#i am so far gone for this disaster man | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kinokkotsu · 2 months ago

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“Don’t js sit there and wait 4 me to talk,”ᶻz ⟢— yuta okkotsu x reader

TW: the reader is severely traumatized, the reader lost her loved ones during shibuya incident, HEAVY angst, love confession, fluff, THE AFTERMATHS OF JJK MANGA ENDING, MANGA SPOILERS!! Yuta has lost it too btw ୨୧

“Aren’t you tired?” You looked up from your hot dinner. “You had just returned from eliminating a special grade.”

The dining table was piled with various kinds of foods. The room reeked of unrequited love and affection. It almost made you want to melt into the ground out of shame.

“Tired? This is just a simple dinner. You deserve it. So sit back, relax and enjoy your evening,” Okkotsu gave you a gentle smile. He was sitting in his chair so elegantly. As if he was a doll for display.

You lazily swung your fork around the small chop of meat on your plate. It was regarded as impolite to play with your food at the table yet you could not help it. Whatever act he was putting up was rather exaggerated and nerve wrecking.

“I think I remember telling you to stay away from my house,” you muttered. Your voice came out like a whisper. You did not dare to look at him but you could sense his gaze burning down on your face.

He breathed out a laugh. “Did you?”

“I sure did.” You put the fork in your mouth. “I am no longer a part of the jujutsu society anymore. Why do you still insisting on clinging onto me?”

“Forgive me then,” He replied. He poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down. He had just dodged your question. Great.

It hadn’t been long since your partner, who you had been in a committed relationship, died during whatever that was. Ever since the disasters occurred within jujutsu society. You would never believe you could easily love somebody as easily again. You suppose you do not genuinely had the strength to.

You glanced at his abdomen. Behind the linen cloth of his shirt laid a dark giant horizontal scar that once made him almost lose his life. It’s only pure luck that had saved him from entering the death’s door.

“I once thought it is appropriate to only admire you— a undeniably strong colleague,” He broke the taunting silence, his eyes glancing away like he was thinking about something from the past. “However, now that everything had gone crumbling down and it’s only you and I left..” he smiled as his piercing eyes darted back at you again. “It feels like I have the responsibility to grasp every piece of love everyone else had for you.”

He dragged his finger, circling on the soft mattress of the table. “And finally form something full, something complete.”

You winced at his words. He knew you couldn’t handle this sort of conversation yet he dared utter those words like he wanted to let his friends die from the start.

Had he finally lost it?

Of course it was going to turn out like that for him as well. Everyone left the both of you in this grey world. Despite the other survivors remaining, you and him were like two small connected puzzle pieces lying far from the other pieces.

It was not the same. It will never be the same.

Everything hasn’t been okay since you stepped out of that butcher hole. It was beyond petrifying. It was traumatic for both parties. And yet he had the audacity to act like those deaths of his beloved ones had not fazed his delicate little soul. It was as though he was not quite as disheveled as you were.

“I can’t return the favor,” you dropped your spoon next to the plate. “Look, I don’t even believe I have the ability to form a proper relationship again.” your voice trembled. “I am really, extremely sorry so can you please just stop seeing me agai-.”

“I can,” He smiled. His body leaned against the table. “but you must promise me something.”

“You must tell me what it is, first or I will not be confined to it.” You stared into his wet eyes. Despite the goodie-two-shoes look on his face, you could sense the heavy burden of the man who was once the second strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world.

"In the future, if you ever find yourself in the position to love somebody again,” He smiled softly. “let it be me.” Somewhere along that sentence, you heard his voice shook.

Your breath became unstable. Is he stupid? Your ability to love was lacking because you had become too afraid to dedicate your heart again. Therefore this ridiculous fantasy he had was never likely to happen.

What is giving him the strength to be so desperate?

You pressed down both your hands into the table mattress. “Why must you be so stubborn? Don’t you get it? We are both at the edge of turning insane! What gives you the illusio-”

“I love you,” Yuta confessed, “I learned to appreciate you even more given the circumstances. I wish to adore every part of you while I remain alive.”

You felt like something clicked within you.

You realised that you had taken the negativity out of the situation whereas this man before you learn to cope with it in a more meaningful way. Had he always been like this?

The familiar old smile appeared in your memory and you confirmed that. He’d always been like this.

You inhaled as you built up every courage to breathe out. “You were already adored by many including me.” You said, shaken by the pain of the loss of your old boyfriend. “But I..promise you I will not dodge my feelings for you if I were to discover myself again.”

“Good.” He gave you a toothy grin. The one that you hadn’t seen for possibly years. “We will be alright, [Name].” He took your cold hands with his warm ones. “You and I, together, will go through this.”

Your heart ached at the look of his thrilled face. Can you really be hopeful about this? It should not possibly be happening sooner or later but maybe if you just stand strong and get up again, both of you get to live a happy life and this time, a happy ending.

“Now eat up, the food is getting cold.” He insisted before retreating his hand from yours. A small smile broke out your lips. You were almost certain that you will be having this guy in your house more often to cook meals for you.

Regarding fairness, It’s a price for asking a huge favor from you.

I saw a slideshow on tiktok about this kinda plot and I’m balling my eyes out. BTW I hope I still have my people w me.🙂‍↕️ I hadn’t posted in a long time due to assignments and stuff. I apologize deeply for that, my loves. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘

LIKES AND REPOSTS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATIVE. as usual ‹𝟹

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rationaliity · 7 months ago

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mine now | gallagher x f! reader ( 18 + )

ill be so real with you my dearest freaky anon i'm not the biggest fan of cheating so plspls understand that if this kinda sucks,,, im sorry, especially since you were waiting for so long for this and then i drop the most lukewarm fic of all time. i also had to change the story around so that it was something that i was comfortable writing, sorry about that ! still the basic premise, i just am not good with ntr for some reason ?? weird. who knows man. tags : drug abuse ! dubcon, dirty talking, weed & alcohol mention, female anatomy reader but its sort of nonspecific idk, pw/op, voyeurism sorta, exhibitionism sorta, coercion almost, mentions of infidelity, comfort turns into sex, possessiveness, unprotected sex, gallagher uses petnames a lot, reader being drunk & high at the same time, reader gets on call with her ex boyfriend while gallagher fucks them words: 1.8k

gallagher's hand was in your hair, your head pulled back as he pounded you so hard into the mattress it made your hip hurt a little bit from the pressure, not that it was really what you were focused on. he'd promised to make you forget your shitty ex boyfriend who'd cheated on you, and you had agreed on that without a second thought. it was originally just a drink that the two of you shared together, with you ranting about this loser to gallagher, who was all too patient with you.

one drink turned into three, and drinks turned into smoking together. being crossfaded and half focused, those little rants went on about everything that had pissed you off about that loser since the moment the relationship started to decay. everything from how he refused to flush the toilet no matter how many times you reminded him, to how tiny his dick was. gallagher had laughed at your jokes about him, and it spurred you on to keep going, laughing about that loser's tiny shrimp dick. gallagher asked if you'd ever had a dick bigger than two inches, and you shook your head. you had no idea what sex was really supposed to feel like aside from what you knew.

then he asked if you were willing to see what it was like, and you swore you'd never felt more sober than that moment right then as you hesitantly nodded. was it still going to hurt if you weren't a virgin anymore ? the answer, surprisingly, was a resounding yes ! you learned that pretty quickly as gallagher's hips pistoned into yours, his free hand grabbing the fat of your ass, his body pressed against yours so he could whisper into your ear.

" don't be shy, baby, you can let your makeup ruin my sheets. it's been ruining my shirt all night now, " he purred in your ear, his sharp canines daring to bite into the sensitive skin of your neck completely without warning. when he finally did, you made a pathetic little mewl that you weren't even aware that you could make. " a little reminder of who can fuck you better than that fuckin' pathetic loser, yeah ? gonna go to work tomorrow n show off your mark for everyone to see, yeah ? "

possessiveness was driving him, only amplified tenfold by the weed in his system. it made you both feel everything so much deeper, so both in tune with your bodies and completely disorientated at the exact same time. you couldn't feel your toes anymore, and you weren't even sure you had a tongue in your mouth you were so far gone, but you could feel every deep stroke inside of you as he thrust, and the feeling of his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

you were a disaster. you knew you should be somewhere else. it was in three the morning, you were three drinks and several shots deep, and with enough weed in your system to kill a victorian child before they could even understand what was happening to them. but you had no idea that you needed this so much, needed to feel him so deep inside of you that it brought you to tears, stretching you so well that you thought there was no way it was going to fit. and yet his cock buried itself completely inside you each time, his tip hitting against your walls in that special spot that made you cry out.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and by god you wanted to moan so loud that your neighbors could hear you. and maybe you were doing all of those things, at this point you weren't entirely sure what you were doing, other than taking his cock. gallagher was like an animal, desperate to claim every inch of you, and you were so willing to give him everything that he desired without any amount of a fight.

you heard a noise in the background, but you honestly didn't think much of it at that point. it was so unimportant, you didn't really care what it was, although you recognized the sound. " baby, your phone is ringin', you wanna answer it, or should i ? "

you made a pitiful little noise, and he took that as a perfectly valid answer, grabbing your phone and sliding it up for you. " hey, yeah ? oh, man. " you couldn't hear what was going on on the other side of the phone, but you could hear gallagher chuckle, and you swore he started to fuck you even harder now, the lewd noises of your skin slapping together undoubtedly able to be heard through the phone. " yeah, sorry you're a fuckin' loser, but they've got some new dick. thank you for keepin' them so fuckin' tight f'me. "

you don't know why your ex hadn't hung up the phone yet, but also on the other hand it made complete sense. if he had a way to argue, he was going to argue, even when all of the odds were against him, and the answer was blaring at him straight in his face. you buried your face in the pillow, trying not to make so much noise, but finding it impossible with the way gallagher was thrusting inside of you like he owned your body. and maybe he did, who knows at this point ? you just knew that you'd never felt this good, not with yourself, or any other partner.

" you wanna talk to them ? oh, man, be my fuckin' guest. i just hope you know you ain't gonna like what you hear. "

without a warning, the phone was pushed against your ear, letting you speak and say whatever you wanted to, but you couldn't find the words to say anything to him in between the moans spilling from your lips. " i-i- hh- fuck- " you whimpered, trying to think of something to say, but your mind was completely blank and filled with so many thoughts at the exact same time. there was only a brief moment of time where there wasn't anything coming from the other line, your ex so stunned that he couldn't find anything to say, but then came the barrage of insults, ones that would make you cry if you weren't being fucked so well by a man like gallagher, who was able to take your mind off of a pathetic man like your ex.

" put him on speaker, doll. let him hear you cummin' your brains out on my cock if he's so inclined. shit, i'll send him a video if he wants. whatever gets him to understand that you aren't his anymore, " gallagher growled behind you, one of his hands coming to snake around your waist, rubbing the sensitive nub between your legs with his thick, calloused thumb. you could only nod in response, sitting your phone down and turning it on speaker. you wanted him to feel horrible about everything he did to you, and you were hoping this was exactly the revenge you needed to finally get over him.

with the phone out of your hands, it was like it was entirely forgotten, especially with his finger rubbing your clit in tiny little circles. everything was building up to feel so strong inside of you, you had no idea what was happening. was it the drugs in your system making your body act up like this ? you had no idea, completely unsure what was going on. you felt this feeling in your tummy tightening as gallagher fucked you senseless, exactly like how he had promised to.

" ga-gallagher- " you whimpered out, your breath hitching in your throat. even in your fucked out state, you still managed to say something coherent, and of course it was his name. that thought only brought a satisfied grin to his face, and the older man couldn't stop himself from responding, clearly putting on a show for the person on the other end of the phone.

" what is it, my sweet ? gonna cum ? ya gonna cum on my cock like this 'nd forget all about him ? you take me so well, it's like you were made for a big, fat cock to stretch you out 'nd rearrange ya. " he was going so hard he needed to grab the headboard, his nails digging into the wood so hard that he wasn't sure if it would splinter or not, not that it even mattered. a little blood wasn't going to hurt him, and it certainly wasn't going to make him stop fucking your divine body into the perfect little cocksleeve for him. " is this your first orgasm on a cock ? you don't even know what's happenin' to ya, that's fuckin' adorable. you aint got no idea why you feel all tight down there, huh ? "

all you could do was nod helplessly against him, drooling onto the fabric of the bedsheets that was so soaked from your slick just dripping down your legs and pooling underneath you. " gonna- gonna cum, gonna cum, gallagher- pl-please- " you didn't know why you were saying please, you knew he wasn't going to stop now, not when he had a point to make of giving you the best orgasm you've ever had in your life.

