me - we went to the exact same schools too, middle, high school and college. It was like we were meant to be or something haha!

Well... His name was Kita Shinsuke.

He's definitely the I'm-so-perfect-and-good-looking-but-don't-know-it kind of guy, if you get what I mean.

Kita was respected by so many people. He's responsible, always got excellent top tier grades, talks very polite Japanese, always was the teacher's favorite, was even captain of our high school's volleyball team and mentioning it once more, he was quite good looking too. For a bit, I kept having this stigma that his existence was simply unfair and unbelievable... He can do practically anything and wouldn't react that much as if he's some kind of snobby prince. But soon, when I observed him more, everything was done unintentionally and he was simply like that.

...

Often in stories, dramas or anything similar, two kids that live closeby, or have known each other since young are portrayed as something incredibly sweet. Most commonly called this concept of childhood sweethearts.

Two kids would routinely go to and from school together, possibly holding hands, picking sticks that look like magical wands from the ground, buying ice pops in the summer, blowing bubbles, they'd get told off by the elders, constantly spark up trouble together and they'd pet the stray cats etcetera, etcetera. These two would enjoy each other's presence obliviously not knowing what would develop in the future. Because once those kids grow up, only then would they realize what they share is a friendship that has actually been blooming into love.

I guess that's my summary of one of the examples of childhood sweethearts, but I have yet another one to mention!

Two kids in a love-hate scenario this time, to which I think is a little more complicated.

In this case, one party doesn't like the other at first. However, the other party would take somewhat interest whilst still not liking them too. So throughout time, these two will glare and click their tongues in irritation, not even batting an eye of respect at one another. And so their initial relationship therefore being rigid and competitive - but likewise, once they grow up and become more mature, they come to realize they're used to each other's presence so much that it's odd to not live without it! Suddenly they're like, (gasp) Oh!! It must be true love!!

Maybe if fate had given me a childhood sweetheart like that, I could walk around with hearts in my eyes like what you'd see in television shows.

But me and Kita weren't really like either of those.

We really and truly were just two separate lives that lived coincidentally close.

At my younger age, I'd be at home reading manga, watching Doraemon and singing the opening song for Cutie Honey Flash, as Kita would be doing all his homework, playing sports and helping around his house.

It was definitely during middle school. That's when I started to notice Kita a bit more. I mean to be fair, he went to the same school as me, we left at the same time and we also lived in the same area, who on earth wouldn't notice? And at some point, we were put in the same classes miraculously too.

He was for sure a very good boy. Always completed work to his full potential with that annoying photographic memory of his, often did lunchtime duties and was consistently showered compliments by the teachers! Gah! Wasn't fair!

He sat next to me in year 2 middle school which was probably the year I began liking him even more. Because I would turn my head and just see him and then my whole peripheral vision was also still just, him.

Kita and me never bickered at that time slot nor did we talk too much - come to think of it, I think it's either because I was too scared or because of his introvertedly noiseless attitude. Well, more or less I disliked arguing so I thought if I ever argued with a boy like Kita, it would end in the worst.

There was actually this one memorable time, still set in 2nd year middle school, where me and Kita were the ones chosen by the teacher to hand out the numbered vests for P.E. as everyone was going to join in for soccer. There were around 45 vests in total, Kita handed out a pathetic number of 6, then left to go play ball as the other boys asked him, subsequently leaving me behind to do the rest...

I was therefore running around angrily, trying to hand out all the remaining vests for everyone.

Funnily, the less vests I gradually had, the more I got angry since it reminded me how the one that handed the majority of these, were all me.

It was only when I finished handing them out and the teachers told us to find a partner to stretch with, I bumped into Kita again purely by accident.

Looking at him made me mad. At that second, I wish I had scolded or ranted to him or even thrown my numbered vest to his face to the very least, but we partnered up automatically and I had no time or build-up of confidence to do any of that. Instead, I just copied how he was stretching with a scornful face.

He was stretching with complete concentration adding onto this air of tranquility as if he forgot what he just did, and I was weakly doing the same whilst trying to keep my petty thoughts in check.

By the time I twisted my torso to do a different stretch, I glanced at Kita where he was doing a stretch with the opposite arm. And I stood there, watching him, with a slightly open-mouthed expression, similar to a fish.

I was baffled how he was wearing the same tattered and ugly green vest as everyone else in class and how he was wearing just our school's plain P.E clothes - yet somehow, the wind gently brushed his hair, the sunlight made his dark eyes brighter and I saw how he was noiselessly mouthing numbers to himself to count his seconds of stretching.

Similar to a movie, time stopped. Everything turned slo-mo and my heart had a strong twinge at the sight of him.

It was right then, that was the promising moment I fell for Kita.

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essayer · 4 years ago

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wordplay

i’ve been reading a lot, lately. i’m talking multiple books in the span of just a few weeks, which is the most i’ve read during the past year. i think it’s funny (not in the ha-ha way) that it took a pandemic and a lot of time spent indoors for me to rekindle the childlike wonder i hold for the written word, for the way that i can walk into and imagine entire worlds shaped by the ink of authors who have already done the same thing during the process of their writing.

reading is an inherently reflective exercise for me, as i’m the kind of person who’s always thinking about how a piece of writing reverberates with my state of being and state of mind and about my relationship to the text. reading is also a strongly nostalgic activity for me, as the period of time during which i spent proportionally the most time reading was when i was much younger.

today, i went on a walk, a daily practice for me after coming back to my mother’s home. it has been raining on and off for the past couple days, but the sun came out today and the woods held the memory of rain, small patches of moisture dotting the paths and the smell of earthy musk permeating the air. i was doing that thing where i was thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, and i think the nostalgia i've been nursing while reading so much caused me to remember another smell, similar but very different -- i remembered my father’s old work gloves, the ones i don whenever i (very, very occasionally now) go into my mother’s backyard to do something or other in the soil. they hold the smell of dried earth and evaporated sweat, and i love them because they remind me of warmth and sunshine, of my father and his connection to the earth. they remind me of the garden my parents dug and tended back in florida, full of trailing vines and budding vegetables, seeded from packets they had brought back from china. the new owners of that house tore the garden down and replaced it with a swimming pool.

