#quick but I needed to gif how glorious that was

[bunny-1111]

Whoopsie - Theo Nott x clumsy!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Fluff + slight angst

Description: You can't help your clumsiness, but when you land with a bruise on your face, you're reminded that your boyfriend Theo really hates to see you hurt.

...

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridors of the Slytherin dungeons, each step clumsy and uneven. You weren’t exactly the most graceful of creatures, but today had reached new heights of disaster. It was one of those days when the universe seemed to be playing tricks on you—making every doorframe, stair step, and corridor seem like an obstacle course designed specifically for you to fail.

And fail, you did.

It had started innocently enough. You had forgotten your Charms textbook in the dormitory, and in your haste to retrieve it before your next class. The last thing you needed was detention from McGonagall for being late or forgetting your book, and you were sprinting down the corridor. Too fast, too distracted, and—

BAM.

Your face met the hard, unyielding brass of the doorknob. Pain radiated through your skull, and you stumbled back, clutching your nose. "Ow, ow, ow," you hissed under your breath, blinking back the sudden tears that sprang to your eyes.

By the time you had made it to the mirror in the girls’ bathroom, a glorious bruise was already blossoming across your cheekbone and the area around your eye, swelling quickly and turning an alarming shade of purple. You groaned. Great. How were you going to explain this to anyone? Even worse, how the hell are you going to explain this to Theo?

You decided to skip class altogether and carefully make your way to Madam Pomfrey.

You managed to slip into the common room unnoticed at first, pulling your hood up in a futile attempt to hide the evidence of your clumsiness. But, of course, it didn’t take long for someone to notice. It was Theo, he always noticed everything about you, no matter how much you tried to downplay it.

“Baby, why weren’t you in class, Enzo ended up taking the seat I saved for you and Merlin he chewed my ear off about Quidditch being fixed last Saturday,” he rambled on.

Don’t reply, don’t look up, you thought to yourself. It was impossible; this was happening right now.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, voice low and alarmed as he crossed the room in quick strides, his hand gently lifting your chin. You felt the warmth of his fingertips against your skin, but his expression was anything but warm. His brow furrowed in concern, soft brown eyes locking on the bruise that marred your face.

"I’m fine!" you blurted, though the words came out far too high-pitched to be convincing. You tried to pull away, but Theo wasn’t having it. His grip on your chin tightened ever so slightly, his thumb brushing against the edge of the bruise with a gentleness that made your chest tighten.

“Who hurt you?” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but the intensity in his tone made your stomach flip. His eyes searched yours, dark and stormy. Theo wasn’t the type to raise his voice in anger. No, his was the kind of quiet fury that built up slowly, seeping into the air like a cold, creeping fog.

"I did," you confessed, trying to laugh it off, but the tension in the room was suffocating. You could feel his anger brewing, and you knew what was coming next.

“I’m fucking serious, don’t lie to me!” Theo snapped, taking a step back as if putting some distance between the two of you would help him calm down. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he began pacing, his jaw tight. “There’s no way you did that to yourself.”

“I did!” you repeated, trying to sound more convincing this time. Rubbing your hand quickly against your bruise. Not a good idea, as you instinctively winced at the touch. “I ran into a door. A doorknob, to be exact. It’s not that serious, Theo,” you try convincing.

Theo froze mid-step, staring at you like you had just said something utterly ridiculous. Which, to be fair, you probably had.

“A doorknob?” he repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing as if he was waiting for you to take it back, like it was some kind of joke. But when you just nodded, Theo let out a long, frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. He shook his head as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re telling me… you smashed your face into a doorknob?”

“Yes,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment. God, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“It's embarrassing already, alright? Leave me alone,” you huff.

Theo stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe you. Eventually, he sighed and dragged a hand down his face, turning away abruptly. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath before storming off, leaving you standing there with a gnawing pit in your stomach.

Theo didn’t go far. He was in the common room, pacing like a caged animal, still visibly agitated. His eyes flickered over the other Slytherins lounging nearby, most of whom had noticed his outburst but said nothing. That didn’t last long.

“Oi, what’s got you in a twist, Nott?” Blaise called from the couch, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. Beside him, Draco looked equally intrigued, lounging back with his arms crossed.

Theo glared at them but didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to look at you again, his jaw still set in that hard, unyielding way. The others followed his gaze, and it wasn’t long before the topic of conversation turned toward your rapidly bruising face.

“Wha- what the hell happened to her eye?” Blaise was the first to ask, looking genuinely confused as he gestured toward you.

“She said she ran into a door,” Theo growled, clearly still not convinced.

Draco, who had been staring at you with a mixture of concern and amusement, furrowed his brows. “Wait, what happened to who’s ey-?”

Before he could finish his question, Mattheo, who had just entered the common room, cut in with a dramatic, “Holy shit! What happened to your eye?” His tone was a mix of shock and humour, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of your injury.

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you now. Heat rushed to your face as you tried to explain yourself once again. “I fell,” you say quickly, raising your hands in a placating gesture, as if that would make everyone drop it and move on.

But of course, they didn’t.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You fell? Into what, a troll?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I ran into a doorknob, okay? I wasn’t paying attention, and it just… happened.”

Blaise let out a low whistle, his smirk widening. “You really need to work on your coordination, love.”

You rolled your eyes, though the action hurt more than you expected, causing you to wince. Theo, noticing the movement, shot Blaise a glare that could have frozen over the entire Black Lake. “It’s not funny, Zabini.”

“Hey, I’m just saying…” Blaise shrugged, holding up his hands in mock defence. “You know, we could get you a helmet or something, just to be safe.”

"We should wrap you in bubble wrap", Pansy joins in laughing

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m fine, really.”

But the conversation was far from over. Despite your protests, the teasing continued—though most of it was good-natured. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Theo’s eyes on you, watching every movement, every wince. He hadn’t said much since his initial outburst, but you could feel his worry like a tangible weight in the air.

Eventually, the others got bored of the topic, and the common room returned to its usual low buzz of chatter. You took a deep breath, thankful for the reprieve, but when you glanced toward Theo, you saw that he was still tense, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he watched you.

“I’m going for a smoke,” he stated as he stormed out of the common room. Well, we’ve done it, stressed him to the point of smoking. You thought he’ll be back soon, sinking deeper into the couch.

Later that night, when everyone had dispersed to their dorms, Theo found you sitting by the fire, absentmindedly poking at the flames with a poker. He sat down beside you without a word, the warmth of his presence instantly comforting. For a while, neither of you spoke, the crackling of the fire filling the silence between you.

Finally, Theo broke the quiet, his voice low and careful. “You really need to be more careful.”

You looked at him, your heart giving a small, traitorous flutter at the concern etched into his features. “I know.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “I hate seeing you hurt.”

There was something in his voice that made your chest tighten. You smiled softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “It’s not that serious, Theo. It was just a stupid accident.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the fire. Then, after what felt like forever, he turned to look at you, his expression softening. “Promise me you’ll be more careful next time.”

You chuckled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I promise.”

Theo wrapped an arm around you, pulling you

closer. “Good. Because I don’t think I could handle seeing you like that again, seriously.”

You gently kiss him, as you make your way towards his dorm, he wraps an arm around your shoulder, everything seeming good again.

That is until you tumble over your own feet, almost meeting the floor, but this time, Theo was there, tightening his grip on you, catching you before disaster could strike for the second time today.

You laugh as he stares at you, eyes widening. He cannot believe you actually fall over your own feet. He softens with a deep sigh.

“What am I going to do with you, my clumsy girl?” he laughs himself, kissing your head.

Author note: um like 4 theo fics posted in the last 24 hours.... getting that grind LMFAO

[sleepy-fiction]

Fists In The Backline.

iron fist x fem!reader SMUT

Lin Lie fucking the shit out of the enemy healer. "You're not going back to the mission area. Ever."

tgs: exhibitionism, voyeurism, watersports, minor breeding kink, ironfist physically overpowers reader, dubcon, wrestling, bdsm, unbalanced power dynamics, prey/hunter, compassionate hard dom lin, fem reader, bunny nickname, no romance pure fucking but a lot of sweetness from them

an: i loved writing this, I'm even considering a pt 2 w them as undercover fckbuddies. Also, time works diff here than playing a marvels match. BARELY proofread

4.9K WORDS

"Fuuhh fuh-Uck! Lin... Lin, we gotta goo back," you can't even manage a full sentence underneath the barrage of thrusts. Lin Lie has you bent over a broken pillar in the Royal Palace, his thick cock berating your hole as you grunt and dig your nails into the ridges.

You were 20 meters away from the mission area, your radar pinging your teammates' dangerously low health. With the leader board showing 68% to 43% of mission area captured, the latter being your team's.

It was quick how Iron Fist noticed how your heals carried your team hard. You were all in the lead for the first half of the battle, dogging them with an amazing 30% to 1%, and for hellish minutes, not a single member of his team could land a step on the mission area.

That was until he devised his plan, rounding up all his team to attack you, and you only with him hounding them to trust him. It was an even bloodier battle, but he eventually got you, but he got crushed by your team's Panther right as he did so.

This wasn't the last you'd see him. As right as you spawned, you saw the terrifying sight of an enemy IronFist, standing directly in the backlines, ogling you in spawn. At first, you were prepared for another battle, but a passionate zeal fell upon IronFist, his powers spilling out a green mist, and he incapacitated you within seconds.

His strong punch flung you into the cracked pillar behind you, the grand marble caving in under your weight. You spat out, "Augh," as gravity carried you to the floor, your ribcage and arm slung over the broken piece.

Dammit.

He was going to kill you and send you back to spawn after you tried your best escape.

