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ultrone · 7 months

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seven minutes in heaven !

you join a 'spin the bottle' game at a party and get paired up with shauna ҂ smut & fluff; enemies to lovers, making out, dry humping, cum-filled strap-on use, choking. . .﹙5.1k wc﹚

the dim glow of fairy lights strung across lottie’s backyard cast a warm, golden hue over the party. the yellowjackets had won an important game the day before, and as usual, lottie’s parents were out of town, so there was no hesitation about throwing a party to celebrate the win.

you leaned against the wooden fence, holding a red plastic cup filled with something that tasted like a fruit punch spiked with some sort of liquor. you weren't exactly sure what was in it, but you were certain that more than half of the cup was pure alcohol.

your peace was interrupted by an all-too-familiar optimistic voice. "y/n! i've been looking for you," jackie said, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you away from your cozy corner.

"what are you doing?" you asked the blonde girl as she pulled you inside the house.

"we're playing a game," she said with excitement.

"don’t tell me it’s spin the bottle," you groaned as you saw people gathering around.

“come on, y/n, don't make that face,” jackie said, “maybe tonight's your lucky night,” she added with a wink, making you chuckle.

"alright, everyone! time to play!" she declared, ushering everyone into the living room. of course, she wasn’t going to play, being in a relationship with jeff. however, her nosy ass always wanted to be in charge of spinning the bottle—and potentially ruining people’s nights, you thought.

in no time, a group of people started sitting in a circle right in front of you. you noticed a bunch of yellow and blue bomber jacket owners gathering around. it was sort of a tradition that after every winning game, if there was a party, the yellowjackets would wear their bomber jackets all night to stand out. the owners of the bomber jackets in the circle were lottie, shauna, melisa, and surprisingly, laura lee. there were other people from school as well, including randy. hesitantly, you sat down between melisa and some random guy.

jackie took the bottle, giving it a vigorous spin. as the bottle spun and slowed down, its neck pointed straight at randy. then, after another spin, it landed on avery, one of the cutest seniors. a big smile lit up randy’s face, and you could practically feel his eagerness from a mile away. however, avery, with tousled hair and captivating, smoky eyes, shot randy a look of disgust. you could tell she wasn't too thrilled. unaware of the girl's reaction, randy stood up, all pumped and ready to head to the closet. you couldn't help but stifle a chuckle, and you noticed shauna letting out a relieved sigh.

"enjoy yourself," lottie teased, giving avery's shoulder a pat, to which she responded by rolling her eyes.

as they made their way to the downstairs closet, jackie spoke to the rest of the group. "okay, guys, brainstorm! what if we send two pairs at a time? it'll make things go quicker," she suggested, and everyone seemed to be on board.

“great!” she exclaimed before giving the bottle another spin. this time, though, it landed on you. jackie couldn't hide her excitement; she suppressed her smile and playfully wiggled her eyebrows up and down. “i wonder who the lucky winner will be,” she said before giving it another spin.

the bottle spun again, and you felt your heart sink as it stopped at shauna. you saw her face turn pale, and then red with annoyance. she glared at you as if you had somehow rigged the game.

jackie clapped her hands and squealed. “oh my god, this is perfect! the two most unlikely people to ever hook up.”

"this is gonna be interesting," lottie remarked with a smirk.

jackie seized both of your arms and whisked you towards the stairs. “come on, you two, don’t be shy! it’s just a game, have some fun!” she urged, but your attention was fixated on the irksome sound of laughter and cheering from the others.

you tried to resist, but jackie was too strong and excited. she pushed you and shauna into the upstairs closet and slammed the door behind you. you heard her shout, “seven minutes, starting now!” before her footsteps faded away.

you and shauna stood in the dark, facing each other. you could barely see her outline, but you could feel her hostility. you heard her snort and say, “this is ridiculous. i’m not going to waste my time with you.” she added, “just stay away from me and don’t touch me.”

you retorted, “fine by me. i don’t want anything to do with you either. you’re the last person i would ever kiss.”

she scoffed dismissively. "that's good then. it would be a waste anyway." her words carrying more weight than you anticipated.

shauna leaned against the wall, arms crossed. following suit, you leaned on the opposite side, feeling the bitter tension lingering in the air. you stood in silence for a moment, listening to the faint sounds of partying from below. you both felt uncomfortable, but neither was willing to break the silence.

then, she sighed. “you’re very annoying,” she muttered under her breath.

"you're not exactly a breeze yourself," you shot back. "not to mention stubborn as hell and fucking rude," you added, unable to restrain yourself.

her lips curled into an exasperated smile. "at least i don't act like i'm too good for everybody. you're the most stuck-up person i've ever met."

“well, at least i don't live under my best friend’s shadow. when we go downstairs, we should ask jackie for your daily dose of croquettes, you fucking lapdog.”

her eyes narrowed and she glared at you for a moment. “what was that?” she asked with a slight growl in her voice.

you stood your ground. “i said that you're a lapdog, bitch,” you enunciated each word with a sharp edge, your frustration boiling over.

shauna's eyes flashed with anger as she lunged forward, grabbing your shirt and forcefully pushing you against the drawer behind you. her hand moved up to your throat, putting just enough pressure to make it hard to breathe. attempting to pull away, you realized she was stronger than you anticipated. her face hovered inches from yours, her gaze intense, as if daring you to make a move.

before you knew it, you were gripping her wrist and pulling her tight against you. she tried to resist but you didn't let up. the closeness of her body, the heat of her breath, was making you light-headed. the smell of her perfume was intoxicating. your breath was short and hard as you stared into her eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you kissed her.

“don't look at me like that,” she breathed, her voice low and hoarse. you noticed that she was blushing ever so slightly.

"like what?" you whispered back, your breath tickling her skin, making her feel hot and flustered.

"like you want me," she mumbled quietly, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, her breath teasing your skin.

“who said i did?” you replied nonchalantly, trying to resist the urge to lean in and press your lips against her.

she leaned in slightly closer, her lips just a few centimetres from yours and whispered, “i know you want to.” a few seconds passed in uneasy silence as the tension built between the two of you, the heat from her hand on your neck making you weak.

"fuck it," you muttered under your breath, finally giving in and pressing your lips against hers.

her eyes fluttered shut as you made contact, responding to your kiss as if her life depended on it. she slid her hands to the sides of your face, her fingers threading through your hair and holding you against her. the kiss was bruising and intense as your hearts pounded against each other. your hands found their way to the small of her back, drawing her nearer as you lightly nibbled on her lower lip. it felt like an eternity before you pulled away, both of your breaths laboured, foreheads resting against each other.

“i fucking hate you,” you whispered, peering into her eyes, her grip on your face still firm.

“i hate you more,” she murmured back, almost petulantly, before pulling you into another passionate kiss.

as your lips melded together, she smoothly moved her hands down to your waist, skillfully guiding you to perch on top of the drawer. almost instinctively, you parted your legs, coaxing her to stand right between them. her hands travelled up to your upper thighs, gripping them firmly as her lips trailed a path along your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses all the way to the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

every fibre of your being screamed to touch her, to feel her everywhere. in a desperate attempt to do so, your fingers instinctively traced the outline of her jeans' waistband, gripping it and pulling her closer while wrapping your legs around her. a soft moan escaped your lips as you felt a bulge pressing against your center.

sensing your arousal, she seized one of your wrists, guiding it to her bulge, placing your hand directly over it and giving a good squeeze. "you like that?" she husked, a smirk playing at her lips. you could only respond with a breathless sigh.

encouraged by your reaction, she returned her hands to your upper thighs, holding them even more firmly as she pulled you against her bulge with deliberate, slow motions against your clothed center.

“mmh-” you moaned as you slid your hands under her shirt, fingers digging into her toned abdomen, leaving marks as you held on tight.

her lips captured yours once again, in a slower but equally intense kiss as before. the rhythm of her hips matched the pace of the kiss, her movements deliberate yet forceful against you. as your left fingertips continued to graze her abdomen, your right hand began to tease her chest, slipping beneath her bra. a soft groan escaped her lips at the contact, sending vibrations against your mouth.

growing a little desperate, she paused for a moment, eliciting a groan from you. sliding her hands to your waistline, she started unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans. equally eager, you assisted her by shedding your jeans and letting them cascade to the floor. at the same time, she undid her own jeans, allowing them to pool around her ankles, revealing her standing in nothing but dark red boxers, a strap peeking out.

drawing closer again, she didn't immediately resume her previous movements. instead, she lowered her face and gently rested her left temple against your cheek, her gaze fixated on the silhouette of your lower body.

her hands found a resting place on your thighs, softly caressing the spots where she had left gripping red marks just moments ago. each warm breath against the side of your neck intensified the pulsating sensation at your center. slowly, her hands traveled upward, reaching the hem of your panties, fingers slipping beneath. her index finger played with the fabric, pulling and letting it slap against your skin. the sound echoed slightly denser than cotton, catching her attention. as her fingers lingered against your pelvis, she slowly traced her thumb across the warmth and moisture of your clothed center.

“fuck, you’re so wet…” she whispered against your skin, her eyebrows furrowing, almost whimpering at the thought of being responsible of turning you on like this.

unconsciously, your hips began to move, your center yearning for more than just a lingering touch, but she held back. in your desperation, you pressed her against you with your legs, a sudden move that prompted her to place her hand on the wall for balance. she chuckled at your desperation, and you moaned at the contact of her hard length flush against your wetness.

"okay, okay," she said with a smirk, yielding to your silent pleas as she planted a small kiss on your cheek.

her fingers deftly slid to the hem of your panties, pulling them down and letting them join your discarded jeans. following suit, she lowered her boxers, allowing them to fall gracefully to her ankles.

her body drew closer to yours once more, but this time, one of her hands held her cock, while the other rested on your hip, unconsciously caressing your skin with her thumb. you felt yourself melting into another kiss, her mouth was warm, but her tongue was even hotter, exploring every inch of your mouth.

your breath hitched as you felt the tip of her strap tracing circles around your clit, and a loud groan escaped you as she rubbed her length against your wet folds, maintaining its stiffness with her grip.

“just put it in already,” you pleaded, the sensations in your core becoming too overwhelming to bear.

shauna's lips curled into a sly smile as she met your gaze. "good things come to those who wait," she quipped as her mouth found its way back to yours once again.

“whatever, shakespeare,” you breathed out as she continued to tease you, her length slipping against you due to your wetness.

“that was actually violet fane, a british au—”

“yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up,” you groaned, annoyed at the teasing. you couldn't take it anymore, you slapped her hand away, taking her girth in your hand, surprising her and causing her to lose her balance once more. pulling her closer by it, you aligned her tip with your entrance. she smirked, finding your sudden dominance hot, and she didn't stop you as you used your legs to push her against you, feeling her cock slowly entering and stretching your walls.

your head fell back as she bottomed out inside you, her strap-on so large that you could feel it pressing against your cervix. you slid your hands to her shoulders, gripping her tightly, and she hugged you by the waist, so close that you could feel each other's heartbeats. shauna's fingers wrapped around your hair, gently tugging your face to the side and exposing your soft neck to her mouth. she traced her lips down your neck, her tongue exploring your skin with each kiss. her breaths brushed along your skin as she nibbled at your earlobe and planted teasing little bites along your jawline. with her other hand firmly on your hip, she slowly shifted her hips back and then bottomed out again, falling into a steady rhythm. a soft groan escaped her lips as she felt the strap's rigid back massaging her throbbing clit.

your eyebrows furrowed, and soft moans escaped your lips, lost in the intoxication of her kisses and the steady friction of her length against your tight walls. your hands tightened their grip around her toned shoulders.

shauna lifted her face from your slightly swollen and moist neck, peering into your half-lidded eyes. “you okay?” she asked with tenderness, her voice low and raspy, her fingers gently caressing the side of your head.

"look at you, who would've thought that all you needed to become a softie was to get laid,” you teased, meeting her gaze and sliding your hands from her shoulders to around her neck, biting down a smile.

she breathed out a chuckle, rolling her eyes. “i’m not a softie, i was just being nice,” she grunted while slowing down her movements.

“i know, i’m just fucking with you,” you said, “i’m okay,” you added, giving her a soft smile to let her know you appreciated her concern.

just as she was resuming her rhythm, you both were interrupted by a glimpse of movement through the slight slit of the closet door. someone was walking past. a moment of frozen silence passed as you both tried to remain still. the person's footsteps faded as they continued down the stairs. you breathed out softly and relaxed, exchanging a glance with shauna.

“shit, that was close,” she whispered, exhaling sharply and slowly letting go of your hair, her other hand still resting gently on your hip.

"yeah, too close," you murmured quietly. “let's just stay silent,” you suggested.

“good luck with that,” she replied cheekily before giving you a quick kiss on the lips. she moved both hands down to the middle of your thighs, opening your legs wide and holding them in that position with her palms.

with her thick cock still inside you, but unmoving, she teasingly slid one of her hands towards your center and started to slowly toy with and pinch your swollen clit with her thumb.

“oh, fu—” you began, but she quickly hushed you with her lips, giving you a deep, bruising tongue kiss.

her calloused thumb continued drawing incessant circles around your throbbing nub. by the time your legs started twitching, indicating your urge to close them together, she swiftly returned her hand to its original position on your thigh, keeping them wide open, and began thrusting into you with harsh movements.

despite the tightness of your walls, her cock slid smoothly in and out, coated with your abundant wetness. her hot center pulsed with each firm thrust, pressing against her clitoris. she penetrated you so deeply that you could almost see your belly skin pushing from the outside. each time her tip pushed onto your sensitive spot, your eyes rolled back, and both your moans were muffled by her tongue, which melted against yours.

your arms were wrapped so tightly around her neck that you were almost choking her, your lungs desperate for air but unwilling to let go of her. she momentarily let go of your legs, lifting the white shirt under her flannel and tucking half of it behind her head to keep it out of the way. resuming her rapid thrusts, you could now feel the toned skin of her lower abdomen slapping against your clitoris with each motion.

“enjoying yourself?” she asked breathlessly with a half-smile, her mouth finding its way back to yours once more.

you could only manage a muffled response, unable to form words. you placed your hands under her bra and began to play with her nipples, squeezing her breasts as you pinched them between your fingers.

“mmh– that feels good,” she husked out, prompting you to pinch her nipples even harder. her movements started to get sloppy, but it felt so good that she was trying her hardest not to cum yet. she removed her hands from your thighs, instead, holding you closer by resting one hand against the top of the drawer next to your thigh, and the other one pushing you closer by wrapping it around your lower back.

you tried to help her by matching her rhythm, moving your hips against hers. sliding your hands to her back, you held her by the shoulder blades for stability. once you had a good grip, you increased your pace against her.

nuzzling her face against the crook of your neck, she maintained her relentless pace. the room echoed with the sounds of her grunts and the slapping of skin as she pounded as hard as she could. it didn't take long before both of you reached climax. with one final, deep thrust, you felt her faux white cum filling you up, and you both rode out your orgasms together. she softly collapsed on top of you, her weight keeping you pressed against the drawer.

loosening your strong hold on her shoulders, you now held her gently as both of you caught your breath.

after a few moments of silence, she gently disengaged from the embrace and stood upright. "we should probably get back now…" she said, her voice still a little hoarse from all the grunting.

“right,” you replied softly. with that, you slowly got up, stretching out the discomfort in your hips and back. you both dressed in silence and once you were both finished, shauna opened the closet door, motioning for you to go out first.

“looks like chivalry isn’t dead,” you joked awkwardly, making her smile.

the both of you made your way downstairs, and she couldn’t help but notice the way you walked, slowly and a little clumsily, causing her to chuckle. upon reaching the bottom, a round of applause greeted you, courtesy of lottie, van, and nat, who were comfortably seated on the couches directly in front of you.

“and now,” van declared, her red cup serving as an improvised megaphone, “i present to everyone the official champions of seven minutes in heaven!” she glanced at lottie, who was busy checking her watch. “breaking the previous record of…” van paused dramatically.

“forty-five minutes and thirty-eight seconds,” lottie declared, raising her eyebrows in genuine surprise.

you rolled your eyes at them, trying to hold back the smile tugging at your lips. “like you didn’t sit in that circle just to get into laura lee’s celibate ass pants,” you retorted to lottie.

“fine,” lottie admitted with a grin, “but let’s not forget who willingly spent over half an hour in the closet with their mortal nemesis,” she defended herself.

van, still using her red cup as a makeshift megaphone, leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "so, shauna, was it everything you dreamed of, or should we recommend a more skilled partner next time?"

shauna narrowed her eyes slightly at van's playful snark. in the past, she would’ve likely scoffed and rolled her eyes in response, but now, there was a hint of amusement lurking behind them.

"she was okay," she replied nonchanlantly, a smirk on her face as she shot a teasing glance at you. "she's not so bad when she keeps her mouth shut," she joked, making everyone laugh in surprise.

“okay,” you interjected, feeling a bit sheepish with a blush on your face, “i’m heading to the kitchen for some water,” you announced before striding away.

you heard van's voice crackle on with her red cup, "we want all the details later!" she shouted, causing the whole group to burst into laughter, making you grin with embarrassment.

as you made your way towards the kitchen, the party noise faded into the background. you grabbed a glass of water, and while you took a much-needed sip, you heard footsteps approaching.

shauna joined you by the sink, grabbing a glass of water and taking a sip before turning to look at you. her eyes met yours and lingered for a moment before she spoke.