generally, i’ve been spending a lot of time inside my head these days. i attribute this primarily to living with my mother -- i flew back to spend what was supposed to be my spring break with my brother, who was returning to my mother’s house after getting kicked off his college campus, and then shelter-in-place started, and i’ve been here for more than a month now. being in this space is at once wonderful and terrible. it is wonderful because i haven’t been in portland during springtime in many years, and i forgot how truly awe-inspiring (and nose-itching) it is to see the flowers in all their glory in the northwest. i’ve spent too much time in california this past year, it seems, and i didn’t know until now that my soul was thirsting for the lush grass and vibrant blooms that are so common in portland. it is terrible because my mother’s house, as well as close proximity to my mother, made extreme by the restrictions of shelter-in-place, dredges up a lot of conflict and anger and memory that i had assumed were past me. but of course trauma never works that way, and trauma edges itself into words laced too tight, into hands raised high, into clenched teeth and averted gazes.

so all of this is causing me to spent a lot of time inside my head, and some of it is good, and some of it is bad, and some of it just is.

all this time without physical contact with my community and my chosen family have also forced me to rethink intimacy. who do i spend time with, and how do i spend time with them? how do all these things change without being able to hold people in my arms? i miss tender touches and the way being with people in person lets you see them smile with their eyes. i miss liquid courage and the way my friends can make me feel like i’m invincible. i miss loving love and feeling free(r). i am alone and steadily becoming lonely. i miss sex and touching people!

the past few weeks have also forced me to really look privilege in the eye; this is the first time i’ve written a long-form piece since i started medical school, and i know deep down that it’s because i’ve been afraid of what a thoughtful level of scrutiny would turn up. even before i started medical school i knew that stanford is very much a similar kind of beast that duke was -- an institution aligned with empire and with its power -- but i’ve been avoiding the work that i needed to do in really examining my relationship to empire and the consequences of my decision to attend this institution. this has been especially relevant during the past few weeks as i’ve watched the structures of power around the world and in the united states (or what it is really is: unceded Native land) crumble while also struggle desperately try to prop themselves up. i’m watching as capitalism implodes upon itself and people scramble to take care of themselves and their loved ones, and i’m also watching as it reimagines itself by using the bodies of the most oppressed among us as collateral damage.

i’ve been thinking about how stanford in general, and the stanford hospital system in particular, align with these observations. there is irony that is not lost on me. i notice that my privilege as a medical student compounds with my access to a (mostly) stable shelter-in-place location as well as my guarantee of world-class care should i fall sick to assure me that I’ll probably come out of this alive and not too worse for wear, all in contrast with how there are groups of people that are systematically excluded from medical care at stanford, and how these groups have been disproportionately affected by covid-19, and how the reason why they are disproportionately affected in the first place is because of the structures of power that refuse to let go.

and, of course, i have to return to my positionality as a medical student. i’ve been thinking a lot about how i mostly knew what i was getting into when i accepted the offer of admission at a place like this -- that is, how i knew that i was outwardly aligning myself with an empire-imbued institution, built from and continuing to profit off of the systemic exploitation and exclusion of the bodies least valued by the empire. i’ve been thinking a lot about how i went into all of this with the idea that i could utilize my positionality to make change in a system that resists any sort of revolutionary instinct... but at the same time, isn’t this the same sort of rhetoric that i roll my eyes at when, say, folks who go into finance say that they’ll “change the system from the inside?” i am wondering how the way the empire forces my hand in choosing survival within the system will influence me as i continue. i am wondering how much more/less/the same change i could meaningfully make if i declined the offer of admission and my spot in the class went to someone who is anti-abortion and believes in a gender binary, among other things (and i know of people at the medical school who believe these things!).

#this was dated april 26 but i never posted it (just to document the actual date)#prose

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alphawitchnyxx · 5 years ago

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We Meet Again

A/N: So, this is my first Witcher fic ever. It is kind of a Part 2 to this fic by the lovely @witchernonsense, who was very kind and gave me their permission to write & post this. You’ll want to read that fic first so you understand the relationship between the OC, Nyxx, and Geralt in this story. I used the Netflix series’ official map guide for the locations I mention, if you want to know where this story is taking place.

Summary: It’s been years since Nyxx has seen the Witcher from the woods. He’s a distant memory that she’s moved past. At least, she thought she had until the day when the White Wolf came knocking on her door.

Characters: Geralt, OC, Jaskier (he’s there but has no real part in any of this)

Pairings: Geralt x OC

Word Count: 2,712

Warnings: Blood, smut, femdom, orgasm denial (male), multiple orgasms, teasing, begging, deep emotional conversations, some slight ooc!Geralt, happy endings for everyone.

____________________________________________________________

It had been 13 years since Nyxx had encountered the White Wolf in the woods, poisoned and bleeding out. She saved his life and in return used his body as if he was a whore she had rented for the evening. Most of the finer details of that night had since faded from her memory, but the sex she had that night had been the best of her life, and she had been alive for decades.

After that night, Nyxx decided to try to settle down rather than roam the continent, lest she find herself face to face with Geralt of Rivia again. She spent a few years living in Lyria, making a living caring for the Lord that lived there. After the Lord was killed in a duel, she left her little hut outside of the city and headed north, choosing to settle in a small village in the foothills of the Blue Mountains just to the north of Ard Carraigh. The village wasn’t much, about 30 houses and farms, an inn, a fairly large stable building, and a few shops. The villagers paid her generously for her work. Her reputation as a powerful mage and just as powerful healer had preceded her to the village and the villagers were more than willing to pay her to stay with them, as she was just as equipped to treat a broken limb as she was to aid with magical needs. Settling down meant that she could earn the trust of the villagers she lived amongst, as some of them were still wary of her and her power.

She spent most of her days in her home that was nestled at the edge of their town right against the mountains. Due to their location, they didn’t get many travellers except for those coming into the kingdom from Yspaden or Blaviken, and even they didn’t hang around long, so most of her days were spent in her hut alone, tending to her garden or brewing new potions and elixirs. It wasn’t as exciting as being a court mage or a healer in a large city like Cintra or Cidaris, but it was comfortable. It was quiet, peaceful, and above all, it was what she wanted.

She was out in her small stable, tending to her new horse that she purchased after her beloved gelding Captain passed away. This new horse was a gorgeous blue roan stallion named Briond that had been well broke and was surprisingly calm under her hand, unlike the cantankerous gelding who preceded him. She was refilling his water well when he started snorting and pawing the ground, ears flicking back. Something was outside and it was agitating him. She placed a reassuring hand on his neck before unsheathing the small dagger she carried on her hip. Her left hand glowed green with magic, ready to be unleashed. She crept around the wall of the stable and froze when she nearly ran into the one person she never thought she’d ever see again.