You heard the familiar crunch of heavy shoes on shattered marble, and in a last ditch effort, you threw out your final weak attack. It did nothing. In fact, Iron Fist simply side stepped it. Wild feral anger crossed your eyes as you flipped to face him, legs too weak to stand.

You growled with a boom, "You back-lining asshole! You think this is a fair fucking fight? Huh? Think this is righteous?" You stated up at him, as his large muscular body casted a shadow over you.

He was tall and intimidating, his broad shoulders steered the sun away, and his proud biceps flexed in his crossed arms. The way his mask hugged at his eyes mysteriously, the way he stood strong with confidence- wisdom; something you haven't quite cracked yet. You were a new hero on the scene. You weren't accepted by all yet.

You had too much to prove and too much to lose in this fight. Not him, though. He was one of the many glorious Iron Fists. If it were any other circumstance, you would have given up, talked nice, and at least admire such an inspiring hero. But not here, not now.

Not when he was playing so fucking dirty, and ripping your precious moment from your claws.

Your eyes gleamed with spite.

Skkrt!

Your radio buzzed. Starlord's voice interrupted your stare down, "Where the hell are you, kid? We need those heals now!"

Your heart sunk to your core.

You shouted, "Well?" Grabbing up chunks of broken marble rocks and throwing it meekly at Iron Fist. They seemed to ricochet off his stature, but finally, finally, he moved.

Iron Fist sunk down a bit, grabbed your shoulder and kept you in place on the ground. "Hey, what the fuck," you spat. You thrashed around, but he sunk on one knee between your legs and raised his other mighty hand on your shoulder, clamping you down in place. You cried, but his face shot close to you.

You gasped in the closeness, you could see the beads of sweat that plagued his face and neck, how his shiney spikey hair absorbed the sunlight and reflected dark colors of husky brown. How his strong jawline complimented the structure of his masked eyes. How the tip of his nose was just as pink as his plump lips. You gulped.

He finally spoke.

"You're not going to back Mission Area. Ever," he hushed. The command sent shivers down you.

"W-Why not," you still growled at him.

"You're too good. You're the only thing keeping your uncoordinated team alive. The only one reminding those guys to stay on checkpoint. And I wanna win... So," he grins, it's devilish the way it makes you stir in fear. He's so confident, so precise, it steals your breath from under you.

An established hero recognized you.

Sskt-- "I need backup dammit! Where are my god damn heals," Winter Soldier booms.

"Hey hey! Take your time! Or don't. But listen could'ya uh... At least make it quick! No worries though," Spiderman buzzes in.

You glanced down at your Radar, the enemy team has completely caught up. They managed to tie in the 12 minutes you've been away from the battlefield.

You whimper, "Fuuck- Oh no." Despair strikes your face, but it's drowned out by the humored laugh Lin Lie releases.

You whip at him, "You can't keep me here forever! I'll notify Black Panther on my Rad--"

Within seconds, your radar is snatched, "Hey--", and crushed in-between thick hands. Your coms buzzes before blinking off. Lin, all the while, is smiling dangerously hard.

"Hehe! No can do!"

You launch forward in a rage, "You stupid fucking asshole," grabbing chunks of his uniform and sending him to the floor. You straddle his body, desperately trying to rip and claw at his face. His laugh turns into chuckles as he blocks you, eventually grabbing your wrists, stuffing a leg under your chest, and flipping you over him and onto the floor.

You crash land on your back hard, but before you could even gather out a groan, he's onto of you. Ironfist drops his weight on your hips, catching your arms above your head in a quick biff.

"You've got such fire! Such passion--"

"Die! Die, you backlining freak!"

"--You're truly one of a kind. You'll be a great hero when you're ready. No. You already are," he smiled too fondly.

You gasped, your chest heaving as your anger suddenly dies down.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can make this hard," He leans down, his free hand against the floor beside your head. He took up all your view. Despite it all, your eyes flickered from his lips to his masked face.

You whimpered. Awe as terror mixing a dangerous concoction on your face.

This was too intimate.

Even Lin hesitated, simply staring at your face.

There was no doubt in his mind that the newest hero on the scene was gorgeous. Especially to him. You were a true strategist with an empathic heart and a pretty face. Cute eyes with tulips for lips. You trained hard, deep into the early morning when he began his training, and he always caught you staying longer than you should just to admire the way he fought.

Most heros become recognized and lose their precision. Not you, you were sharpening the arrowhead until the oil burned.

He admired you so damn much he even switched his usual spot in the after-match lunch room just so he could have a clear view of you over through Rocket's short head. Even the way you ate was cute. You were always so starry-eyed and excited when conversing with your mates, Storm and Squirrel Girl.

He'd be a liar to say he wasn't taking advantage of it all right now.

"Pretty thing," he mutters. It's loud enough for you to hear. It's sadistic, the way he chuckles a little before continuing, "Got no where to run." He wants to see those glossy eyes brim with anger, just one more time.

Where's your zealous spirit?

You can feel your face warm. You know you shouldn't, but somewhere you got lost in his presence, lost gazing between that mysterious mask and those deliciously soft lips. Those plump, full lips of his. Just as pink as the tip of his nose. You whimper ever too submissively, "What're you 'gonna do to me..." You can't even mask your desire, your tone pleading and desperate. The sort of pleading, desperate tone that drowns in sensuality, as your voice is reduced to a breathy, stammery mess.

He disrespected you but...

You didn't get angry. Hell, that's far from anger.

You're panting a little too heavy, you're staring dead at his lips, you're drowning in his presence, melting like butter, yet as alert as a rabbit in the snares of a fox.

He's losing his fucking mind.

You are totally into him. You like him.

He's overwhelmed by the sheer intensity, the shockwave of seduction that blows in from those rabbit breaths.

He should do the right thing.

But god, he wants to take advantage of this.

What other time would he ever get you this turned on, and be in position to be the lucky one who gets to please you?

But should he do it here? Out in the open, where prying eyes could disrespect you? Holding you hostage, overpowering you physically?

Why did all these factors make it impossibly hotter?

Was it worth risking it all for a once-in-a-lifetime erotic escapade?

And with those sweet eyes shifting from pupil to pupil, you really did look like a tied up rabbit.

Fuck it.

Let's fuck like rabbits.

He raises back, his hand testing the waters, releasing your wrists, and clamping a strong hand on your neck. You call out and whimper, yet never look away, eagerly awaiting, your heart drumming in your chest. His grip is tight but not suffocating. His hands are so damn large, and your neck almost feels like nothing to him. And fuck you're so turned on. You shut your eyes, limp your head back, and ease tense shoulders, flashing him the underside of your chin.

He feels himself harden in his pants, his eyes widening in disbelief and jaw falling slack.

You moaned so sexily and fell limply in his arms like a fainting princess.

Yeah no.

That's one gigantic green light. He pulled you off the ground by your neck, raising your body up to meet his, you gasp out, meekly throwing your hands on his forearms, your grip almost nonexistent.

"I'm going to realign your guts," he smiles wistfully, a hearty and amused laugh leaving him.

There you found yourself, your pants bunched around your knees, your elbows on the broken pillar, and your drippingly wet ass perked up in doggy. The rest of your clothes are disheveled and barely put on right, as Lin's egerously largest hands were, just minutes prior, groping you everywhere on your soft body. It didn't take long for either of you to get deathly aroused. In fact, half the foreplay was skipped, per your request, just so you could feel him.

"Hurry-hurry-hurry," you ramble out, shaking your ass with a delicious whine. He catches it immediately with his bandaged hand, his fingers itching with the addiction of feeling your skin. "I can't take it anymore Iron Fist," you say.

He winces hard. You're so shameless, so bold. It's driving him insane. He shakes, desperate to keep control of himself, as he slowly slides his giant cockhead against your lips. You moan, arching viciously. His thickness peck and slip through your folds, collecting your slick before finally dipping in.

His head is fat, his whole cock itself was 8 inches long. Bulky and burly over skinny. It's fatter towards the center, perfectly straight and just as pink as his lips. Your hole chokes up on his head alone, stretching to meet his plump demands.

Bzztk-- "Iron Fist. Keep it up! Whatever it is, it's working," Hela's voice breaks through the slience. You moan at the lewdity of it all, your toes curling.

Bzzt-- IronFist holds his radar, buzzing it on, "Mmf- Thanks! The fight hasn't been easy! We've been battling it out nonestop," he suddenly plunges in, his cock now halfway in.

You abruptly groan out, "G-Gaa--"

"--Oh no! You're not getting away! Get over here," but he covers it up smoothly.

Bzzt-- "Good work, Lin. Keep it up," Cloak's voice slithers out.

Lin snickers, "You know I will," and the radio shuts off.

You finally moan out all that you couldn't before. "It's soo b-big Iron Fist," you mewl, dropping your chin to rest against the pillar.

"M'hehe," he pushes in more, "Just call me Lin, okay?" His voice is gentle and sweet, both of his strong hands securely gripping your hips. You can feel his blazing warmth not only from his piping dick but from his palms. Combined, it all brings aroused tingles to your brain. "It's Lin Lie, hero."

"My name is--" He slams into you, bottoming out.

You groan out, but he shuts you up quick by leaning forward, reaching, and stuffing your mouth with two of his fingers. His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb resting by the corner of your eye. "Hey, you're still new okay? You gotta protect your identity. Don't give it up for sex," he scolds.

"You'thh thdid itt," you manage out.

"Yeah, well, I've been doing this for a while," he says. He rubs circles with his palm on your juicy ass, admiring every part of how his cock feels in your velvety walls. How you pulse around him and invite him in so nicely. He's thrusting slow into you by now, only taking himself out an inch before sinking back in. He looks from your ass to your face as he does so. "Is that good," he asks, eyes lidding behind the mask.