"so," she began as she leaned against the counter, “jeff’s taking jackie home tonight. do you need a lift home?” she asked, her big eyes staring at you attentively.

“oh, don’t worry about it,” you stammered nervously, “i can just tag along with lottie or tai.”

“i don’t mind, really,” she insisted, her dark eyes lingering on your lips before meeting your gaze again. you felt your heart pounding in your chest. the way she was looking at you was making it hard to think straight, and your body was getting all warm and tingly.

“well–“ you began, but before you knew it, she approached you and gently took hold of your chin. drawing you closer, her lips met yours. they were tender yet firm, and your breath was steady as you whispered, “i wouldn’t mind either.”

you allowed her to lead the kiss, her tongue making deliberate moves between your lips. her hands cradled the back of your head, fingers entwining in your hair as she drew her body closer to yours.

a soft whimper escaped you, arms wrapping around her waist. the heat inside you intensified as your bodies pressed together. her tongue explored your mouth, breath growing heavy as she tugged at the hem of your shirt. shauna lifted her leg slightly, wrapping her thigh around yours to pull you even closer. urgency filled her movements, her pulse quickening, and her breath became shallow. suddenly, she pulled away, looking up. “maybe we should go,” she whispered, her breath catching momentarily as her heart thumped against her chest.

“yeah, we should,” you mumbled, still dazed by the intensity of the kiss. your brain was foggy, struggling to process what had just happened.

exiting the party, the two of you strolled towards the car. shauna opened the front seat’s door and motioned for you to get in. you took a quick glance at the other guests, but luckily, none of your friends seemed to be paying attention to you two. you climbed into the passenger seat, and shauna closed the door behind you.

it was quiet inside the car, only shauna’s soft music played. she glanced your way from time to time, a teasing glint in her big eyes. you couldn’t help but notice her gaze, and a smile crept across your face as your heart beat faster. each exchange seemed to thicken the air, causing your cheeks to burn.

approaching your destination, shauna slowed down. the road became dark outside the car, the streetlights casting a dim glow over the pavement, which turned into the driveway. she brought the car to a halt and turned to face you. you sat there, waiting for her to say something, but neither one of you spoke. her big dark eyes were fixed on yours, her expression soft and curious.

"um, so…" you mumbled, looking down for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “thanks for the ride,” you said.

"yeah, anytime," she replied softly, her eyes lingering on yours a moment longer before refocusing on the road ahead. taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat, adjusting her grip on the wheel as you reached for the door handle.

"wait," shauna intervened before you could open the door. gently grabbing your arm, she turned you towards her. warm eyes locked onto yours, and her breath seemed to catch as she sought the right words. you couldn't help but notice the soft, delicate features of her face and the way her eyes seemed to glimmer with affection. "i was wondering…" she began, her voice soft and unsure. the tension in the air heightened as her words hung there. "can i call you sometime?" her voice was barely a whisper, and her gaze seemed shy.

"i- yeah, of course," you replied softly, feeling your heart skip a beat as you gave her a soft smile. you had never imagined this kind of interaction with her, but now that it was happening, it felt right.

"how about this weekend?" she asked with a hopeful smile.

"yeah, i'd like that," you responded, giving her a gentle nod. shauna's face lit up, and she gently squeezed your hand before unlocking the car doors.

exiting the car, you bid shauna goodnight and made your way into your house, the sound of her car fading as you closed the front door behind you. racing upstairs, you burst into your room and leaped onto your bed, burying your face in the pillow.

you lay there for a few minutes with our heart was racing, feeling butterflies fluttering all over as you replayed the night’s events in your head.

finally, you rolled over onto your back, allowing yourself a moment to catch your breath. however, your peace was soon interrupted by a tapping sound at your window.

you sat up immediately, surprised by the sudden noise. you cautiously walked toward it to check what it was.

as you got closer to the window, you could see shauna, leaning against the fence below it, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket. you noticed that her face was upturned to your direction, eyes fixed on you, her breath fogging the glass.

without thinking twice, you scrambled to open the window. "what are you doing here?" you asked, meeting her eyes.

for a moment, she didn't respond, her cheeks flushed and her breathing steadying. yet, her gaze remained focused on you, and her mouth had curled into a small smile. "i wanted to see you one more time before the night is over," she answered, her voice soft. "mind if i come up?" she added.

you replied instantly, "yeah, sure, come on up."

as she climbed the exterior walls of your house, you took a deep breath and opened the window wide enough for her to enter. upon reaching the window frame, she met your gaze, your faces inches apart.

"you could have just knocked on the front door, you know?" you teased, biting down a smile.

shauna shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. "can't a girl be romantic anymore?" she quipped with a smirk.

"oh, is that what this is?" you mocked, giving her a teasing look. "you breaking into my window in the middle of the night? romantic would’ve been knocking on the front door with flowers."

"i don't know, climbing up the building, clinging to a fence, and sneaking into your window seemed pretty romantic to me," shauna replied with a smirk, her hands gripping the window edges.

"shauna, i live in a one-story house," you chuckled softly.

"well, my point still stands," she playfully retorted, rolling her eyes at you. "and your windows are abnormally high, my arms are aching," she added.

“oh, sorry,” you said, stepping aside for her to enter.

"it’s fine," she replied, stepping inside. however, her footing slipped, and she tumbled onto you, sending both of you into laughter as you landed on the floor.

you sensed her warm breath near your neck, her hair gently brushing against your face. your bodies were close, and her arms wrapped around your waist. you couldn't help but notice how close she was, and how good she felt against you. her deep eyes looked up at you, her lips forming a slight smile. gazing back at her, you timidly slid your hand across the floor until it found hers, intertwining your fingers. she locked her hands with yours, and both of you held the gaze for what seemed like an eternity.

"can i kiss you?" she whispered, her eyes searching yours for the answer.

your heart raced, and your blood rushed through your veins.

"yes," you replied softly, and she leaned in, placing her hands on your cheeks as her lips met yours.

your lips parted as she kissed you softly, her lips tender and soft. it was nothing like the fierce way she had kissed you at the party. her tongue explored your mouth with deft and practiced movements, and as you pulled her closer, she leaned into you, holding you tightly.

as you pulled away, your lips were aching to feel her again. “stay the night?” you asked her.

her soft, dark eyes locked onto yours, her breath quickened and her cheeks flushed slightly. you held each other's gaze until she finally spoke.

"i’d love that."

#𓏲 📂 ⋮ my works .ᐟ #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x you #shauna shipman x y/n #shauna shipman oneshot #shauna shipman fanfic #shauna shipman smut #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x y/n #yellowjackets oneshot #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets smut

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vinnellamadz · 7 months

Note

Enemies to lovers Adam x f!reader?

Enemies to Lovers

Adam X Reader

A/N: I shed blood, sweat and tears making this. SORRY IF ITS OOC this is my first real fic Adam is a PAIN to write.

You were never really able to get along with Adam. From the moment Adam arrived in heaven, the two of you were always at each other's throats.

Adam would always pick fights over the smallest things, and it was always enough to make you bite back. There wasn't a single day that he couldn't get under your skin and make fun of you. Calling you names, competing with you, and just being a general pain in your ass.

Today was the day of the first-second extermination of the year.

Adam was off giving his soldiers a 'pep talk', but before he flew off to this hazbin hotel, he came to you first.

As always, he made sure to get his daily insults in before he left, tearing into you with his words, ensuring you knew just how inferior and pathetic he deemed you. His snarky and playful tone only served to aggravate you further. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you snapped back, 'Oh, shut up! I hope you never return, Adam!' His initial shock quickly gave way to a smug grin. 'Calm your pretty little head, babe,' he retorted, his arrogance undeterred as he continued to prattle on about himself."

You weren't even listening; His annoying voice was easy to block out.

“plus I know you’ll miss me, I fuckin’ rock, I’m THE Adam” he pointed to himself keeping that stupid shit eating smile he always had, god you wanted to punch him so bad but couldn't, as you feared you would get sent to hell so you slammed the door in his face instead.

Later that night, you were sitting on your heavenly comfy couch, enjoying the latest episodes of your favorite shows. You were just about to fall asleep when a frantic knock jolted you from the cushions. With a tinge of fear, you approached the door, thinking, 'This is heaven; this couldn’t be bad, right?' As you opened the door and peeked out, you were shocked to see Adam, but he was far from his usual self. Covered in golden blood and bearing multiple stab wounds, he looked as though he had been through hell. (Lol) Without hesitation, you flung the door open, calling out, 'Adam!' before he collapsed on your doorstep.

It had been a while since you found Adam. Earlier, you had managed to drag him to your couch. As you attempted to patch him up, you discovered several more wounds scattered across his body. Shocked by the extent of his injuries, you couldn't help but wonder who could have inflicted such damage.

hours have passed since the surprise at your doorstep. You had fallen asleep on the floor beside him. When you woke up, he had yet to awaken, Panic gripped your heart as you reached out to shake him gently, wondering if he had actually died in his sleep. (double dead) You placed your finger beneath his nose, relieved to feel the subtle rise and fall of his breath. 'Why do I even care so much...' you pondered, a mix of emotions swirling within you.

More hours had passed, and as you were making lunch for yourself, you heard him make a sound. Turning around, you saw that he had finally woken up. “What the fuck am I doing here?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. “You came to me, Adam. You're hurt.” Upon hearing your words, he winced and attempted to sit up, but a wave of pain washed over him, causing him to groan. Reacting quickly, you rushed to his side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to ease him back down. 'Lay down, Adam,' you said softly, concern evident in your voice. “You're going to make it worse if you push yourself too hard.” Adam groaned with displeasure as you stood up and started walking back to the kitchen. However, something he said made you stop in your tracks.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” You froze in surprise. 'What?' Slowly, you turned to him, a shocked expression on your face. “Excuse me? How hard did you hit your head?”

You stood there in silence as he just stared at you “… I’m just fucking with you… dumb b-bitch…” he looked away in embarrassment, you stared at him with a shocked look ‘doesn’t sound like was a joke..’

“I can do it myself!” He argued.

"If you move, you'll probably explode or die. Stop it!" You were trying your best to care for him these past few days, but he's just such a pain in the ass. Currently, you were trying to feed him, but he kept turning his head away, stubborn as ever. Fed up with his behavior and the frustration boiling inside you, you finally snapped. With determination, you grabbed hold of his head, locking eyes with him. "Just eat it, damn it!" you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice as you forcefully shoved the spoon into his mouth. Finally, he relented and ate it, although begrudgingly.

“I’d rather you shove your-“

“Shut the fuck up”

“Moody Bitch…”

You scoffed at his remarks, striding over to him and motioning for him to sit up, to which he obliges. "Take your shirt off," you instruct. He smirks in response. "Don't give me that look; you know what I mean." His smirk fades into annoyance as he complies with your request. Gently removing his bandages required getting close, and you carefully unwrap them before swiftly replacing them with fresh ones, wrapping them around his body with precision and care.

"You look really pretty down there" he grins at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration. You blush in response, feeling a warm flush creeping up your cheeks, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected compliment.

Wanna know a secret?" He said, catching your attention. You looked at him with a confused expression, but slowly nodded, curiosity piqued.

"you know I live alone right now? No one's going to—" Your words were cut off as you felt his hand grasp your face, Before you could react, his lips met yours in a sudden, electrifying kiss, sending a rush of warmth through your body.

Adam pulled away, leaving you stunned and bewildered by the sudden rush of conflicting emotions.

"You make it so damn difficult to hate you," he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of something deeper, something you couldn't quite decipher. As you stood there, grappling with the unexpected confession, you realized that perhaps there was more to your relationship than just rivalry. With a mixture of uncertainty and expanding hope, you met his gaze, silently acknowledging the unspoken possibility of a new beginning between two former enemies turned potential lovers.

This was so hard goodbye. It’s so OOC I’m soo sorry I tried to rush the end to put this out faster 😭

#adam x reader #adam x reader hazbin #hazbin #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #helluva boss #hazbin adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader hazbin hotel

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kikyoupdates · 27 days

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Infatuated ⭑˚💌⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

yandere!bnha x reader

yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?

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“Alright, keep marching straight ahead! The Bakugou Adventure Team is nearing its destination!”

Leading the charge is none other than Katsuki, the most fearless and headstrong kid in the neighborhood. He's never shy about saying whatever what's on his mind, and that, coupled with his natural take-charge attitude, makes countless other kids gravitate towards him.

One of those kids, of course, is you.

It hasn't been long since you’ve moved into the neighborhood, but Katsuki has such a strong presence that you found out about him and his crew almost immediately. They get up to all sorts of fun stuff, and being new to this part of the city, you have to admit that it feels nice to have made friends so quickly.

At first, Katsuki was a bit resistant to you joining his circle. He insisted that there was a strict no girl policy, but it didn't take very long for him to give in. Since then, you’ve gotten into the habit of hanging out with him and the rest of his friends pretty much constantly.

Right now, you are all trudging through the forest, on a very important quest to retrieve a powerful weapon.

“It’s close,” Katsuki says, grinning ear-to-ear. “I can feel that the sword is hidden somewhere nearby. But we have to be careful! There are probably enemies waiting to ambush us. I hope you’re all ready to put up a fight.”

Katsuki’s closest friend, and also his most devoted follower, is a freckled boy named Izuku, who nods vigorously in agreement.

“W-We’re ready!” Izuku insists, voice trembling a bit. “We’ve got Kacchan on our side, after all. There’s no way we can lose. You think so too... right, [Name]?”

Now it's your turn to respond with a vigorous nod.

“If anyone dares to mess with us, we’ll kick all their butts!” you proudly exclaim, punching your little fist in the air.

“That’s right,” Katsuki beams back. “Don’t do anything crazy, though. You’re not as strong as I am, so if it comes down to it, I’ll protect you.”

You can't help but blush. “Alright. Thank you, Katsuki.”

Onwards you march, clearing more and more of the forest. Most four-year-olds probably wouldn’t feel so comfortable in such a place, but Katsuki has made it clear that nothing scares him. Even mysterious areas hidden by countless trees and bushes hardly even faze him.

True to his word, Katsuki eventually lets out a gasp. “There it is!” he cries out, pointing towards the ground ahead. “The sword is right there!”

Since you are only children, your imaginations play a big role in making this quest seem a lot more grandiose than it actually is. In truth, the “sword” is really just a massive stick, but being out here without any parental supervision has already gotten to your heads and makes you all feel as though you are brave, valiant adventurers. Thus, you have no qualms whatsoever about pretending that the stick is the most impressive sword you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Enemies!” you exclaim, referring of course to the little birds that are pecking at the ground, right next to where the stick is. “They’re trying to keep us from getting our hands on the sword!”

Katsuki balls up his fists. “Well, they can try all they want, but they won’t stop us. Bakugou Adventure Team, it’s time! Fall into the attack formation we planned out before! Come on, let’s get them!”

There are five of you in total, and upon Katsuki’s signal, you all sprint straight at the birds while making battle cries, causing them to scatter. It only takes a few seconds to clear the area, and once Katsuki has ascertained that they're all gone, he picks up the stick and lifts it above his head with a victorious grin.

“Heh,” he chuckles. “That was easy as pie. They never stood a chance. Good job, team. Well, I obviously fought off the most enemies, but still.”

“Katsuki, you’re so cool,” you gush. “Thanks to you, we’re the strongest adventure team ever!”

His smirk seems impossible to contain. “Duh! You guys won’t ever need to worry about anything so long as I’m around. If anyone ever tries to mess with you, just let me know, and I’ll set ‘em straight.”

“Kacchan really is awesome,” Izuku can't help but marvel. His green eyes are glossy and wide, full of admiration. Well, pretty much everyone looks up to Katsuki, so you definitely understand where he's coming from.

Feeling emboldened by your victory against those vicious enemies, you walk over to Katsuki, then promptly kiss him on the cheek

“Thank you for protecting all of us,” you say shyly.

What follows is that Katsuki’s cheeks break out into the most violent shade of crimson you’ve ever seen. It even gives his deep red eyes a run for their money.

He jolts back almost immediately, letting out a strangled little yelp.

“W-What was that for?!” he stammers.

“For protecting us,” you say again, suddenly feeling quite embarrassed. “Um... I’m sorry. I just really wanted to thank you for being such an awesome leader. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Are you mad now...?”

Katsuki gulps. “I-I’m not mad. You just surprised me, jeez.”

Two of the other neighborhood kids are already oohing and awing, going on about how Katsuki had cooties now. Of course, he's quick to shut them up, but that doesn't make his blush disappear any faster. Izuku is the quietest of the bunch, mostly because he appears to be incredibly embarrassed based on what he just witnessed. He's even covering his eyes with his hands, peering out from between his fingers.

Your face feels quite hot after what you’ve just done, but as it just so happens, your embarrassment doesn't last.

Because something else catches your attention.

[𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫! 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝.]

[𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢?]

You furrow your brows. “Hey, guys,” you say. “What’s this weird stuff that just popped up all of a sudden?”

You are met with nothing but looks of confusion.

“Um... what are you talking about?” Izuku frowns. “I don’t see anything.”

“Right there,” you insist, pointing to the screen in front of you. “There’s this screen with all kinds of writing on it.”

Everyone shakes their heads, which makes you feel incredibly self-conscious about the whole thing. Are you really just imagining it? Katsuki likes to tease you at times, but Izuku isn't the type to play pranks on others, so if even he is saying he can't see the screen, then they're probably telling the truth.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” you mumble, casting your head downwards. “I swear I can actually see it... I’m not crazy.”

