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eufezco · 1 year ago

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SUPER SHY - JOEL MILLER x FEM!READER

SUMMARY – when Joel's keeping you company while you're showering, he sees something he wasn't supposed to.

english isn't my first language <3 // this is pure SMUT

A/N – omg it's been so long but i literally have no inspiration so if anyone has any request... also, i've been writing for the walking dead, especially daryl, but that's still in my drafts because i don't know if there's anyone interested in that. ANYWAYS, i hope this isn't so bad

He didn't mind. He truly didn't care. He was sitting on the toilet, bent forward, with his elbows on his knees and one of his legs shaking out of impatience. It was true that he'd rather be doing other things but with a bit of luck you'd be done soon and he'd leave. Although he didn't have much to do either, he was sure they needed some last-minute people to patrol.

He had been sitting on that toilet every night for at least thirty minutes every time you took a shower. Since you lacked music, you needed some other type of distraction and Joel wasn't the best for it but it was your only option.

"What was the last movie you saw?"

"I don't know. I can't remember."

"I'm sure you do remember, you are just too lazy to think. For me, it was Spiderman, my brother took me to the movies but I don't remember enjoying it. What was yours?"

"I think it was Catch Me If You Can."

"Never heard of that."

Of course not, he said to himself. The sound of falling water made your voice sound fainter so he had to readjust his position to hear you better. His back was now against the toilet, he ran his hands over his face. It was starting to get a little hot inside the bathroom as well. Joel looked in your direction, trying to understand what you were saying but quickly looked away. Joel closed his eyes tightly and then opened them wide again without knowing what to do. When he leaned back and looked in your direction, he expected nothing, only the curtain that was hiding you, but instead, he found a perfect view of your round and wet ass.

Joel swallowed nervously and shook his head, trying to erase that image from his mind, but it was so perfect and the water slid so easily down it. No, no, no, fuck he mumbled, massaging his temples. The way his teeth would sink into your skin there, and they would mark your soft skin just right.

"Are you okay?" You peeked your head through the curtain. Your brow furrowed as you saw him looking away.

He nodded.

"Can you pass me the bathrobe, then?"

Fuck, you were doing this on purpose, he thought. He stood from the toilet and you waited behind the curtains. You went out of the shower wrapped in the robe.

"I'll leave so you can change." He announced. His eyes briefly looked away and moved down to your breasts covered by your bathrobe, he could see how hard your nipples were and how the drops of water slid down your cleavage. You raised your eyebrows and Joel never looked you in the face again. He tried to get out of the bathroom, ashamed enough already, when you blocked his way with your body.

"I saw you looking at me, Joel. You won't get away so easily."

He didn't know what to say. Should he apologize? Should he leave anyway? He'd been looking after you practically since this started, since you two met in the woods, the least he could do was apologize for looking at you in such an inappropriate way.

"When was the last time you saw a naked woman?"

Your question caught him off guard. Joel shook his head and took his eyes off you, knowing beforehand what you were about to do. The bathrobe slipped off your shoulders and Joel closed his eyes, not even daring to look at your reflection in the mirror. You couldn't be doing this to him, he was not like the boys you'd been hanging out in Jackson.

"Look at me."

He shook his head. You told him again and this time his eyes laid on yours. You flashed him a smile, how innocent sweet Joel.

"I want you to look at my body, Joel."

Joel called your name, shaking his head again and swallowing nervously.

"I know you want to do it, I saw how you looked at me before. I want you too, but this isn't going to work if you can't even look at me."

His eyes shyly moved from yours to your breasts. He took a glance and closed his eyes. You smiled victorious. You guided one of his hands to caress one side of your body. Joel dared to look at the path his hand was making through your body, how soft the skin of your waist felt against his rough fingers.

You led his hand to cup one of your tits. Your nipple immediately became hard on contact with his palm and your pussy was already clenching around nothing. You'd dreamed so many times about how would his touch feel, and he was barely applying any pressure, nor squeezing it or pinching your nipple, he was just holding your tit in his hand.

Your hand pinched his chin and made him look up at you. His eyes were bright, darker than you'd ever seen them before, and his pupils were big. You fluttered your lashes, inocently and your thumb caressed his lips. You came close enough to his mouth for your breaths to become one, you could feel his beard tickling your lips. You ran your tongue over his lips and he leaned in for a kiss, his lips were so soft and gentle against yours compared to the thick hair of his beard.

You pushed his shoulders and made him sit on the toilet again. His cock was so hard and ready for you, already leaking precum against the fabric of his underwear. He was still unsure about this, not because he didn't want to do it but because you were so beautiful and he was an old man that doubled your age, and his cock was so hard and already throbbing against his stomach, it was almost embarrassing.

Joel put both of his hands on your hips when you placed one of your legs on each side of his body. You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, giving it a couple of strokes and getting multiple groans from him. You could feel him twitching between your fingers. He was big, some black hairs like the ones on his head decorated the base of his cock and a prominent vein ran down its length, but the most important thing was, that he was thick. You could barely take it all in one hand, and you knew the stretch was going to be perfect.

You lined up his cock at your entrance, allowing only his tip to go inside you, and then you gently lowered yourself. One of your hands moved down to your clit and rub it to get used to the sensation of Joel filling you. He gave you all the time you needed but you were tight and he could feel his cock jumping inside you. Every time your fingers rubbed your clit your cunt clenched and squeezed him even harder.

"You good?" Joel asked, caressing one of your cheeks with the back of his hand. You nodded. "You sure? Oh, fuck-" He moaned when you started rolling your hips against his. Your movements were very delicate as your fingers continued working on your bundle of nerves, helping you to get even wetter and making it easy for you to take him. Joel could feel you dripping down the inside of his legs.

"Yeah, that's a good girl, fuck-" His eyes were locked on where you two connected although he could only see how his cock had completely disappeared inside your pussy. He was enjoying the way your tiny fingers played with your clit.

"Still good?" He asked again and you nodded. You suddenly stopped the movement of your hips against his and he was afraid that you'd hurt yourself. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, getting a firm grip there to help you lift your hips from his lap. You pulled him out of you, his cock glistening with your juices, and then you dropped yourself back down onto his cock.

A sharp moan came out of Joel's throat and his fingers sank into the flesh of your ass. You repeated that again and again, finally getting used to Joel's width and to the sting of him going inside you deeper and deeper each time. Your hands moved from his shoulder to his face, cupping both of his cheeks and guiding his lips to yours, the sounds that escaped your mouths became one. His hands massaged your breasts shamelessly this time, his palms rubbed your nipples while you leaned your head back, giving him perfect access to your neck.

"I can't- I can't anymore." You cried out, your movements becoming more and more sloppy.

"It's okay. You did well." He gasped, his hands on your hips slowly guiding your movements, giving you enough time to recompose. Joel helped you to wrap your legs around his body, so that when he stood up from the toilet, he could move you with him, his dick still balls deep inside you.

Joel sat you on the sink and he splayed your legs completely open. You sat up on your elbows, looking through your eyelashes as he was admiring how your pussy sucked him. His dick slid inside you easily, his thrusts were stronger than you thought they would be and they made your whole body shake with them. Your throat felt dry and the burn in the pit of your stomach felt warmer and warmer. You dug your nails into his shoulders and pulled him to you, chest to chest.

Your hips rolled involuntarily against his, and you nodded to everything he muttered at you through gritted teeth. Yes, you were a good girl. Yes, you were his good girl. Yes, your pussy belonged to him. Yes, you were about to cum. Yes, you wanted his cum, and yes, you wanted it inside. And who was he to deny you your wishes? With a groan coming straight from his chest and your legs shaking and closing around his body, you both came seconds apart.

Joel stayed inside you, his head resting on your shoulder as you played with the hair on the back of his neck. You giggled. "Look at the shy one."

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fanficsformyfaves · 9 months ago

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Or What?

Rhea Ripley x Uso Sister!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Enemies To Lovers, Confessions, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Nicknames, Oral Sex (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Orgasm Denial (R Receiving), Degradation and Praise Kink (R Receiving), Mommy Kink, Choking Kink (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Choking (R Receiving)

PREFACE: Reader has always known Rhea to be arrogant, callous and mean, so it only made sense that she despised the eradicator, especially after what she did to her brother...but what happens when they find themselves in a broom closet alone together?

A/N: Jey and Rhea are feuding in this A/U

Announcer's Dialogue In Bold and Colored!

Texts in Italic, Colored and Bold!

As I waited for Jey to finish up his match, I hear the sound of boot heels clicking from down the hall and when I turn my head to see who it was, I was immediately vexed.

Rhea fucking Ripley.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. She was easily the most smug-faced asshole I'd ever met and not only that, she had the audacity to make my brother look stupid in front of the entire world.

I stuff my phone into my back pocket, before crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well, if it isn't little (Y/N) Uso. What's a cute thing like you doing out here by yourself?", she teased.

I simply looked away, ignoring her comment.

"Hm, never took you for the shy type", she said,

Taking a step closer towards me.

"From what I've seen, you're quiet the firecracker", she brushes a hair from my face.

I grab her wrist, staring daggers into her eyes.

"Never...touch me"

She lets out a dark chuckle, using the grip I had on her to yank me closer. Our faces were now merely inches apart.

"Or what, princess?"

"Or...I'll..."

"Mhm, use your words", she whispered,

Leaning down closer to the point her breath brushed against my bottom lip.

What was happening? And why was I not pulling away? I should've...but I just couldn't.

Just as I was desperately trying to regain my composure, the crowd outside goes wild and the speakers go off.

Announcer: And here is your winner...Jey...USOOO!

My brother's theme song began playing and I knew he was just moments away from bursting through the doors.

Shit, if he sees me causing trouble, I'm gonna be in for it. I could already hear him and some guards just around the corner. With seemingly no other option, I push Rhea and myself into the closet directly behind her and close it shut.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving both of our asses", I whispered,

Stepping away from the door. The footsteps were getting closer with each passing second and my heart was pounding so hard, I could barely breathe.

As if getting caught in the hallways wouldn't have been bad enough, I could only imagine what would happen if Jey found us in a literal closet together.

The shadow of his feet stop right in front of the door and I was panicking like I never have before.

"Have y'all seen (Y/N)? She said she'd be waiting right here"

"No, sir, not since before the match started"

"Hm", he hummed dismissively,

Before carrying on towards his dressing room.

Once he was finally gone, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Jesus, that was close"

"You're telling me", she replied.

That's when I finally noticed her towering figure hunched over behind me, with an arm around my waist and her hand flat on my stomach.

I turn to face her and there we were again.

Her lips almost meeting mine, as our eyes found one another in a tense exchange. I couldn't comprehend much of anything that was happening, but mostly, I was confused at why I wasn't pulling away again.

She humiliated my brother and betrayed him. I had every right to hate her...right?

"You know", she breaks the silence,

"You're awfully adorable, when you aren't staring daggers into me"

There was that stupid smirk again, only this time it affected me differently.

Instead of becoming agitated, I felt a second heartbeat I didn't feel before. Every inch of my skin was overheating at her touch and she knew it.

"Oh...you like this, don't you?"

"What? No-"

"Such a cliche, falling for your brother's enemy"

"I don't-"

"Then how come you aren't shoving me away and telling me to fuck off like you usually do?", she questioned,

Gently turning my body to fully face her, before pinning me to the wall by my arms.

"I think we both know the answer to that question, darling", she whispered,

Ducking her head down on my shoulder, whilst trailing kisses up my neck.

"Just say it. Say you want me and put a rest to this tiring act of pretending like you don't"

Was she right?

Have I just been in denial about the attraction I felt for her and hid behind anger all this time?

I couldn't quite focus on finding a proper explanation, as she reached the lobe of my ear, nibbling on it and forcing a whine out of me.

"God, even the sounds you make are sweet. Wonder if you'll taste as sweet as you sound", she mumbled against me,

Running her hand up my thigh.

"R-Rhea"

"All you have to do is tell me to stop and I will. Is that what you want?"

I contemplated for a moment. This was wrong. Getting involved with someone like her would only ever end in chaos, especially with the bad blood she had with Jey...but in that moment, any voice of reason was no match for the way she was touching me.

"No", I ultimately answered.

"Good"

Not wanting to waste any more of the limited time we had, she finally presses her lips against mine.

They were soft and gentle, which surprised me the most.

One of her hands let off my waist and trailed up my skirt, brushing against my bundle of nerves through the underwear I had on.

I whined against her mouth, which curled up into an excited grin.

"Sensitive, are you? Let's see how long it takes till I have you cumming on my tongue"

Just then, she drops to her knees, flipping up my skirt to take a good look at the mess she was already making of me.

"God, I barely touched you yet", she mocked,

Before pulling my thong to the side and licking up my slick entrance.

"Mmm, so fucking sweet", she praised,

Throwing my thighs over her strong shoulders, so I was sat on top of her. It didn't take long for her lips to wrap around my bundle of nerves, as the grasp she had on my hips tightened with each passing lick.

I intertwined my fingers in her hair, whilst her name repeatedly spilled out of me like a prayer that would never be answered.

Eventually, I feel the tip of two digits press against my slit, before slipping themselves completely inside me with no resistance to stop them.

Her momentum immediately fast and relentless.

Already, the knot in the pit of my stomach began to tighten and threaten to snap. I could tell by the way she smirked over my clit that she knew it too.

"Not so tough when I have you at my mercy, are you? Maybe I shouldn't let you cum", she teased,

"No! Please, don't stop!", I pleaded,

"Good girl", she says,

Continuing her unletting efforts to bring me over the edge, but before she could, voices on the other side of the door interrupts us.

I immediately let out a gasp, causing Rhea to slap a hand over my mouth.

"Jey's looking for (Y/N)"

"Wasn't she just here earlier?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where she went"

The security guards eventually move past the closet and I let out a sigh of relief.

I get off of her, arranging my skirt and she eyes me up in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"This was a mistake"

She scoffs, getting up and dusting her knees.

"You didn't seem to think this was a 'mistake' when my tongue was wearing you out", she tested,

Pushing my head up with a hooked finger.

"Now...what did you say about me never touching you again?"

I roll my eyes and push her hand away.

"Wait five minutes before I leave", I instructed,

"Whatever you say", she smiled,

Looking down at her feet.

I carefully opened the door, whilst peaking my head out to make sure the coast was clear and once it was, I step out and close it, when I turn back around and was ambushed by my brother.

"Fucking Christ, dude!", I exclaimed,

As my hand went over my chest.

"Aye, language", he warned,

"Sorry"

"Where were you? I've been looking for like twenty minutes"

"The...bathroom"

"For twenty minutes?"

"Yo, what's with the interrogation, dawg? Woman business", I snapped,

"Alright, alright. I was just asking", he throws his hands up in surrender,

"I wanna grab food on the way back, come on", he says,

Putting an arm over my shoulder and walking me out. I quickly glance back at the closet door and prayed it stayed closed till we were out of sight.

Once we got into the car, I was finally left to my thoughts.

The guilt that overwhelmed me was all consuming and burdensome. I had just slept with my brother's nemesis. The person he hated most and here I was, pretending like it didn't happen, as he went on and on about his current win.

In that moment, I get a notification on my phone and I go to see who it was. I didn't recognize the number, but once I saw the text, I knew immediately.

Unknown Number: We should talk about this

Me: There's nothing to talk about

Unknown Number: Oh please, spare me, are you really going back to being in denial?

Me: Denial about what?

Unknown Number: Whatever

Unknown Number: But, when you do come to your senses, you know where to find me, beautiful ;)

I lock my phone and shove it inside my purse with a sigh.

"You good?"

"Yeah, just tired"

"Well, you look tired", he says,

Mimicking the sweat dripping down my face, causing me to hastily swipe it off.

After stopping by at a pizza place for dinner, we head to the hotel and made our way back to the suite.

"That was scrumptious. We needa head back before going home", Jey emphasized,

Opening the door and letting the both of us inside.

"I call the shower first"

"Dude", I go to argue,

"Ah! Winners get special privileges", he mocked.

I roll my eyes and he chuckles at my response, before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I lay back against the bed by the window and looked over the entire city.

As breathtaking as the sight was to behold, I was still hung up on Rhea. Why? Why her? Of all the people I could've hooked up with, it had to be fucking Ripley?

As disappointed as I was with myself, I couldn't help but look back at the encounter with a certain sense of reverie.

I'd never been touched like that.

None of the people I'd been with before had ever gotten me that close...I wonder what would've happened if I had just stayed there in that closet with her.

Before I could delve any deeper into my thoughts, I hear my phone go off once again and I already knew who it could be.

Unknown Number: Can't stop thinking about you, precious

God damn it, again with the nicknames.

Me: Rhea, please

Unknown Number: Please what?

Me: We can't do this

Unknown Number: Oh yes, we can

Unknown Number: The only person saying we can't is you

Me: You hurt my brother

Unknown: Hey, he decided to attack Dom, I couldn't just sit idle and let him

Me: Yeah, after the fact he slammed Jimmy with a chair

Unknown: Listen, I have no control over what the boys do

Unknown Number: Nor do I have control over who I want

A frigid chill run up my spine.

Unknown Number: What happened wasn't ideal, I get it

Unknown Number: So allow me make it up to you

Me: How?

Unknown Number: By picking up where we left off of course

Unknown Number: When I had you on the brink of cumming, before we were so rudely interrupted

It was getting harder and harder to resist her tempting.

Me: This is wrong

Unknown Number: Did it feel wrong? When you were begging me to make you unravel on my mouth?

Me: Rhea

Unknown Number: Tell me, when did the regret set in? Was it before or after my fingers found themselves inside you?

The pulsing sensation in my center began to intensify with every text she sent.

Unknown Number: You can lie to yourself all you want, darling

Unknown Number: But we both know that you want me just as much as I want you. I'm just making it easier by admitting it first

Unknown Number: Ball's in your court now, Uso

It took all the strength I had to resist, but it still wasn't enough. I ultimately caved, needing to feel her against me again.

Me: Where are you?

I just knew she was grinning like a wildcat on the other side of the phone.

Unknown Number: Location📍

The hotel she was staying at was only ten minutes away.

Me: Room?

Unknown Number: I'll be in the lobby to let you up. See you, beautiful ;)

I facepalm my forehead.

What was I doing? Once could've been a mistake, but twice? Now, this was betrayal.

Jey steps out of the bathroom, drying off his hair.

"Shower's free"

"Actually, I gotta go. Naomi wants to have a girl's night"

"For real?"

"Mhm", I hesitated,

He contemplates for a moment, before shrugging.

"Aight, just text me when you get there"

I let out a sigh of relief, before grabbing my phone and leaving.

Besides the obvious thoughts going through my head, all I could think about was how conflicted I felt. On one hand, family meant the world to me and out of all of them, Jey was who I was closest with...but on the other hand, there was Rhea. I didn't know what could transpire from this, but I guess I was just gonna have to find out.

Eventually, I got to her hotel and tried my best to avoid any paparazzi by keeping my head down and speed-walking into the lobby. I allow myself a moment to scan the room, before my eyes finally landed on her.

She was sat on one of the couches with elbows resting on her knees and scrolling through her phone.

With one last deep breath, I made my way towards her.

"Hello, there", she grinned,

Looking up at me, as she stood up.

"Hi", I greeted,

Avoiding her piercing gaze.

"I appreciate eye-contact, whilst speaking", she says,

Using my cheek to make me face her. I was already melting into her touch and blushing a bright red hue.

"D'you enjoy the ride?", she questioned,

Causing my eyes to widen.

"The car ride, darling", she teased,

She knew what she was doing.