" cum then, sweetie. i'll ride you through it. i'm gonna cum in this little hole of yours, okay ? you okay with that ? " you didn't give him a verbal response, just a nod of your head, but he couldn't stop himself from gently slapping your clit, making you cry out in pain, the sharpness of the sensation leaving you breathless. " say it, doll. say you want me to cum inside. you can do it, baby. "

" please- cuh-cum inside of me, gallagher- " you begged, earning you a tentative kiss on the side of your neck where he had bitten you earlier, and his finger started to rub circles around your sore clit again, perfectly timed just to make you cum.

" we're gonna cum together, okay ? let go, baby. i'm right here wi-with ya, " he couldn't stop himself from letting out a low groan, letting go of the headboard to grab your hip, dragging you on his cock as he fucked himself on you, chasing your orgasms together. with a low, animalistic growl, gallagher let go inside of you, shooting hot ropes inside of your walls as you clenched helplessly around him, the duo orgasm making you feel like you were able to blank out at any second, but you were entirely aware of your situation. he rode out the sensations with you, slowing down into gentle thrusts as he milked both of your orgasms at the same time.

when he pulled, gallagher laughed to himself, kissing the side of your neck and your nape several times as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his body against yours. " he hung up. guess we gotta call him back when we have a round two, yeah ? "

— ♡ rationaliity 2024

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

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Northern Attitude

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a/n guilty... guilty... guilty... I caved in. I own up to my weaknesses. Promised myself to never write for this man and here I am now. This is my first time so be gentle. 🗡️🫧

summery: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: injuries, blood, bleeding out, alcohol, needles, death, trauma fun stuff.

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You two hated each other. That was a fact, and there was no way around it. It was scowling glares, sharp jabs during training if you two were paired together, and bitter remarks thrown here and there. And the joy of it all was that Price had granted you a shared room on the base. First, the excuse was that there was simply not enough room; the team had grown. Then he said he wasn't having a team that was up on biting each other's necks out. So in conclusion, he had set it up on purpose.

Did it help? No. It was a disaster. The man was insufferable. And, in all honesty, you had no idea what you had done. You had thrown a sexist card at him multiple times because you simply couldn't find another reason for his unmeasured dissatisfaction as to why you shouldn't be here. Never had he said anything nice your way. You got it; the guy was secretive. You didn't need to look far. The fact that he never took his mask off was proof enough. But to be so against someone you didn't even spend time with?

"Clean your mess", Ghost huffed, dropping his wet towel on the bed. You lifted your head away from your book. At least you two had separate beds on the opposite sides of the room. "It's on my side", you said, pointing to the white line that Ghost had drawn on the floor like a kid the first night you dragged your stuff here. The rule was simple: you stayed on your side, he on his. The bathroom was the only exception. "Yeah, I have to look at it, don't I", he grumbled, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. You paid him no mind, your eyes turning back to the pages. "Poor you, does it mess with your posh tea time?", you chuckled under your breath, earning a growl from the other side of the room.

And that's how it went. More than not, you considered any word coming out of Ghost's mouth a win. Because a new tactic the asshole had adopted was pretending that you weren't even a thing. You were an actual ghost, and Simon didn't believe in the paranormal clearly. You fastened your vest, double-checking that your on-hand weapons were right where you wanted them. "Do you need me to do a touch-down for you?", your head darted up, only to be met with a smug-looking scot. Soap. You couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "Do you think that if you keep asking, the answer will eventually change?", you snickered back, shaking your head. Soap shrugged. "You tell me, bonnie?", the man teased back. Leave it to Johnny to joke around right before a mission. You hummed, "Maybe I'm more into you undoing it", Gaz snickered somewhere in the back. Soap's smirk grew even bigger. You knew that it was all good fun. Neither of them would make a move. They respected you. To most, you were like a sister. They had become your family. One you never had. Before Soap could say anything in return, the back door swung open, and in strolled Ghost. God, he looked good. Six feet of pure muscle. And when this man was in his full gear... You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the way he looked before dropping your gaze. Suddenly, you were way more interested in the guns on the table than anything else.

Johnny came to stand next to you as the team gathered around the table. Price loved to gather everyone around before it all went off. John was like a father to most. You were no exception. You liked to tease the boys that you were his number one. His girl. And well, by law, you were. Considering that he pulled you out of the foster home, you owned this man a lot, even if he said that it was all in the past.

"You know the drill; go in, grab what you need, and get out. Try to keep it clean", Price said, pulling three sheets of paper and scattering them around on the table. "Soap and Ghost, you're together. I'll go with Gaz. Sugar, you're alone on this; we will clean the path for you, though". It was supposed to be a joke that name. You wanted something cool. Something as cool as Ghost, but Johnny was quick to remind you that his nickname was soap "And sugar", He had said, "That's quite literally white death". So it stuck.

You nodded your head, only to find Ghost shaking his. "Got something against it, LT?", you snarled. His eyes met yours over the table. With the war paint, his eyes were even more radiant. "She can't go alone. She doesn't know how to hold herself back and will do something stupid", now it was your turn to growl. Scratch the fact that you found this man attractive. You will suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep when you return to base. "Want to go with her, Ghost?", Price said calmly, knowing full well the answer would be a hard no. "We meet in the safe house afterward", Price continued without acknowledging the death glare Ghost was wearing, "Come back in one piece, you bunch". Everyone nodded quietly, reaching for the masks, double-checking the cartridges and radios. You were all climbing into the motorcar when Soap nudged your shoulder. "I'll hold you to the undressing part", he winked, hurrying to sit down. Your anger simmered down as you flipped him off in return, his laughter booming. It was Ghost, whose unimpressed eyes followed you two, gripping the gun in his hands tightly as he chose to stare ahead.

It was nothing—the mission. The base that needed to be checked out was pretty much abandoned. A couple of kills. A smoke bomb here and there. It was easy. Simple. They laid a clear path for you to do your thing. Your small frame was what they needed here. Air vents weren't the best of friends with hulky soldiers. "Do your worst, Sugar", Price had muttered into the radio some time ago. Your response was a cold, "Copy". The four of them were left to watch over the main entry points. Yet sending you into the belly of the beast felt wrong. At this point, Simon had lost count of the number of times he had reached for his radio, ready to call out to you. But he talked himself out every time.

"Got it", your voice pierced the silence. Ghost's shoulders drooped. "Good girl, bring it home", Price called back. Soap looked out of the window, "We should go meet them at the-", but his voice was cut by the cracking that came from the radio. Then it all died down. Silence. Soap locked eyes with Ghost. "Price, you copy?", Soap called out. Silence struck again. "All good here, you copy?", the captain called out. "Positive", Ghost muttered into the radio. Gunshots echoed deep within the base. It was you. The noise had to come from you. Ghost felt his heartbeat picking up. He had to find a way to get to you. To cover you. Yet the rational side of his brain screamed at him, saying that there was no way for him to do so.

The crackling filled the air around him once more as they rushed toward the spot where the team had agreed to meet. "Abort", your breathless voice came through the radio. "Get your asses out", you were panting. Ghost could hear you reloading your gun. "Sugar, what's the situation?", even Price's voice sounded more panicked. And the old man kept his cool. They all did. This whole shit could have been a setup for all they knew. Even outside, the sound of bullets pierced the silence didn't ease. Simon wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but your labored voice still twisted at his heart, "Get. Out."

The safe house had never felt so quiet. Usually, at least Soap was a never-ending chatterbox. Now the male stood in front of the window. Not moving. His eyes were glued to the forest in front of him. Price was half a bottle down on the bourbon. Gaz's leg hadn't stopped bouncing. They all had minor bruises, but that was expected.

"We need to go back", Soap said, rubbing his palms together. "You know that we can't, Johnny", Price puffed out a cloud of smoke. He was no doubt thinking of ways he was going to break the news to his wife. "She wouldn't fucking leave us", Soap snarled back. You would expect a handful of army men to be able to hold their composure in situations like this, but... You had dragged them all out of a dark pit. You were undoubtedly good at what you did, yes. But you offered much more. The safety blanket. A proper homemade meal when there was time, and that was a lot for a man who had been stuck in the base for months, missing home. There had been so much more laughter and smiles since you joined the force. As if you had breathed back humanity and a sense of life into their ice-cold bones. And now they all had to go back to...

The handle of the back door creaked. All four of them reached for their guns in unison. But no one besides them was supposed to know where the keys had been stashed. A lucky coincidence? The odds were too slim. But the door jerked open, and they all lost the breath they were holding.

"What a fucking greeting", you muttered, dropping your helmet to the side. Soap moved toward you first. Simon would have loved to beat him to it, but he found himself sitting back down, his legs suddenly feeling wobbly. "Here", you yanked the chip from your vest, pushing it into Soap's hand. "Mission complete, captain", you eyed Price. Before moving to undo your gear. "How many?", John asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. The blood on your forehead was crusted. But the sound of drops hitting the wooden floor was constant. "Six", you breathed, moving to undo your vest, and that's when the first growl left your lips.

"You're bleeding", Johnny breathed, reaching for your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I'll lick my own wounds", your tone was cold. It was colder than it usually was. Ghost watched you slowly walk towards the stairs, but not before you had reached for the Bourbon. "I'll come to stitch you,", Price had called out, only to be harshly cut off with a harsh, "No".

You locked the doors behind yourself. Your vision was going hazy. You had managed to get away. You had no idea how because there had been a moment when you were sure that death was standing right behind your back, breathing at your neck. You had killed before, had blood sprayed all over you. Yet something about this felt different. Maybe it was the fact that there was a moment where you weren't the one in control. When they had managed to yank you across the floor by your ankle. You shivered at the image of a knife being jabbed on either side of you as you dodged blow after blow.

Your hands gripped the sink. You will do this. You will patch yourself up. Swallow a couple of pills and go to sleep. You knew there was no way you were getting your shirt off, so you wasted no time as you sliced the fabric with your pocket knife, wincing. Slowly peeling the damp material from your shoulder. Would this be easier if someone else did it for you? Yes. But you didn't want anyone's hands on you. Not now. Not when your brain was still fuzzy. The trickle of blood ran down your chest and through the sports bra you had on. You knew what followed next. You've done it multiple times. Drink bourbon. Splash some on the wound. Dig the fingers in to fish for the bullet. More bourbon. Stitch it up. You ran yourself through the steps one more time. One more look in the mirror before you force yourself to do just that.

Simon's hands were gripping the chair he was sitting on. Every little whimper from upstairs ripped at his composure. Stubborn girl, never knowing how to accept help. And a whimper, a whimper he could handle, but when a loud cry filled the quiet space, Simon was up and going. Every other step was skipped, and he was right in front of the second-floor bathroom. Hand on the handle as his shoulder hit the locked door. "Open up", Ghost banged his fist into the surface. "Go away", your voice was barely audible. Too long. He had sat downstairs for too long. He should have come barging in the moment you tried to play a big girl. Should have carried you back downstairs. "Don't make it bloody difficult", Simon's voice was husky. His own body ached, but he wasn't about to sit back and watch you bleed out.

You didn't answer him. "Sugar", he called out, "Open the fucking door, or I will break it", he wasn't even sure why he was bargaining with you now. But he respected your privacy. He always did. Even in the room you shared. His face was always facing the wall when he knew you were taking a shower. Just in case you had forgotten your clothes and would need to quickly get to your side of the room, this was different; his stalling could cost you your life. So he doesn't say anything else. Backing a couple of steps back, Simon braced himself for the impact. The hinges were old, so one shove from him was enough to break them; the rest he could handle with his two hands.

Ghost's breath hitched once more. "Stubborn, bloody woman", he hissed. The floor was covered in your blood; there was not a single clean towel. Your figure was slumped by the bath. "Price", his voice was more of a roar that made even you jerk your head up. "Get out", you breathed, trying to put distance between you two. "Like fuck, I will", Simon grunted, reaching towards you, his palm pressing into your shoulder. You cried out, your nails digging into his wrists, but the pressure didn't ease. "Fucking hell", the captain called from behind, "Get her downstairs".

"No", you hissed as Ghost lifted you, "Get away". But you knew that it was over now that they'd seen you. Simon tried to lower you down, but you whizzed in pain. "From the back", you say through gritted teeth. "What?", His eyes searched yours; you knew he was struggling to understand you. "The bullet", your breath, "from the back". Simon's eyes darted up to John, who slowly nodded his head, "Keep her up, then", and you could feel him pulling the rest of your shirt off.

"Liquid courage", a bottle was dangled right in front of you, and you could just about make out Soap's shaky hands. "I don't need it", you muttered, feeling the way Simon's chest rumbled with a disapproving growl. "Don't fight it, kid", Price called out from behind you, "You know how it's done". He was looking through the medical bag, no doubt making sure that he had everything he needed on hand. You open your mouth, and Soap quickly takes the hint, tilting the bottle upwards.