Katsuki stares at you for a few moments longer, eventually letting out a chuckle. “Oh! I get it. The screen you’re seeing must be some sort of alert for our new quest. So, go ahead, [Name]. Tell us what our next quest is.”

He thinks I’m still playing around.

While it's incredibly frustrating that no one believes you, there is still another thing you can try.

[𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢?]

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

Nothing really happens once you make your selection, and you're starting to think that maybe you really are going crazy.

But within a few moments, Katsuki suddenly collapses to the ground.

“Ugh,” he groans, clutching his head. “What’s going on...? I feel dizzy all of a sudden...”

Panicked, you drop to your knees beside him. “Katsuki!” you cry out worriedly. “Are you okay? Does something hurt?”

His gaze is glassy and unfocused, and his cheeks are only getting redder by the second. It looks like he’s just started burning up with a violent fever. When you wrap your arm around his back to try and help him rise to his feet, he flinches, as if your touch is electric.

“I-I’m fine,” he says, but he doesn't sound all that convincing. Then again, Katsuki is the type to never want help from anyone. He's always determined to shoulder everything on his own, because of how strong he is.

Under normal circumstances, he probably would’ve gotten quite annoyed that you were offering to help him, but he doesn't seem entirely like himself right now.

Guilt sets in when you realized you are probably to blame for it.

Is it because I used that charm ability on him? Is that why he’s not feeling well all of a sudden?

You can't fully explain it, because you still don't even understand what that weird screen you’ve seen is supposed to be, but you doubt it's mere coincidence.

Katsuki eventually shakes you off and collects his bearings, although he still looks rather unstable on his feet. You hope that whatever this is, it'll pass soon.

Izuku leans closer to you and whispers in your ear. “Is Kacchan going to be alright? He’s not looking too good...”

You part your lips to respond, but don't quite have the chance to form the words in time.

Katsuki has already shoved Izuku onto the ground.

“Get away from her,” he grits out, and something about the look in his crimson eyes deeply unsettles you.

Small tears rise to Izuku’s eyes, and he just barely manages to wipe them away before they spill over. “I-I’m sorry,” he splutters, even though he can't seem to understand what he did wrong.

Katsuki’s lips split into a grimace. He looks incredibly angry. He’s always had quite a bit of a temper, but you can't recall him ever being this upset. Completely out of nowhere, too. It doesn't make any sense.

“Don’t get so close to [Name],” Katsuki hisses. He takes a few steps forward, clenching his fist as if he's ready to outright punch the freckled boy, but he doesn't make it very far before swaying unsteadily and falling over a second time.

This time, he's out cold.

“Oh my god! Katsuki just fainted!”

Panic ensues. You are only a bunch of preschoolers, and none of you know what you're supposed to do in a situation like this. You all desperately try to shake Katsuki awake, even lightly slap his face a few times to try and jolt him back to his senses, but nothing works.

You end up having to carry him back to his parents, who promptly tuck him into bed and promise that they'll keep an eye on his condition.

Izuku sniffles, unable to mask his concern. “I-I’ve never seen something like that happen to Kacchan before. I really hope he’s going to be okay.”

You don't say anything. You can't. After all, you have a sneaking suspicion that the only reason this happened is because of the choice you made.

It's strange, though. Even though you can't exactly understand how you caused Katsuki to faint, you assume that ability of yours had something to do with it. But then why did he get angry at Izuku all of a sudden? That part just doesn't make any sense.

You don't know it yet, but your Quirk has just manifested for the first time, and while most kids are thrilled to obtain their powers, yours will end up causing more harm than good.

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hellodarling1357 · 8 months

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Flames and Embers - Cassian x Vanserra!Reader (slow burn)

Summary: As Beron's sixth child, and only daughter, you had spent your whole life being overlooked and under utilitised. It wasn't until Amarantha's reign that your talents were truly recognised for what they were - too bad you were forced to make a bargain to keep them secret

A/N: Hi! This started out as a request I received the other week but then turned into something completely different and so far from the original request that it’s now getting it’s own multi-part story

This will eventually become a Cassian x Reader fic with a bit of angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, and all the other fun tropes we know and love!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 3k

Being the only daughter of the Autumn Court’s High Lord, alongside having seven brothers to compete with, you had been overlooked for most of your life which was just fine by you.

You had used the cover of being just a female in an archaic court to your advantage and took the time to observe and learn whatever you could. After being forced to witness how your brothers treated Lucien, you had always tried to have his back, which only went so far when any show of defiance from you was met with a beating. When Lucien had been forced out of your home, you had been heartbroken it had come to it but also happy that your youngest brother could finally become his own person and escape the cruelty that had followed him around his whole life.

Eris had always tried to keep an eye on you. He wouldn’t give up the façade in front of the others, however, he would find the time whenever he could to take you out riding into a long-forgotten part of the woods where he would teach you how to fight. The day you landed him on his ass had been one of his proudest moments, but that didn’t stop him from upping the pressure, forcing you to become stronger and more tactful in each step. Knowing that you could easily take on the rest of your brothers is what kept you from lashing out at their comments and actions towards you; with Lucien gone, you had become their next punching bag to which your father turned a blind eye.

Then Amarantha showed up and everything was turned on its head.

It was in no way a pleasant 50 years, however, you managed to stay out of harm’s way, no doubt at the hands of Eris' doing, and managed to avoid most of the horrors that occurred. However, once the human girl, Feyre, had arrived, you made yourself more present in the ongoings of Amarantha’s court, unable to leave the girl fully alone and fending for herself. Your need to help her was further spurred on upon realising that Lucien appeared to be her friend.

Lucien. The thought that your brother, the one who had managed to escape the past 50 years of torment, was now here as well had you feeling as though you had somehow let him down, even though it was completely out of your control. You hadn’t been present the first time Tamlin had sent Lucien to seek out Amarantha, the time when she had so viciously carved out his eye that even some of your brothers seemed somewhat affronted. However, you were there now. You had watched on in horror as Lucien defended Feyre, and then the 20 lashes Tamlin was forced to give after he helped with the first task…

Once Lucien had been allowed to retreat to his room, you had spent the next hour finding out as much as you could about Amarantha's plans for Feyre and your brother. With healing supplies in hand, you ventured into the sprawling court to where you had been told Lucien resided. With a quiet knock on his door, you entered the room and felt your heart break at the shaken, broken form of your brother. Despite the clear pain he was in, he had leapt off the bed at the sight of you and was quick to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N,” He had exclaimed, carefully surveying you for any signs of injury. “Are you alright? What’s happened? Cauldron, I’ve missed you.” Then he was pulling you into another hug that left you in tears.

When was the last time you had seen him? It had been decades.

“I’m fine,” You brushed him off and made him sit so you could assess his injuries. “You look like you’ve seen better days.” He made a non-committal sound in response, taking in a deep breath at the sting of the healing balm you helped spread across his back. You pushed onto your heels, assessing the damage and your makeshift attempt of bandaging the wounds.

“What can I do?” You asked, feeling just as helpless as you did when growing up.

“Check in on Feyre. Please. I can’t…I can’t do anything, not now. And whatever game Tamlin is playing, he won’t go see her. Please. She’s all alone.” You hesitated for a moment but found yourself nodding.

“Of course. Of course I’ll go and see her.” You lowered your voice, not trusting that anywhere in this place was truly safe. “Does she truly love him?” If she did, then you all had a chance of getting out.

“She does.” Lucien answered, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Anything else, let me know, alright? I’ll go and check on her.” You gave your brother a final hug and then slipped from the room, making your way towards the dungeons.

*****

“Feyre?” You whispered into the darkness, the guards were in the middle of their rotation, so you had few valuable minutes to slip in and out undetected, the limited healing supplies and food you managed to take with you were clutched tightly into the folds of your dress.

An incoherent groan sounded from further down the dark, cage-lined corridor. You hurried over, halting in your steps when you saw her sitting against the wall still covered in blood and mud, a pained expression on her weary face.

“Feyre? I’m Y/N. I’m Lucien’s sister, he asked me to check on you, see how you were holding up.” You tried to stay optimistic but the wound on her arms was nothing that you could fix. Maybe before Amarantha stifled everyone’s magic you would stand a chance, but not now when all you could offer were some clean rags, a bit of water and a scrap of bread.

You knelt on the floor in front of her cell, unable to get in without your magic or access to the key.

“I know it hurts, but are you able to move a bit closer, I can’t help you from here.” You cringed as you watched Feyre grit her teeth, slowly moving across the floor, pain evident on her face.

“Y/N?” She asked in a strained voice, you nodded with a small smile, passing her the bread which she quickly bit into. “Lucien told me about you. Said that you were here.”

“I don’t have long, here, give me your arm I’ll do my best to clean it but there’s not much else I can do. At least not right now.” You wiped away the blood and muck that lingered from the first task, trying not to grimace as you took in the severity of the wound. The sound of movement spurred you on, quickly ushering her to drink the water and finish the bread so you could leave before getting caught.

“I’ll try to get back here soon, okay?” Feyre was already making her way back towards the rear wall where she slumped against it. You were almost out when a small voice called out.

“Y/N? Thank you.”

*****

Managing to obtain some of the healing balm that you had used on Lucien's injuries, you kept to the shadows as you made your way back down to the dungeons.

You had been keeping an ear out for what Amarantha’s plans were for the girl; if she planned on healing her before the next task or leaving her in the dark cell to fend for herself. Either way, you couldn’t be too obvious in your efforts to help, lest you get caught and wind up dead for the blatant disregard of Amarantha's orders.

The sound of voices had you slowing in your steps as you overhead the back end of a conversation. Someone was in Feyre’s cell with her.

“Oh, that’s wonderfully gruesome.” You recognised that voice, but surely it wasn’t…

Feyre swore at the male, earning her a chuckle as he taunted, “Such words from a lady.”

You edged closer to the cell, unsure what your next move would be from here but still unwilling to leave her to fend for herself against Rhysand.

“Get out,” Feyre’s voice was frail as she tried to show her strength against the High Lord.

“Don’t you want me to heal your arm? Or is that what Y/N Vanserra is here to do? I know you’re there, Y/N.” His voice called out to you now.

Shit.

You approached the cell; it was too late to turn back. Your best chance was to play along with his games, there was not point in running, not when he knew you were there and that it clearly wasn’t your first visit.

“Hmm, wiping away the grime was a valiant effort, and what’s this you have?” The healing balm disappeared from your grasp, reappearing moments later in Rhysand’s hand. “Well, that’s not going to do much against the infection and broken bones.”

Rhysand turned back to face Feyre, “But how about a trade? I’ll heal your arm in exchange for you. Two weeks every month, two weeks of my choosing, you’ll live with me at the Night Court. Starting after this messy three-trials business.” You desperately shook your head, trying to tell her he couldn’t be trusted.

“No.”

“No? Really?”

“Get out.”

“You’d turn down my offer – and for what? A fool’s chance that this healing balm will work? Or are you holding out for your friend – for Lucien, correct? After all, he healed you before, didn’t he? Then convinced his dear sister Y/N to come down to tend to you after the first trial.”

Now Rhysand turned to face you, giving you a look that had you thinking he could see your every thought, which, you remembered with dread, he probably could. You had never been taught how exactly mental shields worked but you did your best to block him out. It clearly wasn’t enough judging from the chuckle and assessing look he gave you before facing Feyre again.

“The way I see things Feyre, you have two options. The first, and the smartest, would be to accept my offer.” Your eyes widened in anticipation as Feyre spat at his feet, but Rhysand continued pacing the length of the cell.

“The second option – and the one only a fool would take – would be for you to refuse my offer and place your life, and thus Tamlin’s, in the hands of chance.”

Rhysand had stopped pacing, staring hard at Feyre who had turned white as a sheet and looked as thought she may pass out at any moment.

“Let’s say I walk out of here. Perhaps this healing balm will work,” He tossed it back to you, desperate in your attempt to grab it before it could shatter to the floor. “Perhaps Lucien will come to your aid and offer his magic. Or perhaps he won’t come at all. Between you and me, he’s been keeping a low profile after his rather embarrassing outburst at your trial. Amarantha’s not exactly pleased with him. Tamlin even broke his delightful brooding to beg for him to be spared – such a noble warrior, your High Lord. She listened, of course – but only after she made Tamlin bestow Lucien’s punishment. Twenty lashes.”

Feyre started shaking, eyes darting up to you in confirmation and what looked like betrayal. You hadn’t told her about the lashes.

“Although, from what I heard, the punishment wasn’t overly effective seeing that the wounds somehow healed over within a few hours without the assistance of magic. You would almost think that something like that healing balm you've got there, Y/N, was used despite Amarantha’s order that there was to be no assistance provided.” Rhysand tutted as he turned to you with a smile that made your stomach coil but said no more on the matter.

“So, Feyre, it’s really a question of how much you’re willing to risk it. I don’t need to invade your thoughts to know that you’re wondering if that fever of yours is the first sign of infection. I already know that you’ve slowly been realising that you’re dying.” There was a beat of silence in which Feyre stared back at him with such hatred, you felt your pulse quicken at the thought that it may be too late to help.

“Well?”

“Go. To. Hell.”

Before you could react, Rhysand lashed out and twisted Feyre’s arm, her scream echoing throughout the cell as she thrashed against him. But he kept his grip, twisting the bone a final time before releasing her arm as she half sobbed and panted through the pain.

“This is the last time I’ll extend my assistance. Once I leave this cell, my offer is dead.” Feyre spat at him again but remained silent.

With a disappointed sigh, Rhysand began to ripple with darkness. You weren’t sure what to think; you couldn’t trust him but if Feyre really was dying and this was her only chance of survival…

“Wait.”

The darkness around the High Lord vanished, solidly appearing again with a grin as he faced Feyre.

“Yes?”

“Just two weeks?”

“Just two weeks. Two teensy, tiny weeks with me every month is all I ask.” He was kneeling in front of her now as he purred out his terms. As if suddenly aware of how much time you had already spent down here, your senses picked up, listening closely for any sounds of the returning guards, but there was nothing.

A surge of magic had you turning to face the cell just as Rhysand grabbed Feyre’s arm. She let out a scream before fainting, head falling against the wall.

“What did you do?” You yelled, banging on the bars of the cell in a futile attempt to get in.

“Exactly what we bargained for. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you, Vanserra.” Before you could process his words, Feyre was suddenly sitting up, with the blood and mud completely gone you could do nothing but watch as some colour finally returned to her cheeks. Letting out a sign you offered her a small smile, at least he had kept his word and healed her arm. The remainder of the bargain was something to think about later when you all got out of this mess. If you all got out of this mess.

“What have you done to me?” Only then did you notice the black swirls that covered her skin and the large eye tattooed in the centre of her palm.

“It’s custom in my court for bargains to be permanently marked upon flesh.”

“Make it go away.”

“You humans truly are grateful creatures, aren’t you?” Rhysand stood back up, darkness wafting around him again. “I think I’ll wait to tell Tamlin about our little bargain. I do wonder if he will be as appreciative as you are. Rest up, Feyre.” And then he was gone in a shadow of night.

“Feyre? Are you alright?” You knelt on the floor outside the cage, surveying her for any signs of potential harm caused by Rhysand, but she just looked tired, troubled.

“I’m fine. My arm is fine. I just feel stupid, he didn’t do that to help me, he did it to hurt Tamlin.”

You let out a sigh, “We’ll deal with that later, alright? At least you’re not about to die, so we will take that as a win.” Standing back up you surveyed her again; she was so young and had already faced so much more than most of the fae here. “I’ve been here too long, I need to go before the guards return. But, Feyre, I’ll be back. I promise.”

*****

You slipped out of the dungeons and hurried down the corridor, quickly ducking behind a corner at the sound of the guards returning.

“Hello, Y/N.”

You jumped at his voice, heart hammering in your chest as you turned to face Rhysand where he casually leant against the wall, picking at his jacket as he surveyed you with mild interest.

“I was starting to wonder about what you had been getting up to after all these years here. We never see you at any of our Lady’s…festivities.”

“I must have missed the invite.” You tried to step around him. You had gone this long without piquing the interest of any of Amarantha’s cronies, managing to stay relatively to yourself, and you’d be damned if you were forced to show your face now.

“Interesting,” His violet eyes continued to assess you. “You know, it doesn’t surprise me really. I remember back when we were just children, playing court whilst forced to join in on the formalities. You always managed to remain in the shadows, yet even back then, you somehow knew everything and got away with so much.”

You stared back, eyes narrowing as you waited for him to continue. He clearly had some angle he was getting at.

“Yes. Those particular skills may be useful to me one day. And while I’m in such a giving mood, how about a bargain of our own? You be my eyes and ears,” You scoffed, already shaking your head as you attempted to walk away again. “And in return, I’ll keep your role in all of this quiet. You wouldn’t want Amarantha to know that it was you who helped Lucien, and now Feyre, would you? After all, I’m sure she would be pleased to be reminded of your presence in her court.”

Glaring at him, you knew he had you cornered. The satisfied smirk that played on his face told you that he knew as well.

With a reluctant sigh you stretched out your hand which he firmly grasped.

“Fine.”

“Lovely.”

You refused to break eye contact with the High Lord as you felt his magic encase your upper arm and shoulder, no doubt leaving a similarly intricate pattern to the one now splayed across Feyre’s arm.