"How about we get you upstairs?", she suggests.

I nod, as she took my hand and lead me to the elevators.

Once we were inside and the doors close us in, she pushes my hair aside and ducked her head into the crook of my neck, leaving wet kisses lingering on my skin.

"Couldn't stop thinking about earlier. I've never tasted anything better", she murmured,

Gripping my waist.

"R-Rhea", I whined,

Holding onto her shoulders. If the elevator doors hadn't opened just then, we would've had our way with each other right there. We rush towards her room and she uses my body to slam the door shut.

My hands creeping up into her hair, as her teeth tugged on my bottom lip.

I pull my sweater over my head, leaving me exposed to the cool air.

"Goodness", she exhaled,

Cupping the bottom of my breasts and licking my hardening buds. My skin was ablaze and my jaw drops with every moan that fell past my lips.

I go to pull my skirt down, when she stops me by my wrists.

"The skirt stays on"

Fuck, was I dripping.

"But...these need to go"

She reaches up and hooks her fingers around my waistband, yanking my underwear off and helping me out of them.

"I've already gotten a taste, now I need the whole show", she says,

Undoing the buttons of her jeans and revealing the toy already strapped around her waist. My eyes widen and she chuckles at my reaction.

"Like what you see, princess?"

"Y-Yes"

She bites back a smile and carried me to bed, before laying me out against the soft comforter.

"You're such a good girl when you aren't running your mouth", she praised,

Shoving her thumb into it, as I gladly accepted.

She then pulls it away and pressed it against my clit. A gasp rips out of me and my legs clench together, to which she pushes them apart and keeps them in place with her broad shoulders.

"Don't try escaping me now, you wanted this"

As she began rubbing firm circles on my bundle of nerves, my core dripped onto her ready palm.

"You are such an easy brat. All those time of you screaming at me, when you should've been screaming for me. All I had to do was put you in your place", she mocked over my moans.

Eventually, she pulled away and left me whining at the loss of contact.

"Patience"

She trips herself of her pants and tank top and the sight before me was something straight out of my wildest dreams. From her ample breasts, perfect waist and the sweat collecting on her fair skin, I was growing more and more desperate.

"As much as I love seeing you gawk at me, I think we should switch gears"

With one swift motion, she flips me onto my stomach and drags my ass into the air by my hips.

"This ass, babe. God", she mumbles,

Leaning down to place a gentle kiss on one cheek, before biting down hard and smacking the other.

I scream out, gripping the sheets.

Just then, I feel her rubbing the tip of the toy up and down my entrance, furthering the torture.

"How badly do you want this?"

"Please, I need you", I whined,

"Oh...you need this, huh? Think you've earned it?", she challenged,

Yanking me up against her by my throat, squeezing tight.

"Y-Yes, Mami, please!"

With one more wicked grin, she fills me to the hilt. The stretch burning, as I cried out into the air.

Her pace was immediately brutal and relentless, like the grip she had on my neck.

"Such a precious little thing", she praised,

Pounding repeatedly on my g-spot and causing stars to cloud my vision.

She'd been teasing me since the night began, so it should've come as no surprise to me when my walls had already begun pulsing around her.

"So good for me. So fucking good", she growled against my ear.

"I'm gonna cum, Mami, please!"

"Not till I say so"

"Please!"

"Keep whining and I'll make you wait even longer", she threatened.

Not wanting to face those consequences, I bite my tongue and held onto her hips for dear life, digging my nails into her flesh.

By this time, the room was nothing, but the smell of sex, sweat and tear-filled moans. The orgasm that I'd been chasing was now hounding me down and threatening to overwhelm me. It was getting harder to fight it off with each of her harsh thrusts.

I was just surprised we didn't get a noise complaint.

Once she was satisfied with how weak she had me, her hands reaches for my clit once more.

"You look so good this way. Fucked out and drenched in sweat and tears for me. Cum for me, darling. Show mami just how good she makes you feel"

That was the last thing I could make out, when the knot in my stomach finally snapped and pushed me over the edge.

All I could see was a rush of pure white, before falling limp on my stomach, out of breath and gasping for any air my lungs would allow.

She then pulls out of me and discards the toy from her hips. I was then picked up and placed delicately onto her bare chest.

"You did so good, darling", she muttered sweetly,

Wrapping her arms around me and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Maybe...this wasn't such a bad idea.

I snuggled deeper into her embrace and she welcomed me in with a satisfied chuckle.

"Who knew beneath all that cold exterior was a soft little angel?", she jested,

Making me roll my eyes.

"I'm really glad you came. Well, in that sense, yes, but also you making the trip here", I interrupt with a playful smack to her shoulder.

"I wasn't too rough, was I?"

"It was perfect", I reassured,

Craning my head up to meet her lips.

"About your brother-"

"We don't have to talk about that"

"But we do"

She sits up, as I did the same, covering myself with the comforter.

"It’s always so easy to get caught up in messes, but that doesn't excuse what I did or let happen"

"I love my friends and I'd do anything for them...but not at the cost of someone like you. I've admired you since the day we met. Your passion, your drive and not to mention your everlasting beauty, it seems"

I couldn't help, but blush at her confession.

"Though I'm used to your fiery, protective side, I've also caught glimpses of your heart when I see you care for the people you love...I couldn't deny that"

"So I thought the best way to keep myself away from you was to make you hate me", she continued.

"Because I knew letting myself fall for you was betraying The Judgment Day, when lo and behold, you felt the same all along. We were always so consumed with putting other people first, that we forgot that our own happiness mattered too"

The more she spoke, the more it all made sense.

"And at some point, I couldn't hold back anymore...so I just let it happen. You can tell me that I'm wrong and that nothing that I said made sense, but I know, by that look in your eye, that I'm not"

By the end of her speaking, I was in tears, having felt so seen and understood. I gently cup her face in my hands, kissing her once more.

"You're not wrong", I sniffled,

Pulling back.

"I don't think I would've ever had the courage to say those things to your face"

"Of course, you would've. You're braver than you think"

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut #demi bennett

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just-j-really · 1 year ago

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"I just don't get it," Hob says, for the fifth or sixth or possibly twentieth time that night, glancing over the rim of his cup at Will, who's sitting on the other side of the room, cuddling with his soulmate in an armchair that's really too small for the both of them. "Why everyone's so hung up on soulmates."

It's all anyone's been able to talk about tonight- and sure, that's fair, it is Will and Ann's engagement party, but Hob has overheard the phrases 'oh you're so lucky you found each other so young' and 'why did you wait this long?' far too many times for one night. Will and Ann met as toddlers; they've never had another option and Hob cannot fathom why everyone seems to think that's a good thing.

Case in point, even his little group of Unmatched friends react to his statement with varying degrees of exasperation.

Hob is just sober enough to be aware he should probably shut up, and drunk enough that he keeps talking anyway. "I mean, I've seen 'soulmates'," he says. "My parents were soulmates, both my siblings met theirs, half of my friends are paired off by now. It's not like I don't know how soulmates work. Soulmates are..." he takes a moment, gathers his thoughts, and even though he's not entirely sure what he's about to say, the moment the word leaves his mouth he knows it's exactly right, "Stupid."

His friends laugh uncomfortably. "You're an idiot," Andrew says, not unkindly.

But Hob's on a roll now, an argument that's been simmering in his chest for years spilling out of him, the exhilaration of speaking making the words come easily. "You literally don't have to stay with your soulmate. No one has to! Everyone just goes along with it because everybody else does. But not me. I've made up my mind," he says, setting his cup down and straightening his shoulders. He's been bullshitting a bit but he means this, knows down to his bones that this is something worth staking his life on. "I'm going to meet someone perfect who isn't my soulmate, and I'll marry them instead."

He feels like he should do something solemn to mark this occasion. Stand up on a table, maybe.

Instead, most of his friends laugh at him again. "Hobs, that's the literal definition of your soulmate. Someone who's perfect for you," Gwen points out. The laughter is teasing, and Gwen's tone is more reassuring than anything else, but still, Hob finds himself frustrated.

"But there's so much more out there. So many people to fall in love with," he insists. "Shouldn't I know who's perfect for me better than anyone?"

And his friends tease him for somehow being sappily romantic in his opposition to sappy romance, and he laughs along with them and points out that his perfect person will be more understanding than them, for sure. And he's genuinely a bit hurt, but Gwen bumps his shoulder apologetically and he thinks that destiny has nothing on these friends he's made on purpose, who know him well enough for these unspoken gestures. And there's movement in the corner of his eye.

Hob looks up.

The most gorgeous man alive is standing in front of him. He's tall- probably taller than Hob, even- pale and willowy, with a mess of soft-looking black hair. His eyes are a deep blue Hob didn't think existed in real life until this moment. He looks like the slightly magical prince in a fairy tale got loose in the real world and decided to become a goth. He's perfect.

"Did I hear you say," the man asks, his voice soft and deep all at once, resonant in a way that Hob's never heard before, "you have no intention of meeting your soulmate?"

Not if he's you, Hob thinks, I take it all back if he's you.

Despite what many of his friends will argue, he is capable of not voicing every thought that comes into his head, if only under extreme circumstances, so he offers the stranger his best grin and says, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"You'll need to tell me how that works out, then," the man replies.

"Don't encourage him!" Andrew calls from the other side of their little cluster.

The man- flinches, just a little. Hob probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been staring at him, but Hob's universe just gained a new center, so he is and he does.

"Hey," he says, catching the man's eyes, "Don't mind him, he's just boring. You really want to know how it goes, finding someone who isn't my soulmate?"

"I do," the man says, seriously, like he genuinely thinks Hob's quest is worth his full attention. It leaves Hob feeling warm, almost giddy.

"Perfect," Hob says, and then, because he's never known when to quit, "Let me give you my number, so I can update you?"

The man nods, a teasing little smirk appearing on his face, as though he and Hob already know each other perfectly, and this is a shared, ancient joke between the two of them. His fingers brush Hob's as he passes over his phone.

Nothing happens. There's no spark, no splash of color on Hob's skin marking where this stranger's fingers first dragged over his.

They are, definitively, not soulmates.

And Hob knows for certain that he's right.

[Part Two]

#dreamling #the anti-soulmate au #I'm back on my bullshit everybody!#it's not soulmates but it IS love at first sight #for one of them anyway #my fic #unsoulmates au

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 18 days ago

Note

Hello!! Hola! I wanted to tell you that reading your stories is often the best part of my day, I don't know what cauldron of writing magic you fell into when you were a child, but honestly I'm glad you did 😄 I also wanted to request a Donna story: when Ethan goes to Donna's house, instead of k*lling her and Angie, he only stabs and hurts her really bad, because reader saves her from him. Reader wasn't in a relationship with Donna yet, but she was secretly already infatuated with Donna and would've done anything to save her life. Reader then helps Donna throughout her painful recovery, healing her multiple physical wounds and also the emotional ones. They end up getting together ❤️ Thank you so much!!!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for you compliments, and for your request, the cauldron part made me laugh hard xD! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

About to lose you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, mentions of blood, I've literally stabbed the canon, but I don't care...

Word count: 7,696

Summary: You can't lose her, you just can't...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Oh, you're back,” you said with a kind smile, seeing that your lady had returned from the meeting.

Of course, you didn't know if there was a smile behind that black veil, or if the lady in black was looking at you or listening, but you didn't care. You were already used to sensing her expressions, even trying to guess them.

“Mm,” she murmured, turning her head and nodding slightly as she passed by you.

The always enigmatic attitude of Lady Beneviento had been stirring your feelings for longer than you would like to admit, but, like everything, you also got used to those nerves, to that slight blush on your cheeks. You hoped she wouldn't notice how obvious your behavior was.

You had been working in the mansion as a maid for several months now, but for you it had been just a sigh.

You were an ordinary girl in a not-so-ordinary village. Maid, wife or hermit, you didn't have many more options either. Escaping from that place, from the control of Mother Miranda, the Lords, and the Black Gods was something completely impossible and you knew it. Maybe a few years ago you considered taking a risk and trying to escape from that constant darkness, but it was only a fleeting thought.

You only had one life, you only had one chance to breathe, to live the best way you could, it would be absurd to end it all, run away and die, or worse, end up turned into one of the creatures that protect the place.

Completely convinced that you wouldn’t give your life to a loveless marriage, and without enough strength or skill to grow food or care for animals, being a maid was your best option for survival.

The question was: Maid for whom?

Everyone in the village knew that in the castle there was always room for girls like you, always. That was a truth, a disturbing fact. Many of your friends never returned from that place, those who did, never recovered. Risking working in the castle would be like risking leaving the village.

You only had one option, something that no one had dared to do, approach through the forest to the mansion that seemed abandoned, test the rumors that said no one returned from that place, and offer yourself to be a maid for the lady in black, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

Lord, yes, adopted daughter of Mother Miranda, too, but a truly strange woman. Few people had been lucky, or unlucky enough to see that black shadow walking, perhaps at masses.

A woman covered by a black veil, always accompanied by a sinister living doll, a quiet, mysterious, dangerous woman... that was her.

No one knew many things about her, and the ones that were known weren’t exactly good. Daughter of a noble family, descendant of one of the founders of the village, Donna Beneviento was barely a shadow of what they once really were. Her family disappeared due to madness, she stayed.

The Black Gods saw something in her important enough to take pity on that young lady, and let her live forever, wrapped in the arms of the supreme priestess.

Her story was tragic, sad and unfair, but as you walked to the mansion, you tried to forget about it. You would work as a maid. It didn't matter too much for whom.

The lady was wary of you at first, or so her withdrawn attitude and the teasing of the Angie doll told you, but finally, she accepted.

You became the only maid who lived in that place, the silent companion of Lady Beneviento.

It was true that she was strange, that the madness that accompanied her family had also hurt her. She was a sick, disturbed woman, reluctant to contact, to words, and even to show her face.

You never saw what was behind that veil, not even as her maid. Over time, you began to wonder if that portrait on the stairs had anything to do with the dark lady. If so, well… she was the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

Donna wasn’t abrupt, but she wasn’t kind either. She would pronounce a few words or simple orders for you to carry out and you always thought you would have to settle for that. Little by little, the lady left her shyness aside, forming complete sentences or even conversations.

The tranquility you lived by her side gave you the privilege of distracting yourself, of entertaining and enjoying your free time. It might seem like a good job, an enviable one, but, when there was no cleaning, laundry or cooking to do, your head began to wander aimlessly, forcing you to focus your thoughts on her, always on Donna.

Of course, you never gave importance to that perhaps exaggerated affection you were beginning to feel. If you did, you were sure it would stop being just affection.

Every day, every night, you asked yourself the same questions, more and more frequently: What does Donna think of me? Does she like me being her maid? Why do I like being her maid so much?

You had to stop thinking about such things, or you would go crazy.

The lady in black walked silently to her desk, dropping into the chair and leaving something on the table, something shiny. You approached with a gentle step, your gaze fixed on the floor. You knew she didn't like your eyes searching hers, trying to interpret them.

“Has everything gone well, Donna?” you asked quietly, briefly catching her attention.

You will always find that contradiction curious. Donna didn't seem to be entirely comfortable with your presence, but still, she hated when you didn't call her by her name. That woman was herself a contradiction. You had no reason to be surprised.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking at that mysterious jar.

You walked around the desk, your gaze fixed on that yellow glow, arching your eyebrows.

“What’s this?” you asked curiously, leaning over the desk. “Is it a…?”

“What’s this, what’s this?!” a shrill voice screamed almost in your ear, making you recoil with a knot in your chest.

“Ugh, Angie…” you sighed, breathing hard, enduring the puppet's mockery and laughter, which were always directed towards you. “Don't yell…”

“Don't tell me what to do, you silly maid,” the doll said, with a cocky pose, also climbing onto the desk.

“D-Donna, what is…?” you asked in a lower tone, standing behind the lady and looking over her shoulder.

“It's none of your business,” the woman in black whispered, looking at you briefly, making her veil dance for your pleasure, revealing part of her pale skin, her black hair that gave her away as the woman in the portrait.

“Oh, right, I'm sorry,” you said, regretful for your blatant curiosity, bowing politely.

“Don't be sorry. It's better that you don't know, (Y/N),” the lady said, subtly looking away.

“O-Okay, you're right,” you said in a low voice, looking at the shiny jar out of the corner of your eye. “How was the meeting?”

Donna simply shrugged, telling you that she didn't seem to feel like talking, to no one's surprise.

“It’s a very cold day,” you said shivering, walking to the fireplace that you lit previously, rubbing your hands.

“Mm,” she murmured, without taking her eyes off that shiny jar.

“Maybe you'd like something warm,” you suggested, approaching the desk again and, involuntarily, making a gesture you had become dangerously accustomed to: reaching out your hand towards hers. “Oh, Donna, your hands are freezing,” you said with a worried expression, warming one of her soft hands with yours.

She was never bothered by your slightly daring attitude, by you touching her from time to time in an almost maternal way. You were always that way, and besides, you had become a bit addicted to those soft hands...

The lady cleared her throat, maintaining contact for a few more seconds before shyly moving her hand away.

“Um, yes,” she murmured, somewhat nervous about your annoying proximity.

“Well, I have a remedy for that,” you said with a smile as bright as that jar. “How about I make you some tea?”

“Mm, yes, tea,” she said with a hoarse voice, with a whisper full of discomfort at your proximity.

“Perfect,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “The Duke brought a new batch of artisanal teas yesterday, I think they are the ones made by the Petrescu family,” you commented, absentmindedly placing some things on the shelves, making sure, as always, that everything was perfect for your lady.

“I don't care,” Donna whispered, with a tired sigh. “Bring me a tea, will you?”

“Right away, Donna,” you said with your usual cheerfulness, nodding elegantly. “With lemon and no sugar?”

“Yes, grazie, (Y/N),” she said, turning her gaze towards you. “Angie, go with her, I need a moment.”

“Me, with the maid?!” the doll protested.

“Yes, come on, go away, leave me alone,” the lady said, gesturing towards the puppet, who followed you muttering something, something that weren't exactly nice words.

Already in the kitchen, you prepared that hot drink under the intense gaze of the doll, who sat on the counter, but, miraculously, didn't bother you too much.

“Is Donna okay?” you asked casually, seeing something strange in the lady's behavior, seeing a certain… concern. “It's not normal for her to get rid of you.”

“I think she's a bit nervous,” Angie said, with a shrill but calm voice, watching how the hot water mixed with the infusion. “Maybe it's because you're unable to keep your mouth shut, silly.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes and leaning on the counter, thoughtful.

“If she didn’t like the way I am, I think I wouldn't be here anymore, would I?” you said amused, shaking your head.

“Don't have any doubts, maid,” Angie said, pointing at you with her wooden finger.

“Why is she nervous? Has something happened?” you asked curiously, frowning, remembering that mysterious jar.

“Well, actually... bah, you're not interested,” Angie said, looking away, with a gesture that told you it wouldn't be difficult to get information out of her. “You must take care of my Donna and she'll take care of her business, maid, don't overstep your duties.”

“Worrying about her is my duty,” you commented, arching your eyebrows. “If there's anything I can do to...”

“Yes, to shut up, you're a pain,” Angie cut you off, making you roll your eyes again.

“How curious, she's never asked me to shut up,” you joked, checking the water. “Oh, the tea is ready.”

“Because she doesn't dare to do it, that's what I'm here for,” the doll said, pointing at herself. “Donna is a coward.”

“Really?” you asked with a petulant tone and an intense look. “I find it hard to believe.”

