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remiratboi · 2 months ago

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Lost Souls Campground - Ollidar

Masterlist

Yandere!MHalfOrcXFatAFAB!G/NReader ~ 11K Words

You met when you were children, and he never spoke. You were childhood best friends. Now, a decade after you last saw him, you've returned to the very campground you grew up seeing him at. You never imagined you'd find him there again.

CW: Monster fucking, noncon/dubcon, stalking, yandere, obsessive relationship, unhealthy relationship, body image issues, bondage, gaslighting, manipulation. Let me know if I missed something.

I re-edited it and changed a few things, and posted it all as one!

Every year, your family would vacation in the Moonlight Realm. The pocket universe that had been discovered around 100 years ago. ‘Moonlight Realm’ it was affectionately called because of the creatures who dwelled there. Monsters.

As well as monsters of all kinds, the Moonlight Realm boasted of beautiful scenery, cheap rates, and what humans originally deemed “exotic cultures”.

But the humans and the monsters had settled into a comfortable coexistence, and monsters were far from rare any longer. You grew up with creatures all around you. It was common and equal. The human race had come a long way.

The little cabin you always rented for the whole summer was small and cramped. You, 3 siblings, your parents, and an elderly dog made the 2 bedroom unit feel like a shoebox. From a very young age, you had learned all the best hiding spots and getaways in the park. When you were around 10 years old, you found that apparently someone else had found them too.

A young half orc named Ollidar, or Ollie.

You didn’t speak the same language, and the first time you met, it had been awkward and confusing. You had tried to tell him he was welcome, and that there was enough room for the both of you. He seemed to understand, as he ended up sitting across from you in the small natural clearing that sat just inside the forest.

You probed him with questions, you tried acting things out, you tried writing them down with a stick in the dirt. He didn’t respond. Sometimes it looked like he understood something but he never gave any reply. Just sat there, watching you. Sometimes he’d smile shyly.

The first summer it had been a lot to get used to. He started meeting you every day in the same spot. Sometimes he’d read, or listen to music on his AirPods, but mostly he watched you.

You wasted a few days trying to get him to respond, but since he never did, it slowly switched to you just talking to him. You told him… everything. You had to fill the silence. It would be too awkward if not.

You told him about your friends back home, your cat who you missed terribly and hoped was liking the pet sitter. About your favourite movies, books, foods. You told him about your fears, you weren’t sure why. You told him embarrassing stories. Sometimes you even worried he would think you were lame or weird and leave, but he never did. He just listened.

The summer came to an end and you did your best to tell him goodbye. That you hoped to see him again.

And you would. Every year. Every summer you spent two glorious months glued to each other’s sides. Your families became close through you. He had a sister and two moms. Your parents got along, and all of your siblings as well.

No one understood why he never spoke. It wasn’t a language barrier anymore. After 7 summers together both families knew more than enough about the other’s language. Enough to communicate with little confusion. He seemed to understand everything. If you asked him to pass you something, he would. If you gave him something he didn’t want, he’d shake his head. But he never spoke.

You stopped going on family vacations when you turned 18. You had moved out, so had most of your siblings. Your parents decided it was time for your own family vacations.

The first summer that you weren’t going, hit you harder than you’d ever imagined. Your chest hurt.

The next year was better.

And the next.

Soon you were 28 and that little half orc was just a fond, albeit, bittersweet memory.

Until your parents decide to do a sort of reunion trip this year. All of your siblings, and their families, plus you and your parents, would be taking a summer vacation to Lost Souls Campground in the Moonlight Realm this year.

It had barely changed. Some machines had been upgraded, the cabins had clearly been renovated to function with modernity, but other wise it was beautiful, serene, and just like you remembered it.

“It’s you.” A strong deep voice full of awe whispered from behind you. You turned around and was met with a face indeed in awe. It took a moment but you realized this was the first time you’d ever heard his voice.

“Oh wow!” You exclaimed. Genuine joy spreading across your face. “You’re here?!” You cried and raced up to him. He didn’t even flinch as you threw yourself at him. His arms opened and he gathered you in a powerful embrace. There was a hint of desperation in the way he clung to your soft body.

You felt a pang of anxiety that had been previously overtaken by the shock of seeing him. You were not thin anymore. And while you loved your body, and felt sexy in it, not everyone else was as comfortable with fat bodies as you were. What if he didn’t want you like this?

Want me like this? What am I thinking?!

You tried to pull yourself away from the hug, but he held tight.

“It’s you…” he muttered into your hair. He was warm, and huge. The orc part of his genes must have been strong. He dwarfed you. It took a lot for someone to make you feel small. Some part of your brain short circuited when you finally registered he had been lifting you. You panicked slightly then, worried about being too heavy and pushed yourself from his chest. He reluctantly lowered you down.

You were blushing from feet to head as you smoothed out your clothes. “Sorry, I… I was just surprised to see you.” You stuttered out. You looked up at his face. He was beautiful. You could see hints of the boy you knew, but he had grown, developed thick muscles, his face thinned out and lengthened.

“You came back.” He replied. His gaze was hyper focused on you. It seemed nothing else registered to him any longer. You squirmed a bit under such overwhelming attention.

“Yeah, we stopped back then, when all of us had moved out. But we are doing a sort of reunion trip this summer!” You explained excitedly. You felt giddy. You didn’t even really understand why. You felt excitement at seeing him.

“Does your family still come here every year?” You asked and leaned around him to see if any of them were standing near by.

“No, just me.” He answered. For the first time since seeing you, his gaze dropped. His cheeks darkened.

“You must really love this ratty old place, huh?” You joked and nudged his arm with your elbow.

“I guess.” He replied, still avoiding eye contact. “So how long are you here for?” He asked.

“The whole summer!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms out wide as if that would show the physical manifestation of time. “I had about a decade of vacations days saved up, so I decided to take the whole summer. Everyone else is just here for a couple weeks.”

He nodded and glanced back up into your eyes. “So just you and your partner are here for the summer? Or do you have kids now?” He asked and dropped his gaze again.

You chuckled. Kind of a transparent attempt my guy. “No, no partner. No kids. Never found anyone willing to put up with me long enough.” You joked self deprecatingly. “You of all people know how much I can talk.” You grimaced at yourself.

“That was my favourite thing about you.” He replied quietly. He seemed nervous. You blushed again. “The way you spoke was mesmerizing.” He continued before, it seemed, he could stop himself.

A manic sounding giggle escaped your lips. “Wow, marry me?” You joked. It was his turn to laugh like a crazy person.

“So, uh,” you continued “how long are you here for?”

“Whole summer.” He answered and smiled up at you. “How solo were you hoping to spend your time?” He ran his hand down the back of his neck and rested it on his shoulder.

You laughed and placed your hand on his arm.

The first few days with Ollie were a little awkward. Not in an uncomfortable way, but in that you didn’t know eachother anymore. It had been a decade since you had spent time together, and while he talked a little more than he used to, it was still few and far in between.

You couldn’t tell if he found it awkward though. He never mentioned it. He just followed you around. He seemed content to just exist nearby you.

The first two weeks breezed by in a flurry of family, kids, games, and way too much food. At the end of it, you waved them goodbye and excitedly hurried back to the little cabin. This would be the first time you’d had it all to yourself.

You pulled the door shut behind you and basked in the quiet for a moment. You could always hear other campers outside. Kids shrieking, vehicles moving, multiple different music sources all floating on top of eachother. And inside was a sort of haven from it all.

You made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink when you found a plate full of cookies, uncovered and still warm on the counter. You were surprised, you hadn’t noticed anyone baking before they’d left? Weird.

You inspected a cookie. Sniffed it, licked it. You didn’t immediately explode, so you shrugged your shoulders to yourself and took a bite. It was a very good cookie. You grabbed a couple more and threw them in a baggie. You gathered some other things, and changed into your bathing suit.

The beach was a short 5 or so minute walk from your cabin, and you munched away at your cookie the whole way. It was a bit overcast, so the beach wasn’t as crowded as it usually was.

You claimed a spot near another family, so that you felt comfortable leaving your stuff alone if you swam, and laid your towel out. You pulled your slinky bathing suit cover over your head and dropped it next to your things.

It was still a bit early in the day to go into the water so you opted for sunbathing with the hopes you’d get all warm and toasty then cool off in the water. Soon you were face down on a towel, your head on your arms, dozing away. You were interrupted by a prolonged blocking of sun rays.

You craned your head up and struggled to make out who it was looming over you with the suns rays blinding you from behind them. You glanced down at their feet next to you and recognized pale green skin.

“You liked the cookies?” Ollies deep voice asked. You were about to say yes, when you processed the implications of him being the one to hand deliver, into your kitchen, without asking, the surprise treat you’d found. You sat up and tugged his hand so he wasn’t standing in front of the sun anymore and you could actually see him.

“Uh, yeah they were good. But, that means you were in my cabin?” You asked incredulously.

“Oh, sorry, was that inappropriate?” He asked, genuine concern seeming to lace his tone. “Sorry, I sometimes…” he trailed off. He looked anxious again. You chose to let him work through what he wanted to say. Words were hard for him, and you wanted him to feel safe sharing them with you. Even if right now you were kind of peeved with him. “Sometimes I don’t understand what’s.. ok, or whatever.” He finished.

“Well, I appreciate your apology. No, going into someone else’s space without their consent, isn’t ok.” You softened. He wasn’t trying to cross a boundary. And he had apologized immediately. “How did you get in anyway?” You queried, already moving on from the emotions.

“I, uh, it was unlocked.” He stuttered out. Your eyebrows knit together. You could have sworn it was locked. But you shrugged past the confusion quickly. How else would he have gotten in?

“Weird. Well, anyway, I do like the cookies, they are delicious and very sweet of you.” You placed your hand on his lower calf where you could reach in a comforting way. “Just next time please knock.” You winked and giggled.

He nodded emphatically.

You and Ollie spent the day at the beach. You realized later that you never actually asked him to join you, but you weren’t displeased that he did. Even after only two weeks, you were pretty used to having him around you again. It was just like when you were kids.

Well, almost. You couldn’t help but notice some of his gazing wasn’t quite as… wholesome as it had been when you were kids. But it didn’t bother you. He wasn’t lewd about it at all, and if you were being honest with yourself, you kind of enjoyed it. Also, you had to admit, you had done some gazing yourself.

He was huge. He was muscled. He was gorgeous, and didn’t seem to be aware of it. He was exquisitely shy around everyone but you. And on top of all that, he seemed to notice only you.

You had watched countless others throw themselves at him, just to be rejected one way or another. More often than not, it seemed he just genuinely didn’t realize he was being hit on. Sometimes he’d be forced into straight up turning someone down, but mostly he’d just give them a puzzled look, and walk away.

Today was no different. You were reaching for the sunscreen when a volleyball sprayed sand all over you. You yelped and sand filled your mouth. A very pretty woman jogged over.

“O-M-G! I am so sorry about that!” She said in one of the fakest voices you’d ever heard. She said it to Ollie, not you, even though he hadn’t been hit with the spray at all. Normally you would have said something sassy, but you were too busy spitting sand from your mouth.

Ollie didn’t respond to her, but he leaned over to grab the volleyball from where it had landed between you.

“I’m Selina!” She said, all bubbly. “I’ve seen you around, you should play with us some time!”

Ollie looked up at her, volleyball still in his hands. He glanced at you. He turned back to her and thrust the ball towards her. He held it tightly in one single hand. You couldn’t help but notice how large his hand was.

“You should be more careful.” He replied, emotionless.

She took the ball and giggled anxiously. “Oh, yeah of course, we totally will.” She smiled awkwardly at you. “So, do you want to come play now?” She shot her shot.

“No.” Ollie replied.

“Aw, come on. We don’t bite.” She joked and wiggled her finger at him.

Ollie glared at her now. His face no longer impassive but furious. It surprised you. He didn’t normally express much emotion visibly.

“First you spray sand all over my partner,” he started.

Partner?!

“Then you apologize to me, not even the one you sprayed.” He continued, his tone developing an edge. The girl raised the hand not holding the ball in front of her and took a hesitant step back.

“THEN you hit on me in front of them, and don’t take no for an answer?” He shook his head at her, his soft black curls bouncing with the movement. “I am so, painfully, not interested.” He finished.

The woman blushed deeper red at each of his words, before spinning on her heel and practically running away.

“That was kind of rude.” You said quietly. You could feel his annoyance rolling off of him.

“Did I say anything untrue?” He asked you. His words were demanding, but his tone was soft. He was always soft with you. He glared in the direction she had ran.

“Well, not really.” You answered speculatively. “Mostly. Partner?” You asked and turned to look at him.

“Ah, yeah, sorry. I guess that wasn’t true.” He replied. He glanced up at you from the side, but didn’t turn to face you.

“Why did you say it then?” Your voice sounded small, but you felt bold for vocalizing the question pounding in your head.

He turned to look at you for a moment. A fire blazed in his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long time. He just stared into your eyes. You found you couldn’t look away.

Finally, “Sorry, I guess I wanted more reason to defend you. I felt… more angry than made sense.” He turned to look back down in front of him. You mulled his words for a moment. That made sense. What you still wondered about was the feelings that made him ‘more angry than made sense’.

You reached out and lay a hand on his shoulder. He tensed for a moment, but then quickly relaxed into your touch. “Thank you for defending me.” You said quietly. A smile played at his lips. He glanced back at you for just a second.

“Oh, also I think that was the most words I’ve ever heard you say all in a row about the same topic.” You teased him.

Your hand still lay on his shoulder. A part of you recognized the moment was over, and it made sense to remove your hand. But you didn’t. His skin was warm and you could feel his muscles tense and move with him.

You were surprised by a sudden, intense desire to touch him everywhere.

“I like your bathing suit by the way.” He mumbled. You almost didn’t catch it. Your cheeks burned and you stared at him for a second too long.

You snapped out of it and finally pulled your hand from his shoulder. You found yourself fidgeting with the ties that hung down the side of your string bikini. To be honest, you hadn’t expected to see him here, and this suit was one you normally reserved solely for private sun bathing as it was pretty skimpy. You were suddenly very aware of the soft rolls on your sides. The way your thighs pressed together.

“Oh, really?” Your laugh had a slight edge. “My mom told me it’s not… flattering on my body.” You didn’t know why you told him that. It was embarrassing. Not only had your mother insulted you, but she’d body shamed you. And now you were telling the absolute hunk of a man sitting next to you looking like an Adonis? “But I like it, still.” You finished lamely.

You looked up then to see Ollie staring at you. The fire in his eyes had returned. The same fire he’d had when you asked him why he’d called you his partner. “It’s very flattering. Your mother is a lovely woman, but clearly blind.” He spoke with an almost comedic level of seriousness. You fought the instinct to brush off the compliment. You didn’t want to. You wanted to believe him.

You tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled to yourself. “Thank you.” Your voice was soft.

After that day on the beach, Ollie became significantly more protective of you. More possessive. He was always around you. He brought you coffee and breakfast, he fixed little things around the cabin for you, he planned activities for you both to do.

You wouldn’t have thought him a hardcore hobby guy, but he took you rock climbing, and snorkelling. He took you to a local pottery studio, he brought you to the library in town. He always had you doing something.

It was starting to drive you crazy.

You had wanted to relax?! Not that you didn’t enjoy the activities, and his company, but it never stopped. You were on vacation. You had planned to lie on the beach for two months straight, eating, drinking, and probably smoking a lot of weed. Now here you were, sober, and painting in the woods.

You felt guilty. This was a beautiful activity, and you were genuinely enjoying it. But it just hadn’t been what you planned for. You would have loved a few things here and there, but not every day, all day long.

You decided to tell him that evening. The painting class ended, and you were actually pretty pleased with your work. It was a life painting of the little waterfall and pond the class had been set up next to. You weren’t anything special, but you were proud of it nonetheless.

Ollie jumped into his old, open jeep and carefully placed both of your paintings behind his seat. He leaned across the bench seat to offer you his hand. He pulled you up onto the bench like you weighed nothing. It’s something he must have done 100 times by now, but every single time, you blushed like a fool. Your core heated at the casual way he handled you.

“You’re not heavy, you know.” Ollie broke the silence as you headed back to the camp.

“… what?” You asked, confused.

“You always look so worried after I help you into the car.” He glanced at you then back to the road. “You’re not heavy.” He stated matter of factly

You blushed again. He had no idea.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I’m worried about that.” You lied lamely. You’d always been bad at lying. You chewed on your lip.

His brows furrowed slightly. “Ok, so if that’s not it,” His voice was smooth and deep. He didn’t speak much. Even now. He mostly used basic gestures to communicate. But sometimes, when you were alone, he’d talk. You loved it. More than you probably should have. A warmth spread from the centre of you and radiated out. “what is it then?” He continued, pulling you out of your own thoughts.

“Uh, what is what then?” You replied, hoping he’d drop it if you pretended not to understand.

“Why do you blush so hard every time you get in my vehicle?” He asked. There was no getting around that one.

