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eddiegettingshot · 1 month ago

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i'd love it if you reposted it! thank you so much 💚

all 2.8k (+ nsfw) beneath the cut just for you <3 <3 <3 we'll see if i ever come back to it

Despite being caught in a perpetual rush of his own making, Eddie is very rarely late. He’s always a little bit convinced that he might be, though, which is why it’s so endearing that every day, without fail, he finds the time to text: Morning, Buck.

Sometimes, Buck likes to wonder where Eddie had paused in his routine to make that kind of room for him.

It could never be right after waking up, of course, but maybe he’d tapped it out one-handed as he brushed his teeth. Just before calling for Christopher to get out of bed, since Chris frequently sleeps through all three of his alarms. While waiting for his bagel to pop out of the toaster, or maybe after burning something on the stove, because it’s possible that he’d look at the remains of his breakfast in his pan and think, It’s easier when Buck’s around to make my eggs.

Buck imagines this most often, even if it’s the least likely scenario.

He could have also decided to text right after he finished making his bed; in the middle of trying to find his misplaced wallet, which is usually forgotten in a pocket somewhere, although in that case he’d complain and ask Buck if he had any fucking idea where it could be; or once he was finally, firmly behind the wheel of his truck, about to put on the shitty country playlist he listens to on the road. The options are endless.

Buck’s phone vibrates, like clockwork. He closes his eyes.

Apropos of nothing—nothing at all—he decides it’s possible that Eddie has just finished working out, which means he’s about to get into the shower, because he’s hot and sweat-damp all over. He’s probably peeled his shirt off already, if he’d deigned to wear one at all, after which he’d raked his hair out of his eyes and, still panting, remembered Buck.

Yeah, that’s probably it. That’s what’s most likely. Eddie’s been working out a lot. Probably what inspired that dream, too—the first one Buck’s had in months. Just him, processing all the ways Eddie’s changed lately.

He sighs. He has to wipe himself clean before he can respond.

***

Most of Buck’s dreams are not about Eddie. The dreams that are about Eddie tend to hurt, leaving him off-kilter until the real thing, flesh and blood and smiling mouth, recenters him.

He wonders if Eddie’s the same way. It would explain the ritual text, if the habit were a Hope you’re not actually dead! thing rather than the My best friend is always on my mind! thing Buck accidentally turned it into, as he does. He’d be okay if it were the former; he understands the impulse all too well, since he’d nursed a similar compulsion with Bobby for the same reason in the surreal months following his coma.

But, admittedly, it’d be better if Eddie loved him enough to think of him, always.

Anyway, because dream-Eddie is generally riddled with bullets or riddled with bullets and drowning or otherwise suffering some amalgamation of all the terrible things Buck’s ever seen, it’s far less disturbing when Buck’s subconscious paints a picture of them sleeping together.

At least the version of Eddie who fucks him doesn’t exist, and never has.

***

He knows it’s Eddie marrow-deep, the way anyone knows anything in a dream.

Buck opens his eyes to light everywhere, so radiant the entire bedroom shimmers, a pale beam of it crossing Eddie’s long golden fingers where they’re clasped around Buck’s forearms to keep him in place. Eddie’s draped along his back, unapologetic about letting Buck, prone and practically immobilized, bear his full weight. Buck can’t see him, and he doesn’t say a word, just rubs his mouth into the spot beneath Buck’s ear and digs his thumbs into the insides of Buck’s wrists, but Buck is certain Eddie’s smiling. His mustache, which he’d long-since shaved in real life, is bristly, but nice. Really nice. Softer than Buck had thought it would be.

Then there’s the matter of Eddie’s cock, which he rocks slowly into the cleft of Buck’s ass. Buck can’t see that either, but it feels nice, too, stiff and hot and already soaked at the head. Buck tries to arch into him, give him something else, make it better; Eddie just laughs and keeps working him into the mattress, a lazy pantomime of a real fuck.

Dissatisfied, Buck struggles beneath him. Eddie bites him at the nape like an animal, hard enough to sting, and flattens his chest between Buck’s shoulder blades to settle him. He flexes his grip on Buck’s arms. Trapped like this, Buck can feel all of him: his ribs expand, and his belly presses into Buck’s spine as he sighs.

The restlessness—whatever it is, that under-the-skin itch to stay in motion—drains away, defeated by Eddie’s wordless command. Buck sighs, too, turning his cheek into the pillow.

The thing is, he knows it’s Eddie because it couldn’t be anyone else.

“Good. That’s good,” Eddie says, low, dragging kisses across Buck’s jaw and cheek.

Buck’s not even doing anything. Eddie won’t let him, so he doesn’t try—even as mouthwatering want seizes his gut and pours blistering heat through his pelvis. He can’t stop shifting his erection against the sheets. The praise still doesn’t feel entirely unearned.

“It’d be better,” Buck says, “if you would actually put it in.”

“We ain’t got time for that,” Eddie says. Then (and he’s definitely smiling—the shape of it curls around his words): “Morning, Buck.”

It’s the familiar, beloved rasp of Eddie’s voice, that mundanity paired with getting almost-fucked, that makes Buck groan with impatience and spread his thighs. A blunted ache throbs behind Buck’s sternum. It’s dirty to let himself be overpowered this way, he thinks, except for that it feels closer to being held than pinned. With Eddie—his warm skin, his steady breath—it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.

“Come on, Eddie,” he says. “Quit humping me.”

“That’s usually my line.”

“Woof,” Buck huffs, and they both laugh—Eddie’s, shaky and breathless, his cock nudging right where Buck needs him; Buck’s, a little awed over this quotidian exchange alone.

Buck noses to the side and opens his mouth against the back of Eddie’s hand, licking at the thin salty skin. He imagines there’s a vein there. He imagines he can feel the blood inside of it pulsing on his tongue—onto his tongue—and follows it to Eddie’s knuckles. Scraping his teeth over them, he tries again: “We could make time.”

“You might be off today, but I’m gonna be late for my shift,” Eddie says. He’s wrong. He’s never late. Buck hitches his ass up, insistently seeking contact.

Eddie groans, long-suffering, dropping his over-warm face into Buck’s shoulder.

“You won’t. And if you are, I—I’ll tell Cap it was my fault,” Buck coaxes.

He doesn’t have to, since Eddie’s already letting go of him, spitting into his palm, drawing away just enough to reach down, wet his dick, and guide it firmly into place. But it’s nice to beg so freely, even nicer to chase down that singular moment where Eddie gives in. To keep pushing, just because he can—because Eddie allows it, every time.

“Please don’t,” Eddie snorts. He rubs up against Buck’s hole, purposeful rather than teasing now, and Buck shivers, clenching under the contact. “I’m pretty sure that breaks the station law against oversharing, and I don’t have enough cash left for the Buck’s Big Mouth jar.”

Buck’s shameless snickering dissolves into a wavering moan as Eddie eases forward, opening him on just the tip first. Even that feels like a lot, feels fucking good, the first couple inches igniting nerves that make the backs of his thighs tingle.

“Fuck,” he says. Whimpers, really, kind of airy and tremulous.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“This what you wanted?” Eddie’s pressed all the way into him, flush with Buck’s ass. He grabs Buck around the hip to maneuver the angle, tilting him perfectly into place as if by instinct. The first firm thrust wrenches all the air from Buck’s lungs.

“Eddie,” is all he manages, naturally.

The slide is effortless, too easy with spit alone, but Eddie’s cock fills him up so well that all Buck can think is that if this is real, if this is happening, then maybe it was just meant to be right here, taking up all this space inside him, and that Eddie was meant to be here, too, the whole of his body an anchor. His hips begin to snap, hard and focused enough to get Buck panting.

“W—Wait,” Buck gasps. “Go slow.”

Eddie obliges, of course. He kisses the nape of Buck’s neck, the sore spot he’d used to bully Buck into submission before. It tickles.

“Slower,” he begs—for the first time in his life, probably. It’s a sudden, inconvenient desire, considering they really don’t have much time.

Incredulous but uneven, Eddie asks, “Seriously?”

Buck grins. “Yeah,” he says.

Eddie’s got a grounding hand clamped tight and high on Buck’s waist, fingertips hooking beneath his ribs. Buck reaches around, takes him by the wrist, and guides that hand up to his throat, choking off his own desperate moaning mostly because he knows Eddie finds it unbearably hot.

“Buck,” Eddie maybe mumbles, although it’s hard to decipher through the hazy head rush. He gives Buck a loving squeeze, but that’s not enough; after squeezing his wrist in return, Buck tugs him up until he can wrap his lips around Eddie’s forefingers and suck.

He’d asked for slow, so Eddie’s barely even fucking him anymore. His hips remain crushed to Buck’s ass; he’s rocking forward in small, tight motions like there’s any way to get deeper. There isn’t, there can’t be. Stretched raw, speared apart, Buck already feels disassembled.

Eddie shifts, and it’s—“There, right there,” Buck groans, garbled with his mouth full, but Eddie understands.

He must take it as, like, permission, or something—God, that’s a nice idea—because he presses down on the ridge of Buck’s bottom teeth and pushes his nose against Buck’s ear and gives it to him. No more of that indolent grinding; he slams in, smooth and ceaseless, unforgiving on Buck’s prostate.

“I love you,” Eddie says, hoarse with sudden emotion. “You know that?”

Fuck, yes—with Eddie’s broad, calloused palm holding his jaw fast, and Eddie’s fingers down his throat, and Eddie’s sweaty cheek brushing his, and Eddie’s big cock ripping him wide, he does. He feels it everywhere. He cries out, muffled, guttural, and deliriously pleased as the heat builds.

“Answer me,” Eddie murmurs. He slips his fingers out of Buck’s mouth. A strand of drool keeps them connected to Buck’s lower lip. One particularly rude thrust punches a strangled noise out of him.

“Fuck, Eddie, I—I know.”

“What do you know?”

“You love me,” Buck says. “I know you love me.”

“That’s right,” Eddie says, pressing a sloppy, proprietary kiss under Buck’s ear. “I love you, Buck.”

“I want—”

“You ready to come?”

“Yeah,” Buck moans, and then, “No, I—”

Somehow, with Eddie surrounding him, it hadn’t occurred to Buck how badly he needed to breathe his air and touch him, too—to kiss his mouth, taste the sweat on his mustache. To thumb at his furrowed brow. To watch him come and bask in the blazing heat of his satisfaction.

Eddie would like it—filling Buck up, flooding him inside. He does like it. Doesn’t he? Likes laying his claim, more than anything.

That’s what it really is, after all, when he gives Buck his cock, and his come, and his bite, and his hand around Buck’s throat, and every spare, hard-won minute he’s got. I love you really means that Buck’s his to keep, and Eddie even says that in his sleep sometimes, mumbled into Buck’s hair and occasionally broken by his embarrassing snoring.

He must like that Buck belongs to him. He has to. More than anything, Buck needs to look Eddie in the eye when he says everything he wants to say, so he can be absolutely certain of this. He was certain, a moment ago, but Eddie’s grasp on him is weakening, or maybe Buck’s slipping out of his hold.

Buck tries to tell him, “I want to see you.”

Ideally, Eddie will grin when Buck turns in the cage of his arms and begs: Don’t go anywhere. I love you, too. Let’s just do this forever. I can take it. He’ll make that sound he makes, that quietly amused “Hm,” that has a million meanings, all of which Buck has memorized. He’ll dutifully argue that they’d probably miss their real life eventually—plus they’ve got a mortgage to pay and Buck would get bored without the thrill of saving lives. Eddie’s good at choosing the right moment to be a little bit terrible, so he’ll grab Buck by the thighs to stifle any retort, haul him into position to pound him just right, and say something irresistibly dirty, like, Give it to me, sweetheart, show me how you come.

And Buck would. He’s already close; it’s knifing through his belly, the only palpable feeling left—

Forget an orgasm; he doesn’t even get to roll over before the whole scene washes away, taking Eddie with it.

Panting, Buck blinks the afterimage of Eddie’s hands out of his head, but he can’t banish the thought that he wouldn’t let Eddie try to convince him of anything. He’d pull him down, kiss him hard, lick his canine teeth, and plead again, and again, and again, until Eddie agreed to use his body as a dwelling; to live inside him, and nowhere else.

***

It’s not weird that he jerked off.

The dream was near-cinematic and left him with a desperate hard-on; he obviously couldn’t walk into work in that state. And, actually, in a way it’s less weird that he’d jerked off thinking of Eddie over anybody else. He’d bet real money that anyone who’s spent more than thirty seconds in close proximity with Eddie has done the same. Buck is a self-respecting bisexual man and Eddie is devastating on his worst days; of course the image of him ruddy-cheeked and slick with sweat was going to get Buck across the finish line in—what, thirty pathetic seconds?

In fact, it turns out that envisioning Eddie was the most efficient choice, given that he walks into the station just shy of being late.

He changes quickly, then heads out to the apparatus bay, where Bobby is currently holding court. Eddie’s eyes barely flicker as he slides over on the stairs to make room for Buck to settle in beside him.

“Morning, Buck,” he says.

Buck’s stomach tenses.

“H—Hey,” he responds, in the tone and cadence of someone who did not recently shoot off so hard he might have actually shed a tear, and all to the echo of dream-Eddie—only dream-Eddie—saying that exact thing. The corner of Eddie’s lips twitch as he restrains his smile; it’d have been imperceptible were Buck not already looking at it—his mouth, that is.

He should probably stop doing that. Bobby gives him a good reason to turn away.

Over the course of their morning briefing, Eddie begins to lean into Buck. He shuffles his feet until his legs are angled open wide and he and Buck are pressed together from their knees all the way down to the sides of their boots. Buck glances over occasionally, and Eddie notices each time; he doesn’t say anything, though, and doesn’t seem to think anything of it, his expression mostly unchanging. In every halfway moment between meeting Eddie’s eye and returning his attention to where it belongs, Buck is compelled to look down into the space between Eddie’s thighs, where his interlaced hands hang loosely. Those hands were all he’d gotten to see of Eddie, in the dream—all he’d gotten to touch and taste.

He wonders at Eddie’s fingers, how the shape of them would fit his mouth. Eddie’s knuckles digging into his hard palate. The unyielding edge of bone between his teeth. Would they make him gag? Would he care if they did? Probably not. There’s a small, still-fresh cut disappearing into the web between Eddie’s middle and ring fingers. The moment Buck imagines probing his tongue against it, he swallows hard against the feeling that there’s an immovable smoldering coal lodged in his esophagus, radiating unpleasant heat through his chest.

Buck rubs his palm absently from his collarbone to his heart and back up again to scratch at his neck. He doesn’t realize he’s begun to chew his thumbnail ragged until Eddie nudges an elbow into his side to get him to quit.

For some reason, he mumbles, “Sorry.” Eddie tilts his head and half-smiles, silently accepting this nonspecific and entirely unnecessary apology. Buck can bite his nails if he wants, but he shoves his hands into his pockets to stave off the urge.

#asks #nobody be mean every word of this tested me #egs wip

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with-my-calamitous-love · 7 months ago

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MY BELOVED GHOST AND ME

toya x reader

you and your complicated lover have an honest talk about the future.

angst, so so much angst, guys i was so sad when i wrote this, euphoria reference if you squint

inspired by how did it end?

to mourn someone who is still with you.

mourning someone who is not just with you. who is next to you, cradling you in the arms. he is silent, a wall of solitude. he is a magnitude of grief joined together by burnt skin and piercings. he is waves of hurt and love with nowhere to go kissing your shoulder. he is a litany of fear and resentment tightening his arms around your waist, holding you against his warm body as you stare at the window of your shitty apartment.

his name is toya todoroki. he was hurt, scarred, vengeful, and already gone. his skin that screamed for salvation proved that. and you loved him.

your eyes stare hesitantly at the window. he holds you silently against his ribs, blue eyes watching you with an unreadable stare. he was taring your world apart from the roots down, and he knew it. he felt it your bones scream against him.