“And here I thought I’d never see you again, Geralt of Rivia,” Nyxx said coyly, resheathing her dagger and calming her magic.

“Please help my friend,” came the witcher’s gravelly voice, worry laced into the syllables. He motioned towards a smaller man who was slumped against her stoop, hands pressed against a large gash in his side. Nyxx looked deep into his amber eyes, searching for any sign that he was trying to deceive her.

“Come in,” she said, motioning towards the door. She rushed in ahead of him, clearing off her table. “Remove his shirt and lay him here, then get out of my way” she said, fluttering about her kitchen, pulling medical supplies and bottles off the shelves and laying them out.

Geralt did as he was told. “His name is Jaskier.”

Nyx nodded, holding a bottle up to the light. “Go stable your horse and bathe, I will work on your friend,” she said to Geralt before turning to the bard. “Jaskier? My name is Nyxx, I will heal you. It may sting, but I can assure you that you will survive.” She looked back up at Geralt. “Go,” she ordered before starting her work.

Geralt left the small room, heading out to tend to Roach. He could hear Jaskier’s cries and whimpers from the stables and he sighs before placing Roach into the stable next to Briond, who moved over to sniff at her over the stall. Roach huffed at him before turning away to eat. Geralt chuckled to himself, of course Nyxx’s horse would try to flirt with Roach. He made sure Roach was settled before he began pacing outside the small hut. He paced for what felt like hours, but may have only been minutes, he wasn’t sure. After an eternity, Nyxx emerged, blood staining her pale blue dress and her hands, motioning him inside. “He’s resting now,” she said, her soft voice laced with relief. “He barely made it.”

Geralt took in the sight before him. The table and floors were coated with blood, empty bottles were strewn about and there was a bitter scent to the air. “Thank you for saving him,” he said, voice quiet.

“How did you find me here, witcher?” Nyxx hissed as she went about cleaning up. “I’ve taken great care to stay hidden since leaving Lyria.”

“We were headed up to Kaer Morhen in search of information there that may help me with...something. We were just south of here when Jaskier got jumped by bandits while I was gathering firewood. I rushed him into town asking for the healer. They pointed me here. I didn’t know it was you, mage, that they were sending me to,” he spat, the word bitter on his tongue. “If there was someone else that I could’ve taken him to, I would have, believe me.”

Nyxx turned, placing a hand on his chest. “What’s wrong, was our last meeting not...satisfying enough for you?” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and Geralt could feel his blood rushing south.

“Oh, it was plenty satisfying,” he said, grabbing her wrist and pressing his lips to her palm. “Now, it seems like once again you’ve helped me at a time when I seem to be a bit short of coin to repay you with,” he said, his other hand reaching around to grasp at her waist.

“I do believe we can arrange something, Geralt of Rivia,” Nyxx purred, her hand grasping at his hardening cock. She laughed when he moaned softly, her fingers loosening the laces at the front of his pants. “Come, Geralt, you owe me payment.” She pulled away and sauntered towards her bedroom, untying her dress as she went.

Geralt followed her, slamming the door of her bedroom shut and fastening the latch. He turned to where Nyxx was already laying naked on the bed, her tanned skin shining in the sunlight streaming through the window. He quickly stripped down, his fully-erect member already leaking. “I forgot how gorgeous you are,” he said, reaching out to grab her.

“Ah-ah Geralt. I’m in charge around here, remember?” She stood, raising her hand and conjuring up some thick ropes that wound around Geralt’s wrists and ankles, binding him to the bed. “Now, be a good witcher and don’t break my bed frame,” she said, her teeth grazing his ear. She watched as he flexed against the bindings, groaning when they refused to yield.

“Why must you do this to me?” he asked, eyes following her as she dug through a drawer for something.

“Because you have the stamina to actually satiate me and I want to make sure I get my coins’ worth out of you and your massive cock,” she said, holding up a small vial with liquid as blue as the sky swirling inside. “Drink this.”

Geralt cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It’s a stamina booster. Specifically, it’s an aphrodisiac. It’ll keep you going until I’m done with you,” she said with a smirk, popping the cork out of the vial and placing it at Geralt’s lips. “Drink.”

Geralt sighed before opening his mouth and allowing the sweet liquid to slide down his throat. Almost instantly, he felt his body grow warm and his penis throb and bounce against his torso. “Fuck,” he growled, hips shifting on the bed as he searched for contact.

“You’re mine now,” Nyxx said, running her nails gently along Geralt’s monstrous length, giggling as it throbbed and leaked under her hand. She gripped him tight and stroked him fast, unrelenting as he came over her hand. She could feel him throb in her grasp, eager for more.

“Fu...fuck Nyxx. I want...I need...more,” Geralt keened, his muscles straining against the ropes.

“Tsk tsk, Geralt, have you forgotten your manners already? Looks like you need to be taught again.” She quickly straddled his hips, grinding her dripping pussy against him, the sensitive tip of his cock rubbing against her clit. She pressed herself down against his hips, both of them moaning at the contact. Geralt tried to rut against her and she promptly lifted off of him, her fingers moving to stimulate her clit as her orgasm washed over her, her juices washing onto his chest. “Oh fuck,” she breathed out. Below her Geralt whined and pulled at the binds.

“Nyxx….please….I beg of you...please.”

“There’s that magic word,” Nyxx said with a grin, wasting no time in sinking down on him, his massive member filling her to the brim. She began bouncing in his lap, her hips rutting against his, the sharp definition of his hip bones applying just enough pressure to her clit to be pleasurable. It took almost no time at all for Nyxx to reach her climax again, her walls milking Geralt of his second orgasm. She pulled off of him, leaning down to wrap her lips around Geralt’s still-leaking member, pointing her dripping cunt towards his face. “Eat me out,” she commanded.

Geralt didn’t need to be told twice as he pressed his tongue inside of her, lapping up the mixture of his seed and her juices as though he would die if he didn’t. He felt her clench around him and he moaned, the vibrations making her hum happily around his cock. She took him deep into her throat, her nose brushing against the wispy white hairs at his base. She hummed happily, her nails tracing mindless trails over his balls. The ticklish contact ripped Geralt’s third orgasm from him. Nyxx swallowed his seed down, pressing her cunt to Geralt’s face as his tongue pulled her orgasm from her. She slid off of him, waving her hand over the bed and releasing the bonds from Geralt’s body. She whispered something in Elder Speak and Geralt’s cock softened.