You sighed to yourself. Do you tell him? What the hell, you thought to yourself. What does it matter if he thinks you’re a horny slut? He’s just some guy you’re going to see for another month and a half, then never again. Who cares… right?

“I… gods this is embarrassing,” you started. You saw his one eyebrow raise. “It’s… ok… it’s hot as fuck, ok?” You forced out. You could feel how warm your cheeks were. This was worse than you thought it would be. You cared more than you liked.

“… what’s hot?” He asked slowly. You died a little. Of COURSE he was going to make you spell it out.

“Omg Ollie, I just… I’m not… small alright? So having a very attractive man casually lift me like it’s nothing?” You stared out the open window, unable or unwilling to look at him. “That’s really hot.”

He nodded slowly beside you. You could see in your peripheral that his cheeks had also darkened.

“Is it hot because any man is lifting you, or because I’m lifting you?” He finally asked.

Jesus Christ

“You know,” you started, your voice an octave too high. “I REALLY haven’t given it much thought.”

It was silent in the car for a long time.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore. “So…”

He didn’t look at you. His knuckles were white on the wheel.

“So what are we doing tonight?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He replied, too quickly. Your heart fell. Here it was. Just like always.

You were quiet the rest of the drive. He dropped you off at your cabin. Normally he’d jump out and open your door for you. Not tonight. Had you really read him that wrong?

You shut the door behind you and turned around to speak. Before you could, he shifted the gear and drove slowly away.

You spent the evening alternating between disappointed, embarrassed and annoyed. It surprised you how hard it was to keep your mind off of it. Normally rejection rolled off of you. You were pretty used to it, unfortunately. Dating while fat was… something else.

But this was different somehow. You cared this time. It hit you like a truck when you realized it. For the first time, in a very long time, you cared.

You hated it. You hated giving someone that power. Being vulnerable wasn’t something you did well.

You had spent your entire life being “too much”. You were too big, both in personality and body. You were too loud, you had too many emotions, and thoughts. You talked too much. And people were not scared to tell you. You couldn’t even count the times and ways people had defined you as “too much”. The blatant words, the subtle actions, the micro aggressions. That was your life.

But not him. He had told you his favourite thing about you was how much you talked. Which, honestly, felt fake, but it was hard not to believe his genuine eyes. He had done so many things to make you think he…

You instinctively shut down that train of thought. You shouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s made it clear you read things wrong.

The next day came slowly. It was raining. You rolled over in bed, not eager to start the day. You debated going back to sleep, when you heard dishes clinking.

You shot up, fear ripping through your chest. Had you imagined that? No. You heard it again.

A chill settled in your bones as you carefully, silently, crawled out of bed. You wore a skimpy tank top that barely covered you. It was low cut, you never wore a binder/bra, you didn’t need to, you had been blessed with only tiny handfuls for tits, and it rested under your waist showing your lower stomach. The booty shorts you wore didn’t make things any better. They were practically underwear. You debated trying to throw more clothes on, but knew the closet doors creaked.

The little cabin was small, but the bedrooms were on one side, and the kitchen on the complete opposite. You made your way towards it, picking up a badminton racket on the way. It had been discarded in the hallway after another one of your activities with Ollie.

You raised the racket above your shoulder and took a deep breath to steel yourself. This was it. You slowly stepped around the corner. Your mind filled with murderers and villains.

The tall, pale green half orc that was bent over the stove with his back to you was not what you were expecting. You practically sobbed with relief.

“Ollie?!” You demanded, your voice cracking and sounding a lot more desperate than you’d like. He turned slightly, but didn’t look away from whatever he was doing.

“Good morning!” He said cheerily. “Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to make you breakfast to make up for yesterday.” He continued. You noticed now milk and eggs on the counter. The smell of food wafted towards you.

You didn’t say anything. Your brain was struggling to compute. You had like 7 questions. How had he got in? Why did he do this? Why did he think it was ok? But most importantly, what does he mean ‘make up for yesterday’?!

Just as you realized you’d been standing there, slackjawed, not answering, for far too long, he turned. As soon as he saw you, he froze. His cheeks went dark green and the flipper he was holding clattered to the ground. You were confused for about .02 whole seconds before you remembered you were almost naked.

“Uh, I’ll be right back.” You blurted out and raced back to your room. You threw the door shut and leaned against it. What the hell was he doing here? In your cabin! While you were asleep!

Your mind raced as you threw a loose tee over the tank, and a pair of thin sweats on. You made your way back to the kitchen.

“Ollie, I think we need to talk about boundaries-” you started. You stopped when you noticed the front door was open. You looked from the door to the kitchen. He was gone. A thin plume of smoke started on the stove. Something was burning.

A quick toss of the pan into the sink dealt with that. You turned off the burner and leaned on the counter in bafflement.

No, fuck that! He doesn’t get to just run away from this!

You ran after him.

You stormed down the little path, through the camp, and straight to Ollies cabin. You always thought his cabin looked less like a vacation home, and more like a regular home.

Three raps rung out as you knocked on the front door.

No answer.

You were like 90% sure he had gone home.

“Ollie, I know you’re in there. We need to talk.” You called. It was silent for a long moment. You almost began second guessing yourself.

“I… I can’t.” Came softly from inside.

Can’t?! CAN’T?!

“Like HELL you can’t!” You shouted through the door. You cringed slightly when you ended up being louder than you’d meant. A couple walking by stared at you. You raised your hand and smiled unconvincingly.

“Ollie,” you continued, a bit quieter. “You just broke into my cabin while I was sleeping. We are talking about this, right now.” You gritted your teeth. “Open. The. Door.” You left no room for discussion.

A long moment passed with no reply. You fidgeted. Just when you had started to consider squeezing your ass through a window, his voice came through the door.

“It’s open.” He answered.

Oh.

You turned the handle and pushed the door open. He sat, in the afternoon light filtering through the window, on his couch, head hung so you couldn’t see his face, with a large pillow gripped in front of him.

He looked sad. You hadn’t expected sad. You don’t know what you’d expected, but not sad. You steeled your resolve.

“Ok, this has gone too far.” You started. “You’re a great guy, but you don’t seem to understand boundaries, so I’m going to lay them out, clear as day, and if you cross them again, that’s going to be it, Ollie.” You finished and crossed your arms. He looked up through his curls. He looked like he was in agony. You instinctively took a step back, surprised by his intense reaction.

You shook your head, trying not to let those puppy dog eyes break you down. “How do you keep getting into my cabin?” You demanded. “And don’t give me some shit about it being unlocked. I know it was locked last night.”

He looked up, further. His eyes scanned your face. He seemed to be debating if he wanted to answer. You waited.

Finally “I… have a key.” He said, guilt lacing his words.

“A KEY?!” You practically shouted. “Where the hell did you get a key?!”

He groaned and leaned back on the couch. He ran his hand across his face. “I own it.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What does that mean?” You said slowly, dangerously.

“I, I bought the campground a few years ago.”

“You own the ENTIRE campground?!” You demanded. Your voice had started to enter dog whistle pitches.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He buried his face in his hands. The large pillow was squished and stuck out at weird angles.

“You never came back.” He said quietly. The dam broke. “One day, you just never came back. 4 years went by and I did everything I could to find you. No one had information, no one knew how to contact you or your family. I kept coming back every year, desperate to see you again, to hear you again. But you were never here.”

He glanced up at you. You felt numb. His eyes were filled with sorrow.

“4 years after you last came they were going to shut it down. It hadn’t been doing as great and the owners were old. They told us it would be the last year. I had some money from my grandparents inheritance, and…” he shook his head at himself.

“I couldn’t let the only connection I had to you disappear. Even if you never came back, all those places we had spent time in, the feelings I had for you, here I got to live in them. I felt you everywhere. Every little memory.”

His cheeks were a deep dark green, but he seemed unable to stop the flow of words from his mouth for the first time in your entire lives.

“I made a lot of changes, put a ton of work in, and the campground is doing great now. This is my life here. I don’t run the day to day anymore, but I live here, I maintain it.”

He looked back down at the ground. “And you finally came back.”

You stood there, stunned. Long moments of uneasy silence passed between you.

“Ollie this…” you didn’t even know what to say. Panic started to rise in your throat. “This is too mu-” you heard yourself start to say it. The words you’d heard your entire life. Too much.

“I need to go.” You blurted out and turned to leave. A noise came from behind you.

Ollie grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. He pushed you against the door, your back to it. He held you there with his hands against the door next to your head. His huge arms framed your face and he bent down to look at you. His face was so close.

“Please, don’t go, just listen, I-” he stuttered. Desperation filled his eyes. Frustration filled yours.

“No!” You shouted. “You don’t get to stop me. You don’t get anything!” You poked his chest, jabbing your finger accusingly. “You don’t get to reject me then tell me you’re obsessed with me!” You spat, the words cruel. You didn’t care. Your nerves were frayed. You didn’t know how to handle yourself after his confession. His obsession.

Confusion pulled his eyebrows together. “Reject you…?” He asked. You blushed. You hadn’t meant to bring that up. But apparently even now, your stupid little monkey brain could only think about that.

“Yesterday.” He still didn’t understand. “And today.” He grimaced but still seemed not to understand. You rolled your eyes and ran your hand through your hair. “You’re so dense sometimes.” You muttered.

“Yesterday, I told you… that I thought you were hot, and how turned on I was, ok? And then you just ran away.” You couldn’t look up at him not with his face so close. Not with his eyes boring into yours. Not with his lips just inches away. “And then today, you see me in skimpy clothes and run away again.” You couldn’t believe you were about to say it. “Like, I get if I’m not your type, but… I guess I just thought you felt differently ok?” You looked up into his eyes for one second before looking back down. The desperation hadn’t gone away, but it looked hungrier than before.

“This doesn’t even matter, I shouldn’t be talking about this right now.” You placed a hand on his chest and pushed softly. He didn’t move. “I need to process what you just told me, and I’m not thinking right.”

“I didn’t run away because I wasn’t into you.” He said. His voice was surprisingly hoarse. Gravel had filled his throat. You looked up in surprise. His cheeks had a new kind of heat to them. Hunger filled his eyes. But there was also fear. You could see how unsure he was.

“I ran away, both times, because I was about one second away from throwing you to the ground and fucking you.” Your breath caught. Your eyebrows pulled together slightly. You shouldn’t be so happy to hear that, you thought. He’s crazy. He’s obsessed with you. Like actually.

But he’d never hurt you.

A small voice in the back of your mind said.

“I love you.” He held your eyes. His gaze softened slightly. The hunger didn’t go though. Neither did the fear. “I always have. I could listen to you talk for the rest of my life. You’re funny, witty, gorgeous, and a bit of a dumbass.” He smirked. “I would do anything for you.” You believed him. “Just give me a chance to show you.”

He moved one hand from beside your head to rest it on your waist. He pulled himself into you. His hard chest pressed against yours, the solid door against your back. You couldn’t breathe.

You felt hot. You felt like you were standing on a knife’s blade. Fall into him, into this crazy, terrifying fantasy, or fall back into reality. What if you could make fantasy a reality? Did you even want that? Some rational part of you screamed. He had been in your home while you slept. He bought an entire huge business because he might get to see you again. He was obsessed with you. He was dangerous. How many times had he let himself in while you slept? What could he have done?

You felt yourself shaking your head before you’d decided to. You pushed your hand on his chest again. “Ollie, I need some space. I need to think.” You said.

“Please,” he begged. “Please just let me show you how well I can take care of you. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” Some part of you wanted that to be true. Wanted him to be true. But could you handle the obsession? What if it went deeper, darker.

You shook your head again and he let out an exasperated groan. “You’re not giving me a chance.” He complained. And edge of mania had started to show in his voice and expressions. “I need to show you. If you just let me show you, then it will all be ok.” He spoke fast and low. You felt his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, then the hem of the tank top underneath.

“Ollie-” you warned.

“No, no, just, you don’t understand.” He cut you off. He leaned down and kissed your neck. You froze. “I’ve been waiting years for you. You think now that I’ve finally got you back, I’m going to let you go?” Darkness seeped at the edges of your vision as fear took hold. “That moment a month ago changed my life, and I’ve spent every second since learning about you.”

His hand on your waist tucked under your tank, and he placed it against your ribs. His hand was huge. Almost comically so. And it rested just inches from your chest. No fabric separating you any longer. All he had to do was move up.

His other hand came down to hold the back of your neck. He pressed you even harder against the door. His breath was ragged as he kissed up and down your neck and shoulder in between words.

“I know what you like. I know how you like it. I’ve watched you.” A sob wracked through your chest at that. The first time you’d reacted outwardly since he started kissing you.

“You’re so lonely. I’ve heard you cry in your bed at night. I’ve heard you beg to be loved. That’s what I want to do, baby.” He pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. “Let me love you.”

“Let me love you.” Ollies plea rang through your head. He was so close. Too close.

“Let me make you feel good, love.” He said. He pushed his knee between your legs, parting them. You gasped and wiggled but he held you firm between his hand on your waist and his arm bracing the door by your head.

You didn’t know what to do. You could scream. Somehow that felt like the wrong thing to do. You knew you weren’t thinking straight. You could feel your cunt throb against his leg.

“I want to show you how well I know you.” He nuzzled into your neck, nipping at your soft flesh. You couldn’t help the half sob, half moan that ripped from your chest. “I want to show you how well I can take care of you.” He pleaded with you. He raised his knee and ground into your clit through your clothes. You moaned and tried pushing him away. He didn’t budge.

“Please, Ollie, don’t-” you tried to beg him to let you go. Just as you started talking he reached up under your shirts and rolled his thumb over your nipple. You choked on your words.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.” He whispered into your neck. “But I thought you’d never look at me that way. Until yesterday.” He squeezed the nipple he was rolling. Your back arched instinctively and you pushed yourself into his body. He groaned.

“Everything about you is so expressive.” He practically growled. The words flowed like they’d never been stopped up before. “I used to imagine you were singing. The melody of your voice. I would play beautiful instruments in my mind worthy of keeping up with you.”

He ran his lips up your neck to your jawline. You felt him tremble slightly. He didn’t kiss you there. He just lingered. “I wished a thousand times I could talk to you. That I could open my mouth and words even half as clever as yours could fall out.”

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. You were still pressed against him, your pussy was resting, and throbbing on his leg. His thumb rolled your nipple slowly while he spoke.

“But you didn’t force me to talk. You were ok to let me be silent. I never got to thank you for that.” You saw a pain flash through his eyes. He didn’t break eye contact and you found yourself unable to. You were surprised when your own heart throbbed at his pain. “You were… are the only person in my entire life to accept me as I am, no expectations.”

He kissed you. It was soft, warm, but just like everything else, desperate. You didn’t move for a moment. You didn’t know what to do. He kissed you harder, and you felt his anxiety rise. The panic that you weren’t going to kiss him back. You felt how badly he wanted you to kiss him back.

And then you realized, you wanted to. You wanted to kiss him. Not like this, but you did. Some where along the lines, you’d developed feelings for this huge, stupid hot, and completely crazy man. You knew it was dangerous. The fear chilled you. But the desire warmed you right back up.

Suddenly you were kissing him back. Your hands were in his hair, on his neck, his shoulders. He leaned in even further, crushing you against his chest. His other hand came down to your neck and gripped you tightly. The hand on your chest explored further, touching all of you. Just as quickly as it started, it became overwhelming.

“Ollie, stop, not like this.” You said in between kisses. You tried pushing him back again. He growled again, but this time it was frustrated, feral.

“Stop pushing me away.” His words were heavy with warning. “You want this, me. I know you do. Just let me show you how good i can be. How i can make you feel.” He spun you around faster than you could react. He pressed you against the door, his hard cock pressing into your lower back. He twisted one of your arms behind your back and held you there. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you wont give me a chance.” His other hand snaked back under your shirt and pinched your nippled, hard. You gasped. “I know you’ll love it, eventually.”

Tears started to spill from your eyes silently. You didn’t fight back. You knew there was no point. He was so much bigger and stronger than you. It was more than just that though. For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to. If he was telling the truth, he knew exactly what kind of things you liked. You knew how wet your pussy was already. Being taken against your will was probably your number one fantasy.

BUT IT IS JUST A FANTASY

You shouted inside your mind. You should be screaming. Fighting, kicking, anything! And yet, as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, all you could do was think about how hot that was. He threw you around like you weighed nothing. And he wanted you, so badly. You had never been desired like this before. Not to these extremes.

He threw you down on his huge, orc sized bed. It was reinforced with a thick wood frame. You instinctively curled into the fetal position. The tears hadn’t stopped, even if you didn’t really feel that sad. You were in a strange state of disconnection. On one hand you logically understood how wrong this all was. How dangerous this was. What he was about to do to you. But emotionally, you couldn’t care less. You were dripping wet, and the way he felt about you gave you butterflies. The way he talked about you and his feelings for you, made you feel valuable. It wasn’t something you had experienced much in your life. What he had said about you being the only one to accept him, rang in your mind. Was he that for you? Could you accept what he was about to do to you because he was the only person you had never been too much for?