"Bite this and hold onto Simon's shoulders for me", the captain delivered his words like an order, but you still shook your head. "Jesus women, do you have a death wish or something?", Ghost muttered, hands moving from your legs that were still wrapped around his torso to your hands, pulling one of them over his shoulder and the other, the injured one, across his torso, so Price could work on it easier. But your palms stay pushed away from his skin. So does your chest. He was too close. You couldn't. Simon doesn't like his personal space being occupied by anyone.

"Deep breath for me", was the only last warning John gives you before you feel a pain like no other ripping through your back. And that was all it took. All it too, for your hands to clamp around Simon. Nails were in his skin as you yelled out, trying to pull away from whatever Price was doing. Simon's big palm cupped the back of your head, guiding you down onto his shoulder. "You got this, love", he muttered against your ear. The grip he had on you did not falter, not even for a second. "Almost there, Sug, just a bit more", Price said through gritted teeth. You could feel him digging through your back. The burning icy cold now.

Your body was working on its own accord. Hand reaching for the side of Ghost's face as another wave of pain ripped through you, making you holler out. Simon didn't pull away. And maybe you were high on pain, but you could swear you felt his lips against your palm. Kissing your skin through the material of his mask. Your breathing got shallow. You wanted to pull back to look up at him. Into his eyes. At least one more time. But your body felt heavy. Your fingers gently caressed the side of his face. The smell of him calmed you. You pressed a weak kiss against his neck, feeling a shiver running down his back.

"Keep her talking, Simon,", Price grumbled in frustration. Something probably wasn't going how it was supposed to. But it was okay. You had made your peace with it. "Come on, look at me", Simon pulled your limp head away from his shoulder, tapping your cheek a couple of times. "Keep your eyes open, eh? Or I'll leave my wet towels all over our room for the rest of the month", there was a tinge of something new in his voice. Some kind of light worry. Frustration. You blinked a couple of times, the corners of your lips turning upwards. "You wouldn't dare", you rasped out, your mouth feeling way too dry all of a sudden. "Why is that?", Simon asked straight away, his eyes not leaving yours. You let yourself breathe for a bit; you didn't have enough strength to answer right away. "I'll get you pink sheets and...", a cough made your body seize, and Ghost's grip on you tightened instantly. And there. There it was. A flash of worry caught his eye. "A fuzzy rug", you finished finally. Simon's palm ran over your sweaty forehead. "I'd like to see you try, darling", he breathed out, but there was no amusement in his voice.

"She's too fucking pale, Price", you heard Soap's voice from the side, or at least it sounded like it. "Shut up, Johnny,", the captain grumbled. "Don't close your eyes, Sugar", you felt another nudge from Ghost, making you blink up at him once more. "It's cold", you muttered, feeling your hand slip down his torso, falling limp by your leg. "John", Ghost said in a warning tone. He was trying to make you hold back on him, but your hand slipped away every time.

It was the way your hand limped against Simon's face that sent the last wave of panic through him. Your clammy skin pressed against him. And he was back there, back in the house where his family was killed. No, he couldn't lose you. Not now that he had found you. Not without you knowing that he also cared, just like everyone else. "Y/N", he called out softly. He had never called you by your real name. Never had a chance to see if your eyes would shimmer when he did. "Don't do this", he breathed again your not injured shoulder, "Don't you dare fucking die on me". But he was met with nothing. Only then did he realize that he would have to live with nothing but regret and your blood on his hands. All because he couldn't find a way to let your light shine through his cold demeanor. All because he was afraid of the fact that he had found himself caring again.

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost cod image #ghost cod x reader #cod imagine #cod x reader #simon riley x reader

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linmmelonz · 7 months ago

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Guess the Build Doubles Quotes Part One

“We love a good twist ‘round here” Joel

“I am notoriously good at this” Skizz

“It’s a real flood of vom” Martyn

“[the lizards] he loves-they’re like children to him” Joel

“He’s WIIIIIDE!” Joel

“Otherwise it looks like he’s a bit of a contortionist” Joel

“It’s not gone…well” Grian

“There’s a lotta noise in this melon buddy” Skizz

“A pizza…ITS A PIZZA!!” Jim

“What the great googly moogly is this?” Grian

“Right, this is as far as we can get without things getting weird.” Grian

“Long…philangies coming out the top” Grian

“You’ve forgot eleventeen!” Martyn

“SABOTAGE HIS VIDEO JOEL!” Grian

“We’re best buds! We will not sabotage!” Joel

“When someone says: ‘there’s no such thing as perfect’ you just say: ‘the other side of the pillow’” Grian

“Su-phea what’s a su-phea?” Joel

“They’re stupid” Joel

“Yeah, yeah, um. Listen. Do your best. Lateral thinking here Jim!” Grian

“I just saw it-it jus-IT HAPPENED OK?!?” Skizz

“He looks absolutely baffled. He’s never seen that block in his life.” Jim

“He’s like ‘what is this dude? What is this man? I’ve never seen this block man before man! Grian what are you giving me man?’” Joel

“QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK!!! YELLOW, BIG, DONE!!!” Grian

“I am all busted up here.” Skizz

“Skizz doesn’t process information as fast as the rest of us” Grian

“Right so this is a bit of a puzzle” Grian

“You-you made us do equations!” Jim

“HE KNEW WHAT IT WAS AND HE LET ME BUILD THIS!” Grian

“Let’s agree. That was a disaster.” Jim

“No but genuinely what the heck is this thing?” Joel

“Oh! What are you doing back here???” Joel

“It’s far better than wizard pig” Grian

“Oh my god” Grian

“Gravity is a bit stronger and that Jim” Grian

“It’s not really important I’m just teaching you a lesson” Grian

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expresso-bean · 5 days ago

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The Man Out of Time [A ShadAmy and Silver Story]: Chapter 24

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Amy Rose

Description: It has been seven years of peace following the grueling war with Eggman and his army. Though it took time to rebuild what they have lost, life for the Freedom Fighters could not be better. Whether it's finding love or trying to run from their past, celebrating post-war times has been different for each them.

All is well until a silver hedgehog comes knocking on Amy Rose's door to deliver the tragic news about an incredible force that seems to be the cause of the future's destruction.

Will anyone believe the mysterious hedgehog's cry for help? Or will he be left to fight for his future alone? Read to find out!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k

POV: Amy Rose

Masterlist ❀ Ch.1 ❀ Ch.2 ❀ Ch.3 ❀ Ch.4 ❀ Ch.5 ❀ Ch.6 ❀ Ch.7 ❀ Ch.8 ❀ Ch.9 ❀ Ch.10 ❀ Ch.11 ❀ Ch.12 ❀ Ch.13 ❀ Ch.14 ❀ Ch.15 ❀ Ch.16 ❀ Ch.17 ❀ Ch.18 ❀ Ch.19 ❀ Ch.20 ❀ Ch.21 ❀ Ch.22 ❀ Ch.23

'He's acting strange.'

I couldn't bear to take another step away from my home. I huffed as I sat down on the doorstep. The noise of the chaos happening around me made my eyes want to swell up with tears.

'What's the point in crying now? Training hasn't even begun yet!' I wanted to look up. But I knew what I would see would only break me apart tenfold. 'I just hope I'm not too rusty after all these years. Doing odd jobs and keeping up with a physical training regime have kept me battle ready for the most part. Although, I have been neglecting it since S came around.'

The sounds of cars racing off and Tails' muffled voice forced my eyes to pry themselves forward. As I thought, what was before me was nothing short of a disaster.

Crying children holding their mothers hands. Said mothers looking on in distraught as they tried to quickly move around for more things to gather into boxes and cars.

Others were on the phones looking stressed.

Elderly folks were sitting on chairs in front of the houses that would soon be destroyed. I could see people like Knuckles, Rouge, and Shadow going in and out of house or running about in the streets checking for items.

All of it will be destroyed. Or so does the future determine.

"Don't worry. Rebuilding will commence as soon as everything is back to normal!" Tails voiced boomed through the streets as little floating devices scanned each individual home from different angles several times over. "Everything is okay! Panic will only prolong the process!"

'If only it was that simple. I couldn't imagine myself in their situation.' I shook my head as I looked on at the array of people. The more I stared. The more I understood that I am like them. Bound to this future. Desperate and dependent to change in the best way possible. Although it feels impossible, there comes the slow realization that there is no other choice but to follow those orders. If they say 'pack it up', you pack. They yell 'run', you run. But none of us can tell them to fight. We can't. We exist to ensure they never have to worry about having to fight a force that is beyond what they can handle. 'That feeling. It must be...'

"Awful," I kept my voice to a whisper. "It's awful. This is all awful..."

I stared down at the gray pavement ahead of me. I could do nothing but clenched my fists from the frustration building up inside. After all, it wasn't at all fair. To anyone. That's why we fought so far the first time around. Nothing like this was ever supposed to happen again.

Yet. Here everyone is. Preparing for it to happen again.

'That was the fate of this timeline. My neighborhood destroyed. My friends, gone. Me.' I looked down at my hands. 'Dead.'

I made a promise to not let that happen. Therefore, it won't.

'Well, I can't make good on any of my promises by just sitting here! I hope no one noticed I was gone for too long.'

As I got up, I stretched my arms upwards toward the sky. Instant relief spread through my muscles when I exhaled.

'I can do this! I've done worst missions before.' I took off a rubber elastic tie off my wrist and gathered my quills into a pony tail. 'I should trim this. If the elastic breaks in the middle of a battle it'll be impossible to fight.'

I looked back at my front door. There was nothing by silence.

'He'll... be right outside, right?' I lingered by the door for a second before stepped down from the doorstep. 'Not that it wasn't unusual that he would just come into my home to talk to me, but this time felt... different.'

I was surprised that no one paid any mind to me walking about. They all looked to be in their owns heads or trying to gather items to stuff them in their vehicles as best they can. My beautiful neighborhood seemed to be reduced to shambles. The once happy, friendly faces I would see in the mornings looked scared. I nearly wanted to cry and the thought of the cherry trees being burnt to crisps.

'It'll take years to get them to look this beautiful again!'

"Amy?" Cream came rushing toward me. She grabbed me by the arms and shook me a bit. "You're here! Tails said S was looking for you, is everything okay?"

I was a bit taken aback by her concerned reaction. Cream has always been one to overly worry about me, to which the feeling was mutual.

"S is looking for me? I haven't seen him," I looked around me again. S was nowhere to be seen. "In fact, I was talking to Sonic. he just stopped by to talk to me."

"Where is he?"

We both snapped our heads towards Sally, who looked like she was going to burst into tears. I hadn't realized she was standing near us loading things into a white truck as my neighbor Mr. Song, an elderly fox gentleman, watched from the front seat.

'He's leaving...?'

Mr. Song moved to the neighborhood after the war. This place was the part of the city that got hit the hardest and one of the first neighborhoods that were completely rebuilt. It was Mr. Song's idea to plant an abundance of fruit trees around for the residents to enjoy while rations were low.

Seeing them loaded up in the truck shocked me. Yet, I couldn't blame them. No one thought another war would ever come. Cowering in a bunker was not for everyone, especially a young child and an elderly man.

'I wonder where they will go? Maybe to Carter's father's house? But that's so far. He lives on the other side of the state!'

"Amy?"

"Huh? I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to zone out like that! What did you say?"

Sally looked distressed by shook off my comment. I smiled at her nervously as she loaded up two other boxes into the truck.

"What happened to Sonic? He just up at left two days ago and know I find out he came to see you! What's going on with him?"

'Two days? How come I didn't notice?'

"Y-yeah, I-I couldn't tell you, he-he just worried about me and this WHOLE situation we are in."

Sally sighed as she loaded the last few boxes into the moving vehicle. She jumped up and grabbed a hold of a white rope before pulling down on it. I flinched at how loud the door slammed down.

'I can't tell if she's angry or not,' I watched as she secured the latch and dusted off her hands. Cream looked up at me, shrugging. 'Neither can she.'

"Hey kid, do you have the lock?"

"Yeah!" The passenger door opened, revealing Mr. Song's young grandson, Carter. "Here it is! Don't worry, my granddad has the key!"

She nodded and put the lock on the door. She tugged on it before tapping on the metal door. Carter looked towards Mr. Song and nodded.

"Thank you, Miss!" As he was leaving toward the truck, he turned his head and locked eyes on me. "AMY!" Carter rushed toward me and Cream, making her move out of the way as the boy stood in front of us. "I was hoping you would show! I'm gonna miss you and the cookies you make!"

"Oh," I looked down at him. I tried to match his bright smile, but I'd be lying to myself if seeing him leave made me upset. "So I was right. You and your grandfather really are moving."

"My dad wants us to go live with him. He says it's too dangerous to stay," Carter crossed his arms dramatically and pouted. "I told him I don't want to leave. Being neighbors with a Freedom Fighter is so cool!"