He sighs out deeply the way a man would after cigarettes when he's finally able to start doing some sort of moving. His grip tight, his restraint dwindling. It's not his fault your tight walls suck him back as he pulls out, not his fault your cervix likes to kiss his tip so nicely. Fuck, all he wants to do now is fuck you like a dog and play with your clit while doing it. All he wants is to make you lose yourself again and get the pleasure you were begging for.

You cry, "Mmyes, morr' Lin. I canh'take morr' than this." Your voice vibrates around his fingers. His hands have you leaned up, your fingertips being the only thing keeping you connected with the pillar. And you find how befitting the blue sky is with an ass full of cock.

"Ffu-- Good," he moans. Lin starts to let loose, starting paced. His dick bangs into your stomach, the fulling sensation of him smothering your hot insides, releasing sloppy, loud squelches into the air.

Your senses are immediately overidden, as you bite down onto his fingers, and move back against his cock. "Ooh'ff! Ooh," you moan blissfully. His lips clench in concentration, as you feel him dig and dig, until finally- your hand slams against the pillar with a loud, "Ff-Yeessh'!"

He laughs sweetly, "Oooh yeah? That's your sweet-spot? Huh, beauty?" He groans breathlessly, precusely digging and fucking his tip into that spot.

His large dick is fucking against your bladder, your toes squeeze ice tight, your moans echoing across the palace walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, your back drowing in sweat already, annoyed by your superclothing that restrain you. "Gotth'a pee," you mutter against his fingers, his thick digits familiarizing itself with your drool.

"Go'n'head 'n release. Ffuck... nobody's gonna see you anymore today," he groans. Your walls spasmed in fear and anticipation at his devilish sugarcoated words. Lin's hand finally slips from your mouth, and you fall back onto your elbows. His other hand, join him in holding your hips. He lifts your hips up more, your knees now hovering an inch off the ground. Your weight meant absolutely nothing to him.

"Keep an eye on the score, would you," he says as he tosses his radar infront of you. You sloppily turn it over, shock filling your soul.

You first cry out in despair, "Fuck it's at sixty-sev-- Oooh! Yess," but the sound quickly morphs into pure bliss. Your head drops down dumbly as Lin's pace turns into madness. No longer did the sweet, consideriate, paced thrusts exist, as now he fucked you expeditiously. His stout cock was rapid and precise, its unrelenting speed just as inescapable as his zealous fists.

Your hand reach out into the air around you, gripping at absolutely nothing to anchor you to this world and not the galaxy of stars behind your eyelids. His grunts and groans got louder, the stuttering sounds ever so deep and blissful. He fucked you so hard you could feel your elbows slip forward on the pillar, until you were no longer holding onto it, but your stomach rested on it, and your hands planted into the dirt.

Your toes curled, as your greedy pussy clenched down on him. The sloppy wet sounds combined with the intense clapping of skin to skin competed against your wailing cries. Your bladder gave out within seconds of it all, squinting hard as your bladder was pressed by both sides. On the inside, it was battered by Lin's passionate head, but on the outside, it was smothered by the broken pillar. Your legs twitched and jerked, hands deep in the dirt.

You cried, "L-Lin! Oooh fuck! Mmff' let's go baack." The only thing else to look at was the scoreboard, watching helplessly as the enemy team reached a terrifying 78 percent, ten more gained in the three minutes from last time you checked. They were kicking your team's ass, hard.

"Nno can do bunny-- Haa... I've 'gotta- wwin-uh," he moans out. He suddenly stops, forcedly adjusting himself, as he lays a foot down on the pillar, his body leaning down towards you, as he forces your face into the dirt; large hand pressing the back of your head down. In this new position, your knees slipped up to catch yourself, now finding themselves on the pillar, your pants now barely held on by your feet, and Lin stood in the calamity, a perfectly smooth transition, as his left hand stayed put on your hips.

He asks, "You 'kay?" But barely waits as he instantly begins to pound you into the dirt. By now, all of his thrusts are sloppy, his grunts loud into the air, curses flying off his lips like a mantra, "Ffuck-fuck-fuck-- mm."

He's gonna cum, he's gonna cum!

He's still going full steam ahead inside of you. You were overstimulated beyond compare, your poor sweet clit was swollen and enlarged, pulsating hard for friction. The slightest touch of it would send you flying to heaven and back. No way we're you gonna be left high and wet without a mind-fucking orgasm.

"Mmm- My Clit," you screeched like a parrot, your moans filled with more light headed gasps than sounds.

Lin released your head, leaning all the way up, and using his hand how to reach between you and spin your clit. The muscle was pre-drenched in the downpour of your lust. And in your wake, "I'm cumming!--", you ripped chunks from the earth, squirting out one final time.

"Aaa-haah, me too," Lin could barely laugh, as he was overtaken by mindless groans as he slammed rough into you for the final time, shooting his first ribbon deep inside you. He pulled out, shooting his second, before roughly slamming balls-deep in for the third. His moans were feral and mindless, only caring about dumping his hot load into your cervix.

Shit. That totally wasn't good but you'd take care of--

Bbzzt-- "Another Amazing Victory!"

Your eyes popped open to the radar.

The scoreboard: 100% to 49%

Your knees slipped back onto the dirt as he pulled out, your stomach back resting on the pillar as you stared at the results with angered eyes.

"See, what'd I tell ya, bunny," his cock rudely finds its way back inside, he continues, "You carried your team." He leans down on you, his chest on your back as he hooks an arm under yours. It slots between your breasts and grabs your neck, pulling you completely off the ground as he stands up with you, his hard dick still inside. Your legs twitch, and a sultry mewl leaves you, your piss drenched pants slipping to the ground.

You can hear Lin groan deep into your ear, "Sorry, bunny, just one more round. I promise it'll be just one more... I need this, please. Trust me," and it sends delicious tingles down your spine.

It's only then, from this sight of him holding you, that you can see your surroundings and really focus in on the fact that you were on royal grounds, fucking where any unlucky bastard could see.

And oddly, your eyes kept glancing to a crow perched up on a pillar in the distance.

Fuck.

Eeh.

Well.

"Okaayy," you mewl braindead-ly. "Mmh, make it rough Lin pleasee," you whine, clenching tight around him in anticipation.

"Your wish is my command, bunny," he whispers fiendishly so.

read part 2?

[orcasoul]

The Lesser of Two Evils

Chapter summery: Condemned to a life of forced servitude by your own people, every monotonous day is a never ending cycle of despair and humiliation. But one day a mysterious Roman is brought to your village...

Warnings: Swearing, smut (eventual), threats of rape, sexual harassment, violence, gore, detailed injuries, angst, enemies(ish) to lovers, protective Marcus Acacius, age gap, OFC/reader

A/N: While daydreaming of this tale I envisioned it happening in Germania (thanks to the first Gladiator movie) so Alia/reader is Germanic. She's mid 30's, has long hair and is smaller than Marcus Acacius. I have done a bit of research of the ancient Germans as well as Ancient Romans but there will, no doubt be a lot of historical inaccuracies but hey, it's fan fiction baby, so anything goes! I hope you all enjoy...

Word count: 5,173

Chapter 1 The General

The chaos is unrelenting, spreading like the roots of a weed, destroying everything it touches. The deafening clanging of steel against steel, the anguished screams of men in their last moments, the earth turning red; it's brutal and harrowing and raw, but it's necessary. It's for the glory of Rome. That truth alone is enough to drive Marcus Acacius in his rage fuelled onslaught. Body after body falls as his sword meets enemy flesh, every man put down means one less adversary for Rome.

With adrenaline and purpose flowing through him, he advances beside his men, slowly but surely, the goal seemingly just within reach. Impossible to tell if the sludgy ground beneath his feet is saturated with rain or blood. Impossible to tell the difference between the roars and wails of his brothers in arms and that of his foes. The carnage intensifies with every heaving breath, the sickening stench of iron assaulting his senses as he mercilessly ends yet another life, the heat from his victims blood steaming against the frigid air as it drips from his Gladius (sword).

A quick glance at his surroundings reveals a much more devastating encounter than Marcus had anticipated. The Gutones are a savage and ignorant people but they are cleary also very formidable. It will make the conquest all the more glorious for Rome. So, Marcus thunders on, meeting combatant after combatant in a gruelling test of strength and endurance. After dispatching his latest victim - some foolish man-child who believed he could take on a seasoned general, of all people - he turns to check over his shoulder just as a very large brute swings at his head with an axe. Marcus ducks at the last second, grinning at the now enraged man as he prepares for another swing.

Marcus counters the blow, holding his sword horizontally above his head. He throws the axe to the side, the momentum taking his attacker with it, causing him to stumble. Marcus, seizing the opportunity granted to him, spins to face the man, sword poised to deliver the final blow. In a split second Marcus is on his knees, a hot stabbing pain shooting across the back of his right thigh. Despite the throbbing and spasming in his leg, Marcus tries to stand but it's futile; all strength in his leg is gone. Looking up he's met with a sadistic and victorious smile from his assailant as he raises the axe above his head, ready to strike.

This is it! This is how it ends. In these last precious seconds of his life, Marcus becomes overwhelmed with a myriad of emotions and thoughts; what will become of his men? Will whomever succeeds him as general be worthy and commited to Rome? Will he be remembered and honoured for his steadfast dedication to expanding the empire? Marcus refuses to close his eyes for this moment; he will look his death defiantly in his cold blue eyes, refusing to show even an ounce of the crippling fear he feels right now.