“Believe me, I know her, she can't even tell you…” the puppet commented, catching your attention. “Bah, I don't know what I'm doing talking to you, maid.” she said hurriedly, lowering the counter and fleeing the kitchen, as if she had said something she shouldn't.

You laughed tenderly as you served the tea, walking slowly out of the kitchen, intrigued by Angie's words, but forgetting about them for a moment. You had all night to fantasize about the lady's feelings, now you were working.

“Here you go, Donna,” you said in a velvety voice, leaving the tea tray on the desk and taking the opportunity to glance at that shiny jar.

It looked like a simple jar, it could contain anything, but on the side, on a label, there was a slightly disturbing inscription.

Rose.W Legs

You blinked several times, trying to interpret its contents, hoping it wasn't literally what it said, shaking your head. Looking away from the jar, you moved your eyes to the lady in black, who was standing in front of the fireplace, warming her hands.

The villagers had always said terrible things about her, but you... you didn't think that way. Living with Lady Beneviento made you discover feelings, but also change your mind about truths that seemed immovable. That woman wasn’t a monster. She seemed human, very human.

“Are you okay?” you asked due the heavy silence, one that wasn’t usual in a situation like that.

“Mm? Oh, yes, of course,” Donna whispered distractedly, moving her head towards you and approaching the desk again. “The tea smells different…”

“Yes, my bad,” you said amused, moving away a cup that was for you. “I gave it a personal touch with raspberry aroma. I-I know… I know you like it,” you murmured, blowing on your cup.

“You are very thoughtful, (Y/N),” the lady commented, making the same gesture with her cup. “Come, sit with me.”

“S-Sure,” you said somewhat nervous at that strange proposal, accompanying your lady to a pair of armchairs near the fire.

In silence, without Angie interrupting that warm moment, you both drank the tea. Normally it would be a special situation for you, one you would think about before sleeping, imagining a thousand ways to approach Donna. At this point in your life, it was already absurd to deny that… well, that you felt something more than pure affection for her.

But that time there was a different feeling, a heavy tension that pressed your shoulders down, an unusual atmosphere of concern.

Donna sighed, leaving the now empty cup on a nearby table, staring at the fireplace, and then, briefly, at you.

“(Y/N), I have a question for you,” she said in a hoarse voice, with a thick accent that betrayed nervousness. “You don’t have to answer, but I would like you to.”

“A question?” you asked somewhat surprised, choking comically on your tea. “Of course, Donna.”

“Mm,” she murmured thoughtfully, with the flames of the fireplace reflecting on what you could see of her face, dancing on her skin in a sinister way. “Tell me, if you could get out of this place… would you do it?”

“What?” you asked confused, shaking your head, tea shaking in your hands. “Oh, well, I…”

“I'm not going to judge you,” she said, lowering her gaze and playing with her hands.

“Yes, well… Let's see… the truth is that a sinister, cold village is not the place a girl like me dreams about,” you said, unsure of being honest, nervous about that out of context question. “But I can't complain.”

“Explain yourself,” your lady demanded, looking at you again.

“Well, I've heard amazing things about the outside world, but… I just don't need the outside world. The Gods have been kind to me and besides… I have a comfortable job, one that I enjoy,” you said, with the blush on your cheeks appearing to give you away.

“Do you like working for me? Don't talk nonsense,” Donna said, with an accusatory tone.

“Actually, I do,” you said with a lower voice. “You're not like people say.”

“Mm,” she murmured, not wanting to say anything else, relaxing in the armchair, her gaze fixed on the fireplace. “(Y/N), if I gave you the chance to leave right now, to flee from this village... would you do it?”

“No,” you answered without giving it importance, letting your feelings speak for you. “I don't want to leave. I-I-I'm fine with you, Donna.”

“You're fine with me,” she said, shaking her head, with a shy laugh. “You're dumber than I thought.”

“If I'm dumb for wanting to stay with you, I guess you're right,” you said with a serious tone, finishing your tea with trembling hands. “Sorry, Donna, but... what are these questions about?”

The lady looked at you and sighed again, making a strange gesture.

“It's nothing,” she whispered with a tone that revealed a big lie. “You... Will you stay with me? No matter what?”

“No matter what? What do you mean?” you asked, somewhat worried.

Donna shook her head again, nervous, erratic.

“Forget it, (Y/N), I'd better work on my dolls,” Donna said with a tired murmur, getting up from the armchair.

“W-Wait, Donna,” you said, interrupting her steps, causing her black veil to dance again. “Yes, I would stay with you no matter what, I'm your maid.”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding slightly. “I like you being my maid.”

That was the last conversation you had with her that night. The lady in black didn't have dinner, she simply disappeared, surely tired, or working tirelessly on her dolls. You knew something was up, something that wasn't good. Donna had never asked such strange questions, and the matter of that mysterious jar…

You couldn't sleep that night. There was something that worried you, something you couldn't guess and that made you nervous. A new day would put an end to it, or so you thought. If you thought carefully, you could see that it wasn't the first time Donna had behaved strangely, especially before a terrible crisis.

There was no screaming, crying or hitting, so that possibility was unfounded. No, it wasn't the lady's madness or the voices in her head, no, it was something else and you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know.

The next morning started off calm and routine. Making breakfast, cleaning the house a bit… These were chores that distracted you from your thoughts and worries. Donna didn't come up to breakfast, she didn't show up, not even Angie seemed to want to make fun of you and make your work harder.

Something strange was definitely going on.

The sound of heels on wood alerted you as you were cleaning a piece of furniture, making you frown.

“(Y/N)!” the veiled lady shrieked, desperately looking for you. “(Y/N)! Dove sei!?”

“Donna,” you said, coming out of the corner you were cleaning, seeing in front of you the woman in black, with that horrible jar in her hand. “I-I'm here, what's wrong?”

“Oh, meno male…” she said, walking hastily towards you and roughly grabbing your arm, digging her nails into your skin as she dragged you towards the hall.

“Donna, what's going on? Y-You're hurting me,” you said, hissing in pain from her grip, but letting yourself be dragged along. “Donna?”

“Listen to me, you have to listen to me,” she said nervously, letting you go and putting her hands on your shoulders. “Do you hear me? Tell me you're listening to me!”

“Yes,” you said nervously, somewhat scared by her shaky voice, by her abrupt and senseless attitude. “Yes…”

“Here,” Donna said, handing you that shiny jar quickly, almost making you drop it. “Listen carefully, (Y/N), I want you to take this and go up to the attic.”

“The attic? D-Donna, I don't understand anything,” you said, shaking your head, with your heart beating very fast.

“Do what I tell you!” she yelled furiously, trying to calm herself down. “Do it, per favore…”

“I-I… it’s, it’s okay,” you said nodding, holding the jar tightly in your arms.

“Go up to the attic and hide there, did you hear me? No matter what happens, no matter what you hear… Don’t come down! Don’t come out! Is that clear?” the lady asked hastily, shaking you. “Is that clear!?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, nodding nervously.

Donna sighed looking around, removing her hands from your shoulders. In one of them there was another smaller object, it looked like… a syringe.

“Don’t move,” she whispered, uncapping the needle and, without saying another word, sticking it into your neck, emptying the contents.

“Ouch!” you squealed due to the prick and the fear you were feeling. “What was that!? What's going on, Donna!?”

“Sì… tutto bene…” she whispered to herself, moving your eyelids with her fingers, as if she were searching for something in your eyes. “Now, (Y/N), go to the attic and stay there, stay there, do you hear me?”

You nodded, noticing how her hand went down your cheek, in something terribly similar to a caress, a caress that you joined your hand to, almost crying.

“(Y/N)… I would have liked… to tell you so many things…” she whispered in a calmer tone.

“Donna… what's going on?” you asked with a nervous sob, with your body shaking, but without noticing any strange effect due to that injection. “Donna… no…”

“Go,” Donna whispered. “Vai … Vai!” she shrieked when she saw you weren't moving, pointing at the stairs.

You, scared and confused, obeyed your mistress's order, running up the stairs with the jar in your hand and going up to the attic, observing the hall through one of the cracks in the old wooden floor.

The lady moved nervously from one side to the other, next to her doll. The silence was drowned out by the sound of her heels. You were scared, disoriented, your neck hurt and what was worse; you didn't know what was happening.

Donna suddenly ran until she disappeared from your sight.

“What...?” you murmured, staring at the crack. “What's going on?” you asked yourself, tightly gripping the jar with your hands.

Shortly after, the sound of the front door opening was heard, and someone appeared, slowly entering the mansion. It was a man you had never seen before, with blond hair and clothes that definitely had nothing to do with a villager. He was confused and walked slowly through the mansion… he even carried… something in his hand, it looked like a gun.

When he raised his head to look up, you intuitively stepped back, hugging the jar. That man was looking for something, it was clear… maybe for the jar?

“Mia?” he asked, loudly, echoing off the walls of the mansion. “Mia, are you there?”

“Gods…” you whispered, watching how, unfortunately, he also disappeared from your sight.

He was calling someone, but you had never heard that name before, you didn't know why he did it and then you realized.

You ran a hand over your sore neck, remembering the puncture. That man must have been hallucinating thanks to Donna's powers and the influence of the pollen of the yellow flowers. You had already become accustomed to them, and according to the lady in black, they were harmless if she didn’t exert a certain power over them.

As you could tell from those erratic movements, that man was indeed being caught up in Donna's hallucinations, but you mysteriously weren’t. You came to a hasty conclusion. Maybe the syringe the lady stuck in your neck contained some kind of antidote to make you immune to her influence.

It was quite likely, since everything around you seemed normal, you weren’t hallucinating.

Time went by terribly slowly. Every second seemed like an eternity, the sinister silence of the mansion didn’t help at all. Every now and then, you heard something like a distant scream, surely coming from the basement since you had heard the elevator going down.

Your heart was beating furiously, impatient to know what was happening, urging your mind and body to disobey Donna and get down from the attic. With your patience exhausted and fear covering every inch of your skin, you finally decided to do it.

Slowly, without making any noise, you descended the ladder of the trapdoor, always carrying the jar with you. There was no one in the hall, and you couldn't hear anything. With all the subtlety the wood allowed you, you went down the stairs one by one, walking towards the door that separated the room from the rest of the house.

Breathing with difficulty, trying to step on the carpets so as not to make noise, you approached the door, poking your head through the frame. In the living room, nervous but still, was Donna, playing with her hands, with the Angie doll at her feet, as if she were waiting for something.

You hid again, watching from time to time in case something changed. It didn't seem to. More seconds, minutes... The lady didn't move but her body trembled and you did the same, peeking discreetly.

The metallic sound of the elevator put you on alert again, making a lump form in your throat, watching the living room.

From the hallway came that blond man, disoriented, as if he had, or was living, the worst nightmare of his life. He froze when he saw Lady Beneviento, moving slowly, cautiously towards her.

“Don't leave, I can't let you,” Donna whispered, with a dark and terrifying voice, moving her hand to lift Angie into the air, who began to laugh sinisterly, as always.

“Oh, still alive, huh? You better find me…” the doll said, walking quickly towards the man, who fell to the floor, being attacked by something invisible. “Find me…” Angie hissed, moving away from him and running back to her owner, who picked her up in her arms, running past the intruder.

“Hey, wait!” he shrieked, moving his arms and getting up from the floor, running towards the lady.

“No, no…” you murmured, putting a hand over your mouth, seeing that this invader was carrying scissors in his hand while he searched for the lady around the room.

The man moved around, desperately searching for whatever he was looking at while Donna dodged him, seeming completely invisible to his eyes.

After a few tense moments, the man reached out his hand, managing to reach the black fabric of Donna's dress, pulling it.

“I got you!” he shouted victoriously, stabbing the scissors into the lady's stomach, making her scream in pain.

“Gods…” you said shocked by what you were seeing, completely paralyzed “No… no…”

With one hand on her wound, the doll maker managed to get away from the erratic attacks of the intruder, walking towards you.

You snuck away in fear, hiding in what served as a storage room and suppressing the desire to help Donna, an almost irresistible desire.

The lady slowly climbed the stairs, moaning in pain, leaving a bloody mark on the wall she was leaning against. It was a terrible sight, you couldn't even be completely sure you weren't hallucinating.

The man also climbed the stairs and you couldn't see what happened, but you heard another terrible cry of pain coming from your lady, who appeared even more injured, with a terrible wound on her chest.

Slowly, barely able to stand, she went down the stairs, stumbling and rolling down them until she fell to the floor. Her hands, Angie… Everything was red, covered in blood, her blood.

The man followed her, bewildered, as she crawled along the floor, leaving a red mark on the wood. You couldn't stay there, you had to do something, quickly.

Before you could get out of your hiding place, the man lunged at Donna raising the scissors, about to stab her head while she writhed under his body, moaning, crying in pain and despair.

You couldn't stay there.

“No!” you screamed, leaving the room and lunging at the man just before he dealt Donna the last stab, a fatal one, no doubt. “No, Donna!” you screamed again, knocking the intruder down with a hard blow, throwing him to the floor.

He struggled with you, but something in his gaze suddenly changed, getting up scared.

“W-What...?” he muttered, shaking his head, raising his bloody hands, unable to take his eyes off the lady lying on the floor. “God... what have I done?”

“Donna, Donna…” you said hurriedly, crouching down next to the lady and lifting her body, placing it on your lap.

“(Y/N)…” she whispered, looking at you through her dislodged veil, with an agonized moan.

“Shhh…” you whispered, keeping your hands on the wound on her chest, trying to stop it from bleeding. “Oh, Gods, Gods…”

“Hey!” the man shouted, grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. “What's going on here?”

“Let me go!” you yelled furiously, protecting Donna in your arms and looking at the jar you had dropped on the floor. “Is that what you want? Huh? Then take it and leave!” you screamed furiously.

The man put his hands on his head, nodding and dropping the scissors, lunging angrily towards the jar and running out the mansion.

“Donna… my Donna, please,” you said desperately at the moans of the lady, overwhelmed by her serious wounds, not being able to control them. “There is so much blood… Gods… Angie!”

The doll suddenly appeared with a clumsier than usual step, kneeling in front of her owner.

“(Y/N)…” Donna whispered, slowly raising her hand, a bloody hand. “(Y/N)…”

“Shhh, don't talk, don't talk,” you said desperately, taking off the handkerchief you always wore around your neck and putting it on her wounds. “I-It's nothing, you'll see… I… I'll save you…”

“Per favore…” she whispered, almost without voice. “Ascoltami, per favore…” she insisted, letting her hand fall due to lack of strength.

“Yes, I’m listening, Donna…” you said with tears in your eyes, with your handkerchief wet with blood, with the end that was approaching.

“H-Help me… to… to take this off…” she murmured with her voice broken by pain, weak, almost imperceptible, vaguely pointing to her veil, messy due the fight. “Per favore…”

“The veil?” you asked, pressing her wounds hard, desperate. She nodded slowly, coughing, with a thread of blood coming out of her visible lips.

“Per favore…” Donna insisted, grabbing your dress with a non-existent strength, with fury in her words, with impatience. “I want… I want you to see me… just as I am…”

“It's okay,” you said nervously, stopping pressing and moving the black fabric until it fell to the floor.

You wish it had been another time, you wish you had discovered that beautiful woman before, before losing her irremediably.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, bringing your stained hand to her untouched cheek, running your fingers over her skin, taking in every detail of her one eye, the scar that caused her to always wear that horrible veil. “Oh, Donna…”

“That's better…” the lady sighed, moving her hand up to yours, weakly running it over your cheek. “Y-You haven't had luck with me, have you?”

“Don't say that… N-Nothing's wrong… I'm here with you. I told you that no matter what happened, I'd be with you, Donna,” you said nervously, squeezing her shaking hand tightly. “Gods… we have to do something… stop the bleeding…”

“No,” she said, relaxing her body. “You can't… you can't do anything for me… just… just go, come on… leave me here and try to live a normal life, far away from here.”

“Shut up,” you said furiously, hitting the floor with your fists. “I don't want a normal life, I don't want a life… without, without you,” you said sobbing, giving soft slaps to her cheek because her eye was slowly closing. “No, Donna, don't fall asleep… look at me, please…”

The lady, who could no longer stay awake, smiled. It was a melancholic smile that pierced your heart.

“(Y/N)…” she hissed, giving in to that deep sleep. “Ho… ho freddo…”

“A-Are y-you cold?” you asked as her hand fell to the floor, moving away from your skin. “No, no… Angie, get something, anything!”

“Y-Y-Yes, r-ri-ght-aw-ay…” the doll tried to say. She couldn't speak clearly and suddenly fell to the floor as well. “I-I c-can't… mo-mo-mo-ve…”

“Angie? Angie!?” you yelled as you saw how the doll collapsed, motionless, losing consciousness. That was terrible, but even more terrible was its meaning: Donna was dying.

“No… No… No… No… No!” you screamed, seeing that the lady didn’t react to your touch anymore, she was inert. “No, Donna! Donna…” you whispered with tears traveling down your cheeks, bringing her motionless head closer to yours, caressing her forehead with yours. “No…”

The hand you were holding, that already dead hand, began to crack, making you panic, it seemed as if her body was beginning to disintegrate.

“No! No, please!” you cried desperately. “No! No…!” you stopped screaming when you felt a hand on your shoulder, a hand you didn't know was there.

You looked sideways, scared, seeing how, standing next to you, was the village priestess, the powerful and dangerous Mother Miranda.

Glancing at you briefly but expressionlessly, she crouched down beside you, placing a hand on the dead lady's chest, muttering something.

The cracked hand you were holding shifted, making those ugly cracks disappear under Miranda's focused gaze. That horrible look disappeared from Donna’s skin as you blinked in confusion.

The lady in black opened her eye for a moment, as if she had just revived. Her gaze went to you, but before you could rejoice, she lost consciousness again, but in a different way. Her chest rose and fell slowly, she was alive.

“Mm, I guess the worst is over,” Miranda murmured, not paying attention to you, checking the condition of the Lord. “Hey, you, you are her maid, right?”

“Yes,” you sighed, kneeling on the floor, smearing your face with her blood as you ran your hands through your hair. “I…”

“What are you waiting for?” the blonde asked, picking Donna up from the floor, carrying her in her arms. “Bandages, alcohol and wet towels, now.” she ordered coldly, carrying the unconscious lady to a sofa.

“Yes,” you said, nodding and obeying immediately, glancing sideways at Angie, who, fortunately, had also revived, although she seemed confused.

You quickly grabbed everything you needed. You were so nervous that you didn't have time to be scared or to fear Miranda's presence. After all, she had save Donna.

“Come,” the witch ordered, leaving Donna on a nearby couch, running a hand over her wounds. “Her dress, take it off, now.”

You nodded, bending down and slowly starting to undress your mistress, getting her blood all over you again, unable to think clearly. One by one you undid the buttons on her blouse, carefully removing the sleeves and leaving her wounded chest exposed. The doll maker looked just like one of her dolls, lifeless.

“That's it...” you murmured, leaving the lady lying down again, now without her blouse and her skirt.

The wounds were horrible, fatal if it wasn't who she was, or if Miranda hadn't arrived in time.

“Do you know how to sew, girl?” Miranda asked passing a towel over Donna’s wounds passively, as if her adopted daughter's life wasn't at stake.

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said nervously, while she cleaned the wounds.

With a sinister laugh, Miranda rummaged through a briefcase, taking out a surgical needle and thread.

“Then sew,” she said, handing you the objects in an unpleasant manner. “Think of it as it were a cloth.”

“What? N-No, I can't do this…” you said, shaking your head, overwhelmed by the situation.