"I'm sorry you have to go, But hey, my door is always open. I'll make you whatever you'd like if you ever come by to see me."

Carter's arms came undone and his mouth immediately curled back up into a smile.

"You mean it?"

"Of course! How can I turn down my number one fan?"

"Aw! Cool!"

I could hear Mr. Song knocking on the door of the truck. Carter looked back and jolted up a bit.

"Coming!" He turned and yelled. He turned back around and looked at me again. Although he was smiling, his eyes looked as pouty as ever. "I'm gonna miss you, Amy! I'll try and visit!"

"I'll miss you both too."

Carter turned and ran back to the truck and crawled into the passenger seat from the open window. I held back a laugh as he jumped back into the car from the open window on the passenger side.

I caught a glimpse of Mr. Song as he backed out of the driveway. They stopped in the middle of the street to let some of the other residents cross.

"Bye Carter, bye Mr. Song!"

I saw him nod from the visor window and waved at him, hoping he'd at least see that last gesture.

'I hope things go well for them.' I could only watch as they drove off. 'I think it's for the best they get out of a place like this.'

"Are you okay, Amy?"

"I'm fine, just a bit sad, I guess."

"He was the man who helped plant those trees, right? For the children during ration time?"

I nodded at Cream's comment. Sonic, Tails, and Cream were the only ones that stuck with me while we went around rebuilding the neighborhoods. Others like Shadow, Sally, Knuckles, and Rouge went their own separate ways. It wasn't until four years ago that we all came back together and decided that it would be a good idea to live near each other in case of an emergency.

'I never thought it would amount to anything like this.'

"I had no idea. I forgot you all helped rebuild most of Mobius," Sally shook her head as she hugged herself slightly. That three-year period we were all separated was hard on everyone. "At least, most of you did."

"Well, it isn't like you had a choice. You had to go back to the Acorn Kingdom."

"Yeah!" Cream interjected. "If you hadn't gone back, half of Mobius would still be in ruin!"

"I suppose you're right," Sally tried to laugh off. Her smile was a bit to wide, like she was forcing her mouth ajar to appear happy. But she couldn't fool me. I've been trying just as hard to appear as happy as she is right now for months. "I'm just beating myself up for not being here with you all."

"It's best to not be so hard on yourself like that. None of us could have guessed what we had in store for us after the war."

Sally didn't say anything while she stood there, hands wrapped around ther forearms rubbing them up and down slowly. It was almost as if she was trying to console herself.

'Is she okay? Why is she only bringing this kind of stuff up now?'

"Amy?"

"Hm?"

"About what we were talking about?"

"W-what was it again?" I scratched my head and sighed. "Was it about Sonic?"

"Is he okay?"

Her tone was dead serious. Her hands were no longer trying to self-sooth, but her fists were balled and nearly pinned to her side.

'What do I even say? I can't confess this to them! What if he hears? What if someone else hears and they tell him! It will ruin EVERYTHING!'

"I-I, I don't know," I managed to whimper out without stuttering too badly. "H-he looked tired. But I had no idea was gone for so long."

"Oh," She looked down again. I could see from the corner of my eyes that Cream looked mildly uncomfortable about discussing Sonic. "It's alright. I thought if he would have told anyone he would have mentioned something to you."

"Why to me?"

At looked at Sally. She opted to avert her gaze as she rubbed up her arms again.

'What is up with her? She seems scared. Or maybe, nervous?'

I would have liked to have thought that Sally and I mended our relationship after my whole obsession. When it was time to go visit her for the first time at Acorn Palace, all I could do was apologize to her. It took a year for her to sit me down and sincerely tell me that she accepted my apology. Sometimes, I still feel there is a veil of awkwardness and resentment whenever we discuss Sonic. I can't help but feel she still holds some anger toward me.

Not that it would be entirely undeserved. I know how mean I have been in my past.

"Well, Sonic, he, um, he trusts you more than himself at times."

'He does?'

"Um..." Cream waved her hand between us. I looked down at her, confused. Sally didn't avert her eyes away from the ground, not even to look at Cream. "I-I'm going to keep helping Tails, I-I-I'll see you both later!"

"Bye...?"

I watched her walk up to where Tails was scanning over some documents. She whispered something to him, to which he nodded and looked back at us.

'I wonder what she's telling him...'

"So, you thought about the same thing, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I can't blame anyone for feeling off. This whole thing. I never thought I would ever have to fight again."

"Can't disagree with you there."

"Amy!"

"S?" As he jogged over to me, I noticed Sonic trailing behind him. "Oh, Sonic-"

"Sonic!" Sally ran toward him, practically tackling him to the ground. "You're okay! What happened?"

He smiled at her as she held her face and littered her face with kisses. S tried his best to look away without seeming rude.

'Ha, I forgot that he is still a teenage boy in spite of all of this going on.'

"I'm sorry I had to leave, I'll explain it to you later, I promise," Sally could only nod. I noticed that the moment Sonic took her hands off her, she gave him that same blank expression she gave me not too long ago. Whatever was bothering her undoubtedly had to do with him. "Let's get all these people situated in their homes."

"Its about time you all show up," Knuckles walked toward us, pointing at me with his fist. "What took you guys so long?"

"Sorry! I didn't mean to show up late!"

"So what if we're late? This isn't her or anyone else fault." Sonic put his hand on my shoulder and lightly pushed me behind him. I nearly would have bumped into S if it weren't for him lightly directing me next to him. "What matters is that we're here now. The only way we can get this done is if we work together."

"Right."

Sonic nodded at everyone's almost, unanimous response. I could see from behind him Shadow crossing his arms.

Say what you will about him, Sonic knows how to inspire people. He speaks with a voice so powerful that you can't help but listen.

'I am lucky to have him in my life.'

Sometimes, I want to laugh at myself for how I used to chase after Sonic.

So many hopeless nights, I would stay up and wait for him to swoop me up from my bed and take me to a place only he could show me.

'Oh, and the diary! I'm glad I tossed it out when I did! I wish I could go back and burn it.'

Those are the kind of childish romances I hold close to my heart. The kind that hurts in the moment but can look back on and smile as your mind cringes at the outlandish antics you've committed to get that one person to notice you.

It wasn't all for nothing.

Chasing him made me faster.

Fighting others to prove myself to him made me stronger.

Winning that war ensured peace for my friends.

I gained more than I ever lost. I could not be more grateful for that.

'I know I sacrificed my entire life to get Sonic to notice me,' I shook my head, looking down towards the ground. 'Got beat up a bunch. I fought in a war. I embarrassed myself in front of everyone that I knew,' I couldn't help but close my eyes and cringe once again. My body warmed itself with the awful secondhand embarrassment I caused for myself. 'I'm just glad that whole era is over! If not,' I couldn't help but smile. It was the only way to prevent the blush I knew that would eventually appear on my face. 'Someone I know I can give my everything too,' As soon as I turned to look his way, I was only able to catch a glimpse of his back turned toward me. 'If he can bother to look my way, that is.'

"Amy, catch!" I didn't even look toward Tails as I instinctively reached out my arms to grab the four or so stacked boxes. My knees buckled slightly at the new weight I suddenly had in my hands. "Get this to house '12' please! Then, I need you to help clear out those blue and yellow houses!"

I sighed, and smiled at Tails nervous as I whispered, "right away."

'I need to get out of my own head for a bit.'

The sky was getting dark with there barely being enough light to walk home without the street lights on. We dragged our feet beneath us in silence as we reached my home.

Sonic, Knuckles, Rouge, and Cream were lying next to each other, almost in a pile.

I was holding Sally by the arm as we joined them. Sally laid her head on Sonic's leg as I sat down next to Cream.

'It feels like we've done this a thousand times over...' I lay down next to her; my eyes stared up at the sky. I watched as the barely visible clouds graze across the dark blue background. I heard Cream whisper my name, I couldn't muster a response to her. Only a single thought danced in my head: 'I would sacrifice anything for this war to end like this.'

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simpingcowboy · 1 year ago

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Pedro boys and why I'm swiping left on their tinders

This is all to be silly!! I love them all very much <3

Frankie Morales

His name there says Frankie (Catfish)....with his main profile picture being him holding you guessed it...a catfish. He doesn't have many other photos on there, with the exception of a few older military photos that are so blurry you can hardly tell which one he's meant to be.

The rest of his page is pretty empty aside from the music section, where you actually get the first real glimpse at what this man is about. While his music selection is very respectable, it does not overshadow the glaring issues with his profile.

In short, Frankie's profile makes you think "Am I dating the man? The fish? Or a catfish?" Swiping left fs.

Marcus Moreno

This one isn't his fault! His profile is perfect. No really. All the women at The Heroics made sure to help him with it! His photos are cute and show off all his best assets. The bio is a little cheesy in an endearing "yeah he's definitely a dad" way. The problem then? It's Marcus fucking Moreno!!! Leader of the Heroics!!!!!! On Tinder???? There's no way anyone is going to believe it's really him. I believe there's a verification option on Tinder now, but really...even then Idk. Unless he fully comes out on an interview or something to super casually mention he's on Tinder, it just ain't working. No one likes a catfish! (Sorry Frankie!)

Jack Daniels

Mr. "Tinder What?" himself!!!! Let's say he manages to figure out how to set up a profile and all that. It's gonna be inTERESTING to say the least. His photos are actually pretty solid. An intriguing mix of photos of him on the ranch and photos of him in the Statesmen HQ looking very well put together. Opening line is definitely "Save a Horse! Ride a Cowboy! 🤠♥️" Very on brand for him. Followed by something very pro-american about the flag or serving his country and honestly... that's where I'm gone 😅. We get to see a bit of Jack's political mind in Kingsman and let's just say i don't wanna know the rest of it.

I'm grateful this is Tinder and not Bumble. Because if Jack used the audio prompt and I heard that smooth Kentucky accent...forget EVERYTHING I just said. I would be taking a chance on him. Sorry 😔 I can't fix him, but I will have fun trying!!

Joel Miller

For namesake, we're gonna set this pre-outbreak. There's no time for swiping in the apocalypse. Profile isn't bad just very empty. He's not really trying and it's kinda obvious. His bio reads something along the lines of "Single dad of a spoiled teen" with mostly photos of himself and Sarah on his profile. A few photos of him and Tommy out camping or on a work site.

And as handsome as he is, the profile feels like something his kid forced him to make as a way of getting him off her back. I wanna sympathize and help her out, but I don't know I have the heart to attempt to win over this very clearly emotionally unavailable DILF. So for that reason, I'm swiping left.

Pero Tovar

If for some ungodly reason Pero was given Internet access and had a dating profile... it'd be a disaster. His bio reads something along the lines of "I don't open this app. If you wish to see me meet me at this pub" with approximate days and times he's there.

The first picture on his profile is a way too far away blurry shot of him training. If I was feeling brave enough to continue scrolling through his photos...the rest would certainly be borderline explicit highly suggestive photos of his torso and groin. And whilst I might think about it for approximately .25 seconds any remaining sense of dignity would kick in before I actually did anything about it. It'll sting momentarily, but I will be swiping left.

Ezra

Another man on this list who should absolutely NOT be given internet access. His photos are beautiful but uninformative...the only shots of him are blurred and artistically obscure. He pads the rest of his profile with photos of books he's reading and grainy shoots of the forest.

The bio...if there's a word limit best believe that Ezra has hit it. He used every given character at his disposal and managed to say very little with all of it. Something about a wandering spirit longing for companionship and a couple sexual innuendos for good measure.

While visually and verbally not the worst profile on this list, his pretension is so utterly palpable through the screen I actually don't think I'd be able to make it through the end of his bio without cringing...also his music selection is all just banjo instrumental???

#am writes #pedro pascal #pedro boys #ezra prospect #pero tovar #joel miller #jack Daniels #marcus moreno #frankie morales #pedro pascal characters

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vickyvicarious · 5 months ago

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He was still in the strait-waistcoat and in the padded room, but the suffused look had gone from his face, and his eyes had something of their old pleading—I might almost say, "cringing"—softness. I was satisfied with his present condition, and directed him to be relieved. [...] It was soothing, somehow, to the feelings to find myself dissociated even in the mind of this poor madman from the others; but all the same I do not follow his thought. Am I to take it that I have anything in common with him, so that we are, as it were, to stand together; or has he to gain from me some good so stupendous that my well-being is needful to him? I must find out later on. To-night he will not speak. Even the offer of a kitten or even a full-grown cat will not tempt him. [...] I wish I could get some clue to the cause. It would almost seem as if there was some influence which came and went. Happy thought! We shall to-night play sane wits against mad ones. He escaped before without our help; to-night he shall escape with it. We shall give him a chance, and have the men ready to follow in case they are required….

More of Seward being an absolute disaster today. Like, it's possible to see his train of thought... it's just very subjective and personal and super unethical.