“Thank you for that, Geralt,” Nyxx said, waving her hand around, casting a gentle spell to tidy them both up.

“Thank you for saving my bard,” Geralt replied as he flexed his wrists and ankles.

“Of course. I am a healer, it’s my job. Now, I have but one final request, if you’ll indulge me?”

Geralt looked at her, eyebrow cocked. “And what would that be?”

“Spend the night with me here, in my bed. I shall not ask for sex again, just...companionship. It gets lonely out here,” she replied, suddenly feeling sheepish as she looked away from the witchers’ golden eyes.

“As you wish, my lady. I think that I owe you at least that much,” he said, moving to make space for her on the bed.

Nyxx crawled into the bed, facing the witcher who was suddenly not close enough for her tastes. She pressed her chest to his, relishing in the warmth of his body and the slow beat of his heart. She gently traced over some of his scars, her fingers idly moving to the large one on his thigh from the wyvern in the woods all those years ago.

“You could stay, you know,” she whispered. “You and the bard, Jaskier.”

“Hmm,” grumbled Geralt. “I don’t think we could. The villagers may trust you, but this near to Blaviken I am not exactly welcomed.”

“Fuck Blaviken. Fuck all those who cannot see that you do more good for this damn continent than anyone else,” Nyxx swore, her brown eyes flashing dangerously.

“Nyxx...I’m not...settling down isn’t for me. I’m not….domesticated.” The word rolled off his tongue like a curse, and he closed his eyes. “I’m a mutant built to hunt monsters. I’m not…” his voice trailed off quietly as his fingers gently ran through her black hair.

“But what if...what if we could be different? Look at us, Geralt. Two anomalies in a world that fears us both. You, the White Wolf, the great Geralt of Rivia, born of Kaer Morhen to fight monsters and to rid the world of the darkness that constantly threatens to consume us all. Me, the girl born marked by the moon, destined to be great, and abandoned by Aretuza when I wasn’t strong enough to ascend but too strong to become a conduit. We’re the same person,” Nyxx whispered, her hand resting above Geralts’ heart.

“Nyxx… I know what you’re thinking. But me, staying here…I’d hurt you every time I left,” Geralt said with a sigh. “My lifestyle...it doesn’t make for….attachments.”

“And yet you travel with Jaskier the bard at your side.”

“Jaskier is...different.”

Nyxx raised her eyebrow. “Of course he is. He’s human, Geralt. And I know you’ll deny it but deep down, under the white hair and the amber eyes and the mutations, you’re a human too.”

“I was a human. Kaer Morhen and Vesemir took that away from me with the Trials. They stripped me of my humanity to turn me into a monster.”

Nyxx grabbed his face and held it firmly in her hands, the gentle green glow of her magic lighting up their faces. “Now you listen to me, Geralt of Rivia. I can feel your humanity. I feel your heart beating, I’ve seen you bleed, I’ve heard you breathe. You are just as mortal as Jaskier is, only it’s harder to take your mortality from you. You are as human as I am.”

A smile danced at the corners of Geralt’s face as he took her hands in his. “Okay, Nyxx. I will honor your request as part of my payment to you for saving Jaskier’s life today. I will stay with you for as long as you will have me, but I will still spend time killing monsters as I am sworn to do.”

Nyxx smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I would never ask you to stop being a Witcher, Geralt. But I would very much prefer to be able to see you more often than once a decade, and I would prefer even more if I could see you when neither you, nor Jaskier, nor any other traveling companions you may pick up, are on death’s doorstep.”

“I can not promise you that I will return unharmed every time.”

“And I can promise you that every time you come home to me I will be ready to patch you back together.”

“Will every injured home-coming result in sex like tonight? Because if so I may get hurt more often,” Geralt said with a smirk.

“Not a chance, witcher,” she joked playfully. “These last two times were payment for two life debts. Anything after tonight is free of payment in exchange for having you here with me,” Nyxx said with a smile, her fingers tracing along Geralt’s jawline.

“Then I swear to always come back to you,” he replied, his calloused hand resting in the small of Nyxx’s back. She closed her eyes and practically melted into his arms.

“I’ll hold you to that, Geralt,” Nyxx said, her eyes fluttering shut as she began to fall asleep.

“I’m counting on it,” Geralt whispered, gently pressing his nose into her hair. “Sleep, my little mage.”

“Hmm.” Nyxx curled up to his chest, his slow and steady heartbeat lulling her to sleep quickly. Geralt followed soon after, enjoying the most peaceful sleep he had had in weeks.

____________________________________________________________ A/N: There it is, I hope you enjoyed it. If you liked it and would like to commission me to write something for you, I have a Ko-Fi page set up. Thank you for taking the time to read this <3

#The Witcher #geralt of rivia #the witcher fic #The witcher smut #geralt smut #Nicole writes

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tiergan-vashir · 6 years ago

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Just got back home from chatting with one of my good friends and old art/gaming industry contacts.

After spending roughly two years in the art/gaming industry and now being in a totally different career path that lets me draw and paint whatever hot steamy garbage I want when I get home - I don’t think I could ever go back. There are some people that do really well making their creative passion into a profession. I am not one of those people and it basically almost killed my drive to draw and paint for myself entirely.

I also appreciate hobbyist artwork SO much more than I ever did before. It’s so varied. People draw and paint all kinds of different subject matter. People draw and paint in all kinds of different styles. Everyone isn’t afraid to break rules, mush them back together, and really experiment with shit. Most importantly, they’re not afraid to just have fun and paint whatever the fuck they want. A lot of the time, I can definitely FEEL that whoever drew the art was having a BLAST - and there’s so much life in the artwork because of it! This is not to say professional work doesn’t have life or joy or that it’s somehow less good or less cool than the work of folks doing it for fun. These people are all incredibly skilled and make gorgeous work. It’s just that, unless you’re working at a place that has a pretty iconic style (Blizzard, Riot, etc) - lot of concept art winds up looking like either same dead, lifeless bullshit, because a lot of Triple A gaming companies want the same generic space marines or soldiers with various weapons OR everyone’s painting like they want desperately more than anything to copy the style of someone who is or used to be in Massive Black. There’s always exceptions of course and regardless, all of those artists are still very good at what they do and their work is executed at an extremely high level of technical skill, but still… feels kinda dead to me now, because I feel like I’ve kind of seen it all before. Everyone kinda circling around repeatedly doing the same things endlessly. The only concept artists I tend to like now are the ones who somehow manage to still be successful in the games industry despite having their own strong, notable style where their artwork truly feels like it has a unique voice. (Matt Rhodes springs to mind.)