“Mm, then don't do it and Donna will die…” the witch said, with a mocking tone. “I have a lot of work keeping her stable. I suppose you don't want to be ungrateful, do you?”

“No, Mother Miranda,” you said, shaking your head, looking away from the woman. “I will try…”

“You will,” she said, with a dark smile, while your trembling hands approached Donna.

Slowly, controlling your nerves, you managed to sew the two stab wounds clumsily, but effectively, or so the priestess's gestures told you.

“Mm, what a mess,” she commented, shaking her head while you cut the thread. “You are a pretty useless maid.”

“I have never done this,” you protested her words, while her golden claws ran over the seams, causing them to close on their own, at least a bit.

“That’s obvious,” Miranda murmured. “Mm, well, I suppose it will do. Bandage, maid, bandage her wounds.”

“Right away,” you said nervously, checking that Donna, your Donna, was still breathing.

After those tense and unpleasant moments, the priestess took Donna to her bed, leaving her there in an unpleasant manner. You, seeing those somewhat rough manners, hurried to move her body and put it under the sheets, covering her lovingly, caressing her hair.

“Everything is going to be okay, Donna…” you whispered in her ear, sitting on the mattress and grabbing her limp hand, squeezing it tightly in yours. “I'm here with you…”

“How sweet, Donna never told me she had a girlfriend,” Miranda commented, letting herself fall into a nearby chair with a mocking gesture.

You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head.

“No, I… I'm just her maid,” you murmured, without stopping caressing the lady, faithfully accompanied by Angie, who, mysteriously, didn't say a single word, simply snuggled up to her owner.

“I see,” the priestess said, looking at her claws with disinterest.

“Mother Miranda,” you said in a low, cautious tone. “That man…”

“Ethan Winters,” she finished. “Don't worry about him. I've already made sure he doesn't bother us anymore.”

“Who was he?” you asked, looking at the lady, who moved unconsciously, probably due to the pain.

“Mm, no one that was you business, maid,” she said amused. “Ah... I guess Rose wasn't the right one, after all.”

“Rose?” you asked curiously.

“You ask a lot of questions, girl,” she said annoyed, to which you lowered your head. “Just take care of Donna, mm? I'm sure I can trust you, right?”

“Of course, Mother Miranda,” you said with a firm voice.

“I assumed so,” she sighed, getting up from the chair and checking the condition of the youngest Lord for the last time. “If she wakes up and gets nervous or has a crisis, inject her with this,” she told you, handing you a syringe. “Relax, it's just a sedative... surely you know that it's easy for Donna to lose her mind.”

“Okay,” you said, taking the object and leaving it on the bedside table. “Is there something she should know? If she wakes up…” you asked again.

“Mm, well, she's probably worried about her siblings. Tell her that they're okay. That Winters vermin made the mistake of coming here first… how predictable…” Miranda muttered. “And above all… don’t let her open her wounds, oh, and change the bandage, if the wounds get infected… none of this will have served any purpose.”

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said, without paying any more attention to her

She gave you one last intriguing look and disappeared from the bedroom. Hours passed, you didn’t know how many, a time that seemed eternal while you watched the unconscious lady, while you caressed her in silence, praying for her to open her eye.

She didn’t. Donna slept all day and all night. Of course you listened to Miranda’s advice, and you took care of her even forgetting about yourself. You didn’t know how much time had passed, in that place it was difficult to tell, but you didn’t move from there, not until her hand, which you held relentlessly, began to move.

“Mm…” a hoarse murmur caught your attention and you woke up from that kind of light sleep you were living in.

“Donna, Donna…” you said nervously, watching as she moved in pain, trying to get up. “No, no, Donna, don't get up, you'll open your wounds.”

“(Y/N)?” she asked confused. “Oh, cazzo…” she complained as she moved, lying back down on the bed with an agonizing moan.

“Don't move… that's it…” you said, lowering her body and covering it with the sheets. “Calm down, calm down…”

“I-I… what am I doing here?” Donna asked tiredly, looking at her bandaged body. “(Y/N), I… died…”

“No, no Donna. Mother Miranda saved you just in time,” you explained in a calm voice, running a hand through her hair, across her forehead, which had started to sweat.

“Mother Miranda?” she asked, hissing in pain. “Oh no… No, no!”

“D-Donna… what's wrong?” you asked, scared by her abrupt reaction. “Are you feeling sick? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“I’ve failed! She trusted me and I've failed her!” the lady shrieked, moving dangerously, hitting the mattress with her hands.

“Shh, no, no… don't do that… you, you'll hurt yourself,” you said nervously, controlling her movements, watching her bandage. “Donna, please…”

“I had to protect Rose, and I’ve failed!” she shrieked again, pushing you unpleasantly.

The Angie doll moved, comically hiding behind you, fleeing from the irrational fury of her owner.

“Donna,” the puppet said. “Listen to (Y/N)…”

“Sono una stupida!” Donna shrieked, changing anger into desperate crying, covering her head with her hands. “Stupida, stupida, stupida!”

“No, that's enough,” you said, grabbing her wrists, truly scared “Donna, no!”

“Get away!” she screamed, pushing you to the floor and getting out of the bed, almost tripping in the process, doubling over herself. “I-I have to help them… he’s going after them…”

“Donna, please,” you said, getting up from the floor and holding her shoulders, watching as her wounds began to bleed again. “You can’t move, please…”

“Lasciami!” she shrieked, pushing you away again. “They need me!”

“They’re okay, Donna, your siblings are okay, Mother Miranda said that…” you said, trying to reason with her.

The lady looked at you with a fiery eye, falling to the floor after a cry of pain, grabbing her stomach with her hands.

“Donna!” you screamed, bending down to help her. “Please… t-they’re okay, it’s all over…”

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” she hissed, holding your gaze. “You’re with him, right? You did this to me!” she shouted angrily, growling and lunging at you, her hands around your throat.

“No, it's not true! Donna, please!” you cried, unable to move in case you hurt her more, desperately searching for something on the nightstand.

“Bad Donna, she didn't do anything!” Angie screamed, adding a little more to the chaos that had formed.

“Angie…” you said with a choked voice. “Angie, the syringe…”

“Right,” the doll said, bringing you the sedative, which you immediately stuck into the brunette's neck.

“You bitch!” Donna yelled, putting a hand on her neck. “You will pay…! You will pay for… for this,” she said, losing her voice, collapsing on top of you, completely sedated.

“Gods…” you said with her unconscious body in your arms, looking at Angie with fear. “Gods, Donna. A-Angie, help me to get her into bed.”

They were especially difficult days, but, luckily, Donna calmed down, making your care even easier. Little by little, her physical wounds were healing, but the emotional ones were still very present.

The lady in black spent a whole week without speaking to you, until that day.

“That's it… slowly,” you said, while you calmly gave her some soup, almost as if you were feeding a child. “Is it too hot?”

Donna shook her head, making her hair, now loose, move hypnotically.

“Okay… Hey, you look really beautiful with your hair like that, you should let it down more often,” you said amused, checking the bandage condition. “Look, you're not bleeding anymore, Donna, you're better.”

“You could have left,” she whispered for the first time, getting your attention, making the spoon you were holding tremble in your hand.

“What are you talking about? Come on, just one more…” you said in a loving voice, bringing the soup closer to her mouth, soup that she rejected with a childish grunt. “Donna… don't be… Ugh…”

“Why didn't you leave?” she asked, making you desperate but sigh and leave the plate on the table.

“I told you I didn't want to leave,” you whispered, cleaning her maternally with a napkin. “Do you want a yogurt?”

“I want answers, (Y/N),” Donna demanded, with a dangerous look. “Mother Miranda managed to deal with the problem, but… what if she hadn’t?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, absentmindedly fixing her hair, holding her intense gaze.

“Things could have gone much worse, I could have died, me, my siblings, even Mother Miranda…” Donna murmured, looking away. “There was no point in staying here.”

“For me, there was,” you whispered, with a sad look, arranging the sheets. “I’m your maid.”

“Maid… Ha…” she murmured, shaking her head with a mocking smile. “How long are you going to use that stupid excuse? You don’t owe me anything. No one in this fucking village owes us anything, (Y/N)… Why do you insist on staying?”

“Because of you,” you said with a dry voice and wet eyes. “I care about you, Donna.”

“Mm, what stupidity, I don’t care about you,” she said in a childish way, turning her head but looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

You laughed at that behavior and shook your head.

“Really? Oh, well… I think you asked me to take off your veil… what it was like… so I could see what you were really like,” you mocked, settling yourself on the mattress.

“Nonsense, I was dying,” she said, with a proud look.

“Yes, maybe it’s nonsense…” you sighed, picking up the tray. “You should rest. I will come in a while to heal you, okay?”

“(Y/N),” she said, with a cold, but different tone. “Why do you insist so much on making me believe that you care about me?”

“Because I care about you,” you said, not ending the conversation, sitting back down. “More than you think…”

“It was a lie,” the lady said out of the blue, making you blink confused and frown. “Actually… I care about you, (Y/N).”

“I know,” you whispered with a tender smile, one that she returned. “I know, Donna…”

“I didn't want to tell you because… I knew that if I did, you would never leave,” she commented distractedly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “But… I don't just care about you, (Y/N)…”

“Donna…” you sighed nervously.

“I think… I think I love you,” she whispered in a barely audible voice, playing with the sheets.

“You love me…” you repeated incredulously while she nodded. “Is that why you wanted me to leave? Because you love me?”

“Yes, I… I…” she said, confused too, nervous. “I didn't want someone like you… to have to go through this. I wanted you to be happy, (Y/N).”

You, a bit disoriented, but sure, approached her, softly placing your lips on hers, leaving her speechless, with her eye wide open.

“Mm, well you… you must focus on recover, okay?” you said nervously, fluffing her pillow. “When you're feeling better maybe… maybe you'd like to try to be happy with me…”

“(Y/N),” Donna said, moving her hand to yours as you got out of bed, regretting your involuntary act. “I don't want to wait… kiss me again, please…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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syluscrows · 1 month ago

Text

Kitty cat [Sylus & reader]

Okay, so basically, you turn into a cat. That's the story. Oh and you get a sneak peak into how sweet Sylus can be.

Note: I hope this isn't a cringe fanfic, I was inspired by Sylus saying we would have to take care of Mephisto if he were to turn into a cat 😭😭 I haven't owned a cat in years, so I'm purely going off of how the few cats I've met act normally lol

Contents: pure fluff, humor, not proofread, quite a long fic

'Where am I??' You thought, looking around curiously. 'why do I feel so strange?' You had no idea how it happened, you were quite literally just sitting on your couch, looking at your phone, when your vision went white.. and when you came to, you felt so.. strange.

You tried to stand up, but.. why was that so difficult? It felt so strange, you slowly reached out, looking down, only to be met with two h/c paws?! You tried to speak, but you.. meowed? 'What the fuck!'

You're not sure how, but it's like your body went into panic mode, and somehow taught you how to use your new legs, as you ran to the mirror, only to be met with a fluffy cat staring back at you. 'How.. is this even possible?'

You jumped back up on the couch, relieved that your phone was still open. Who do I even call in this situation..? Sylus can't come all the way here for this.. 'Tara must be nearby!' You thought as you clumsily pawed at the screen, thankful that if you tried hard enough it picked up your touch. You smacked your paw down on the screen, hearing the dial tone begin .

"hey! What's up y/n?"

"meow meow! Meow! Meow!" Oh shoot. It completely slipped your mind, you're a cat! Of course you can't talk! You tried to paw at the hang up button, only to hear a loud shriek on the other side, making you physically feel your fur stand up in shock. "OMG! A cat?! Y/n, did you get a cat? Why aren't you talking?!" You felt defeated, knowing you couldn't possibly.. wait.. what if you sent her a picture? You pawed at the screen again, skillfully navigating to the camera app and taking a photo, of the ceiling, and again, of the ceiling, before finally capturing the top half of your face in the photo, pressing send rapidly. Much to your disappointment tara only responded with "aww! Y/n your cat is so cute! What's it's name?"

Unfortunately, you soon discovered your biggest challenge yet, typing. You attempted to type a message to Tara, sending it desperately, but seeing that you simply typed "hdjdcccgdsxxxxxd". Great. What were you going to do?! You knew if you turned up to Tara's apartment she would just cuddle you to death, she wouldn't catch on to the situation at all.. who was close by who you knew would be home.. who would potentially be able to catch on if you try hard enough..?

That's when it hit you. Your only option in this situation was sylus.. you knew Zayne would be busy, Rafayel is terrified of cats, and Xavier... Who knows where he would be right now? But sylus, he's the most likely to be at home right now, and if not, Luke and Kieran must be around!

You abandon your phone, Tara still on the line repeating your name, as you jump down, mentally thanking yourself for opening your window as you jump down. It's not that far, sylus's mansion, and honestly going through the n109 zone as a cat must be a million times safer than going as a human..

You make your way through the street, suddenly painfully aware of how terrifying it must be to function day to day as a cat, dodging dozens of feet swinging your way, the amount of cars shooting past you.. it's so intimidating! Everything is so much bigger than you, you feel like if you stopped for a moment you could get crushed. You decide to take a shortcut, hopping up on top of a building, which honestly you impress yourself by doing, as you jump roof to roof, heading towards the n109 zone.

You're surprised by how fast you get there, reaching his door, you feel a flood of relief. Surely he will know what to do.. but once again, you're faced with an obstacle. How the fuck were you planning to get inside? Does this man even open his windows..? You looked around the building for an entry point, relieved to see his bedroom window was open slightly. You mentally remind yourself to thank him later for that.

You hop inside, seeing nobody in sight. Now you have to be careful, you need to find him, avoiding Luke and Kieran.. although they may catch on faster than you think, they may also take advantage of the situation, or they may just be too dumb to realise, and you'll be stuck playing dress up or being taught tricks.. you physically shiver at the thought, pushing it away as you make your way to sylus's lounge.

You see him sitting there, reading a book, and you can't resist running over and jumping up on his lap.

"oh, hello there, who are you?" He says, his voice toothrottingly sweet, as his scarlet eyes peer down at you. "Meeow!" You put a paw up on his chest, looking at him, mentally chanting 'it's me! Please notice it's me!'. Sylus puts his book aside, and you see a huge, genuine smile spread across his face. "I haven't seen you before, aren't you cute? You don't have a collar.. are you a stray?" Oh my god. You were so going to tease him for this later. This was the most gentle you've ever seen him, even around you he is sweet, but he seems to unknowingly put up a protective barrier around his own pride, never letting himself get too sappy or clingy around you.

You suddenly feel his hand on your head, and oh my gosh. You realise why cats enjoy this so much! You feel instantly so relaxed, bowing your head as he scratches the top of it, in-between your ears. Before you know it, a persistent vibration rings throughout your body. You're purring. And oh boy does it make this feel 100x better. You find yourself completely letting go, laying down in his lap as he continues to pet your head. This can't possibly be what heaven is, right? It sure as hell feels close enough. You find yourself wishing you could always be a cat, with this attention. "What a good kitty you are" he says in a playful voice. No way did you just hear him put on a baby voice! The most feared man in the n109 zone, cooing at you..

You almost completely lost your original objective, suddenly breaking apart from the attention to jump over to his coffee table, sitting on it as you persistently meow at him. "What, do you want something to eat?" He says, his voice still so gentle and pure. "Don't worry, kitty, I'm always prepared, come along now" he says, letting out soft "pspsps"'s as he walks to his kitchen. Your mind was racing, you were in utter shock at how sweet he was being towards you. You knew he liked cats, but wow, this was a completely different side of him. You watched as he grabbed a bowl. Oh wow.. this man IS prepared, he has cat food, and cat bowls.. hes so welcoming to your presence, he must do this for a lot of cats.

You watch him prepare a meal for you, placing it down Infront of you as he crouches down. "Go on, you must be hungry kitty." Ew. No. No way. I'm not eating that brown sludge. As much as you appreciated it, you shook your head, which seemed to surprise Sylus. "Oh, you don't want it?" He said. You had to figure out a way to tell him it's you! As cute as it was to be pampered by him, you couldn't stay like this forever..

You jumped up on the dining table, meowing as you walked back and fourth, trying your best to communicate with him. "what are you trying to tell me, hm?" He said, once again with that dumb baby voice. You then had an idea, jumping down and meowing, kind of in an instructive tone, trying to make him follow you.

You lead him to his bedroom, as you remembered he had a photo of you in there, as you jumped up on the bedside table and pawed at it, knocking it flat but persisting as you smacked your paw up and down on it. "Hm? The photo..?" He said, grabbing it and looking at it. "You like this picture?" He looked at you, confused, but still with a sweet, soft expression. "Her name is y/n, I think she would like you. You'll have to come by when shes here, perhaps.". You flattened your ears, putting on an irritated face to the best of your ability, walking over to him and hitting his stomach with your paw, as you continued to meow. "Hm? What is it?" He looked at you confused, as he placed down the photo.

"Do you want me to pick you up?" He said again, and despite you meowing in protest, he did so. His arms were so warm, and you felt your body relax. Thats right, cats love warmth.. and they especially loved being wedged in small spaces. No, no, you shook away the relaxation, once again pressing down on his arm with your paws. "Oh, are you making biscuits?" If you could, you would absolutely face palm in this moment. You thought surely, Sylus would've noticed something by now.. you jumped out of his arms again, running towards the end table and desperately pawing at the photo. "You really do like that photo, huh?" Cmon sylus, you thought to yourself. You tried your best to mimick pointing at yourself with your paw, as you continued to meow. "I'm afraid I don't understand, kitty." He chuckled in a playful voice. He must've thought you were just being a silly cat.. "do you think she's pretty?" He said, catching you off guard. "Hm, we are very similar in our opinions then." He followed. It was so sweet, the way he spoke to you as a cat, and the way he spoke about you as a human..

You jumped to the bed, laying down as you thought of any other way you could tell him you're trapped in a cat's body.. but it seemed impossible. Everything you did, he just thought you were being silly.

He sat next to you, on the bed, petting your back as he looked at you with a gentle expression. You then had an idea, but you weren't sure if he would catch on. You started clawing at his pocket, the pocket that had his phone at it, meowing louder and louder, and he chuckled. "What's wrong, miss cat?" He looked down at you with a smile on his face. You had to resist scratching him at this point. "Hm? You want to lay on my phone? I guess cats do like the warmth." He said, placing his phone down on the bed. Ugh! So close! You thought to yourself, as you began to paw at the screen, cursing him mentally for having a lock screen password. "Oh, I know what you'll like!" You watched in anticipation as he opened his phone, scrolling through.

He has a fucking cat toy app on his phone. One of those apps where things fly across the screen for the cat to paw at. You stared at the screen, flicking your tail in annoyance as you attempted to spam the home button. Success! You thought as you landed on the home screen, but much to your disappointment, he chuckled and tapped on the game again. 'your love of cats will be the death of me, Sylus..'. you pressed the home screen again, and this time, he just watched curiously, with an amused expression. It frustrated you how hard it was to navigate a phone with your paws, since they took up much more space on the screen than your fingers would. You manage to press on the messages, tapping on your conversation.

Suddenly, Sylus grabbed his phone from the bed. Oh hell no. You let out an angry meow, which he raised his eyebrow at. "Hey now, calm down. I can't have you looking through my messages." He said, as he began typing, before you saw him angle the phone in your direction. Oh. He's taking a picture.

Despite your desperation, Sylus continued to not catch on. You had been here for hours at this point, and sylus has now left to go to the bathroom, getting ready to go to sleep. You felt so frustrated. How would you tell him?