You could give him permission, you thought. Then at least it wouldn’t be r*pe. But a part of you knew no matter what happened, it still would be. And another, quieter, more insidious part knew you’d rather it be forced. To finally fulfill that deepest darkest fantasy.

Ollie stood over your curled body on his bed. “You’re so beautiful.” He muttered. He didn’t seem to be speaking to you, but about you. It made you blush regardless. What was wrong with you? He bent down and tried to pry your limbs apart. You held to yourself tightly.

“Don’t make me hurt you. I don’t want to, but you need to listen to me.” The warning had returned to his words. You didn’t relax your position, but when he tried again to move your body, you allowed it this time. “Good pet.” He purred, satisfaction lacing his voice. Your cunt throbbed at his words. He slowly raised you up to a sitting position.

“Take off your shirt, love.” He said softly, but with intent. You found yourself staring into his eyes while you crossed your arms across your chest to reach for the hem on either side. You paused. He nodded once, and you slowly pulled both shirts up and over your head. His breath caught as your chest was revealed. You were surprised to find he hadn’t stoped looking into your eyes, and after the shirt was past your face, your gazes caught again. You blushed and squirmed under his intense eye contact. Instinctively, you lifted your arms to cover your chest. He raised one eyebrow in a disapproving way and you froze. He reached out and gripped both of your forearms.

“If you can’t keep your arms down, I’m going to have to restrain them. This is your only warning.” You lowered them and he smiled. Your heart thudded in your chest, his approval suddenly the most important thing. Where had that shy boy gone? Where did this confident, dominant man taken over? He moved forward, kneeling with one knee in between your legs. He pushed you gently until you were lying on your back on the bed.

Ollie lifted one of your legs, and started tugging at the hem of your sweats. it suddenly became too much again and you bolted back up. Your hands gripped his on the cuff of your pants. “Wait,” you panicked.

Ollie sighed. “I warned you.” You didn’t understand for a moment, until he reached by the beds headboard and pulled an already attached silk tie out. One end was tied to the frame. An alarm went off in your head that you silenced immediately upon realising he’d prepared for some eventuality of tying you up. He quickly grabbed your right hand and started tying it tightly to the headboard. Now the panic really set in. It was too real. You started crying in earnest, blabbering and begging. You weren’t coherent. Even you didn’t know what you were saying.

It was too late.

With one hand tied, he snatched the other and repeated. You pulled and wiggled, but he clearly knew what he was doing. The ties were soft, and not tight enough to hurt, but the knots themselves were solid. He returned to slowly removing your pants.

“Please Ollie, it’s not too late, you can stop still.” You pleaded. You honestly didn’t know if you meant it or not.

“Baby, you know I can’t stop.” He replied in a patronizing voice. “I need you, don’t you understand that?” He pulled the sweatpants fully off, and you were left in only your little shorts that were basically underwear. The cold air answered the reality you had been dreading. You were soaked. Your shorts definitely had a wet spot. And if you somehow hadn’t been sure already, the look of pure, animalistic satisfaction that spread over Ollies face, solidified it.

“I knew you’d like it.” He said smugly. “I told you, i know what you like.” He leaned forward, knee in between your legs again. He brought his face next you yours and whispered in your ear. ‘I know you’re a desperate slut, just begging to be fucked into oblivion.” He placed his huge palm against your clothed cunt. The heat was tangible. “Luckily for you, I’m happy to oblige.” He teased. His voice cavalier and excited. It was like he couldn’t understand how far past ok he had gone. He raised his hand from your cunt and brought it back down in a swift, hard smack. You cried out, not able to stifle yourself. It devolved into a long drawn out moan. “You can’t lie to me, beautiful.”

He turned and kissed you, hard, frantically. His hands roamed over your body. He ground his knee up into your clit again. Your breath hitched as you tried desperately not to moan again. He pulled himself away and looked down at your still clothed pussy. He looked mesmerized.

Ollie slowly hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged down. You pushed your ass into the bed, trying to keep the shorts from pulling down. He glanced up at you, a look of impatience on his face. “Lift.” He demanded. You relented. The shorts peeled from your skin, highlighting just how wet you were. You squirmed in embarrassment both from the exposure and the fact you were dripping. He folded the shorts and tucked them into his pants pocket. You didn’t miss that he had tossed all of your other clothes.

He leaned forward, hand reaching for you, but you started wiggling violently, trying to close your legs. “Wait, wait, Ollie, no you need-” He stopped and smacked your inner thigh, hard. You cried out, the tears redoubling. You pulled at your restraints and tried to push your legs from their positions on either side of him. He held them down.

“Do you need me to tie your legs up too?” He said condescendingly. You cried, not answering. “Hmm? And maybe a gag too?” He started leaning back, reaching for something behind him.

“No no no no, Ollie, that’s not what i mean, stop, just listen to me a second.” You begged. You sighed with relief when he paused and looked back at you.

“It’s just...” You started, then suddenly felt shy. He waited. “It’s just, you can’t touch me… yet.” He cocked his head, clearly perplexed. You wished you could hide your face. “You can’t.. I can’t…” He held your eyes, not giving you an out. “I can’t be the only one naked.” You spat out finally.

You don’t think you could ever describe the look that crossed his face then. You understood you were basically giving him permission now. And you were no longer fighting it in any way but for show. He had you, and he knew it. Thankfully, he didn’t rub it in your face.

Ollie leaned back up, until he was resting on his own legs, bent and still in between your open thighs. He smirked as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. You’d see him shirtless many times. It was a campground with a beach after all. But this time, with the settings, the circumstances, it was much more intense. The daylight filtered in through a window, and no other lights were on. Thin curtains stopped anyone from seeing inside, but did little for the light. He was muscular and toned, the light rays almost illuminating him. He was beautiful, and not overly ripped, but clearly did a lot of physical work.

The green of his skin was slightly paler than on his arms, but was replaced with a surprising amount of freckles. You hadn’t really noticed them before, but now that he was so close and you were hyper aware of everything, you saw how his skin was covered with tiny, barely visible freckles.

He started undoing the buttons on his pants. His cock was visibly hard through them. Your breath caught. You squirmed at the idea of being utterly taken by him. He hooked his thumbs under the hem of both his pants and boxers. He leaned up as if to pull them down, but stopped and raised and eyebrow.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice leaving no room for defiance.

“Wh… what?” You asked.

“What do you want?” He asked again, enunciating each word.

“I…” you couldn’t believe he was making you say it. “I want you to take off your clothes.” You said, finally. “Please.”

He sighed hearing that, and continued pulling them down. His hard dick sprang out and it was huge just like everything else about him. You were halfway between excited and terrified. You didn’t think it would fit.

“Don’t worry love” he said, reading your expression. “We will get you nice and ready first.” He leaned over your body, his chest pressing onto yours. His dick rested against your thigh. He leaned in to your ear and whispered “and I’m not going to fuck you until you ask me to.”

He sunk two fingers deep into your cunt with no warning.

You cried out and arched your back. His fingers alone were probably thicker than any cock you’d taken. His eyes were glued on your face.

“I love you so much. I’ve been in love with you my entire life. I tried dating other people, I tried letting them in, but I couldn’t. I always compared them to you.” He spoke softly as he fucked his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt.

“I never felt safe enough to open up, and then there you were. Finally back. At first I was scared you wouldn’t recognize me. But you did. Then I was scared you wouldn’t like me, but you did. It was just like we were kids again. I almost kissed you that day.” You tried focusing on his words while he lazily thrusted into you. He was clearly not trying to make you cum. Just rile you up. You squirmed under his touch and words. It felt strange and alien to have someone want you so much.

“I spent years telling myself if I ever saw you again, I’d talk. I’d tell you everything. About myself, about my feelings. But then I saw you, and I was a kid again. A dumb kid with a crush and no ability to do anything about it.” He kissed your neck and chest while he spoke. You felt worshipped. “It didn’t make it any easier that you’re just ridiculously attractive.” You gripped the ties holding your wrists. The fear was bleeding out of you with every word.

His tone shifted. “I know I fucked up, I know I’m not… not a good person, I’m so sorry.” He sounded genuine. A pain you didn’t expect, while he was fingering you no less, laced his tone. You believed him, despite his apparent unwillingness to stop.

“Ollie,” you said breathlessly. He paused his kissing and looked up at you. “We,” you moaned between your words. “We can talk about that shit later, ok?” You found yourself smiling at his dumb face.

It was that moment you realised you might be just as crazy as he was. You wanted him to fuck you. It didn’t matter to you that a few moments ago you were crying and begging him to stop. You wanted him. You were pretty sure it wasn’t just because you were desperately writhing on his fingers. Pretty sure.

He smiled back and slowed his movements until he stopped altogether. He didn’t say anything and just looked down at you, smiling like a fool. You whimpered and ground yourself against his fingers. He groaned in response.

“I can’t believe you thought I wasn’t into you.” He teased.

“I can’t believe a lot of things, ok? I’m a self conscious idiot, and you might be a crazy stalker, I haven’t decided yet.” He chuckled and thrusted his fingers deep into you, once. You moaned loudly.

“Please.” You said, almost by accident. A dark, hungry look covered his face.

“Please what, beautiful?” His voice had lost all joviality. He was dead serious now. The words he’d been waiting his entire life for, were so close.

You squirmed on his fingers. He stayed still, staring into your eyes. “Ollie…” you trailed off. You looked away from him. You knew he was going to make you say it, but you really didn’t want him to. You felt embarrassed begging for him.

“Please say it.” He asked quietly. You were surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. Your eyes dragged back to his and you could easily see the precipice he sat on. A similar one you teetered on earlier. One simple sentence and you both could have everything. Fall into the reality of what he’d done, into the messy, scary world of pushing everything good away to hold a place for the bad he’d done and the way he’d hurt you. And he had hurt you. Or, you could both plunge into the fantasy, the dream, the feelings you’d longed for your whole lives. To belong. To be loved. To be accepted as you were.

You took a steadying breath. You could see he was trying to not react yet, but the fear and worry in his brow was unmistakable. “Ollie, what you did wasn’t ok. And how you handled this wasn’t right. I honestly don’t know how to forgive you.”

His face fell. He didn’t look upset with you.

“But,” his breath caught as you continued. “I’d like to try.” You smiled softly at him. Your heart throbbed as he hesitantly smiled back at you.

“Please, for the love of gods, please fuck me.” You spoke with conviction.

He didn’t waste time. In seconds his huge fingers were replaced with his huge cock. He teased your entrance, coating his dick in your wetness. He leaned forward and kissed you deeply. It wasn’t desperate any longer. It was passionate and hungry and eager.

He slid the tip of his cock into you and you groaned at the stretch. “Fuck you’re tight.” He practically breathed into your ear.

“You’re so big.” You whined out.

“I know you can take me, baby.” He peppered your face with kisses while he pushed further. His breath hitched as he claimed another inch. He was moving painstakingly slow. You knew he was doing it for you, to not hurt you any further, but he was also driving you crazy. Every bit he sunk into you, you were desperate for more. You wanted to be absolutely filled but him, to be taken and owned. You wanted his powerful body ramming into yours.

You squirmed and tried pushing back against his cock. Ollie raised an eyebrow. “Please…” you trailed off.

“Are you ready?” He asked, incredulous. You nodded and chewed on your lip. You gazed up at him above you. His eyes were heavy lidded and his face was flushed. He was so beautiful. He smiled down at you and gently cupped your cheek.

And then he was inside you. He thrust the rest of the way, in one, hard push. You screamed, fear at being heard forgotten. He chuckled and covered your mouth with his hand. It dwarfed your face. He held your jaw while he pulled out and sunk back in.

He set a brutal pace, pounding into you. The extreme stretch started feeling more comfortable and your screams turned to moans behind his hand. Ollie pressed his fingers against your lips and you opened your mouth. Two thick fingers played with your tongue. He worked them deep to the back of your throat. He held them there, slightly gagging you on them. He smirked.

“Say it again.” His tone teasing but his eyes serious.

“Say wha-at” you sputtered out between thrusts and his fingers. His smirk twisted the other way and he frowned slightly. His pace slowed and after a couple more thrusts, he stopped moving. He pulled his fingers from your mouth. “Why…” you panted.

“Ask me to fuck you.” His eyes lit up at the prospect.

“You just were, why did you stop?” You complained and ground your hips into his. He snapped his hands tight to your waist and held you in place. “Ollie…” you whined. You gave him the best doe eyes you could.

“I told you what I want.” His voice was stern but you could read his amusement. He liked seeing you desperate for him.

“Why do you keep making me say embarrassing things?!” You demanded. You tried moving on his still deep cock once more and his grip tightened to a painful extent. You’d have bruises for sure.

“Keep saying them.” He leaned forward to suck on your neck. You gasped as he worked a dark hickey into your skin. You whined without words, desperately trying to instigate his movement again. He held you tight, moving down your neck to your chest, leaving a line of deepening bruises in his wake.

You realised he wasn’t going to let you out of saying it before you finally actually started talking. You tried putting it off as long as possible but he wasn’t wrong when he said he knew how to make you feel good. You were getting past desperate and moving to unashamed and wanton.

Finally, “Please Ollie, please fuck me.” He grinned against your skin. You didn’t stop. A string of only semi coherent pleas spilled from your lips. “I want to feel you cum in me, I want to feel you wreck me.” Some part of you still held onto that embarrassment, but mostly you didn’t care anymore. And Ollie loved it. The most beautiful sounds in the worlds were of you begging for him.

He snapped his hips back into motion and your pleas shifted to half moaned words and expletives. You had been brought close and denied, your pleasure slowly building but never releasing, and whether he meant to or not, he had you at the brink in moments.

Your orgasm ripped through you with almost no warning. You cried out his name and gripped his back, nails digging in like claws. Your passion threw him over the edge as well and he trapped your lips in a rough kiss as you felt his hot cum flood your insides. You felt more full than you even thought possible.

You rode out your orgasms locked tightly together, his hips stuttering as the last few ropes filled your already full cunt. Everything that had happened, the emotions, the hormones, wiped your mind right out, and before he had even pulled out, you were dozing in Ollie's arms underneath him.

**********

You woke, apparently hours later, since no light came through the windows. The room was dim, but the door was open and light spilled through from somewhere else. You were wrapped in Ollies massive bed, several blankets layered on and around you, pillows framing your body. It was like a cozy nest and you snuggled in deeper.

The smell of food wafted in from the rest of the home and you thought you heard low humming. You couldn’t help grinning to yourself. You had a hot, huge half orc making you food after railing you? Yeah, you could get used to that.

You heard soft steps coming towards the room and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to stay in this moment for a little bit longer. You heard Ollie pause at the door. He stood there for a few moments, not saying anything. Did he know you were awake?

You opened one eye just the barest amount, just so you could see. You hoped it wasn’t obvious. You told yourself it was dark in the room. You could see Ollie’s form, arms crossed over his broad chest. He leaned against the doorframe, face split with a wide smile. You still couldn’t tell if he knew you were awake.

He stood like that for longer than you’d expected. Long enough that your pretend sleeping became real. You drifted in and out, hovering right between awake and asleep.

You surfaced as you felt Ollie’s lips gently press into your forehead. You nuzzled against his face, and his breath caught. Ollie’s fingers danced along your jaw as you slipped back under.

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azems-familiar · 9 months ago

Text

not a gposer, so i don't have Much, but a friend of mine posed Lelesu and Hythlodaeus the other day for me and i thought these were really cute:

(i did do the edits on the second one myself)

Another random WoLQotD/OC question

I thought I'd ask this while I worked on my other questions. :)

If you're a WoL x NPC shipper, what drew you to that ship and why? What makes that ship the pinnacle for you and your oc? Is it that you love the canon character you write them with, you find their dynamic interesting or something in between?

If you're not a WoL x NPC shipper, but you have a ship with another person, how did that come about? What makes that ship fulfilling for you? Has the ship impacted your relationship with that other person? Feel free to gush, I wanna hear it!

Oh, and pictures are a must (if you have them).