The fact that getting my first layoff was considered ‘popping my gaming industry cherry’ with how frequent layoffs are in that industry also kinda was the last nail in the coffin. Game devs needs to unionize like hell, because the industry constantly exploits and abuses them. Having stable work that pays me well AND I get to draw whatever the fuck I want is far more valuable to me than anything else. I also literally forgot why I even originally wanted to become an artist for a while chasing that ‘dream’ of being a video game concept artist.

It was because I thought it was a ton of fun and I wanted to draw my own dumb stories. I did not want to spend the rest of my life painting Space Marine Number 3444534.

#non ffxiv #rl ramblings

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queenofmyshuno · 5 years ago

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Amersham

This is the story of Frederick Amersham: dutiful servant, attentive beau, regular churchgoer, responsible citizen, and generally pleasant chap. At least, these are all the things he said to me when I asked him to describe himself. Come, I’ll tell you all about him, and you can see for yourself.

Amersham’s days start early. Before the sun even hints at rising, Amersham is impeccably dressed and noiselessly descending the cold wooden boards of the staircase. He carefully shifts around familiar creaky spots, so as not to wake the family, and lights the fireplaces in the elegant three-story townhome.

He spent almost three months as a chef’s apprentice, and his cooking skills are a point of pride. He prepares breakfast, expertly wielding the knives that he sharpens and polishes nightly; he likes the clunck-clunck sound they make as the blade hits the cutting board. Long ago, Mr. Prescott, nortorious for his tight pursestrings, allowed Amersham to purchase fine quality cutlery for the kitchen, so Amersham makes sure to take good care of it.

Once the table is set and breakfast served, he stands in the kitchen and grabs a quick bite.

(Note: I’m making this out to be like it’s part of his busy schedule, but really, I forgot to leave a space in the kitchen for a table and chair, LOLs.)

Next, he scrubs the dishes and churns the butter. Normally, a home this size would have two or even three servants, but Amersham does it all. In this house, he’s the chef, scullery maid, chamber maid, launderer, footman, house boy, chauffer, and butler.

Mrs. Prescott recognizes how hard he works and will occasionally ask if he’d like her to talk to Mr. Prescott about hiring more help. He always politely refuses. The truth is, Amersham prefers it this way. He has a certain way he likes to do things, and other staff would only interfere with his thorough procedures.

Mr. Prescott also likes it this way as it saves him money. He’s very proud of how committed and competent Amersham is and regularly refers to him as “my man, Amersham,” as in, “Don’t worry about those bags; my man Amersham will see to them” or “Why don’t you come by the house for dinner this Tuesday; my man Amersham makes a mean pigeon pie.”

Back when Amersham was but a young man, he came to town looking for a fresh start, having learned from the mistakes of his past. Sumner Prescott, also in his prime, was just at the point where he needed his own manservant. Amersham was hired on and has been with him ever since. The two men have a longstanding bond and mutual respect for one another.

Indeed, the entire family counts themselves lucky to have such good help. Other people will complain about this or that thing their servants said or did, but Amersham never gives them any cause. In fact, they rarely even see him. They only see the cozy fire he started before they came into the room or the hot coffee placed in the parlor for them when they arrive home after being out on a rainy day. He’s a master at being present but undetected—in other words, the perfect servant.

His skills at getting around unnoticed are also sometimes useful when he’s not working. On Sunday evenings, after the family has had their supper and the dishes have all been washed and put away, he has a few hours off…

…to pursue his own interests. I hope I have not shocked you and that you will not repeat what you have learned here, for all that I have shared with you has been told to you in confidence. Amersham has desires, and in this respect, he’s no different than any other man. So, let us not dwell on this small aspect of Amersham’s life, but instead talk of something more acceptable.

Amersham has a sweetheart. Have you ever noticed how men who are in a relationship seem less threatening? For instance, women need not be apprehensive about romantic advances from a man who is taken. Additionally, both sexes tend to think of someone in a relationship as more stable, and therefore more reliable. People might not consciously think this, but there’s an underlying societal perception that makes others more comfortable if one is paired up. Have you noticed this? Amersham has.

Amersham’s girl is named Nadine Dudley, and they meet Wednesdays at the market when they’re shopping for their respective households. She adores him. He enjoys this. Sometimes he gets jealous if another man talks to her for too long, but he and Nadine get along exceptionally well, really just swimmingly well.

Except for sometimes. Nadine is keen to get engaged and feels that Amersham is putting her off. At times, she gets unreasonably cranky and is prone to whinge, that is, complain persistently (and in such a high-pitched voice that one who is far less kind than Amersham might describe it as “screechy”). Even the most patient person would be hard-pressed not to find this irritating.

Amersham, though, keeps his cool. He reasons with her (as much as one can reason with a woman) that they’re both servants living in other people’s homes. Extremely nice homes. If they were to get married, where would they live? With their finances, probably in a tenement. Where would they work if they were no longer live-in servants? They have no other job skills. No. They must wait and save their money. “I want you to have a beautiful home and the wedding you always dreamed about. I only want to wait because I care so much about you.”

You wouldn’t guess it by looking at him, but Amersham is very good with words. His words, his gestures, the soothing tone of his voice—he has a way of making even the most determined opponent come around to his way of thinking. Nadine gives in and apologizes for being silly. Because they’re not engaged, they haven’t yet kissed (except on the cheek). So, he simply holds her close, runs his fingers through her cherry-red hair, and says, “That’s okay. I forgive you.”

Amersham isn’t telling Nadine everything, though (as you well know). But let’s be honest, does anyone ever really tell anyone everything? What about you? Are you holding something back from someone in your life right now? Not everyone needs to know everything; some things are best kept unspoken. Amersham has many unspoken things that he puts in a corner of his mind and tucks away beneath a blanket of silence.

Reva. Amersham never speaks her name for fear his desire will betray him in an unexpected tremble or rasp in his voice. Reva, the beautiful eldest daughter of the Prescott family. Reva whose dark eyes seem to always have a perpetual touch of sadness in them. Reva whose one rebel curl always falls out from her neatly placed bun. Reva whose face Amersham sees every time he closes his eyes. Reva, beautiful Reva.