You heard him come out of the bathroom, he was already in his nightwear, as he smiled at you. "You're still here, kitty cat?" He said, as he sat on the bed, petting you. You had to admit, seeing this side of him was so sweet, but you still felt frustrated that he hadn't caught on. He slipped under the covers, looking over at you. "You can stay here if you'd like." He said. You knew if this was any other cat, he would just be talking to himself at this point. It was quite sweet, knowing he was so oblivious...

You gave in, laying next to him, enjoying the feeling of his presence. You heard him open a book, mentally sighing as you realised he wasn't going to sleep yet. You always scolded him over text when he was up for hours on end, knowing he's one to pull many all nighters. Partially, you understood, he has to be on guard at all times. You made your way onto his lap, laying down as he continued to read his book. You felt so calm, just enjoying how relaxing it was to lay down like this, and realising how nice it feels to be a cat, absorbing a person's warmth and taking up their space.. no wonder they do it so often.

Sylus continued to read as you felt yourself dozing off, but a sudden tingling feeling came over you, and before you knew it, you were a human again.

You looked down at your hands, a wave of relief rushing over you, before you realized, you were still on Sylus' lap.

"I was wondering when you'd change back." He said with a smirk. "What?! You're kidding me! You knew?!", which drew a chuckle out of him. "I knew from the moment I saw you, kitty." You rolled your eyes, moving off of his lap. "Seriously, you could've said something.. the whole reason I came here is so you could figure out how to turn me back." "Well.. I was thinking of helping you until you scratched me." He said with an annoying smirk and a teasing tone. "You're such an asshole."

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds #lnds headcanons #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #lads imagine

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messiahzzz · 8 months ago

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Hello! I love your meta-analysis of BG3 and share many of the same opinions concerning our boy, Gale. I have an interesting question for you concerning the orbs "volatility" in relation to intimacy (both physical and non-physical). I used to believe it was cannon that Gale couldn't engage in physical intimacy because the Orb may detonate, but when I played as Gale I was able to sleep with Astarion. This is in contrast to when I played as Karlach and couldn't touch anyone.

So, all of this is to ask whether Gale's dialogue at the tiefling party was him protecting himself emotionally or if he truly thought that any excitement would trigger the Orb (ironic given they are fighting for their lives daily)? Additionally is this why the Weave scene only features an imagined kiss rather than a physical one?

thank you so much for the questions!! i’m very glad you enjoy reading my posts 💕

gale: with my condition being as volatile as it is, i fear any undue, er, excitement, may tip it over the edge. so to speak.

i do believe that gale was being honest in regards to avoiding physical/emotional excitement concerning the orb. his first and foremost priority is to make sure to avoid as many potential triggers as possible, being fully aware of the catastrophe that will occur if he doesn’t keep an eye on his condition at all times. fighting is inevitable given the situation the group found themselves in. on top of that, every single day for the past year alone has quite literally been a life or death situation for him, wondering how much longer he can hold on until the orb inevitably takes over. i also think that he has experienced his fair share of horrors and tough fights in his past, considering his status as an archmage, as well as him being mystra’s chosen. even with his now diminished powers & the tadpole in his head he still remains in his element. magic is his life, it comes as easy to him as breathing.

gale: i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet.

more importantly, the devnotes also proof that the orb is indeed the reason for his deflection during the tiefling party:

gale: i see. then perhaps we see each other in the same light after all. a resplendent one, flush with warmth and anticipation, but one which i must shy away from, for now. node context: still flustered, but pleased to learn you like him romantically. then getting to the point - he can't do anything until the orb is dealt with.

if tav directly tells him to cease the perceived flirting, he will reveal that he considered their relationship to be a "budding romance" at this stage.

player: if this is an attempt at flirting, you should stop. i'm not interested. gale: right. understood. you shall hear no more on the subject from me. gale: consider this budding romance thoroughly nipped. though i hope our friendship need not come to such an abrupt end.

yet at the same time, he is also completely flustered if tav is the one who initiates the flirting:

player: do you like having your belly rubbed? gale: the pleasures i experienced in mystra's embrace go far beyond the pleasures of having one's tummy tickled. i remember once, she took the smallest piece of the weave and made it into- gale: wait. are you saying... nodecontext: taking the question seriously, missing the flirtatious side of it. nodecontext: realizing that the player was flirting, getting flustered

regardless of which flirt option tav chooses to pick, the outcome remains the same:

gale: you know what, i think i've clearly had far too much wine. and you've had nowhere near enough. i think this is a conversation best held back on - for now. nodecontext: flustered, hesitating to explicitly say what he thinks you were offering, then backtracking altogether

while battle naturally is always accompanied by the unpredictable, (as well as the dread of facing a yet unknown enemy) i don’t think he experiences quite the same amount of trepidation as where matters of the heart are concerned. or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it’s an altogether different kind.

the budding relationship with tav is once again unfamiliar territory for him after all those years he went without mortal intimacy, years that have been spent with mystra instead. it’s understandable that he exercises caution at all times, knowing what’s at stake if he lets go for but merely a moment. i also believe gale to be a character who generally goes “all out” once he chooses to be intimate with someone. we know that he doesn’t do casual trysts, friends-with-benefits arrangements, or anything of the sort. instead he wants to build a deep connection first. gale is a romantic through and through, he only feels comfortable being intimate once it has been explicitly established that the emotions he feels for tav are indeed wholly reciprocated. gale puts his whole heart into everything he does, he would’ve felt that it was a disservice to tav if he was only able to give them (according to him) even less than the remaining fragments of a broken man he has to offer — once he decides to give himself, he gives himself fully.

another added factor, however, is that the tiefling party simply wasn’t the right time for him yet, even if he already felt some attraction to them. part of him perhaps would’ve liked to go a bit further, be more direct about his growing fondness for them. spending a night together, just enjoying each other's company, talking until the sun rises, perhaps even sharing their first kiss if he felt that the timing was right — but i don’t think he would’ve considered this to be the appropriate stage in their relationship to sleep with tav either way. orb or no.

gale also tells us this much during the Last Night Alive scene, as well as during the conversation after you just met tara. in an ideal situation he would’ve taken his time, courted tav properly, said it all better.

gale: if things were different, if we were home, i'd have taken the time to do things properly. to say it all better. but time is short.

gale: i always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. this wasn't quite what i had pictured. gale: i thought we'd be in waterdeep. you, curled up before a crackling hearth while i prepared us a ridiculously extravagant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce.

time is short.

i always headcanoned gale to be on the demi spectrum. that he needs to build a close bond before sexual intimacy is something that even remotely occurs to him. tav is an anomaly in this regard — he knows he deeply cares for them, emotions that developed even in the short, few months they've known each other, and that he doesn’t have the luxury of time to let their relationship unfold in all the many ways he dreamed of. all he knows is that he loves tav, wholly and truly. and that, by the gods, he has to make the most out of the few extra heartbeats he’s been given. even if his death is inevitable, he will at least be able to show them the depths of his affection. leave them with shared memories of pure tenderness, a knowledge of a love so profound that it might perhaps even prevail way beyond his passing.

player: what about all we shared together? are you just going to give up? gale: this isn't giving up it's securing victory, at a price i am willing to pay. and everything we shared can live on - with you.

i wouldn’t necessarily say that gale was trying to “protect himself emotionally” during the tiefling party, but rather acted accordingly to the horrifying circumstances the tadpole gang (and especially he himself) find themselves in. i don’t think gale ever really considers a romanced!tav as someone he needs to be guarded around. evident in the way he immediately throws all doors open without any sign of hesitation once he has their assurance that their love is indeed mutual. gale pours his heart out to them regardless, not knowing whether his feelings are truly returned. he is not a character who shies away from being vulnerable by any means. he is an open book, that tav is free to peruse in as they see fit. a slither of trust is all he needs.

during the weave scene the connection abruptly fades once tav either imagines passionately kissing him or holding his hand during a romantic walk. a scene that again shows that he is genuinely stunned by what he’s being shown. after all, it doesn't happen often that gale of waterdeep is at a loss for words.

gale: i... i didn't think... narrator: *you perceive quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.* gale: sorry, i wasn't expecting... but it is a pleasant image to be sure! gale: most pleasant, in fact. most welcome. nodecontext: warm, with real affection

i do believe the weave scene in particular to be a turning point for him. sort of an epiphany. the first moment in which he realizes that he actually might like the idea of eventually being with tav as perhaps more than a friend. that he is filled with fondness whenever they’re near and that he is excited to see where their joined travels lead them next.

player: when i said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. what does that really mean? gale: if i recall correctly, the waterdhavian dictionary of the common tongue of faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. gale: you see, i'm not a big believer in fate, but i do believe in serendipity. gale: life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. gale: you're one such event that, one day soon perhaps, i'd like to embrace.

given my personal hc of gale being demisexual, i genuinely don’t believe that he entertained the thought before that. he was way too preoccupied with other more pressing concerns. his overall condition, the tadpole, mourning the loss of his powers, still dealing with a lingering sense of loneliness and melancholy. a yearning for better times, as well as disillusionment of being cast out and left behind, even if he has already worked through his romantic feelings for mystra and their unilaterally ended relationship by then.

gale: i'm hardly pining. it's been a year or more since mystra cast me aside.

tav’s advances genuinely catch him off guard, which is, according to my interpretation, also the reason why their shared connection abruptly faded. a general loss of focus. gale immediately bidding tav goodnight to reflect on the situation and sort through his thoughts again shows that this wasn’t how he expected this moment of teaching to unfold. it seems rather uncharacteristic of him to initiate a kiss in this specific scenario. tav was testing the waters, whether it happened intentionally or not, and gale found himself pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.

i also believe that we generally shouldn’t use origin playthroughs as a cross-reference for the actual canon. larian approached each story with more or less detail and there are already so many inconsistencies present that have been pointed out by other players. instead we should see origin pts as an oc kind of scenario — larian handing us the reigns of each origin character, a way for us to have fun and figure out all the atrocities we could possibly come up with. sort of like playing with our own set of barbies. (“go nuts, show nuts” as tunglr staff put it back in the day) for example, playing as w*ll doesn’t lock you out of raiding the grove and spending a steamy night with m*nth*ra right after either. which is something that contradicts everything he stands for/something he wouldn't naturally do. even if you try to play an origin character as close to their canon portrayal as possible, you will still encounter several contradictions and discrepancies during the duration of your game. larian sadly also has a chronic pattern of overlooking gale in terms of content, fixes, and overall responsiveness. so it’s easy to conclude that his origin story simply hasn’t been fleshed out to the same extent & treated with the same amount of care and consideration that certain other characters received. (which is awfully ironic considering he’s been proven to be the most popular origin character, but i digress)

basically, this has been my very long-winded way of saying: the reason why gale refuses to be intimate with tav pre-orb stabilization is indeed because he is afraid of the orb accidentally detonating during a moment of carelessness and/or indulgence, as well as because of gale’s own preferences when sex & romance are concerned.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #long post #asks #gale's romance is the most delicious kind of slow-burn #or well. it would be if larian had actually bothered to put the same care and resources into his story #instead of merely cutting content and deciding to do a 180 #it speaks #please don't check for grammar i wrote this in a rush

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u5an5 · 4 months ago

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So. About the Anchor Beings.

(prepare for a long post)

The hows and whys on how they work are really confusing but after reading others ramble about it I've got my own theories that I'd like to put into one whole picture.

First: How can Logan being dead affect the movie universe when it takes place in 2024 while Logan is set in 2029 and if the Logan that died isn't from Wades timeline then how can it affect it?

To answer the first one: The timeline we are seeing isn't the same one in which Logan takes place. Apparently it branches off somewhere between X-Men Origins: Wolverine and The Wolverine movies (at least according to Marvel Wiki) into a separate timeline than the Days of Future Past. This is the Bad Ending timeline, Wolverine doesn't go back in time, everyone dies.

Logan going back in time in Days of Future Past led to creation of a completely new timeline: The one where the mutant genocide never happens. The universe in which Wade lives is most likely a branch of it or the main line itself.

And yes, timeline, because acording to the Marvels list of Earths, this one is a completely separate being. I imagine it look something like this:

Technically speaking it's a branch of the DoFP, but events that caused it to happen had to be overwriten for it to happen in the first place so they actually never took place in this timeline.

Still with me? Great.

Now I'm going to talk about how I think the Anchor Beings work. It will be super important for the next point.

In my opinion, a being becomes the Anchor Being when their actions cause enough changes to create a new timeline and/or big branch. The death of the Anchor Being doesn't cause the death of the universe, the lack of Anchor Beings afterwards does.

The branch dies off only if in the thousands of years needed for it to corode there is no new Anchor Being - the tree doesn't grow because it's dead, the timeline is dead because it doesn't grow.

Logan literally created this whole timeline, of course he would be the Anchor Being. His death at one point on another, albeit sad, wouldn't be (literal) end of the world because somone in the future would probably pick up the mantle and the timeline would go on.

(Why are we seeing scenes from Logan then? one, because it probably happened in a similiar way, two, because his death in this specific universe is the one all fans care about)

It wasn't anything dire up until Paradox decided to meddle. He, unsatisfied with watching how it maybe-maybe-not slowly dies off, decided to speed it up, taking the chance for another Anchor Being to appear away by going from thousand years of waiting to up to three days.

In a twist of irony, by doing so he set off the events of Deadpool & Wolverine, which caused probably one of if not the fastest events that lead the titular characters to become the Anchor Being - yes, singular, because they are equaly responsible for what happened.

And what happened? New branch was created of course! (if not entirely separate timeline) Which looks something like this:

(It would also explain why Logan wasn't flickering after spending so much time in "not his" universe - due to being one of it's creators, regardless if he originated from it, it is his timeline.)

Separate timeline would make more sense because it is their first appearance in MCU (which would also factor into it being literally separate timeline) and it is Deadpool story (and writers really like to bully him and make him experience Events)

The speed at which they became Anchor Being may also explain why everyone from TVA was so surprised - usually it takes up to milenias and these guys speedruned it from not knowing the concept existed to being a potential option to being the option in less than 72 hours (or the shocking part was that somone from competely different universe was able to become one, idk)

Anyway, this is my atempt at piecing the info we've got into one thing. I'm curious what you guys think

#i think the events that caused somone to become an Anchor Being should be called the Moorings/the Mooring Events #it just fits imo #eventually Branching #deadpool & wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool #wolverine #worst wolverine #x men #marvel mcu #marvel theory #deadpool theory #ryan reynolds #d&w #ramblings #theory #worldbuilding

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utilitycaster · 9 months ago

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Hi there, I saw in one of your tags recently that "if you think the raven queen was being unfair, I'm not really interested in your opinions." I was wondering if you could talk a little more about that because I'll be honest, Vax isn't my favorite character but I've seen all of C1 and I really don't get why some people HATE the RQ, call her unfair, manipulative and pretty plainly say this moon conflict is mostly her fault because she took Vax and through a Domino effect Ludinus is releasing Predathos. Also, I enjoy your theories and analysis for CR so much you got me listening to Midst, so thank you.

Hi anon,

Great question! This is going to be a very long post, with a relatively short initial answer, because there is both the literal misinterpretation that indicates this is not someone with strong analytical skills nor knowledge of canon, and a number of potential mindsets that lead to this manner of thinking in the first place, none of which I respect. You happen to have sort of hit upon the foundational elements of my whole deal re: CR meta, so, buckle in.

The first part is simple: Vex died because Percy triggered a trap before she'd been healed up. We've seen this sort of trap elsewhere in non-divine contexts (Folding Halls of Halas); it's just a form of trap. A particularly nasty one, but this is for a very powerful relic she doesn't want falling into the wrong hands, and, moreover, the party could have likely disabled it either through rogue skills or magic had Percy waited. Vax, then, as the third part of the resurrection ritual, told the Raven Queen to take him instead of Vex. The Raven Queen did precisely as he asked. He did not need to offer this (Scanlan was going to make an offering, the other parts of the ritual had gone well, it was Vex's first death so the DC was low, and Vax could have made any number of other, less dramatic offers), and he did so with the understanding that he would die in lieu of Vex, right then and there. He did not. I think that's the only case, actually, where the Raven Queen was not 100% upfront with her intentions before Vax accepted something; but he offered it voluntarily. Vax was a person who formed extremely intense connections, to the point where it was perhaps unhealthy, and did not believe life without his sister was worth living, and was willing to sacrifice himself to a god.

Everything after that was extremely straightforward. Vax communed with the Raven Queen, who spoke very directly with him in his vision in the Raven's Crest. She was extremely clear when she met with him following his disintegration: he was given the option to refuse her offer, and he took it instead. It is not manipulative to give someone a difficult decision, and if a character you like makes a choice you don't like, it is not automatically the result of manipulation.

As for the moon conflict being her fault…that is, to put it bluntly, unhinged, and what's more, ironic given that that's the manipulative argument. Ludinus tried to commune with Ruidus using a random crystalline artifact beneath Molaesmyr, centuries before Vax was born. He was going to do this regardless. If he couldn't get Vax, he'd get some other sliver of divinity, and what's more, it's been all but stated that Vax is not actually supposed to be leaving the Shadowfell to protect Keyleth, and is disobeying the Raven Queen directly (and it's been stated that this isn't necessarily helpful for Keyleth, who is trying to grieve and move on). So: Vax made his choices with the knowledge of what they entailed, is trying to bend if not break the conditions to which he agreed with full knowledge in a way that probably isn't healthy for him or Keyleth, and it's bananas to be like "wow look at how the Raven Queen made Ludinus try to free Predathos." Like. Even if she had tricked Vax, which she didn't, Ludinus literally could have just kept on his racist imperialistic longevitymaxxing beat indefinitely and left the moon well enough alone. The domino meme is a meme. I mean, while we're at it, couldn't we trace it back to Vecna instead, for killing Vax with Disintegrate in the first place, since had he not done so, Vax would have either survived that fight or would have been resurrected normally? Or perhaps it's Percy for triggering that trap. Or the Chroma Conclave for being the reason why Vox Machina was seeking the Deathwalker's Ward in the first place…but that only happened because Allura and Kima didn't kill Thordak but rather sealed him, and because a priestess of Melora cursed Raishan so that she had reason to ally with Thordak. We can go on indefinitely; the point is, to assign blame specifically to the Raven Queen when Ludinus literally did not have to do a goddamn thing with the moon is a fucking stupid take.

Below the cut, I talk root causes behind why people might decide the Raven Queen was unfair and come up with the above nonsensical argument to support that, since I don't think people say stupid things just to be stupid.

I think one root cause for this mentality of this is that the person in question wishes Vax hadn't died and is looking for someone to blame because they don't want to blame Matt Mercer and Liam O'Brien, even though yeah, that's who to blame. The thing is, as we learned in Campaign 2, character death is quite literally on the table. Had Vax not made his bargain, either in episode 1x103 or his original one during Vex's resurrection? He might have simply remained dead. Had he not given his life for Vex's, he was pursuing paladin anyway with the Everlight, and we don't know what she'd have required of him. But more importantly, for all people like to bring up a PC-centric perspective (which, in Actual Play, is inevitable) Vox Machina's frequent use of resurrection spells was in fact a massive privilege most people in Exandria do not have. And, unsurprisingly for a table whose DM made up rules specifically to make resurrection more difficult, the Critical Role cast is open to a story where death exists. I do not think it's an accident that resurrection has been made even harder in the subsequent campaigns. I also happen to think that Campaign 1 is a far richer and better story with Vax's death, given the other events that occurred. Had Vax not been the sort of person who would offer his life for a god to take in exchange for his sister? Sure, he'd possibly have lived to the end. But he was, and that's the character those people who wish he were still alive loved. If he wasn't that person, they wouldn't have liked him in the same way.