#ffxiv #bounces up and down excitedly #okay so. for my various wolships. there are different things that drew me to each of them #usually it's a mix of liking the character; there being an intriguing dynamic; and the npc adding something important to my oc's arc #with haurchefant i just really liked him and the things he said were so easy to read as romantic #and lelesu in my brain really liked him! i liked aymeric a lot also but didn't ship her with him #until after haurche had died and aymeric was the one helping both her and ishgard through their grief and upheaval and things #and that just really settled them into place #for hyth and emet.... hyth just came along originally because i saw his dynamic with emet and was like oh. cannot separate them ok they're #clearly all three in love. got it. but then that developed overtime #it was the tragedy as well as all the little subtle nods to it through shb that really got me attached to emet #and ultimately the way lelesu's story developed around all these relationships and how they influenced her is why they're all so good #she does also have an important oc relationship: her friendship with corrain #who belongs to davi/sunderedazem! they have a few shared universes #the relationship developed organically because davi followed me around on corrain as i played the msq #and at one point i went 'well he's followed her around so much they must be friends by now' and then we started talking about it #they work really well together and i know corrain at least has given a lot of depth to lelesu's development #and i love rp so it's always good to hang out a lot with a good friend :)#edited to add the images because i forgor

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whompthatsucker1981 · 1 year ago

Note

you said you think gay sex cats is the new duchamp's fountain. i dont disagree and i kinda see what you mean already but please elaborate

it was a silly and tongue in cheek way to say that a lot of people are getting mad about it in a way that implies reactionary views on art, and that there's no way to say gay sex cats isn't art that wouldn't also imply that the fountain isn't art. a funny meme image is a funny meme image, but it is also funny to overthink and recontextualize them as art.

and the reaction makes the comparison even more apt. neural net generated artworks are anonymized mass produced images, vast majority having no artistic pretension or meaningful content such as a thomas kinkade painting. gay sex cats was made with no intent to be art, but the discourse it has with audience reaction and its appropriation in derivative works make it so. why is gay sex cats not art if people talking about it negatively allow it to be called art? is art only things you find beautiful and valuable? if so, what is value and beauty, and how do you draw the line? if gay sex cats was still ai generated but had more "aesthetic qualities" would it be art? if someone copies the original image by hand with all its ai generated faults where is the value generated? does the original still have no merit of its own, even after appropriation as a digital ready-made?

but the main reason as to why gay sex cats is comparable to the fountain still is because it made a lot of people with bad takes on art really really mad. and that the pissed off tags wouldn't look out of place as reaction to modern art in the 1920s. art is a flat circle

EDIT: well. putting an addendum because in retrospect more people took either or both the op and image in face value and much more self serious than ever intended. a lot of people understood the tone i was getting at, and i still stand by the questionings i added on, but still for clarification. the original comparison is not serious. it's self evidently ridiculous to compare a meme image to a historically significant artwork, the comparison was only drawn because they were both controversial to an audience, who reacted denying their status as respectively as an image and as art, and that it was funny that the negative reaction people had to the original image explicitly denied its status as art, even if the meme never had pretension to be art, so it was funny to draw a comparison and iterate on that.

i did think it was valid to bring in questionings about art and meaning because that's the reaction i saw most and wanted to make people think about the whys, and that also i do not think it's valid to base your dislike on ai art on either grounds of questioning its position and value as artwork, or even as a question of ip theft. regular degular handmade art can be soulless, repetitive, thoughtless, derivative, unethical, open and blatant theft, and much more, and that does not make it any less of an artwork. neural nets are tools that generate images by statistic correlation through human input.

the unambiguous issue with neural nets in art is its use as a tool by capital, to threaten already underpaid and overworked working artists and to keep their labor hostage under threat of total automation. in hindsight i regretted not adding the paragraph above as it was a way in which people could either misinterpret or assume things about me, but hindsight is hindsight and there's no way to predict how posts would blow up. so shrugs. i had written more posts in my blog that elaborated on that because asks would bot stop coming. and i think my takeaway is that people will reblog anything with a funny image without reading the words around it, or even closely looking at the image.

#oobs im noticing some grammar error. common translating in my mind L #ai art discourse

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sharkylass · 1 year ago

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ALRIGHT IN STARS AND TIME FANDOM, I'M BOUT TO HIT YOU WITH MY TAKE ON THE BELOVED SISTER!!

Those who don't want to get spoiled about little details about Bonnie's sister (or the game at all for that matter- There's spoilers for Act 3 and 4 in here so YOU'VE BEEN WARNED)

SAY HELLO TO PETRONILLE!! Or how I am going to call her, Nil. I've seen a few people do their take on her, and I wanted to join in!

@insertdisc5 I am sorry in advance if you have a vision for her, especially if it is WILDLY different to mine-

KEEP IN MIND, I AM GOING TO BE RANTING A LOT, IVE HAD THIS IN THE MAKING FOR A WHILE, THERE'S MORE ART, SO SKIP AHEAD IF YOU'D LIKE

First thing's first! I tried to figure out what she would look like in the original style. I didn't want to overly detail her with my normal style, and I wanted her to somewhat fit in with the rest. Bonnie was clearly the strongest inspiration , she has their eyes, the black hair, white thing around their head to bring attention to her face- That's also why she has lip piercings! To bring more attention to her face (and due to Bonnie's earring type, I assumed piercings can exist in the world)

Her ear has 3 earrings, that was not intentional, I just thought it was cool. I like to think they perceive those as "regular" earrings, and even if a person wears bonding earrings, they can also wear more normal earrings.

I just had the image of her not really having a short range weapon, so maybe it's time for someone with a semi-long range weapon to join the team! In my head Nil seemed to be the type to like getting dirty with her hands, so a rope seemed fitting somehow.

Also- She is paper type! I liked the idea of her looking like such a rock type, but being paper. I considered making her dual type, but since those are rare, I didn't want to get ahead of myself. Admittedly, that does make the party a little overloaded with paper types, so if she was to be in a game with balancing, I'd probably change her to rock or something. BUT AS A CHARACTER THING- she remains paper.

(EDIT: I was just reminded of the huge hammer she broke a wall with, so that is ABSOLUTELY a valid replacement weapon for her. If she was rock type that would be her weapon for sure. Altho it IS funny to imagine she broke the wall and swore off heavy weapons for life. I like to think thats what happened with my take on Nil)

Mechanically I think she wouldn't be too dissimular to Isabeau, but instead of boosting the party, she debuffs the enemy. Particularly slowing them down, and lowing defense. Alternatively, I can see her being a second healer of sorts, but while Mira is good at healing everyone, Nil is good at healing a single person and giving them a boost (just things she learned to take care of Bon). I do see her attack not being that high tho, probably lower then Mira.

ALRIGHT, TIME FOR MORE ART

Her dynamics with everyone:

Bonnie:

I like to think Bonnie got their spunky attitude from somewhere. So I like to think Nil is very playful with them, even if she is looking out for them. Bonnie clearly knows the difference between lighthearted serious, and SERIOUS serious. They also seem to revel in compliments, so I like to imagine they are used to receiving them from their sister!

Nil is the most serious around Bonnie tho. As their sole caretaker, she's trying her best to keep them out of trouble while teaching them and letting them grow at a normal pace.

However, when she's with the adults- I described it like- Around Bonnie she can be serious and a voice of reason. When she's with adults tho she herself becomes the Bonnie, so to speak. She's loud and a bit hot-headed.

Mirabelle:

I swear I saw Insertdisc mention that Mira and Nil would have a bit of a rivalry going on AND I'M SO HERE FOR IT-

The two of them are those siblings that fight constantly, but the moment someone else gives either of them shit, the other will go for the jugular. They mainly try to compete for Bon's affection and who's the better sister, and they get a bit... blindsighted. Nil usually doesn't go out of her way to spoil Bonnie I don't think, I think she tries to be reasonable with them where she can. However with Mira in the picture it becomes- a little hard... Nil doesn't like the thought that she's being replaced

However, if either of them needs it, the other will be there. Nil provides Mira with a strong shoulder to lean on, and Mira provides an emotional yet reasonable approach to the situation bothering Nil.

Odile:

I like to think at first Nil didn't really get along with Odile. Supposedly Nil has a bad relationship with her parents, so I imagine her seeing someone who's a parent aged adult who holds seemingly more authority- It would... Unnerve her for a little while.

Odile will probably give her something to do, and Nil would refuse, because who is Odile to be ordering her around?? You know. Like a child. But with time they get used to the dynamic, Nil grows to respect Odile at the very least, and Odile picks up on the fact Nil seems to respond positively to positive reinforcement from her.

Having someone close, to break that pre build idea in Nil's head with positivity, despite Odile being strict and struggling to show affection- It would do her a lot of good, and Nil will eventually thank her, and apologize for being so rough to her in the beginning.

Isabeau:

Isa and Nil are actually very similar- I did not mean for it, but I hope they don't end up being TOO similar.

They are both loud, love to laugh and take care of those they love. Even their hobbies are a bit more similar then everyone else. Nil likes gardening, and taking care of things, and Isa likes to create clothes. Both of them are in a way creating something. Nil making sure what she's taking care of grows to be big and strong, and Isa is more literal-

Where they differ is in smarts partly. Isa is clearly very book smart. I think Nil would turn to him if she had a general question about something (and later on Odile once she gets used to her). She completely encourages him to show more of what he knows.

They also differ in their buffness slightly. While Isa is still the beefiest on the team, he did it with the intention, he trained. Meanwhile I think Nil just likes the field work so she's constantly outside doing heavy dirty work.

I like to think that after being unfrozen, Nil's clothes were roughed up and she didn't really think to or have the time to fix it. So I imagine Isa saw the roughed up state of her pants and gloves, and made her some himself, Which she treasures but GOD she is not used to receiving anything from anyone, LET ALONE gifts.

They also similarly hide their insecurities under bavado. Isa hides his smarts to be liked, and Nil hides her fears so she can be brave. I'll go more into detail when I get to Nil's own section. (I SWEAR I didn't mean for Isa's section to be so long I PROMISE-)

Siffrin:

These two don't do a lot of talking I'd imagine. While Nil is used to being loud, I think she'd get used to the silence around Sif and simply enjoy the quiet.

A lot of the ideas I had with those two were very touch focused. I assume Nil struggles with touch because of potential childhood related traumas, and not being warned sends her into a fight or flight. While Sif is deeply unused to it but craves it.

I still imagine Nil isn't an inherently NOT touchy person- I mean. Bon's the touchiest little guy out there. So maybe she knows how to warn people of when she's about to touch them, AND she is more used to asking for hugs and affection. So after she learns that Sif struggles asking and being startled, she became the person that would encourage them and tell them how to do it. In every single drawing where they're touching just know that either she warned them or they asked for that touch.

Also Nil is a very grounding reminder for Sif that he's not in the loops anymore. So if they get a particular scare, like they were woken up wrong, they had a rough sleep, smelled a banana, remembered the king- anything involving going back- Nil serves as a reminder that they're here, with everyone, in the present. No going back. So that, combined with their touch therapy, it results in him being particularly physically clingy with her. She squeezes their hand ocassionally. It's a grounding reminder.

Nil is also UNBELIEVABLY THANKFUL for Sif, once she learns about how they lost their eye. The fact Sif went out of their way to protect HER little sibling- It means the world to her, and she wouldn't wish it on Sif one bit. She probably holds guilt that she couldn't take the hit for both of them, Bonnie is her responsibility! They probably end up having a conversation similar to Sif telling Mira "Do you think she was wrong? To save you?" She doesn't know about the end of act 3

AAAAAND NIL HERSELF!

A lot of this is already information I mentioned. Her being a paper type, her liking bugs, being traumatized, startled by touch- But I drew these beforehand, so!

I imagine Nil ran away young, cause Bonnie doesn't remember her running from their parents. What happened in there, I do not know and I don't think I'm capable of imagining. It might not even be as dramatic as I illustrated it. But either way, she grew up being the sole caretaker of Bonnie. I'm sure Vaugardians were kind and that they didn't have to struggle too hard for food or a place, or to get Bonnie into a school- But Nil still wanted to learn how to be self sufficient, how to provide in case something happens. It might be why they live in Bambouche honestly, Nil learned how to grow plants and being close to the sea is good for catching a lot of fish! ...It was also at the edge of Vaugarde. Probably the edges where the King's curse reached slower.

She likes getting her hands dirty and working outside, so I imagine she's a bit sunburnt! If only on her shoulders and cheeks.

Growing up alone, self sufficient- She probably had to grow a bit fast (even if she indulges in childish things with Bonbon). She quickly started repressing all fears, all questions of her decision to run away. I imagine she's actually insecure in her abilities, how Bon deserves more capable people in their life, how she doesn't really know anything and how she literally got frozen and Bonnie had to fend for themselves- After Bon comes back, she's so filled with admiration and adoration for her little sibling. They really went to the ends of the earth and saved the world. What a brave little sibling she has.

The new family kind of... Feels like a threat to her title as sister at the start. All 5 of them saved a country. The people Bonnie met are strong, knowledgeable, been all over the world- She's glad they protect Bonnie. She just wishes she had something to offer. It takes her a little while to realize they are also there for her too.

I was ranting to a friend, and I am pretty sure we know Nil would like to travel after everything. Being able to explore her more child like fantasies, with the safety blanket that is the family- It means a lot to her. She gets to truly indulge in living and letting loose and depending on people for the first time in her life.

Afterwards tho... I like to imagine she would settle down. It takes a while, but she likes having a place to call her own. And so we talked about how she would probably have a ranch of some sort. I like to imagine she'd love having horses. A way for her to remain free spirited, while taking care of creatures and having the security of a place to rest at the end of the day. And if she chooses, she can go wherever she wants with those bad boys!

My friend mentioned they might have goats or sheep or chicken, and I'm all aboard for that too. I'm not settled on the idea of a farm life for her, but I like it.

Also if I dare pull a Dreaming One for a second- Bonnie and Sif are like little siblings to her, Mira is like a twin (or relatively same aged), Isa is like an older brother, and Odile the everlasting grandma.

ALRIGHT THAT TOOK A WHILE-

Sorry, I started drawing her for fun and just started BRAINROTTING about her out of nowhere.

I still have little doodle ideas but this was already getting so lengthy so I am going to leave it here, and maybe return another day.

I just deeply wanted to establish Nil as her own character who can fit within the group's dynamic and belong in the family. While she very much IS Bonnie's sister and that's such a big part of her, I wanted to expand her a little further.

If you took the time to read, THANK YOU. I HOPE YOU LIKE HER, AND THAT YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL REST OF YOUR DAY

P.S. IF YOU DRAW OR WRITE WITH HER I BEG YOU TO TAG ME

#OH! AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! MAY IT TREAT YOU WELL #long post #isat #in stars and time #isat siffrin #isat bonnie #isat mirabelle #isat isabeau #isat odile #isat nille #in stars and time nille #isat spoilers #in stars and times spoilers

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befemininenow · 10 months ago

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It may be a week late, but I hope your Valentines was amazing this year. Here's a little throwback from Escafa (aka Spawnfan) of DeviantArt fame. (If only transitioning was that easy.)

Created back in Valentine’s 2013 as an MTF transformation sequence, it's about a person (in this case, a man) who has a crush on a tomboyish girl. Unfortunately for him, she's a lesbian and does not like men. What the girl on the right doesn't know is that the person presenting as a boy has the ability to turn into a girl. Their female equivalent is a blonde bombshell and the shocked tomboy falls for her. The last panel shows some form of affection for the new lesbian couple.

At the time I saw this post, it was definitely a hot favorite of mines since I was really into MTF genderbending. 11 years later, however, my opinion on this piece is conflicted. Don't get me wrong: the girls are cute, especially the pretty blondie, who is definitely trans girl goals. However, there’s three problems with this piece:

Is the transformed girl transgender? Do they identify as a girl? What if they’re genderfluid, bigender, or even non-binary?

What are the chances this relationship may get impacted if the person in the left switches between genders based on their mood?

As cute as it seems that the left person will do anything to make the tomboy girl so happy, this piece is also part of the MTF transformation genre, which can be off-putting for some due to it’s fetishized and/or kinky nature.

I still think this is one of the better MTF TG transformations since the left person transformed themselves by choice and not by force (the latter is very common on those transformations). Yet, I can’t help but envy the transformed girl for her pretty looks and cute outfit. If only transitioning was that easy.

These were the kind of pieces that I was into before figuring out I was trans myself. This particular line art became one of Escafa’s most popular pieces and one of the most popular MTF TG transformation pieces. In fact, the one you see here is a vector repaint from another DeviantArt artist named P@ntied-Princess (their account is deactivated).

The ones you see online are reposts in ranging quality from good to really pixelated. This one, however, is not only the highest quality post I found, but it’s the one I saved from the original account. I had to use an image search engine and digital archives to find it. I’ve seen a few caption edits of this art throughout my searches, but they’re not in the best quality. Maybe with this repost, there could be some better editing to match with today’s time. Anyways, happy belated Valentine’s Day!

Original art tracing belongs to Escafa (aka Spawnfan). Vector painting done by P@ntied-Princess.