Reva has had countless suitors paraded in front of her but has shown no interest in any of them. Why is that? If Amersham had been born to a higher station, he would have swept her off her feet by now and they’d be living happily in their own beautiful house with roses in the garden, a porch so long it spanned the length of the house, and a little boy with his father’s face but his mother’s eyes. Does Reva ever dream about him, too? Is this why she’s still not married? Amersham holds out hope that somehow, someday he and Reva will end up together. And that’s why he perpetually courts but never marries Nadine.

Lately, Reva has been volunteering at the Vicar’s cottage which means that Amersham has to drive her there, which is no short ride. He wonders if this is all a ploy of hers so that she and Amersham can spend more time together.

Amersham himself does not have the time (nor, to be honest, the inclination) to volunteer with the church except when required to do so by the family, but he does go to church (religiously, as it were) every Sunday morning.

When the service ends, the family usually stays if there’s a church function that day, or goes to a friend’s house to visit, while Amersham returns home to attend to his duties. With the family safely away, he makes himself comfortable on Reva’s bed (the bed for which he washed the linens, fluffed the pillows, and tucked the corners in ever so lovingly) and checks her journal to see if there is any mention of him or their long drives to the Vicar’s cottage. There is not. Perhaps some things are too private to write down.

Before you think his actions inappropriate, know that he checks the younger daughter’s journal regularly, as well. As he has no interest in the younger daughter, this is proof that his actions are first and foremost to make himself as useful to his employers as possible.

If he has done something to displease them that the ladies are too refined to mention to him directly, is it not in their best interest that he finds that thing that is causing them displeasure and takes measures to correct it?

Indeed, you could even consider this as a gentlemanly favor to them, to know their wants and attend to them dutifully without ever being told.

To quietly check on a person‘s wellbeing and know their needs, whether it be through reading what they’ve written down or through watching attentively and then silently backing out of a room without disturbing them, these are all acts of great caring and great skill.

Why do you think the family loves him so? It’s because he loves them back, more than they’ll ever realize. Quietly and patiently, always just on the other side of the door, Amersham’s love and service know no boundaries.

#simblr sims 4 #storytelling simblr #sims 4 blog story #QOM Amersham #QOM Prescott #QOM Dudley #ts4 story #sims 4 story #QOM Frederick Amersham #QOM Prescott Family #QOM Nadine Dudley #QOM Simpire

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salavante · 6 years ago

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Grey Solidago!

(lol this one was from Jake but he forgot to turn anon off. I’m making ye way through these and will probably post the rest later today or tomorrow - I got Pat and Aesop to go and might just do one more headshot of my choice to make it an even number)

Full Name: Grey Solidago

Gender and Sexuality: Female & Bisexual

Pronouns: she/her

Ethnicity/Species: Grey is a half-Anubii (also known as a Zeke) and a hemilich. Her father, Jonquil, is a full blooded anubii, a race of odd, magically reanimated corpses of unknown origin, and her mother, Hare, is a human. Hare is also ethnically an Ashkenazi jew.

Birthplace and Birthdate: Maybe sometime in September. Could have been born in either The Tidelands (ranging from coastal sage scrub to salt marshes and deltas/swamps) or The Green (temperate rainforest and boreal pines to taiga).

Guilty Pleasures: Definitely smoking, a bad habit she picked up from her dad. Not really a guilty pleasure, but I also think that her tastes in music are a lot more varied than people would expect, and she can probably find something she likes in any genre she investigates.

Phobias: Nothin really man! Grey is actually the most “normal” and well adjusted of the Solidago children, which still means she’s kind of creepy and peculiar by average standards. She doesn’t like feeling vulnerable or like things are out of her control, and she is good at compartmentalizing her doubts and anxieties. There is a certain, intense rage inside her that is kept under a cool exterior, and inflicting grievous harm on someone who she feels deserves it is not something that troubles her very much. I suppose she may fear taking things too far and doing something very cruel, because she knows she has the ability and emotional capacity to do it.

What They Would Be Famous For: Grey is a fine artist who does very big, lush oil paintings, and while not famous, is notable and has had gallery shows of her work. Grey’s usual job is accompanying adventuring parties to strange locals and then illustrating them in action and doing charcoal studies of ruins/landscapes/etc, as editorial material for the various publications on adventuring and dungeon diving. She’s become a handful of magazines’ go-to gal. Her work is mostly representational, and she seldom makes a piece without doing lots of studies first, but she leans heavy into chiaroscuro and has big, juicy brush strokes. Words often used to describe her work are “eerie”, “haunting” or “intense”.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Probably something really benign like trespassing or going somewhere without a proper permit, Grey is pretty lawful, both of her parents are in a law enforcement esque occupation. They run a very organized adventurer’s guild, effectively, that will cooperate with local law enforcement to catch run of the mill criminals in addition to tackling monsters or liches or what have you.

OC You Ship Them With: Wybjorn has a tiny baby crush on her because he gets crushes on anyone who’s moderately nice to him, but he’s a little too goofy for her, she’s not into it. Grey’s in an awkward bracket of characters because they are kind of our third gen group and there’s only so many of them in the 20-30 range (Grey is 23). She’s also kind of an intense lady, I keep using that word but it fits. Canonically, we’re going to see how Grey and Ozzy fare when we get around to Mindrunner II, the sequel to Ozzy’s original campaign. They weirdly hit it off during Godslaughter, I think they’re both very intellectual people and counterbalance one another very well. Ozzy has a partner already, their name is Rosemary, but Ozzy has two hands.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Jovix-Cailo, probably. He did kill Lysander and broke Grey’s leg. Otherwise she hasn’t really done anything to invoke someone’s ire. Jovix-Diocunigast might also kill her in the final fight, we shall see (I wrote this before the game was over, he didn’t!).

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Grey likes slow burn ghost stories, psychological horror, true crime documentaries, mysteries and thrillers. She’d like “I Am The Pretty Thing That Lives In The House”, “Twin Peaks” and Agatha Christie. She probably reads short story anthologies and paperbacks when she’s on the road for her job. Anything with well paced tension will hold her interest, but she may tolerate poor writing as long as the visuals in a movie or TV show are good.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: I honestly don’t think she’d treat something with disdain or vitriol like some other characters might, I think she’s pretty good at ignoring stuff that she doesn’t like in terms of media. Not a big fan of slashers or more fantastical horror, she has pretty well defined tastes, and dislikes your usual bouquet of mainstream film genres (romcoms, action, etc). I do think that one thing she truly does not like is any cartoon with singing in it, which is probably something she has to moderately tolerate because she has a young niece.