He doesn't release Renfield from the padded room/straightjacket until the man is performing subservience for him again. Sure, it's also that he's not being actively violent, but the way he says "he was cringing, I was satisfied" leaves a sour taste in the mouth.

When Renfield goes "ha, as if I could ever hurt you" Seward is flattered. His hurt feelings of yesterday/a week ago (timeline weirdness!) are soothed. However, he tries to remain more objective and analyze why he gets special treatment now. He doesn't really like the idea that Renfield feels any commonality with him; this is something we've seen Seward quite conscious of in the past, his own atypical mind and how it may be close to 'madness'. He wonders also if Renfield is just trying to get something from him. In the past he's not quite realized just how successfully Renfield has manipulated him, and it's kind of hilarious how Seward's immediate impulse here is to offer up what he thinks Renfield wants. If the guy were still trying for a cat, he'd be on the right track it seems.

But also, the fact that Seward offered a full-grown cat is really alarming. In the past, he did bring that up first, yes. But it was in the context of Renfield asking for a kitten, Seward promising nothing, but inquiring if he would rather have the adult. He never actually made any offers, and in fact that was his line in the sand that ended up halting the initial animal cultivation experiments. He refused to give a cat or kitten, thinking that would be going too far - though he was tempted for a cause to justify it. Here, he just makes the offer for either one! No cause in sight!

And at the end, he makes another wildly unprofessional choice to give Renfield the opportunity to escape to see what he will do. Quite aside from the fact that he's not supposed to be allowing patients to run away, Seward himself begins the both the main entry and this later part by saying Renfield was violent for days (three in this later bit - should this be two separate entries and we are missing a week, then three more days, or was Stoker considering only a 3-day gap from yesterday? timeline weirdness! but regardless, it's still been days). Sure, he's calmer by night and that's when he plans to release him, but this is opening up himself to potential legal trouble as well as Renfield/potential passersby to physical danger (or even himself or the attendants; Renfield is a strong guy and who knows if he might fight back harder this time or pick up a weapon). He's also treating Renfield like nothing but an experiment, with no consideration for things such as how the last time he got out and went to the chapel his mental health took an immediate and prolonged dive. He's not treating Renfield like a person. And for all he's veered dramatically towards seeing him as a potential threat in the past, he's not treating him like one either here.

It's something he absolutely should not be doing in any way. And yet... he wants to know, so he's doing it. Just like he wanted to see if Renfield would respond to better bribery, so he just casually stepped over the line he'd drawn to offer him a cat. Even if he never intended to actually deliver on that offer, making it was cruel and showed his morals aren't really affecting his decision-making much at all right now. And that's only further proven by the release-and-catch plan. Sure, he doesn't actually intend for Renfield to really get away (they'll be right there to catch him) - but that's already going way, way too far.

Seward doesn't mention his own sleep this entry, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's not slept properly or even at all in days. Not that that's an excuse, but... I can't imagine he isn't sleep-deprived to hell during all this.

#dracula daily #jack seward #he's. a. MESS.

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hitching-hyacinth · 10 months ago

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Did someone order a loyal knight with a bad cold and his prince who loves him dearly trying to get him to rest for once in his life? Here’s 4k words of that, please enjoy these guys who barged into my head and won’t leave

—

As if negotiations in Halfford hadn’t gone poorly enough, Prince Robin thought, bouncing about uncomfortably in the back of his carriage, Sir Harper had started to catch cold a couple days into the journey home. Off of the Duke’s snot-nosed son, Robin had no doubt. The brat practically hung off Harper’s shirt all week, as if he were a fawning child rather than a man hardly any younger than Harper.

Harper made his ailment utterly unobtrusive, as always, his service unfailing. Any other company might not have realized he was ill at all. But Robin knew him too well to miss the edge of fatigue to his practiced smile, the soft sighs when he didn’t realize Robin was listening, the sneezes muffled into his cape just too often to pass off as coincidence.

And Robin knew him too well to say anything. Harper blamed himself for the disaster this trip had become, even if he didn’t want Robin to see as much. As if he ought to have prevented the storm that stalled them four days on the way to Halfford, or Duke Edward’s foul mood at the delay. With Harper on edge as he was, Robin didn’t have the words to ask after him without Harper taking it as a critique. He blamed his friend’s father for that. The old bastard was just the sort to wield “are you quite well?” as a blunt weapon.

Robin was in far too sour a mood for tact. On another day, he would walk beside the carriage and talk with Harper, but given the circumstances, he was better off sulking with the luggage. Even if he wound up with a bruise or two, he didn’t have to try so hard to bite his tongue with the creaks and clangs of the cart on the uneven road making conversation difficult already.

“It’s getting dark,” Harper called back. There was a fresh rasp to his voice accompanying the mounting congestion that marred his m’s and n’s. The poor man ought not to shout so. “If we press, we may reach an inn not long after sundown, but…”

“Let’s camp here.” Robin shifted carefully, extracting himself from the corner of the cart he’d wedged himself into. He didn’t want Harper doing any pressing.

“Very well, my lord.” A note of relief in Harper’s voice, well-masked but perceptible. The cart rumbled to a stop and creaked loudly as Harper stepped down from the driver’s seat.

Robin followed suit and crawled from the back of the cart, stretching out stiff and aching limbs. He really did prefer to walk. He circled around, intending to offer help, but paused when he saw Harper seize a fistful of his cape and bring it close to his face. His shoulders rose with his breath, once, twice—

Harper ducked into a rough, throaty sneeze, muffled harshly by the thick wool of his cape.

“Bless you.” Even that much, Robin worried would be unwelcome.

“Ah—tha’k you.” Harper dragged his cape roughly under his nose and sniffed with a determined finality. He smiled. “I am glad to see you in one piece after being tossed about like a sack of flour. What draws you to ride in the cart on roads like this, I can’t understand.” He set to unyoking the horses, leaving Robin to trail uselessly behind him.

“It isn’t so bad without armor clanging about you.” Robin rubbed his arms.

“Hah.” Harper lifted the yoke from the horses’ shoulders, a quick flash of pain crossing his face when the weight settled in his right arm. Was his shoulder bothering him, too? It was awfully cold this far north. “There’s no need to lie to me, my lord. I only wish I could give you privacy with a little more comfort.”

Robin huffed a laugh. “Alas, you are no magician. I am merely grateful my father didn’t insist on sending an entourage after us.” And he was, truly, whatever Harper might have thought. It isn’t as if thirty men could have fought off a storm that Harper couldn’t.

“Your father’s men don’t know how to leave you well enough alone,” Harper agreed, but Robin didn’t miss the doubt that flickered across his face. He set down the yoke and glanced at Robin. “Are you warm enough? The cold comes on quickly out here.”

Robin dropped his hands from his arms. “Perhaps not.” The wind was beginning to creep through the linen of his shirt without the canvas walls of the cart to block it.

“Allow me to fetch your cloak.” Harper strode past before Robin could insist on fetching his cloak himself. It was likely best to let him help, anyhow. If small, unneeded favors were what he needed to prove himself, there was no reason to protest.

Harper returned promptly with Robin’s favorite travel cloak over one arm—a thick red one, almost long enough to drag on the ground, made when Robin was young enough that there was hope he’d grow taller. “I hope you are well, my lord,” he said, fastening the cloak over Robin’s shoulders.

It took Robin a moment to process the question. “I—am. For the most part.”

Harper smiled, honest despite the tired weight to it. “I’m glad. It can be hard to tell, when you draw away from me, when I should start to worry. I hope you will never feel lonely when I am with you.”

And he squeezed Robin’s shoulder and returned to the back of the cart like he hadn’t just stung Robin senseless. He’d made Harper worry for him all this time. Since they first arrived in Halfford, no doubt, and Robin had spent every evening too exhausted by the Duke’s temper to do more than sulk in his guest room and tell Harper to explore the city without him. Harper understood, as Harper always understood, but it was hardly any wonder he’d gotten tense. Robin could be a dense little brat sometimes, he thought bitterly.

A wrenching, tightly muffled sneeze pulled Robin back to himself. He moved around to the back of the cart, where Harper had paused in tying down the rear flap to press his fingers to his temples, exhaustion written plainly on his face. The red cast of his nose was no longer faint, and the poor thing was starting to swell under Harper’s rough treatment.

“Bless you,” Robin said, anxiety creeping foolishly up his neck. Talking to Harper ought to be the easiest thing in the world. Damn this trip, damn Duke Edward, and damn Robin’s own idiocy.

The exhaustion all but vanished from Harper’s expression as he looked up and gave a quick thanks, carrying on with the canvas.

Robin twisted the edge of his cloak between his fingers and dared to ask, “Sir Harper, are you well?”

Harper paused his work for just a moment, too briefly to be noticed by anyone paying the slightest bit less attention than Robin. “I may have caught a chill back in Halfford,” he admitted, his tone carefully flat. “Do not concern yourself, my lord.”

“I shall concern myself if I like,” Robin said before he could think better of it.

Harper pulled a rope taught with a fair bit more force than seemed necessary and barked a laugh. “Of course, my lord.” He sniffed, sharp and wet, and tied off the rope, securing the canvas flap over the open back of the cart. He climbed inside without another word and started shifting things around, laying out their bedrolls and moving fallen luggage aside.

Robin sighed and leaned against the cart, pulling his cloak tight around himself. He’d misstepped already. A cold. What an absurdly unremarkable, temporary affliction to regret. As if anybody could think less of Harper for such a thing. For falling ill, for bowing to the weather. Robin could think of a few sharp words for Harper’s father, though he doubted they would do any good.

He watched the darkening sky as Harper bustled around in the cart. Some clouds were forming to the east—might it rain? The roads would be hell tomorrow if it did. Perhaps they ought to have pushed on to the inn after all.

“Does it look like rain to you?” Robin asked as Harper emerged from the carriage. He’d stripped his cape, tabard, and heavy mail, leaving him in trousers and a tunic with his sword tied around his waist.

Harper glanced up to the east, briefly pressing a gloved knuckle under his nose. “Ah—yes, most likely.” He smiled. “Worry not, my lord. You will stay quite dry in the cart.”

Robin bit his lip. “Yes, but the roads will—I will stay dry?”

“We will.” Harper sniffled and laid a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Worry not. I am hardly infirm. I shall handle the roads tomorrow, whatever condition they may be in.”

“Of course you shall.” Robin sighed, studying Harper’s face, the faint lines of exhaustion his best efforts can’t erase. “I do not doubt your capability, but…it has been a long journey.”

“It has.” Harper squeezed Robin’s shoulder briefly and let go, looking away. Was Robin staring? “Rest in the cart. I will take care of camp and fetch you when there is dinner.”

That isn’t what Robin meant at all, but already Harper was striding away towards the horses. Robin followed him, almost jogging to keep up with his long, quick steps. “No. I will accompany you.”

“No need.” Harper didn’t slow, nor turn to Robin. “You are exhausted. Rest for tomorrow.” There was a clipped insistence to his tone so uncharacteristic that Robin was almost hurt until Harper brought both hands to his face and smothered a sneeze that seemed to tear through him and take a piece with it, leaving him staggered slightly with a few short, harshly constrained coughs.

“Bless you, Sir.” Robin took the opportunity to overtake Harper and reach the horses first. Of course—poor Harper hadn’t had a moment’s privacy since they’d left Halfford. If Robin couldn’t convince him to let his guard down before him, he could at least give him a few moments alone. “I assure you, I am quite capable of watering the horses myself. We shall both to bed sooner if I help.” He took both horses’ leads without waiting for a response and clicked at them to follow.

“…very well, my lord.” If Harper was trying to disguise the relief in his voice, he didn’t manage it very well. He sniffed thickly and dropped his hands from his face. “The river is a short way south of here.” He pointed, but Robin could hear the rushing water already.

Robin nodded. “I shall return soon.”

And he led the horses off. This was absurd. Why should the two of them play these games even when alone? Harper’s father was not here to scold him, nor anybody who might report to him or the King. Why should decorum prevent Robin from speaking frankly with his dearest friend? He ought to order Harper to rest as much as he was able.

The river was further than Robin anticipated, and by the time he returned night had all but fallen, the air damp and bitterly cold, and the rain clouds in the east were unmistakably nearer. At least he was able to spare Harper the trek—the fool would have left without his cloak—but he was relieved nonetheless to see a fire roaring already by the time he returned, a steaming pot hung over it. He secured the horses and joined Harper beside it on a fallen log, noting with pleasure that Harper had remembered himself and donned a cloak.

“Back at last, my lord?” Harper smiled at Robin as he sat down, a touch of mischief in his expression. “I had forgotten how much longer a walk can be on shorter legs.”

Robin shoved his shoulder, gasping in mock offense. “You know perfectly well how quickly I walk.”