#tg transformation #mtf tg #valentines day #tg art #anime tg #happy belated valentine's day #deviantart #transgender #nonbinary #genderfluid #trans lesbian #lesbian #lgbtq fiction #drawing #flashback #throwback #art not mine #original art #repaint

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local-diavolo-anon · 1 year ago

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i apologise if i'm posting this much about the DLC but i am very excited

so theory time! this time about Glamrock Bonnie!

someone found Glamrock Bonnie in bonnie bowl and someonw else got his pieces from the gamefiles and stuck the model back together (the images are not mine, i have no idea who even psoted them ebcause they've been reposted a crapload of times, but i know the originals came from twitter)

i feel a bit sad than logically he was there the whole time during the main game as well and we simply couldn't see him

but also: He has claw marks on his chest, which i think pretty much confirms that monty is the one that broke him apart.

however. that's not nearly enough damage to decommission a glamrock animatronic, as we have seen.

hell monty looks like this in the dlc and he is still kicking (probably by the power of god tho) and i remember seeing THIS video some time ago, so let me bring you something a bit painful:

most people i've seen pinpoin monty's actions toward bonnie as envy and resentment, however in monty golfs whenever we see character cutouts or holograms Freddy is the one in the shadows, always. wouldn't have made it more sense for monty to try and attack someone he quite clearly disliked instead of bonnie? we know freddy and bonnie were close, so with some stretch you could even say monty was jealous of freddy's relationship with bonnie (but i'm not going to account that here) If the theory from that video is true and bonnie was the first and only trial test of the grlitchtrap virus on a full glamrock animatronic, what if monty noticed? what if monty saw that bonnie was acting weird, and when confronted him realized something was severely wong for a reason or another? and either to prevent the spread of the virus, OR simply out of self preservation he was forced to fight with bonnie? because if the mimic were to see someone noticed him, he'd likely try and make them disappear in one way or another so my theory-timeline is: Bonnie was infected, started acting weird, wandered around and ultimately ended in monty golf, monty saw him and went to him, then noticed something was wrong, bonnie attacked him to make sure nobody knew, and monty had to defend himself.

i'm fairly sure this is at least somewhat correct because Monty's claws can do some serious damage, and definitely more than what Bonnie's torso and head show. (edit: yes even without upgrade, Monty still has very big and sharp claws, realistically they could totally do that amount of damage, + in the original draft of the game, from Monty you were supposed to take his legs, and the claw upgrade was not a thing at all, yet it was always hinted he did caused bonnie's decommission)

all of this to say that bonnie more likely was decommissioned not because of the damage, but rather because because when technicians tried to fix him they noticed something had infected him, and to prevent any further spreading they were forced to deactivate him.

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sovietpostcards · 1 year ago

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Russian State Library

The biggest library in Russia and one of the biggest in the world. It was designed in late 1920s, soon after the birth of the new Soviet state, and fully finished in the 1950s. In includes 4 buildings and one 19-floor book repository. There are several reading halls, a cafe, and a whole bunch of book-filled nooks and crannies.

I'm writing this post sitting in the library's biggest reading hall - Reading Hall No. 3. It was opened in 1957 and still retains most of the original furniture and design (only there are now individual power sockets in every desk). Most of the tables are occupied by people with books and laptops. It's very quiet.

The book depository is a huge building that rises high above everything else in this historical area. It had 10 floors originally, each 5m high, but later it was divided into 19 smaller floors. We visited one of the floors. I was impressed to see that the windows are made out of Falconnier glass blocks (made specially for the library in Gus Khrustalny).

There are two automated delivery systems in the library: one delivers readers' orders into the depository (pneumatic tubes) and the other delivers books back to the reader (monorail). We had a chance to see both of them in action, very impressive! They also kept a bit of the old book delivery system that worked from 1953 until 2015. I saw it on pictures before, and it was great to see the granny in real life. :) There are a lot of "grannies" in the library, from the green lamps to rotary phones to wall clocks. The pneumatic tube system has been in place since 1975. People whose job is to preserve books are very likely to preserve everything else.

I loved this anecdote. In one of the reading halls, there's a big painting of Lenin (pictured below). Apparently it was put in place in mid-1950s to cover the bas-relief that was there originally. On the bas-relief there are Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, Vladimir Lenin and Joseph Stalin. After Stalin's death in 1953 and debunking the cult of personality, images of him were quickly removed from everywhere. The library, being true preservers of history, kept theirs but covered it up. It just shows what kind of people librarians are. :)

Although the library is working on running a full digital catalogue of all their 48 million items, if you want access to older editions you'll probably need to use the old paper card catalogue. The room gave me major nostalgy - I remember using this kind of catalogue in my local library when I was a kid. The sound of pulling out a narrow box, then the little built-in table, going through the cards one by one, writing down what you need on library cards. It was a whole process! Of course, the local library's catalogue was WAY smaller.

A few more shots of interiors. Although the building itself was designed in 1920s (during the era of avantgarde and art deco), the interiors were mostly done in 1950s when the main design style was neo classicism.

I enjoyed this tour immensely, so much so that I had to go back and get a library card so I can see more of it, sit in every reading hall and drink a cup of tea in the marble hall cafeteria. Also, the idea of 48 million books at the tip of my fingers makes me giddy. Thank you to my followers for the monetary support and making this real for me: K. T., H. W., T. B., m., @depetium, @transarkadydzyubin, S. R.

#it's a great place to work #i wrote this post finally #libraries #russia

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haru-dipthong · 19 days ago

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Fansub Release + Translation Notes on Utena Ep 16

I’ve been dreading this episode since the beginning of this project. Most translations of the cowbell episode have two major problems that I knew were going to be really hard to overcome in my translation.

How on earth does Nanami not know that a COWbell is something that a COW wears?

Why does Nanami keep saying moo in regular conversation?

When I actually got into the translation though, it was so much more difficult than I had even anticipated! Not only were there two very large episode-spanning translation problems to solve, but there were also TONS of difficult individual lines. And on top of it all, a song to translate!

I was not happy at all with my first draft. I sent it to @dontbe-lasanya and went to bed. When I woke up and saw their edit, it was like magic. They had transformed my extremely rough script into a work of art! I’m so so happy with this episode now, and the majority of the credit for that has to go to Anya.

So anyway, how did we fix those two big problems?

How on earth does Nanami not know that a COWbell is something that a COW wears?

Obviously the Japanese word for cow is not “cow”. It’s 牛 (ushi). However, the Japanese word for cowbell is カウベル (kauberu) — it’s a loanword; it’s just “cowbell” turned into katakana. There’s no obvious connection between the words for “cowbell” and “cow” in Japanese, unlike English. Also, カウベル is not a very familiar word for most Japanese kids and teens (the target audience of Utena) and sounds foreign and therefore fancy (given the right context). On the other hand “cowbell” is a very familiar word in English, or even if it isn’t, “cow” and “bell” are. It also doesn’t sound fancy or foreign.

In Japanese, Nanami falls into some cringeworthy teenage social pitfalls in this episode. 1. The classic japanese kid thing of assuming katakana loanwords are cool or fancy. 2. The universal kid thing of pretending to know a word she doesn’t know to seem smart/cool. These things are like, a HUGE part of the conceit of the episode. IMO, it’s crucially important to get these ideas across in the translation. To fail to do so (i.e. by translating カウベル as “cowbell”) would be akin to cutting out the first 8 minutes of the episode.

Translators will often translate katakana loanwords directly back into the original word, but that clearly doesn’t work here. Anya decided to go with almglocken as the translation for カウベル because Miki is the first person to give the cowbell its name, and almglocken doubles as the orchestral term for a musical cowbell (plus the yodelling in the cutaway scenes really sells the German choice, which we only discovered after we had committed to it!). I love how that scene feels where Miki names the bell - it really feels like he and Juri call it an “almglocken” and Nanami just goes along with it, not wanting to admit that she doesn’t know what almglocken means. She totally reads as a stupid kid who wants to be a part of European high fashion without actually knowing anything, which is exactly how she reads in the original Japanese script!

Why does Nanami keep saying moo in regular conversation?

First things first — the sound a cow makes in Japanese is not “moo”. It’s モー (mō/mou) which is prounounced almost exactly like the English word “more” in non-rhotic accents like my Australian accent. In an American accent it probably sounds like “mall” without the ending L sound.

So, cows say “mou”. But もう (mou) is also a dictionary word in Japanese. It can mean “already” as in “I already did that”, but it can also be used as an interjection (similar, but not exactly the same, to how “already” can also be used as an interjection as in “enough already!”). もう (mou) carries other nuances with it as well — there is a cultural image that teenage mean-girl types (like gyaru) tend to use it a lot. I like translating it as “ugh”, which I did several times in this episode.

The writers are getting a lot out of the cow metaphor in this episode. There’s the whole thing with Touga selling Nanami away as a metaphor for his manipulation of her (and women in general) in order for him to gain patriarchal power (he even eats her meat!!). But there’s also this equating of cow mooing with the word もう which is associated with young girls. Whenever Nanami moos this episode, even right up until the end when she physically transforms into a cow, you could translate it as “ugh” if you didn’t want to preserve the cow sound meaning. Every moo fits into her sentences as a bitchy interjection.

This is a hard thing to get across in translation, so I used a combined approach. Sometimes I directly translated もう as “ugh”, which morphed into “mm-ugh” and then “muuoo”. Other times I compensated by using words with “ooo” sounds in them and drawing out the sound (like “moOOove”.

Dona, dona, dona, donaaaa

As I mentioned in my post yesterday, while translating the song, I made particular pains to match the meter of the Japanese lyrics with the English lyrics.

あるはれた　ひるさがり　いちば　へつづくみち

One day on a clear lazy afternoon, on the road to the marketplace

A literal translation of the line would be something like this

One clear afternoon, on the road to the market

But I’m sure you can see how this doesn’t have nearly enough syllables, much less stress on the correct syllables. Because Japanese has less consecutive consonants, it tends to have words with more syllables, but shorter syllables than English. They don’t have words like “cramp” where 4 consonant sounds exist in one syllable — usually there’s only 1 consonant per syllable. This means that if we’re matching beat-for-beat, English can fit more words in per bar, which means when translating literally, we end up with lyrics that are too short! That’s why I’ve added “One day on a” and “lazy” and extended “market” to “marketplace”. This came up constantly during the translation of the song, where I was consistently needing to create words that didn’t exist in the original to keep the meter similar.

A few little notes to finish

This scene where the girls in PE class are chanting ファイト！(faito) while they run is hilarious to me because both other translations I have access to translated it as “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” which is just… not what they’re saying. Obviously in English chanting “fight!” makes it sound like you’re encouraging two people to physically fight. In Japanese, ファイト is a loanword and does come from the English word “fight”, but it only means “fight” in the sense of like, metaphorically fighting: overcoming mental barriers, pushing through, doing your best. They’re just chanting to get their motivation up. I translated it as “Move those feet! Move those feet!” so that when Nanami brings up the rear I could switch it to “MoOOove those feet!”

Translating it as “Fight! Fight!” is just completely unacceptable no matter what your translation goals are tbh. If you care about “preserving aspects of Japanese culture” in the translation, you should translate it as “Faito! Faito!” or “Fighto! Fighto!”.

I want to note that I’m so happy with how the characters talk about fashion. They really sound like they know what they’re talking about (thanks to Anya). So much of the time translations sound like they were written by someone who doesn’t have any knowledge about the field the characters are talking about, which makes the dialogue sound super forced even when the characters ARE supposed to know what they’re talking about. To give another example, Anya flagged this before with how Touga talks about Miki’s piano playing. The standards are so low for this kind of thing that my limited knowledge of music helped me write a translation that sounded knowledgeable enough to be worth commenting on!

Also, I’m REALLY glad we went with “dyke” as the translation for 男女 (otoko-onna) a few episodes ago. Nanami uses that word again this episode and Utena’s reaction really works with the slur.

Thank you so much again to @dontbe-lasanya. This episode wouldn’t have been possible without you!

Be sure to follow the blog to stay updated with new episode releases! See below for all episodes released so far.

#revolutionary girl utena #rgu #shoujo kakumei utena #sku #utena #translation #utena fansub #japanese translation #learning japanese #japanese #langblr #official blog post

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0wemonz · 6 months ago

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lil comic of my two favorite characters

also i gave kogoro eyelashes and eyeliner because he's literally babygirl ok bye

takagi is one of my favs as well, sucks he keeps getting whitewashed-

i noticed whenever i draw someone i give them so much blush, its like putting makeup on a character whenever you draw em

BASED OFF THIS

i also saw a Dungeon Meshi comic which is where i originally found the image but i seriously cannot find the comic and im so upset, IT HAD CHILCHUCK AND IZUTSUMI SO CREDIT TO THEM FOR THE IDEA

Edit: TY @aria0fgold FOR FINDING THE COMIC FOR ME

https://www.tumblr.com/ninoacca/753633381010571264?source=share

#kogoro mouri #mouri kogoro #richard moore #dcmk #dcmk fanart #wataru takagi #takagi wataru #kogoro with eyelashes LORDDDDD

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kozachenko · 10 months ago

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[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

#touhou project #art #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 19 #touhou #東方project #zanmu nippaku #unfinished dream of all living ghost #reimu hakurei #東方

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viridescentelf · 3 months ago

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In your debt - Final Part

Young Halsin x Reader

Hey guys! This is the final part of my Young Halsin saga lol. I may continue doing some other fics with this version of him, but I am quite frankly out of ideas for now.

I am not all too proud of this part. There are certain scenes that just don't hit as hard as I'd like, but I've been editing and tweaking for days now. I'm finally just accepting it is what it is and basta!

Original idea for young Halsin belongs to @ozumii-fucking-wizard! Please go to their blog and follow!

Warning: 18+, violence, general nsfw, explicit sex, oral and penetrative, rough

For previous parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

If you want a spicy song for "the moment", give this a listen. It's what I listened to while writing it lol

Word Count: 8k sorry lol

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Halsin listened to your plan and decided it was too risky. He rejected it in an exceedingly kind way, as his smile hypnotized you to refrain from arguing. You conceded, for now, but asked that he share his plans with you, once there were any. He agreed, reluctantly.

In the next few days, you noticed him speaking to two other druids in hushed voices. You surmised they were Frelma and Danan, the two he mentioned that would help him topple the looming drow and goblin threat.

They would hurriedly finish their meals and then gather at the edge of the forest. It was fairly obvious that they were doing something they shouldn’t, but you couldn’t tell if the Archdruid, or Anwen, suspected anything. If they did, they didn’t show their suspicions around you. Halsin joined Anwen in prayer every evening. You were allowed to observe. One time, you noticed Anwen cross her arms and eye her adoptive son from head to toe, while Halsin nervously sputtered something about “studying”. If you could tell he was lying, you were certain she could. But she didn’t press him, to your surprise.

Your healing was complete. You felt a surge of energy and strength within yourself after the final session with Halsin, but there was also a twinge of sadness. You enjoyed these tender bouts with him. The feeling of his warm hands upon you made you yearn for more. He would often lower his head and listen to your abdomen and a strobing image of him between your legs made you twitch and gulp down your lust, embarrassed that he may feel your body temperature rise dramatically.

You weren't certain the feeling was mutual. You thought you saw him blush a few times and try to hide it or noticed a devoted spark within his viridescent eyes as you complimented his duck figurines. The way he touched you, it felt different than how Anwen healed you. As if he was exploring.

You would talk for hours now. You taught him a few chords, he showed you what amazing things you could find in the forest – creatures, plants, food. He even taught you how to carve wood. He would sit behind you to guide your hands while you carefully sliced through the bark. His touch was so gentle. Some nights you two would sing together, that addictive laugh of his when he messed up a note or lyric; It almost made you swoon.

He loved learning about your travels, the city and misadventures you’d had. He confessed he was slightly bored of the forest and wanted to go on long explorations. He even joked about joining you – at least you thought it was a joke. The way he looked at you when he said “Good night”; Most evenings, it felt he had a difficult time leaving your side.

You couldn’t be sure: maybe he was just like this with everyone.

Halsin told you his current plan while you helped him forage one afternoon. They would track the goblins’ markings through the forest to the stronghold and sneak inside. He showed you the footprints peppering the muddy ground near the village entrance. Once there, they would eradicate the leaders, leaving the goblins without guidance and unable to organize. It sounded so simple, but once you pressed how three druids would manage to fight off a hoard of goblins and tactical drow leaders, he placated you that they were well trained. At the question “What if the goblins overwhelm you?” you noticed the druid’s eyes jitter across the floor. It looked like he hadn’t thought of that, but quickly shook off his reaction.

It was your last day together. Halsin decided he would leave with his group the following morning. Your healing had finished, after all. His task was done. You had no reason to stay in the druids’ village any longer. They all assumed you wanted to get back home – which was the furthest thing from your mind.

You had tucked the children into bed with a lullaby once again and found the druid waiting for you outside the barn. Leaning against a nearby tree, you sensed heightened hesitation on his end, unusual for him. You tilted your head as you watched him scan your features. Letting his arms drop, he approached you slowly. Your heart thudded against your chest.

“Y/N,…”, he looked deeply into your eyes as he grasped your hands within his. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you. I wish we’d met under different circumstances. Please know you are always welcome in the High Forest! Thaniel adores you, the children adore you, my mother thinks you’re a riot. And I… well…” You saw him swallow harshly and your insides started combusting.

WHAT? SAY IT!

The young druid squeezed your hands slightly, his jaw clenched.

“I..”

The courage he was building up collapsed suddenly. He dropped his head and let out a sigh.