"i wanna burn this city to the ground." you sigh.

and you'd honestly do it. not for you, not for anyone else but him. you'd tear the soil up from the ground, wrath building up explosions from the oceans as the waters flood the ground, drowning the suffering of humanity. you'd set everything in your sight ablaze, watching as everything burns into embers, and then nothing. and in the end you'd salt the earth behind you. nothing would dare sprout on the earth toya todoroki once loved you on.

"i know." he says.

you bring his burnt palm to your face, pressing your lips to the mourning skin. he looks at you, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. "i"m not scared of you, toya." you reassure him. hands that were known for destruction, known for the eruptions of blue flames that ravaged everything in his will. you kissed them. you'd kiss them a million times over. it was funny, how hands built for death held you so good.

he hums, his grip tightening around you. he knows you should be, that you should leave. if not out of fear, than out of hate. hate for who he his, hate for the pain that he has caused and will cause. because toya knew from the moment his marred body stared back at him in the mirror, was that he was going to go down in flames. he was going to destroy his father and everything he had done. he was going to die.

and you knew that. better than anyone.

so there you were. mourning someone who lay next to you, heart still beating, lungs still breathing.

"i'd destroy the whole world for you." you repeat.

toya looks at you, blue eyes staring intently at the way you lay in his embrace. "you're not supposed to, doll. thats my job, you're the good one." he mutters into your skin.

"i'm not as good as you think." you insist, still refusing to face your lover.

a sigh escapes his marred lips. "i know you're not perfect. but..." his fingers trace up and down the curves of your waist. "you're good for me. better."

you scoff.

"whats... whats gonna happen to us?"

you don't know what you feared more. silence, or the answer.

he paused for a moment, his hands wandering down to your thigh. his gave moved away from you as a pensive look came over his face, lips pursing as he thought of an answer. after a long moment of silence, his eyes returned to you, where his gaze belonged.

"do you really wanna know?"

"yeah, i do."

toya held your gaze for a moment, making sure his face stayed unreadable. his hand remained on your thigh, caressing your soft skin.

"this isn't gonna end well, doll. you and me.." he whispers breathlessly.

"i know." you nod solemnly.

"we're not gonna survive this. i'm not. the world... ain't gonna let us."

his actions betrayed his words, pulling you even closer to him. the look on his eyes screamed otherwise. they wanted something else, but his soul knew that his burnt hands were already out of reach.

"i figured." your voice was laced with bitterness. he wanted to protest, but what was there to argue against? he made up his mind.

"what am i to you?" you ask, eyes still gazing the emptiness of the outside world. your world laid right next to you, telling you that he wasn't going to stay.

"you're... everything." he utters, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you wince. finally turning around. you needed him to see the hurt in your eyes. and you needed to find the hurt in his.

"what... what can i do to convince you? to stay?" your voice cracked when your words reached his ears. toya paused, a part of him wanting to be his usual asshole self- teasing you into making love with your body pressed against him, the physical pleasure making him forget about his troubles for a moment. but the look in your eyes told im to stop.

he lets out the slightest sigh before speaking.

"you can't." his voice was barely above a whisper.

your eyes dropped, staring out the window again. "i figured."

he felt a twinge of guilt erupt in his chest, piercing new burns through his heart. he hated seeing you this way, hated knowing he was the one who caused it.

"i'm not gonna apologize." he muttered quietly, his grip on your chin soft yet firm as he held your face. "i'm not gonna change my mind, either..."

"i didn't expect you to." you answer, tearing his hand off of your face.

toya felt his fingers reflexively tighten before reluctantly letting you remove his hand. a flicker of frustration bloomed across his burning blue eyes. he hated how accepting you were, how understanding you were. both of you felt the tension, both souls aware of the inevitable. his jaw clenched as he thought of his mission, knowing that it would finally cause his father pain, but you bring you down with it. it killed him more than the fire, than the smoke.

"i'm not apart of your plan." you sigh. "you don't have to be here."

toya let out the slightest scoff at your words. his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you. his eyes hardened for a moment before he leaned in closer, whispering: "you think i'd choose to be anywhere else when i could be with you?"

"why do you stay here if you're just gonna die?"

"do i need a reason to stay with you, doll?"

"do you have one?"

both you and toya paused at your last question. his jaw clenched as you pressed his reasoning. he knew he couldn't tell you the truth. the truth that you were the one thing keeping him alive, the one thing that kept made staying seem like a reality. no, he couldn't tell you that. he couldn't give you hope.

"maybe, i just like being with you." he lies with a truth.

you sigh again, defeated as you lay your head on his chest like a soldier collapsing on the battle field. toya let out a low, content breath as his body welcomed you wholeheartedly in his embrace.

"so... i'm just gonna sit here.. and watch you kill yourself over some shitty revenge plan... i'm just gonna sit here and lose you..?"

toya pretends to not notice the way your voice cracks. he feels a wince of guilt at your quiet words, hating the way you suffered because of him. hated the way he could do absolutely nothing about it.

he took a deep breath before he spoke. "i didn't say you had to stay, doll... you're free to leave anytime you want." his words betrayed his feelings. he didn't want you to leave, selfishly. he rubs circles into your back, doing anything to comfort you.

"if i wanted to i would've left by now, idiot." you sigh, voice cracking once more.

he felt a familiar flicker of sadness run through his veins. this wasn't fair to you. not at all. he knew he was hurting you and he hated himself for it, more than anything else did. his grip on you tightened, calloused fingers running over your skin.

"you shouldn't stay." he muttered. "you should hate me. you should walk away and have nothing to do with me." toya tells you the truth and only the truth.

"i know." you whisper, defeated. "i really hate you right now, toya..." you cry, tightening your grip on his arm.

he feels his chest tighten as you cry. he knew he deserved your hatred, but he wished he didn't. his arm wrapped around you tighter, as if you'd disappear if he dare let you go. you had to be the one to let him go.

"i know you do, doll." he utters. "i think i hate myself too."

"good." you seethe, still holding onto him like a safety net.

he heard the anger in your voice, anger he knew all too well. he could feel the way your body trembled, the hurt and frustration locked inside of you evident. he absolutely hated himself for this. his thumb continued to trace patterns onto your back, thinking that maybe it'd take your pain away. "go ahead. scream at me, cry at me, hate me. you can do anything you want. i can take it."

but you don't scream or even yell. you just lay there, almost as lifeless as he was about to be soon. you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, nothing could possibly console you right now.

"i fucking hate you right now, toya todoroki." you cried into him.

"i know doll, i know." he feels the hurt press against his lungs, and he takes it. he takes all of the darkness that comes from you to him and eats it, swallowing it whole. he knows he deserves it.

you cry and cry, your shaking body cradled into toya's embrace. he held onto you desperately, seeing the pieces of you shattered in his arms tear him apart from the inside out. he could tell by the way your broken hands hold him that you don't want him to go.

"i want you to want me to stay." you choke, messy sobs piercing your words. you hated how he let you go, how he told you you should walk away from him. you wanted the complete opposite- you wished he'd make a god damn fool out of himself, loving you and begging you to stay. but toya knew not to waste his breath.

"its not a matter of wanting you to stay." he utters. "god, i want you to stay... more than anything." he presses his face into the skin of your shoulder, trying to feel you, trying to feel if a part of you still loved him beneath all the hate.

but its not enough for you. "no i want you to tell me to stay! dont tell me i should hate you, or-or that i should leave- i want you to fucking want me to stay! fucking love me! love me like i love you!" you rip a scream from your chest, sitting up from his embrace and staring him straight into his eyes. he needs to know how much he's hurting you.

he winced, feeling his chest clench at your words. "i do love you." his words escape from his lips.

"bullshit." you declare.

you can see on his eyes that he's taken aback by your words. if theres one thing he knew for sure, it was that he loved you. "why won't you believe me?!"

"because you're letting me just watch you fucking die!" you scream.

he stands up, the hurt from your face infecting his own.

"you think i want to die!?" he snarls, an unwanted hint of vulnerability escaping with his words. "i'm not letting you watch anything. i didn't ask you to sit around and wait for me."

he immediately regrets his words.

a look of disgust contorts your face. you stand up, facing away from him fully. your completely speechless. what could you say?

toya felt his heart strings wither as he tried to rectify the situation. "thats not what i meant." he sighs, running a finger through his hair.

you cry on your own, away from toya's prying eyes. he feels his heart clench again, knowing he's the villain here. he places a hand on your shoulder.

"doll." he whispers. "turn around"

you sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

"i can't save you. i can't convince you to stay. yet i can't... leave. i can't get on my feet and leave you. i want to, but... i just can't." you admit your defeat, not bothering to fight back as toya pulls you against him, back into bed.

"i told you you were free to leave, free to walk away and never look back. not like i don't deserve it." he reminds you, pressing a somber kiss to your head.

"i want you to hold me back." you whisper, now facing him with tears pricking your eyes. "i want you to ask me to stay. but.. but you don't."

toya said nothing. he knew you were right, that he wasn't going to ask you to stay. not when he knew it was more than he deserved.

"i hate you." you mutter. toya accepted it, nodding as he gave you a firm squeeze.

"i know you do, doll." he utters.

"no, you don't." you sob. he could never know how much this hurt for you.

"you're the worst." you half heartedly laugh through your tears, tearing a dry chuckle from toya as he agrees with you. he was the worst. the absolute scum of the earth.

"you're an asshole." you trail off. "you're a fucking bastard. and i still love you." you whisper that last part.

"you shouldn't."

"you think i want to?"

he chuckles at that. you were always right.

"after you die, i might end up burning the entire world down after all." you sigh. toya's eyes widen at this.

"you won't." he warns, his voice lower. you scoff.

"you're not in it anymore. so now i can do it." your eyes and voice alike are devoid of any happiness as you speak. and it killed him. good.

"don't say that." toya utters, this sentiment corroding him more than anything else.

"why not?"

"because... you're better than that, doll." he states firmly. you scoff again.

"i'm really not." announce.

"thats not you.. you're not a a killer, you're not cruel. you're good. you're kind. you're... you're everything i'm not." he mutters, declarative in his words as he holds you. it broke him to think you'd throw away everything like that. but then again, he was throwing away everything to.

you sob even harder. "i wanna be like you. i wanna be angry, i wanna destroy everything because of it. god, i wanna hate everyone and hate you. i wanna hate and hate and hate for the rest of my life but i can't." you run out of breath on the cant, hopelessness lingering in your throat as you spoke.

"i know..." toya utters, speechless. he felt a wince of physical pain from his body, his burnt vessel screaming at him to finally end it all.

"i love you, doll. don't you dare forget that." he challenges you, embedding it into your skin with a kiss. he made it sound like a goodbye. it was a goodbye.

"i love you too, asshole." you utter, closing your eyes against the warmth of his chest.

for the first time, ever, toya todoroki felt cold.

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joelalorian · 7 months ago

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Fall Into Me - Chapter Ten: I'd give you my life from now 'til forever

dbf!joel x f!reader | WC: 4,103 | E 18+ mdni

Series Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Joel is his own warning. Morning oral (f! and m! receiving). Angst/despair - I'm sorry, but this was planned from the beginning. Please excuse my lack of medical knowledge. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Moodboard by the lovely @mrsmando. Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Nine | Main Masterlist

The soft rays of the morning sun filtered through a break in the blackout curtains, casting a warm glow across the otherwise dark room. You slowly woke up, momentarily disoriented as you took in the surroundings. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of Joel’s particular scent – that heady combination of fresh cut wood, hints of his lingering bodywash, and masculine musk. You turned your head and saw Joel sleeping peacefully beside you, his features relaxed in the early light, making him look almost boyish as curls flopped over his forehead.

For a moment, you simply watched him, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions—gratitude, excitement, and a hint of nervousness. The reality of your new life together settled in, bringing with it a sense of both promises and unknown challenges.

The coffee scent floating up the stairs called to you, but you remained in bed, scooting closer to Joel. You needed to do something special to celebrate your first morning as an official resident of the Miller household. Your hand crept beneath the covers, fingertips tracing down Joel’s bare chest and belly in a barely-there touch. They danced along the waistband of his boxer briefs, gliding over the front of the material to tease his morning wood.

Your touches light and soft, Joel didn’t waken, leaving you feeling emboldened. Slipping his hardened length through the hidden opening in his underwear, you savored the velvety soft skin of his hard cock. You glanced at Joel’s face to find his eyes still closed, breathing steady. Subtly shifting down the bed, you ducked under the covers to swipe the bead of pre-cum from the head with your tongue.

Clocking the hitch in his breath, you paused before wrapping your lips around him, sucking his cock into your mouth. You worked him with long, slow movements, taking him as deep as you could without choking, your tongue licking along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. When your teeth scraped lightly over the bulbous head, Joel groaned.

“Oh, shit.” The blanket lifted with a flick of his wrist, exposing the sight of you sucking his cock to his dark, sleepy gaze. “What are you doing down there, darlin’?”

You audibly popped his cock from your mouth without breaking eye contact, grinning up at him. “Just showing what you what living with me is like,” you teased before ducking your head back down to finish what you started.

“Have I died and gone to heaven?” Joel gasped, hips bucking with the sensations running through him. “You’re gonna have me comin’ in seconds, darlin’. Fuck.”

Hearing how close to the edge he was, you got a little sloppy, taking him impossibly further down your throat, nearly gagging as you slurped at his hardened length. Hollowing your cheeks, you damn near sucked his soul out and Joel came, hard, a flood of cum filling your mouth in near endless spurts. Joel’s hands buried themselves in your hair, holding you down on his cock until he finished.

You sat up, tossing the covers back, and watched Joel’s chest heave as you wiped away an errant drop of cum from your lips with one finger. You smiled lovingly at the satisfied man laying before you, heart overflowing with love and utter want for a life with him. You leaned forward to place your finger at his lips, offering up a little taste of himself. When Joel sucked your finger into his mouth, you quickly replaced it with your lips.

Before you even knew what happened, Joel flipped you onto your back. The broadness of him engulfed you, mouth on yours as one of his hands wandered down to slip beneath the hem of your panties. He had you purring within seconds with confident flicks of a thick finger on your clit. Too soon, Joel slipped down your body to replace his finger with his mouth. You briefly mourned the loss of his mouth against yours, but his tongue worked its magic, teasing you until you were nothing but a puddle of pleasure under his control. An orgasm crashed over you within minutes as he sucked at your clit and lapped up your juices.

Boneless and deliciously satisfied, you watched with hazy eyes as he crawled back up your body and captured your lips in a kiss. Tasting the heady mix of you and him combined, you pulled him closer, slipping your tongue into his mouth to tangle with his. The kiss left you both breathless.

“I love you,” Joel whispered against your lips before peppering your face with tender kisses. “I’m so happy you moved in, darlin’.

“Me, too. I love you, Joel. This just feels so…” you couldn’t find the right word to describe how perfect it all was, being here, with him, starting this next step in your lives together.

“I know, I feel it, too,” Joel confirmed with a warm smile, his baby cow eyes gazing at you in that way that made you melt.