“How slowly.” Harper’s grin flashed into a grimace and he turned away from Robin, lifting a fistful of his cloak to his face. His breath wavered perilously for a moment, and he crumpled, smothering a heavy sneeze into the fabric.

“Bless you.” He sounded worse, Robin thought.

Harper coughed roughly before recovering his breath. “Hah. Tha’k you.” An attempt at sniffling audibly caught in stuffed-shut sinuses and Harper cleared his throat, such an unmistakeably unwell sound that Robin wanted to drag him to the cart to sleep and damn his feelings on the matter.

“What do you think of breaking into that mead the Duke refused?” he said instead. “My father won’t expect it back, and it seems a fine night to warm ourselves up.” And perhaps a bit of drink would help ease Harper’s nerves.

“If you’d like.” Harper tipped the pot over the fire towards him with a ladle, his other hand keeping the hem of his cloak pressed under his nose. “Though I hope you don’t need drink to find my company tolerable.”

Robin laughed. “Simply unbearable, being alone with the likes of you. It’s near enough to make me miss Duke Edward’s hospitality.” He stood and brushed dirt from the back of his cloak. “I simply can’t face a sober evening with company who prefers me to a horse’s ass.”

That earned a huff of laughter from Harper. “I’ve been looking at a horse’s ass all day. You’re a far better sight.”

“He doesn’t mean it, Dapple,” Robin called to the horse in question, who flicked an ear in utter disinterest. He patted her side on his way back to the cart.

It was dark inside the cart with the rear flap blocking out the firelight, but it was easy enough to find the mead, bundled up in a spare cloth and tied to the side of the cart to ensure it didn’t bounce around and break. There ought to be some handkerchiefs about, too. Robin recalled seeing a couple at the bottom of his bag, so he took a moment to dig them out.

When he returned to the campfire, Harper had taken the pot off the fire and was doling out stew to travel bowls. Robin offered a handkerchief without a word.

Harper took it with a nod of thanks and swiped quickly under his nose, though by the sound of things that wasn’t nearly enough.

The stew was fine enough, good for being scrounged together from diminishing fresh supplies. Harper called it a last proper meal before returning to dried meat and stale crackers. The mead was better. Robin’s father wasn’t one to spare expenses when it came to obsequious gifts.

“The one gift the Duke’s given us,” Robin said after the two were halfway through the bottle.

Harper snorted. “His generosity shall not go unremembered.” He took a swig from the bottle, then passed it urgently back to Robin. “Pardon—” His breath caught and he twisted away from Robin, though the sneeze seemed to toy with him, keeping his breath hitching uncertainly for several seconds before tearing out of him with a vocal desperation that almost startled Robin.

“Bless you.”

“Ngh.” Belatedly, Harper lifted the handkerchief to his face and blew his nose hard, though, by the sound of it, not to much effect. “Blast this cold.”

He must have been feeling calmer if he was complaining, Robin noted with pleasure. Though whether that was thanks to the mead or to dinner and company, he couldn’t guess. “Poor thing,” he said as lightly as he could manage, rubbing Harper’s shoulder.

Harper huffed, with laughter or irritation. “You needn’t tease me, my lord.”

“I’m not!” With feigned offense, Robin set the bottle on the ground to fold his arms. Harper picked it idly back up. “Can’t a man express his sympathies for a friend?”

“Of course, my lord.” Harper took another swig. “But as I’ve said, you need not worry.”

“Need not worry, need not worry!” However much the mead was touching Harper, Robin was feeling a touch bolder. “Perhaps I want to worry, Har. You aren’t acting like yourself.”

Harper grinned, visibly biting back a laugh. “You’re acting plenty like yourself.” Robin squinted. “Fussy and overprotective.”

Robin scoffed, almost offended. “Overprotective! Says Sir ‘rest in the cart while I do the work of thirty men!’”

“Thirty men!” Harper laughed properly at that until his breath caught in his throat and pulled him double in a coughing fit. “Thirty, Robin, really?” he croaked as soon as his breath allowed.

“My father would send thirty.”

Harper drank again, calming the cough. “Your father really is overprotective.”

Robin could hardly argue with that. He shifted closer and leaned into Harper’s side. “Honestly, what’s the matter?”

“You got me drunk so I’d admit I don’t feel well,” Harper said, vaguely impressed. “Conniving bastard.” But he leaned back into Robin’s touch.

“Answer me, Harper.” Robin let a smidge of princely authority into his tone. “You aren’t usually so…”

He searched for the word, but Harper gave a stuffy, defeated little sigh and sank deeper into Robin’s side. “Your father will have my head when we reach home.”

Robin scoffed. “Like hell.”

“He will.” Harper sniffed and pressed the handkerchief beneath his nose with some force. “You’ve been miserable on this trip—don’t lie to me; you have been—and it is my job t-to—oh, hell—” He leaned away from Robin and crushed a sneeze into his handkerchief, sharp and rough and furious.

“Bless you. I don’t give a damn about your job.” Maybe Robin oughtn’t to have drank. It made it awfully difficult to shut his mouth. “I only care that my friend is ill and you won’t let him rest.”

“I give a damn.” Harper didn’t snap, but the edge to his tone suggested he might have were Robin anybody else. “I haven’t got the luxury of only being your friend.” But he leaned back into Robin’s shoulder nonetheless.

Robin bit down the first words on his tongue, Your father said something to you. Dragging up that old argument could hardly do good. “I’d be happy to see you rest,” he said instead.

“Hah.” Harper swiped beneath his nose. “Less so to see the cart uncovered, dinner unmade, fire unlit…”

“I could have done any of that myself,” Robin insisted.

“And then what use would I be?” Harper’s tone might have sounded playful to someone else, but Robin heard the subtle frailty in the words.

A drop of rain splashed on Robin’s cheek. He put up a hand to feel for more.

“Right.” Harper sat up and pulled Robin’s hood over his head, smiling. As if Robin is the one needed reassuring. “Go stay dry in the cart. I will join you within a half-hour.”

Robin could have argued. A better friend might have. But Harper was rarely so insistent unless he was right, even if Robin couldn’t see it. “I’ll come looking if you’re late,” he said instead.

Harper laughed. “Nonsense, my lord. We don’t need you catching cold, too.” He stood and offered Robin a hand up.

Robin took it. “Then be with me in a half-hour.” The longer he ran his mouth, the longer Harper would be out in the rain, so he nodded goodbye and headed for the cart.

Inside the cart, he lit his fire-light and left it near the entrance, providing paltry light for Robin but, he hoped, a signal for Harper in case the rain put out the campfire. It wasn’t as if he needed to see much to strip off his cloak and boots and crawl under the blankets Harper had laid out.

The rain picked up quickly, and wind along with it. Robin pulled a pillow over his head, trying to block out the roar of the rain hitting canvas and with it the thought of poor Harper caught outside in this misery.

He had no way to tell the time, but he trusted despite his threat that it really had been less than a half-hour when Harper returned. He heard splashing, heavy footsteps drawing closer, then a creak of the cart as Harper started to step up. A pause, then a wet, wrenching sneeze, half drowned out by the rain hitting canvas but for once not muffled. And then another, ripe with exhausted frustration. Harper cursed, gave his nose a quick, rough blow, and climbed into the cart.

“Bless you.” Robin took the pillow off his head and rolled onto his back. “It sounds miserable out there.” As close to you sound miserable as Harper was likely to accept.

“Hah. S’pose so.” Harper turned out the fire-light and tossed it back to Robin, who fumbled it in the unexpected dark. “Were you frightened without me?”

Robin grumbled. “Oh, terribly. I’m a grown man; I’m not afraid of the rain any longer.”

Harper laughed, still shuffling around the cart to get out of his boots and cloak. “And here I thought you needed me.”

Robin lifted up the blankets to his right—prematurely, he realized when the unexpectedly cold air made him shiver. “All right, then. Get under here and protect me from the wind, Sir Necessary.”

To Robin’s relief, that drew more laughter from Harper, until it broke into a couple coughs. “Of course, my lord,” he said, a bit raspy, and slid under the blankets beside Robin.

He was keeping weight off his right arm, Robin noticed. So his shoulder was acting up. Robin waited for him to settle, then moved himself onto Harper’s good shoulder, pinning him down, and tucked the blanket gently over the other before Harper could protest.

Harper laughed softly and looped his arm around Robin’s waist. “You’re fretting.”

“Will you deny me that?”

“I will deny you nothing, my lord,” Harper said with that note of amusement that always left Robin torn between affection and indignation.

He settled on responding with a haughty sniff and pulling the pillow under Harper’s head. “Then tell me what you would have of me.”

Harper’s answer was as quick as predictable. “Nothing, my lord.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Robin settled his head on Harper’s chest and hooked a leg over Harper’s, drawing him close to share their warmth. Harper’s clothes were damp, and he shivered slightly beneath them. All the more reason to cling to him. “I know you hate to be alone when you’re unwell, but you’re hearing anything more than ‘bless you’ as a slight against your honor. Tell me how to care for you.”

Harper sniffed. “It is not your responsibility to—”

“Why did we come out here alone just to act like your father is listening?” Robin bit his tongue, regretting the words as soon as they passed his lips.

He might not have heard Harper’s breath catch without his ear pressed to his chest, but the sound made him want to shrivel up where he lay. “Oh, hell, Har, I—”

Harper twisted his head away from Robin into a vicious, half-stifled sneeze.

Oh. “Bless you. I’m sorry.”

Harper sniffed hard and brought up his right hand to scrub beneath his nose. “Tha’k you.” He sucked his teeth, absently rubbing a thumb on Robin’s back. When he spoke, it was hardly more than a hoarse whisper, as if asking quietly were less offensive: “Will you ride beside me tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Robin could feel the tension leave Harper. “I ought to have done so from the beginning.”

“You needed space.”

“And you needed company.” Robin shifted, pulling Harper in tighter. He’d stopped shivering. “I wish you’d asked for it sooner.” Harper started to speak, but Robin added, “I know you think you can’t, but I wish you would.”

Harper chuckled softly. “Truly, Robin, you worry too much.”

“Only as you refuse to take proper care of yourself,” Robin protested. “Get some sleep, now.”

“At your pleasure, my lord,” Harper teased, but he relaxed beneath Robin and, soon enough, drifted off to sleep.

#bloop #blep #snz ocs #robin and harper #this is attempt FOUR at this fucking fic because they kept developing in my brain so that the beginning of the fic was ooc #by the time I got to the end #they were SUPPOSED to be one-off characters just for this fic. but now they won’t leave my brain and unfortunately I’m obsessed with them

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midorisudachi · 7 months ago

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“Living a lie…it festers inside you, like poison. You have to fight for what’s in your heart.” – Dorian Pavus

I recently beat Dragon Age Inquisition for the third time! I love that game immensely: everything about it is wonderful. I chose a male Inquisitor - as a rogue - because I wanted to romance Dorian. The first time I played DAI, it was the female elf Lavellen – whom I named Zephyra – and she was a mage, and the romance with Solas was a bloody disaster & heartbreaking. (Damn you, Solas!) The second time I played as the human female Trevelyan – named Bryony (who you have seen me do two fanarts of) – a warrior, and romanced Cullen. (Cullen is so hot for a video game character…where can I find a man like that? Lol.) I hope you like this artwork!

Also: Happy Pride Month! 🌈 It’s actually a perfect time to submit this artwork. This was a lot of fun to create (a full colour piece). If you haven’t played the Dragon Age games, it is actually very LGBTQ friendly. You can make your characters gay, lesbian, or bisexual. There is even a transgender male in DAI, named Krem, who is a cool character. Bioware is open-minded, that’s for sure, so the DA series is for everybody. And omg, let me tell you that the conversations & bantering between the characters is hilarious!

⚠️Warning: Spoilers Ahead!⚠️

Dorian is quite the character…a sarcastic & witty lad. He is complex at first, especially regarding his history (how his father tried to “erase” who he truly was, when it came to his homosexuality). It was fun romancing him with Cedric (Trevelyan), who I made a rouge/assassin. So off course I had to draw my OC [male] Cedric Trevelyan with Dorian! Cedric is Dorian’s “Amatus”. I made them wear simpler outfits when I drew them, because near the end of the game, they were wearing complex armour. That stuff is hard to draw! I chose to draw Lilies by Cedric & Dorian, because if you romance Dorian, his tarot card shows him holding what looks like a Lily.

The two of them had this conversation near the end of the Trespasser DLC:

Cedric: “Whatever happens, I wouldn’t trade the years we’ve had together for anything. I love you.”

Dorian: “I knew you would break my heart, you bloody bastard.”