“Thank you for everything. I hope Silvanus permits our paths cross again. If I survive tomorrow.”

His laugh felt forced.

Your face muscles unclenched and your brows tilted upwards. That was it? You couldn’t suppress the pulsating disappointment. It showed in your eyes. What did he stop himself from saying?

Halsin looked disappointed as well. He stared off to the side and let go of your hands, taking his time.

You stood in silence for a while. The unspoken truth hammering in your chest. His reluctance threw you off. Did he not feel the way you did, after all? Did he not want you?

Your own bravery shrunk within itself. The words you had prepared in your head for days were fogging fast.

“Halsin,” you started with the first coherent thought, “Please let me come with you. The current plan is suicide.” This wasn’t all you wanted to say. But your tongue ignored you.

His eyes drifted over your face. He saw your own hesitation and blinked slowly.

“No. I can’t see you hurt again. And please, don’t worry. If things get too hard, we’ll get out of there.”

That last line was a lie. You could tell.

The druid stepped forward and pulled you into a tight embrace. Your breath shook as your face pressed against his strong chest. The scent of his skin drifted up your nose. You felt his chin rest on your head softly, as you two swayed in each other’s arms. The hug lasted a while, neither of you wanting to end it.

There was a brief tremor and he released from you.

“Oakfather preserve you”, he mumbled, looking down at you one last time before turning to leave.

You wanted to grab his arm and pull him back to you. But the fear of a second rejection was too deafening.

Why wouldn’t your mouth open? You wanted to scream that your wish was to stay with him. Your mind threw up every single want and need you imagined with him. But nothing dared leave your lips.

Halsin entered the barn and closed the sliding door without looking at you.

The tears fell from your eyes without warning. There was so much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t muster up any remaining strength or courage to follow him.

Maybe this was for the best. You had a life back in Baldur’s Gate. And he had his here.

Perhaps this was the way it had to be. As shitty as it was.

You walked up the path slowly, the druids’ village behind you, trekking the road back to the city in the morning light. Your entire body resisted the travel home. You didn’t want to go back. Your stomach was in knots.

You loved the High Forest. The children. The druids.

You had feelings for Halsin. Whether you were brave enough to speak them into existance or not, they existed. Not only did you long for him for his eternal beauty, but the endless gentle nature that embraced you every time he gazed into your eyes. You couldn’t be certain what he chose not to divulge to you yesterday, but you regretted not telling him how you felt.

His plan was dumb. He was surely walking into a massive trap in the stronghold. Your plan was also dumb, but it guaranteed that the druids would have a higher chance of survival. It didn’t guarantee your survival, but you had waved Halsin’s critique of that small detail away the same way he brushed yours off.

The idea of never seeing him again bit your heart. You couldn’t bear the thought of him getting hurt. And he would definitely be wounded or worse if he went through with his current plan.

A snaking, disturbing thought wrapped itself around your head. What if he actually got killed?

You stopped in your tracks and gazed at the path that led back home. You couldn’t let that happen. He was a big brother to those sweet children. The forest spirit was his friend. His mother would be in shambles. You would be inconsolable.

This plan is dumb.

You felt your body turn on its heels and face the direction of the village once more. Not knowing what happened to him would be the worst kind of torture. The endless wondering if he was alright. The sleepless nights praying to all the Gods that he returned to the druids’ village safely.

It won’t work.

The tempo of your stride increased gradually, leaving gusts of dirt behind you, as you ran back. Halsin had showed you which footprints they were following. You knew in which direction they were heading.

I’m gonna die again.

You muttered to yourself as you hiked up a steep hill through the trees, the goblins’ tracks still visible in the dirt road. You spotted fresh larger prints and recognized Halsin’s boots.

You ran, holding the beautiful lute he made for you in your hand.

You found them deeper in the forest, stalking low through the high bushes, their pace steady. Halsin’s broad shoulders tensed as he led the way through the brush, flanked by his two companions—each of them with their eyes sharp, alert to the clashing and clanking of metal below in the clearing. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows that danced along the path. You could hear their hushed conversation as you approached, their words blending with the rustling of leaves.

"Halsin!" You called out, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest from the frantic, long sprint. Your face was the shade of a fire amber.

Halsin spun around, eyes wide with surprise as he saw you coming up the trail. His face softened, but there was an unmistakable flicker of frustration in his gaze: “What are you doing here? No! Get back to the city!”

You peered down at what they had discovered. A large camp stretched across a field of dead trees with a decaying ruin casting huge shadows on the hastily constructed ramparts. It emanated death, making the skin on the back of your neck prickle with fear. There was a moat around the camp with a rickety and long bridge stretching across the depth.

Gulping audibly, you returned your gaze to the group of confused druids who were waiting for an explanation. Halsin looked incredulous.

You planted yourself firmly in front of him: “I’m here to help. Your plan—it won’t work man, I just know it won’t.”

His jaw tightened, a low growl of annoyance escaping his throat: “And your plan? The one where you sacrifice yourself as bait for a horde of viscious goblins? That will work? It’s reckless, stupid, dangerou—”

“It’s the only way!”, you interrupted, meeting his intense, worried glare with unwavering determination, although your knees were giving in. Why was even his angered face hot?

“If I can lead the goblins away, it will give you and the others a real chance to take out the drow without being overwhelmed. Your plan leaves too much to chance. We can’t afford that, not with the children’s lives at stake.”

Halsin’s hands balled into fists at his sides, his voice strained: “No. I can’t let you. It’s too risky and if something happens to you again—” His words trailed off, the frustration giving way to something deeper, more vulnerable.

His two friends, who had been silent until now, exchanged glances. Frelma, a younger, halfling druid with sharp eyes and a playful expression, stepped forward: “Halsin,… I’m sorry mate, but maybe they’re right. Our current plan is… well not really a plan, is it? We’re kind of just jumping in and hoping for the best. This way…to draw the goblins out… it could give us a real advantage.”

Danan, a quiet but sturdy looking human, nodded in agreement: “It’s better than what you have been conjuring up as we go.” He turned his gaze to you, scanning you up and down. Your breath was already steady, despite having ran the entire way.

“You have good stamina. Definitely fast to catch up with us so quickly. What’s your plan for distracting them?”

You hastily flung your bag on the ground and rummaged in it. Out of the chaotic depths of your belongings, you pulled a couple glass bottles out. Holding them up, you explained: “I know, if you mix salt, scales and fungi together, it can make a decent explosive. Not too devastating but enough to cause confusion. I have salt in my pack. You guys should know how to find the rest, no?”

Frelma paused briefly then nodded, mumbling that she noticed drake markings at a nearby cave. Danan already started peering into the forest, assessing where he could ascertain the right mushrooms.

Halsin’s eyes darted between his companions and you, his internal struggle palpable. His shoulders sagged, the weight of the situation bearing down on him: “This is lunacy. You don’t understand what you’re up against here,” he said softly, almost pleading. “I don’t want to see you hurt again. Not for this.”

You got up from the ground, still holding the bottles in your hands. You took a step closer, your voice gentle but firm: “I know I don’t look it, but I’ve bolted my way out of horrible situations before. I can outrun them. You just take care of the leaders. This way, you guys can use the element of surprise to your benefit. If you go through with this without a real plan, it could be you who gets hurt, or worse. I can’t let that happen. Please… let me do this.”

The worry he had for you made your heart scream.

His gaze held yours for a long moment, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You could feel the raw emotion behind his steely exterior—because it echoed within your own form.

Frelma pressed the young druid further: “Halsin. We have to succeed today. If we lose, I do not want to know what will happen to the village.” Danan nodded in agreement. All three were staring up at the honey-haired elf, who kept his gaze firmly on you.

Finally, with a deep, resigned sigh, he spoke, his voice thick with emotion: “I don’t like this, not one bit… but… I guess you’re right. We cannot afford to lose.”

You exhaled, relief flooding through you as his words sank in: “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Halsin’s worry still clouded his features. He reached out, resting a hand on your cheek, his touch warm and grounding. Your red face turned purple.

“Run like hell,” he adjured, his voice deep and filled with a quiet intensity. “The forest needs you. The children need you… and so do I.”

You gave a small, determined nod, gripping the bottles in your hand. You leaned into his touch briefly, before he lowered his hand to turn to the stronghold.

You turned as well, ready to set your plan in motion while the other two went on to gather the necessary ingredients. Halsin stayed back to look for any shallow entryway. You cast one last look at him, before you ran after Danan and Frelma.

Night had fallen by the time you reached the outskirts of the goblin camp. Shadows stretched long across the ground, and the loud, raucous voices of goblins and drow filled the air as they feasted and drank within the ruin’s crumbling walls. The scent of roasted, sour meat wafted on the night breeze, mixing with the pungent stench of unwashed bodies and smoke. It made your stomach churn, both from nerves and disgust.

High above in the ramparts of the ruin, you squatted down, cloaked in the darkness. You moved carefully, staying low as you crept across the stone. The weight of the glass bottles in your hand was a constant reminder of what was to come. You felt your heart pound against your chest with a mix of adrenaline and fear.

What the Hells am I doing?

Below, in the ruin's hall, the three drow leaders sat at the head of the long table, their faces twisted in haughty disdain as they presided over the goblins, who sheepishly ate food scraps the drow had thrown on their tables. Two female warriors, clad in dark armor and bristling with blades, flanked a male drow in elegant robes. His sneering gaze drifted across the room like a spider surveying its web, full of contempt for his own underlings and their disappointing return. Dead goblin corpses littered the front. Their throats slit or heads caved in. You surmised the drow had made an example out of some of the goblins for their failure to capture the children. You recognized Izick, his body sprawled, bloody and discarded off to the side. So, he had survived the fall with you. But he hadn’t avoided death.

The goblins were too distracted to notice the approaching danger, but the drow remained sharp—dangerous even in their leisure.

Halsin, Frelma, and Danan moved silently, shadows within shadows, creeping through the underbrush and stone rubble surrounding the stronghold. Their presence was almost imperceptible, the tension building as they stalked closer to their target. You saw Halsin in a deep crouch near the rear of the ruin, his eyes gleaming golden in the moonlight, the instinctual urge to charge into the fray held back by sheer force of will. He waited, watching for your signal, his backside straining for a pounce.

It was your turn.

This is suicide, your brain screamed at you, but you ignored it.

The goblins below were too engrossed in eating scraps to notice you at the ramparts. Some were fighting amongst themselves for pieces of food, others drunkenly hollering at each other. It was the perfect storm of chaos, ripe for your plan to begin.

You gripped the grenade bottle tightly, sweat slick on your palm despite the cool night air. Every second felt like a lifetime ticking away. You counted the goblins below—too many to face in open battle, but just enough to chase after one tantalizing and idiotic distraction.

You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself.

I’m definitely going to die.

You shook your head. Now wasn’t the time for reason. This had to work. It just had to.

It felt like days passed as you waited for your arm to obey.

Then, with a flick of your wrist, you hurled the bottle with all your strength into the heart of the camp.

Time seemed to slow as the glass bottle arched through the air, glinting in the dim light of the torches. It smashed against a stone near the goblins' fire pit, shattering into a brilliant flash of sparks and smoke. The chemical mixture inside ignited with a crackling roar, and suddenly, flames and choking fumes exploded upward. Goblins screeched in confusion, clutching at their eyes, as a burst of light and sound sent them into a frenzied panic.

The table overturned in the chaos, food and drink spilling everywhere. The male drow snapped to attention, his sharp eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What is the meaning of this?" he barked at the goblins, his voice dripping with venom.

But the goblins were beyond control now. The noise and flames had triggered their primal instincts—fight or flight. And when they caught sight of you, darting across the top of the ramparts, they made their choice.

“There!” one of the goblins howled, pointing at your fleeting form. “Get that rat!”

Like a wave crashing over rocks, the goblin horde surged toward you, claws and weapons raised. You didn’t wait to see the full effect; you bolted, heart pounding, lungs burning as your legs carried you across the stone ruins. The cacophony of angry goblins filled the air behind you, their shrieks and footfalls growing louder as they swarmed after you like a pack of feral beasts.

You leaped from the ramparts and rolled as you hit the ground, not daring to look back as you sprinted through the muddy camp, your feet pounding against the squelching earth. They were following you, as planned, but there were so many. The old bridge loomed ahead, dark and rickety as the wind swayed the frayed wood from side to side. The goblins’ cries echoed through the night as you darted towards the peninsula.

Back at the ruin, Halsin and his companions took advantage of the chaos. With the goblins now chasing you, the main hall was left vulnerable, the drow leaders standing alone with only a few goblin stragglers, stunned and confused by the sudden turn of events.

Frelma grinned, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as she crouched beside Halsin. “Well, that worked better than expected,” she whispered.

Danan grunted in agreement, his eyes locked on the drow. “It’s time.”

Halsin's hands flexed at his sides, his jaw tight as he watched the drow leaders—three of Lolth's chosen, arrogant and cruel, their dark eyes scanning the room for signs of the ambush they couldn’t see coming. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the primal fury begging to be unleashed. A flash of you, hurt and bleeding, flitted in his mind. But he shook his head. He needed to concentrate and fulfill the mission.

“Hold,” he muttered, forcing himself to wait a moment longer. He needed to time the attack perfectly. The last few goblins hastily followed the group after the male drow growled at them for their uselessness. You had done your part - he couldn’t let the drow sense what was coming. His fingers tingled with the surge of druidic power inside him, the need to transform almost overwhelming.

Finally, when the drow leaders’ attention drifted back to their overturned table for a brief second, Halsin gave a sharp nod to his companions.

With a single, fluid motion, Halsin burst from the shadows, his body aglow with golden light as his form shifted, muscles rippling as he transformed mid-leap. His bear form crashed into the male drow, sending him sprawling as Frelma and Danan surged forward, weapons flashing in the dim light. The two female drow drew their blades, their faces twisted into sneers as they prepared to fight back.

Frelma’s blade flashed in the moonlight as she darted around one of the warriors, each strike met with a sharp parry and a flurry of counterattacks. Danan fought the other, their weapons clashing with a thunderous ring, the drow’s face twisted in a sneer of amusement. She was toying with him, each movement graceful and calculated, a predator circling its prey.

Halsin, now in his bear form, roared as he slammed into the leader, sending him crashing against a crumbled wall. The drow hit the ground with a sickening thud, and for a moment, his body lay still. Halsin didn’t have time to confirm the kill—Frelma’s pained grunt drew his attention.

The female drow were vicious. Agile and brutal, their movements were precise and deadly. Frelma barely avoided a swipe to her throat, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she dodged and weaved. She was tiring. Danan was faring no better, his opponent driving him back step by step, her twin blades a blur of death in the dim light.

With a growl, Halsin charged, shifting back into his elven form. He unsheathed his staff, the wood crackling with druidic energy, and swung it down with the full force of his fury. It caught one of the drow off guard, knocking her off balance and giving Frelma the opening she needed. Frelma lunged forward, her blade finding purchase in the drow’s side, and the dark elf let out a hiss of pain, her sneer faltering.

Danan managed to regain his footing, pressing his attack as the second female drow turned her attention to Halsin. Her cold, red eyes gleamed with hatred, and she launched herself at him with lightning speed, her blades aimed straight for his chest.

But Halsin was ready.

He sidestepped her, his staff spinning in a fluid arc, knocking one of her blades from her hand. She snarled, but before she could recover, he brought the end of his staff crashing down on her wrist with a sharp crack, disarming her completely. Frelma and Danan closed in, ready to finish the fight.

Halsin’s gaze flicked toward the male drow, still crumpled against the wall. He didn’t move, his body seemingly lifeless.

You tore across the rickety old bridge that connected the ruin to the High Forest beyond. The ancient wood yawned angrily beneath your feet, swaying alarmingly with each step, but you couldn't slow down. The horde of goblins was right behind you, their screeches growing louder as they stormed across the bridge in pursuit. The clanging of their blades on their armor punched into your ears, their claws scraping against the tired wood.

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct screaming at you to keep running. Just a little farther.

Once you reached the other side of the bridge, you skidded to a stop, panting heavily as you pulled the second grenade bottle from your belt. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you saw the goblins—dozens of them—crowding onto the bridge. It groaned under their weight, the ancient wood splintering at the edges.

This was it.

You hurled the bottle at the center of the bridge, your aim true. The glass shattered against the wood, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then, with a deafening explosion, the bridge erupted in a shower of fire and splinters. The force of the blast eviscerated the structure, sending chunks of wood and metal flying into the air. The goblins let out terrified shrieks as the ground disappeared beneath them. You watched as they tumbled into the depths below, their bodies swallowed by the darkness of the ravine.

The bridge was gone. The goblins were no more.

You collapsed to your knees, gasping for breath, a mix of relief and exhaustion washing over you. The plan had worked. The horde was dealt with. You had made it out alive. You stared at the tower, anxiety gripping your throat. Was Halsin ok?

Back in the ruin, Halsin felt the rumble of the second explosion vibrate in the distance.