D&D is fundamentally about exceptional characters becoming more powerful, and will be focused on those characters. I do not think D&D supports a story about characters who reject all power. They can give up political power (the Mighty Nein, for the most part, do this - certainly more so than Vox Machina, and Bells Hells is yet to be seen) but they will progress in levels, which is power. Even if unwanted, it is power, because most people in the world are commoners with 5 HP and 10 in all their stats. With that said, a lot of people desperately want a subversion of this power narrative. Vax is, I think, the closest we get. In D&D you are not going to get a player character who finishes a campaign and remains Just Some Guy. But you can have someone like Vax, who doesn't have any interest in power (compare to Vex, who very much is about power and who gets a much happier ending) who nonetheless ends up on the Tal'Dorei Council and the favored of a god…and yet, in the end, his equally powerful friends still can do nothing to save him. I think a Power Bad story is overly simplistic, but "there are limits to power, and ultimately none of us have complete control" is not. I think Vax's death gives the story of Vox Machina a finality and heft that it would lack otherwise.

A second possible cause is the "What if the gods are BAD" argument. I'm going to be totally honest: I did not see this in the fandom until Campaign 3, and honestly, not until EXU Calamity in any widespread sense, which does lead me to believe that most people did not come up with it as a reasonable idea on their own until characters started saying it, because it is so plainly in conflict with the themes of Campaigns 1 and 2 that to make this argument would be obvious projection. Do I think a nuanced view of the gods as flawed beings, rather than perfection, is warranted? Absolutely. Mortals, too, are flawed, and we don't kill them all for it. I think Vax's story makes them uncomfortable because it makes it clear divine favor is not, as Ludinus Da'leth tries to argue, the gods just bestowing and withholding their gifts arbitrarily, but rather that divine favor comes with a divine responsibility as well. Clerics and paladins do not study the way wizards do; but they must live lives in service, whereas a wizard can shut the book at the end of the day and do whatever. Clerics and paladins have powers that can be taken away; a wizard does not. That's the fundamental concept behind the Age of Arcanum - wizards trying to get around the fundamental rules of this world! Vax's paladin powers came at a price. His options are guided, but also limited, by the oath he took. He is far more fettered than a wizard, in the end, and I think that fucks with the narrative of the gods cruelly withholding their gifts from all but a select few, so they instead make their gifts into manipulative punishments…while still, contradictorily, arguing that characters such as Laudna or Ashton or Imogen were denied the mercy of the gods. Now, setting aside the obvious, that these characters have their backstories because Marisha and Taliesin and Laura decided they would because this is a story, and one in which someone had a perfect life would be boring and so the gods didn't intervene with Laudna because Marisha Ray wanted to play a Sun Tree corpse (see next section), it really is fascinating to see how people who hate the Raven Queen so neatly align with Ludinus. It's fine for sorcerers to have inborn powers, apparently, and Ludinus actually has himself tried to ape druidic magic; it's not about power, it's just about that power source. Honestly, they're not even above the gods as a power source - Ludinus used the crystal beneath Molaesmyr seemingly unaware if it were of the Archheart, and he's demonstrably using Vax, and everyone loves a resurrection from the gods, but heaven forbid you pay someone for the work you feel yourself entitled to. (Entitlement: this will also be a theme throughout the rant portion of this post.)

As a brief subsection to this: the idea that bad things happen to good people because the other side of that coin is free will is an ancient theological and philosophical discussion, and one we are obviously not going to solve here, though it is a little depressing I have had multiple rewarding conversations on this topic, thanks to an academically rigorous religious education, starting from the tender age of 9, and a lot of adults on Tumblr seemingly can't engage on the level of my third-grade classmates. I think, however, it tells a truth that fits in well with the wizard (and entitled fan) desire to control everything. People are terrified of random forces. Cancer, for example, is a matter of probability. There are things that can increase your chances of developing cancer, to be sure, but the simile I used when I was taught about radiation-induced cancers was that of lottery tickets: if you buy more, you have a better chance; but sometimes someone who bought a single ticket "wins" and someone who bought a ticket weekly never does. By believing the gods of Exandria are on trial for not intervening with every little hardship or for not taking Vax precisely as he intended, they reveal a profound terror of random chance and of the free will of people who are not them. Which is very funny when you consider we're watching Actual Play, where random chance is a deliberately induced element. I think the takeaway of all of this is "I think some of you guys are really mad this is a D&D game." But let's continue.

The third, and honestly most likely cause, is honestly sort of a continuation of the first but not centered around Vax so much as just a general, in my opinion deeply childish discomfort of any sort of tragedy or unhappiness in fiction. I've noticed this a lot lately, and I am not a cultural critic and don't have a high enough level view to pretend to be one, but as others have noted a lot of people seem affronted when whatever show they are currently watching does not meet their specific standards of "comfort media" or "hopepunk." It's a self-infantilization I don't care for, and it's certainly not limited to the CR fandom (see: any grown-ass adult passionately defending a choice to only watch children's cartoons and only read YA) or even fandom at all (see: the baffling popularity of the Mr. Rogers "look for the helpers" line which was intended for anxious young children, not for adults who can and should be the helpers). It really came into focus for me with CR when people referred to both EXU Calamity and to Candela Obscura's Circle of Needle and Thread as specifically "hopeless." They are, to me, deeply hopeful series. They are sad, and tragic, and many characters do not get a happy ending, but they are ultimately about how some people will endure, and will live on and find meaning after great loss. Calamity explicitly states that because of the actions of the heroes, while devastation will occur, total annihilation is mitigated. It's like the adage of how courage only means something in the face of fear; hope only means something in the face of darkness. Happy and fluffy tales are not hopeful; they are merely not things that require you to have hope. The root word of catharsis is that of cleansing and purgation and it originally related to physical excretion - cathartic stories are about getting those complicated and ugly emotions and fears out and feeling better for it by briefly feeling, perhaps, worse! Now, again, this has worsened with Vax's story with time. Shortly after Campaign 1, it was very common to see stories where Vex or Keyleth were utterly distraught, indefinitely, but those at least were engaging with grief, even if in a very shallow and unproductive way. But this has morphed into this idea that the fact that a work of fiction might make you even feel sadness makes it bad, and wrong, and hopeless, and the machinations of a cruel and heartless god. Which brings me back to the entitlement narrative: it's really as simple as "the story didn't give me what I wanted (whether that was a happy ending for Vax, or for Keyleth, or just a lack of sadness generally, or a narrative about the gods that validates my personal beliefs, or a way to justify Ludinus's actions), so it is bad." Which again is about being in control of the narrative, which again, in D&D, is simply not something anyone can claim. Why are these people here watching a D&D game? I don't know.

So that's really it: on a basic level, if you think the Raven Queen is unfair, you are profoundly ignorant of canon, so I'm already going to have to fact check anything you cite (if you cite at all), but there's a much deeper refusal to meet stories where they are and expand one's own comfort zone at play, and that means any analysis will never consider the possibility that your pre-existing beliefs were wrong (absolutely crucial in meta). You will always play it too safe and be uninspired and reactionary because the alternative is uncertainty and fear. I think a refusal to embrace tragedy in fiction is itself a profound tragedy; that is someone who is terrified to believe that life goes on.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #long post #candela tag #ngl i'm torn about not maintagging this; kind of want to but it does go somewhat far from the original topic

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herpartnerintime · 7 days ago

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Bae only ends romantic

The new game gives players the option to choose Platonic Bae or Romantic Bae. The new game also has Max and Chloe broken up so the existence of platonic bae (friendship break up) is the least of my worries but I still wanted to write a post about how I don't like the existence of Platonic Bae and find it upsetting. I dislike Platonic bae so much because if you play the game and read the journals and pay attention you'll discover Max has romantic feelings for Chloe regardless of your choices. Your choice isn't about 'romancing' Chloe or not, it's about making your Max brave enough to act on her feelings for Chloe by kissing her on the dare.

Max's diary if she doesn't kiss Chloe

I would have, but I didn't like being dared like it was some big deal. Maybe I am scared. Of what? I think I'm too young for marriage.

I've never been so glad to see Chloe in my life. The second I saw her blue hair and that beautiful pissed off face, I kind of regretted not kissing her when she double dared me. Maybe if she had double dog dared me...

Max also thinks about how Chloe sees Rachel in her future. Max is very insecure and doesn't see herself as equal to Rachel. But her entries make it very clear she has feelings for Chloe. You just didn't give her the confidence to act on them. That's your choice. That's your player control - making Max brave enough to come out of the closet literally about her feelings for Chloe or keep her in the closet about her feelings for Chloe by not kissing her. Chloe: I just don't think anybody is good enough for you... besides me. Chloe makes no secret of her feelings for Max throughout the game, and it always surprises me some fans miss the flirting that happens between the girls throughout the game. I think Max and Chloe both being girls may have something to do with how fans miss that regardless of player choice, romantic feelings exist between them.

Chloe: You look cute with your hair soaked in chemicals.

Max: Thanks, you would know...

Much of the fandom has misunderstood for years and believed this sapphic relationship was something they could choose to opt out of. "My Max didn't have feelings for Chloe," some declare proudly. Not understanding Max has feelings for Chloe and that is out of your control. Max is not a blank slate. Her journal, actions and her dialogue in the game prove she is her own person. You can for example accept the date with Warren but that doesn't mean "My Max wanted to romance Warren!" Because Max writes...

Oh wait... I did say I would go to the drive-in with him. Hope he doesn't make a lame move on me... (Not that he would, egomaniac.) Warren and I do have a lot in common, but he's like a supercool geek brother... Anyway, I definitely need a movie escape.

You don't control Max's feelings the way you might think you do. She's her own person. She is always her own person. Platonic Bae doesn't make sense because the act of saving Chloe is an act of love so powerful they would both know how the other felt about each other.

"Max... I'll always be with you." "Forever" Chloe and Max's voices were so full of love in this moment and it's obvious in this moment they each knew they loved each other as more than friends, whether you kissed her on the dare her or not those romantic feelings existed between them and it doesn't make sense they would stay platonic afterwards.

The idea these two girls with intense romantic feelings regardless of your choices would spend their always and forever together as just platonic besties is so silly. And how could they keep their promise of always and forever together anyway on the platonic path? They'd end up leaving each other at some point once they began dating other people. They didn't promise to be besties forever on that cliff, they promised each other forever and always to be together, side by side.

As for Bay? The heartbreak of sacrificing Chloe is if you didn't make your Max brave enough to act on her feelings she won't be brave enough to kiss her in the end, so Chloe dies never knowing Max felt the same way about her... So in her death they would remain as just friends, but Max would live with the regret of not kissing her forever.

I think my dislike of platonic bae is also just that... I don't like how this iconic sapphic pairing, the sapphic pairing that helped so many of us accept our sexualities is something players feel they can opt out of, that they can control, that they have the power to say "No My Max didn't feel that way about Chloe" because that's not true. Max's final journal regardless of choice is wondering if they are more than friends. If you save her, it's obvious the answer is more than friends. Your choice is about making Max brave enough to act on her feelings for Chloe. Your choice is keeping her in the closet or not about her feelings for Chloe. I sadly think platonic bae was added even though Bae only ends romantic for the benefit of players who have never understood Max is her own person.

#pricefield #chloe price #life is strange

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sacredjake · 2 years ago

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Animals

pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, oral (m. & f. receiving), fingering, spanking, slight daddy kink, teensy bit of spit play, cussing… nickleback. (let me know if i missed any)

a/n: alright, so this is the very first smut i've ever written, please bear with me. if you didn't know by the title, this was heavily inspired by the song Animals by Nickleback (its basically the song in fic format lol). a huge thank you and shout out to @dannyandthekiszkas because without them, i would not have been inspired to write this, and they also helped me edit (literally thank you so much). another thank you to @malany-gvf for giving feedback and advice.

———————————

Your palms were sweaty and shaking with excitement while you tried to work the latch on your window open quietly. The light in the hallway outside your room went off only a few minutes ago, signaling that your parents had just gone to bed, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You had received a text from Jake about twenty minutes prior that he was on his way to pick you up.

Jake wasn’t your boyfriend, but he also wasn’t just a friend. The two of you had found yourselves in a limbo between friendship and something else. Simply put, you were friends with benefits. And boy were the benefits good. So good that you couldn’t resist sneaking out of your parents house to hook up with the one guy they always hated you being around. Even though you were in your early twenties, your parents stuck with the same rule; if you live under their roof, you play by their rules.

To be fair, they didn’t have many rules, they knew you were an adult capable of making your own decisions. But the one rule they did have was that they didn’t want you hanging around Jake. Ever since high school they believed him to be a bad influence and nothing but trouble all because he convinced you to skip one class with him one time. You could admit they weren’t wrong, but that’s what made him so enticing.

It wasn’t until one drunken night out at a bar with your friend group that things came to a head with Jake. He offered to drive you home and the two of you wound up parked out by the train tracks. Under the coverage of a few trees you found yourself in compromising positions in his backseat.

Since then you couldn’t get enough of each other. Any time you were around one another it almost always led to sex. Eventually you would plan days to meet up so the two of you could go back to that place by the tracks and fuck in his backseat. But for the past few weeks that wasn’t an option. Jake had gotten his license suspended for the copious amounts of speeding and reckless driving tickets he had obtained, so when he texted you earlier in the day about getting his license back the conversation quickly turned into making plans for him to pick you up.

And that is what led to you sneaking out of your window in the night like you were a teenager. Eventually you were able to flip the latch open slow enough that no sound was made, as it was normally terribly squeaky, and carefully slide the glass pane up to climb out of the window. Throwing one leg after the other, you landed outside of your room in the bushes that lined the outside of your house, huffing out a few curses as the scratchy leaves caught your legs.

You edged along the wall to the opening near the corner of the house, spotting Jake’s black truck roll down your street, headlights off. He must’ve been watching for you by the way the passenger door opened, waiting for your arrival. As you made your way out of the bushes a wicked grin tore across your face at the thought of what was to come in a mere matter of seconds.

You ran towards his truck to not be seen, jumping in the open passenger seat and quickly shutting the door behind you. In an instant his hands were on you, gripping your waist, and the back of your neck to pull you into a heated kiss. His tongue entered your mouth, licking the roof of it in a swift motion and earning a moan from your lips. You squeezed his thigh with the hand that rested there, your other hand tangled in his long chestnut hair.

His mouth began trailing sloppy, open mouthed kisses from your mouth down to your collarbone, sucking on the hollow point there before following it with a quick nip of his teeth. As his tongue flattened out to soothe the skin, you trailed your hand up higher on his thigh until it came in contact with his clothed bulge, palming him lightly through his jeans. Jake huffed out a laugh at the contact of your hand on his growing erection.

“Easy there, we still gotta make it out to the tracks.” He lifted his face from your neck to look at you, a sly smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in close to your ear, breath falling hot and heavy against your skin.

“Wouldn’t wanna fuck you in front of your house where your parents and neighbors might see.”

His teeth sunk into your earlobe quickly before pulling away and sliding over into the driver’s seat. You followed his moments and slid over to sit in the middle seat next to him. He turned to you with a wicked grin and a wild glint in his eyes.

“Might wanna put that seatbelt on, baby.”

You had barely clicked the metal in place when Jake slammed on the gas causing the tires to spin and squeal against the black asphalt of your street. You hoped that neither your neighbors nor your parents would pay the sound any mind as you sped down the road.

“Jake! That was stupid! What if my parents came out? They know what your truck looks like!” You hit his chest lightly with the back of your left hand as you scolded him.

“Relax y/n. They’re not even gonna know you’re missing. Besides,” His voice dropped an octave as he continued in a husky voice, turning to look at you, “It’s been far too long since I’ve fucked that pretty pussy in my backseat.”

It was like his words had flipped a switch in your brain as he turned back to face the road. You turned your body into his side, running your hand up and down the inside of his thigh with feather light pressure.

Your left hand came up to brush his hair away from his neck, slowly placing a few open-mouthed kisses from the base of his neck up to the spot just below his ear. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles turning slightly white. In the sweetest voice you could muster you leaned in to let your lips ghost the shell of his ear as you spoke.

“Aw, you think my pussy is pretty?” You gave a small lick to the outside of his ear following it with a light blow of air. The pressure of your hand on Jake’s thigh increased, trailing back up to palm him again.

He let out a breathy groan as your hand began to work him over at a teasing pace before running the length of his thigh again. Your lips went back to his neck, slowly trailing back down towards his clavicle, nipping and sucking on the way.

“C’mon, don’t tease me like this.” Jake sighed, gripping the wheel tighter once more and resting his head back against the headrest exposing more of his neck to your hungry lips. You grinned against his warm skin before licking a slow stripe back up to his ear.

“Who said I was teasing you?” You spoke against his ear again as you slid your hand back up his crotch to the button on his jeans, popping it open. You pulled the zipper down slowly before reaching underneath the waistband of his boxers to wrap your hand around his base, giving him a light squeeze.

Jake’s foot pressed down on the gas at your action, the truck accelerating quickly before slowing back down. A grin danced onto your face at his reaction as you brought your hand up to your mouth. You licked from your palm up to your fingertips making sure to give Jake a good show.

Wrapping your hand around him again, your hand drew up and down his length, pumping him at a steady pace. “Careful Jakey, you don’t wanna get another ticket. You just got that license back.” You teased in his ear as your hand stroked him, base to tip, gripping him tighter on the way up. Once again sending the truck lurching forward.

You chuckled lightly at the power you held over him in this moment. Jake caught on to your enjoyment and took his foot off of the gas. The truck slowed down as he grinned wildly at you, maintaining an antagonizing slow speed.

“Let’s see how fast you wanna go, princess.” Your fun had quickly ended, realizing he fully intended to keep this same speed until you gave him what he wanted. While you would have loved to torture him more, your own need had only been growing. As your hand picked up speed and pressure, so did the truck, and after a minute or two, Jake was back to driving at full speed, your hand working him over.

It was taking everything in him to keep his hands on the wheel and steady as you stroked him faster and harder. A particular flick of your hand over his head sent the truck flying over the dividing line and onto the other side of the road. Jake jerked the wheel back to the right, guiding the vehicle into the correct lane with a hushed, “Fuck” under his breath. Deciding to test his limits even further, you leaned down hovering your mouth just above the tip before swirling your tongue softly around the head.

“Fuck, y/n.”

You felt the truck accelerate again, Jake sucking in a breath and gently pulling your hair out of your face to watch you. You let a trail of spit fall slowly from your mouth onto his dick before catching it with your tongue as it slid down his shaft. You licked back up to the tip to wrap your lips around him finally. Jake’s grip on your hair tightened as a groan tore through his chest at the lewd display you put on for him.

Your mouth sunk down on him, the tip lightly nudging the back of your throat before easing up and repeating the motion, taking in less of him than the first time. Bobbing up and down along his length, you could feel the arousal pooling between your legs, your aching need for relief increasing. You squeezed your thighs together tighter hoping to create some friction while continuing to pump your hand over what didn’t fit in your mouth. Jake’s frequent groans and curses flying out through his clenched teeth spurred you on more.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” A light moan slipped from your throat sending vibrations around his dick. You rubbed your thighs together again, making your arousal known and applied more pressure with your hand.

“You like that? Like when I talk dirty to you?” You did your best to nod, but Jake didn’t seem satisfied with the notion.