Lol! Awww, jeez, Dorian, just say you love my Inquisitor, too. I honestly really think that Dorian loved him, as stubborn as he was to admit it. At first I was annoyed when Dorian chose to go back to Trevinter, and I thought, “Darn you, don’t you dare pull a Solas on my Inquisitor, after all you've gone through with him!” However, after the game ends, it tells you what happens to the characters (depending on your choices). For me, the game said that Dorian’s “greatest strength lay in the lover he left in the south, but still conversed with via message crystal”, and “some claimed to have seen the Inquisitor on the streets on Minrathos on rare occasions, sneaking into the heart of Trevinter to aid his Amatus.” It made me happy to know that the Inquisitor and Dorian stayed together. I wonder if that will show up with the 4th game.

⚠️Spoilers Over!⚠️

Speaking of the 4th game, who is excited to Dragon Age: The Veilguard, to be released later this year? I watched the gameplay trailer and I am excited for it! I hope characters from DAI will be in it (so far, Varric & Solas have been shown).

Drawn with sepia Sakura Pigma Micron pens, then coloured in with a mixture of Copic Markers, Ohuhu Markers, & Zenacolor coloured pencils. White accents done with a Sakura gel pen & the gold accents were done with Golden brand acrylic paint.

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

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I’ve got one more request in my brain and then I’ll stop for a while…maybe

So this one is an solo? I.H.A where y/n is doing stand up! Halfway through Jax is egging on reader and going “boo get off the stage” which causes y/n to stop and rail into Jax in the vein of “that’s why yo mama dead” this goes on for 10 minuets, everyone shocked and Caine’s jaw in the earth. Then y/n drops the mic and walks off. If it’s possible could I also add the others reaction to this? Thanks! ❤️❤️ ps your writing is great

Stand up Comedy where you get back at a rude audience member

wasnt too sure what to name this since its not exactly a shipping thing, maybe, i think... i dunno!! this post may be a little short, may not be, we shall see! erm!! warning i do not have good humor i think, like i am unfunny finally getting to requests for today; took me a little longer than usual since i went out to go get some breakfast and i threw together some dough for cinnamon rolls today also gentle reminder ! currently requests are closed so i can catch up on my inbox and take a short break! i dont have a set time for them to open again, but i aim to reopen in a few days! any new requests sent in will be void; its nothing against you my inbox is just flooded rn and i need to empty it out </3

caine thought it would be a good idea for you guys to do a little comedy night; be it for bonding or for entertainment you werent sure

however throughout the night, jax was calling out to whoever was on stage and trying to either steal their show or simply being mean

so far, pomni had gone (who froze up on stage the second the lights were on her), gangle (poor girl was bullied off stage by jax), kinger (who just rambled about cool bug facts)

needless to say so far the night was a bit of a disaster

currently, zooble was up on stage, not even making an attempt to do jokes. any jokes they did make were a bit on the darker side; and of course, jax was loudly cutting in

"you know what? <> this!" zooble drops the prop mic and storms off the stage, the air being a tense afterwards

you feel caine nudging your side, alerting you that you were up next

you internally sighed, you really didnt want to do this, in fact it seemed like just about everyone didnt want to do this

jax immediately started on his bullshit before you even had a chance to open your mouth, already booing. from on the stage you could see ragatha giving him a look

you tried to begin again, before jax made a comment on how quiet you were

"oh course you'd know about sound, seriously have you seen how big your feet are? you slap the floor instead of stomping"

silence

zooble lets out a choked laugh, and you can see caine jerk forward as he tried to contain a surprised laugh

jax narrows his eyes, and he opened he mouth

"hang on wait when was the last time you brushed your teeth? i mean come on man, youre teeth are yellow. maybe the reason no ones been laughing is because theyre choking from how bad your breath smells"

gangle holds her hands over her mouth, seemingly in shock. kingers eyes darted between you and jax, and pomni held a similar expression to gangle... jax, of course, was fuming, trying to rattle off a come back, ultimately failing and stammering that his teeth are meant to be that color

you had to admit, it was odd seeing jax finally being knocked down a peg, but it was satisfying in its own way

you kind of ragged on him for another minute before seeing yourself off stage

the entire room was silent

caine pulled his lower jaw off the floor, and regained himself, before letting jax know it was his turn up next

tonight was going to be a long night...

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader

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vierlieben · 9 months ago

Text

Hair Clips.

Kang Yeosang x f!reader

genre: fluff

wc: ??

a/n: mweheheh i just felt like this is something that he'd do :[ i love this man so much

since you and your fiance, yeosang moved in together, you can't help but to notice how plain your hair looks without the colorful clips that you used to put all over it. it's such a disaster for you—you accidentally left it in your old apartment and when you came back to get them, it's all gone. you even tried looking through yeosang's luggages but it wasn't there either. the landlord must have got it, you thought.

it's been just a week. you love those hair clips but you couldn't go out to buy new ones because you were busy with the wedding planning and everything, especially arranging the furnitures and other stuff in your new home.

everytime you'd look at a mirror and see how plain you look because of the missing pieces that are supposed to be clipped to your hair, you can't seem to smile. it's not that you're just being so dramatic or something, it's just because you've been wearing and loving them since you were little. that's what people loved about you; you always look adorable, even at this age.

now it feels like something as a big piece of your personality is missing. you just couldn't wait to have more free time and spend the whole day shopping for new hair clips and accessories.

"hi," you felt yeo's arms wrapped around your upper body while looking at yourself in the mirror. "can't get enough of looking at your own beautiful face?"

his sweetness made you blush. but that's way far from what you are really thinking about.

"no.. i really miss putting on hair clips. i look like a whole different person." you said with a sad tone, which touched his heart.

and he knows how much you love putting on those cute hair clips as well. most of the time, even when he's running late at work, he'd put it on you and flash the sweetest smile ever while staring at your pretty face. sometimes, he'd let you put it on him too and take pictures!

"well, say no more," he whispered and smooched your left cheek.

you got confused as his right arm unclasped from your upper body and reached something from his pocket. it was something pink and purple—and your eyes automatically shined as yeosang clipped it to your hair.

it is a...

... a goddamn hair clip. and he got it for you.

well, it's not like it's the first time that he ever got new ones for you. it's just... it feels different at this moment because you missed him doing it for you and you definitely missed something being clipped onto your hair.

the hair clips just kept coming out from his pocket and getting on your hair. a smile is painted on his pretty face while doing it, admiring your cute expression; you feel like you're about to cry.

you turned your head to see your reflection again when he finished putting it on for you. you missed seeing your hair having these cute clips ...

"oh, god.." was all you can say. ".. i so love you, baby."

he once again wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you more cheek smooches. "we'll get more once we're done doing stuff here, alright?"

you nodded and kissed him back. "thank you, baby. you're so sweet."

"i sure am," he tightened the hug for a second. "hug me back, please?"

you turned around and did as what he said. the both of you wished that this moment could last longer.

#ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez x reader #yeosang #kang yeosang #fluff

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ritcchamadayo · 2 years ago

Note

Please, Part 3 of Punk Jade, you're giving me more of a reason to simp for this man-

I will honestly GLADLY turn into a Jade-fic blog i am so far gone when it comes to this man... Sorry for the wait guys! Uni had me in a chokehold (again) but LETS GET BACK TO SIMPING

A Look Into The Past (Pt. 3)

Jade Leech x Reader ;

On a rare day off, Jade found himself pondering Professor Crewel's fashion tips when it came to styling his piercings but couldn't decide for himself. Who else to ask for opinions other than you?

(we're back again folks!! again thank you so much for the love on this fic!! I'll be considering posting this on Ao3 as a full series after this one XD THANK YOU!!!)

Reader is a Sophomore in this fic, just like the twins!

Read Part 1 Here! Read Part 2 Here!

"U-Um, so that's what you called me out for?" "Yes, exactly."

When Jade had contacted you saying that there was a "disaster", you certainly didn't expect the disaster to be the eel-mer's own wardrobe. You were surprised at the amount of clothes he had, but a few of them are quite... distasteful, to say the least.

When Jade wore his ear piercings to school the other time, he was stopped by none other but Professor Crewel and was given an earful about how to dress and act when wearing such flashy accessories. Granted, they were at school so it can't be helped, but Crewel made sure to make Jade remember his fashion tips for days off like today.

"Did Floyd get you this?" You hold up a purple shirt with a drawing of an eel, and big blocky text saying "Mentally Eel". You grimaced at how tacky the shirt was. "Ah, yes he did. Floyd has the habit of collecting anything eel-related in the surface world, you see."

You had to stifle a laugh at the thought. "Ah, that's where he got those eel keychains."

You rummaged through Jade's wardrobe (with permission, of course) and pulled out most of his clothes, gently putting them down and organizing them by type. There were a few normal button-up shirts, a pair of pajamas, Jade's hiking clothes and equipment, and let's not forget the winter clothes he wore on his trip to Harveston. (You wonder why he wore shorts AND leggings with his hiking wear, but you're not gonna question it.)

"What did Crewel say about them anyway? And uh, why me out of all people? I'm pretty sure someone like Vil or Cater could give you much better insight?" You ask. Jade tilts his head, pondering for a second. "Why, I suppose it's because you were the first person to pop up in my mind. I couldn't hope to bother our seniors, after all. Besides, your sense of fashion is quite good."

Bullshit reasoning. Or so you say, but you feel your ears heat up from the thought of Jade thinking of you. "Oh. I-I see." Jade wasn't lying when he said you had a good sense of fashion though, your choice of outfits on days off were always endearing to him. You were wearing a blouse paired with black overalls today, which looked both comfortable and fashionable at the same time.

"What did Crewel say?" "Hm... He said that a relaxed, mature look would suit for a lesser amount of accessories, to put it simply. Either that, or something simpler to accentuate the accessories if we were to wear more amounts."

Perhaps it's time for a little fashion show, then?

You quickly look around and pull out a few pieces of clothing- A pair of white pants and bright blue and yellow short sleeved shirt, giving off a bit of a tropical vibe. Jade took the clothes gratefully, putting them on the bed for him to change into.

"Oh? Are you perhaps going to watch me change, or~?" "I-I'M NOT! I'M LOOKING AWAY!!!" Your face shone red, quickly turning around to look at the door instead. Jade chuckled quietly, unbuttoning his shirt and taking them off. You can clearly hear the sound of him unzipping his pants as well, making you wipe your sweat off your forehead. (there's the urge to peek, but you better not.)

"Alright, I've finished changing. What do you think?"

You nervously turn around, and closely examined Jade in your chosen clothes. "It looks pretty good! I think a bit of a messier look would look nice with lots of accessories on your ears, like if you unbuttoned a few from the top of your shirt."

Jade complies, messing up his hair slightly and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his collarbone, and you feel yourself regretting your words.

"I quite agree. The colors of the shirt pop with the addition of the white pants, and the silvers of the metal can be clearly seen."

"A-Ah, yeah!" (remember to look respectfully, dear) "Can you lean down for a sec?" Jade kneels down to your level sitting on the floor, and you take out a few of his accessories from the little wooden box he kept neatly inside his wardrobe. You picked up a few unused piercings and tried mixing and matching them on his ears, laughing when Jade comments your fussing over his ears tickles quite a bit.

"But it's not really your style, honestly... A flashy look like this kinda fits Floyd more." You comment, but deep down you think it wasn't a bad change of pace to see Jade in something other than buttoned-up shirts and suits. Turning back to the clothes pile, you pick out another set of clothes- this time, it was a comfy white turtleneck with black dress pants. You also found a brown trench coat in the depths of his wardrobe, which Jade said his parents' acquaintances gifted him for his birthday and he didn't know how to style it.

You looked back to the door once again as he changes out of the clothes, putting the new set on quickly and gracefully. "Oh, this definitely feels much more my style."

You turned around to see for yourself, and your eyes shone excitedly seeing him in the new getup. "Oh! Definitely!!" You cheered, giggling while at it. "You surprisingly suit the more mature-but-comfortable look, Jade." The eel-mer chuckles, sitting back down on the floor. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so. What about the accessory choices, then?"

"Hmm... Crewel said that less is better in this getup, so just a little..." Picking up a few ring shaped ones, you carefully put a few piercings on Jade's ears- a simple look, consisting of the double helix on top of his ears and a couple of silver studs along his lobes.

"There! Well it isn't exactly a little either, but..."

Jade looked at the mirror in his room, a satisfied smile on his face. A smile that is neither shady, plotting, or emotionless- a genuinely happy smile. "My my, I was correct in assuming you had good taste in fashion. I'm rather confident in this look, actually. It's comfortable enough for me to move in, and yet still maintaining the fashionable aura from the coat."

You had a grin on your face, proud of your handiwork. "All thanks to you being a good model! And for having a variety of clothes I can choose from, haha."

You had quickly put the rest of his clothes back into his wardrobe after making a few other suggestions, and dusted yourself off as you stood up. "I should probably get going now, I wouldn't want to invade for too long." You say, stretching your arms and getting ready to get back to your dorm. You open the door, stepping out from his neat room.