You looked down to see if there was any visible evidence of the bargain, but it was completely covered by your dress. Good. At least that would stop any questions from being asked.

“I’ll be seeing you around, Y/N.” And then he was gone in another shadow of darkness.

#cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #Vanserra!Reader #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian acotar #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #marley writes

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yuriisclumsy · 2 months

Note

After I read that Cale x flirty reader!!..I screamed..Like oh my!!.. Can I make a request where is the enemy to lovers?.. Like the reader is a villain who likes to flirt with Cale every time they meet. In addition, this reader is shameless.. Definitely a mess dan chaotic 🤣🤣🤣.. And the reader kisses Cale on the cheek before she leaves saying 'Next time we meet, I'll ask for the size of your ring finger, Bye baby.".. I want to see Cale and the many reactions too..Bye author

Take care of yourself 😘

Villains Have a Heart Too, Y'know

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,355

»»►When I got this request I was surprised many people liked Flirty Reader!

»»►I went off a bit from the request, but what can I do? When a good plot just pops up I have to follow it, no matter if it has little to do with the request. Still, I do try to make it as closely to the asker's request.

»»►I feel like, for this scenario, it would take place in the Whooper Kingdom–you’ll know why once you read.

»»►On another note, [Name] has had encounters with Cale ever since he somehow got transmigrated into the world of Birth of a Hero. The man is tired. But let’s be real, when is he not?

»»►Cale just has to deal with another headache-giving-maniac sadly.

Metals were crashing.

The clash between steel signified a battle taking place. Brutal forces wrestle against each other for dominion.

Fighting for power. It has always been like this.

Walls and towers, buildings–whether high or low–cumbled due to the aggressiveness of battle. Many scurried off to safety, finding a safe place to hide until the warfare concluded with its victors.

In the Whopper Kingdom, where mages were deemed to be spans of evil, stood a woman of great talent. She was a genius in her field, with masses tittling her: “The Grand Magician.”

The Grand Magician had been a force not to be reckoned with ever since her ascension through the Magic Tower. Which is why she is the main target for the Rebellion; Toonka's sworn enemy.

“Come back here witch!” a wounded man yelled.

“Awww, is little Toonka unable to land a hit?” the girl said. She giggled at the man’s inability to harm her.

“Why, you little sh-t! AHHH!” The man–Tookan–charged at her with fists fully ready to punch her. He missed by a large margin.

“You missed me!~” the girl taunted Toonka. She had been flying on a broom this whole time, using spells to her advantage, without fully killing the barbaric man. She had the power to eliminate her opponent, but she found more joy from playing with her food.

She laughed at Toonka’s poor excuse of attacks.

“Get down here you demon-incarnate!”

“My my, that insult is far too sophisticated for you! Did you finally grow a brain?”

“I alway had a brain you b-tch!” Toonka leaped in the air in anger, and missed her once again.

“What foul language,” the mage manifested a staff, “I should teach you some manners!” Twirling her staff summoned a ray of spells; casting lighting in the field—all which Toonka managed to avoid. How lucky.

“Damn you woman!” Toonka screamed as he barely missed a bolt.

“Hehehe…HAHAHAHA!” The girl laughed hysterically with tears in her eyes. She loved to see people from above, scramble like ants.

“Hahaha...ahhh. Dear me, I haven’t had this much fun in a while,” she said, wiping away a tear that had formed.

An orb suddenly appeared next to the mage flashing in alert.

“Hmmm…” in amusement she took it into her hands, one hand gracefully waving above it. An image appeared on the sphere; a red haired male was shown through the ball—he seems to be inside the Magic Tower.

“Dear me, if it isn't my sweet love,” she looks at Toonka after making the crystal ball disappear, “sorry, little Toonka, seems our playtime needs to be paused and rescheduled to a later date. Hope you can keep entertaining me. Ta ta~”

Casting a spell, she disappeared slowly to the disgust of the man she bid farewell to.

She had done it on purpose.

“GET BACK HERE YOU WRETCH!”

…

The twentieth floor, the master of the magic tower’s room.

“I-I thought I was going to die…!!”

A young mouse-dwarf child had almost seen his soul ascending to the heavens above a few seconds prior, when his tiny body was lifted off the ground and flew to the top of the magic tower.

He stepped back trying to ground himself. He bumped into someone, making him turn around apologetically.

“I-I’m sorry,” he turned around only to see a cat.

“Meoow.”

His eyes meet the gaze I casted at him.

“...”

“Ah.”

How awkward.

“There is one more floor in the magic tower,” the kid said, diverting his embarrassing moment.

“Then is the twenty-first floor the master's room?” I, in all my mercy, went on with my business like nothing happened. This was much appreciated by the boy.

“No, that’s not what we call it.”

“Then what do you call it?” I questioned him.

The real room of the master of the magic tower. A place that even the non-wizard alliance hasn’t found; a room no one knew the existence of.

At Least, that was the only thing that was stated in Birth of a Hero.

“Ground Zero,” a high pitched voice responded.

“We call it Ground Zero.”

It doesn't belong to the child, nor could it have come from him–since he didn’t know the room's actual name–the cats did not speak in this form, they knew better than that.

I can recognize that voice even if I become half deaf…

“[Name]...” I called the name of the intruder, facing her as she appeared from a mist that manifested out of thin air.

“Hello,” She smiled innocently, “it’s been a while…dear Cale.”

I stare at her with a suspicion of a hundred detectives. “What are you doing here?”

The children recoil behind me. The mouse: scared out of his mind; The cats: hissing at the intruder.

She had been causing nothing but wreck since the day I met her.

“Awww… did you not miss me?” She pouted.

“No.” I said bluntly.

In truth, although she is destructive, she’s never killed anyone. She may act like an evil witch, but she’ll alway cast barriers to protect.

The reason she acts like she does is still a mystery, even to me.

“Bo-hoo…” She pouted. She quickly got over it and spoke, “So, Want the treasure of this tower now? You know, if you called for me beforehand, I would have shown you the way.”

“Then take me there.”

“Nope,” She smiled teasingly at me. Honestly…can’t I just have a day without a headache. “If I did, you would just leave right after, leaving me all alone in this empty tower.”

“Then what do you propose?” I inquired.

“Well… I want to join your little fiasco.”

“*HISS*” the cats hissed at her. They really don’t like her.

I narrowed my eyes on her. I can’t deny that she would be really useful if she joined us. But on the contrary, the people of the anti-wizard organization would look at us in a not so good light. Tonka is my main problem. If I let her in, Toonka will follow me until the end of the world for, quote-on-quote, “betraying him.”

I don’t need more problems. But his majesty would kill me if he found out I didn’t recruit her in. Luck isn't on my side this time.

“You can join.”

“Oh, I knew you wouldn't let me—wait, what?” she paused, looking at me incredulously. “What did you say?”

“I said you can join,” I repeated.

“...”

“I CAN JOIN?!?!?!?”

We flinched back.

Jeez… Wasn’t it her idea in the first place? Why is she acting like this after I said yes? Honestly… I’ll never understand a woman’s mind.

“..yes,” I said slowly to not ignite another yell.

She jumped up and down while squealing in excitement.

“Oh, I have to go and pack my things!” she summoned her staff, with a swing in the air she started to disappear the same way she appeared. “See you soon love! Next time I’ll ask for your ring size!~”

“Oh, and little Mueller?” she spoke to the boy hiding behind me.

“Yes..!” he shrieked.

“Open up Ground Zero for Cale, will you?” She then fully vanished.

“*sigh…*” I turn to look at Mueller. “Well? Are you going to open ground zero, or not?”

“Ah! Y-yes, right away!” he scurried off to do what he was told.

What have I gotten myself into?

"Human, do you want me to obliviate her?"

"No!"

Fin

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @lureslutes, @cruzerforce4256, @narcise63, @potterhead-whovian-117, @margieee194, @zenix108, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @potterhead-whovian-117, @alithurism, @matchalyne, @minteaspoon, @dontknowhowtousethis, @valacz29, @rainalovesouya, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @lablog5, @htshbtcp, @purposefulwhale, @leylnnn, @ixchelhernandez4, @minteaspoon. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Lout of Count's Family updates. Back to Lout Of Count's Family Master-List

Master-List

#cale henituse x reader #cale henituse #trash of the count's family x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #lout of the count's family x reader #reader input #x reader #manhwa x reader #totcf #manhwa #manhwa fanfic #raon miru #on and hong #mueller #toonka

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genshindsau · 7 months

Text

Summary: Scaramouche struggles to accommodate to his place in the harem. It isn't easier when some of the other members of the harem constantly try to talk to him or make him spend time with you. He tells himself he doesn't want to, that he is fine blending into the background and being easily forgotten (is he truly?). Concubine!Scaramouche. Empress!reader

CW: Reverse Harem, cursing, sexual implications, nsfw mentioned but not actually described, mentions of Scaramouche's past (as well as other characters), Scaramouche is rather rude in this and can be degrading to the other members, sexualization, literally just Scaramouche struggling with his feelings, non-sexual nudity.

AN: This wasn't exactly what I originally planned, I ended up including a lot about other characters rather than focusing just on Scaramouche and the readers... oh well. There are also a bit of time skips. Dialogue may be choppy as well, especially towards the end. If its to hard to follow please feel free to let me know.

"I'm just saying, when she does the thing with her fingers…" Childe, as he likes to be called, curled two of his fingers in front of Scaramouche's face. He was wearing a cheeky smile, his eyes glittering as he stared at Scaramouche.

Scaramouche clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together as his eyes narrowed at Childe.

Go away. Please. Go away. He kept repeating these words in his head.

"Oh," Childe leaned forward, his chin resting on his palm. "I suppose you wouldn't know."

His words held no malicious intent. There wasn't any pity either. Scaramouche knew that but he still wanted to scream. He also wanted to punch Childe right in his bright, smiling face. He was getting too much enjoyment out of bothering and annoying Scaramouche.

"There is nothing wrong with not defiling myself."

Childe snorted. "Is it really defiling? I mean," Childe shrugged his shoulders. "She is our wife."

"No, she isn't. Neither of us are legally married to her."

"Exactly," Childe snapped his fingers. "We're concubines; Her concubines. We get all the fun."

Fun? What part about being a concubine is fun? Childe is a mindless puppy who will go wherever you ask, do whatever you ask. Even kill whoever you want. He has had the unfortunate experience of seeing Childe covered in blood and a body at his feet. When you appeared, he expected the worse. Expected Childe to be whipped or scarred. Instead, you ruffled his blood-coated hair and said you deal with the clean up.

Why is he even listening to him?

"Look if you really don't want to spread your legs for her," Scaramouche cringed at Childe's words. He had a feeling Childe was making his words as crude as possible to get a reaction from Scaramouche.

He was succeeding.

"Then that’s fine. But you do a really shitty job at hiding the way your eyes linger on her."

"I - I do not!" Scaramouche balked at him, his cheeks heating up.

"Really?" Childe deadpanned.

"I would not consider it! She already has more than enough people who would let her use them. I will not be one of them."

Scaramouche felt like he needed to defend himself. Needed to make himself stand above the others and not be one of the men who succumbs to his position as a glorified body to use. He lasted this long - lasted through multiple masters without ever having to give them his body. He can't allow that to change.

You've never even touched him, his mind whispered to him. Aside from the time you disintegrated his previous collar, you've never laid a hand on him.

Childe quieted for a moment. It unnerved Scaramouche as Childe stared at him. He felt like he was looking into his soul and he almost wanted Childe to keep teasing him. He'd prefer that to how he was now looking at him.

"She's not like that." Childe voiced out. His voice almost stern.

"If you're really not interested, then whatever. That's fine. But don't assume things about her when you haven't even try to understand her. She may be cruel to her enemies but they deserve it. She would never force anyone - never force her concubines or consorts to do anything they didn't want. Whether that is in her bed or in their personal life."

Scaramouche's eyes wavered at the shift in Childe's tone. Childe sounded dangerous right now.

"Why," Scaramouche's voice cracked. "Why would I even want to know her - or understand her?"

"Our lives are dedicated to her. They belong to her, wouldn't you - "

Scaramouche cut him off " - And you're okay with that? Belonging to someone like her. Someone who is part of the Imperial Family?"

Childe cannot be that daft. Everyone knows about the Imperial Family. Knows that no one should trust them. Knows that they are cruel, tyrannical, and would do anything to be the empress. He doubts that you are any different. No, he knows that you are no different.

"Sure." Childe leaned back against his chair, his tone softening now. "She gives me whatever I want. Lets me have some control over my life. Lets me fight. But she also protects those who belong to her. She's stern and callous and can be this terrifying larger than life figure but that does not mean she is going to go down the same path as her family."

"… you can't be so sure of that."

"Just like you can't be so sure that she will turn out like her family. I believe in what I see. Maybe she puts on a certain façade in front of us but so what if she does? She still treats us better than anyone else would."

Scaramouche cant find it in himself to refute anything Childe says. He pointedly ignores the underlying truth in Childe's words. It doesn't matter if you've never laid a finger on him or even so much as spend time alone with him. You're royalty. You're part of the imperial family. That automatically makes you a terrible person in scaramouche's eyes.

Scaramouche was dragged out of his thoughts by the scraping of a chair against the floor as Childe stood up. He stretched his arm above his head before resting a palm on Scaramouche's shoulder, ignoring the flinch that came from Scaramouche.

"If you want to ask anything? Or If you want to try something? Anything? I'm sure she will listen if you ask. You just got to be brave enough to do it." Childe winked at him as walked out of the room, humming happily.

Scaramouche ignored the subtle blow to his character from Childe. He was fine the way he was now. He was fine staying in his room and being an easily forgettable presence (no, he wasn't). He was fine not getting close to you or the others in the harem. Keeping to himself is how he has survived everything he has been through, so he will do what he has always done.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scaramouche kept his eye trained on the plate, ignoring the simmering of anger and something else in his gut that he can't name. It was dinner. He dreaded dinner because he was forced to sit with everyone - with you, even though he is about seven seats away. You barely said a word. If it wasn't for the heaviness in the air he might have been able to ignore you and pretend but your presence always left an uncomfortable weight settling around his body - like your engulfing him; all around him no matter how far away he stands.

He wonders if the others feel it. If they do they don't care; or rather revel in the feeling. It just makes him overly conscious.

His hand clenches around the fork in his one hand, turning pale due to the strength as he has to listen to the incessant chattering of the others. It grates on his nerve, rubbing him raw as he has to listen to the happiness that flits from every voice he hears - yet he doesn't hear yours.

He startles as a hand clasps on his shoulders, a good portion of eyes also landing on him. He blinks a few times barely realize someone was calling him. His eyes land on Childe first because of course it does. He then looks to see Venti (fuck), Heizou (double fuck), and finally Itto (well now the world is just being cruel) sitting across from him.

Childe is leaning back in his chair, two of the legs lifting off the ground. "You really have no filter."

It took Scaramouche a moment to realize Childe wasn't talking to him but rather Itto who had an annoying innocent smile on his face. Venti looked somewhere between interested but closed off. His body curls into itself, his shoulders hunching in such a small move that Scaramouche is sure he is the only one who noticed. In the back of his mind, he wonders if these kind of talks drag up old memories for the other concubine - not that he cared enough to learn anything about the others, he just happened to hear about it in passing. Heizou on the other hand has a shit-eating grin on his lips, teeth bared in laughter.

"I - " Itto gawked for a moment. "It's a perfectly normal question."

Scaramouche tried to refocus, to remember what was said but he couldn't.

"Maybe so but asking at dinner, really?"

"Where else am I going to ask? He scurries off like a little mouse whenever he's spots anyone. It's natural to want to know more about each other." Itto is wonderfully dense at times it seems like both a blessing and curse. Scaramouche wants to curse him out but there is no malice in Itto's tone, just genuine curiosity and his words curl uncomfortably in his throat.

"And asking about the time he spent with y/n? That's getting to know him?" Though it may sound like Childe is admonishing Itto, the smile on his lips says the exact opposite. Childe could careless, he was just enjoying the way this would egg on Itto and annoy Scaramouche.

"Besides everyone know he hasn't spent the night with her - or even an evening with her." Heizou was the one who spoke this time.

"That is none of your business!" Scaramouche sputtered out, his ears turning red.

"Seriously?" Itto turned to Scaramouche with wide-eyes. "Why not?" It was an innocent enough question but Scaramouche wouldn't answer - much less at the dinner table where everyone is basically in love with you and not to mention the fact that you are only seven or so seats separated from him.

"It's no use," Childe shrugged. "I've already asked him about it."

"You didn't ask, you interrogated me." Scaramouche gritted back.

Childe just waved a dismissive hand.

"Why complain. As far as I see it, that means more time for us." Heizou spoke up.

"Well yeah," Itto agreed. "But still… you should be able to experience things with her. I mean, you haven't even spent any time with her? At all?" Itto seemed genuinely curious but all Scaramouche could do was grind his teeth as his eyes narrowed at the plate in front of him. He focus on ignoring the embarrassment that caused him to want to curl up in his seat and well just die. He thinks that would be preferable over what he is currently going through.

He's thankful that he is sat at the other end of the table. Maybe, just maybe there is a chance you didn't hear any of the conversations, the teasing aimed towards him. Yet he knows you did - that is if you decided it was important enough to listen to, you would.

Without meaning to his eyes flickered down to your end of the table. Your head was angled and he followed where he thinks your eyeline would be and landed on Aether and Tigh-nari who appear to be laughing together about something. You're face doesn't even twitch, your lips don't curve upwards but they don't frown either. It's completely neutral, just like it was when he first met you - when he still belonged to Ei - but it didn't feel nearly as oppressive.