As the other female drow fell to the ground, defeated, Halsin’s attention snapped back to where the male drow had lain motionless. His heart fell to his stomach. The body was gone.

Halsin’s eyes widened in horror: "No..."

A surge of cold dread shot through him as he turned toward the entrance of the ruin. His mind raced, piecing it together—Misty Step. The male drow hadn’t been incapacitated. He had been waiting, biding his time, and now…

Was he going after you?

Halsin’s stomach twisted into knots, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow.

“I need to go!”, he barked at Frelma and Danan, urgency flooding his voice, “He’s going after Y/N!”

Without waiting for a reply, Halsin sprinted toward the exit, his legs pumping furiously as he raced through the ruin and out into the night.

He dashed through the mud with fire burning in his legs, stomach and throat, inconsolable at the sheer possibility that you could be harmed. Reaching the edge of the camp, embers of the explosion floated through the darkness and the charred wood smell invaded his nostrils.

Seeing the young druid on the other side, you cheered loudly, jumping up and down with your fist pumping into the air.

Halsin stared across the deep crevice before him at your gleeful hopping form, excessive concern stretched across his face. He couldn’t jump the distance in his human form.

Where was the drow?

You couldn’t see that far, so you didn’t notice how worrisome his expression was. You were so happy to see him alive and unharmed. Your plan had worked. The ecstasy of success waved through you and left you distracted. Your loud yelps of joy deafened the surroundings.

A whooshing sound reverberated behind you. Mist flowed between your legs as you landed from another jump. A harsh tug of your hair yanked you against your will back into the air. You kicked with your feet, but the drow held his arm outstretched, clasping a clump of your tresses. The pain made your spine contort.

“Y/N!!!”, Halsin shouted across the moat, his panicked voice repeated through the stone. The young druid’s body glowed golden, as he tried to transform.

“Don’t move…”, the drow’s sharp voice hissed to the druid, as he held a dagger to your side. “Or I’ll gut them.”

The pointy, harsh edge of the blade stuck in your belly. It hovered there dangerously close to your recovered area. You tried not to squirm too much in fear of being punctured, but the pain from your cranium made you move involuntarily.

Halsin roared with fury, the golden light flashing low: “Let them go!”

The drow sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. He dragged you closer, the blade still teasingly pressed against your abdomen: “You druids... you're all the same,” he growled, voice dripping with contempt. “Always talking about balance, harmony, and the natural order, like it makes you righteous. But what do you really know of power? You hide in your groves and forests, pretending to be one with nature, while the world burns and bends to those with ambition.”

He jerked your head back further, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair, yanking your neck at an awkward angle. “Slaves, like these filthy children you’re so desperate to protect, are a necessity for those of us who understand true strength. They’re tools—nothing more. Yet you lot," he glanced at Halsin with disdain, "would sacrifice your lives for them. Pathetic."

His eyes gleamed with malice, the grip on the blade loosening just slightly as he gestured toward Halsin. “Because of your meddling, I’ll have to replace what’s been taken from me. Those ugly children? They’d have made fine thralls, but I suppose I’ll just have to make do with this one instead. And I’ll return with more, fearsome soldiers.”

The blade wavered precariously as he waved it in the air, illustrating his sick vision. His attention drifted more and more toward his rant, the gloating feeding his arrogance. “My people—we understand how the world truly works. We take what we deserve, we own, we dominate. That’s the natural order.” He flicked the blade dangerously close to your ribs again, but it was clear—he was more interested in hearing the sound of his own voice than paying attention to his hostage.

Through the haze of pain and fear, you could feel it—the rhythm of his speech, the looseness of his grip, the blade no longer pressing with the same deadly certainty. His monologue flowed, each word laced with bitterness, but it was also growing sloppier, as his arrogance overtook his caution.

“Your little rebellion here means nothing. You’ll all fall to us, one way or another. No one stands against us and lives to—"

You didn’t let him finish.

In a surge of adrenaline, you kicked your legs up, swinging your foot with as much force as you could muster. The heel of your boot connected hard with the blade in his hand, sending it clattering across the stone ground. The drow yelped in fury and pain as the force of the blow snapped his fingers back, the sickening crack of bone ringing in your ears. He released his grip on your hair with a sharp intake of breath, stumbling back in shock and agony, clutching his broken extremities.

You fell on your back with a deep thud. Letting out an involuntary grunt, the fall had momentarily immobilized you, as your body tried to assess the damage. Your spine ached all the way down to your tailbone, which pulsated with a cruel sting. Your groans echoed through the crater, joining with the drow’s wails.

You heard the clattering of steel against stone again. Opening your eyes, they filled with fear as the drow walked towards you, blade back in both hands with two fingers bent in the wrong direction. He thrust up in the air to pierce your chest. You crawled backwards instinctively, but he was too fast. His biceps flexed: he was about to swing forward.

A giant, brown beast collided into him from the side, having jumped across the abyss. The bear roared with a deep, thunderous bellow, a powerful and resonant sound that rumbled like distant thunder, carrying the raw force of its primal strength. It was a familiar intonation; you had heard it the first day at the druids’ village. The rage filled small eyes gleamed in a green shade.

Its massive paws pummeled the dark elf, who was unable to do anything other than take each mighty strike. The bear hovered over you, the brown fur tickling your arms and legs as he continuously slammed down on the adversary. The crunching and cracking noises made you wince, holding your hands over your face.

The strikes continued for a while, until the bear let out another mighty roar. You dared not look at the result of the violence, but the drow didn’t move anymore.

His beastly form started glowing with a golden hue as he faced you lying beneath him. You peered at him through your fingers.

The bear transformed into Halsin, who hovered over you panting with exhaustion and excitement. Your breath was similarly fast, exhaling the fear and burning sensation in your legs out as you stared into each other’s eyes.

Both of you let out soft chuckles. You had done it. The village was safe. The children were protected again.

His eyes twitched back and forth from your eyes to your lips as your puffing synchronized shakily. Your heart was hammering against your chest. The jade hue in his eyes twinkled with a hunger you hadn’t seen before: it was the same craving you had had ever since you met him. He was waiting for something. Without really thinking, you nodded quickly.

He fell forward into your lips. You let out a moan as he kissed you hard and his body pressed into your own. He kept himself poised above you with his strong arms, but his leg pushed yours apart so he could press himself into you. Your tongues lapped each other up, the fiery taste trickling down your throat and intensifying the throbbing in your loins.

The intensity of your long-suppressed desires finally broke free. The mixture of happiness that he felt the way you did intertwined with the drive to please him. Both of you almost died. You had survived. You wanted each other now more than ever. You were both equally happy to see each other unharmed and could not wait any longer. There was no moment to think about timing.

Halsin's strong hands caressed your face, his touch gentle yet urgent. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. The heat between your bodies grew, months of unspoken longing pouring out through fevered touches and passionate embraces.

Halsin's lips trailed down your neck, eliciting soft gasps as he found sensitive spots. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve with reverence. You arched into his touch, fingers tangling in his hair as waves of expectation washed over you.

Clothing was hastily shed, both of you eager to feel skin against skin. Halsin's muscular form pressed against you, his warmth enveloping you completely. His touch was electric, igniting sparks wherever his fingers grazed. You traced the planes of his beautiful chest, gazing entranced at his pristine physique - a vision you had only been imagining since you met him. The discarded clothes lay forgotten by your sides.

His eyes filled with primal urge, eyeing your sweat speckled body he had been carefully mending for a long time. You gazed at each other, panting from the exhaustion of the heist and the anticipation of what needed to happen between you.

The druid scooped you up in his strong arms, carrying you away from the grisly scene to a more secluded spot against a large oak tree. His lips never left yours as he gently set you down, then pressed you up against the rough bark. The contrast of the tree's coarse texture against your back and Halsin's warm, smooth skin against your front sent shivers through your body. His large hands squeezed fleshy parts of you as you gasped into his ear. Halsin growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating in your spine and making the flame within you burn blue.

Halsin's lips traced a sizzling path down your neck as he gripped your ass. He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tree. The rough bark scraped your back. He grasped his length and held it up against your entrance, staring at you with impatient craving. Yet, he waited for your approval. You hastily nodded your head and spatt out a breathy “Yes”, which was interrupted by him thrusting deep into you. Your head fell back as you cried out - he was so big. He dared not enter you fully, thrusting only half of himself into your tiny body.

He held you up, easily, kissing the side of your neck to comfort you through his wild and frantic punctures.

Your bodies moved together in a primal rhythm, finding a perfect synchronicity. Halsin's muscular form rippled with each thrust, his face a mask of passionate intensity as he grunted deeply. You clung to his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as waves of pleasure washed over you.

He carried you down to the forest floor, laying you gently on a bed of soft moss. Halsin hovered above you, his jade eyes dark with desire as he drank in the sight of your form. His hands roamed reverently over your curves before he lowered himself to you. His tongue tickled you and your back arched up aggressively into his mouth. You lay a hand on his honey hair and pushed him down into you. He obliged and licked faster, feeling you jerk and twist under his work. He chuckled teasingly into you, as he felt you get close.

“Not yet,…” he purred, staring up at you.

You rolled on top of him before he could continue teasing. You positioned yourself over his quaking cock.

Your thighs trembled with anticipation as you hovered over him. He gripped your hips, steadying you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his length. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you took him in, inch by delicious inch, until he was fully sheathed inside you.

For a moment, you both stayed still, reveling in the sensation of being so intimately connected. The druid’s chest rose and fell rapidly in the golden hue, as he fought to maintain control. You placed your hands on his broad chest, feeling the fast beating of his heart beneath your palms.

Then, with a roll of your hips, you began to move. Slowly at first, savoring every sensation as you rose and fell upon him, feeling him slide inside you was a bittersweet sensation, as your body trembled with each thrust. The stretching of your walls to accommodate his immense size sent a strange concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through you. It was almost overwhelming, the way he filled every inch of you, pushing boundaries that seemed impossible. But you couldn't deny the rush of excitement and ecstasy that came with it, making you shiver and arch your back in pure bliss. It was an experience like no other, one that left you breathless and wanting more.

Halsin's fingers dug into your flesh, guiding your movements as eager groans rumbled from him. You thought you heard him say something, but were too engulfed in riding him fiercely to activate your hearing.

He held you still with his strength and thrust up into you.

Your bodies synchronised again, each roll of your hips met by his upward drive. The forest around you seemed to pulse with energy, leaves rustling and branches swaying as if nature itself was swept up in your passionate union.

With a low growl, Halsin suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. He kissed you deeply, hungrily, as if he couldn't get enough. Then, in one fluid motion, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees.

You felt the soft moss beneath your palms as Halsin positioned himself behind you. His large hands caressed your back, tracing the curve of your spine before gripping your hips once more. You shivered, feeling his hardness pressing against your dripping hole. As he drilled into you, you felt him lean over your back, his towering form much larger than yours. His calloused hand softly wrapped around your neck, pulling your face up towards him.

You stared at each other as you let out deepseated moans, as you came all over him. Seeing the rapture flood through you, made him pound into you even harder. Halsin's thrusts became more urgent, his breathing ragged as he neared his peak.

You could feel the tension building in his body, muscles taut with exertion and pleasure.

With a final, deep thrust, Halsin let out a primal, inhuman roar. His body shuddered as he spilled himself inside you, his warmth flooding your core. You felt his cock pulse within you, drawing out the last waves of your own climax.

For a moment, you both remained still, panting heavily as the intensity of your shared release washed over you. Then, gently, Halsin eased out of you and gathered you into his arms. He lay back on the soft moss, cradling you against his broad chest.

You nestled into his warmth, feeling the rapid beating of his heart gradually slow, both your breathing matching each other.

Your bodies eased into the softness of the ground and the druid and you let out highly needed laughs.

As your giggles subsided, you both lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter. The forest around you seemed to hum with contentment, the gentle rustling of leaves and distant chirping of nocturnal creatures creating a soothing symphony.

Halsin's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. You nestled closer to him, resting your head on his broad chest, listening to the strong rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You know," Halsin began, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, "I've been wanting to do that for quite some time now."

You chuckled softly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. "Oh really? And here I thought I was the only one pining away."

His jade eyes sparkled with amusement and affection. "Pining, were you?”

“Fuck yes. When you first found me in the forest, I thought you were a God about to take me up to the Heavens. Couldn’t believe someone as handsome as you was semi-mortal.”

Halsin chuckled and pet your hair: “Even close to death, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. Although I don’t like remembering seeing you like that. I am still beyond thankful to Silvanus that you pushed through that vile injury.”

You remembered something as he spoke of your first encounter.

“Hey, you were kissing me when I was unconscious, that’s a bit rude isn’t it?”

He laughed again: “I did not, I was bringing you back from the dead, mind you! Simple first aid, but effective.”

“First aid, sure.”

Halsin's eyes twinkled with mischief as he gazed at you. "Well, if you'd prefer, next time I find you half-dead, I'll just leave you be. Wouldn't want to be accused of taking advantage."

You snorted, playfully swatting his chest. "Oh please, as if you could resist these lips, even in a coma."

He giggled sweetly, the sound rumbling through his chest again and into yours. "You're right, I couldn't. Though I must say, you're much more enticing when you're conscious and not bleeding out. You have a crazy fascination with tempting fate. I must say I’ve never met someone like you before."

"Flatterer," you teased, tracing idle patterns on his skin. "I bet you say that to all the bards you rescue from certain doom."

Halsin's expression softened, his hand coming to cup your cheek. "Only the ones who’ve stolen my heart.”

You could've fainted right then. Your cheeks flushed even more.

He grinned, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear: "You came charging into our village, disrupting our peaceful way of life with your enchanting melodies and irresistible charm."

"Ah yes, because nothing says 'irresistible charm' quite like being half-way across the finish line of life.”

Both of you laughed together for a bit longer. You reminisced about the insanity of your unsually successful overthrow of the drow base. Halsin mused over how he was going to explain any of this to others’ in the village, especially the Archdruid. You promised to take the blame, it was your idea anyway.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the forest canopy, you and Halsin reluctantly disentangled yourselves from each other's embrace. The cool morning air raised goosebumps on your skin as you gathered your discarded clothing, stealing glances and sharing soft smiles as you dressed.

Halsin's companions, Frelma and Danan, had long since returned to the village, trusting their leader to get home. As you made your way back through the forest, Halsin's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with your own. The warmth of his touch sent a thrill through you.

The forest seemed different now, more alive and vibrant than ever before. Perhaps it was the afterglow of your encounter, or maybe it was the newfound connection you felt to this place and the man beside you.

As you and Halsin approached the druid village, you could hear the Archdruid's booming voice even before you saw him. His face was contorted with fury as he paced back and forth, gesticulating wildly. Hesitating slightly, you two walked through the entrance and were met with dangerous bellows, insults and worried eyes. Dafydd hit Halsin over the head a few times with his staff, while Anwen exasperately held your shoulders to check you for any injuries. Ultimately, they were right to be angry and concerned. The elder druid placed the blame on her son, although you insisted you were the main plotter (she didn’t believe you). You were certain they would ban you, yet they showered you in flower crowns and good mead. Halsin was eventually allowed into the festivities, after promising to clean up cow dung for 6 months as punishment.

You couldn’t stay in the village, as you had no desire to convert to druidism. Relucantly you returned to the city.

You vowed to come visit often, making your trips to the forest known, so he could see you. You promised to convince Anwen that Halsin could join you on your travels one day. Although that conversation had to wait a long while.

With each visit, you found little baskets of berries from the children and a newly whittled duck figurine that made you smile under your usual tree.

And every time your form became visible upon the horizon of the village, emerging from the forest path, Halsin’s eyes lit up and beamed at you.

#halsin bg3 #halsin #bg3 #halsin x reader #halsin x you #young halsin #young druid halsin #halsin silverbough #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #halsin fanfic #Spotify

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grlsbstshot · 29 days ago

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NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis:

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson finds himself in New York for work and gets distracted by an old friend. Warnings: toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you’re white and read it, you owe us $20), manipulation – if we missed anything, let us know! Word Count: 4.1k Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

Chapter III: Fade Away

the chatter at her weekly brunch with friends was distracting. sloane lennox glared down at her phone as if it was the reason she was so pissed. jamani back on? what a terrible title for an article. what a horrible idea for jameson. imani st. cirie was everything that jameson didn't need. he was irresponsible, childishly demanding, and easily distracted. he was an artist with an artist's temperament. from what she knew of imani, the woman was the same. they just weren't a good couple. anyone could see that. she didn't get why jameson couldn't.

sloane! we're out of champagne!