“C’mon angel, use your words.”

You could hear the smugness in his voice mocking you. You tried your best to answer ‘yes’ around his dick, but it came out as choked, and muffled vibrations.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?” His hand in your hair gripped tighter, tugging at the roots and you could practically hear the smirk on his face. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to speak with a full mouth?” He chastised, and you couldn’t stop the moan that flew from your chest at his rough and cocky voice.

The sensation of your mouth vibrating around him threatened to send him over the edge, muscles twitching causing him to swerve off road a little. His hand left your hair, pulling on the steering wheel to avoid wrecking in the ditch on the side of the road. You pulled off of him, a string of spit connecting from the head to your bottom lip as the truck jerked around violently.

“Shit. Fuck.” Jake took a deep breath regaining control of the vehicle once again and began accelerating faster, eager to reach your destination.

Your hand returned to its previous state, easily sliding up and down his length due to your spit coating him thoroughly. Looking around you recognized that you were quickly approaching the spot out by the tracks. Jake laid on the gas harder, sending the speedometer well over 80 miles an hour.

“Someone’s eager.” You quipped once again, causing his body to shudder at the added stimulation of your breath against his ear.

“Shut up.” He huffed with a laugh keeping his eyes locked on the road so as to not miss the turn that was coming up. He pulled off onto the road that led to the tracks, and found the hidden spot tucked away behind a the trees.

You began to move your body as he parked, positioning yourself at an angle that would allow your right leg to cross over his hips to straddle him when he stopped your movements.

His right hand grabbed your chin while his left pushed your leg back down. “Ah-ah, not tonight. Not after all the teasing and getting me so worked up that I almost wreck my truck.” His mouth crackled in a sly smile, flashing a portion of his teeth. “Get in the back.” You shivered involuntarily at his gruff demand, excitement burning in your chest and between your legs.

He pulled your face closer to his, thumb running the length of your bottom lip, his tongue following after in a slow, languid swipe. Before pulling away completely, he pulled your lip between his teeth, biting down just enough to border the line between pain and pleasure earning a gasp from your throat. He shot you a wink before speaking again. “Better get back there, baby. You’ve toyed with me enough tonight, I think it’s time you got yours.”

His left palm came down on the outside of your right thigh, a loud crack sounding in the small space. You let out another gasp as you winced slightly before a grin settled on your face, Jake grinning back at you. You shifted over to the passenger side of the truck to pull the center console down before climbing over it into the backseat. Just as you were making your way over the console, you felt Jake’s hand slap against your left cheek, igniting a fire in your core at the feeling of the sting his hand left behind.

He was right behind you climbing in the back seat and sitting in the middle. Once again you moved to straddle him as he settled, but Jake clearly had other plans, stopping your movements to hook his index fingers into the top of your shorts. You lifted your hips off the seat to allow him to pull them and your underwear down in one swipe. His right hand rested on your ankle while the left gripped your hip. Slowly he ran his fingers up your calf to your thigh where he gently spread your legs open to him. A teasing smirk played on his lips as his eyes landed on your dripping core.

“Tell me, Princess,” His index and middle fingers trailed lightly up your slit to your clit, gathering the wetness that had pooled there. “Do you taste as sweet as I remember?”

He held his fingers up between you, your slick glistening on them in the faded moonlight. “Open.” He instructed, tone firm. You obeyed and opened your mouth allowing his fingers to rest against your tongue. You closed your lips and hummed around his fingers, licking and sucking yourself off of him. He watched through half-lidded eyes in awe, lips parted and pulled into a light grin.

He slowly pulled his fingers from your closed lips, watching as they slid out. “That’s what I thought. Are you gonna be a good girl and lean over the console so I can have a taste?” You gave a silent nod in reply.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Y-yes.” You stuttered out with another nod. You got up to stand between his legs that were spread open across from the console.

“Yes what?”

His hands rubbed the outside of your bare thighs while you leaned over the black leather of the console laying your head on your crossed arms.

“Yes, daddy.” You cooed, earning a groan from Jake. His right hand came down on your ass once again, harder than the last making your walls flutter. Jake soothed the red mark on your ass by softly running his hand over the stinging flesh, his dick growing harder at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing.

Not being able to resist any longer, he leaned forward, tongue meeting your swollen lips in a quick lick before blowing lightly. Your eyes rolled back and your body shuddered at the sensation his cool breath provided to your heated core.

“Just as sweet as I remember.” He hummed into the open air.

His tongue dove back between your folds, teasing your entrance before pulling away once again. You heard a sound akin to spitting just before his wet fingers found purchase on your clit, drawing tight circles. You had barely registered the way his fingers worked your clit when his tongue ran through your parted slit. His tongue danced around your entrance teasingly before sliding in fully.

You could feel the imaginary band begin to tighten, head fuzzy and legs shaking as Jake continued to fuck you with his tongue, fingers rubbing against your clit. Your breath was hot and labored against the cool leather of the console underneath your upper half. Moans and curses flew from your mouth, quickly approaching your climax.

Jake withdrew his tongue from you to replace it with his middle and ring fingers, stretching you further. A gasp caught in your throat quickly cut off by a breathy, “Fuck Jake,” leaving your mouth. His fingers withdrew from you, earning another smack to your ass at the use of his name. He guided his tongue back up and down your dripping cunt.

“Try again, baby girl.” He mumbled against you, the added stimulation hurling you faster to your climax.

You opened your mouth to correct yourself, when you heard a noise come from outside the truck.

“What was that?” You whispered, reaching back to pull his hand away from you. Jake pulled away slightly to listen for what you heard, but it was silent.

“Must’ve been the wind. No one knows where we are.” He returned his attention back to your pussy waving off whatever you heard.

Seconds later you heard a loud thud. Your head whipped up on instinct, looking straight out the windshield. Your heart dropped in your stomach, a lump forming in your throat, eyes wide, body rigid. “OH MY GOD!” Your hands flew behind you to push Jake away before he could question what happened.

“That’s my dad outside the car! Oh my god.” You cried out in a hushed yell.

You hurriedly maneuvered your body back into a sitting position in the backseat while trying to stay hidden, hoping to god that your dad didn’t actually see you. He was parked about thirty feet away, walking towards Jake’s truck.

“Shit.” Jake climbed back over the console you had just been laying against. You tried your best to put your underwear and shorts back on in your panic-stricken state as Jake made to get the two of you out of there.

“Oh fuck me!”

“What?!”

“The keys! They’re not in the ignition!” Jake looked around for them, patting the seats and his pockets before spotting them laying on the floorboard of the driver’s side.

“Found ‘em. They must’ve wound up on the floor while we were switchin our positions.”

He stuck the keys in the ignition as your dad approached closer to the vehicle. The engine came to life and Jake threw the truck in reverse creating more distance between the two of you and your dad. You stayed ducked down in the back seat as he turned the truck around and headed back out on the main road.

“Holy fucking shit! I am so dead!” You climbed back over the console as Jake sped in a direction you didn’t recognize. You eyed him quizzically.

“Jake, where are we going?”

“Well I can’t take you back home. Obviously they knew you were missing. It would be suspicious if you showed up now.” He kept his eyes on the road, hand waving about as he talked. “I’ll just sneak you into my house for the night and you can say you stayed over at Candice’s house or something.”

“But they’ll recognize your truck when you drop me off?”

“Not if I take my sister’s car they won’t.” He threw a wink at you along with a knowing smirk speeding down the dark road.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments until Jake chuckled loudly to himself.

“What’s so funny?” You rolled your eyes, turning your body to face him, and pulling your legs up on the seat beside you to sit at an angle.

“Say your dad did see you,” He laughed lightly as he thought about what he was about to say,

“Think I could convince him it was your mouth I was kissing?”

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taglist: @malany-gvf @dannyandthekiszkas @gretasimp @popejosh4ever

add yourself to my taglist!

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka one shot #gvf fanfiction #greta van smut #Animals #jake kiszka x y/n #jake gvf smut

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originalartblog · 2 years ago

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Answering some asks about the dad Murase lives AU under the cut because you are forcing me to think about what I've created (❤)

@inkingkitsune

Murase had to know about N's less-than-savoury work. He was hired as a security guard (thanks to his brother) for a military facility for which he was told to kill any trespassers on sight. And his brother had been legally dead for a decade! But the main difference between the two brothers is that while N will still do horrors in the name of his job, Murase has spent his life after the war trying to help people to atone for what he had to do to survive. I think having to face concrete proof of what his brother did/does, especially without the immediate pressure of war and survival to "justify" his actions, to a kid he's grown somewhat attached to? That would be really hard on him.

Frankly I had never heard of that theory before, and after considering it, I can't agree with it. The government has expressed barely any interest in Chuuya, N seems to have acted on his own. The PM has so many ability users, and abilities are so unknown to the general public, with or without Chuuya, it was an important move to make, and there was no normal legal way of getting it.

As for Oda... I fear he's going to suffer the same fate. In another post I did wonder if Mori would try to be more careful with Dazai, since we know he was very careful to nurture Chuuya's loyalty and bond to the mafia. But after thinking about it, while Mori felt bitter after Dark Era (please read the light novel), he says he would still do it because the permit was so important to get. Chuuya going away here wasn't his fault, so I see no reason he wouldn't do things especially differently. Maybe he'd feel even more bitter though.

If Oda dies the same way... it's a fun question. Dazai would leave, Dazai would still refuse to work for the government, so his options are limited. I can't imagine Chuuya leaving at 16, join the ADA, and the mafia not knowing a thing about it? So what would Dazai do? Chuuya left and joined a group and now that group is his only option in Yokohama. If he wants to join them, he'll still have to wait two years for his records to be erased and hidden. And he knows Chuuya is gonna be there, and he knows him!! How frustrating and stressful is that wait going to be?

I'd like Chuuya to be gone when Dazai first joins, so Entrance Exam can still take place in a similar way. Maybe he accompanied Ranpo on his contract out of town? I do wonder if he'd confront Dazai publicly or in private... I'm still not sure how much he told the ADA about his own origins.

I've decided that Chuuya leaves after the Dragon Head Conflict (after loosing a second set of friends in the same year), because this time, he has someone waiting for him to offer him an out. And this is interesting from a skk point of view. At that point, Dazai has already met both Oda and Ango, and technically, Double Black has made a name of themselves. Chuuya would be leaving at the creation/peak of Double Black, barely giving it enough time to get their name. But all that we know (so far) of what they were up to as teenagers has happened already! And Dazai has met Oda and Ango, he has a support system now! They'll be fine. Well, as fine as their canon counterparts anyway.

This is also funny because their "history" is less than two years of absolute hell, then a 5/6-year gap, and suddenly they're coworkers again.

Honestly I don't know if Murase would have an opportunity to see it or its repercussions? I doubt he saw Chuuya directly after Verlaine (you know, mafia and all that), and I think Chuuya would be the one to seek him out after the DHC. I truly think you could count the amount of times Corruption was maybe used by Double Black in canon back then on one hand, and in this AU, it's literally only twice. Unless Asagiri planned for another big event and hasn't told us yet, I don't think Chuuya has had to use Corruption again in this AU until Lovecraft.

MAYBE someone would notify Chuuya's dad guardian that his son charge was badly injured, but with Yosano in the room, I doubt it would make it back to him. Same thing with Dead Apple. Murase lives in a blessed world where he knows Chuuya's powerful, but doesn't know the extent of it.

Have a lil' doodle for making it all the way down here! (it's Chuuya's first week or something)

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theelusivecamilleon · 10 days ago

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Thinking about it, HOLY FUCK, Qrow's Semblance is wildly underutilized.

Bad Luck as a passive power can work, and it can work really well, but RWBY really decided to stick him with the most boring option of "depressed because the bad luck affects everything". It's so weird to me, since I've seen other characters with either a bad passive power or passive bad luck that still end up making their way around a situation or even using it to their advantage somehow. Qrow does neither of those.

Depending on when he even unlocked his Semblance, you'd think the years of experience with the thing existing would end up getting him to be more used to how it flows and how it works. It's supposed to affect him and everyone around him, and yet it sounds more like his semblance was unlocked maybe a year in and he's got no idea what to do with himself because of it.

On another note, the whole "bad luck" thing feels barely visible, if not visible at all. He says it's happening, he says he knows his semblance is always doing things, but it feels like there's no way to really discern if it's doing anything that wasn't already going to happen. The same thing would later be a little problem with Clover's semblance, but this ain't about him. To remedy it, why not have some kind of visual cue or subtle sound before something happens? Or better yet, have the "bad luck" be over the top or incredibly obvious in its spontaneity. Have stuff randomly break in his hands, he slips and falls for a bullshitly-placed reason, trees falling out of the blue, literally anything that's over-the-top enough to make it obvious that it's not normal per his Semblance. Maybe have him carrying multiple flasks, or knee pads, or anything because of how much random bullshit bad luck could hit him at any time.

Also, maybe put his drunken nature in relation to the bad luck. Maybe he could fight better in a drunken state so he could easily fight without having to think too hard about how to circumvent the random occurrence of events per his Semblance. The "Qrow tries not to be alcoholic" could be a later story for how he doesn't need to rely on the alcohol for him to work well with his semblance.

Dealings with luck-based magic, powers, or phenomena can be a lot more fun if you get creative in how the characters are still able to thrive with it in effect. It's just about how it gets used to their advantage. Milo Murphy is the first character that comes to mind, but regardless, it's fully possible for the luck to be fought against, weaponized, and lived with. Not to say you can't have a character be depressed about this development, but it feels like it's too late in the game for Qrow to be like this.

In short, Qrow's semblance isn't boring in itself, but it's boring and kinda disappointing that the only thing that'd been made of his semblance's existence is a depression.

.....wait, there was a Chibi episode that had Qrow's bad luck Semblance being obvious af.

The non-canon spinoff Chibi series has the most obvious occurrence of Qrow's semblance actually working outside of word of mouth mentioning that it even exists.

Fuck.

#rwby #rwde #extended thought #qrow branwen #luck can be a fun power to play with #why not make Qrow used to this shit in the fun way #he could've been great

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kandadze · 6 days ago

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Ep 30 loose thoughts

Whoo boy, I'm scared.

Wow, ZYC's words really hit LL *hard*. Still not sure if it's going to be enough for him to stop being a malice, quitting cold turkey rarely actually works.

ZYZ waiting for him... I immediately got distracted by the fact that there seems to be a weiqi board between them?! How about you just play a round instead of killing each other?

Yet another scene we've already seen in the MV... ZYZ gifting LL the Truth Eye. (I've watched it so many times I'm literally trying to predict the ending by piecing together the scenes we weren't shown in the eps so far 😅)

Oh dear, it's like whatever they try to say, it comes out wrong. Their worldviews are so different, they're bound to misunderstand each other no matter how much they might still love each other.

It breaks my heart that ZYZ is still hoping for a draw. This demon loves and loves and loves in spite of everything. 😭

Oh but I do kinda get how LL's tentative hope got crushed here. He so desperately wants to live and mean something to ZYZ, he will not see leaving Bai Jiu's body as an atonement - he'll see ZYZ's requesting it, without any alternative, as yet another proof that ZYZ doesn't care about what's going to happen to *him*.

Isn't ZYZ supposed to be the strongest demon or something? Don't tell me he's poisoned as well!

HUH??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE LOST ALL HIS DEMONIC POWER??? How? When???

Explain yourselves ffs!

Oh no PSJ just watched her brother die in front of her for the third time... 😭

Oof the whole sequence hurt like a bitch, Lin Ziye hit it out of the ballpark with his acting yet again, and I very much love how this was a team effort instead of the two great demons showdown... But ngl I feel like Bai Yan was completely useless. You're a fucking tree spirit as old as the gods! Why aren't you helping???

*Now* you're whipping out the goddamn root??? I think you could've presented it as an option for him *while* asking him to vacate Bai Jiu's body, he *was* open to suggestions! (I love the dramatic fight scenes as much as the next guy, but now in the light of this new info it seems to me that *this* particular fight - AND THE RESULTING DEATHS - was potentially completely unnecessary??? Once this is all over can you please take some time to work on your communication skills, people!) But also fuck this guy, he'd said he was not going to hurt Ying Lei! Dishonor on him and his goddamn cows!

ZYZ, you big ol' softie!!! (But also, this changes my understanding of the scene at the creation stone somewhat... let's see if they expand on this in any way.)

NO, YING LEIIIIII!!!! 😭 I *wish* ZYC had healing powers omg this was so rude!!! (Also not his last words being his encouragement to Bai Jiu!!! Who's not even conscious at this point!!! 😭😭😭)

"This time we draw." You mofos!!!

This still doesn't explain anything about *why* all his demonic power is gone. Did he use it all up to restore the sword? Is it because he was the only source of power that the creation stone could draw from this time, as opposed to when he rebuilt the tower - with LL?

They're back to breaking my heart with their bond and the - rather one-sided at this point - bickering. Scold him, ZYC, you'll both feel better!

Bai Jiu, this poor kid, I can't even begin to imagine what he's going through right now. Even with ZYC there, the weight on him must be enormous. (I hope someone goes to PSJ as well...) Aaaand they made me cry again. Ying Lei understood humans so well! Food can totally be a love language. And he used his powers to make sure the easily perishable snack he made for Bai Jiu wouldn't spoil!!! 😭😭😭

I'm glad they showed us WX doing her best to comfort PSJ. I love that they showed us that PSJ does have the very human wish to be special in some way, to feel needed and accepted, and how having that can translate into strength to protect and make sacrifices in return. I hope she goes back to kicking ass real soon.

After "this"??? Whatever the heck do you mean, ZYC? Are you planning on offing yourself to heal WX? (I know that ZYZ would have totally done it already, save for the tiny issue of having no demonic power at the moment...) Yeah, this totally sounds as if he was saying his goodbyes ffs

ZYZ is a vision in this white outfit and with the light pouring onto him from above. Also, ZYC reaching out to him like *that* yet again. It was almost enough to distract me from the fact that they seem to be withholding info about the poison from each other, without realizing that they both already know. What are you two planning, you self-sacrificial idiots???

Whew okay, this was a ride and a half. Onto ep 31 since apparently I have access to it, and I'd rather break my heart in one go instead of prolonging the agony. This way I can bawl my eyes out for the rest of the weekend and still appear functional at work on Monday.

#fangs of fortune #fof ep 30 #fof liveblogging

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be-my-ally · 11 months ago

Text

Snowballs and Kisses

Hello darlings!! Merry Christmas! I hope everyone celebrating has a wonderful day, and everyone for whom it is a usual monday has a better than usual start to the week!!

I have been MIA the last few weeks on here, but never fear I have been busy behind the scenes and hopefully more things and fics will be finished very soon!! I cannot wait for my little new year break, and *finally* catching up on all the stuff I've missed!! In the meantime as a ittle teeny tiny Christmas gift please enjoy this timeskip for my Splashing Around ‘verse to Christmas Eve 1960 and my shameless OC self insert of what I’d like to gift Elvis.

a/n not totally accurate weather references: it didn’t actually snow in memphis in the latter half of 1959 but, this is fanfiction after all and it *was* very cold november 18th 1959. (I also cut a whole 4k of angst that will come out at some point as a separate chapter, Anita getting a poodle, and the colonel dressed as santa because honestly i just wanted to write and read fluff, but here's a warning that there may end up being more festive fics posted…a little late).

warnings: 18+, smut lite; gentle fingering and references to cumming in pants. UNEDITED

Graceland - December 1960

The excitement of having Elvis back at home for the festive season was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that it was his first Christmas at home without his mother. He’d not really tried to celebrate properly in Germany; sure they’d done the best they could, and he raved about the gift of a fully dressed tree for weeks, but it hadn’t been the same as it would have been at home.