Talents and/or Powers: Grey has a mostly utility build with a focus on stacking debuffs and interrupting other people’s attacks. She doesn’t have any really big, damage dealing abilities, but she’s meant to support more potent DPS by wearing down bosses with status afflictions. In fiction this manifests as a handiness at weaving curses. As mentioned before, she is also a pretty skilled painter, with her preferred mediums as charcoal, ink wash and oils.

Why Someone Might Love Them: Strong willed, confident, intelligent and classy - Grey has perhaps had self confidence issues in the past, she was kind of a weird looking, gangly child/teenager, but she really owns herself now. She knows what she likes and dislikes and makes her preferences very obvious, and though she doesn’t make jokes very often, has a good sense of humor (which she got from her mom) though it can be kind of dry/morbid. She’s rather private and has an air of mystery about her and a slight eeriness that some may find enticing. She also refuses to stand idly by when there is injustice in her presence, for better or for worse.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: She can come off as uncaring or cold, and definitely has a terminal case of Resting Bitch Face. Any hiccups in her success in the art world are caused by her being uncompromising with her integrity, and a reluctance to play nice peers and art directors just for the sake of networking or getting a job. Being disingenuous feels counterintuitive to her sense of ethics. And while that’s all well and good, it makes her difficult to work with, and has made her miss out on some opportunities she may have benefitted from. Her bluntness has made her unpalatable to many, and some may see her as being stuck up. She also does not react well to people approaching her with aggression or snideness, and will retaliate ferociously.

How They Change: Honestly, not a lot, she’s pretty stable. Grey has mostly functioned in an NPC capacity up until this point, so there haven’t really been any stories focused on her. Prior to her extra dimensional shenanigans with her half-brother, she had kind of a strained relationship with her mom, who’s she’s since gained a lot more respect and compassion for. They’re on much better terms now. She also started out not liking Ozzy very much and thought he was kind of a weiner, but, they’re very good friends now after having some pretty harrowing experiences together.

Why You Love Them: She’s my only character who’s actually an artist. I don’t tend to like making characters who, well, do what I do. I love illustrating but what I do is still a lot of hard work and I like to take breaks from it. Generally speaking, I prefer to insert my creativity and drive into characters that make things with their hands but don’t make visual art per say. It’s why a lot of my characters are scientists and engineers. So I think it’s a unique connection to have.

#Anonymous

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grimscale-mercenaries · 5 years ago

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The Ring

Written by: Thaelea Solarsphere

A full moon shone over Duskwood that evening. The bright light from the celestial body was more than enough to make even the gloomy Darkshire look more pleasant. People were out and about in the city square, mingling and doing business. Thaelea had returned home early that evening, after once again being abandoned by Covie after she initiated a brief conversation. That woman will never tire of running away after a quick chat. Once she had procured some vegetables in the square, Lea returned to her modest manor on the outskirts of town.

“Saraena, I’m home” she called as she crossed the threshold and shut the door behind her. “Welcome home, mom” her daughter answered, but of course didn’t bother actually coming to greet Lea. The girl may be only four months old, but she behaved like a teenager. Thaelea didn’t make an issue of it, leaving Saraena to her own plans while she tended to some work. It had been a week since she had stumbled across a crate full of allegedly magically-infused objects. Though she had given everything within a cursory glance, the Ren’dorei had little time or desire to fully investigate each one, apart from rooting out a few random trinkets that had no supernatural value at all. Now that she had some spare time, Lea chose to sit down at the desk in her private study, pick one of the items, and really examine it.

None of the objects within the crate had seemed particularly unique or power, not enough to give her a reason to focus on that one specifically. Instead, Thaelea just dug her hand into the sack she had placed them all in and drew one out at random. It wasn’t the torn bear or the calcified horn, which she expected considering their size. No, Lea drew out a ring. The trinket was nothing special; a simple golden band with a minor diamond. It was lovely, in its way, but to an Elf of noble upbringing, it was unimpressive. Lea was poised to set it aside and draw again, but noticed an inscription on the inside of the band: “For the one whose love could not be bought.” A curious message. It wasn’t all that odd, really, but it was enough that Thaelea took an interest.

The Ren’dorei placed the ring on a mat atop her desk. The mat itself, made of velvet, had a circle runes; the ring placed in the very center. With the ring in place, the runes began to glow a faint pinkish-violet. The arrangement was meant to nullify any native magic in the object beyond the circle, preventing, in theory, any harmful effects from getting out of control. From there, Lea leveled her hand over the ring, her palm and digits glowing a mix of purple and green as she probed the ring. There wasn’t a terribly large amount of magic in the ring, suggesting that its abilities were limited. Even so, there was still magic within the ring. Was it Arcane? No, Arcane had a more neutral feel, and this was most certainly not neutral. Fel? No, far too stable. Perhaps...Void. Yes, that was it. There was a core of void magic buried within the ring.

“Why would someone imbue a ring with Void magic?” she asked aloud to herself. Void was a curious choice of magic to use to amplify an object. Arcane, Fel, even Elemental magics provided a more direct and overt power-boost. Void was less pronounced, working more subtly rather than augmenting a person’s raw potential. Was someone trying to drive another mad, she thinks to herself. Or maybe affect personality? Thaelea shook her head. “No, the inscription is the clue. ‘For someone whose love could not be bought’. Now what could that mean?” Void magic was not something that usually went hand in hand with love. In theory, it’s possible that the magic was imbued after the inscription, to affect someone after they had already become familiar with the ring. Possible, but the Ren’dorei was certain that the inscription and the Void magic went hand in hand. “Maybe-” a knock came at the door, not the study’s, but the house’s.

“I’ll be right there!” Thaelea yelled. She took one more look at the ring, then turned in her seat to rise, only to find the face of her daughter directly in hers. “What’s that?” Saraena asked, eyes locked on the ring. Thaelea jumped. It was bad enough that she had failed to hear her daughter enter, but to not sense the presence of her magic at atll? That was shocking. “Saraena, what are you-” The younger Solarsphere, not waiting for her mother’s answer, reached out and took the ring into her hand. “It’s pretty. Can I have it?” Lea’s eyes widened, beyond shocked. “Saraena! Put that down immediately!” The girl giggles mischievously and quickly darts out of the study. “What does it do?” She yelled back Thaelea leapt from her chair and ran after her daughter in a state of near-panic. Who knows what magic Saraena was exposing herself to?