The two of you stayed cuddled in bed for a little longer before deciding it was time to start the day. Joel hopped in the shower as you headed downstairs. You made your way to the kitchen, where the fresh pot of coffee greeted you thanks to the preset timer. A smile crept onto your face as you noticed the note Joel had left on the counter next to the coffeemaker, written in his familiar print.

Good morning, darlin’. Welcome home.

The simplicity of the message touched you deeply, a small gesture that encapsulated the warmth and acceptance you felt in his presence. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the quiet moments of the morning before Joel and Sarah joined you.

As you sat at the kitchen table, your mind wandered to the events that had led you here. The decision to move in together had been both exhilarating and daunting. Blending your lives was a big step, but it felt right. Joel and Sarah had welcomed you with open arms, and you were determined to make this new chapter as seamless as possible.

The sound of footsteps brought you back to the present. You looked up to see Joel, his hair damp from the shower and a broad grin on his face.

“Morning,” he greeted with a laugh, as if you didn’t wake him up in the best way possible a mere half hour ago.

“Morning,” you snickered, tilting your head back for a kiss.

When he sat next to you with his own cup of coffee in hand, you couldn’t contain the happiness bubbling up within you. “I love you, Joel. So much.”

He squeezed your hand gently, pulling your chair closer so he could kiss you again. “I love you more, darlin’. You bein’ here, movin’ in with us, makes our circle complete.”

Just then, the sound of Sarah’s footsteps echoed down the stairs, breaking the tranquility of the morning in a pleasant way. She appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes and looking adorably disheveled.

“Morning,” she mumbled, making her way to the table. She stopped next to her usual chair for a beat before stepping past it to slide into Joel’s lap. You smiled at her, one hand reaching out to smooth over her wild curls.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you greeted, pouring her a glass of orange juice.

As the three of you sat together, sharing the first of many breakfasts in your new home, you felt a profound sense of belonging. And so, the first morning of your new life together began, with the promise of many more to come.

The rest of the school year passed in a blur. Settling into life with the Millers proved easier than you ever imagined. Waking up next to Joel every morning became your favorite part of the day, followed by climbing into bed next to him each night.

Sarah flourished under your care, thriving with the attention and guidance that came with you as a mother figure. She constantly peppered you with questions, always asking for your opinion on a matter even if she already talked to Joel about it. You wondered how you got so lucky to have such a wonderful child in your life, especially when she gave you a homemade card for Mother’s Day, bringing you to tears. I can’t wait to call you Mom, the message read in Sarah’s little print, her handwriting so much like her father’s, just messier. You cried on Joel’s shoulder for an hour after the little girl bounced out of the room, Joel’s eyes shining with tears of his own.

You finally introduced Joel to your best friend. Emily charmed him just as much as she was charmed by him. Her husband hit it right off with Joel, and Tommy, too, and double dates quickly became a thing you all tried to do monthly.

Things weren’t always perfect, though. This was real life, after all. Things went sideways sometimes – small grievances, mostly, often relating to miscommunications or long, stressful days at work as you all adapted to sharing your lives together. You and Joel had a rule though – always talk it out and never go to bed mad. It worked well for the both of you, and without even realizing it, you were setting an example for Sarah on what healthy, loving relationships should look like.

You never knew it could be like this, not really. There was such beauty in this life you shared with them, even in the imperfections, that it was as close to perfect as it ever could be. That’s why it was so devastating when this wonderful new life you all built together nearly came crashing down the last day of school.

“Enjoy your summer everyone! Don’t let everything you learned this year leak out your ears!” you called as the final bell of the day rang for the last time until August. Watching the last of the sixth graders pile out of your classroom, you sunk down in your chair.

A whirlwind. That was the only suitable word to describe your first teaching experience. Equal parts exhausted and exhilarated, you longed for the summer break to last forever yet couldn’t wait to return next school year.

Knowing how excited Sarah would be to get the summer started, you submitted the final grades and packed your things. You’d come back next week to finish out any leftover tasks. The young girl bounced into the room just as you slid the chair under the desk.

“Hey nugget!” you greeted. “All set to start summer vacation?”

“Hi!” Sarah waved excitedly. “Yes! Can we get ice cream on the way home?”

This girl and her sweet tooth. She looked at you with those big eyes, dark and soft just like her dad’s, knowing you couldn’t say no.

“Twist my arm, why dontcha,” you teased. Wrapping an arm around Sarah’s shoulders, you led her from the room and down the hallway. Wishing a few of your colleagues a relaxing summer, you and Sarah made your way through the front doors and down the stairs to your car.

“Ok, ice cream time!”

Sarah beamed at you, chattering away excitedly about which flavor she wanted as you drove out of the parking lot. The ice cream place she wanted to go to was conveniently on the way home and you turned left onto the main street through town. The traffic light jut ahead was green and you drove into the intersection without thought, your eyes scanning for a parking spot just ahead on the right.

You never saw the pickup truck swerve around cars as it approached the intersection, blowing the red light at speed. One second, you’re driving along with Sarah chatting away, debating whether she should get chocolate peanut butter or cookie dough ice cream. The next second, the deafening, grinding sound of metal on metal hit your ears the same time your body jolted roughly, airbag deployed in your face crunching your nose. Screams echoed through the car, though you weren’t sure if they were from you or Sarah. Most likely both.

The truck hit the driver’s side of your car with such force that it rolled over sideways, twice, tossing your bodies around. Disoriented and dizzy, you tried to look at Sarah, to calm her screams as the car tumbled, but everything happened so quick. You barely registered the sharp pricks of broken glass in your skin as the windows and windshield gave away. You lost consciousness as the car slid to a stop on its roof.

Joel tore through the hospital doors, straight to the emergency room, his heart pounding so loud in his chest it echoed in his ears and threatened to burst straight through his ribcage. Tommy raced behind him, on the phone with JB to let him know what happened. Joel never thought he’d get a call like this. He couldn’t even drive, his entire body shaking after he answered the call from the hospital. He almost thought it some awful joke, but the hospital official insisted it was real. Tommy had to reach into the front pocket of Joel’s jeans for the keys, ushering his big brother into the truck before hurrying to the hospital.

Already familiar with this particular ER, after one too many construction-related injuries to his crew or himself over the years, Joel rushed through the halls without bothering to check in. Tommy stopped to get their visitor passes, calling out the rooms Sarah and you were supposed to be in before Joel turned a corner out of sight.

His heart was torn between who to check on first – you or Sarah – but he knew you’d want him to check on Sarah first. Joel could practically hear your sweet voice in his head, telling him not to be ridiculous, to obviously go to Sarah. It almost made him smile. Instead, it crushed his soul, reminding him that he didn’t know when the next time he’d hear your voice might be.

Skidding to a stop in front of Room 5, Joel couldn’t hold back the tears that sprang to his eyes at the sight of his baby girl lying battered in the too-large hospital bed, an IV attached to her little arm. He watched from the doorway, unable to move further for long moments as he took in the contusions on her sweet little face and along her arms, her right wrist in a cast. Heart in his throat, Joel only moved when Tommy appeared behind him.

“JB’s on his way. He’s at a job site in the next town over, so he’ll be a while. Have you checked on her yet?” Joel never heard Tommy speak so softly, so seriously. It made things seem so much worse. Tommy rarely took things seriously, so it must be bad. Still, it propelled him forward.

Finally stepping into Sarah’s room, Joel shook his head. He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, stealing his breath as he drew closer to Sarah’s side. The little girl appeared to be sleeping, and Joel hoped that was the case and not that she was unconscious, but logically, he knew the truth just by the significant bruising on her sweet, little face.

Tommy’s hand gripped Joel’s shoulder when he dropped to his knees next to his daughter, a broken sob fighting its way through the knot in his chest. “Baby girl,” he murmured, stroking one large hand over her head, red-rimmed eyes scanning for more injuries.

“Imma go check on your girl, ok? Just stay here. Sarah needs you,” Tommy said, his voice sounding like he was talking underwater to Joel’s ears. Seeing his brother fall apart, Tommy hesitated. Was it smart to leave him like this? He’d never seen Joel like that, so broken, but someone needed to be there for you while Joel was here for Sarah, at least until your dad got there. With one last worried glance at his brother, Tommy left.

Arriving at the room he was told you’d be in, just a few doors down from Sarah’s, Tommy found it empty, too much blood puddled and smeared on the floor, and discarded medical gloves scattered around it all. His heart plummeted. “No. No, no, no, no!” He started to panic, thinking it meant the worst possible outcome. How would he tell Joel? Or your dad? Or worse still, little Sarah? It would destroy them. Would they ever recover from such a loss?

Turning his back on the room, Tommy slammed one fist against the corridor wall, the other held to his mouth as his teeth sunk into the flesh of his fingers to prevent himself from shouting. Tears sprung to his eyes that had nothing to do with the self-inflicted pain in his hands. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t tell them that you were…

“Can I help you?” A nurse passing by stopped at the sight of him bent over, gasping for breath, fighting back any further emotional outburst. “Are you ok?”

Nodding, Tommy stood to full height and blinked rapidly to clear his vision. God, he couldn’t even remember the last time he cried and now he suddenly felt like he’d never stop.

“Are you looking for someone?” the nurse pressed.

He pointed wordlessly over his shoulder to the room, hand shaking as he caught sight of the blood again when his head turned. The nurse caught on quick, placing a comforting hand on Tommy’s back.

“Oh! No. No, it’s not what you think,” she reassured, saying your full name. “She’s in rough shape, lost a lot of blood as you can see, so they brought her right into surgery. We’re just waiting on the environmental staff to clean up the room. If you take a seat in the waiting room, we’ll give you an update on her condition as soon as we can.”

“Oh, thank fucking God!” Tommy gasped, relief washing over him in a wave. “I thought she died and started to panic over how I would tell my brother or her dad.”

“She’s not out of the woods yet, but she should be ok. The finest surgical team is working on your friend.” Flashing an empathetic smile, the nurse gently led him toward the waiting room, but he stopped once they reached Sarah’s room.

“My niece is in here. I think I’ll wait in here for now if that’s ok. You’ll make sure to keep us posted, right?” Tommy entered the room once the nurse nodded. Joel remained in the same place, hand smoothing over Sarah’s hair in a gentle, rhythmic motion as the tears streamed down his face, soaking the sheets next to her left arm. Tommy felt his heart shatter watching his brother, the tiny shards piercing his chest with visceral pain.

“She’s in surgery,” Tommy choked on the words. “She lost a lot of blood.”

Joel turned devastated, watery eyes on him, but before either of them could say another word, a police officer walked into the room. “Mr. Miller?” the young officer inquired, Tommy and Joel both nodded and he cleared his throat. “Uh, Joel Miller?”

At that, Joel stood, wiping away the tears with a rough swipe of his hand. “That’s me,” he said, voice rough and scratchy.

“Ok. Could we have a word in private, sir?” The officer glanced between Joel and Tommy, uncertain.

Joel cleared his throat heavily. “This is my brother, Tommy. He can hear whatever you have to say.”

“Alright, sir. I’m Officer Grant, the responding officer to the accident. I just wanted to meet with you to gather some information.”

Joel’s expression darkened, brows pulling together. “What kinda information?”

Officer Grant shuffled closer with hesitant steps, pulling a notepad from a small pocket on the front his vest. “Just the usual. We’re trying to confirm witness statements and make sure we have all the facts about the accident, sir. Let’s start with the basics. Sarah Miller is your daughter?”

“Yes,” Joel grunted with annoyance. He stepped back to Sarah’s side, pulling a chair over to sit close to her.

“Were you aware that your daughter was in the car with a Miss, uh…” Officer Grant glanced down at his notes, stating your name.

“Yes.”

The officer gulped. “Ok, I just had to confirm it wasn’t a kidnapping situation.”

“Uh huh.” Quickly losing his patience, Joel glanced at Tommy for help.

“Could you, uh, tell us how the accident happened? No one’s told us anything other than there was one,” Tommy interjected.

“Oh.” Officer Grant’s eyes shifted between Joel, Tommy, and Sarah’s prone form on the bed. “Shit. I’m sorry, I should have started with that rather than interrogating you.”

“Damn straight,” Joel mumbled under his breath.

“A drunk driver failed to stop at a traffic light and hit the car your daughter and, uh—”

“Girlfriend,” Tommy interjected at the dark look on his brother’s face. “It’s his girlfriend, soon to be fiancé, we hope.”

“If she fucking survives,” Joel sighed, tears springing to his eyes again.

Grimacing, the officer continued. “The driver struck their car as they proceeded through the intersection, causing it to roll twice.”

“Fuck,” Tommy breathed with a glance at his unconscious niece. “I’m guessing the drunk driver hit the driver’s side of their car, just based on Sarah’s injuries?”

“That’s correct.”

Tommy nodded, watching Joel out of the corner of his eye. His head hung low, shoulders shaking as he fought off the sobs.

“Did you get the guy, at least?” Joel asked without looking up, his voice breaking on every other word. He was a wreck, on the verge of a panic attack.

“Yes, sir. We got him. His blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit,” Officer Grant admitted. “He’s in lockup now. He won’t get out of this one.”

After a prolonged period of silence, the only sounds in the room a mix of beeps from the machines monitoring Sarah’s stats and Joel’s sniffles, Officer Grant excused himself. Tommy took a seat in the remaining chair across from the foot of Sarah’s bed. Out of his depth, he had no idea what to do or say to his brother.

A nurse just finished checking Sarah’s vitals, letting them know more details about her injuries, when JB walked in. “Oh, nugget,” he said mournfully at the sight of his favorite little girl, and he moved to Joel’s side to place a comforting hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “How’s she doing?”

Joel’s shoulders lifted with the sheer effort of trying to breathe. “She has a concussion and hasn’t regained consciousness yet. Scrapes and bruises, but no broken bones aside from her wrist, thankfully.”

JB nodded, the hand still on Joel’s shoulder squeezed once, twice. “She’s young and strong, son. Our little nugget will heal quickly, I promise.”

Joel could do little more than nod, his eyes glued to his little girl’s face, praying she’d wake up soon. He wanted so badly to believe your dad, to trust in what he promised, but…

“Any word on Spud? They told me at the nurse’s station that she’s still in surgery, but they couldn’t tell me anything else.” JB’s voice became choked with tears at the end, emotion taking over at the thought of his own baby girl being so severely injured.

Shaking his head, Joel could barely get the words out. “We haven’t heard anything either. We haven’t even seen her yet.” He paused for a minute before lifting his head to look up at JB, bottom lip wobbling. “What if…”

“No, son. Don’t say it. Don’t think it,” JB warned, pulling Joel to his feet despite their size difference. He placed his hands on Joel’s shoulders, jostling them a little to get Joel to meet his gaze. Two sets of teary, bloodshot eyes stared at each other. “My baby girl is strong, just like yours. She’s a fighter. She won’t leave you, us. She would never, not if she could help it.”

“I don’t know if I’d survive if she did, JB,” Joel said, his voice so small and broken. He practically collapsed against JB, forcing the older man to support him as he cried openly against JB’s shoulder.

Even Tommy couldn’t fight the tears threatening to slip down his cheeks as JB pulled Joel into the tightest hug, the two fathers clinging to each other in a mix of despair and hope as they worried about their little girls.

tbc

I'm sorry. if it's any consolation, I brought tears to my own eyes writing this.