This year though, Elvis seemed determined to restore the festive spirit. Perhaps even further than just restoration - an attempt to make it as bright and jolly as possible in response to both his mother’s passing, and missing the last two. He’d bragged to anyone who would listen about how excited he was to give out presents, his plans for even more lights than ever before; signs and lawn decorations.

While Louise was excited, it had left her in an almost constant state of anxiety, Christmas wasn’t just about the gift-giving… but it was a large enough part of it that it’s where her mind immediately went. From the moment he suggested they hang at Graceland that first year, from the first time they’d all pored over the letter to Frances, and his promises to “have a ball next Christmas”, giggling and whispering about what fun they were going to have the following year. From all of those times Louise had been preoccupied with what to get him and whether her secret plan was good enough for Elvis of all people.

That first year he had reiterated to them all and was absolutely adamant no-one needed to gift him anything and wouldn’t hear of anything being sent over to him. But his frequent calls and mentions of the upcoming holiday belied his actual feelings and besides, Louise wanted him to feel special. Wanted him to know they’d been thinking of him as much as he must have missed being home. It wasn’t until the 27th of November and the slightest of snowfalls had occurred, tiny little snowflakes, delicately falling down when the temperature had dropped just enough for the rain to crystallise when a flash of inspiration hit her. She couldn’t send it, so instead she’d waited patiently, adding to her bundle throughout the months. Now that it was almost time to give it though she was second-guessing that two year decision. Was it too juvenile? It’s just so tricky to buy for the man who literally has anything he could ever wish for. As the festive period hurtles on she resigns herself to having to hunt for a back-up gift…maybe a nice sweater. Maybe that will do. Or maybe it’s best to have options.

Elvis’ melancholia about the holiday doesn’t seem to stretch into Christmas Eve, and he encourages them with all the enthusiasm he’s ever had. The party starts from mid-afternoon and stretches long into the evening and night with all the makings of an excellent time from the music to the food until eventually they all find themselves around the extravagant tree to exchange presents. It’s a little chaotic, so many people about and frequently someone’s having to dive from room to room to fetch people or hidden gifts. Louise finds it almost dizzying when she finally manages to take a seat on the long sofa, catching her breath from being sent to find someone. She was already finding herself struggling to think whenever she glanced over at Elvis - he looked outrageously good in a white shirt, black trousers - well, he looked outrageously good all the time at the moment - but there was something about the feeling in the air of the day that made it all the harder to act natural around him. Elvis had been quiet for a moment, but now he was sat on his armchair across the room, looking for all the world like a king on a throne ready to bestow his generosity on the peasants. Except, that’s not the feeling in the room at all; it’s jolly and wonderful, picture perfect - all of them slightly tipsy on champagne and vodka cocktails and finding the evening all the more entertaining for it. He announces he wants to give the presents that he’s bought everyone before he opens his own, and Louise dips her eyes when he hands her a little bow-tied box. No-one else’s comes with a ribbon and she strokes it, feeling a glow emanating from her stomach and chest as she imagines his nimble fingers tying it on, totally ignoring the fact that she knows someone else probably wrapped it for him. Still, she tugs it off to hide from the others - not wanting to be teased about how such a little gesture has made her blush so strongly - and tucks it into her palm, fully intending on slipping it into her shoe or around her wrist in a moment, knowing she’ll keep it forever - wear it in her hair like a declaration.

When she looks back up everyone has a similar box and she opens it quickly in case they’re all the same - she doesn’t want to ruin her surprise. There, nestled in a little velvet box is a ring, a huge, gaudy red stone in the centre, almost too big for her finger. Louise is transfixed, staring at it, barely a thought in her head as she tries to wrap her head around the way it sparkles in the light. Despite the size of the gem, the band was more than a little small when she tries to slip it on, and she quietly puts it back into the box, not wanting to draw attention to her apparently larger than expected fingers. She glances around, suddenly coming out of her shocked obliviousness. Her face falling when she realises that everyone around her is unboxing similarly precious jewellery. She’s resigning herself to having to sneak it off to get it resized and hating herself a little for it, wondering if there are exercises she could do or maybe a special diet to shrink her fingers to size, when she suddenly realises all the other girls are turning each-other around, kissing Elvis on the cheek in thanks, or asking him to clasp their new necklaces. Louise looks back down at her box and the others. What does a ring mean? It’s been gifted with such casualness that it can’t possibly mean anything can it? When she looks back up Elvis is staring right at her, and she makes eye contact with him - her wide eyes meeting his laughing ones. He winks, and turns back to Red. She tries her best to distract herself from it, ooh and aahing over everyone else’s and keeping quiet about the little box clutched tight in her hand.

Half hour later Elvis is admiring his own little haul, when he catches her eye again,

“You forget about me Lou?” Louise cringes at being called out so publicly,

“Of course not!” She looks around the room, at the large group gathered there, “No, uh, why don’t you, well I’ve gotten you something else….It’s a sweater. It’s not great really, but I… your real gift I’ve made you, but,” She swallows building her courage, unsure why she’s so nervous suddenly when she’d been so excited for so long; the whole idea just seemed juvenile and silly now. “… you’ve gotta follow me for it.” He stares into her eyes for a second, before nodding and standing up, gesturing at her as if to say ‘lead the way’.

He grins at the boys when they walk out, making a salacious movement as if to suggest her gift may not be all too family-friendly to accompanying guffaws of laughter. She ignores it, even as her tummy churns; should she be offering that? Is that what he wants these days?

“Don’t laugh.” She asks nervously as they walk into the little pantry. Elvis looks bemused to find himself there, leaning against the wall of the tiny space

“I won’t” Louise nods, shutting the door, only to hear Elvis giggle, “You tryin’ to get me alone, doll?”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“One hell of a christmas present! to be locked in a cupboard with a pretty little gal.”

She rolls her eyes, wiggling past him to get to the freezer,

“Close your eyes.” He obediently does so, and she reaches into an old box of ice-cream to pull out a Tupperware, “Hold your hands out.” And she puts it in his cupped fingers, “Ok…open.” He blinks down at the Tupperware.

“Um. Well, thanks, I’m uh, sure this will be useful.” Louise rolls her eyes, impatiently tugging off the lid herself, “Oh.” Elvis goes silent, staring at the three perfect, teeny snowballs balanced in the tub. Each resting upon a little piece of paper with Louise’s very best cursive handwriting spelling out the date; December 12th 1958, 18th November 1959, and 20th December 1960.

The silence stretches as Elvis stares at the box, and Louise starts to ramble nervously, “I was starting to panic this year, but at least I’d thought to pick some up back in January — it snowed so heavy on the 5th. I think it was, or maybe the 15th? I’ll have to check my diary… so I mean it isn’t entirely accurate that it’s all from the 20th - but I mean, I had to have something and well I know how much you loved it when, when your mother… and I wanted you to know I’ve been thinkin’ of you non-stop while you were away. So, here, the first snow from the garden from every year you missed.” Elvis is still staring at the box, one finger poking each little round ball.

“This really snow from two years ago?”

“Uh-huh… I mean I don’t know what you’re gonna do with it now, but it really is… been in that box in the freezer this whole time…I hid it from everyone. Every time someone said they wanted some ice cream I panicked.”

“Lou.”

“‘M sorry this is really stupid, god - what are you gonna do with some snowballs, I should’ve gone in with the other girls, got you something really good… I just - well, I thought you’d like it and I know you misse-”

“Baby, I don’t, I don’t know what to say. I… I didn’t think anyone would think of me like this, like mama did, ever again. I - well, thank you, Lou darling, this is, well, its the best damn gift I’ve ever gotten.” He grabs her arm, tugging her to him - pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, the force of it surprising her. “I’m gonna show everyone - c’mon - quick before they melt.” He runs out of the kitchen, leaving Louise to follow meekly behind.

He shows them off like he’s a new father, proudly holding them up in the box, delicately picking one of them up and sighing at it, holding it up at the light for everyone to marvel at. It’s a little ridiculous in some ways - everyone in the room had been gifted something hugely lavish, and yet the thing everyone was talking and gossiping at was a snowball.

Hours later the party finally winds down enough that Louise realises she’s one of the last few stragglers of a night so late it’s turned into Christmas morning. How she’d ended up in this position she’ll never know, and she questions it herself as she stands quietly in the doorway, watching Elvis fumble on the piano. Just his fiddling is beautiful, little snippets of remembered carols, before he hammers onto the keys, singing along to Santa Claus is Back in Town. Louise can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes her and he looks up at her, smiling almost teasingly, perfect glint in his eye as he pauses for a second to run a hand through his hair before he continues for another verse and a half. He stops almost abruptly, standing up to stretch before turning to her. She’s trying to find the words to explain how beautiful it was, how perfect he sounds - how she can feel it throughout her whole being, but before she can express those sentiments he’s in front of her and grasping her hand.

“C’mon,” He tugs her over to the armchair he’d been sat in earlier in the evening, “Over here hon, that’s it - you’re the last.” Elvis throws himself onto the chair, holding onto her, pulling her stumbling body against his. “You’re the last of my girls left…” He sighs melodramatically and Louise giggles uncontrollably back at him. She’d had an illicit two glasses and a half of champagne earlier in the evening; Elvis had playfully wagged his finger at her as she’d accepted it from Red although she’d seen him have more than a few drinks himself. She can feel the bubbles still settling into her tummy and head, fuzzing her thoughts a little and making her giggly and affectionate. Still, she wasn’t so tipsy she couldn’t call out his overdramatic behaviour.

“They’ve just gone home for the night. They’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure.” She shakes her head. He ignores her, crying out,

“I’m all alone!” He tugs her by her elbow, catching her as she stumbles into his lap, pulling her onto him, flattening her wide skirt. It wasn’t really the fashion anymore but while she’d been momentarily hesitant about her holiday dress she wasn’t self-conscious, and she liked how it made her shape look. Some might suggest the bow and petticoats were juvenile, but it made her feel more adult than the tighter styles that were starting to become popular with her peers, more herself than playing dress-up.

She snuggles under his arm, head pillowed on his chest, cheeks pressed against the little buttons of his shirt. He pretends to choke at her hair brushing his nose, using his free hand to flatten it under his chin and she grins, shivering against him as his breath tickles her skin. They stay cuddled for a few moments, sinking into the kind of happy exhaustion that seems to only occur on holidays. It feels different than before, although Elvis is more similarly carefree than she’d seen him in a long time. He’d grown up a lot over the years she hadn’t seen him, or so it felt, and his adultness didn’t match the image of him playing and fooling around that she had in her head. It’s an awful feeling, she thinks, that even with him right there, surrounding her, she still longs for a little more of the playfulness of the past.

Suddenly though Elvis shifts, interrupting her thoughts and murmuring against the top of her head,

“Y’hear that?” Louise stops breathing, and all she can hear is the solid thump-thump of his heart against her ear, he waits a second but she can’t work out what he’s referring to and doesn’t respond, he gasps “There it is again! Do you hear it?”

Louise shakes her head against him, frowning a little, “No?” She tries really hard to listen out, but other than the faintest hint of the music from the boys in the other room she can’t hear a thing. “The music?”

“No! No, listen.” He puts his finger to his lips, shushing her,

“I really don’t hear anything Elvis.” He wraps his arm around her waist a little tighter, tugging her up so she was sat more upright on his knee, her face close to his. He whispers into her ear,

“I think I hear hooves…” Louise frowns,

“Hooves!?” God, it would be just her luck that he’d gone and bought her a horse or something, and she’d have to act grateful even though she was terrified of them.

“Mmhmm, that’s right.” His hand rises up to brush across her back gently, fingertips dancing around her side, “Hooves. Hooves and bells.” He pauses for dramatic effect, jabbing his finger into her side in a tickling poke. His voice dips lower, as his arm squeezes around her, “Someone must have been a good girl this year.”

Louise grins when she realises what he’s implying and couldn’t bring herself not to play along.

“…You think it’s Santa Claus?!”

“Hmm, definitely…who else would it be, on the roof with hooves and bells on Christmas eve?” She giggles, both in response to his kind-natured teasing and his fingers poking her side with an exaggerated motion.

“Oh, I wonder what he’ll leave in my stocking…” Elvis hums against her hair,

“Mmm. Coal.”

“Nooo!” She giggles back to him, “You just said I’ve been a good girl!”

“You’ve been a very good little girl.” His voice has hit that low pitch that immediately sends a jolt down her spine, right into the pit of her stomach and she swallows, trying to keep up with the joke.

“Well, I’m, uh, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is.”

“Mmhmm….” His hand brushes up her leg, “Bet ya I’ll like what’s in your stockings more…”

“Elvis!” She shrieks, playfully batting his hand away, he pulls it off of her, smoothing down her skirt, and resting it onto her lap for a moment. Louise feels her breath catching as he presses a kiss to the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way and shifting her on his thigh so that she’s facing him. It’s almost a struggle for her to meet his eyes, she felt so desperate for his attention - but there was nowhere else to look that made her feel any less heated. His hair, god even his eyebrows were Elvis-enough to make her squirm. It’s only a second of him kissing her jaw, before she’s gasping for him, and before she knows what she’s doing she’s grabbing his hand and shoving it back on her thigh.

She’d kept herself for him, even as it felt that she’d been playing before, doing it for someone who would never notice or care - ostensibly in general, but really if she was truthful - for him. She’d touched herself, hadn’t been able to resist the temptation, especially after his deep voice came through the phone - but the other boys, the boys in school, the ones with blue collar jobs and careers, had all lost their appeal whenever she imagined kissing them, and her imagination interposed the image and feeling of him, his slippery body in the pool, the feel of him in front of her on the bike. He was thinner now, even still, than he was before, puppy fat replaced with lean muscles. His face shape changed just the tiniest bit, perhaps unnoticeable to some, but so very obvious to her, cheekbones and chin more angular than before. But his lips feel the same as they did before he left, and since his return home - she’d expected they’d have lost their eager nature, but still she can feel the hint of desperation as he presses them against her jaw.

She gasps, rocking against him as he roves down her neck - a place no one else has ever touched, tiny points of pressure feeling like a heat was expanding across her neck and chest, matching the clench of her thighs. His hand gently strokes up her stockings before he hitches her up, capturing his mouth with hers and shoving her underlayers up to her waist in the abrupt movement. Louise moves with him, desperate to stay in contact with his lips and she moans in upset when he starts to pull away.

“C’mon baby,” He whispers, “C’mon, Lou-Lou let me - let me say thank you,” He’s barely audible as he speaks against her lips between pressing bruising kisses onto them, “I just - wanna, wanna make you feel good, Lou doll.” She gasps out her agreement, eyes falling closed and her head falling into his shoulder as his fingers find their way to rub against the silk of her underwear. He shifts her again, balancing her so she can rock against his thigh and his hand, whilst also rubbing her leg against his covered crotch. Louise is almost surprised at the heat of him against her thigh, but her curiosity has no chance to be satisfied when he hooks a finger under the leg band of her panties, totally distracting her from anything but the feel of him under her and attempting to stay somewhat upright. His finger feels softer than she’d imagined, and yet, in comparison to her own the pads feel foreign, rougher and surer than hers ever were sliding into the wetness they find there.

“God, you’re so soft baby, so fucking soft in here, perfect for me, you been waiting on me, honey?”

“Uh-huh, waited, waited so long for you Elvis - didn’t, I didn’t want anyone but you.” He groans in response, his fingers moving faster. Until he’s forced to stop, tangled in the fabric and he growls in frustration. Louise feels it go straight down her body, and her thighs clench, trapping his hand even more. He pauses for barely a second to manhandle her up, just enough to roughly tug her panties down enough that it’s now entirely her bare skin rubbing against his hand and clothed thigh, the fibres of his trousers almost giving her a friction burn with her rapid movements. He continues as he was a second earlier, but now with far easier access he’s able to swipe his fingers across her clit, taking her to the edge almost immediately. She has no idea if this was something he’s always done well, or if this is a trick he’d picked up while he was away, but whatever the reason she was grateful. She doesn’t even consider how they were still, essentially, in public, too distracted by his slender fingers to be concerned about her now partial nudity. The only noise to break up their combined breathy moans is the layers of of taffeta rustling between them, as she continues to rock against his thigh, but this all changes when he delves his thumb into her wetness, bringing it back up to stroke circles on her clit, gently but repeatedly running it over her.

“Oh, Elvis?” She cries out,

“What baby? You’re so - I can feel you’re close,” His own breathing is getting heavier, and he holds her steady with his other hand grasping her thigh while his thumb continues to stroke her,

“I don’t - I don’t…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, and before she manages to turn it into a complete sentence she’s shaking on him as she rides out her orgasm. He sees her through it, continuing to stroke her with the same pressure before rapidly shoving his hand down his own pants, roughly rubbing himself off to quick completion. She watches him closely, unable to do anything but stare as his own eyes slide closed, head falling back against the couch and mouth opening as he gasps out a high-pitched moan. It was about enough to make her shudder again against his thigh, the look on his face, his mussed hair, open collar and the noises of sheer pleasure. Louise finds herself bouncing on his chest as he breathes rapidly from the effort, and he holds her tight for a few moments while they both regain use of their limbs. Louise feels almost a little shell-shocked and she only really comes to her senses when Elvis shifts, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace and patting her thigh,

“Gosh that was, I, um, thank you El,” He grins at her, clearly pleased with his success, and he pats her leg again,

“Thank you, honey, for just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me earlier baby, it was just - I’m gonna treasure them snowballs forever, you’ll see.” She grins back at him before an unstoppable yawn takes over her face, “C’mon lil girl, time for bed.” She gulps, thinking about all the people on the house - worrying what will happen next,

“D’you…where am I gonna sleep?” Elvis frowns, little furrowed line marring his previously relaxed face,

“With me?”

“Oh,” Louise swallows, “Um, I think my parents will be expecting me - you know, Christmas morning’s all about -“

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll drop you home at the crack of dawn,” He winks, “-gotta make sure the house is all in order in any case anyway.” Elvis pauses, “Or, or you could invite your mama and pops over. They’d be more than welcome…nothing my mama liked more than a full house - especially at Christmas.” He’s looking at her with that earnest little boy expression again and it takes everything in her not to just suggest she should stay forever, it was so absurd that he’d want her to stay, instead of the other way around.

“Well…maybe I could stay. And, well, I mean, I could come over in the evening? If you swear you’ll make sure I get home in time -“ He’s quick to interject,

“Cross my heart darling,” She hums at him, and he motions the crossing of his heart across his chest, solemnly holding eye contact, “I swear.”

“Ok then, I’d love to stay.”

Somehow, and (despite his promises) to Louise’s surprise, she’s dutifully shaken awake and dropped off home, albeit not by Elvis himself, only a few very short hours later. Coming up the driveway of her childhood home it feels almost inconceivable that she should have spent the day and night how she has, and she wonders for a brief moment if she hadn’t knocked her head or something and just hallucinated the whole affair. She’s so in her thoughts that she doesn’t yet notice, as she traipses past the lounge and kitchen where she can hear her mother singing to quickly change, a new set of boxes under the Christmas tree. Elvis’ script on the gift tags declaring “To Louise, a very good girl, from Santa.”

taglist: (it's been so long that I've lost the list for this verse - lmk if you want to be added, or taken off!)

@lialocklear @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @shakerattlescroll

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #be-my-ally #splashing around #elvis x louise

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