He didn't understand why. Nothing's changed. Not for him.

"I don't want to." He kept his voice low. "And I do not see how it is any of your business or why you keep bringing it up," He glared specifically at Childe who stared back at him.

Itto gaped at him for a second before he shook his head. "We're not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything. I didn't mean to imply anything lewd. But… you don’t want to be involved in anything - whether it is with the harem or y/n. You're going to spend the rest of your life here, with her, with us - with all of us, even the people who seem to be the hardest to get to know want you to be comfortable and happy here. Closing yourself off, distancing yourself… maybe you had to do it in the past but the people here,” Itto shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “What I am trying to say is that no one here wants to hurt you or see you suffer."

The last thing Scaramouche needed is to be told this by Itto of all people. He wanted to scream. Wanted to rip his hair out. Most of all he wanted to rip out the longing that wracked through him at Itto's word. It felt like he was peering down into Scaramouche's soul and voicing out everything Scaramouche had pushed down. Tucked so deep inside of him that even he forgot.

When he was younger, that was all he wanted to hear. After he was taken the first time, he imagined faceless people who accepted him and loved him but as months passed, then years and then he was sold to Ei, he forced himself to get rid of that pathetic yearning. People just weren't like that. People were selfish and cruel.

Yet, he saw it around the harem building and in the palace countless times. Thoma baking treats for the rest of the harem members just because. Venti who stayed up playing the flute for the others who couldn't sleep. Even Ayato - who Scaramouche deemed the most selfish - would cover the other harem members up in a blanket if they feel asleep anywhere. Aether, who knitted blankets in the winter, not only for the harem members but also for servants and staff.

You… you who never raised your voice at your harem members. You who took in a unconventional men - Itto, Venti - and never made them feel less than because of their background. You who carried them to their beds when they fell asleep. You who…

It doesn't matter. None of it matters.

"You're sheltered. Naïve." Scaramouche forced out between his teeth. "We're not family. We're not brothers. We're all stuck under the whims of a women who could kill us with a thought." His voice increased in tone as he spoke. He wasn't shouting, but he was loud enough to draw attention to himself. "I will never think of myself as lowly as the rest of you do." He squeezed his eyes shut.

He was telling himself to shut up. Screaming at himself inside of his mind but he couldn't stop.

"I won't settle for debasing myself like the rest of you do. Especially for someone who doesn't even love you back."

There was a small cough and Scaramouche froze. It was silent - no one else at the table spoke and he could feel numerous eyes on him. The color drained from his skin as he hastily stood up, throwing the napkin on the table before quickly leaving the table. He didn't even care for protocol or for your dismissal.

As he fled down the halls, tears of anger and embarrassment burned behind his eyes but he didn't let them fall, even as they blurred his vision. The door slammed shut behind him and he collapsed against it, his head thumping against it as he cursed at himself. Cursed at the others for being so kind to him. Cursed at you for not being as horrible towards your harem as he wanted to believe you were.

--------------------------------------------------------------

No one spoke to him the next day. Not that he made it easy. He hid in his room, ate his breakfast in his room, stared at the window in his room. He only ever saw the two servants assigned specifically for him. They even brought up dinner for him - telling him that you told them to do that. You probably didn't even want to see his face. He lashed out at the others concubines; concubines you cared about much more than you did him.

It still left an uncomfortable burning in his chest. He made himself vulnerable. He showed too much emotion, not just in front of one or two people but everyone in the harem and yourself. He might as well as starting weeping in front of all them as well.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He blinked, lifting his head from the pillow. He wondered who it was. Servants only knock out of politeness once before entering the room, other harem members just barge in at times. For a minutes he felt a tinge of fear thinking that it was you, but you wouldn't knock either - you had no reason to.

Scaramouche moved to open the door so only a sliver of light creeped through. The first thing he saw was the long red hair, pinned back and the red robe - It was Diluc.

"Can I come in?" He asked softly - like he was coaxing a wild animal. Scaramouche nodded and opened the door further to let him in.

Scaramouche bowed his head, his eyes lingering on the embroidered robe Diluc was wearing. His eyes trailed over the golden patchwork. There wasn't a single stand of hair out of place, everything was perfect. He was perfect.

Diluc's eyes glanced around the room but he said nothing. Scaramouche was expecting an admonishment, something about his bed being dirty or the left over plates on the bed but Diluc's eye's just skimmed right over them.

"I wasn't expecting company." It came out harsher than Scaramouche intended. He had never been alone with Diluc before; barely said a few words to him besides the first few days he was introduced into the harem. Diluc was either busy, bustling about the harem building or he was by your side.

"I suppose I should have sent a servant or someone to tell you beforehand. I'm sorry if this seems abrupt, I just wanted to… see how you are doing."

"You mean after my outburst." Scaramouche forced out, his voice tight.

Diluc let out a soft, sympathetic sigh. "Yes, I suppose so. Though, I wasn't thinking about it as an outburst."

Scaramouche didn't care. If Diluc was here - all he could assume was one thing.

"So you're here to deal a punishment?"

"A punishment?" Diluc tilted his head, confusion in his voice.

"I insulted the other concubines. I left before I was dismissed. It's your job isn't it? As the head consort - you deal out the punishments."

"You misunderstand." Diluc shook his head. "Can I sit?" He motioned towards a small couch that was placed in the room. Scaramouche nodded and Diluc sat down, his hands smoothing down his clothes.

"I am not here to give out a punishment. You are not the first to resort to insults or get angry at the others. It is natural that it happens when there are so many of us, and with such different personalities." Even as Diluc spoke, there was a small smile forming on his lips. He almost seems like he is reminiscing as he speaks of the harem members.

Scaramouche takes small steps until he is able to sit across from Diluc, keeping a good amount of distance between the two of them.

"So you decided to what? Come here out of the goodness of your heart." There was distain in his voice as he tried to figure out Diluc's true intentions. "Or are you here to defend the others? Defend y/n? If you are, you can leave. I don't want to hear it."

Diluc just gazed at him, no malice or annoyance in his eyes.

"I am not here to defend anyone. I am here because I wanted to check up on you. I know we haven't had a lot of chances to talk or even get to know each other - that's no ones fault - but, I would still like for you to be comfortable in the harem. Find some sort of enjoyment in the life you are now living."

Scaramouche stared at Diluc, scrutinizing him.

"Why are you all saying that?" He shook his head. "You, Itto, even Childe for fucks sake. All of you go around, stating that I should be happy and appreciate the life I am given." Scaramouche raised from his seat as he spoke. "But all of you - you guys have no idea about how awful this world truly is. How awful it can be. How things can change in a split second. How can you come in here and - and lecture me about life when you and all of the others are sheltered behind the whims of a cruel woman."

There was silence. Scaramouche words continued to float through both of their minds. If he wasn't getting punished, he definitely would now.

"You don't think we're not aware?" Diluc question is so simple and it sends a shiver down Scaramouche's body. There's no heat to his tone and Diluc doesn't appear to be angry. But the way he says it, the small almost pained smile that graces his face, it leaves Scaramouche stumbling over his words.

"I - I didn't mean - I mean…"

"It's okay." Diluc lifted a hand as if to placate him. Diluc's eyes shifted away, as if in thought, before looking back at Scaramouche. "I grew up in a family with three sisters. They were…. terrible. Terrible people. Terrible wives. I would see my brother in laws hiding bruising, hiding their pain. I would hear the comments my sisters directed towards their own husband - comments so degrading and humiliating that even as a young boy, I wanted to curl up and cry just from hearing their words. They would even let others say whatever they wanted. They never defended them. Never did nothing. In fact, sometimes my sisters would egg others on to say even worse."

Diluc remained poised as he talked but there was a shakiness in his tone that betrayed his feelings. Scaramouche's heart clenched in his chest - though, he is not sure why.

"For the first 18 years of my life I grew up around them. Grew up in a family that basically trained me to be a perfect husband, seeing me more as an investment to getting rich than an actual person." A sigh slipped past Diluc's lips. "What I am trying to say is: I know we have different experiences. Everyone in this harem has different experiences when it comes to our time before we entered the harem but try not to let it define how you are going to live the rest of your life. I can't tell you to trust me, or trust the others, or even trust Y/n, that’s a choice you have to decide whether you want to make or not."

Diluc stood up, his movements effortlessly beautiful. He stepped closer to Scaramouche but didn't touch him. "If you do decide to try, you can start with something small. I promise you that, as long it doesn't pose a threat to you or anyone in this palace, it will be fulfilled."

With a small bow of his head, Diluc moved passed him and towards the door. "I hope to see you at dinner tomorrow."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Start small. Start small. Scaramouche repeated those words inside of his head before letting out an annoyed, disgruntled sound.

His hands gripped at the strands of his hair, longer than he has ever been allowed to grow it out, as he paced around the room. The only light shining through is the moon and the stars - they are the only one's baring witness to his meltdown.

He doesn't want to. Actually, he does. He just doesn't want to admit it. Admitting it would mean allowing everything he pushed down into the small crevices inside of him would come spilling out. One at a time, slowly, over time until he can't stop it and he is overflowing with all the pain and loneliness that he thought he had moved on from.

He wants friends. He wants to be loved. He wants to be cared for. He wants to do things; explore, paint, learn to ride a horse. He wants it so bad that it makes him sick. He wants to be involved. He wants to believe that he is worth more than the shiny collar that used to be fastened around his neck - signifying that he is nothing more than a prize without a voice, without a say.

Not is, he tells himself. Was. He was nothing more than a prize. But, he doesn't have to be. Not if he decides to at least try what everyone else has been telling him.

But what if it goes wrong?

He can handle being dismissed and looked down on right now. He just stuffs the anger and despair down alongside everything else. But if he opens himself up; allows himself to possibly believe that maybe he can fit in and be accepted for himself, and it all turns to nothing… he isn't sure if he will be able to pick himself up again.

It is either do this one thing or don't do it. It's simple. The choice is simple. Pick one, ignore the other, that is all he has to do. It doesn't even have to be a lot of words, just go up, say what he needed to say then leave. If worse comes to worse, he could say the others encouraged him - that Diluc encouraged him. That would at least get you to think before you decided to lash out and punish him for interrupting you with nonsense.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," Scaramouche groaned as if he was in a lot of pain, a string of profanities leaving him, something he would never do in the presence of others.

--------------------------------------------------------------

He stared at the bronze door in front of him, his eyes narrowed. He pointedly ignored the guards who stood at each end of the halls. He also ignored the looks sent his way when he entered the hall that led to your room. He wonders what is going through their mind when they look at him.

That he is desperate. Pitiful.

Maybe that he finally degraded himself enough to be used.

He raised a hand, his hands forming a fist as he prepared to knock on the door. He stilled right before he brought his fist down. What is he doing? What if you're not even in there? What if you just send him away without allowing him to say anything?

Nope. He's not going to allow that. He is not going to allow you to not listen to him when he had worked up the courage to come all the way up to your room - a place he spend his entire time in the harem ignoring.

Instead of rapping his knuckles against the door, his hand grabbed the two handles and pushed the door open.

It wasn't what he was expecting.

Well, he wasn't sure what he was expecting but not this.

You're room looked every part like it belonged to royalty but there was something else that left it looking almost cozy. In between all the furnished gold, there was tea placed on the table (two cups) and a half-eaten cake. There was a pale-blue silk robe thrown over the couch which he knew belonged to Ayato. There was cushions thrown on the floor along with a blanket. Leaning on the floor against one of the walls he saw numerous painting - some finished, some not - but none of them look like the ones seen hanging up in the halls of the palace.

He couldn't continue to look around the room before one of your personal servant's drew his attention. The servant startled at Scaramouche's unplanned and borderline inappropriate entrance into the room - a resort building on their lips but they quickly clamp their mouth shut as a voice - your voice - echoes from another room.

"Its fine. Leave us."

For a moment he thought you were talking to him but just as quickly the servant bowed to him, though their face screwed up. Their lips pursed like they were looking at some annoying pest. Since you were still in the adjacent room, Scaramouche felt brave enough to send a glare at the servant.

Concubine beats servant - even servants who work directly under you.

He can't lie, it felt nice to do that.

He was left alone in the room now. His feet were frozen to the floor as his eyes lingered on the open doorway, fluorescent light spilling out and into your bedroom. You were in there. You knew he had entered your room and you haven't told him to get out. Not yet at least.

"Are you just going to stand there? Or did you barge into my room without a reason? Unless you finally decided to give up the whole 'Don't talk to me. Don't touch me.' facade. I thought you'd hold out longer."

He flushed as you spoke. Both from anger and embarrassment at being called out. His feet carried him towards the entrance of the doorway, a resort building on his lips.

"I have in no way come here to spend time with you or be... touched."

"But you do want to talk." It wasn't a question. You seemed to already know why he had stormed into your room and now...

His eyes widened.

He had walked right into your bathroom and there you were. You were in a huge tub, naked but the water and suds covered you from the neck down. You still had your eye's covered as well.

His brain failed him. He couldn't form any words and a redness blossomed on the tip of his ears.

"You're leering."

"I am - I am not." He sputtered.

"Wanna join me?"

"Absolutely not."

You shrugged. "Then you're going to just stand there?"

"I - no I am not. I just came to -"

"To what?"

Scaramouche pursed his lips. His eyes flicker around the room, looking everywhere but at you.

"Diluc," he figured this would be the safest way to start. "Diluc said I should come and talk to you. The others did as well."

He trailed off awkwardly, expecting you to say something to him but you didn't. Instead you just leaned back against the tub.

"I wasn't going to."

You just hum.

"I thought it was a ridiculous idea but I just want to make things clear. I - I am not here to be one of your bodies to use. Or for you to assume that I am going to do whatever you ask me just because you're... you. I've spent enough of my life being surrounded by women who try to dictate everything about my life from what I eat to what I wear.

"I have no desire to understand you or get close to you. But I will apologize for the way I acted towards the others - your concubines and consorts, I mean. They - they are not you and just because I don't like you doesn't mean I should have been so... callous with the others and lashed out during dinner."

He let out a shuddering breath, a weight lifting from his chest as he said everything he wanted to say. He didn't realize just how nervous he actually was before coming into your room. His body feels limp.

You, however, didn't say anything for a short while.

In the back of his mind, he bet you enjoyed seeing him shift uncomfortably, a small sheen of sweat forming on his skin.

"Very well then."

He blinked at you.

"So that's it then." He stared at you, his eyebrows furrowing.

"That's it. Why? Where you expecting something else."

"Well no. I just - you're not angry. I mean at me insulting you earlier and then coming in here and basically saying I'll never," He trailed off, not sure why he was trying to explain anything to you - not when you don't seem to care.

You laugh softly. The sound ringing in his ears. "I was angry but not at what you said about me. You think you're words were insulting? They were the truth. Besides I've been called much worse." You shrug. "What I was angry at was your blatant disregard and disrespect for the others. But it appears that you've changed your mind and realize that you shouldn't blame them just because of your hate for me so no reason to linger in the past."

"You almost sound like you actually care about them." This slipped out before he even realized what he said. Perhaps after what he said earlier, after confronting you, he finds it harder to hold his tongue.

Your lips tighten but other than that you don't say anything. You don't agree or disagree with his statement.

"So you don't love them? Even though all of them seem like they are deeply in love with you."

You don't answer and Scaramouche thinks he screwed up.

"Does love have to be the only reason I take care of those under me? Can't there be any other reason?"

"Selfishness? Control? Pride?" Scaramouche spoke without thinking.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Scaramouche swears he see's your lips twitch. "I may not love them but they're mine. I protect what's mine."

So, he was right about some things.

"So it is pride and ego."

"…"

You shift in the tub, your head falling back against the marble. His eyes flicker down to your throat, watching as a bead of water travels down your skin before snapping his eyes back to your face.

"Most of them are innocent to the truth of the world." You broke the silence after a minute.

"They know men are deemed lesser in this society but they haven't experiences the harshness that the world can offer. Not like you have or Venti or Diluc."

He doesn't see how this answers his previous questions.

"Do I love them? No. I don't believe I am capable of loving anything. But, I care about them. About what they can do - both for me and for themselves. I don't want them to whither away in a society that takes everything from them and become a shell of who they are and what they want to be in the future."

Your fingers drum against the marble of the tub, a small sound echoing in the bathroom.

"You see me as a horrible, cruel person and in some ways, I would say its true. I don't care about the lives of people outside of this palace - not even the people I am meant to. I don't feel anything when I take the lives of others - whether they are enemies or just people fighting because they have to. Sometimes, I even enjoy it. That alone would have everyone labeling me as cruel and even sadistic and I would agree. However, I protect them, ensure they have a good life because I need to. I need their support. But… the people in this palace - they are my people. I want to keep them happy, keep them sheltered, keep them protected; and I'll do whatever that takes in order to guarantee that."

Your head lifts from where it was resting against the tub. He can't see your eyes, the cloth still covering them, but he can feel your gaze penetrating him. The sudden pressure around him is becoming a constant whenever you decide to gaze at him.

"Now, that includes you too. You were a war prize originally, that much is true. You were a means to insult Ei but now you are one of my people. You may just be a concubine but I don't want you clinging to your old life and your old ways of thinking that you need to isolate yourself to survive."