"am i your mother? do you need permission? just order another bottle." sloane snapped, rolling her eyes as she continued to scroll.

she got to the images -- proof that jameson was sniffing around his ex. this was bullshit. sloane closed out of the site, scrolling her contact list and finding jameson's name. it rang in her ear, her agitation increasing the longer it went on. his smooth baritone was nowhere to be heard. the phone beeped, indicating she should leave a message so sloane simply hung up.

she stewed in her agitation, forcing herself not to call again. this was critical. jamie couldn't be pushed. if she told him to do something, he went the other way. this was going to take some finesse but sloane knew she was up to it. she had loved jameson since the first time she saw him. she knew him better than anybody

fifteen years old and shy, sloane hadn't made friends easily. only one gravitated towards her: genie adesanya. genie took sloane under her wing, welcoming her into her life with ease. it was because of genie that she'd met jameson. he had been seventeen and practically genie's stepbrother. handsome, and he knew it, jamie had charmed sloane. he'd been flirtatious but never inappropriate. eventually it settled into him cracking jokes and playing protector with she and genie. for two whole years, jamie had been hers. her friend, her protector, her crush. it all changed when he released his first album.

then he belonged to the world. jamie became james lucas. the crooning falsetto that she'd known intimately had finally been heard by the world. jamie's career took off then. sloane never had a chance to make him hers fully. her crush lay dormant, unfulfilled, while he dated his way through hollywood. models, actresses, singers. they came and went. sloane always remained. he eventually left them but he never left her.

sloane had finally gotten up the nerve to tell him how she felt in 2020 -- the same night he met imani st. cirie. she watched him walk into another woman's life but knew it wouldn't last. it never did. three years later, sloane had gotten nervous. jameson rarely lasted a year with a woman and there he was celebrating three with imani. it had practically driven her insane...but then they had broken up. she'd been so relieved that she didn't bother hiding her joy from anybody who'd listen. it caused the destruction of her friendship with genie -- but jameson remained.

he jumped into another relationship and just like clockwork -- it ended before a full year was up. sloane decided not to watch anymore. 2024 was her time with him. he had to see for himself that she was the one and only constant in his life. the only woman he could rely on.

the phone vibrated in her hand and sloane peered down at the screen with a smile. jamie was calling. now all she had to do was...shift his perspective.

it had been years since jameson was inside the moma. he spent many afternoons sitting in front of claude monet's lillies canvas when he was trying to establish a career on broadway. it felt good to return to his old stomping grounds -- this time from special invitation.

sloane had fussed and pouted until he promised to stop by and see her after his gq interview. he was jetlagged after flying to new york the day before and only planned to have a short visit before collapsing into the expansive bed in his suite.

it had been so long since he saw her face to face that he had been successfully guilted into making the time. texts and calls here and there filled the void in their friendship but it always felt better to see her in person. twelve years after they'd met, sloane was different. at twenty-seven, she'd grown up like they all had. she was an art dealer, smart as hell and sophisticated. glasses had been replaced by contact lenses. hasty ponytails had been swapped for expertly styled hair. converse sneakers turned into muaddi heels. but no matter what, she was still the girl who was trying to find her place.

he waited for her on the first floor, hands braced behind his back as he watched bustling crowds of people behind his sunglasses. several slowed to peer at him and jameson easily avoided eye contact. he didn't mind being a celebrity but he was too tired to be charming.

"jamie!" he heard called out and turned to see sloane heading his way. she wore a bright smile, expensive clothes, and heels that he was sure cost as much as her outfit. jameson quickly moved towards her, not letting her pull him into a hug. he turned her around with his hand to the small of her back and quickly walked her up the stairs. "what are you doing?" sloane laughed and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't followed.

"why'd you tell me meet you at the front door? hella people were down there. i don't feel like signing shit today." jameson fussed, not surprised that she laughed louder. sloane did what she wanted when she wanted.

"i'm sorry." she said softly, grasping his bicep as they moved to the second floor. there were still crowds there but they were much more interested in the art than they were in him. "i'm glad you came." sloane continued. "i missed you."

"i missed you too." jameson grumbled, walking along the floor with her. "we both live in cali though. why'd i have to fly to new york to see you if that was the case?"

sloane quirked a brow at him. "you tell me. last i heard, you were working on album, completely locked in, but then i find out you got time to get imani back?"

he scoffed, shaking his head but not denying the accusation. he had seen the same article and didn't give a damn about it. he didn't feel he needed to explain himself to sloane either. "you called me here to talk about my ex?"

"of course not." sloane told him. "i called you here to talk about me. my favorite subject." she let his arm go, framing her face with her own hands and jameson couldn't help but laugh. "i didn't know you'd be out here anyway until you mentioned the interview. i just wanted to see my friend. make sure he's okay. you know?"

"i'm fine." he told her, stopping in front of a painting and peering down at the brunette by his side. confiding in sloane wasn't strange. he told her and ej everything -- even shit he didn't tell genie anymore. "me and mani aren't back together. she's thinking about giving me another chance."

"i'm happy for you, jamie." she said softly. "but..." "but what?" "it didn't work the first time..." "because of me. i fucked up." "even so. love shouldn't be hard. you and imani? your love is hard." "but worth it. i love her." "i know you do. and you should. she's a wonderful girl. but what about you?" "what about me?" "you're an incredible man. exceptional. singular in every way. i think you deserve to be happy. you shouldn't have to make yourself small to make it work." "that's not what's happening with imani." "no?" sloane questioned. "what is she doing to make sure you guys have another chance? is she reassuring you? is she talking to you? it takes two to be in love."

jameson was quiet for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. no, imani didn't seem to be enthusiastic about their chances of trying again but could he blame her? "you don't understand, lo. i...i cheated. when we broke up? i cheated. it's my fault."

he watched as her eyes go wide with the information and she lapsed into silence. it didn't last long though. she stepped closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist as they stood together. "that doesn't change the fact that you're a good man. so you made a mistake. anybody who knows you knows that you're good."

her constant belief in and support of him was invaluable. jameson wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged him briefly. "thank you for saying that. but anything she says or does to me, i deserve it. and i'm going to take it -- if it means we can start over."

sloane gave him a brief nod of her head and leaned her body against his. "i understand. i still don't think she's right for you. you need someone to believe in you. i think too much has happened between you and imani. i don't know if she's that woman for you anymore."

he hoped like hell sloane was wrong. imani was the only woman he'd genuinely loved. his selfishness had robbed him of love and he was feeling the consequences heavily. she walked ahead, pulling him with her and jameson went -- his mind on imani and if he was fooling himself by thinking they were going to get it right the second time around.

"c'mon. let me buy you lunch. i made reservations at gramercy tavern." sloane told him sweetly as she wrapped both arms around him, stilling his movement. "i didn't mean to upset you. i just want what's best for you."

jameson peered down at her to say no, to make his excuses. he was exhausted and wanted to sleep but one look at her pouting face -- and he couldn't do anything but laugh. "i know you do. let's go eat now. i'm tired." he said softly, pressing a kiss to her head and wrapping his arm around her shoulder before leading her down the grand staircase.

with a kiss to her head and a brief hug, jameson had left her outside the st. regis hotel. as she made her way upstairs, her phone pinged yet again in her purse and she ignored the sound until she crossed the threshold of her suite. once she was comfortable, she unlocked her phone and stretched across the couch.

[ e. ricardo ] : he's not here yet [ e. ricardo ] : if this is bullshit, i'm going to write my next column about you and you won't like the details i give [ e. ricardo ] : he's in place. my photographer is there. [ e. ricardo ] : snapped you two. how cute. [ e. ricardo ] : where are you going with him? [ e. ricardo ] : hello?? my photographer lost you two on 53rd st

sloane sighed, deleting all the texts from her phone. calling the paps wasn't out of the unusual for her but this one was a pushy bastard. she did it when she worked with particularly high profile clients and when she just wanted her name circling with people who could boost her career. but she had never called them about jamie. ernest had practically salivated at the idea of getting exclusive pictures of jameson doing anything. even if it was just a lunch date with a friend.

she pushed call on the contact, listening to it ring. when he answered, sloane didn't bother acting friendly. "are the pics good?"

ernest quickly reassured her they were. he even offered to send them to her but she quickly denied. the less proof they had of a connection to one another, the better. she told him she wanted them up online before the next morning and he obliged before they ended the call. the pictures weren't scandalous but she knew it'd shake imani. cheating boyfriend in another city with pretty friend? wrapping his arms around her? she knew it'd do something to the other woman.

was it a move that could backfire on her? yes. imani could decide to fight for jameson but sloane was okay with that. she had decided to fight for him -- why not have a worthy opponent? she knew jameson would be asleep soon. he probably wouldn't see them when they were posted. even if he had, she could always pretend to be just as dismayed as him. she'd even take to social media to help clear up any rumors.

the pretty, kind hearted friend of james lucas. the classy girl that people would make people say "well why isn't he with her?". that was going to be her new image. and she knew it'd change if those pictures looked as cozy as it felt being with him. suddenly, people would wonder about them. he would wonder about them. all she needed was for that switch to flip in his mind.

sloane rose from the couch and went to run herself a bath. she ignored the buzzing of her phone for the next few hours -- realizing the article had clearly come out. now she had to be careful if she was going to make this happen. jameson would never forgive her if he knew she was going to do her best to stop a reunion with imani.

the familiar ringtone echoed throughout the room and jameson smiled in his sleep. it was the song he'd written for imani. he played it as the ringtone anytime she called. it'd been so long since he heard it playing from his phone. imani didn't call him anymore. he called her. he texted her.

still -- he could hear it and it stirred him from sleep. jameson stretched across the bed, sitting up in the darkened bedroom. he fumbled across the bed, reaching for his phone. by the time he snatched it up, the ringing had stopped. he could see the time on his screensaver and blinked the sleep from his eyes. it was six in the morning...which meant it was around noon for her in italy. they had exchanged texts since she'd been gone. it had only been three days but he had missed her deeply.

seeing he had two missed calls from imani made him frown. he wanted to hear her voice. he unlocked his phone to call her back but then the text came through. he opened it -- thinking it was more of cute and humorous conversation they'd been having for the past few days.

[ mani ]: i don’t know what type of bitch you take me for, but a stupid one, you know i’m not that. i told you no more bullshit so why i’m seeing pictures of you cuddled up with sloane at the fuckin moma? like i said i’m not a dumb bitch. you want to cuddle up with her, then be with her. i’m done.

jameson read the text twice, confusion making his brows furrow. "what the fuck?" he muttered to himself. it felt like somebody had put his ass in the blender and he was all mixed up. he immediately tried to call imani. no ringing. straight to voicemail. he'd been blocked by her enough to know the hallmarks of it. "fuck!" he cursed angrily, pulling the phone from his ear to send her a text that he knew she wouldn't see.

baby, i don't know what fuck you're talking about. ain't no bullshit with me and her. you know that. call me back.

he waited a few minutes but with no response, jameson climbed out of bed as he clicked his way through social media. it wasn't hard to find the 'just in' and tmz articles complete with computers. he and sloane talking. he and sloane laughing. he and sloane hugging. the kiss to her head. jameson groaned. actions he thought of as friendly definitely looked like something more. even he could admit that. reading the comments would do him no good but he saw that each had thousands.

even his instagram had an influx of activity. people commenting on pictures from months ago. even sloane had issued a statement of sorts where she asked people not to speculate about her personal life. this was bad. and he knew there was only one move he could make now.

he scrolled through his contact list and looked for genie's number. it rang -- a sign that she hadn't blocked him -- but she didn't answer. jameson left a terse message, telling her to call him back before he hung up and called ej.

sloane had played her part well. she'd been shocked and aghast. properly outraged on behalf of her famous friend. she scrolled through the comments with relish. for every one that called jameson cheating scum, there were two that said they looked cute together. for every comment that said imani deserved better, there were two asking what sloane's instagram was.

she had posted to her story, demanding an apology for the invasion of privacy and ensured that she named jameson as her 'close friend' -- nothing more, nothing less. that was enough to set speculation off once more. not the conversation wasn't just about "jamani" -- it was about imani, jameson, and sloane.

just as she was about to scroll more comments, a call came through on her phone. genie's name flashed across her screen and she froze before answering it. the two girls hadn't spoken in a year. sloane's opposition to imani had put her on the wrong side of genie. for some reason, genie had chosen imani over her and sloane never forgot it.

still, she answered the phone with a kind, curious tone -- interested in what her former friend could possibly have to say.

"are you sleeping with jameson?" genie asked abruptly and sloane laughed. no hello. no how are you? no fake bullshit. she got right to the shit and sloane knew she had to handle the other woman carefully.

"are you out of your mind?" "that's not an answer." "genie, you know jamie and i aren't like that." "no. but i know you want to be."

sloane frowned, annoyed at the fact that genie would so bluntly state the facts. she couldn't have genie running around telling anybody that. especially jameson. not before she could fully get imani out of the picture.

"that was a stupid crush, genie. and it's cruel of you to bring it up. jamie and i have a real friendship and you know that. or you would if you hadn't cut me off for imani." sloane disputed, pleased when genie didn't say anything for a minute.

"he loves imani, sloane." "but does she truly still love him?" "that's for them to figure out." "i don't think it's hard to decide if you love someone or not." "that is for them to figure out, sloane. you cannot get involved." "i'm not involved. he's my friend and i'm going to protect my friend. just like you're doing now." "it's not protecting him if people think you guys are fucking. if you care about jamie, help him."" that's exactly what i'm doing."

sloane hung up the phone, taking a deep breath as she tried to regain her composure. she wasn't wrong. jameson and imani were too ill matched to make it work. she was just helping him face that fact. the sooner he did, the better it would be for him.

"yerrrrrrr" ej answered the phone unseriously, already knowing why jameson was calling. he had seen the articles and the posts. he'd seen the comments and wondered -- was his best friend holding out on him? jameson and genie and sloane had a shared childhood that ej didn't quite get. but he didn't try very hard to understand. he didn't really care.

"mani blocked me. i need you to call her for me."

ej snorted, shaking his head. "nah." he heard his best friend sigh loudly, frustration covering every inch of the sound. "i don't want to get cursed out by proxy. it did look like something was up with you and sloane."

"it's not! at least call her then click me in on the call."

he could hear in jameson's tone that he meant it. there was nothing happening with sloane. that was good. sloane was a pretty girl but ej could tell that if jameson broke her heart, she'd never recover. she'd never be able to give him what he got from being with imani. what that was...only jameson knew. still...ej denied him. "that'll be a hell nah."

"ellington, i swear to god..." "nigga done forgot his manners and everything, that's crazy." "mani is about to walk away from me for good. and you not gone help me?" "calm your ass down. you said nothing happened so that's one point in your favor. just...gimme a minute. i'll call you back."" i'm serious, man. i gotta -- " "i know, bruh. just...trust me. give me ten minutes."

reluctantly, jameson agreed. it took ej five minutes to calm him down. he had to promise to call back within ten minutes. ej went down his contact list and landed on the only one without a name. she simply had glasses, needle and thread, and a purple heart emoji where her name should be. it was foolish but it summed up their relationship pretty well.

she answered within three rings and ej smiled as he stretched across his bed. "ms adesanya. how you doing?" ej heard her sigh and knew she was already annoyed with him. good.

"let me guess. jameson told you to call?" "how'd you guess?" "she doesn't want to talk to him." "i figured. i had to give it a shot tho. that's my boy." "tell your boy to stop cuddling with bitches in public." "oh, she's a bitch? i thought you and sloane were cool." "we were. then we weren't." "shame. i remember when yall were the three musketeers. you, her, and jameson." "was there anything else you needed, ellington?" "yes, imogen. i'd like you to convince imani to let jameson explain."" i'll take it under consideration. anything else?" "yeah. are you in la? let's grab a drink. we gotta figure out how to help our dumb ass friends." "i'm out of the country. we'll be back next week." "we? you in spain with imani?" "not spain. italy. we're in rome." "oooh. yeah yeah. i remember now. rome. hotel...the fancy place with the birds and the steps." "what? there are no stairs outside here." "yes, there are. they're on the east side of the hotel." "ellington, there are no stairs here." "baby, i googled the hotel. it's hotel danieli, ain't it?" "he told you wrong. we're at the st. regis rome." "ohhhhhh. oh shit. that was somebody else i was thinking of. well -- we should get a drink when you're back. our best friends stress us out. let's relax together." "um...okay. sure."

he could hear the confusion in her voice and ellington grinned, knowing that he had agitated her into telling him what hotel they were at. he'd always thought genie adesanya was gorgeous. everything was beautiful about her. her grace, her kindness. even the way she got her damn nails down. nothing but pure elegance. she stood on the fringes of his friendship with jameson. they never truly got to know one another. so he settled for being the annoying friend of a friend.

over the years, he'd periodically pop in, send her an annoying text, and then pop right back out. she probably didn't even know he liked her and ej wanted to keep it that way. friend groups mixing were messy -- clearly evidenced by the newest round of bullshit with imani and jameson. he was content to tease and provoke genie until she furrowed her pretty eyebrows. that would have to be enough.

once he got her off the phone, ej called jameson back -- two minutes before the ten minute deadline was up. he knew his friend was close to a crashout and figured the only way to stop it was for him to get active. a phone call wasn't going to get it.

"get your ass on a plane, fix it, and then get back before the weekend is over. we got shit to do."

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