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

@lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg

@ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby

@deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981

@marirxse @lizzie-cakes @tynakub @subconsciouscollapse @babygabe @cuteanimalmama

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #idiots in love #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst

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effetsecndaires · 1 year ago

Text

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝. (𝟏𝟖+)

INCLUDES | nahoya kawata, souya kawata, seishu inui

CONTENT WARNING | smut, oral (fem receiving)

NOTE | I'm not sure how I feel about this one, but I hope you like it! request

— SOUYA.

You sat down on the couch, frowning slightly as you looked through the collection of DVDs that were scattered on the coffee table before you.

"Did you pick a horror movie?" you called out, raising your voice so Souya could hear you from the kitchen. The sound of popcorns popping in the microwave filled the otherwise quiet room, your boyfriend's voice following suit.

"Yep." A few seconds later Souya walked into the living room, reaching into the bowl of popcorn and looking at you mischievously. "You're not scared, are you?"

You responded with a scoff and a roll of your eyes, trying to appear brave. "I'm not a pussy."

....And, boy, were you going to regret that statement.

As the movie progressed, Souya glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He noticed your tense posture and the way your fingers clenched around the popcorn bowl, your knuckles white.

"Not a pussy, huh?" he whispered against your ear, grinning teasingly. You narrowed your eyes at him before turning back to the screen, flinching and gasping when a side character got brutally killed, his screams of agony chilling your blood.

Here goes that good nights sleep.

"Hey, uh... do you need a break?" Souya suddenly broke the silence, starting to feel genuinely concerned. He hadn't noticed before, but you looked really pale.

You nodded quietly, setting aside your pride just this once. You set the bowl on the table, trying hard to stop your eyes from welling up.

"Shit...I'm sorry, I didn't think it was that bad. Are- Are you okay? Come here." he rambled nervously, taking you by the hand and guiding you onto his lap. His hands immediately went to cup your cheeks, his lips pressing to your cheek.

"I'll be fine, it's just... a little too gory for me. Just give me a minute."

"We don't have to keep watching. It's okay."

"No, no! I'm fine. I promise."

"You don't look fine, baby. Let me help."

Before you could say anything, he was manoeuvring you both so he was on top of you, your lips meeting in a soft kiss. You stayed quiet as he broke the kiss and you bit the inside of your cheek when he got down on his knees and parted your legs.

"Are you serious?" you chuckled, your hand tangling in his curls. Souya nodded, winking at you.

"I was getting bored anyway. And I'd much rather hear you scream." You laid back against the couch with a soft sigh as he began taking off your pyjama pants, looking up at you from between your legs and trailing kisses up your thighs. "Relax. I'll take care of you." he whispered, sliding your underwear down your legs and discarding them somewhere on the floor. Then he began to rub circles on your clit with his thumb, slowly building up your desire for it. It wasn't long before he remplaced it with his tongue, eager to make you feel good, his determination fuelled by your moans.

— INUI.

The living room was dimly lit, intermittent flashes from the TV flickering across the space. The movie playing in the background was completely forgotten though, your moans and whimpers drowning out the screams coming from the character on screen.

Inui's hand was resting on your cheek as you rode him, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that the movie had brought to your eyes. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he began kissing down your neck, whispering words of comfort and praise against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm sorry, baby." he whispered, his voice soothing. "I didn't think it'd scare you like this." he kissed your lips softly, trying his best to comfort you, "You're doing so good. Such a good girl for me, hm? Come on. No more crying."

You nodded, letting out a weak "okay" as the knot in your stomach tightened more and more with each passing second. Seishu's distraction technique had erased every disturbing image from your brain, turning your anxiety into lust and desire.

The sound of the TV turned into white noise the closer you got to your release, leaving only the sound of your own moans and Seishu's echoing in your ears.

— NAHOYA.

You were cuddled up against Nahoya, a blanket draped over the both of you as you held his hand tightly, your entire body tensed up in fear as you anticipated the next jumpscare.

"I thought you said you weren't easily scared...?" You tutted and slapped his arm, staying quiet.

Nahoya chuckled at your response and that was the end of it, his attention going back to the screen. But then the jumpscare flashed across the screen, catching both of you off guard. You squealed and practically jumped onto his lap, wrapping your arms around him and hiding your face in his neck.

You stayed like this for a couple minutes, clinging onto him, watching the screen from the corner of your eye. You felt a small sense of comfort when Nahoya wrapped an arm around you and placed his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing your skin in slow circles.

After a few minute his hand had not left its spot on your thigh, your skin feeling warmer from his touch. It wasn't until you began to shift to try and get off his lap that you felt it slowly trail up your leg, making you stop in your tracks.

You gave him a questioning look but he simply smirked, eyes still on the screen as he began to tug at the hem of your pajama shorts.

“Wh-What are you doing?”

"You look like you need a distraction." He chuckled quietly. "...Just focus on the movie, yeah?"

With that, his hand slipped inside your shorts, cupping you. You let out a soft gasp as he began stimulating your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, his eyes never leaving the screen as he did. You caught a glimpse of his stupid smirk from the corner of your eye, a small whimper escaping your lips when he picked up the pace.

You eventually decided to give in and make yourself more comfortable on his lap, your back now pressed against his chest, his arms holding you close as he played with your pussy, taking your mind off the disturbing things on screen.

#x reader #reader insert #souya kawata x reader #nahoya kawata x reader #seishu inui x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader

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starleska · 2 years ago

Note

Hello again!! I'm the anon from before (and I'm glad to hear you had a nice time yesterday!!!), and here's what I wrote.. I've been thinking a lot about the 'Wally eats with his eyes' idea, as many have been !!! I'm not sure how to warn for what this exactly so feel free to tag it with whatever you deem necessary. Wally just. Likes you a lot lol. i guess this is a little silly but i had a good time writing it haha

You are having a staring contest with your friend Wally.

You can't quite remember who started this, or why. Just that Wally had wanted to draw somewhere outside and you tagged along with him, until you were sitting somewhere in a field of flowers around the Neighbourhood.

Wally simply returns your gaze, unblinking, his hands folded over on top of his sketchbook. You think this has lasted long enough. What you want to do is crack a smile or a joke, but you find that your muscles are frozen stiff, and your tongue is so, so heavy.

His pupils expand.

You're supposed to panic about being this frozen up. Moving shouldn't be so difficult. But it's like your body feels like even stressing out about this is too much effort. You feel warm. Your eyelids tremble with the effort to blink. There is no movement, though your eyes don't burn either. You've held them open for so long that the world starts to gray out around you.

His pupils expand.

Wally leans his head to the side, little by little. You mirror his movements without thinking. The tips of your fingers are tingling, your feet feel numb as if fallen asleep. He smiles at you even more than usual. You think that this makes you happy. His lips part slowly, as if to speak, and-

"Hiya, guys!" Eddie calls out from the path to your right.

Your body jolts in surprise, and the spell is broken. By the time you whip your head around to look, Eddie has already continued his delivery route without waiting for a response.

Your returned awareness feels like breaking the surface after almost drowning. A weight disappears from your body, and you practically double over, gasping for air. Your shoulders are shaking, your eyes wide. When you squeeze them shut, it burns. You feel tired like you never have before.

"That was good," Wally says. For a moment, you are hesitant to turn your head back and look at him. You want to hide from his eyes. But you snuff that thought out as soon as it pops up, because that's just silly. You must've eaten something wrong, or have caught a cold. What else could explain this.

You look at Wally. He looks normal, and his eyes upon

"W-what did you say?"

"I asked: Are you feeling good?" Wally speaks even slower than he otherwise would, but his smile is as wide as ever. "You don't look good, friend."

"I don't… I'm a little out of it," you force out a laugh. "I think I'm getting sick."

Wally leans forward.

"You'll be okay," he says, and puts a hand on your knee. "Let's sit here until you feel better."

!!!!!! anon!!!! anon do you know how good this is?!?! oh my gosh!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭 honey, i cannot express how much i adore this fic. it's such a wonderful blend of terror and intimacy, so frightening and claustrophobic yet warm and safe in a way you can't understand...ugh, i'm in love 🥴 your descriptions are so vivid - i could really feel Your panic and nausea. some real Lovecraftian horror stuff going on in here. and oh my God the little detail of him saying, 'That was good' and then switching to 'Are you feeling good?' absolute chills!!! 😱😱 if you feel comfortable enough, you should absolutely post your writing somewhere!! you've got such a talent for writing, Wally in particular, and i'd love to read more of your stuff should you be inclined. i'll definitely be taking some tips from this awesome little fic going forward 😉 thank you so much for sharing 🥰

#all you eye-horror/hypno fans are gonna have a blast with this one wow #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling x you #starleskasks #tw: scopophobia

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godhandler · 5 months ago

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analysing the martials arts of Jujutsu Kaisen - Karate

Suguru Geto

watching him fight makes my mouth water. every move is so perfect, so textbook, so nerdy almost. he STUDIED pure Shotokan karate. when he punches its the right target from the right distance at the right power at the right speed i wanna melt. the ease with which he shifts from blocking to grappling to close handed strikes. the scene of his beating up the old man in hidden inventory is pure orgasmic karate perfection.

he's super confident when he fights. he puts power in his punches (just the prescribed textbook amount). princess doesn't even tie his magnificent hair up (???).

he's very consistently aggressive. unlike karate, he has the boxing spirit where there's no gap between attacks, no hit-and-run. his attacks end when the opponent does.

god his stances, im drowning its so perfect. when panda is tossing his around in jjk 0 he's alwasy landing in the correct kumite postion, feet parallel and shoulder distance apart, knees only slightly bent.

usage of weaponry is uncommon in karate, but he's adept at it. the Playful Cloud, sanjigun (three sectioned staff) is an insane weapon tbh. if u look at it as a more complex nanchaku (which was my first reaction and mostly how todo uses it) its not that useful, as explained very well here. geto uses it more like a super flexible staff, which is really innovative and gets better use out of it as both a defensive and offensive weapon. but the one person who defo uses Playful Cloud best is Toji.

if i have to summarize, i'd say he fights cleanly. he knows he has both the height and weight advantage on yuta and uses both as full body strikes from "above". plus he's surprisingly flexible even in those flowy ass robes. he knows what works for him, he's done it for a longgg time (those reflexes take years to come) and he does it well. he keeps it short-range. he's a monster in combat.

surprisingly he's not particularly using any grappling techniques, even though he that would give him an easy edge over yuta. maybe yuta's hard to grapple, maybe gege akutami didn't think of it.

if i had to point out any flaws, i'd say he doesn't bend his lower back and hips enough to break falls. its a very minor complaint tho, he's delicious as a martial artist. a big issue is that he clearly doesn't lose much and hence doesn't know when to stop and change strategies. like, his fighting is on reflex, not because he's thinking thru each of his moves. but ig that's more of a personality flaw than a combat issue.

Noritoshi Kamo

it's very funny, he uses an old-fashioned traditional style in a very spunky rebellious way. definitely karate based on the prominence of upper body strikes over kicks, the open handed strikes and punches and that definitive teisho-uchi (palm heel strike). Even though Shotokan karate is more popular, he's practising the Shitorio style. we can tell cuz his stances are more upright, the way he prefers to hit fewer strikes with more powers than bombard his opponent with many strikes of lesser power, and his constantly-changing-his-base-position footwork.

when striking, he uses exclusively 'hard' techniques, as in he's sparring earthbender style, not airbender style. he's going for full frontal attacks and he's putting a shit ton of power behind them, which means he either doesn't expect to get blocked or he's not expecting the opponent's block to be very effective. (if u hit proper fucking hard with no gloves and get blocked hard ur hands will hurt like hell and uv wasted all the power and movement).

however, in general he does use a lot of "soft techniques" otherwise, grabbing megumi's tonfas away mid fight. he also just dodges attacks, only using blocks to create an opening for him to attack. irl, most combat happens in very short range so blocking is easier to dodging. but kamo fights mostly long distance, very typical karate hit-and-run type technique, where u do a few attacks and immeditealy create distance. a good technique considering his tall height. this is also why i think its Shitorio karate instead of kyokushin (which is tougher and keep-hitting-them style and lots of shin kicks).

there's no flashy moves like toji or even geto or yuji. kamo uses the most basic and actually practical moves. even though his strength is a given with Flowing Red Scale enhancing him, by the way he shifts his weight, you can tell that he knows how to turn his speed into momentum to create a shit ton of force. I wouldn't like to get punched by him.

as i mentioned, he's using orthodox styles in his own way. his stances aren't textbook correct, like geto, he's just doing what feels stable to him at the moment. he twists his palm heel strike unlike the common finger-up version. he doesn't move his eye before his head, he turns his whole damn head fully. he's sort of going with the flow, a bit too loosely for a traditionalist.

what confuses me is that he's not using himself to the fullest. at 5'10, he's taller than most people, so why not 1. attack from "above" such as overhead and on-shoulder strikes and 2. fucking use your damn kicks man. specially 'kick down'- the kicks that start above the opponents head and end up pushing them to the ground.

in the anime fight, he's deliberately trying his best to not hurt megumi. the entire fight is really short, but he's doing his best to just disarm and not to injure even a little. he's taller and megumi's head is wide open. the heavy tonfas by his side that makes it harder for megumi to block his face than torso... kamo literally punch his face. im dying here tbh. kamo punch his head. even if he blocks his face ull get a second where his eyesight is completely blocked and that's all u need to hit him in the kidneys or spleen. bam fight over. but noooo he's hitting him in the middle of the chest (twice! vary ur target positions to keep the element of surprise!) like what r u doing my man. it's like he want his attacks to be blocked. he fights like he's only 80% committed to it. i'd call him confused but very very talented.

#jujutsu kaisen #noritoshi kamo #jjk #suguru geto #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk noritoshi #kamo noritoshi

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1moremilgram-enjoyer · 1 year ago

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is everyone in milgram just dead

Okay I'm making this post because while I'm not sure how much I believe this, it's a possibility that's been eating at my head for a while, so I gotta share it somewhere even if it's not the most solid theory in the world.

So anyways, hello members of the jury! Today I want to discuss the weirdly recurring theme of the prisoners in Milgram possibly being dead, and Milgram being some sort of afterlife thing. Given the fact it clearly has some supernatural elements, it certainly isn't impossible. So let's get into it!

CW Death, murder and suicide, abortion, child abuse, drowning, cults and indoctrination, waterboarding, gang violence

Yuno and the Allegations

The biggest hint that at least some of the prisoners might be dead is the in Yuno's second VD, Absolute Zero.

Yuno: Oh! Also, that reminds me, there was one thing I'm curious about. Es: What? Go ahead and say it. Y: Am I…really alive? E: That's…what do you…. Y: Hm…if you don't know, then it's fine. E: Yuno…. Y: Hey, it's time, right? E: Y-yes. Prisoner number 2, Yuno. Sing your sins.

Weird thing to say, really. So, presumably, she has some reason to believe she might be dead. Which is especially worrying because Yuno is one of the most intelligent and perceptive prisoners in Milgram, and might even have higher awareness of some of the more supernatural/meta elements of the series, as seen by images from both her cover songs appearing in Umbilical and Tear Drop.

All this is to say, if Yuno has reason to believe she might be dead, we have reason to believe so as well.

There are two points of Yuno's story were I feel she could have died. One is during her abortion, given a question from Trial 2.

(T2) Q20: Did you hate the person you killed?

Y: It was too much of a pain to for me to think about anything.

So her abortion was painful, which likely means it wasn't done in a hospital, as professional abortions typically don't cause too much pain in the moment (source), even if they can cause cramping or discomfort in the recovery period. If it wasn't done professionally, and it hurt a lot, it's very possible she may have died while performing it.