Just as the object of his death swings towards him, a deep voice booms from behind him. "Alive! We need him alive!" The man before him stops mid swing, looking furiously in the voices' direction. However, before Marcus can look back the big brute flips his axe. The last thing Marcus sees is the thick, blunt handle, thrust towards his face before the world turns black.

Cold, dark, wet. That's what Marcus Acacius opens his eyes to. This is not Elysium. There's no warm sunshine, no cooling west wind, no lush green meadows with brooks of water and wine. In place of tranquillity and bliss there is only pain and suffering. Did he not lead a virtuous life? Why does Elysium not embrace him? He fights against the pull of his eyelids, rolling onto his back as his foggy mind struggles to make sense of his surroundings. It's the sudden and intense surge of pain in his leg that startles him back into reality. He's very much alive.

Wide eyed and groaning, Marcus reaches down to feel the afflicted area, fingers finding a damp and crudely applied strip of cloth. His instincts abruptly return, willing him to rise, to fight and survive. But instinct and will alone cannot overcome physicality. His vision darkens in the subdued torchlight as he tries - and fails - to push himself up, limbs aching and head throbbing furiously. He falls, landing face down on the muddy ground. Rolling over, he wipes the cold mud from his eyes and mouth, anger and frustration quickly building. His blurry vision clears only to reveal what looks like thick and rough wooden bars.

A cage! He's locked up like some worthless dog. The shame of it! Death would have been the favourable option, not this. Never this! "Well, look who's finally awake," a mocking voice jeered as the cage door swung open. Marcus gathered what remained of his strength and pushed himself up sit up, back resting against the cage bars and chest heaving from exertion. A man about his build and height wearing animal hyde and simple trousers strode over to Marcus, looking down on him like he was nothing more than horse shit. Marcus returned the sentiment by fixing him with a glare of pure revulsion.

"Who do you think you are staring at, slave!" The man literally spat at Marcus' feet. "Get in here!" he yelled impatiently while keeping eye contact with Marcus, no doubt to try and intimidate him. Marcus sat in confusion for a moment until movement behind the man caught his attention. You were quite small in stature compared to the lout barking orders at you, but that could also be due to the fact you had your head lowered and shoulders tucked into yourself, an unmistakable defensive posture. "Clean him up," his big meaty hand shoved you forward, nearly causing you to spill the fresh water from the jug you're carrying.

You managed to find your footing just before you almost fell into the prisoner. You dare not look at his face; the face of a monster. Never have you had to face a Roman before. You've heard countless stories about the "Red Demons" who consume the world, leaving death and destruction in their wake, and now you stand before one. You're not sure what to expect. Despite your best effort to remain collected, your hands begin to shake in fear. "Make sure he lives if you know what's good for you. He's no use to us dead."

Dread licks up your spine at the threat. With a lingering sneer thrown at the general, the man began to walk away, but stopped by the gate. "Careful around around that savage." You could hear the smirk in his mock warning. "Men like that always take what they like from women. It would be a shame if he defiled you, being the animal that he is." The sudden slam of the gate made you jump, the sound of the lock clicking into place causing your stomach to churn. You're trapped! Fear has you rooted to the spot.

Unsure of your next move you force yourself to at least look upon his face. His scowl send a cold shiver to every part of your being, his eyes slowly raking over your whole body and his lip curling as if the mere sight of you disgusts him. No change there then; it's how you've been viewed your whole life. His eyes, burning with hatred, settle on yours and you gulp. He says nothing; but he doesn't need to. The intensity of his glare says it all. Taking a steadying breath, you will yourself to sound more confident than you feel. "I, uh... need to clean your wound."

He remains motionless, staring you down. One uncertain step towards him is all it takes for his anger to burst forth. "Dont. Touch. Me!" he seeths as he awkwardly shuffles away from you, fighting against the ropes that bind his hands and feet. It's evident he's trying to mask the pain caused by moving. "Please...I won't hurt you." You suddenly feel ridiculous for stating the bleeding obvious. Of course you won't hurt him; couldn't if you tried. You can tell just by looking at him this man could snap you like a twig if he so desired, restraints or not. "No, leave me. I'd rather die than be a captive.'' "You don't understand," you begin to plead, stepping a bit closer. "If you die they'll blame me. They'll do terrible thi-" "I don't fucking care!" he spat, silencing you.

You know there's no point arguing; a cornered animal will always lash out. Anxiety pools in your gut. You just know you'll get hell for this. "Wigmar?" you call while you wait by the door. "Wigmar!" you shout this time. A minute later the man - Wigmar - returns looking annoyed. "What?!" he barks. "Uh... I can't... I mean... he won't let me come near," you say with a little shrug. "Please, it's not my fault." Wigmar looks at the prisoner then at you. "Useless cunt," he sneers and storms off. "Wait! You can't leave me here!" You slam your fist against the bars. You're thundering heartbeat fills your ears. Is he really going to leave me in here with him?! The thought makes you feel sick.

You open your mouth to call for Wigmar again but stop when you hear multiple footsteps approaching. He's returned with two more men. He unlocks the door and shoulders you out of the way, making straight for the general with the other two men. Grunts and snarls fill the air as the general is thrown face down and restrained. "Get on with it!" Wigmar shouts at you. For a moment you just stare, shocked at the brutal struggle taking place. "Now!" Wigmar's booming voice snaps you from your shock. Dropping to your knees beside the men, you quickly get to work, cleaning the stab wound, applying a mixture of honey, grease and herbs and wrapping a clean, dry dressing over the area. All the while the prisoner fought and thrashed on the ground.

As soon as you'd finished you packed all your supplies away, emptying the red tinted water from the jug and leapt to your feet, eager to distance yourself, even in this tiny space. The men, however, laughed the whole time, jeering and taunting the furious Roman. "Fucking animal," one of the men spat at the general as he now lay on his back, catching his breath. Visibly trembling with rage, Marcus forced himself to sit up, his eyes boring into every one of these bastards who had dared to put their hands on him. The disgraceful indignity these barbarians had just bestowed upon him only intensified the fury he was trying to contain. He has to keep a level head right now.

His focus shifted to you and he was taken aback when Wigmar viciously grabbed a fist full of your hair, yanking your head back so forcefully you couldn't do anything but yelp. Gods above. Is this how they treat their own people? "Next time handle this yourself," a red haired man stood in front of you and growled in your face. Marcus watched as you attempted to beg for release, only to have your words literally slapped from your mouth, the sound of a palm striking flesh louder than should have been possible. You continue to cry out in terror as you are bent over and dragged roughly by your hair from the cage. The gate slammed shut, locked once again, the encroaching night making it difficult for Marcus to see your retreating forms; all that remained were your desperate cries, piercing the otherwise still evening.

You couldn't get home quick enough. Not that you'd really considered this your "home" - just some dug out structure with a poorly maintained roof, once used for storage. Now said storage has a better residence than you. All that furnishes this place is a bed with a few fur blankets, a small table with a rickety stool and a few shelves that holds your clothes and very few personal items you have. The last of your tears had dried, leaving a stickyness to your cheeks, but your scalp is still burning.

This time you had lost a small clump of hair. Still, it could have been worse. With fatigue beginning to creep up on you, you take a seat on the low stool, pour some water from your waterskin into a bowl and begin cleaning the rags you had used on the prisoner when the door to your hut opened and a chill swept over you - but not from the night air. "Alia..." came a sickly sweet voice that instantly made your muscles size all over. Wincing internally you stand and turn to face your unwelcome guest. The tall intimidating figure filling your doorway slowly saunters over to where you stand. Just before he reaches you, you turn your back to him defiantly and sit down to continue with your task.

"What do you want, Bardulf?" you sigh, irritably. Bardulf grips your shouders, pulling you to your feet and spinning you to face him. "I want you to look at me when I'm talking to you!" he snarled, his stale breath invading your nostrils. You release a long breath and look up to meet his eyes. "That's better," Bardulf smirks. "Heard you were causing trouble tonight." "No," you shake your head. "The Roman... he wouldn't allow me to approach. I had to get help. What else was I supposed to do?"

Bardulf, still holding you in his iron grip looked you over and snickered, "Why didn't you just use your... influence on him and finally be of some use to us." Rolling your eyes, you shake yourself free of his hands and step backwards almost tripping over your stool. "You and I both know that's a load of horse shit. If I were a seeress, don't you think I would have saved myself from this hellhole before now?" "Careful..." Bardulf stood in your personal space now looking down at you with hate twisting his features. "One would think you're ungrateful of our hospitality." Adrenaline pumps through your body, making your hands shake. You clench your fists, trying to hide your fear. You want to scream at him, tell him exactly what you think of this so called "hospitality."

If being enslaved, beaten, humiliated and hated by your own people is "hospitality" then you have it in abundance. "Maybe..." Bardulf slowly ran his hands down your arms, his slimy touch like poison on your skin, "you'd prefer a different kind of hospitality." Disgusted, you open your mouth to protest but Bardluf's hands slip behind you, one on your back and one grabbing your arse. He slams you roughly against his body. You freeze in horror when you feel something hard press into your lower stomach. "Y... you wouldn't dare," you stammer, while trying to push him away. "Your father would have your balls!"

Bardulf grips your face with one hand so tightly, you hear your jaw click. His thin, pockmarked face is now an inch from yours and for a moment you fear he might actually make good on his threat. "My father won't be around much longer," he warned. "And I don't fear you like he does. Enjoy your protection for now, you little whore. When he's gone..." he turns your face and licks your cheek, repulsion and shock making you cringe as you swallow the bile rising up your throat, "you're all mine." Pain bursts in your knees as he throws you to the floor and walks away, chuckling proudly to himself. You sit in disbelief, staring at the door he'd just walked through, his ominous threat still ringing in your ears, You're all mine.