The knock at the door repeated. This time, Lea ignored it. She was much too occupied trying to catch her daughter. “Saraena! This is not a game! Give it to me, -now-!” Of course, the child ignored her mother. She ran into the kitchen, putting the table between her and her mother. “Tell me what it does and I’ll give it back.” “You spoiled child, this is not a negotiation!” “Did Covie propose?” “SARAENA!” Thaelea made an effort to lunge across the table, hoping to grasp the ring from Saraena’s hand, but the girl is quicker on her feet. She dodged the grab, then sprinted out to the living area. “Mother, someone is knocking at the door! We can’t be rude, can we?” As Thaelea pushed herself off the surface of the table, she groans. Maybe father’s way was best, she thought to herself before chasing after her daughter.

By the time Thaelea caught up to her daughter, Saraena had slipped the ring onto her finger. Lea froze upon the realization, momentarily watching her child for an effect. “Saraena...Take that off.” The girl rolled her eyes. “You worry too much, mom.” Ignoring Lea, yet again, she left the ring on her finger and opened the door. It was Mr. Cromwell, the grocer from the square. “Please pardon the interruption, Lady Solarsphere.” Though it was Saraena at the door, the middle-aged man spoke past her to Thaelea. “You forgot the apples you purchased.” The elder Solarsphere smiled, though it was clear she was nervous. “Thank you, Mr. Cromwell. That’s very kind of you to bring them. Saraena, go put them in the kitchen, alright?” The girl didn’t move. “Saraena?”

Thaelea could not see it, but her daughter stared at the man before her almost in awe. “Is...something wrong, ma’am?” Mr. Cromwell looked uneasy, The young lady just gazed at him. “Saraena? Are you ok? Thaelea moved closer to her daughter, the concern plain on her face. What is the ring doing to her? Before Lea reaches the girl, Saraena moved forward, thrusting herself against Mr. Cromwell in order to kiss him, and not just a small peck. Thaelea’s jaw dropped. “Saraena!” Poor Mr. Cromwell looked as though he had seen a ghost. He tried to step back, but Saraena would not allow it. When she finally peeled herself away, she gazed longingly up at the taller man. “You are such a kind man, a generous man. What more can a woman ask for in a husband?” That was enough. Thaelea abruptly stepped forward and pulled her daughter away. “My apologies, Mr. Cromwell. My daughter is...unwell. She’s been running a fever.” “Mother, let me go. You have no right to stand in my way.”

“QUIET!” “Mother, I love him! Let me go!”

The Elves pushed and pulled at one another briefly. “Keep the apples, Mr. Cromwell. I need a word with my daughter.” Lea pushed Saraena back then swiftly shut the door. She’d have to deal with Cromwell, later.

Saraena groaned her protest at having been forcibly separated. “It’s not fair, mom! You have no right to lecture me about the affairs of the heart!” There was no mistaking what had brought this on. Saraena had shown no interest in the man at any point before. As far as Lea knew, she had never even met the man. Her amethyst hues fell to the ring on Saraena’s finger. “Saraena...Give me the ring.” The young woman looked briefly at her hand, then stepped back. “No. It’s mine. He gave it to me. We’re going to be married.” Thaelea sighed. “Just...let me have it back for a moment. I need to look at something. I promise you can have it back.” It was a lie, but Lea couldn’t be burdened with rigid honesty at the moment. Even so, Saraena refused, covering the ring with the opposite hand. “Saraena!” Lea yelled, but her daughter still refused. “Saraena, I’m very sorry about this.” Lea nodded, but not to her daughter. It was obvious that her gaze was on something behind her. Saraena took note of Lea’s line of sight, and swiftly turned around. She found a succubus, one of her mother’s many servants. The demon looked into the girl’s eyes. “Shh, don’t resist, child. It is so much more enjoyable if you surrender.” It was a seduction spell, used by succubi to incapacitate their targets.

The look in the demon’s eyes was mesmerizing. Saraena froze in place, caught in a trance-like state. Lea took the opportunity to quickly relieve her daughter of the ring. “Thank you, Fereya. Everything is fine now.” The succubus nodded and broke its hold over the younger Solarsphere before fading away into the shadows. Saraena blinked twice, confused at what had just happened. “Wh...what happened? Mom?” Lea stepped up behind her, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “It’s alright, love. You were under the effect of an enchantment. You were….not yourself. Why don’t you go lie down for a while? We’ll discuss this further, later.” Lea turned to return to her study, pausing briefly to add “Along with the need for a child to show proper -respect- to her mother.” Saraena nodded with ears wilted. She may not have remembered exactly transpired, but her memory of seizing the ring was very clear.

Upon returning to her study, Lea locked the door this time. She placed the ring back into the nullification zone on the mat. “So, you do have a use” she remarks aloud. The brief incident with Saraena and Mr. Cromwell, while troubling, had proved to be useful. Judging from the events that took place, the ring seemed to inspire feelings of love in the wearer. And not just love, but the impression that the wearer is engaged to be married. But there were still questions that needed answering. Saraena had taken the ring herself, it had not been given to her, yet she believed Mr. Cromwell had given it to her. Perhaps it has something to do with him being the first person she saw after putting the ring on? If nothing else, this explained why Void magic was chosen. No magic affects the minds of people like Void magic. Whether driving them mad, altering personalities, or even completely dominating a mind, Void magic is the go-to.

Thaelea sat back against the chair, drumming her fingers on her desk as she stared at the ring. The effect of the object was interesting enough, but she found herself more intrigued by the story behind it. She mused aloud to herself, “You could not buy love, so you created and imposed it, instead. How devious of you.” The way she spoke was as if the ring’s maker was standing right beside her. As treacherous as such an object was, the Elf couldn’t help but admire the work that went into it. The amount of magic within was so small, and yet it had such a powerful effect. The corner of her lips tugged upward as Lea took on a lop-sided smile. She reached over to the bracelet on her wrist, opening a comm line to an individual, rather than the entire group. “Covie, darling, I have something interesting to show you. Are you busy tomorrow?”

#grimscale mercenaries #member writing #thaelea #the ring #magic

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