However, because of a few things we'll talk about later, I'm not sure this is very likely. The answer I find more likely is that, unfortunately, she may have committed suicide by jumping off the staircase we see her standing on in her Undercover silhouette shot.

For one, because what the hell would this shot even be otherwise. I've seen people suggest infanticide as opposed to abortion, but that wouldn’t cause physical pain (you could argue that answer is about emotional pain, but I'm not sure how much that works), it doesn't match her kill-shot in Undercover, and she herself has claimed her "muder" was abortion (and I don't see reason for her to lie about that). It also doesn't seem likely she would get pregnant more than once, seeing this question:

(T2) Q10: If you could turn back time, would you commit the same murder once again?

Y: I'd make sure that I won't have to commit it. That's it.

So, then, what the hell is up with that Undercover shot? Usually they say something important about the prisoner or their crime, but it really doesn't seem to have anything to do with anything.

This is where I bring up that Yuno falls off a staircase at the end of Umbilical.

Like, obviously this is more meant to be metaphorical, as in Yuno "slipped up" and now has to avoid falling by grabbing the balloon, which ends up destroying the staircase which had previously been related to the mixing of DNA (long story). But... she still is falling from a staircase. That is what is happening in the video. This is a silly argument, but it does exist.

Now, there's a few other things which could imply this, but that will have to wait for a moment. So while there is very little evidence for now, I'd say this is the most likely reason for why Yuno believes she may be dead. Especially given she might have depression (check out this cool post by weather-cluddy), her comitting suicide is sort of the best guess we can make I feel.

Nevertheless, no matter the reason why, Yuno believes she may be dead, which opens the door to other characters, if not all of them, to be dead as well. Let's take a look at the other prisoner most likely to actually be dead in my opinion, and see if we can establish a pattern.

Haruka's Worrying Situation

I believe, even if no one else is dead, it is highly likely Haruka attempted suicide. I am not going to go too in-depth in here, because moibakadesu already made a really good post about it, which is where I got the theory from in the first place. In fact, the idea Haruka may have at least attempted suicide has existed ever since Trial 1, check out this cool post by Venus from thinkin-bout-milgram. Here's a summary of what the main points of the theory are:

-The repeated motif of water and drowning could indicate the way Haruka killed himself, especially since he lived in Naogaka, Niigata, known as the "city of water."

-Haruka repeatedly attacks and even strangles a younger version of himself in Weakness, in one occasion alongside the lyric "I've become a victim, I've become a victim."

-The young girl in Weakness might actually be a representation of the "ideal Haruka", as he's stated his mother wanted a daughter instead of a son (I don't actually agree with this part, I do think the girl is a literal girl Haruka killed, due to several lines from his VDs, such as him saying Amane "brings back bad memories." However, it's still a possibility)

-The nonchalance with which Haruka speaks of comitting suicide in his second MV, Metamorphosis of the Weak, could imply he's already done it once.

-The line "if with one click, and I can reset everything" in AKAA can be more directly translated to "if with the push of one button I could be reborn", which paired with butterflies being symbols of death and rebirth and being connected to Haruka because of the name of his second VD, could imply Haruka died and was reborn.

-Haruka standing on a chair in AKAA as his shadow lines up with the shadow of the bars in the window to create the ilusion he has a noose around his neck.

-At the end of AKAA, Haruka is surrounded in what looks to be formaldehyde, which is used to preserve the corpses of dead animals, while the aforementioned "I could be reborn" lyric plays.

As you can see, there's a lot here, which is why I think it is highly likely Haruka comitted suicide.

There is an issue with bringing this theory in, which is that part of the theory is that Haruka's silhouette in the Undercover shot doesn't have white noise, which separates him from the others and could imply he's a victim like Hinako and Mahiru's boyfriend, who similarly have no white noise. The problem for our purposes is that this theory assumes a lot of the other prisoners, such as Yuno, may have committed suicide as well, creating an inconsistency with this point. I don't have a good answer for this, beyond a really odd, Hamlet-esque "Haruka is a victim of his own madness" kind of thing which doesn't work very well, so unless any of you have another explanation, it's best for this theory to just sorta ignore the white noise thing.

So, now we have two prisoners who very likely died before Milgram. This vaguely establishes a possible pattern: what if all the prisoners were taken right as they died?

Muu’s Mysterious Memory Mishaps

Es: You said you wanted to go back home, right? And, "suppose" we did let you… Even if you were to leave this place, you'll then have a brush with the police, won't you? Muu: *Surprised* E: I mean, you've killed someone anyway, so are the police not making a move in regards to that? M: Well, I don't know. As of now, I don't have a clear memory of what happened after I did it. And then before I knew it, I was here. E: Is… that so? M: You guys should've known that, being the ones who brought me here after all.

This line from Muu’s first VD has always intrigued me. Muu doesn’t have a very good reason to be lying here when seen in full context, so she’s likely telling the truth. But, why? Why doesn’t Muu remember anything clearly after her crime, and why was she taken so quickly after committing it?

First idea is that perhaps all the prisoners are simply taken right after the murder they’re in Milgram for; even in the case of multiple murders, you can say Milgram just decided to take them for the last one exclusively.

However, Shidou serves as a counter example, because of the ending of Throw Down.

It’s a pretty simple logical progression. Shidou has no reason to kill after the flower person dies, so their death is after his last murder most likely, and yet he does remember it happening. Thus, Shidou has a memory of something which happened an undetermined amount of time after his final murder.

That means the "fuzzy memories" thing isn't universal. This can also be vaguely inferred by the attitudes certain prisoners have regarding their "murder(s)", like Kazui for example.

Now, you could argue Muu simply doesn't remember well because of the Trauma, and she just happened to get taken shortly after her murder. However, there is a chance now that there is a reason she was taken shortly after her murder.

You know what this post is about. You know what I'm about to imply. So I'll make the observation now:

In It's Not my Fault, one of Muu's shoes is off after she kills Rei. And we have seen this imagery of "one shoe off" to represent suicide before.

It's common in Japan to take both shoes off before comitting suicide, but if you want to read into only one of the shoes being off, you could argue it represents they're "half-suicides", as Milgram also considers them murders. In that sense, you (or Muu) could argue were Muu to commit suicide after killing Rei, then she would also become "Rei's victim", the same way Hinako and Mahiru's boyfriend are Kazui and Mahiru's victims.

This idea that Muu might still be a victim in the situation could also be implied by the lyrics here:

[It's Not my Fault] It’s not my fault after all, after all. Everyone wants me to be innocent. What a relief. Can’t be helped. I’m always meant to be pitied!

(Btw I'm using the fan translation in the wiki because the English subs in that video are... odd)

Yes that sentiment is repeated a lot during the song, but Muu does shout "I'm always meant to be pitied" ("I'm always the drama queen") at the top of her lungs here.

Now, the shoe thing isn't quite like that in After Pain, but we never actually see Muu's shoes in the real world, only in the blank inner world with the broken hourglass, and there are other inconsistencies with reality there, namely Rei's body's position.

You can see her right shoe is on there, but again, this scene isn't real.

The concerning thing is that apart from that, After Pain does not help Muu beat the suicide allegations.

In particular, look at the scene of the photo I put there. You can see there's a bunch of people judging Muu for her murder, as it's usually not considered a socially acceptable thing to do. But, hold on, didn't Muu say she didn't remember anything after her murder? Correct! That means she doesn't remember this "judgement" happening, but she imagined it would. Perhaps that's what the one line means:

[After Pain] Counterattack being a suicide note

Counterattacking Rei, killing her, is social suicide. For obvious reasons.

...

But it's still called a suicide note, which is not a good look. And yes, I do think the Japanese lyric explicitly references death, though take that with a lot of salt since that's just Google Translate and DeepL talking.

In fact, that entire set of lyrics is pretty odd.

[After Pain] Let’s meet up inside the pain, a place just for me Postmortem makeup to hide my heart, how to solve it is a secret The stabbing of the little devil’s voice, counterattack being a suicide note “I love YOU”

"Meeting up inside the pain" probably refers to hurting Rei, so now they're hurting together. The "stabbing of a little devil's voice" is probably referring to dangerous impulses, so murderous thoughts. "Counterattack being a suicide note", already explained. "I love YOU", because Muu is a girlkisser.

But the "postmortem makeup" is odd. You could argue the "death" which happened before the "makeup" was applied was the "death" of Muu's reputation, her old persona. Rei "killed" "that Muu", and now Muu is hiding her real feelings with "postmortem makeup."

But then, why would the method to solve it be a secret? Who is she keeping it secret from? Rei, and all of Muu's old 'friends', all know what lies beyond that makeup, they all saw what Muu was like before Rei stepped in.

That means there's another interpretation. If her real feelings are a secret, there's only one person they would be a secret from. Es (and us by extension). In a way, After Pain is hiding part of her heart, the less sympathetic parts shown in full in It's Not My Fault. Muu being a bully was already implied in After Pain, mind you, but it was still relatively "hidden", at least compared to It's Not my Fault.

And if that is the way we're meant to read that line, we run into the allegations again. If the makeup is for Milgram, and it's "postmortem" makeup, then Muu is already dead.

And that's without mentioning how much After Pain seems to imply suicidal tendencies in general.

[After Pain] If I was gone, If I had just disappeared I overheard, I found out How much I’m not needed There’s no special meaning, I got the short end of the stick I overheard, I found out How much I’m not needed

I don’t want tomorrow to come, I want to forget yesterday I was miserable, someone please help me

Maybe I’m done Just one more time before saying goodbye I’m just kidding, please forget I said that

The only lyric that doesn't seem to imply it is:

I want to feel “alive”, is it ok if I breathe?

But feeling alive and being alive isn't quite the same, right? You can be alive without feeling alive, and if someone doesn't feel alive, it's possible they're not a very good state of mind.

So, what could this all imply? If we're going with the idea of murder-suicide, it's possible Muu was very worried about how people would hate her after the murder, as implied by After Pain, decided she didn't want to deal with that, and unfortunately made the decision to kill herself.

One small thing which could serve as a counterpoint is her Trial 1 Voice Reveal distorted line.

Fufufu... It's your fault... for doing horrible things to me.

She seems pretty sure of herself here, and it's very likely this is after her murder. But it's perfectly possible she said this initially, then thought about the social consequences, and that's when she started to feel bad. It's also worth noting the only time in It's Not my Fault where Muu seems to hesitate is right after her murder.

[It's Not my Fault] Wait, wait, just as a hypothetical. What should I do if I’m actually a bad girl? Don’t ever hate me, and don’t look for what lies “after and from” the pain.

This is immediately after the murder, when she comes out of a caccoon, presumably her arriving at Milgram. So, she was initally confident, that's when she says "I’m always meant to be pitied!" in It's Not my Fault and presumably her Voice Reveal line, then hesitated and started to feel awful as we see in After Pain.

... Well, there's also the way more uncharitable reading where Muu killed herself so people also pitied her instead of just hating her for killing Rei, but that's a bit too dark and in bad faith for my tastes. It is there, though.

So, yeah, Muu may be dead too. And she brings with her an interesting implication; the prisoners may not have clear memories of the events leading up to their death. So, even if some of them committed suicide, it's possible they simply don't remember ever taking the decision to do so, explaining their behavior in the prison.

And it also could explain away... one apparent contradiction. One which exists outside of this theory, but that this theory could explain.

Amane and the Voice Reveal Trailers

As most of you know, the Voice Reveal trailers for all these characters contain certain distorted phrases which in general seem closely linked to their murder. And as pointed out by blueepink07 in this post, it seems the First Trial Voice Reveals are things the prisoners said after their murder, while the Second Trial ones are showing a point before their murder. Check out Kazui's, for example.

(T1) "I'm so dumb... Why did I have to dream?"

(T2) "Hinako, I love you more than anything."

There's also Muu's, since I've already brought it up before.

(T1) "Fufufu... It's your fault... for doing horrible things to me."

(T2) "Hey..why don't you listen to me...? I'm telling you... Hey...HEY, I'M TALKING TO YOU"

The second being right before she killed Rei.

That works well enough for all the prisoners... except Amane.

(T1) "Ahh! I'm so sorry...! I'm sorry...! I'm sorry for breaking the rules!"

(T2) "Father is a very praiseworthy person. Once [my/his] virtue increases, he'll come back home, right? It's a little lonely, but I'm fine!"

In theory, Amane would have been punished before her murder, as we see happen after she heals the cat in the taser scene. Meanwhile, if she's lonely without her father, it could perhaps be because her mother is dead after Things Happened (yes I'm going with Mother!Victim theory on this one).

But that's not the case. Following the pattern, the line about her father coming home at some point is before her murder, and apparently, she was punished for breaking some kind of rule after her murder. The implication here, horrid as it is, could be that her father returned home after she killed her mother and punished her for doing so.

Thankfully, this is impossible. After all:

(T1) Q18: Do you regret your "murder"?

A: No. It was a natural obligation.

(T2) Q3: State the name of your victim.

A: There is no victim. Only the punished.

(Taking some liberties on the translation of Trial 2 since the questions are still coming out as I write this)

So Amane genuinely believes she was following her cult's principles to a T when she killed her mom. As much as that likely isn't the case (long story), if she had gotten punished for killing her mom, then she wouldn't think like this. If she had been punished for it, she wouldn't think her murder was a "natural obligation", but rather a mistake on her part.

What this implies is that Amane doesn't remember being punished by her father.

...

Amane... doesn't remember...

Fuck.

Yeah, remember when I said it was possible the prisoners don't have clear memories of the events leading up to their death? Going by the "T1 after - T2 before" logic the Voice Reveals seem to follow, we can infer Amane was likely punished for killing her mother, but we also know she can't remember it happening, otherwise she would regret it. And based on what we learnt from Muu, we do have a way to explain how that could happen. If Amane died while receiving the punishment the T1 Voice Reveal alludes to, she wouldn't have a clear memory of it.

And the thing is, it does seem likely Amane received this punishment. Think about it. Interrogation questions are one thing, since the creators don't fully control them, but why mention her father would possibly return home in the Voice Reveal trailer? Unless he did. Hell, you could argue we might know the exact moment he returned. Amane does look at the entrance of her apartment at the end of Purge March, though that could simply be for dramatic effect rather than being a literal thing which happened.

But there's more. Because if her father returned home, we might actually have an answer for another one of the mysteries surrounding Amane's situation. The Undercover prisoner card.

The image on her card seems to show a bathroom. It is widely assumed the images on these cards are the location the murders happened in, but to my knowledge, this isn't 100% confirmed. However, this creates a small issue with Amane. Just looking at the murder shot in Purge March is enough to confirm that.

I made a more detailed theory on her murder on this post, diagrams included (scroll to the bottom if you're only interested on the murder), but for now, there are two things to note here. One, there's a trail of water which seems to come out of the door with the light on, as the puddles are bigger the closer they get to it, implying that room is the bathroom. And two, the room the murder actually happened in seems to have a window/door behind a curtain, which isn't what Amane's bathroom looks like.

Adittionally, there isn't any blood outside of the murder room, implying the victim's body wasn't dragged there.

All this seems to imply Amane's victim didn't die in the bathroom, which is sorta a problem considering the previously mentioned commonly accepted theory. But this idea that Amane may have died while being punished, perhaps while being drowned as we know that's one of the accepted methods of punishment in her cult, brings up a different possibility.

What if the images in the prisoner cards aren't showing murder location? What if they show the last place the prisoner was seen in, the place they died?

Kotoko, Mikoto, and the Prisoner Cards

So, first, is there any indication either of these might be dead? For Mikoto, not really. Sure, there's the whole Death card at the end of MeMe thing, but that doesn't have to be taken so literally.