He hated the way you see through him. This is the most you've talked to him - ever; and yet you read him without a problem. It leaves him feeling naked and bared in front of you, even with all of his clothes still on.

"Think what you want about me. I don't care. But the others, they are good and pure and kind. At least open yourself up to them. Each of them will take you in with open arms and love and care about you in ways you may have forgotten."

Scaramouche wasn't sure how to reply to all that. You weren't being vulnerable or even truly opening up to him but there was something in your words that left him shifting on his feet.

"And if I don't want to?" His voice came out shakier than he wanted. His eyes glued to his feet rather than looking at you.

"Then don't. Spend the rest of your time in the harem alone and miserable." You waved a hand like it meant nothing to you.

"I can make sure your fed and healthy but other than that everything else is you're choice."

#genshin au #consort au #empress au #genshin impact #genshin x reader #c:empress #genshin impact x reader #c:scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

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lazy-sixteen · 6 months

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I was thinking about the themes of One Piece, and what differentiated out characters we see as good versus bad, especially in a work that takes a really accepting view of different moral standpoints and values (Coby and SWORDS's justice is very different from Sabo and the RA's justice but they are both presented as good guys we'd want to root for).

So like, why do we root for Luffy following his dream to be Pirate King, but not Teach?

What about hating Crocodile who wanted to create an ideal society free of the WG but not the RA who want something similar for whole the world?

Big Mom who wants to create a place where all sentient are equal and get along versus Koala and/or Otohime who dream of that same thing for humans and fishmen?

I mean the obvious answer is that protagonists and their allies tend to be likeable - they are usually drawn prettier, have less kick the dog moments, and we get more time with them as an audience. They have to be on some level, or no one would read the manga.

But from an in-story perspective, I think its a an under looked facet of Luffy's character, for him chasing his dream is more important than obtaining it. It's why he turns down Rayleigh straight up offering to tell him where Laugh Tale is, and what is on it. What is important to Luffy isn't so much becoming Pirate King, it is being free, having fun, sailing with his friends on the journey to be Pirate King.

It's why he helps Vivi in Alabasta, Cricket in Skypiea, Shirahoshi in Fishmen Island, and the Wano crew in uhh Wano (the journey wouldn't be fun if he'd abandoned his friends to do it)

It's why he takes dangerous detours to places like Little Garden or Sky Island or Punk Hazard(the journey wouldn't be fun if he didn't get to explore)

It's why he risks his life against Arlong for Nami and declares the entire world his enemy for Robin and literally threatens to starve to death to get Sanji back ( the journey wouldn't be fun if he can't do it with his crew by his side)

All of this is why, Luffy isn't afraid of dying either. He can die at any point on his journey to being Pirate King, and feel no regret because the journey itself was the important part.

Compare this to two other D.'s Law and Blackbeard.

Law's also relentlessly pursuing his dream when we meet him (stop Doflamingo to avenge Cora), and he is miserable.

Law in trying to achieve his dream whatever the cost keeps putting himself in situations he hates.

He leaves his beloved crew behind because the mission is basically a suicide run. He cozies up to the Government he hates and hands his heart over to a morally bankrupt mad scientist he's obviously disgusted by. He plans to get Doflamingo in trouble with Kaido, which mean 1) he likely won't get to punch out Mingo himself, 2) there is a high probability of civilians getting caught in the crossfire/dying horribly.

This journey sucks. If Law had died during any point of this he would have been the world's most pissed off ghost.

It's Luffy and the Strawhats busting in and transforming that journey that puts Law on the path to success with his dream and with not being so goddamn miserable.

Like screw Caesar, let;s have Luffy kick his ass and then you fix the children he was experimenting on. Screw playing nice with the government, do what you want and call us your allies instead. Screw Doflamingo, you and Luffy go beat him up and the rest of us will pull his government/crime family down around his ears.

And it works! Law's grumpy and annoyed and cursing Luffy out, but he tells Mingo he believes Luffy can pull out a miracle and looks more at peace watching Doflamingo and Luffy brawl - knowing that he'll die or succeed with his ally/friend - than he ever did with his fool-proof plan.

The journey before destination thing is also why Blackbeard feels like a special type of evil in OP despite there being technically worse/more evil villains, because Blackbeard always prioritizes his dream over how he gets it.

He'll stay in the shadows for 20 years to increase his chances of success (wouldn't it have been more fun to be a captain like he obviously wants?)

He'll kill his crewmate, turn his commander in for a reward, then kill his captain (wouldn't it have been more fun to stay friends, he never indicates he hates/dislikes them?)

He invites strong people - and strong seems to be the only criteria - to join his crew, though tbh their personalities often suck. I don't recall any panel of his crew just hanging out or joking around which even Baroque Works, Buggy's crew, and Kaido's Beast Pirates get (wouldn't it have been more fun to recruit people he can befriend, not just people he can use)

Like obviously Blackbeard feels like the antithesis of Luffy - even though they are both all about chasing their dreams. Luffy's all about the chasing, and Blackbeard only cares about the results.

#one piece meta #monkey d. luffy #marshall d. teach #trafalgar law #also another theme of the manga is romance (classical sense)#and the process of chasing your dream is so much more romantic #than the absolute ruthless prioritization of results

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kookygranger · 10 months

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Fairytale of Hawkins: Part One

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: You're spending Christmas in your best friend Robin's hometown this year, after spending far too many alone in the city. She can't wait to introduce you to the gang and all the wholesome festive activities they get up to, but you may have already made a not-so-good first (and second) impression on a certain metalhead in the first few days of your visit.

Warnings: mention of car crashing into snowbank (no damage), reader gets drunk (happy holidays!), reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 4.4k

Author's note: I've spent far too long agonising over this when it's supposed to be silly and fun and not perfect, so please just have this first part and ignore me screaming into a pillow in the corner.

Part Two

6 Days 'Til Christmas

You really weren’t feeling the holiday spirit this year.

Not that you normally did.

Christmas for you, meant taking advantage of a quiet city, spending the hours alone walking the empty streets and having nothing but smoked salmon and champagne for dinner without feeling guilty. Sometimes (every Christmas), you’d let a corny Hallmark movie play on your TV and cringe and laugh at the predictableness of it all. Maybe, you’d be a bit quieter when the lovesick couple inevitably kissed at the end, maybe you’d pour yourself a little more champagne.

The aesthetic of the holiday season itself, you didn’t mind so much. The pretty twinkling lights, spiced hot drinks, and cookies you could take. But the frenzied crowds, all the talk of “goodwill” and “Christmas cheer”, when all you had to do was spend an hour in a department store to witness the real ugliness of humanity – hard pass. And let’s not forget Christmas day itself, either people would be spending it stuck with family, passive-aggressive comments and secrets coming out after the first few rounds of spiked punch, or they’d be forcefully and painfully reminded of just how lonely they were in this world.

The snow was nice. You secretly enjoyed the quiet and stillness a fresh blanket of snow could bring to the city. But out here in the sticks? Snow was your worst enemy.

Once your heart had settled back to a normal pace, you got out of the car to assess the damage. There was no smoke coming from places it shouldn’t, no visible scratches or dents that you could see – but there was also no way in hell that you were getting this car out of the snowbank you’d crashed into. At least the deer you swerved to avoid was probably off in the trees to your left with its family, living to frolic another day.

“Shit.”

You had no idea where you were. Already lost on the horrible directions your best friend Robin had given you before that damn deer came out of nowhere. The snow was coming down faster than the street plows could keep up with, your hair drenched in a few minutes as another shiver ran through your whole body.

Hawkins was cold. Like, freezing. You always thought winter was winter, but they really took it to another level here in the Midwest.

The day still had a little light left in it, but darkness was fast approaching. You decided the smart thing to do was wait in the car and hope that somebody driving by would be able to help. Or pretend to help before murdering you. Well, you didn’t think walking on a fairly deserted road in the middle of a snowstorm when you had no idea which direction to go would produce better results. So, you waited.

And waited.

Oh god, you were gonna die here all alone. You never should’ve let Robin talk you into coming home with her for Christmas. You could be happily wrapped up in blankets in your climate-controlled apartment with a warm mug of eggnog right now.

Wait! The rum you bought for making eggnog with Robin.

You scramble to reach over the car’s middle console, hands rummaging through the paper bags on the floor in the back until you find the smooth glass neck of a bottle.

The rum burns your throat on the way down with the first swig, but the edge is taken off soon after with a couple more swallows – the familiar warmth settling into your skin once you’ve polished off about a quarter of the bottle. You curl up into your seat, tucking your legs into your coat and holding the bottle of rum close to your chest.

Distracted by the fuzzy feeling seeping into your head and thoughts of which picture of you they’d use to announce your death on the local news, you don’t notice the sound of a truck approaching or its headlights shining across the back of your car.

Maybe Robin will give them a good one of you on vacation together in The Bahamas last year. God, you wish you’d gone somewhere warm instead.

You almost jump out of your skin, letting out an involuntary squeak when someone knocks on your window. Barely making out the shape of a man with wild hair through the condensation that had fogged up the glass.

“You alright in there?”

Please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer.

You open the car door and step out on shaky legs, almost stacking it when your feet are swallowed by a much thicker blanket of snow than you were expecting. The man reaches out to steady you, his hands engulfing your forearms as you look up at your rescuer. Or potential downfall. A black beanie covers the top of his head but does little to protect the rest of his wild curls that fall across his shoulders from the still falling snow. You briefly take note of the blue coveralls with a name sewn in red thread across his heart, before you’re sucked in by the worried look in his brown doe eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, stuttering when you try and speak, gesturing to the car behind you and then to the road. “I–the car, there was a–and then, the ice just sort of…”

The stranger straightens up, the warmth from his hands leaving you as he eyes you wearily, “You been drink driving?”

“What? No! God, no…I–I,” you take a deep breath, trying to compose the thoughts that were tumbling too fast out of your mouth. God, he was pretty. “After I realised I wasn’t going anywhere,” you point to the front of the car, barely visible from the snow piled around it, “I may have opened a bottle of rum to keep warm.”

He scoffs a little meanly, “You realise that’s not how it works right? You actually lose heat faster when you’re drunk.”

A tingling warmth crawls up your neck at his scolding and you shrug, “Well, I thought if I was gonna die I might as well do it with a good buzz.”

He squints at you, his stare stony and you can’t tell what you’ve done to warrant this level of offence from a total stranger. Was he helping you or not? “You’re not from around here are you?”

You straighten up reflexively, shoulders going back in defence, “What makes you say that?”

He gestures vaguely to all of you, “Well, apart from the fact that you ooze city girl,” you frown, “it’s a small town. I woulda remembered you if you grew up here.”

He didn’t say it with a smirk or a sly look at your body. You knew it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Not a ‘you’re so pretty I would’ve remembered you’ but a ‘you stand out in all the wrong ways’.

“Okay, um,” you look around and notice his truck parked behind him, disbelief painting your face when you turn back to him and take in the ‘Munson Motors’ patch on the other side of his name. “Would you be able to help me?”

He answers with a frown as if the question itself is offensive. He has a tow truck and you're stranded on the side of the road in below-zero conditions. Of course, he’s going to help you.

Eddie, goes straight to work hooking up your car to the back of his truck, pulling it out of the snowbank and parking off to the side of the road again as you stand out of the way and watch, shivering now that the freezing outside air has begun to sober you up.

When he jumps back out of the truck to check your car is secure, he clears his throat, speaking to you like he's continuing a conversation, “How long you been out here?”

Your breath catches in a cloud of condensation as you exhale. “What’s the time?”

He pulls back the blue fabric of his left sleeve to check his watch, “Quarter past six.”

“Oh, um…a couple of hours I think.” It had been 45 minutes.

He nods as he gives a chain one final tug. “Guess no one’s come past ‘cause it’d be dumb to drive around in these conditions.”

You had to hold back from reflexively rolling your eyes. Here comes the mansplain.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be driving without chains on your tires.”

You huff, “Well, it’s not my car and I was only popping out to the store to get some groceries…an–and I got lost and then a deer just–” You wave your hand across the road stumbling over your words as the stupidly pretty tow truck driver turns to you and raises his eyebrows. “Forget it.” You sighed, “Is the car gonna be alright?”

Eddie licks his bottom lip, his intense gaze starting to heat you up again as he slowly nods. “The car will be fine. I can drop you and it off if you’ve got an address for me in town.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

***

A sigh leaves you as the warmth of the truck cab engulfs you, the smell of tobacco and the black ice magic tree hanging from the rearview mirror, along with something woodsy surrounding you on the inhale.

“Where to?” Eddie plops himself into the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the road as you give him Robin’s parent's address.

The ride there is mostly quiet, aside from the low hum of a Black Sabbath song coming out of the speakers, and you get the feeling Eddie the tow truck guy doesn’t take well to city girls getting themselves into sticky situations on his roads. You’re starting to feel a little silly yourself as the rum buzz well and truly wears off. This was a little too damsel in distress-y for your liking. You were an independent woman for god sake, the best solution you could come up with was getting drunk before an incredibly well-timed, handsome local had to come to your rescue?

As soon as Eddie pulls up to the curb he’s jumping out of the truck, clearly not wanting to spend another minute in awkward silence. You were never really good at small talk.

It isn’t until the passenger side door slams behind you that you notice the yelling.

“Oh my god! I thought you were for sure dead!”

Robin almost knocks you onto the sidewalk when she slams into you.

“Oh, I was so worried! I kept telling my dad, I think I told her the wrong directions. I told you to turn right on Maple when you should have turned left–“Her arms flail about in the air as she rambles in a panic and you just smile at her.

“Rob, I’m fine. I got to the shops okay in the end, it was getting back that was the problem. Then this deer ran out in front of me and I lost control when I swerved.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost killed you. You haven’t even been in town a full day!” She squishes your cheeks in between her hands, and you laugh.

Once she’s satisfied that you’re okay, she turns to Eddie as he walks up to the both of you. “Thanks for bringing my girl back alive Munson.” Robin beams and you notice Eddie’s eyes darting between the both of you, things clicking into place before she tackles him with a hug.

“Nice to see ya Buckley.” You hear Eddie mumble something into Robin’s hair and she laughs.

Figures. He was that Eddie. The metalhead with a heart of gold. Fantasy nerd that you were “going to love.” Obviously, your mind hadn’t immediately associated the grumpy tow truck driver Eddie with the one you’d heard hundreds of stories about, the one that was supposed to be warm and quick to welcome outsiders. Maybe it was just you?

“The car’ll be fine. Might just take a little while to warm up next time you go to start it, but if you have any issues just drop it by the shop.” He speaks directly to Robin as if it were her that he’d just rescued from the side of the road.

She thanked him with an affectionate punch to the shoulder and you tried to catch his eye before he turned away.

“Thanks again, for uh–for your help.”

He just nods, eyes briefly making contact with yours before they flit away again and he walks back to his truck.

“Don’t let her get lost again. It’s only gonna get colder over the next week.” He shouts before he slams his door shut behind him.

You turn to Robin who’s cheerily waving him off.

“Cold-er? It gets cold-er?!”

***

5 Days 'Til Christmas

“This is ridiculous.” Condensation forms around your huffs of breath, Jack Frost nipping at the tip of your nose and cheeks as you pull your coat tighter around you, stumbling slightly on the icy ground.

“The only thing ridiculous is your dress sense.” Robin giggles, pausing to let you catch up with her, arm linking with your own as you cross the car park together.

“This is my favourite coat.” You pout.

She shakes her head, “I know it is. And I know how much it cost, but we need to get you something sturdier and some thermals or something.” Her free hand rubs the thin, expensive material on your shoulder.

“Maybe, we should just stop leaving the house.” You grumble, causing Robin to knock her shoulder against yours.

“C’mon! I know we’re meeting everyone in a couple of days, but when Steve told me Jonathan and Nance we’re going to be at the bar tonight as well I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity for you to meet the grown-ups first.”

“Aren’t the kids at college now?”

You’d learnt a lot about Robin’s chosen family over the years. Having met Steve multiple times when he came to visit her in the city and been regaled by countless stories of the trouble they’d all gotten up to in high school.

“Yeah, but they’re not legal drinking age yet and it’ll be much easier meeting everyone else without them around trust me.”

The Hideout definitely wasn’t anything like the bars you frequented in the city, and you couldn’t help thinking about where you were a week ago – an office Christmas party that involved two-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne and coke in the marbled bathrooms – as your weather inappropriate shoes found the sticky floor and your nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell, eyes wandering over the small crowd of mostly old men hunched over their half-empty drinks.

“Charming,” you murmur, Robin’s arm tightening its hold on you upon seeing her best friend waving at the both of you across the room.

“Hey dingus,” She ruffles Steve’s hair as you approach the group sitting around a small wooden table.

“Hey numbnut.” He was quick to push his hair back, everything but a lonely strand falling back into perfect place. Robin took an empty chair, while Steve captured you in a much-needed embrace, greeting you warmly and without a childish nickname.

He kept an arm around your shoulder as he introduced you to the three other occupants of the table. You shake Nancy and Jonathan’s hand, smiling at the way they held each other, but when you hold out your hand to their friend Argyle he just laughs and gets up to hug you with a “Come here my lil’ city slicker.” The scent of pineapple and pot clinging to you as you take a seat while Steve heads to the bar to get you and Robin a drink.

“Where’s Eddie?”

The pang that jolts you at Robin’s casual mention of her friend’s name is slightly concerning.