Surely when his elder brother succeeds their ailing father as chief he would still enforce his fathers rule. The only good thing to come from everyones fear of you was a command that no man shall ever wed, bed and breed you, lest you produce more of your "kind". But Bardulf had seemed so sure of his words, his intentions, and it fills your veins with icy cold dread. At a loss in this hopeless moment, all you can do is pull your scuffed knees to your chest, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself while silent tears of despair begin to fall.

The sound of dogs barking jolted Marcus from a fitful sleep. A sharp jab shoots through his skull as he sits bolt upright - momentarily confused by his surroundings. The hot sting in his thigh returns and he hisses through his teeth. Then it all comes back to him; the battle, the voice demanding his live capture, waking in this cage and... the fearful looking woman who'd treated his wound and was then dragged away, screaming. Marcus propped himself against the bars of his new abode, let his head fall back and sighed. How could he have let this happen?

It would have been better to die honourably in battle. This is his greatest shame. The barking is suddenly joined by the voices of several children nearby. Marcus watches the children playing with the dogs by some huts. It's looks so... normal; people going about their daily tasks. For the most part he is ignored, save for a few curious kids who decided to push their luck with him, only to run away in fear when he greeted them with a glower. Alone once again, Marcus' thoughts retrace the events that lead to his capture.

Could he have done anything different? Did he become to complacent on the battlefield? But the most pressing issue now is how will he get out of here. He's valuable to these people; that much is obvious otherwise his head would not still be attached to his body. But what do they want from him? If it's information, they can fuck themselves. No amount of torture would ever bring him to betray his soldiers. He'll die before that happens! But maybe neither has to happen.

If he can just find a weakness in this crude looking prison. Upon further inspection it appears to have been constructed in haste. Marcus rises to his knees, swallowing down the groan as his injured leg protests his movements with waves of pain and cramping. He tests every beam, every bar, hoping to discover a weakness somewhere. To his dismay, he finds none. Even the gate is secure. Marcus slumps down, dropping his head into his hands in frustration. A noise at the gate catches his attention. He recognises you as the same woman from last night, accompanied by the same man unlocking the gate.

As soon as you enter, he slams it shut, locks it and walks away. Yet again, you both stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before you clear your throat. "I brought you some food," you say, cautiously, setting down a bowl of stew in the centre of the cage. "I also need to change your bandage," you point to his leg after setting down a jug of water. He makes no attempt to move, to speak ... or to do anything, which you find peculiar. You decide on another approach, sitting on bent legs to seem less imposing.

You take off your bag and pull out your waterskin. "You must be thirsty," you coax gently, tossing the bottle to land at his feet. Marcus looks at the bottle, then at you before grabbing it and gulping it's contents. "You need to eat." You pick up the bowl, offering it in a gesture of goodwill. Again, silence. "You have to keep your strength up if you're going to heal." "What does it matter?" he finally speaks in a hoarse voice, narrowing his eyes at you. "If you die it will be my fault. The consequences would be... awful." You fear to think of what punishment would await you.

"You are not my responsibility, girl," the hostile man before you glowers. "But you're mine," you stressed, placing the bowl back down. "It's in your best interest to obey them. Trust me, resisting never ends well. You remember what happened last night." It wasn't a question, but a warning. Marcus can tell from your grave expression that you've suffered the ramifications of disobedience in the past. "Why?" You blink at him, confused. "Why... what?" "Why do they treat their own so abhorrently? You are one of them, are you not?"

You were not expecting him to ask questions of a personal nature. You've never considered yourself to be one of them, not since... that day. "I was born to this land and this tribe, yes..." is the best answer you can give. "So why would your own people-" "These are not my people!" you declared, indignation wrapped in your words. A flash of confusion crosses his face. "So you're a slave?" "Essentially," you respond, flatly. "What's your name, girl?" he asks after a few moments of silence. His frown softens somewhat as you search his deep brown eyes. "Why do you want to know my name?" you ask, unsure of where this conversation is heading.

"Just don't want to keep having to call you girl." After a moment of uncertainty you answer "Alia. What's yours?" "Marcus Acacius, General of the Armies of the north." You nod, pursing your lips. "Well Marcus Acacius, are you going to tear my throat out if I come any closer to tend to your leg?" Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs, "Do what you have to do." He clumsily slumps to his side, still bound at his hands and feet. You edge closer, bag in hand, still weary of the man in front of you. If the stories are true these monsters cannot be trusted. Marcus inhales sharply as you carefully unwrap the bandage and begin to cleanse the deep laceration at the back of his thigh.

The silence between you both is tense and charged. What only took a few minutes to clean and redress felt like aeons. The sooner you can get away from him, the better. Marcus shuffles onto his backside as you pack your bag. As you sand to leave Marcus breaks the awkward silence. "Why do they keep me alive?" "I don't know," you shrug. "Your life is clearly of value right now... but whatever the reason, it can't be good." Marcus' jaw visibly ticks as your words sink in. "Hmmm," he nods. You walk to the gate and call for Wigmar. Grunting, he comes over to let you out. Before exiting the cage you risk a glance over your shoulder and meet Marcus' eyes. It's Almost like he is studying you and it makes you shiver.

The day drags slowly for Marcus. Exhaustion still afflicts his body and mind, resulting in him drifting off every now and then, only to wake with a jolt each time. The damp ground on which he lays serves as a reminder of his newfound situation. He lays on his left side to keep his injury dry and clean. Half asleep he's suddenly startled by a yelp close by. His vision is blurry as he tries to focus, blinking heavily to clear his head. Then he sees you - about 20 feet away - caked in mud and struggling to get to your feet. A group of young women laugh and hurl insults at you, their laughter becoming hysterical as you slip and slide in your futile attempt to regain your footing and your dignity.

Marcus assumes you had just said something to them as you stood - he's too far away to make out your words - because a blond, who seems to be their leader, is now sneering in your face. He watches the whole interaction with puzzlement and also... pity? A part of him feels slighted on your behalf. You rush away, in obvious haste to put distance between you and your tormentors, eyes landing on Marcus' as he observes from between the bars. He can see, even from this distance, the redness around your eyes as you struggle to withhold the tears that threaten to spill. You quickly disappear down the bank and into a small, shabby hut as the women walk away giggling.

The fading warmth of the low sun spills across Marcus' face, the brightness intolerable even through closed eyelids. Shielding his eyes with his hand, he slowly pulls himself up to a sitting position, leaning against the bars. Footsteps once again catch his attention, his whole body instinctually on high alert. The cage door opens and three men file in, heading straight for him. He tries to fight them but it's hopeless. Two men force Marcus to his feet, both holding him up under each arm while the third holds the gate wide open. Determined to not go easily, Marcus thrashes and struggles as he's paraded through the village towards a long, rectangular building.

Marcus takes in the environment he now stands in; multiple beds with fur blankets line both walls, the wooden walls adorned with sconces, shields and various woven tapestries. Shelves in a corner at the far end hold pottery of different sizes and a large roaring firepit crackles in the centre of the room. Across from the firepit, sat in a large wooden chair draped in furs is an imposing but aged looking man wearing a dark green tunic, cinched at the waist by a thick leather belt. A fur pelt covers his shoulders and a gold band sits on his wrist. Marcus stares impassively at the man he can only assume is the chief.

Despite being in terrible pain, Marcus forces himself to stand tall, shoulders pulled back in a show of confidence and pride. The chief makes a show of giving Marcus a full once over, then with a mocking tone, says, "The General of Rome." Snide laughter arises from several men also present. "And you are...?" Marcus responds with a curl of his lip. "I am Adhelm, chief of the Gutones," the old man replied with an air of superiority. Marcus scoffed at the display of this mans self importance and for that he received a backhander from one of the men who brought him here. "Show some respect to your superiors!" he ordered in a low tone. Marcus turn his head forward, spitting blood onto the floor. "What do you want with me?"

Adhelm rose from his seat and stood face to face with Marcus, his eyes blazing with hate. "I will look into the eyes of my greatest enemy before he dies." Marcus returned the look of contempt but remained silent. "You and your scourge have bled the world dry! You have murdered, enslaved, defiled and brutalized us for so long. Now I shall have my vengeance." Adhelm returned to his chair with satisfaction written all over his weathered face. "So you spared my life just to take it?" Marcus huffed. "Exactly," Adhelm smirked. "Alia!" he barked while picking up the goblet from the arm of his chair. Marcus hadn't even noticed you tucked into the shadows by the wall.

His eyes followed as you hurried over and began filling the chiefs cup with wine, then slunk off with your head down. Adhelm continued, "Your death will send a message to your army and to Rome. At the next battle you will be presented to your men and then I will take great pleasure of relieving you of your head and limbs." Marcus felt the blood drain from his face, his stomach churning with both dread and anger. To be slain like a beast in front of his own men is unthinkable! His mere presence amongst his troops gives both inspiration and hope, so for them to have to witness the demise of their commander will significantly impact them.

But of course, that's the whole point; to crush moral and instil fear in your enemy. This piece of horse shit knows what he's doing. Marcus spat at he feet of the chief, screwing his face up in revulsion. "You're all nothing more than a bunch of barbaric heathens! You are mistaken if you believe my death will bring you victory. All you will do is bring the wrath of Rome upon you and your people to the likes of which have never been seen!" Adhelm raised his nose in the air, a pleased smile tugging at his lips. "We shall see, general. Take him back." With a wave of the chiefs hand Marcus is escorted out of the building and back to his prison.