Kotoko has a very little potential hint in the fact she's shown alongside a wolf at the start of HARROW, but by the end the wolf is by itself. If the wolf represents a potential partner (long story), then maybe Kotoko died?

Though you can easily argue the wolf is slightly different and thus is meant to just represent Kotoko.

However, the reason I'm bringing them into this is because their prisoner cards are completely nonsensical under "murder location" theory for the images shown. Let's start with Kotoko.

It shows an alleyway, which at first seems like it makes sense. We do see her attacking a man in an alleyway. However, after that happens, one of the pieces of background text says this:

◆ A wanted thief was assaulted by an unknown assailant Early yesterday morning, a nearby shop employee reported hearing screaming and seeing a man lying on the ground. According to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, the man had lost consciousness after being beaten on his face, stomach, and other areas, and was taken to the hospital. The police are currently trying to identify the suspect. [...] According to previous investigations, the male victim was wanted throughout Tokyo for theft and assault charges and was identified as the suspect, Mikio Oshii.

(Translation by Maristelina)

Mikio Oshii is the name of the man Kotoko assaulted in the alleyway. It seems odd to me that we would learn he was taken to the hospital if he later died in it somehow, especially because Kotoko didn't want to kill him. We can clearly see this because of a crucial difference between her attack on him and her attack on the serial killer who likely is her victim.

She covers her face while attacking Oshii, because she doesn't want to be recognized. She is committing assault, after all. However, that only matters if she's planning to keep him alive. Conversely, she doesn't cover her face while attacking the serial killer, because she knows he won't be a witness. She went into that warehouse planning to kill.

Of course, she could have accidentally done too much damage, but the issue there is that she would probably express some remorse in that case. She doesn't, and the fact she only ever talks about one victim-

[TASK (T1 VD)] I did kill someone. [...] I don't have a single regret.

-it really seems like Oshii was able to survive her attack.

That creates an issue with her prisoner card. It shows an alleyway, but her only victim died in a warehouse. As confusing as that sequence is, he did die in the warehouse.

You know when we do see an alleyway again, though?

But she's not wearing her face covering. And if this was the alley with the one sign about a car accident that shows up over and over in HARROW, I'd imagine we'd see the sign, even if it was obscured in some way. So once again, a silhouette shot which seems to have nothing to do with her murder or her general situation.

So, is it possible she died in this alleyway? That's the only other reason I can imagine why it'd show up in her prisoner card, so. As for what exactly happened, I imagine she may have been murdered at the whim of her victim's father?

Shocking revelation: The heinous criminal behind the crime is the privileged son of a high-ranking official!

(Article referring to Kotoko's victim)

So, she got found out and immediately assassinated? It's a bit out there, but it would explain both her prisoner card and her attitude in the prison.

And then there's Mikoto.

As you can see, his card shows a street. The issue with Mikoto is one of format. The cards only ever show one location, but we know Mikoto has at least two victims.

[Text: To the right, the Subway Murder, which clearly has a ceiling. The murderer has blood on his right cheek, his left cheek is hidden. There's also the bathhtub scene, where the right cheek is hidden, but the left cheek has blood already trailing off, which doesn't quite fit what we see in the other murder if you think about the bath chronologically.

To the left, a murder out in the street, with an open sky. The murderer has blood on their left cheek, but not on their right. This is seen in both the crime and the shower scene]

So yeah, at least two. You could argue the bathtub murder is actually a third one, which... huh. Two things that absolutely exist and a Secret Third Thing, the existance of which is disputed? Trikoto vibes.

Point is, Mikoto has two different murder locations at least. The street, yes, but also the subway. This creates a problem with the "images in the prisoner cards are murder locations" idea, because it only shows one. You could try to gymnastics your way out of this by saying maybe Hostkoto committed the street murder while Orekoto killed the other victim(s), and because only Hostkoto is considered a prisoner by Milgram, only his murder is shown? But I feel that raises more questions than it answers.

Instead, if we assume the images to be death locations, the ambiguity disappears, because Mikoto as a system can only have one death location. The issue is you have to explain how Mikoto died in the middle of the street, which is a bit difficult.

The best guess I can give is related to the subway victim. It's been pointed out before that guy looks a lot like a stereotypical Japanese delinquent, which could imply he was part of a gang. If that's the case, it's possible the killer angered the wrong people by killing him, similar to Kotoko, and thus was later murdered himself. We know that street isn't very safe, on account of one of the alters getting away with murder there. It's a pretty large stretch, and has like zero evidence, but it's physically possible at least.

Let's take a quick look at the other prisoners and see if their images can also be explained by the "death image" theory.

We know Muu would share a death location with her victim if she really committed suicide as the theory states, so nothing weird there. Haruka's a bit more awkward, because it shows the forest he very likely killed the girl in, but I'm not entirely sure if the forests near Nagaoka has bodies of water deep enough to drown oneself. There is the Shinano river, which has... trees, around it.

This was taken from Google Street View in Nagaoka. Again, not sure how deep it is, but assuming it's deep enough to drown, it could work if you ignore the trees don't look too much like the ones irl. Maybe Haruka threw himself off the bridge?

Alternatively, Nagaoka borders the sea, and it seems like there's forest almost all the way up to it. So maybe that could work? Unsure.

Worst comes to worst, we can maybe change it to saying Haruka didn't drown himself, but killed himself in some other way in the forest. Point is, I think Haruka's isn't too big of an issue.

Fuuta, Mahiru and Kazui don't have a lot of evidence towards what the hell would have happened, but the best assumption I can make is they all committed suicide because of guilt. Fuuta in his room, Mahiru in the suicide forest (likely also where her boyfriend committed suicide), and Kazui by jumping off a building like Hinako. As for their evidence...

>Fuuta burns at the end of Backdraft, which is the same thing that happens to Killcheroy, so you could argue that's meant to show he's dying. It's not great, it absolutely is just meant to be metaphorical most likely, but it is there.

Additionally, he's also an outlier for the "muder location image" theory, since what one would consider his "murder location" is very ambiguous. Is it his room, where he sent online hate from? Is it Killcheroy's room, where she assumedly died? Wouldn't it be the front of Killcheroy's house, where Fuuta took the picture to dox her? Again, death location is less ambiguous.

Fuuta's attitude during Trial 1 could be seen as a bit weird if he was suicidal, but I'm not sure we can comfortably say that with the limited information we have.

>Mahiru in I Love You goes to sleep after seeing her boyfriend dead, which could be read as her committing suicide. You know, if you're insane like me.

Especially given this question from Trial 1:

(T1) Q20: What do you think about smoking?

M: I've never smoked before, but I might copy him if who I love smokes.

That, alongside a lot of the bg text from TIHTBILWY, implies Mahiru likes the idea of copying her lover. Not the greatest quality to have when your lover commits suicide.

>Kazui has this:

Where the smoke of his cigarette turns into a noose. Of course, that's meant to represent self-destruction in general, but it could also be taken more literally. He... doesn't have much else.

Thus, everyone else vaguely fits the idea of "death image"... except him.

Our favorite headache inducing doctor strikes again! His card shows a hospital room, which is a very strange death location, but perfectly fits his murders. You could argue he runs into the same issue as Mikoto, but it's actually possible Shidou just killed all his victims in the same room, so.

Yeah, Shidou's probably the biggest counterargument for this theory. Because while it's possible he died in a hospital, there is zero evidence for it, beyond the image itself. Hell, neither Throw Down or Triage ever seems to imply he died in the first place, which is an issue. This theory's already heavily dependant on the extremely flawed "you can't disprove it" argument, but at least most of the other ones have some kind of logical progression which gets you to how they died.

So, to complete the theory, we have to make the pretty big jump that Shidou died inside a hospital room, without knowing how that happened.

... Wait, inside the room?

Wait wait wait, show me Fuuta's and Amane's again.

Hmmm... 0308... hmmmm... 0308... I totally didn't just do this to put the two together... hm...

Yeah, same thing. They both show the inside of a room. Which, along with Shidou's, shows that these images can show the inside of buildings, right?

But, then... why is Yuno's outside?

That very clearly isn't the inside of a building. But this generates a problem for the "murder location image" theory, because Yuno's "murder" was abortion. Even if it wasn't done professionally, she would have still done it inside, presumably. This creates an inconsistency with Fuuta, Amane and Shidou. If their murder locations are shown from inside, why is Yuno different?

However, this inconsistency disappears if we assume the images to be death locations. I previously established if Yuno died, she likely committed suicide by jumping off a staircase, which does vaguely fit this image. It's similar to Kazui's in that way.

Now, I don't want to get too ahead of myself here. Murder location is still absolutely the more straightforward answer, but it does come with its issues. As stated, Fuuta's image would face some ambiguity, Mikoto's would face extreme ambiguity, Amane's seems to contradict the evidence we're shown in Purge March, Yuno's is wildly inconsistent with the other images, and Kotoko's is straight up nonsensical.

Meanwhile, death locations physically work with all the cases, even if Shidou's case is extremely weird, but it requires huge assumptions and stretches. It relies heavily on how impossible it is to disprove, which is not a good sign. Russell's Teapot, and all that.

Summary of the Theory

>Everyone in Milgram is dead, and their prisoner cards in Undercover show the place where they died.

>Prisoner's memories of the events leading up to their deaths are extremely fuzzy, explaining why only Yuno seems to even suspect it.

+Haruka: Committed suicide by drowning himself, possibly in the Shinano river or the sea. [Most likely to be dead]

+Yuno: Committed suicide by jumping off the staircase we see her standing in on her Undercover silhouette shot. [Most likely to be dead]

+Fuuta: Committed suicide in his room out of guilt. [Very little evidence]

+Muu: Murder-suicide, she committed suicide after killing Rei. [A bit more evidence than others]

+Shidou: Died in a hospital room [???]

+Mahiru: "Copied" her boyfriend by killing herself in the suicide forest. [Very little evidence]

+Kazui: Jumped off a building, like Hinako. [Very little evidence]

+Amane: Drowned by her father as "punishment" for her murder. [Unfortunately, sorta likely]

+Mikoto: Murdered by one of the members of Subway Victim's gang. [Sort of filling in the blanks here]

+Kotoko: Murdered at the order of her victim's father. [Very little evidence]

Conclusion

Do I believe this theory? Honestly, I don't know. It makes a few too many assumptions for me to fully believe it, but I do think it's a decent possibility, so I wanted to share it with you all. In any case, that's all I have to say for now. If you have any thoughts about any of this, feel free to share! Also I didn't even touch on Es but you can try to fit them in somehow if you feel like it.

Anyways, if you made it this far, you deserve a hug, this post was depressing. Take care!

#milgram #milgram project #milgram theory #fuuta kajiyama #amane momose #mikoto kayano #shidou kirisaki #haruka sakurai #yuno kashiki #muu kusunoki #mahiru shiina #kazui mukuhara #kotoko yuzuhira

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creaturefeaster · 23 days ago

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Is there anything that can harm a mime? I assume the usual bashing and stabbing and slashing, etc., but what about liquids? Can they drown? Burn? Can acid harm them? Can a mime crack? Is there anything that would harm them but not harm the usual human?

Their vessels are varyingly durable. Imagine the sturdy rubber of the bottom of a shoe, but much thicker and denser. It is very hard to hurt them through impact/bashing alone. They can be tossed down a mountain with little consequence, so long as they're not unlucky enough to hit a jagged spire on the way down.

Stabbing is effective in the short term, but with such a dense shell it is difficult to produce enough of a bleed before they heal up, to deal any major harm to them. Cutting chunks out of their torso is a better solution, but difficult to achieve with thicker shells.

They cannot drown, as they do not breathe. Fire is attractive, and harmless to their extremities, but can damage their vessel through long term exposure. They are not particularly flammable however. Heat can also excite their hemolymph and make the mime more volatile, so I personally wouldn't try and set fire to them.

Harsh acid is particularly harmful to them, and has peculiar effects to their hemolymph as well. In fact, there are particular spots in the world where their initial impacts exposed pockets of acid-- something that is a problem in many places on Theia-- and so some mimes have taken the time to clean up these hazards/put the material to better use. It's that dangerous, so they'd prefer to get rid of it and not take their chances.

A mime cannot crack perse, but with enough pressure or brute force to the head or torso, they can begin to split. This is harder to achieve the thicker the vessel is.

Gunshots and spears-- things that impale easily or create gaping wounds-- are most effective. These are more difficult to heal from, and can be especially fatal the lower the wound is on their torso. After all, it has more to do with the loss of hemolymph than the damage of the body.

Heavy impacts to the head can also be fatal, so if you drop a boulder or an anvil on their head a la Wile E. Coyote, that can be an insta-kill. Smaller, more acute damage to the head is not nearly as effective; Hence TyV suffering a gunshot to the head, losing the ability to see in one eye but otherwise living on to tell the tale.

As mentioned in a previous ask, extreme cold can shut their vessels down. They have no body heat, so personal insulation does not assist in keeping them warm. The cold cannot kill outright, as it merely freezes their hemolymph-- the stuff that keeps them functioning-- and can reliquify once they are warmed back up. However, because they are inanimate and vulnerable in this state, it makes it much easier to kill them.

Magic with darker elements can prove to be harmful to them, even if the magic itself is not cast with the intention of harm. Darkness in general weakens them greatly, generally weakening their vessel's shell as well as thinning their hemolymph, causing quicker loss in any case of bleeding. However, death-type mimes are not typically hindered by darkness, so even that method can be a gamble.

There are a lot of things that can hurt or weaken them, and many more things that cannot. Some (thinner, weaker vessels) are more susceptible to damage than others. Some do not heal as quick, and the amount of hemolymph they have plays a factor into this as well.

As for anything that could kill a mime, but wouldn't kill a living being... um, Michael I guess? He's a pacifist, but if it comes down to protecting the living, I'd wager mimes aren't covered in the fine print of his pacifism.

#brambleramble

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i-did · 5 months ago

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Hi! I wanted to ask you opinion on Thea. I have seen that a lot of people in the fandom kinda hate her but I dont share their reasoning so I was really curious about what you think.

I honestly have very little idea of what the fandom is saying, I stay out the tag mostly and just live in my little bubble. I saw what Nora responded with pre-TSC being upset with the fandom painting Thea as a groomer, which I also disagree with. I feel her and Kevin’s dynamic pre-canon was undoubtedly unhealthy due to the fact that they were in an extreme underground sport cult, and she was older than him but he was also #2, below only Riko and the Master himself, which gives him more agency than just a typical teenager. I don’t believe they are healthy – Kevin didn’t tell her the truth, and they had been a secret so long but also hardly communicate – but I don’t see it as one is the Bad partner one is the Victim partner, just… two people who are together in a super fucked situation.

That being said – I didn’t like Thea in TSC lmaoo. I thought she had a lot of wasted potential as a character. She is in and out, concerned but then gone– I wish she wasn’t someone who was so concerned for Jean, only to immediately disappear. Thea is written to be unaware / in denial which almost makes her parallel with Cass in some ways– clinging to an idea of what happened vs. what actually happened. I’m not saying these make her a badly written character– I think it could actually be really interesting to explore. Sometimes, characters fandom's hate are also interesting.