“He’s over there with the guys.” You follow Jonathan’s gesture to a group of boys standing next to a makeshift stage at the far end of the bar. A tousle of brown waves in a leather jacket stands with his back to you with three others dressed much the same, all drinking beer and laughing. You couldn’t see his face, but even from here you notice his shoulders look more relaxed than he was during your encounter yesterday.

Maybe you’d get to see the “warm” Eddie now that he wasn’t having to haul your car out of the snow.

Steve returns to your table with drinks and takes the seat next to you, reaching over your shoulders to pinch Robin when she complains about hers not having enough ice before letting his arm relax around you. Steve had seamlessly fit himself into your life when you first met just as he always did in any situation, and you knew that he could sense your nerves about meeting the rest of the group. You just hoped he didn’t pick up on any nerves about the presence of one in particular.

“Nice of you to join us Buckley.”

You tense as Eddie appears at the table and Steve squeezes your shoulder, smirking into his drink.

Never fucking mind.

“Oh my god, you guys I have to tell you all about Eddie’s hero moment yesterday!”

As Robin captures the attention of the group with a dramatic retelling of yesterday’s events, your eyes wander to your reluctant rescuer. He was yet to acknowledge your existence, only rubbing his neck and blushing when praise was thrown his way. His attention is mostly on Robin’s theatrics before it shifts, and you notice his gaze land on something by your shoulder. You look down at Steve’s hand still resting there and when you look back up your eyes catch shining, dark chocolate ones.

You’re the first to break the spell, eyes quickly landing on the table, unable to hold his intense stare.

When Robin finishes her story you excuse yourself to get another drink, having nervously gulped yours down already and you pass Steve on your way back to the table.

“Hey, can you give these to Eddie? He’s just outside. I need to take a leak, thanks.” He walks away quickly, leaving you with a packet of cigarettes in your hand.

***

Eddie stands with his back to you, leaning against the brick of the bar as you exit the swinging door, a blast of arctic air hitting you as you immediately wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey.”

He spins around at the sound of your voice.

“Uh, Steve said you needed to borrow a smoke?” You hold up the pack.

He stares at you for a second before he lifts an unlit cigarette in between his fingers.

“I’m all good. Bummed one off Gareth.”

You nod and shove the carton in your coat pocket.

“You smoke?”

“God no, I value my lungs. These are Steve’s.” You shake your head and Eddie raises his eyebrows, pausing in his motion to light the cigarette now pursed between his lips, the yellow flame from his scuffed bic lighter flickering in the chilled breeze.

He releases his thumb from the lighter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and frowning at it.

“So uh, I didn’t expect you and Buckley to show up tonight.”

You grip your coat tighter around you, it’s far too cold to be out here but you’re pleasantly surprised that he’s initiating conversation with you. “Oh yeah, Robin dragged me out of the house to come see some lame band. Personally, I think it’s too cold to do anything other than drink tea under a pile of blankets but–“

“Robin said they were lame?”

“What?”

“The band playing here tonight, she said they were lame?”

“No, she just mentioned that they’re here every Tuesday,” you look up at the neon signage hanging above the door, missing a ‘d’ with a barely flickering ‘o’ and shrug, “I figured–“

“Hey, Ed!” One of the boys Eddie had been standing with earlier pops his head out of the bar door, giving you a curt nod when you turn around. “You ready? We’re on in two.”

“Yeah, just give us a sec.”

The boy disappears back behind the door and you screw your eyes shut. Of course it was his band.

“Shit, Eddie I’m sor–“

“You always just say things without thinking?” His arms are crossed, eyes squinting at you in that offended disbelief that seemed to be reserved just for you and your big mouth.

You sigh, “Only around you apparently.”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Why’s that city girl?”

The nickname could almost pass as a term of endearment, the way it comes out of him in a drawl if it wasn’t for your terrible first and second impressions preceding you.

You shake your head, “Never mind. I’m gonna–“ You point your thumb behind your shoulder, “Yeah,” and walk back inside before you manage to say anything else idiotic, Eddie grinning after your retreating form.

***

You watch Eddie thrash about on stage under the haze of a couple of shots, needing a little liquid courage before you could throw yourself back into socialising – at least you seemed to be getting along with the rest of the group.

His skin was glowing with sweat under the cheap yellow stage lights, leather jacket abandoned so you could now see the tattoos peaking out from under his tattered old band shirt. One that hugged his biceps as they flexed with the ferocity of his guitar playing. Holy shit.

When he jumps off stage and approaches his friends, you can’t take your eyes off the damp hair that sticks to his neck and forehead.

“You guys were amazing.”

He bows his head at your compliment. The two of you now slightly off to the side of the rest of the group as they figure out whose round it is. “Not lame then?”

“No,” you shake your head, “no, I shouldn’t have–that was shitty of me to judge without hearing you. To judge, full stop. I’m not like that normally. I know you think I’m just some city girl who’s completely out of touch but I’m just–I got a bit nervous about meeting you all and making a good impression for Robin. I’m sorry.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “S’nothin’ to apologise for. Not like we’re playing The Garden or anything.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You frown, “You’re great–I mean the band are great–I can tell that you all love playing up there no matter the audience. That’s what’s important.”

“Thanks.” His soft tone and doe eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You look away, burning up under his attention again.

“You’re welcome.”

“We’re playing pool now, I need you on my team c’mon.” Robin wraps her arms around you and drags you away before Eddie gets the chance to keep you talking.

***

“Wait, Steve! You’re not driving?” You cringe at Robin’s slurred volume as she shouts across the small car park, thankful this isn’t a residential area.

“Pfft no! I’ve had way too many. I’m going in Nance’s car.” She glares at her best friend as he follows Jonathan and Argyle, waving her off.

“How are we getting home?!” She raises her arms in exasperation and turns to you as if you’d be able to offer a solution, the creaking of the bar door opening behind you grabbing both of your attention as Eddie steps out. He stops short, car keys coming to a halt mid-swing when he notices eyes on him.

“Eddieeee.” Robin sing-songs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. His eyebrow quirks up. “Fancy dropping off two gorgeous young girls and making sure they get home safe?” She leans her head into yours and you giggle.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, get in.”

Robin turns away abruptly to head towards his van, leaving you to stumble without the support, Eddie’s warm hands brace your arms before you even have time to think.

“You good?”

You nod, “Had a lot to drink.”

He huffs a laugh as you sway, breath stuttering when you look up at him, “Yeah, you did.”

The snow that falls around you two lands softly on your face, melting in your hair and on your eyelashes as you crinkle your nose.

“It’s so cold.”

He licks his bottom lip, “Right, right let’s get you home yeah?”

***

Despite Robin’s clumsy nature she always manages to stay light on her feet when she’s drunk. So, by the time Eddie pulls up to the Buckley residence she’s shooting out of the van, cackling at her own joke while you’re still trying to undo your seatbelt. Eddie tells you to stay still before he jogs to the passenger side and unhooks you, holding onto your arm as you step down onto the ground on wobbly legs.

“Where’s Robin?” You look around, the front yard frosted in snow that’s warmed by yellow fairy lights hanging around the edges of the house, but noticeably void of your charmingly sassy friend.

“She’s already inside. Here, let me get you to the door.”

His hands help steady you, guiding you to safety up the icy path, one stretching over your lower back the other holding your elbow. You hadn’t noticed his rings before now, silver glinting under the lights now directly above you as you walk up to the front porch. These hands adorned in skulls seemed to keep coming to your rescue. But you don’t need some hot tow truck, sexy guitarist guy coming to your rescue. You’re a capable, independent woman.

You feel Eddie’s breath on the back of your neck when he laughs softly.

“You think I’m sexy huh?”

You frown as you stop at the front door, shaking your head “What, why would you think that?”

“’Cause you just said it.”

“Out loud?!”

He snickers as you bury your face in your hands, “I have to stop drinking around you.”

Eddie bites his lip as you slip through the front door mumbling a good night and close it behind you without another glance at his smug face. He’s still smiling as he turns the ignition, the radio on low as Fairytale of New York fills his van with warmth. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head before pulling away from the curb, this fuzzy feeling in his chest not something that’s familiar to him.

“Fuck.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #towtruck!eddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #promptparty #she writes

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radiofreederry · 1 year

Text

Dorothy's Top 5 Games of 2023

2023 was a remarkable year for gaming. The number of major, high-quality releases was truly astonishing, both in the AAA and indie scenes.

2023 was also the year I started leaning more into gaming as a hobby, beginning to do Twitch streams in April. Because of this, I thought I'd go through a few of the best games I played this year, and talk a bit about what made them so enjoyable. Consider this my "games of the year" list, like I know so many people are going to be doing this year.

My list is reflective of my own preferences and tastes; I tend to play a lot of RPGs, action-adventure games, and platformers, so you won't find a lot of fighting games or shooters in contention here. Feel free to comment or reblog with your own list - you don't have to write little essays about everything like I did, but it'd be fun if you did!

Honorable Mentions:

Pentiment (Obsidian Entertainment): Released in November 2022, but didn't play until this year. One of the most gripping and original RPGs I've ever played.

Persona 5 Royal (P-Studio): Released in October 2022 for Xbox, but I've been streaming it and having a lot of fun with @lakemojave and others.

Katamari Damacy Reroll (Namco): Released in 2018 for Switch, but played it for the first time this year and had a blast.

And now, the list proper.

Fifth Place: Hi-Fi Rush (Tango Gameworks)

There was a sort of game prevalent in the sixth generation of consoles which doesn't exist much anymore outside of the indie space. These were bold, bright, games which were unapologetically "video gamey," and wore their medium on their sleeve. Playing Hi-Fi Rush, I felt as if I was Anton Ego eating the titular dish in Ratatouille, and being transported back to that forgotten era of gaming. Hi-Fi Rush is stylish, hilarious, and deliriously fun, mixing the rhythm and action genres to create an experience unlike anything else currently on offer in gaming.

With addicting timing-based combat, a killer soundtrack featuring a suite of certified bangers (such as a cover of "Free Radicals" by the Flaming Lips, one of my favorite bands), and a delightful cast of colorful characters, Hi-Fi Rush carries the off-beat spirit of games like Jet Set Radio and Viewtiful Joe in its DNA, and had it been made 20 years ago, I do not doubt that it would have an animated adaptation airing on Kids WB.

By evoking the spirit of a bygone era while remaining utterly unique, and by virtue of its slick presentation and impossible-to-put-down gameplay, Hi-Fi Rush manages to punch far above its own weight and snag fifth place on my list.

Fourth Place: A Highland Song (Inkle)

A Highland Song came out of nowhere at the tail-end of the year and forced me to completely reevalute my game rankings. It is one of the most delightful and charming games I've ever had the chance to play, and has managed to do what I thought was impossible: create a roguelike experience that I actually want to see through to completion.

A Highland Song does this through its emotive embrace of the Scottish Highlands as a setting, with those ancient hills acting as both the main antagonist and a stalwart companion in main character Moira's journey to cross the mountains and reach her uncle's lighthouse by the First of May.

The Highlands are your dear friend. They will provide you food, shelter, and the tools you need to complete your journey. The Highlands are your worst enemy. They will deny you a safe haven when you're exhausted, out of energy, and being soaked through by torrential, bitterly-cold rain; they will give you tools long after you've passed the point where they would have been useful. The hills will preserve you. The hills will kill you.

It is in these contrasts that A Highland Song shines. It is a game about finding yourself, and pushing forward in the face of impossible adversity. There is an indescribable joy to spending days in-game exploring a section of the Highlands, trying to find the way forward, and finally running through one of the game's rhythm-based sections, triumphant Celtic folk music blaring in your ears as you finally find your way. All the while, Uncle Hamish's warm, fond recollections of Celtic folklore and Moira's descriptions of her family life make you want to push on, to learn more about this magical place and the people who inhabit it.

You will not make it to the sea in time in your first run through A Highland Song, nor likely your second or third. Yet each time Moira passes through the mountains, you learn more about them, become more familiar with the slopes and pathways that carve through these lands that are older than time. You will stumble, you will fall, and then, eventually, you will make it to the sea by Beltane.

Third Place: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (Nintendo EPD)

How do you follow up one of the most important and well-regarded games of the 2010s, improve almost everything about it, and even correct its flaws? Tears of the Kingdom manages that and then some. The direct sequel to 2017's Breath of the Wild, Tears of the Kingdom follows that game's version of series lead Link through a melancholy journey through a world ravaged by unnatural weather, blight, and time. Link is himself nearly torn apart by the corrupting influence of returning series antagonist Ganondorf (voiced in this installment in fine fashion by Matt Mercer), and the hastily replaced arm granted to him by the sage Rauru grants him new abilities, which replace and improve upon the ones he possessed in the last game.

With these new powers, the game becomes a truly open sandbox. Link is able to build almost anything with his Ultrahand ability, and the Fuse ability not only virtually eliminates the previous game's major flaw, its weapon durability system, by allowing the player to turn virtually any weapon top-tier by properly leveraging fusion materials, it also creates a resource management loop that discourages being stingy with strong resources - since they can be used to create very powerful weapons. Meanwhile, the Ascend and Recall abilities open new avenues in traversal and speed up exploration through Tear's of the Kingdom's massive map, which not only uses the previous game's world map as a base - with lots of altered and added locations to signify the passage of time, including a host of explorable caves - but more than doubles it by also adding floating islands in the sky and a dark, hostile undergound below.

The intense focus on exploration, not to mention some of the best dungeons and bosses in Zelda history, make this a game I had genuine trouble putting down at times as I sunk hundreds of hours into it, as I always felt like there was something new to find around the next corner, or some new treasure to find deep in the underground. Tears of the KIngdom is a masterclass in crafting an open world experience, and easily secures a spot in my top five. It only places so low on this list as a consequence of some blemishes on an otherwise extremely polished and technically impressive product - specifically its story and progression, which feels too much like retreading the structure of Breath of the Wild and not enough like it's blazing its own trail.

Second Place: Cyberpunk 2077 (CD Projekt Red)

Let's get this out of the way first: Cyberpunk 2077 originally released, infamously, in late 2020 in what was essenitally an unfinished state. However, with its 2.0 update that fundamentally restructures how the game is played, as well as the massive Phantom Liberty expansion dropping this year, I feel comfortable regarding this game as a 2023 release.

I didn't expect to have Cyberpunk 2077 on this list. I certainly didn't expect to see it so high on this list. And yet, here it is. I went in with almost no expectations, and came out with one of my favorite games of the year, and one of the most thoughtful RPGs of the decade. Cyberpunk 2077's great strengths lie in its richly detailed game world and its extremely strong writing, both of which impressed me beyond any preconceptions I may have had, especially given how the game originally launched as a broken, buggy mess.

Cyberpunk 2077's Night City is as fully realized a game world as I've ever seen, brimming with detail and things to both see and do. It is incredibly immersive, and I often found myself forgoing the game's fast travel system in order to simply cruise the moody, neon-soaked streets on my motorcycle as I sped from one gig to the next, taking in little details like the ethnic enclaves in different districts, or how infrastructure differed in poor areas compared to rich ones.

Cyberpunk 2077 tells a story about struggling against impossible odds, and finding hope and beauty in a hopeless and ugly world. In a future where capitalism's atomization and hyperindividualization rend the flesh of society at-large, the life of protagonist V is enriched through the human connections they are able to make as they race against time to save themselves from the biochip in their head eating away at their existence - a piece of technology stolen and then impulsively inserted during their first big job, a job taken in pursuit of the ephemeral and ambiguous glory that comes with being a legend of Night City. Their deteriorating condition throughout the game, and the ever-present acidic commentary of rockerboy Johnny Silverhand, serve as constant reminders of the folly of chasing such impermanent glory.

Whether it's Johnny's former bandmate Kerry, whose insecurities lead him to ostentatious acts of violence and destruction, or Judy, who has suffered loss after loss and desperately tries to find a situation she can control and someone who won't use or leave her, my journey as V centered around finding these connections, and using them not only to save V's life, but preserve her humanity. These themes carried through with the Phantom Liberty expansion, which explores such topics as freedom, survivor's guilt, and governmental corruption and exploitation, and features a delightful turn by Idris Elba as a weary government agent burdened by regret. There are plenty of bombastic setpieces, cleverly-written quests, and moments of intense action, but the things I think I'll always remember are quiet, intimate, human moments, from sitting with and comforting a girl whose girlfriend just killed herself, or meditating with a monk who has no ulterior motive but to bring V a rest in the midst of a grueling situation.

All that to say that while I had a lot of fun with the gameplay, the game world and the writing were what made me fall in love with Cyberpunk 2077, what will likely keep me coming back to the game on replay, and what landed it at number two on the list. The only reason it didn't end up at number one was because there's just one game I played this year which impressed me just that much more - and even then, it’s a thin margin.

First Place: Baldur's Gate 3 (Larian Studios)

Here I must confess not only have I never played the original Baldur's Gate games - early works by BioWare, a company whose work I generally respect - I had until this year never touched Dungeons and Dragons or any ancillary media. Total blind spot! Never even saw the movie this year! I'd played plenty of tabletop, but never any DnD.

What a treat, then, to be introduced to the world and mechanics of DnD through such a game as Baldur's Gate 3. This game glistens with careful and thoughtful design, and proves the vibrancy and potential that still remains in the classic CRPG style. Baldur's Gate 3's great strengths shine in two major areas, which I will go in more detail about now.