All through the heated exchange you kept your head down, feigning disinterest while listening intently to every venomous word thrown back and forth by the two men. The silver lining to being practically invisible to these people meant you'd often overheard sensitive conversations regarding war stratagies, problems within the community, and even issues of a more intimate nature. You were never considered to be of any significance or even a threat, which is why you are now present while Adhelm dismissed all of his men to talk privately to his sons. "Kuno, Bardulf..." the chief began as he slouched back in his chair, trying to, but failing to stifle a deep, rattling cough, which resulted in him bringing up a bit of blood.

After a moment he continued, " You must both be made aware that this next battle will likely be my last." At that your head tipped up involuntarily, cautiously observing the conversation. "Father, you can't-" Adhelm raised a hand to silence Kuno. "I have accepted that I shall die soon. Either from battle or from what ails me. The future of our people, our way of life will depend on you, Kuno. You are strong and capable." Adhelm then looked to his second born. "Bardulf, I expect you to aid and council your chief accordingly. He will need all the support he can garner." "Of course, father," Bardulf bowed his head, reverently, "We will not fail you." Adhelm stood, walked over to his sons and clasped them both on their shoulders. "I am proud of you both."

You couldn't help but scoff quietly, rolling your eyes. Proud? Of what? Raising two arseholes. The second one being the cause of most of your misery for years. Maybe your reaction hadn't been as quiet as you'd thought because Bardulf is now glaring at you with pure detestation. You freeze, gulping down the lump in your throat while trying to remain calm. While Adhelm and Kuno continue to talk Bardulfs wrathful expression slowly dissolves into a sickening grin, his icy blue eyes dragging along your body, making your skin crawl. Unable to stand his gaze any longer, you drop your head down, willing the knot in your stomach to unclench. You're sure this isn't the end of it, judging by that maniacal grin; a promise that you won't get off that easily.

Series Masterlist Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Ch 4

@myownwholewildworld @imherefordeanandbones @picketniffler @h0w-1-wanna-l1v3 @chrissy-forfucksakes-wakeup @meetmeatyourworst @yorksgirl @joeldjarin @echo-ethe @whirlwindrider29

[ronearoundblindly]

okey dokey, I've had *a day* and will use this glorious...🥴 idek which body part to reference 😮‍💨...and merge it with your previous ask about cooking or baking for Steve and giving him a nice, comforting, home cooked meal. And his response to that act of service and caring. Because this is me, I will obviously be starting with ::gasp:: an argument. Don't you love how predictable I am?!?!

To Tire Is Human

No warnings, uhhh, canon language (sh*t)? Written in drafts so no exact word count. It's not long (2k maybe, very much unedited)!

"The hustle? What does that even mean?" Steve gripes as he finishes up various chores around the property.

"It means I do the work."

Your boyfriend rips apart the wood log he was about to start chopping. "Do the work? Do the work? For nine hours? After leaving home early enough to be at work for an hour before the actual work starts? Then staying at least a half hour to clean?"

"Unless I also have to restock," you add quickly just to really turn the knife.

"You have got to be shitting me," he nearly snarls, eyes down toward the pile.

You don't blame him for not understanding. He's from an era where people worked to live, the point was the living. This...is not longer that era, and you are not of that generation.

Of course, it frustrates him, too, because your work makes living almost impossible. With all that he just mentioned, the commute, and attempting to offer yourself the basic self-care of eating and washing, you don't have the energy to do chores, and you've certainly struggled to find energy enough to show Steve love.

"That's the gig nowadays. That's how us super-average humans do it."

The thing is that you are also so tired of having this conversation. You are tired of the guilt for not magically considering yourself the center of your universe because, despite jokes about every kid receiving participation trophies, it is deeply engrained in you that you are replaceable.

If you don't perform above and beyond, fired. If you ask for too much and offer too little, gone. If you don't constantly learn how to outpace others, useless. It never ends.

And, finally, Steve Rogers might not get this but you age. You aren't powerful to begin with, but day after day, you get weaker and older, while someone else on Earth gets smarter and stronger.

You don't want to hear the spiel. You can see from his pinched face that Steve wants to give the spiel.

You sigh in exhaustion and prepare to hear the whole Cap speech before you two go pick up dinner in town.

One day later that week, your work schedule falls apart and lands you back at home hours before Steve is due to return. Antsy to accomplish something--and looking for a snack,--you notice the perfect combination of ingredients, something saucy and salty, hearty, just like Steve melts for, and a fruity baked good.

It's a lot of steps, there's a lot of mess to clean up as you go, and then there's still a lot left behind. You're hastily rushing around to set the oven timer and yank a skillet off the burner. Perhaps the whole endeavor has gotten you in over your head.

Steve appears out of nowhere.

Well. Not nowhere, but all the chaos in the kitchen is making enough noise, you didn't hear the door.

"I have everything under control," you automatically say.

His expression morphs from one of surprise and concern to utterly overwhelmed. His eyes look glassy as he approaches and scoops you into a quick hug, hands tucking themselves beneath the hem of your shirt so he can feel your skin as he breathes you in.

He quickly releases you at the sounds of oil popping and sniffs, reverting to Cap mode.

"What do you need? What can I do?"

All you can think is that the table hasn't been set.

Steve eats his whole meal--entree and dessert--with his non-dominant hand just so he can hold yours.

He had one of your days.

He spent the drive home listing all the things he needed to do in his head, more energy for each tick, more time for sitting still, more of him to give...

...and then he got to enjoy a lovely dinner with you.

You spent your energy on him, on you both. You spent energy specifically to spend time with him, and Steve could cry but he won't. He keeps smiling, making happy, pleased noises with each delicious bite.

An hour ago, he wasn't sure he could feed himself or wash up. He's simply too tired.

You start playing with his hand, drawing patterns in his palm, lightly dragging your nails on the sensitive inside of his wrist. It makes him shiver.

There were at least four things he was supposed to do outside before it got too dark, a load of towels and sheets needs done, a basket of clothes waits to be folded and put away. He does not want to do any of it.

His fingers close around yours.

"Thank you," he interjects softly, "I was so tired."

You lean forward and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, whispering in his ear, "you wanna leave the dishes to soak and watch a movie instead?"

Steve chuckles, turns his head to quickly kiss your lips, and nuzzles his nose to yours.

"Oh, you're a naughty minx, aren't you?"

Playfully racing up the stairs, ignoring the plates and glasses still on the table, you call back to him.

"Show some hustle, big guy! We got a whole lot of nothing to do."

He twitches, just for an instant, before finally deciding that grabbing the spare pillows from the guest room will add more to the movie experience than doing the dishes.

You're both going to do the work tonight: the work of taking care of each other, enjoying each other, and being human together.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[the-moon-files]

Wait, quick idea! Twilight looks like the only hylian in his village because everyone else has round ears, so what if he wasn’t as surprised as the others to see their human companion so resilient, but still fairly impressed because of the fact that most if not all people in his village don’t put themselves in as drastic situations as the reader? Or is this just humans from our world?

get out of my head lmao /lh - you, me, and wayfayrr are actually the same person on diff accounts LMAO

im of the belief that (blame @wayfayrr, my beloved) that he knows of humans bc of some in his village but yeah, just not the type of human in drastic situations

(ALSO they wrote me a fun, long, glorious, male reader human space orc au fic for winning their raffle a bit ago, and it brings up their headcanon abt this and i Adore It actually, check it out here pls if u wanna know🤲)

(also if u see this wayfayrr, sorry for the ping, also should i be calling u moss? or wayfayrr?? idk which, i hope thats even ok to ask 😭 i assumed u would call my ass Moon)

Moon: Male-Masc Reader (he/him)

Orbit: short headcanons-ish, rambling mostly

Stars: Twilight Princess Link (Twi/Twilight), mentions of other Links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: none known, & TWs: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

to reiterate what i said up there, in case u skipped it for the bullet points,

i like the headcanon he knows humans, knows some of their quirks, and how they were the first ppl the other hylian villagers called on to help stuck cows or downed wagons, lots of heavy lifting stuff

but he really hasnt seen the extent of real humans, bc the humans who were in Ordon, well, they lived in hylian society,

why would they need the adrenaline to lift a car when hylians have set up whole tools and systems in all their towns to help lift just a full bucket of water out of the well??

not to mention, i think all the humans in his village were older adults? like at least not the age theyd be doing things like parkour or going to any trampoline parks type of age,

id imagine its more like stories talked about amongst hylians how hard humans can go, and even the humans themselves talked abt things like,

“well compared to u hylians, we have stomachs made of molten lava to you guys really, but we never have to use it, bc u know hylian food works just fine”

when Twi asked they would say stuff like that, but as soon as he saw ur human ass just picking wildflowers and berries off the side of the road to snack on? even random grasses/vines at some point (kudzu)?? easily eating Wild’s Dubious Food that's DEFINITELY got monster parts in it???! gnawing on the bone of a cucco and it just breaks??!!! and you look surprised too, thank fuck finally a normal reaction from u- oh my goddesses u were just curious (damn the elders were right abt human curiosity too) **and are now sucking out the marrow and eating the bone-!!!!!!!!!!!!