She was an opportunity to see into another ‘fallen Raven’s’ mindset. How is she coping with Riko’s death? How could she try to ‘help Jean adjust’ which actually makes him fall back into unhealthy Raven habits? Her texting or calling Jean could spiral into panic attacks or remind him of what he's trying to leave behind even if she was just telling him ‘remember the diet plan’ and was unhelpfully trying to be helpful <- these idea's coming from @hopingforcoordinates. It would have been interesting to see her more so we could see that she wasn't just someone ignorant but someone who also was desperately clinging to the illusions of the Nest needing to have been worth it, otherwise what was it all for?

Maybe in the next book we will see more of that but who knows! I hope we do because honestly seeing the Raven’s flounder and fall apart is interesting to me and I'd like to see it as more than just in the background, especially as a narrative foil to Jean's own healing journey.

So I don’t dislike her for moral reasons. She kinda rubs me the wrong way, but I want to hate her more and then sympathize with her and see that she’s also been broken by the Nest – despite having ‘made it’ similarly to Kevin. She ‘has it all’ but is still drowning.

I feel like TSC was written with an audience in mind, unlike the first AFTG books, which has shifted the tone significantly. The first three AFTG books exist in a different realm to me than TSC, tonally and more. I’m curious to see where Nora goes from here and will definitely read the next book too.

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #ask #mailob #thea muldani

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snapscube · 1 year ago

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hey big fan of your channel and art!! was wondering if for the midnight snap series what kind of sound design you were doing it rlly sounds nice!! (also smth that could be nice with it is maybe a little bit of like tape saturation or something might be able to make the audio sound "warmer" if youre like not already doing something like that already, but you probably know better than me!!) feel free to ignore that, but wanted to say in general its so well done and sounds so good!!! its really cozy and nice!!

hey thank you!!! yeah i'd.... genuinely LOVE to talk about my thinking and approach behind the sound design, i'm actually so happy you asked me this LOL this is the kind of shit i live for.

you might assume that it's just me recording the game audio and talking quietly with my normal stream settings, and that is kinda how it STARTS, but there's actually a bit more i've been doing behind the scenes :) nothing too crazy just yet but a little goes a long way when it comes to sound! i'm hoping to really nail down the soundscape and increase the quality over time and specifically up the soothing vibes by a lot. as well as get a little better about mic etiquette and my style of speech. BUT in terms of what i'm doing in post:

the first piece of the puzzle and definitely one of the most important sauces in the whole mix is the Hard Limiter. it does what you might imagine it does, basically just places a hard barrier and says "any sounds that exceed this volume.... no you don't", sort of like a much more intense compressor. currently i have a Hard Limiter on both my commentary AND the game audio, commentary i have set to peak at around -15 to -12 db, whereas game audio is more around the -23 to -20 range. in my more polished audio from later in the AC episode it's enough difference that one doesn't drown the other out in most cases, but not a wide enough gulf that people are struggling to pay attention to one in particular or have to frequently change volume (preferably they don't have to change it at all!). i took this screenshot of the episode's complete waveform when rendering out the audio-only version of AC part 1 and it was super satisfying cause like.... yeah. this is exactly the kind of waveform read i was going for. just super even and smooth across the board, save for a couple anomalies i'll buff out over time.

the next thing i do to both my own commentary and the game audio is actually just cutting down on harsher, higher frequencies with an EQ and just upping the bassier, warmer tones. i started with something super small in the first couple of episodes, i'm probably gonna go a bit harder on it for future stuff though. i wanna find a balance that doesn't make the game sound unrecognizable or anything but is noticeably easier on the ears and sounds more like a nice rolling wave rather than beep boop pac-man time.

past this i have a couple more things added to the commentary track:

to intensify the previous effect mentioned and cut down on harsh frequencies in my speech, i actually have a dedicated de-esser on my voice as well as my usual warmer EQ. i have the de-esser going pretty hard too, you might hear the difference from my usual stream commentary if you were to listen closely. really just taking those harsh t's and s's in my speech and making them sound more like a nice "shhhh", this one is super important i think

last thing i have to speak on otherwise is actually a plugin i found and bought specifically for this show and ends up being subtle but i think SUUUPER helpful in the long run, and that's this plugin called "spiff". spiff is a plugin by oeksound and i guess it's referred to as like, a transient editor? i'm actually not sure how it works at all on the nitty gritty level BUT the important thing is that they have a very important preset in the software, and that is a preset specifically designed to lessen and/or remove like... mouth sounds. yknow like lip smacks and the like. just kinda the gross smacks and clicks you don't hear as much in normal speech but can come through really intensely on a recording and kinda make ya uncomfortable. it obviously doesn't remove a lot of the more intense stuff, it's not a magic wand in my experience. but listening to the output of what it's removing on its own makes it REALLY clear there's a lot of little things it picks up and just kinda makes speech more soothing to listen to. not something i'm racing to apply to my normal streams, BUT for a sleep aid series where good audio is key????? 100% worth it, i like it a lot.

anyway yeah that's about it for now! a lot of it is pretty simple in and of itself but it's stuff i've been working at and experimenting with since i first started doing tests for the show and it's gonna be real nice to keep honing this stuff in. also cool suggestion with the tape saturation idea, i might look into something like that! once i nail stuff like leveling and frequency tuning for this show, i wanna look into some fancier ways of making the soundscape unique to this show compared to my normal streams so ideas like that are super helpful!

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darksideofthemoonbot · 8 months ago

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Slaanesh

As I previously covered my favourite chaos god, Nurgle, I thought I'd go on to my second favourite: Slaanesh. Not my favourite but the one I relate to the most. Fair warning, this gets personal and not especially amusing. Rather dark actually.

For context to start: I have chronic pain, fibromyalgia stemming from childhood trauma, since I was nine years old. I also have significant mental health issues for which I get therapy and medication. I have only been treated for the chronic pain for a few years, after about 27 years of literal constant torture by my own nervous system.

I understand obsession and chasing the next sensation. Of extremes of passion and self destructive indulgences. I self medicated in various ways for a long time. I am also, as I joke sometimes, a "recovering yandere". I've had times where I've become so obsessed with someone I only know online, that I spent the entire day staring at a message screen waiting for a reply, despite them probably being at work or otherwise busy; because interacting with them was the only thing that mattered and gave my life purpose. New sensations, greater sensations, were always needed to escape the torture chamber of my body.

On a lighter note: on to the circles of seduction

Avidity – I grew up in the 80s and 90s, when "greed is good" was really taking hold in public consciousness. Despite that, this temptation has rarely been much of a love of mine. I collect sins as a hobby but my desire for money has not generally been for money's sake, more on that later.

Gluttony – for so long, food was more an annoyance to me than anything. The suffering drowned out any enjoyment so it was merely a tedious habit I had to partake in to survive.

However! Now that I am getting treatment, I can enjoy things again. And the lack of familiarity with pleasure from food makes it so intense sometimes! Most recently I had a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich on generic store-bought whole wheat bread. It was so good. Unbelievably good. My mouth tingled so much it tickled and I almost had to stop eating. The savoury all natural peanut butter, the sweet tang of the jelly, and the soft squishy texture of the bread. Oh dear gods it was heavenly.

Carnality – this seems to be what people first think of when they think of Slaanesh, which to people not on the ace spectrum is probably obvious. For a long time I thought I was ace. No interest, in fact I was hostile to the idea due to trauma. But trauma response is not the same as being ace, and it turns out I am not. Very not. Switch/vers, bi. And in a committed relationship of 24 years with a partner who has no complaints, heh.

Paramountcy – power, control, influence. These are a heady wine for many. I have considered running for local office, school board or something, with ambitions to perhaps state level. Not that I have the means, I am regrettably disabled and the demands of power are too much for me. Doesn't stop me dreaming. And thinking I am more worthy than others to wield such power. Perhaps foolishly.

Vainglory – remember greed above? This is where it gets me. I don't want money for money sake; I want it for all the good I could do with it. Buy and forgive debt. Start businesses that pay better and sell lower. Scholarships. Political influence to improve people's lives materially. Providing food to those in need free of charge. Building low/no rent but well maintained housing. Just do a whole lot of good with vast fortunes. Because then people will love me, cherish me, praise me for my largesse kindness. I will be invited to all the public events, have hospitals named after me, get messages of gratitude from all those I've helped. To be worshipped, in a secular way, for my use of my money. And yet remain rich, for after a certain threshold money compounds upon itself indefinitely.

Indolency – here's the circle where I die. I am... so tired. Decades of misery have drained me. Medications sap my energy even as they reduce my pain. I've had long swathes of time where I'd go to bed around 21:00 and sleep until 10:00. And then nap in the afternoon. Napping in fact was my chief hobby for many years. I didn't know relaxation until recently, as I was always tense; trying to hold myself up so less of me was pressed on a surface, because it hurt. I still struggle to relax and let a bed or chair hold me up without my effort. It is an alien sensation, frightful in a way, as though I will fall through the world if I let go.

The Palace of Pleasure – no line uncrossed, no barrier unbroken, no debasement too low, no extreme too high. Worry not, dear reader, I do in fact have scruples. But I relate to the notion well. After half a lifetime of senses dulled by endless unchanging aches and an unbalanced mind, I yearn. I yearn for all those experiences that many take for granted. The joy of a sandwich, the thrill of minor ambition, the softness of restorative rest. Pleasure. It isn't what I expected. I imagined pleasure as a passive feeling, a relaxation and untroubled feeling. A soothing of the pain, I couldn't imagine more. Yet it is more than that. It feels very much like the opposite of pain, an intense and sometimes stabbing sensation. A good one. Like a pain but you want to experience it. Pleasure can be so good and so intense, a mirror of what life used to be.

And I want more.

#chaos gods #slaanesh #warhammer 40k #warhammer fantasy #i am also intersex so the mixed gender expression of slaanesh daemons is relatable

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tamelee · 2 months ago

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Hi Tamelee!

I was wondering if you could give me some tips/advice about color theory (in art/illustration specifically)?

Anyway, hope you’re doing alright! ( how’s life post uni if that’s not too intrusive?)

With luv <3

Hi @bruitdevague !!

No problem! ^^ I mean, with AI and all, things have changed a lot since my previous plans fell away. It's a bit stressful to say the least... But I don't want to stop drawing, and I really want to dive deep into storytelling (I also can't wait to share my SNS stories with all of you 💕) so, we'll see!

And yeah, sure!

Color theory is a massive subject though, is there anything in particular you want to know more about? For me personally, I think the best thing you can do is to simplify your learning process. I've ignored color theory for a long time because I found it complicated and overwhelming and always just thought I'd wing it. The main reason being that color is relative: it changes depending on the impact different interactions have with the subject: material, color temperature, transmissions, reflections, etc. And my brain can't really handle "well, it depends" when it comes to learning new things. But the result is obvious; I think some of you may be able to see at which point I finally started to learn it a bit on my own journey. ><

Of course, you’re completely free to use whichever colors you want and experiment to develop your own style regardless of theory, but understanding how colors interact is helpful, and in some cases, crucial. Some things are just more visually appealing together and more effective to suit the mood you're going for. (Look for complementary color theory, here's a helpful tool.)

I think, above anything else, the best thing you could do is start learning how to cell-shade until it becomes easier. (It's the art/shading you see in anime, webtoons, and comics.) This also helps you with forms and shapes.

Open a document, add a screenshot, and take your color picker to study the color wheel and take notes on saturation, hue changes, and light.

I've done this many times until things just started to 'click' in a way. But take your time, it can take a while. For some this also might be overwhelming, in which case I recommend doing this while studying the theory together.

When it becomes easier and you want to take it a step further, then look at the famous ball that explains other lighting:

And honestly, also take your time with this.

Take any term, learn what it means and implement it one by one until it starts to make sense.

One thing I'd certainly learn first, or which one has been the most helpful for me is learning about color temperature. Since color is relative, shadows/highlights can become cooler or warmer (it's the shift in hues), which is a much more efficient way to look at it than determining whether something is just darker or not. When I started, I learned greyscale values at first, and although it helped me a lot regarding readability, it never taught me any of this, setting me back for a while. If you want to learn more about the theory itself, I'd recommend: "Color and Light" by James Gurney, and follow along while reading with a document to experiment. Or watch YouTube tutorials for free, but definitely scribble along while you do so! I think, even if you watch YouTube tutorials, it's important to have some kind of goal, or steps you want to take, otherwise you'll drown in all the information. So, this is what I'd recommend:

Cell shading (like in anime, webtoons or comics)

Learn about color temperature and experiment with casual scribbling.

Study the relevant terms which you see in the circle (sometimes they have slightly different names though. "occlusion shadow" can also be referred to as "ambient occlusion")

Implement them one by one into your art/illustrations if you want. Maybe just add highlights at first, then maybe consider focusing on the terminator if you're interested.

Practice a lot and whenever you find something you like, use the color picker to see what happens to the colors. You don't have to copy it, but you can copy the changes within your color wheel and see what happens!

Like I said, it's an incredibly large subject, but I hope this can at least give you some direction ^^💕

#asktamelee #bruitdevague #art tips #art advice #color theory #I genuinely don't know if this is helpful or not #but if there is anything specific #feel free to ask always ^^

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soldrawzz · 10 months ago

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"Fox Chase" - A Super Short Moomin FanFic

A friend of mine and I were chatting on instagram when we came across an ADORABLE little video of a red fox kit prancing in some wildflowers (fox zoomies, so cute!) It got me thinking and in a spur-of-the-moment move I wrote a super short Moomin Valley oneshot Fic. My friend encouraged me to share it here for others to read. I'd like to invite anyone who feels compelled to doodle/draw/sketch for this lil fic idea to go ahead and do so (I might try as well at some point). Be sure to share it with me if you do so I can see what amazing stuff you came up with!! HAPPY SPRING EVERYONE!!

FIC BELOW

Moomintroll awoke earlier than usual. A whisper called out through his dreams from deep inside him; Something Needed To Be Seen. Rather than roll over and sleep away the feeling he rose from his bed, stretched with a yawn and peeked tired eyes out his foggy window into the early morning light. The sun hadn't quite made it over the mountain peaks yet. The valley was blanketed in a thick fog, obscuring most in view beyond the forest tree line. The whisper grew stronger within, compelling him to abandon the cozy warmth of his room and walk out into the stirring world.

Something Needed To Be Witnessed.

With a sigh Moomin pried open his window, stepped over the frosted ledge and slid down the makeshift ladder, landing with a gentle 'thump' upon the dewy grass. Away he marched across the bridge, glancing sideways to greet his blurred reflection and off he went into the beckoning woods.

At first he wandered aimlessly, admiring the shifts and swirls of the fog as he stumbled over logs, tiptoed around melting patches of snow, until the tug from inside drew his attention to a small animal trail. The trail was only slightly overgrown with dormant weeds; he was certain he hadn't seen it before winter and surely wouldn't have otherwise noticed if not for the nagging feeling demanding he follow it, sooner rather than later. Onto the path he stepped, pace hastened until a ways away Moomin found himself led to a clearing along the hillside. A gentle breeze rustled the early spring flowers ready in waiting for the mist to clear, to meet the rising sun. Still more the feeling called to him, Witness Me, See Me. Moomintroll stepped into the clearing and the world fell silent. The early birds roosted and waited, the trees stood tall, still. He forced himself to breathe, slow, deliberate breaths despite every fiber of his being screaming to hold it in for fear of drowning out the now bellowing call; Watch, See, Observe.

Moomin crouched low to the ground, the grass tickling his chest and chin as he met the moist earth, and waited. Sunbeams broke through the clouds, drifting lazily above the clearing. The fog began to clear in patches as the steam from the heated earth forced it up and away. The purple and pink flowers began to pop into life, opening bit by bit to the inviting warmth of the greeting sun. Still Moomintroll waited, waited. Watching...