"Ah, before that." Jade called out, following you outside. He quickly (and rather smoothly) took your hand in his, closing and locking up his room. "Since we're already in decent clothes, what do you say I take you on a small trip around Sage's Island? Perhaps we can stop by and grab some food. My treat of course, after you've oh-so graciously helped me."

Your cheeks heat up, and you feel your gaze lowering to stare at the floor instead of the man in front of you.

"...Is this your way of asking me out?" "Perhaps. Do you accept?"

You couldn't bring yourself to decline his offer. (Your empty stomach also couldn't.)

"S-sure then. I'd love to, Jade."

"Splendid. It's a date, then."

#✨RitcchanWrites #✨TwistedRitchuland #✨RitcchanDreams #✨ritcchama's crazy simpery #UUHGGHHHHH HES SO HOT #ITS BEEN WEEKS AND IM STILL NOT OVER IT #SIR YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE PLEASE #twisted wonderland #twst #jade leech #twisted wonderland imagines #octavinelle #twst jade #jade leech x reader #jade x reader

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lv-tangle-universe-blog · 3 months ago

Text

Process of the bickering... Yes, I use speech to text for most of my writing... 'cause the thought must come out immediately. Otherwise, it will get forgotten

(King candy eventually dragged it to his castle, to at least keep an eye on it, while he's thinking on what to do it sinks to itself while looking at the strange green ball that companies this man, that strange sour expression always across its face. Reminded the death glitch that it's game, its brothers are gone, as King Candy informs it that turbo time was unplugged, and if that's so how, did it respond... Unless... Of course... King Candy immediately called on his little sour bill to accompany him to check the code. Seeing the worries on the poor ball's face, she had to step up, "may I inquire that I go instead? I would like to understand how I came to be too, and your little assistant here doesn't seem too willing" the death glitch said in her matter of fact, tone,"puff, fine," king candy said with a wave, her?... Did it just to prefer to itself as a her... She finds herself smiling a little if turbo's a boy and if I don't want to be like a copy of him. Being a girl might differentiate myself from him, and besides, like nothing's different, i feel actually better, she says to herself as she follows behind in the cartoonish king's footsteps, maybe this is a good development, i am not him after all, she absolutely despises the fact that she's so similar to Turbo. She is always looking for ways to differentiate herself from the disaster of a racer, to prove that she is better than him, she watches the king, put in the code, and wraps the licorice around himself. The death glitch grabs the rope like candy to make sure he doesn't float away as he starts to swim around in the code in front of her, taking the time to actually peek in the dark space.Looking around watching him, open up a giant code box, wait code boxes aren't supposed to be that big... Oh...ooohhh heehee... Of course... Turbo did cause the unplugging didn't he, so him hiding away another racing game as a ruler doesn't seem too far off... She looks out to the empty blackness. Spotting a flickering box.It's too far away for her to really read it, but she tries, Vanellope?...huh... So there's another glitch here... Perfect, I won't be alone anymore... She hears the old man screech and yell in frustration, she peers out to where he is seeing that he has another code box opened, it was hers, she can barely make out to the stuff inside, but she has an idea on what happened, as king candy tugged on the licorice rope, she begins to pull him back, "so...big t, when are you gonna tell me what exactly you did To make me spawn", she says in administer tone, and again, that ghost white face crosses the ruler, "that's it. I know your little secret, now share"... Of course, the ruler had a little fit. But he knew that I would just hold my ground and just ask again. Of course, he doesn't answer directly, just saying that he made a mistake while recoding himself. It didn't matter if he didn't give a full answer. She would find the truth out eventually, the second they got out of the coding area. He tried to arrest her before he could even yell blains in close whispering secrets into his ear, and knowing she could just phase through the wall if she needed to in net fungeon, he can't have that stuff getting out, "fine, just don't finish in first place like you did last time," " of course never again","and you're gonna need a new name"," i was thinking the name that you were trying to give me the first time we met"...."Last place"... Her tone was dark, but the king didn't back down, he did smile eagerly at the name.But seeing it was not a joke, it quickly disappeared," i'm guessing I have to watch my back from now on", "what are you expecting me to cause trouble on my first day, ha, you would be right, but i'm kind of curious about this Vanellope, i want to know who she is. And maybe I can help with your little reset glitch problem,"... The king smiled, knowing that he had just gained an ally... The racer smiled, knowing that with this thread, she could easily unravel everything if she wanted to)

#oc #wip #wreck it ralph #wir #turbo #glitch #long story lol #king candy #messing around #I don't know how to write transgender #So correct me if i'm missing something #Or doing something wrong #sugar rush #Last place

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thisaccountisagainstmywill · 3 months ago

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I've begun an evil Honor mode playthrough with my Old Man Gaming Squad. And it's slightly less chaos this time around but by FAR more of a disaster. I'm playing Bazahl the Duergar Rogue this go around. We've been trying to do an evil game where we don't kill everyone, but instead do the actual evil plot line. (Hint: It's not going well.)

The beginning of Baz's real bad night. Night events keep triggering on me for some reason this session. This session I started with the Lae'zel "Oh we're transforming, I better slit your throat." I am not the face of this playthrough (or the last one), so I failed all the checks to convince her not to hurt me.

Someone asked "What happens if you just give in?" We do science in this house so of course I tried. Well, kids the news is: She kills you. Then after she kills you, she goes hostile and fights the rest of your camp. And for some reason Gale goes hostile too. (Boy's confused but he's got the spirit.) So because of the issue with killing Gale causing an end game state after three days, we're scrambling to fix it. Lae'zel we can handle being gone. She killed me and me is important we have no other rogue. We try bonking Gale. But bonking is bugged. We force restart the game, no good. We scramble around and eventually have to just kill Gale, we can't end combat we're in camp and we have no potions. His projection spawns and we go through all of that. Gale gets rezzed and we're Gucci. Sometimes a Wizard just needs his reset button pressed. In the mess of trying to get the other players back into the game I end up having to play through everyone's Dream Visitor Night 1 so they can get in. So I get to see everyone's Dream Visitors.

My dream visitor is real damn fine for someone I just hit random on a bunch of times. (✿◡‿◡)

The old men, however, were boring in their picks. Lae'zel is gone in the morning (we bonked her out, so she might be alive) and I'm alive again. We're good. We can go to the Grove, evil campaign back on schedule. WRONG We invade the Grove and everything goes fine. However, for some reason Minthara 'My Queen and Light of My Life' Baenre's sexual advances dialogue keeps triggering on my character despite never having spoken to her. Against my better wishes I turn her down. My Queen went immediately hostile at the party and now every Goblin is hostile. Its Honor Mode so we can't reload.

Moments before disaster.

Afterwards I'm getting yelled at going, "Why didn't you just sleep with her?!" Me: "Have you seen her scene?! " Old Man: "No!"

Me: "It's pretty explicit! It would be like watching porn with my uncles." Old Man: "Oh fair, I guess. But I would have done it."

Me: "I know you would've....that's so weird. Why did it trigger on me?"

Sleep well my bonked out Queen. I hope I see you at Moonrise. But I doubt it. Now every single Goblin back at the Goblin camp is aggressive. We've ruined our chances of having a nice and normal Evil Campaign. We're going full murder hobo. No one will survive. Zarys and the Underdark vendors are the only vendors we have left in Act 1. Everyone else is dead but we need to get to them still.

Conclusion: Honor Mode really isn't the place to be testing out new story paths. ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 anecdote #oc: Bazahl #God I've fucked this up so badly #Pave my Path with Corpses and I ain't even Durge

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zippidi-dooda · 8 months ago

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Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4,

5 - To Continue

"What the hell do you mean there's nothing? She has to be somewhere!"

"We've searched everywhere for her, sire."

"Clearly not if you still haven't found her!"

"Sire, if I may-"

"What!" Rias threw his goblet across the room at the new person who entered his chambers.

It shattered upon impact on the wall, narrowly missing the person's head. Had it been anyone else, they would have slunk away in terror. But this man, Rias' advisor, Cymore, had become accustomed to his fits of rage and acted as if it had not happened.

"It has been years since she left. She isn't here or in any of the neighboring kingdoms."

"No shit! These men are all just fucking worthless! Get out of my sight already! You're lucky I don't have you executed for not doing your job properly!"

The soldier on the floor wasted no time running out of the room.

"Sire, I admit that this is my fault for not doing this sooner, but this has gone on for far too long. The kingdom has been falling apart, it's only a matter of time before disaster strikes. After your marriage, your kingdoms combined. You have masses of people who need your leadership. But youre not giving them that. If, God forbid, a revolt or an uprising occured, you'd have no chance of winning. Y/N and Lucas are long dead by now. You need to change priorities and repair the kingdom your family has worked so hard to create. Before it really falls in ruins. It's time you give-"

"No." Rias held up a finger, his voice dead calm all of a sudden. "Don't you dare give me that crap again. Y/N is not dead. If she were, there would be an announcement about a dead woman's pregnant body long ago, or a dead woman and a toddler now, in the papers."

"Many dead women and children are unheard about in every kingdom, Sire. Including ours. The fact that there's no news doesn't mean a thing. I doubt she lasted long out there, she is only used to being pampered by everyone. You have to try to understand that maybe there will be no happy end for-"

"Lyanne."

"... Excuse me?"

"Lyanne Chesterfield. Age 32. Long blond hair, brown eyes, a little on the short side. She has no family to speak of, just a few neighbors she holds close. Lives in a modest house near town square, right beside the little bakery she works at. Normally clocks in at seven thirty AM and leaves home at at six PM. Works occasionally on weekends. She's the girl you've been courting a little over a year now. The one you plan to marry in a few months. Am I correct?"

The advisor stiffened at all the, accurate, information being thrown at him.

"I never told you all of that, Sire."

Rias laughed and walked around the table towards him. "Oh, I know. Just her name and that you had a fiancée is all you said. But, as your friend- oh. You do know I think of you as my dearest friend, don't you Cy? You've been my right hand much longer than the others. I tell you all my secrets and you tell me yours."

Sweat dripped down Cymore's neck but he stood still as Rias laughed and shook him by his shoulders.

It was a gesture he'd done a million times before, in a friendly mood after Cymore lifted his spirits. This action once made him relaxed, let him know he did his job right.

But right now, he couldn't help the fear creeping up his spine.

"I think we have a lovely little thing going on here. I'll never find an advisor better than you, one that I can call my friend and trust with everything, truly I can't ... but an advisor being my friend isn't a necessity. Just a perk I enjoy. Anyone else can do the job.

"Anyways, as your friend, I took the liberty of searching about this girl. I wanted to know she's the best match for you, ya know. That she won't break your heart. And she won't. You've picked a perfect girl to wed, Cy. I can't wait for the wedding.

"That is, if nothing bad were to happen that prevented that. God forbid she were to go missing too, like my wife did."

Rias let Cymore go and sat on his bed. He stretched casually as if what he said was normal and not a cause for worry.

"That must be awful, right? Losing the woman you love more than anything in the whole world. Right before she could even be considered yours officially by the church. I don't want that for you, Cy. But sometimes, bad things happen right? And you just have to learn to let go?"

Cymore's mouth felt dry. He tried to ignore the implications that Rias' words held. "Yes, Sire. It's healing to let go. To move on."

Rias laid back, folding his arms behind his head and let out a long sigh. "Ahhhh. Hm. Cymore. If Lyanne were to go missing, would you give up trying to find her?"

He wanted to continue to believe Rias was just joshing him, in a sick way. A reflection of his pain from losing you.

"... I'd search through hell and high water for her, Sire."

He wanted to continue to work by his side. Treat him kindly when everyone else ran away from him. Like the true friend he was.

"For how long?"

He wanted to continue to pin this on the unfortunate events that befell Rias throughout his life. Not on the truth. The truth that this king was a twisted person from the beginning.

"... as ... for as ... long as possible ... Sire. Until I had ... definitive proof that she's gone ... forever ...."

He wanted to continue to believe ...

Rias closed his eyes and smiled. "I like that answer. It means you do understand exactly why I can't give up on Y/N even after so long."

... that Rias was a good man.

"Yes ... Sire ...."

That he'd never actually threaten him, his future wife ...

"Good. Now, Cy, you are the person I can trust most. You are the one who found that bastard who fucked my wife in the first place. So, if you never want to experience losing the girl you love most like me, I'm finally going to assign you to the task of finding and bringing back Y/N, and her son, to me, safe and sound. And you better not come back unless she is with you. I'll keep your beloved safe from others until then, okay?"

Like he just had.

It felt like the weight of the world had been dropped onto Cymore's shoulders as he knelt to the ground, head bowed and fist pressed to his chest.

"Yes ... Sire."

"In Ruins" Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #“In Ruins”#x reader

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