Twilight’s perspective of you is actually the equivalent of like, reading stories about vampires all ur life, then this new friend you made starts to get allergic to garlic, crave blood, has crazy strength and advanced senses, etc

and he’s just watching those honest-to-Hylia human mythological feats play out in real time in front of him, like he’s the only self-aware character in the story that immediately clocks the really obvious vampire as a vampire lmao

is the first to either 1. start choking on his laugh as he theoretically knows ur about to jump on the back of a lynel/hinox to ride it around and watch as the others come to the same conclusion OR 2. try to Stop you from jumping on said big monster in an attempt to ride it around bc he gets used to ur human BS quicker than the others and can see it coming a mile away now lol

very much so this meme:

(ur welcome i made it myself <3)

anyway id love to rant abt this dynamic

abt both Twi’s shock at you eating peppers like a god has come down from the sky to prove their immortality,

but also poor rancher esstientally humansitting you too lmao

the Chain/Time/Wars absolutely put him down as the resident human expert like: “ok he just drank like, 5? No- Four stop him from drinking more at least- (dual sighs). okay, 6 stamina potions, will that kill him??”

Twilight, saviour of Hyrule, of the Twili, Link from Twilight Princess himself,

has to keep a record book of all the new shit he’s heard/learned about humans in Ordon, what he has actively learned abt ur ass just fucking around and finding out, and the few bread crumbs of information u give him abt ur species

(that rlly just come off as kind of cryptid statements abt u/humanity, or don't apply in this scenario bc ur only comparison is Earth Rules, which honestly scare every single fucking one of them in the same way as walking on Ganon’s lawn or something, like straight up view ur home planet as enemy territory, the Amazon jungle, the Hyrule wilds if you will-)

Twilight also gets involuntarily volunteered for human-sitting duty too

tbh the only person Not allowed on human-sitting duty, when u guys go new areas esp, is Wild/Hyrule

you’d tell him you wanna get inside the guardian robot to operate it and ride it around and he’d probably be in shock you even fathomed something like that, yet also now EXTREMELY intrigued to watch it play out

(they’re both more of a “u wanna jump off a cliff?? that's actually crazy, wait for me please.” he seems to think he can somehow protect you if he joins you? its worked sometimes to be fair to him ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ just not really conveniently when the rest of the Chain are around lmao)

☆

i live btw, ive been writing/updating fics along with life updates (moving states/new job/online class) so a few asks will hopefully be answered over here in the next 2ish weeks

no promises, my life is kinda girlbossing at the moment too close to the sun and i am Nervous abt disappointing u guys

i already feel like im disappointing my other blog bc i haven't posted in forever bc im writing a fic instead of asks during any free time i dedicate to writing for it so :/

pls excuse my super slowness like a package ur waiting for in the mail or smth type of slow

AGAIN thanks for the ask!! i hope this was at least entertaining to read as some addon to what u said, you guys have gotta check out some of wayfayrr’s stuff if ur into this, bc they're the only other place i can think of that's talked abt humans not just being the same as hylians

have a great week!!

Peace out hugs and chaos,

🌙

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don't know if this has already been asked, but what did you think of the Halloween event? Is it too early to ask? How did it compare with the other events?

Aaaaah, thank you for asking!! I was actually in the middle of writing my own "these are my thoughts" post even if no one specifically asked 😂 but I'm glad I can just reply to this ask with what I was cooking up~

***Warning: SPOILERS AHEAD!!*** ***Please also note: these are just my OWN thoughts and opinions! In sharing them, I do not mean to disparage those who think differently than me; I only mean to contribute to the discussion.***

I'll be quick and rip off the band-aid now: I liked this event about as much as I did Stage in Playful Land, maybe a little better than Playful Land if I think about it. If you know anything about my thoughts on the previous Halloween event, well... Let's just say it's a mixed bag. Neither of them comes close to toppling the peak that was Glorious Masquerade. (Fandom consensus seems to be quite positive though, with many liking Nightmare more than, if not the same as, GloMasq while Playful Land is still considered the weakest of the bunch.) Playful Land and Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas both suffer from general pacing issues. The former had an intriguing premise and setting but also many plot holes, a lack of active involvement from the SSR squad, and a resolution that was way too convenient. The latter, Nightmare, was very boring throughout because the majority of the event was centered on party preparations. I enjoyed everyone's bickering and the SSR squad's role in the event, but I wanted more than just that. It's basically like Terror is Trending, but if it had the Nightmare Before Christmas characters also featured. However, Nightmare did have a really interesting ending that played with amnesia and time paradox tropes. It's just that the road to get there wasn't anything special. I'll now get into all of this in detail, but it's quite long. Ready for a read? Then let's go ^^

My Extended Ramblings:

The initial aesthetic is strong. VERY strong, especially to me, a girlie that loves Nightmare Before Christmas and formal wear😭 BY GOD DOES EVERYONE LOOK SHARP AND DRESSED TO KILL IN THOSE NIGHTMARE SUITS... The devs totally popped off with the fits. I also loved how all the characters' coloring shifted once they entered the book; there's notable hatch marks on their shadows and even their skin and hair adopt bleaker saturations. These are SO much better outfits than the GloMaq and Playful Land ones, I'M SORRY BUT THAT'S JUST THE TRUTH. The other events tended to have chunky silhouettes and/or overly embellished elements to their designs that didn't sit quite right with me. NIGHTMARE SUITS HOWEVER ARE PERFECT AS THEY ARE...

... That being said, I think this event's premise was not great. I know everyone's mileage with this will vary greatly, but personally I don't like Lost in the Book events. I don't enjoy having Disney properties so blatantly shoved at my face; I'd prefer it to just be a distant part of the lore and history of the Twst world. The other issue with the event being so closely tied to its Disney film is that the story becomes so predictable. You can't really explore beyond the bonds of what the film has already set up, so you're trapped with whatever status quo Disney has mandated is "okay". (For example, in Nightmare, it has to be set BEFORE the events of the actual film in order to keep things "the same" when the film events actually play out.) Lost in the Books rely on individual nostalgia to some extent to get you invested in what it's trying to sell. This was particularly evident in this event, which featured several characters from the film and made Jack a very big fixture in the story. I for one was not sold on it despite my own fond feelings for Nightmare Before Christmas. I needed it to prove its own merits to me, and I'm not entirely sure if it was successful on that front.

I have made it no secret that I don't like most Twst events in general. Too often does it feel like pointless meandering and sightseeing without anything of real substance happening (though I do enjoy meeting new characters and learning new lore). That's also the case with Nightmare; the scale of the conflict isn't anything spectacular--but that's fine, it can still work as is, even if I don't personally find it interesting. I was still plenty entertained by all the bickering between the boys and between them and the residents of Halloween Town. The highlights for me definitely have to be Jade being a little shit to everyone, Jamil being tormented with bugs, Sebek's big speech in the climax, and Leona just beefing with EVERYONE in sight (particularly Malleus). The comedy and character interactions helped the middle part of the event not feel dull. I do feel like them having to switch groups around halfway through was short of a shoehorned way to prolong the middle of the event though 💦

One thing I noticed like, right away as I was playing this event was how disjointed it felt. And for the life of me, I could not pinpoint why… until I went back and compared the number of chapters per part. This is how the parts break down:

Part 1 - 13 chapters

Part 2 - 22 chapters

Part 3 - 20 chapters

Part 4 - 13 chapters

Part 5 - 16 chapters

For comparison, Glomasq:

Part 1 - 15 chapters

Part 2 - 18 chapters

Part 3 - 17 chapters

Part 4 - 19 chapters

Part 5 - 18 chapters

And Playful Land:

Part 1 - 16 chapters

Part 2 - 21 chapters

Part 3 - 11 chapters

Part 4 - 16 chapters

Part 5 - 18 chapters

Generally, Part 1 is dedicated to setting up the scenario and reason for travel. Parts 2 and 3 are meant for exploring the new location, with a big reveal dropping towards the end of 3 that kicks the conflict into high-gear. Part 4 is for combat, and then Part 5 is the continuation of the combat (with a focus on confronting the Big Bad), climax, and resolution. … Did you notice it? GloMasq (the only event of the three I consider overall excellent) is pretty evenly spaced out. Playful Land meanwhile has a weirdly short 11 chapters in Part 3 but had the extremely long 21 chapters in Part 2 beforehand. The discrepancy is made even worse in Nightmare, with Parts 1 and 4 being woefully short and Parts 2 and 3 being 20+ chapters each. It has the (likely unintended) effect of making the conflict resolution feel really rushed.

Alright, I think I've held off for long enough. Let's talk about the elephant in the room, our new addition to the Halloweenies, Mister Skully J. Graves himself. Right from the get-go, he had a mysterious air about him, especially since he's the first ever character to meet his twisted inspiration. Like I said in my first impressions post, I'm really into his design, but his personality shocked me. I expect some whimsy, but not a guy that flat-out kisses everyone he meets and calls total strangers "lovely dears". At the same time, he has the spirit of "sad wet cat" energy, and his expressions can whiplash between that and being absolutely deranged, which I found kinda charming. I get the feeling that he charmed a LOT of fans, as I saw many gushing about his otome-esque behavior and loving how he always calls attention to Yuu and Yuu's opinions. Unfortunately, Skully has what I lovingly dub "Ashengrotto Syndrome" due to my own experiences with Azul. That is to say, I started off liking both Azul and Skully, but after a certain point (book 3 for Azul, part 2 for Skully) they both took a nosedive right into my dislike zone. This is something I vaguely alluded to in my halfway through the event impressions post. I'm under the impression that this is a surprising opinion, so I'll try to do my best to explain why Skully lost his appeal to me. So the initial deterrent was his defensive and controlling behavior surrounding Halloween. He also gets so nasty and speaks down to others who don't see his perspective, which I don't find cute at all. I've mentioned before that I hate it when characters act elitist/gate-keepy and refuse to accept other opinions or change, and Skully fits that bill to a T. Sure, he might have his reasons, but I still find the result of his reasons distasteful. It's fine if he wants to respect the past or celebrate Halloween the way he's been taught, but it's another thing entirely to force those views on others. I've been on the receiving end of this kind of attitude and it was very unpleasant; I would not wish that upon anyone. (To make a long story short, I had invited a friend from outside my culture for a holiday meal so neither of us would be alone that year. That friend then complained that I was eating "non-traditional" food for the holiday.) Really rubbed me the wrong way when Skully started to tell others about HIS Halloween while being totally against everyone else's suggestions. Some of the others (like Jamil) even made an effort to try and include him anyway after his outbursts, and Skully was still unable to accept this lying down.