A rustle in the trees, A Call, A Cry, A Whistle, A Tune. A song grew in his heart, familiar and longing, loving. He knew now what was coming before he saw but still he waited as his mind and heart caught up with his line of sight. In the distance, across the meadow a small green figure approached the field. Soft footsteps, barely audible, made their way to the edge of the clearing and halted mere inches from the buds.

The figure slid something heavy off his shoulders, dropped it beside his feet and proceeded to remove a pair of old, time worn boots. He then removed a tall green hat from his head and placed it up against the trunk of an adjacent tree. Moomin clasped his hand over his mouth as the figure stepped cautiously into the clearing, carefully weaving between patches of pink and purple, head whipping back and forth like a deer screening the horizon for signs of threat or disturbance in the otherwise tranquil meadow. The coast was clear. Moomintroll was not spotted. He observed as the pull in his heart, the humming voice in his head began to bellow to Watch, To See. His urge to rush upon his friend only just outweighed by his curiosity at the site of Snufkin gingerly sneaking his way to the center of the field. The boy in the tattered green cloak took one more look around before glancing upward to the sky, almost directly into the sun, standing firm and rooted, as if to dare the sun to beam down on him with all it's might. He took in a deep, audible breath, held it. The voice within Moomin suddenly went quiet and he looked on in puzzlement...

The boy raised his arms above his head, stepped forward a few inches with a single toe and with a shout as high as a whistle and jolly as an elf, Snufkin rolled! Cartwheeled into the flowers! He leapt and bounced and ran in a circle, bounded back to chase a tail that was not there. He doubled back and ran from one end of the clearing to the other, laughter like blue bells tinkling in the morning sun. And the world breathed! The birds chirped, the trees swayed, the breeze whipped Snufkin's hair about his face, tugged at the snowy tufts of Moomin's fur as he stared in bewilderment through the tickling grass.

Moomin stifled a startled laugh, the call in his heart returning in full force, changing it's tune. Join Me, Come, Let's Play! And Snufkin danced on in the Spring-filled meadow, relishing the sun and singing back to the breeze, to the trees, to the birds and the bees. A newfound courage overtook Moomintroll, drove him to leap into the clearing and cartwheel into his friend.

Snufkin fell to his knees with a gasp, and stared down the troll in shock. He panted, winded, eyes wide and frenzied; Moomin's own bashful but hopeful. The boy lifted himself from the ground, brushed off his coat with a long sigh. Moomin looked around confused as the silence between them seemed to still the breeze and a cloud passed over the sun, it's shadow engulfing the entire pasture and accentuating the last of the mist that still clung to the treetops. Where did the voice go? What happened to the song?

"Well then..." Snufkin finally spoke after a long pause. "Best get ready." His voice was stern, scratchy from lack of use. How long had it been since they'd seen each other? Spoken to one another? As Moomin glanced up the clouds cleared, the sun returned, willing away the last of the fog to feed the hungry needles of the pine trees. A small hand reached out to the troll. Moomin, shyly, took the hand and hoisted himself up, dusted off his portly belly and made to apologize for disturbing his friend's (very odd) ritual....

"To the boulder and back!" Snufkin roared and OFF like a bullet he ran to the far end of the field. Moomin nearly toppled again in his bewilderment. Chase! Chase! Run, Tag, You're It! The voice rang out and without a second though he dashed away after his friend, never to overcome him, for how could he really? A wild spirit like Snufkin couldn't be caught, couldn't be tamed, but to be invited into the revelry when the song beckoned them, how could Moomintroll resist the chase? Spring had finally come. Welcome Home, a mirthful voice rang out, and Moomintroll couldn't tell whether or not it was his own.

(The End)

#moomins #moomin valley #moominvalley #moomintroll #snufkin #fanfiction #fanfic #moomin #soldrawzz #snufmin #snusmumriken #mumintrollet #solwritezz #Snufkin is the fox in this scenario #moomin gotta chase the boy

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firsttimewriter92 · 2 years ago

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Hello! I'd love to request a fic with the reader being Sirius's wife after they're at Hogwarts but before Lily and James' deaths, shortly after they get the news about the Longbottoms being tortured. The reader wants to have sex but Sirius initially hesitates because his wife clearly is trying to distract them from the news (doesn't have to be graphic smut!) Thanks!

Hi there, anon :) Thank you for the ask. I´ve been in a writing slump lately because I get into my own way, making everything to complicated, too detailed. But this seemed like something I could do and it was lots of fun! :D It brought me back to my lovely Sirius. Maybe now I can finally finish my series "Everything Black".

It doesn´t get too steamy but there are some dirty passages, I hope you like it. Otherwise it´s pure fluff and angst. Thanks again and I kope you all enjoy <3

Title:

It hurts to look at you

words: 2.303

The moment the door closed behind Dumbledor´s swaying robes and a deafening silence covered the small kitchen in Godrics Hollow, two women and four men dissolved into either horrified sobs or heavy breathing, trying to control their own shock to the news.

Lilies flaming red hair covered one side of her face that was pressed into James´ neck. Little whispers of “No, no. Why them?” left her lips. James eyes were dull and unseeing as he stared at the bottle of elderflower wine on the table. One arm wrapped around his wife, his other hand covering the back of her head.

On the other side of the room, Peter sat on the table, covering his quivering lips with one hand. He was paler than usual and his knee had not stopped bobbing since Dumbledore brought the news of Franks´ and Alice´s horrific fate. He looked like the man standing behind him felt. Remus knew how to hide his emotions but this time he couldn’t quite manage. With wet eyes he held the look of one of his best friends across from him.

Holding you in his lap Sirius looked at Remus over your shoulder while you sobbed. His grey eyes reflected less sorrow than shock and all-consuming hatred. Of course he mourned the fate of his friends, the single tear that ran down his cheek proof enough. But it wasn´t enough to drown out the red hot edges that covered his vision. It wasn’t enough to stop whishing for another name, other relatives. He felt guilty. Guilty for sharing the blood with the person responsible for yet another tragedy. Yet another destroyed family, yet another two lives lost and so many more scarred.

He wrapped his arms closer around your waist and kissed your neck lovingly, trying to calm you down. You where whimpering right next to his ear, fear shaking your entire body while you clung to him like a life line. Again hate flared inside of him. How dare they!? How dare they inflict so much pain and strike terror into the one living being that made it all worth it for him?! He fought for many a reason these days. Most of them were present right now but you were his damn wife. His reason to breath and keep moving. The two of you had gotten married right after Lilly and James although you hadn’t been together for as long as they had.

Time and circumstance however made people fall in love quicker, more madly and desperately. That´s how it was for Sirius and you. You´d only gotten to know him in you last year at Hogwarts. For so long you had tried to avoid the boisterous teenager until he began noticing you. First, every time your house played Gryffindor and you hit a blutcher in his direction. He´d avoid them mostly, grinning at you wolfishly. Then he started noticing you in the hallway which you found incredibly annoying. He just couldn’t walk past you without some kind of comment. “Don´t swing at me, (y/l/n) we´re not on the pitch” “Hey,___ do you like sweets? There are some in our common room”.

One day he walked up to you, arms stretched out to the side as he proclaimed right smack in the middle of the courtyard “(Y/l/n), you are like the stars in the night sky, guiding me towards a brighter future!” You knew of course that he was fucking with you so you just turned to him and with an obvious fake smile, sweet as honey you said, “Sirius, my love. You are like the sun to me.” He looked shocked for a second, his grey eyes widening. “Hurts to look at ya.”

Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he´d laughed so hard. It was the moment he knew you were something special to him. He didn’t quite know that he´d fall arse over broomstick for you yet though. That happened later, in the order, under darker circumstances. Still, the gentle fondness he felt for you changed into a burning passion whenever he saw the bravery you showed despite your anxious demeanour. More than once he´d consoled your shaking form with a glass of fire whiskey the moment you got the message that everyone was safe at the end of the day. Seeing you battle through that and still be hilariously dry-humoured, incredibly kind and quite frankly a rock to him, his protective instincts kicked him the last bit of the way until he almost couldn’t stand not being in your presence.

And then one evening, he´d just come back from a mission that took way longer than it should have. He´d entered the Potters living room, heart beating out of his chest, worried about you. Within a second your body had slammed into his and without thinking twice about it he´d lifted your head with both palms and kissed you feverishly. And that was it. Eight months later you´d gotten married.

____________________________________

You lifted your head off of his shoulder and worriedly he looked up at you, both his hands stroking back your hair. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy as you whispered with a raw voice. “Why?” Sirius had no answer and he hated himself for it. He shook his head slowly and stroked your cheeks. “I don’t know, my darling. I don’t know.” “They…They´re gone. Frank….Alice. Both…Oh Merlin, why like this!!??” Your forehead landed on his as fresh tears fell from your eyes and onto his skin. Sirius breathed heavily, stroking your sides slowly and soothingly.

“What…what happens to Neville now?” you heard Lilly ask. “He´s only a day older than Harry!” Again she started crying while James answered her. “I´m sure Frank´s mother has him now. He´s in good hands, Lils. Please don´t worry.”

“There´s going to be a hunt” Remus´ voice floated through the room. Everyone looked at him while trying to gather themselves again. “You´re right” Lilly said and wiped at her wet cheeks. The stoic look coming back into her eyes. “You´re right. There´s nothing…” she swallowed. “There´s nothing we can do for Frank or Alice anymore. What we can do, is go after… them.”

You admired Lilly for her rationality. She was right of course. You needed to snap out of it. There was work to be done. “But not tonight” Lilly said. “We need tonight for…” she lost her words and looked at her husband. Everyone got the hint and stood. Hugging your friends closer that usual you left the Potter´s house and stood outside for another moment. Sirius turned to Remus.

“You wanna crash on our couch again, mate? You´re welcome to” Sirius looked sternly at Remus, though he already knew what the answer would be. Remus gave a tight lipped smile, took a deep breath and shook his head. “Sorry, Pads. Not tonight. I´ll go see….my parents. I think.” Sirius nodded shortly and hugged his friend again. He whispered something you couldn’t make out to him and let go. Remus´ smile seemed more genuine this time around as he waved at you and disapparated.

“He´s not going to see his parents, is he?” you asked quietly and took Sirius´ hand. He was still staring at the spot were Remus disappeared. He sighed and shook his head. “He writes them occasionally but…it´s been ages since he saw them.” He squeezed your hand tightly. “He´s already on the hunt.”

Sirius looked down at you with a solemn look. “Let´s go home, yeah?” You nodded and braced yourself for disapparating.

Your feet hit the ground in front of your small flat. Without many words, Sirius and you got changed and ready for bed. You felt emotionally drained and yet, something inside you was boiling over. So after not being able to fall asleep, even with Sirius´ strong arms wrapped around you from behind you slightly stirred. “Sirius?” you whispered into the dark. “Hmm? What is it, my love?” he immediately answered. A small smile tucked at your lips. Huddling closer to him you kissed his forearm that was resting close to your face. “I love you more than words can say” you simply stated. You felt his chest stop moving for a second before you felt his lips on your shoulder. They moved slowly and gently over it and over your neck to your ear. Goosebumps erupted all over your body, heat creeping from your center up to your belly.

“You are my everything” Sirius´ deep voice penetrated your ear, vibrating through your every vein. “Love is not a strong enough word to describe what I feel for you, what you are to me, my darling.” Again you felt your eyes water. “I know, dove. You´re scared. I know” he whispered with a slight choked up voice. “We´re doing the right thing and it´s scary. Whatever happens, my love, please know that I´ll always be with you.”

“Please don’t talk like that” you whimpered and the tears fell silently. “It needs to be said,___. I´m sorry but please listen to me.” He kissed the shell of your ear. “Tomorrow is not promised. But as long as I have your love, I´ll fight until my last breath to return to you. Every day.”

You turned in his arms as quickly as you could and smashed your lips to his desperately. His arms pulled you in immediately. The kiss was not gentle or slow. Pure desperation guiding you in the way you grabbed at his ink black, luscious hair or how your tongue glided over his quicker than usual.

Sirius didn’t mind at all. He knew that you needed this right now and he would be damned not to give you anything you so desperately needed. He did worry a little bit though. His fingers dug into your side to try and slow you down just a little bit. That proved to be rather difficult though as you just decided to slightly bite his bottom lip. He always went feral whenever you did that and right now his head was swimming with desire. He felt your leg moving right between his and with a grunt he felt your knee slightly bump his erection.

“Want you, Sirius” you panted against his lips. “Want you so much.” Your lips descended onto his throat as you climbed on top of him. And so, with a long and strained groan Sirius grabbed your hips in a vice like grip. “Hold on. Stop, darling” he whispered desperately. You didn’t react and started to grind onto him. “Shit! Dove, please. It´s not…stop. Stop, stop, stop.” He didn’t sound angry but worried as his voice got louder until you finally registered what he´d asked of you.

Pure fire was rushing through your veins and through a thick cloud of pent up lust you tried to focus on his face. His beautiful features shone through the haze as you zeroed in on his pale grey eyes. Your chest heaving you looked at him bewildered.

“What is it?” you asked cautiously. “Little dove, you know I´d never say no to being inside you and absolutely rock your shit but…We both know…we´re not in the right headspace right now. We just lost two dear friends and we´re scared.” Your stomach dropped dangerously low and a little bit of shame overcame you quickly. Still laying on his chest you lay your head right above his heart while he stroked your back soothingly. “Just let me hold you for tonight, my love. Let me tell you how precious you are, how much you mean to me. Let my words lull you to sleep, where I want you to be at peace. Knowing that I´ll have your back always. That I´ll be here. And in the morning when you wake up, I´ll make sure my name is the only thing you´ll be able to mutter.” Nodding, sniffling but grinning into his Tshirt you got comfortable at his side again, your ear never leaving the steady rhythm of his heart.

As promised, he whispered sweet, sweet nothings into your ear until your body grew heavy.

You didn’t even make it until the first rays of sunshine before Sirius appeared above you with pure fire in his eyes. No words needed to be spoken, you knew that look way too intensely. And so he made good on his promise as he sank into your warm and wet heat and made you whimper and sigh his name as he nibbled on your neck. His hips moving sensually and powerfully. The feeling of slick skin on skin, his scent enveloping you and words of pure love being exchanged, the both of you moved in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to the sweet relief you needed.

“Cum for me, darling. Please, my perfect girl. Hggnn, I´m right there...with you” he whispered as his eyes bore into yours. As his hips sped up and his lips closed carefully around your nipple, you gripped him hard as the blinding, hot white feeling made you arch your back and cling to him for dear life. His name yelled into the darkness, he bit down on your neck hard and muffled his own grunts and sighs. Before long, Sirius was laying on top of you, breathing as heavily as you, kissing the spot he bit, licking it a little and just marvelling in the feeling of having you in this way.

“I´ll always love you, Sirius. With every fibre of my being, I am yours” you whispered. You heard his satisfied sigh as his canines scraped against the underside of your jaw. He lifted his head to look you in the eyes. Stroking your face gently he said “Wherever I am, whatever happens to me. Know that you are my saving grace. I am yours before anything.” He kissed you slowly. “I´ll be with you always.”

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I hope you all enjoyed this little fic, thank you for reading <3 As always I appreciate every like, reblog or comment. In order to get better in my writing though, I absolutely love getting comments or reblogs that let me know what you liked or disliked ;) Only this way I can make my writing better or more inclusive.

Thank you very much again and have a lovely day :)

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