Firstly, the game offers a truly remarkable amount of freedom to the player in allowing them to resolve a situation in a myriad of ways, emulating the flexible nature of tabletop storytelling to an extent I've rarely seen in the video game medium. Want to defeat a boss that's giving you grief by running up to him and shoving him off a cliff? Sure, that works! Want to stealthily surround an enemy camp with explosive barrels and then cast fireball? Ok, go for it!

The other side of this coin is that the game permits a lot of flexibility in permitting the player to truly fuck up royally, while keeping the narrative going and not forcing them into a game over because they "played wrong." Took too long to save some gnomes from a cave-in? Too bad, they suffocated to death! Allowed an important NPC, whose spell was protecting a community from a curse, to be defeated in battle and captured? Tough luck, all those people have died a horrible, agonizing death! It's your fault! Now keep moving. In Baldur's Gate 3, all of your decisions, good or bad, have consequences, and you have to live with them.

Baldur's Gate 3's other great strength lies in its character writing. Every major character, and many minor characters, are written with such depth and nuance, with varied motivations, backstories, and moral alignments, which the player can both influence and be influenced by. Notable standouts include Astarion, the cynical vampire whose acid tongue is a defense mechanism to not let anyone get too close and who delights in thumbing his nose at others and seeking power for himself, but who can be guided towards a more empathetic and caring place; and Shadowheart, the cleric of the dark goddess Shar who finds herself torn between what she sees as her duty to her goddess and what she knows deep down to be the right thing to do.

Every character in Baldur's Gate 3 has a story to tell, and they're all good ones. That alone would land it on this list, but combined with the astonishing freedom it allows players and its infinite replayability rocket it to the top spot. Baldur's Gate 3 is my game of the year.

#long post #game of the year #goty #cyberpunk 2077 #baldur's gate 3 #tears of the kingdom #hi fi rush #my writing #star wars

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strawbs-screaming · 3 months

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what i think your favorite PO boxer says about you

based on my biases and a year of experience (if you get mad over how i talked about your fave im going to turn you into a can of spam)

first time ive ever maxed out the tags

if i missed your fav tell me ‼️

doc louis - you have good taste and are starving for content about him, you really are a survivor

little mac - you either project onto him or just like calling him your son

glass joe - you have a thing for pathetic men (understandable tbh) and like calling him a wet cat since he fits that desc well

von kaiser - same thing as joe but add a hint of "oh no hes hot"

disco kid - you literally have no enemies i love you so much its not even funny (platonic)

king hippo - my god you are good at making up lore, how the fuck do you make a solid personality for a character that only roars and grunts

piston hondo - im 100% youre a saint, no hondo fan i met has ever been unpleasant to talk with

bear hugger - you either see him as a father figure or just think hes hot or (secret third option) you like making jokes about him being a disney princess, either way youre cool

great tiger - oh you have been here for a long time, literally every great tiger fan i know has been in the fandom since 7.000 BC or something, also youre prob really good at art

don flamenco - you use the word "cunty" on a daily basis or just like making fun of his stupid bald head, also yes he has eyeliner on 100%

aran ryan - you'd overthrow a goverment for this greasy rat, youre extremely extremely gay and/or neurodivergent and thats very good for you, you also like making him say lad and have had to go ankle deep in irish slang when making him speak in fanfics

soda popinski - ive never seen someone have soda as their fav, hes always 2nd place somehow so im just gonna go take a shot in the dark and say you like the color pink (mental gymnastics who??)

bald bull - you are a mixed bag, i gen cant put a finger on what kind of personality bull stans have but i can say you either find him hot or like making fun of him, maybe both

super macho man - least serious people ever with some traumatizing lore for the boxers & their own ocs, you prob make him say bogus 88268292 times in a sentence and i can respect that

mr sandman - ive only seen 2 (two ) ppl who have him as their fav and its kinda sad, youre starving for content of him and i wish you the best

birdie mac - hes your son (im not elaborating)

gabby jay - same thing as joe but you went over the top with liking dilfs

narcis prince - gay. gay gay homosexual gay. you went for the self obsessed blonde twink and you thought it wasnt obvious?? you fucking homosexual

heike kagero - youre 1000% queer, sorry to be a broken record about the gay thing but ur fav is literally a man with long hair & makeup that has to be some flavor of queer

hoy quarlow - you are/were another ancient punch out fan, you def shitpost a lot

bruiser bros - where are you??? ive gen never met a bruiser bros fan and its concerning like dude where did u go

texas mac - im sorry but you dont exist, ive never ever seen a texas mac fan, not even someone who mentions him

mad clown - you foul clownfucker. you have weird taste in characters you find hot and tbh im all here for it

masked muscle - same thing as texas mac but theres a slight chance you exist, if you do please show yourself

dragon chan - another punch out ancient fan, you probably were most active in 2013-2019 and kinda miss old shitposts and have either moved on or dont participate much anymore

spo aran - (this is mostly for Charlie but i have hope that theres some other spo aran fans out there) youre probably looking for other spo aran fans, goodpeed soldier, goodpeed

mask x - you arent getting away with this fuck you

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peachfridges · 2 years

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five times they almost got caught (and one time they did)

request from @soapmeup

Hello! I saw your requests are open and I am in desperate need of some Soap fics. You can write whatever you want I just want more of him!!!

cw: pre-established relationship, slight smut but poor soap keeps getting cockblocked, mentions of injury but nothing graphic, mentions of ptsd, vomiting, nightmares, gaz lives, soap being a flirt despite the circumstances, fluff, swearing, soap and the reader are so in love.

pairing: john ‘soap’ mactavish x soldier! reader.

word count: 2.7k

notes: i love soap so incredibly much and had so much fun writing this! i adore this theme of one-shots so i just had to attempt it. sorry for the late post, i tried to rush it to get it out this week but it was so hard coming up with different scenarios for each one and trying to flesh them out made it even harder.

[one]

"no one's going to see us y/n." soap promised. you didn't believe him one bit. there was no way in hell that not a single person would come down this corridor.

"really now?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at him. a grin settled on his face. whilst you loved his smile, now was not a good time to see it. it was the same grin he always gave you when he was about to do something stupid. the same 'shit-eating' grin, as ghost had fashioned it after a few drinks in a nearby bar after a mission, that usually ended up with soap injured during a mission.

"really. no one will see us, and you won't have to worry about anyone snitching on us to the Lt. or to the captain." your boyfriend replied.

now, let's put the record straight. you didn't care if your superiors found out. realistically, you knew they couldn't give two fucks. what you did care about, however, was the way you would get incessantly made fun of by them. you were well aware of the fact that if gaz or roach ever found out, you would never be able to live it down.

soap pushed you up against the wall and kissed you. a smile graced your features as you kissed him back. you longed for affection from him, but with your places on task force 141, it was hard to find the time when you didn't know the next place you'd be sent on a mission. his hands held your waist, as one of yours found its way to his hair. the kiss grew deeper as your lips moulded against one another, soap's hand moving its way up your shirt towards your covered breast. a light moan escaped your lips. soap's grin returned, and he was about to move his other hand elsewhere until you heard footsteps coming towards your location.

you quickly pushed soap away, just in time as price walked up to you both. you didn't miss the opportunity to send a sharp glare towards the scotsman next to you.

"everything okay?" price asked, as if your swollen lips and flushed cheeks didn't give at least some incentive as to what had just been happening.

"just peachy, sir." johnny's thick scottish accent prominent as he replied. after a quick glance between the two of you, price had decided he didn't want to know what events he had just narrowly escaped.

"very well." the captain walked away, leaving you and soap alone. you punched his arm, causing the man to let out a yelp.

"okay, okay! maybe some people do come down here. note taken."

[two]

a mission never did run smoothly, as you had quickly discovered after your first few with the 141. you, ghost, and soap were meant to be in and out, a simple 'retrieve the evidence' as laswell had described it. what hadn't been anticipated was just how many members of the drug cartel was going to be there. this was evident when, just as ghost was about to declare that the floor was 'clear', at least four more shooters came at the three of you and managed to get a shot at soap.

"fuck!" ghost shouted, immediately getting to cover and taking shots at them as you moved johnny out of the way of the firing bullets. offering a few deadly shots at the enemy yourself, you returned to face johnny, who had a hand over his leg where the bullet had hit him. after getting a look at the wound, you quickly ascertained that his leg, and soap himself, would be fine, as long as the mission ended sooner rather than later (which was likely when you had ghost with you), and he was seen be a medic as soon as possible.

the wince adorning soap's face told you how much pain he was in, despite him trying to act fine. "soap, speak to me. can you walk?" you asked.

"course i can. might just need a bit of help is all." a chuckle escaped his lips. his face had gone that sickly pale colour, telling that he would soon lose consciousness due to the pain he was in.

"don't lie to me, searg."

"thought i was going to get away with it that time, lass."

having disposed of the cartel members that had ambushed the three of you, ghost made his way over to the two of you.

"i'll find what we need. stay here with johnny until i get back." ghost ordered before walking into the next room, where you had been told the evidence should be located. you turned your attention back to johnny, who was sat up but slumped against the wall you had moved him to.

his eyes met yours, "want to go out for drinks when we get back to base?"

you laughed dryly, "think you might need a bit of time to recover before we go out."

"ah, worth a try." soap hissed in pain as he tried to relieve some weight off of his injured leg. you adjusted your position to apply pressure to his bullet wound, kissing the top of his head as you did so. ghost walked in, holding the hard drive up, assumingly with the evidence on it. panic set in yours and johnny's eyes, had ghost just seen that? he would say something if he had, right?

"let's move," was all ghost said, walking over to you both and hoisting johnny up so you both could help him out.

apparently not.

[three]

after a long mission, price had decided that it would be good for you all to go down to a bar to rewind. alejandro, rodolfo and kate had decided to join you all, as well as ghost and gaz obviously.

the bar was owned by an ex-cia agent who had worked with laswell, so you all had the place to yourself. the liquor you had been steadily drinking for a few hours now was finally going to your head, and it was clear that the others were in a similar position.

gaz and price were sat at the bar with laswell. ghost, alejandro and rodolfo were in a booth a few away from where you and soap were stationed. you were sat close enough to each other that you could feel his hand hold onto yours, but not so close that it could give anyone, especially ghost, an idea about your relationship.

you looked towards johnny, a soft smile on his lips as you locked eyes. “you’re beautiful,” he whispered, low enough for you to hear. you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks.

“you think?” you replied.

“i do. i’m so lucky to be with you.”

“you’re right about that.” a smirk covered your mouth as johnny rolled his eyes playfully.

in your peripheral vision, you noticed price looking at ghost, nodding towards you and soap. ghost must have indicated some sort of reply, because price let a silent laugh wash over him before turning back towards laswell and gaz.

what was that about?

[four]

as expected, the mission to capture hassan had gone horribly wrong. now, here you were, your wrists bound by a rope behind your back and hassan in front of you.

“you think you can stop me?” hassan shouted at you. you would be lying if you said you weren’t fearful, but you refused to give hassan the satisfaction of seeing it. there were three other iranian soldiers in the room with you. you kept silent as hassan continued, coming up to you as he spoke. “we are not attacking, we are invading.”

hassan grabbed you as a bullet collided with one of the soldiers. the door swung open as bullets were fired around you and hassan. before you knew it, the soldiers were dead and you had a gun pressed against your temple. hassan faced you towards the two british men who had came to your rescue: simon riley and john mactavish. ghost, as always, seemed calm, but even his eyes gave away his slight panic. soap on the other hand? he looked like he was out for blood.

“let her go or we shoot.” ghost demanded. hassan chuckles.

“why should i not just shoot her now?” he pressed the gun harder into your head, causing you to wince from the sharp pain. “you put your guns down and let me leave. she will go free.”

soap and ghost looked at each other in deliberation. “do not compromise the mission for me.” you told them. the mission above all else was more important than your life - you had to save the people you were serving. you knew ghost shared your sentiments, which is why you were so shocked when he followed johnny’s movements in placing their guns on the floor.

hassan let go of you as johnny pulled out his pistol and shot hassan through his heart. the iranian fell dead as soap came over to you and cut the binds from your wrists. “are you okay?” worry was laced through your boyfriend’s tone.

“could be better.” you answered, pain shooting through your body from the numerous wounds you had received from hassan’s men. “thank you.”

“what kind of a man would i be if i didn’t save such a beautiful woman?”

“and that’s enough. soap, help y/n. alejandro is bringing a vehicle to get us away from here.” soap grinned at ghost’s evident uncomfort, living for the satisfaction of annoying the significantly taller man.

soap helped you to your feet, putting an arm under yours to support you. you let him take most of your weight, unable to walk properly due to a deep gash to your leg you had sustained. “we’ll get you straight to a medic when we’re back at base.”

all you could do was nod. you could feel consciousness slipping away from you, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from drooping shut.

when you awoke, you saw you were back in base and in the clinic. you turned to your left and saw soap sat in the chair next to the bed you were lying in, filling in some reports. you moved your hand towards his and he held it, looking up at you. “you’re finally awake, huh?”

you let out a soft ‘mm’, signifying that he was correct.

“they left some nasty hits on you, medic patched you up though. said you should be ready for action within a week as long as you rest.” soap informed you.

“good.” you paused for a moment before continuining, “flirting with me in front of the Lt. now?”

“i saw an opportunity and i had to take it.” he grinned and you let out a chuckle. johnny never did understand subtle, as you’d grown to realise.

[five]

it was 6:42am when you were awoken by the scottish man lying next to you suddenly jolting awake, panting to catch his breath.

you sit up and put a hand on his back that is greeted w a harsh flinch so you quickly move your hand away. “johnny, what’s wrong?” you ask.

“nothing, sorry.” his response was too quick for him to be telling the truth. you held his face and made him look at you and saw his eyes were glistened over.

you knew he was trying not to worry you, but his efforts were having the opposite effect. “please, talk to me. don’t shut me out.” you practically begged.

“had a nightmare. you, um,” he took a shaky breath before continuing, “i saw your dead body. me and Lt. hadn’t got there in time to save you. hassan had killed you and escaped.”

“i’m right here. hassan didn’t kill me and you saved me. i’ll always be right here next to you whether you like it or not.” soap chuckled softly at your end remark.

“that’s true, lass.” his breathing was calming down.

you smile softly. you knew johnny struggled with what he had seen in missions, all of you did. however, you also knew he had a tendency to let it pent up until it became too much as he didn’t want to hastle anyone.

“you can always talk to me about any fears you have. you know that, don’t you?” you questioned.

“i do. i’m sorry.” he rested his forehead against your own, presumably looking for comfort and to ensure you were in fact next to him, and not his imagination in case the dream was real.

“don’t ever be sorry. i love you, so, so much. promise me you’ll remember that.”

“i promise. i love you,” he kissed you gently and you kissed him back. the kiss was long but sweet, something you know he needed. he broke away and murmured, “when all of this is done and we have a bit of free time, i swear i’m going to marry you.”

you couldn’t help the grin that broke out. “is that a proposal?” you teased.

“i suppose it is.”

“i’d love to marry you, johnny.”

“well, i’d hope so.” you both laughed. the rare times where you could just act as if you were two normal people, not fighting in wars where you don’t know if your next breath will be your last, were moments you would remember forever - especially this one. “do you think they’ll care if we don’t make it to the meeting this morning and instead sleep in?”

“i doubt it.”

as you both lay back down and succumbed to sleep once again in each other’s arms, you failed to hear footsteps, belonging to a certain 6’6 man, walking away from the door where he was about to ensure soap was awake for the meeting.

[one]

ghost hadn’t stopped talking for what felt like hours. it had gotten to the point where you could probably recite tomorrow’s mission in your sleep. you hadn’t been paying attention for a while now, instead focussing on everyone’s stances.

gaz had his head leant on his hand, watching ghost but with no focus on the words leaving the masked man’s mouth. price was making notes, writing down everything that was said. it was a sharp juxtapose to soap, who was sat next to him, who you had only just noticed was staring at you.

you returned johnny’s gaze, smiling at him as he grinned back. it wasn’t until several moments later when you both turned to look back at ghost that you saw him glaring at the two of you.

before you could even ask what was wrong, ghost began speaking.

“are you two having a psychic conversation about your wedding or something?”

your jaw dropped and you could see gaz trying to smother his laughter.

“what the fuck, Lt.” soap couldn’t say anything else. you were both speechless.

“did you really think we didn’t know? it was painfully obvious.” price confirmed.

“we’ve all seen the way you look at each other. even alejandro and rudy noticed.” gaz explained. “plus the Lt. and captain have been keeping us updated on everything they’ve overheard or seen.”

“oh, so ghost is a gossip now?” you replied. you couldn’t believe it. had you really been that obvious?

“if that’s what you want to call it.” ghost was having too much fun over this and you knew it.

price spoke up once again, with you wishing he hadn’t. “can i request that next time you two want to have sex, please don’t do it in a corridor where people can walk past? we know you both share a room so please just use that, i don’t care if you ‘can’t wait’.”

you could feel your cheeks heating up. you knew you shouldn’t have trusted johnny about the corridor, and this is proof as to why.

“this is why none of you are being invited to the wedding.” soap interjected. you looked at him and playfully rolled your eyes, already knowing your fiancé would do everything in his power to get ghost to be his best man.

“i think you know we’ll be there, johnny.” ghost replied. “now that you two are paying attention, can we get back to discussing the mission?”

you both replied at the same time, sharing the sentiment of wanting no further embarrassment.

“yes, sir.”

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #call of duty #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #captain john price #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john price #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra

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