The hand-kissing thing was... charming at first, because I thought it was just his way of greeting people. But the more Skully did it, the less charming it seemed to me because of how everyone reacts to it. The others are CLEARLY uncomfortable with it, but he disrespects their boundaries by continuing to do so. To me, that seems very invasive and rude. Skully especially kisses Yuu a lot, and whether or not you like it will be up to individual preference--but personally, as someone who doesn't like strangers touching me intimately, I'm not into it.

During the Halloween planning, I noticed Skully speaking to Yuu directly quite often, which is different than the previous Halloween events. I started to feel a little uneasy about this, and for the longest time I could not tell you why. Then I realized. I don't think I can explain it any better than how I did in a previous post, so I'll copy and paste from there:

Another thing that really bothered me was that Skully keeps asking Yuu for their opinion. It SEEMS polite to consider them, but his intentions are way less selfless than they appear. Skully is often asking Yuu for their thoughts AFTER some other character has disagreed with him. So he is literally only consulting Yuu because he wants someone on HIS side. If you ever pick the dialogue option where you disagree with him, Skully insists there must be a misunderstanding and he will explain it to you no matter how long it takes. Don’t you see??? He doesn’t want to know what Yuu truly thinks; he wants validation in his own way of thinking. That’s NOT actually being considerate. The same shit happens when Skully tries to kiss Grim again. Grim dodges but Skully sneaks behind him and kisses him anyway because I guess that’s what gentlemen do according to him. Bro has demonstrated time and time again he does not value consent nor what others’ thoughts are on anything that differs from his own thoughts.

Skully lets his true colors show around the end of the third part. There, he feeds Jack Skellington a sleeping poison, turns Grim into a pumpkin, then takes Jack, Grim, AND Yuu as his hostages while claiming he'll reign over Halloween. Okay, that sounds great on paper, right? But there's so many practical problems with this.

Firstly, HOW does Skully plan to achieve this??? He's not that powerful since he's a first year; how does he intend to stand up to the NRC students? We even know at this point that he can't use his UM that much. Skully has shown he is impulsive and doesn't think ahead too, because he just assumes that Grim figured him out after walking in on the scene of the crime instead of lying/deceiving him about who poisoned Jack. He could have easily blamed someone else or claimed he walked in and found Jack like this already, but he didn't. It comes off as very near-sighted and not well planned out on Skully's part (which may very well be intentional; I don't think he was written to be a large threat.) I know this event's plot isn't meant to be as serious as prior iterations of Halloween events, but it sure doesn't help build tension for the finale.

We find out later in the event that Skully isn't mistreating his captives; he's keeping them in the bathtub Lock, Shock, and Barrel ride around in, feeding Grim and Yuu snacks, and asking them to please keep quiet. He also rambles on a lot about how he admires Yuu and how he wants to grant them a perfect Halloween, etc. That's... wholesome for a kidnapper, I guess??? But what I don't appreciate is (again) how he keeps shoving his ideas onto me and acting like he knows what's best for everyone. He’s not respecting my autonomy or right to think how I want. Skully is literally made of the most negative traits of Idia and Malleus while having none of the danger level of either one/j 😭 This makes me continue to not take him seriously and think that Skully could easily be beaten up--which does, in fact, end up being the case.

The ones who truly shine in this event are Sebek, Jamil, and Leona. The implementation of the SSR squad in Nightmare is much better than Playful Land. In Playful, it felt like Kalim, Ace, and Ortho hardly did anything unique to save the day; instead, it was a convenient phone call that rescued them from demise. The most I can say is Kalim was open-minded and tried to welcome Fellow and hear him out. Most of the other things could have been fulfilled by any other character, which didn't make the SSRs feel as integral as they were in GloMasq (with Azul's UM being needed, Malleus being the one Rollo has beef with, and Idia understanding the feeling of losing a younger brother and mourning). In Nightmare, each of the SSRs is similarly given a chance to shine with their special skills and UMs.

Beginning with Sebek! He leads a lot of the planning and serves as the one to draw up plans, which earns him praise from everyone, including his seniors. It's excellent set-up for him to later confront Skully about the idea of being recognized and acknowledged by one's idols (which I will discuss later in this post). Sebek is also the first to confront Skully on Spiral Hill after Skully has kidnapped Grim, Yuu, and Jack. In an act of desperation, Skully starts firing off magic and making really deranged expressions; Sebek unleashes his own UM, Living Bolt. This results in a strong flash of light in their location. The impact destroys Skully's shades and causes him to break down--he wore them as part of his ensemble, trying so hard to emulate his Halloween idol, Jack. Skully manages to pumpkin Sebek in the midst of his fit, and Sebek insists that Malleus--his own idol--will surely rescue him. NEXT UP IS L*ONA OTL WHO HAS MADE ME SO ILL THE ENTIRE MONTH OF OCTOBER, HURK 🤢 who heard the shouting. He rescues Sebek (he’s de-pumpkin’d) and Skully isn’t able to touch him because King’s Roar is just too OP 😭 (I’m sort of confused about how tf Leona’s UM works though?????? He seems to be sanding Skully’s MAGIC, which shouldn’t even be tangible???) I’m confused. dbsvsjsnskwk And he tells Skully to get back up do he can keep beating him back down????? BRUTAL. Leona’s been pretty useful up until this point too, taking charge in leading the group, strategizing, sussing Skully out, and thinking long and hard about what his true identity is. Bro’s really working those fat brain cells of his, huh…

I think this is the first of the Halloween events (that introduce new characters) where the new guy’s explicitly said to be in danger of OB. Not sure why that is, it’s just interesting to note???

SkULLy RUNS FOR IT and bumps into Lock, Shock, and Barrel, who proceed to subdue him. Surprise, turns out that Jamil had gotten to them first and Snake Whispered the trio. The kids call Jamil MASTER and -SAMA… My guy, you are so repressed 💀 (I recall it being said in book 4 that using his UM on multiple people can result in rapid blog accumulation so UHHHH I guess I’ll overlook this for now or assume 3 people isn’t an issue????) Earlier in the event, Jamil was like the only person to approach Skully to try and include him in the planning. Must be used to this being a big brother + always dealing with his dorm.

I’m not sure if it’s just me but??? It feels like they overlooked how some of the SSR trio’s UMs worked just to have it fit in the context of the climax they wrote. For Jamil’s, maybe you can excuse the fact that he’s controlling 3 kids by saying it’s easier for him to manipulate young minds. BUT THERE’S NO EXCUSING HOW LEONA CAN SAND MAGIC 😭 At least say he has strong defensive magic that Skully cannot break through????

It’s times like these that make me really question whether or not Yuu is actually important for helping these people learn to get along, because they seemed to have resolved the issue just fine without any kind of intervention from Yuu. Yeah, they bickered and picked on each other too, but they still fixed things on their own (albeit on their own, but it comes together in the end anyway) while Yuu is kidnapped and completely out of the picture.

Vcdnsksksksn The moment that follows is kinda funny and wholesome… Well, for the SSR trio, not for Skully. They all sort of rub it in Skully’s face that he lost and then praise each other but in a back-handed way??? Like they call each other nasty and shit at planning, etc. Leona says Jamil bullied Skully so much that the poor thing started crying, then Jamil accuses Leona of threatening Skully a ton… then they gang up on Sebek (wow, they’re both awful and I love that for them).

Seeing this camaraderie makes Skully throw ANOTHER fit because he’s jealous that Sebek gets all this praise and attention. Meanwhile, Skully is all alone, always alone. Though it’s not explicitly stated, it’s implied Skully is deeply insecure about being by himself, as his classmates at school don’t understand him and rejected him + his interests. He extols a lonely and desolate version of Halloween too, something that reflects his own soul... clinging to the only solace he has in this world, the one constant. A holiday that he cherishes so very much--to the point where his own UM is linked back to it. The big dilemma he goes through this event seems to be a mix of having his own views being questioned as well as having his impression of his Halloween idol challenged. This makes Sebek a good foil character for him, similar to how Kalim was for Fellow and Idia for Rollo in the previous Halloween events. Skully even calls out Sebek explicitly, saying that he has all of the things he has never had. He'll never be disappointed by his idol Malleus (sadhbaslidbas this is ironic, considering the events of book 7), he has senpai who praise him, he has Zero for a friend, etc. Life’s soooo unfair, Skully claims. And like??? I was so shocked to see Sebek acting mature about the whole thing??????? He refutes Skully's claims and tells him straight up that to believe in someone isn't to force your own views onto them so your idol stays how you pictures them in your head. It's a mistake to think of one's idol as perfect--not even Malleus is perfect. Even so, Sebek explains that agreeing with someone and loving/respecting them are very different things... so he will accept Malleus's flaws and love him nevertheless. Even if he disagrees with Malleus, even if they have to part ways, Sebek will accept it. That's really surprising coming from him, seeing as how Sebek acts absolutely SURE of Malleus's absolute goodness in the main story... Now I'm wondering if this event must take place after book 7??? Because that's when Sebek has his own views on Malleus totally shaken. Still, I'm so proud of Sebek for dropping this hard truth on Skully--it's definitely something Skully needed to hear and be reminded of to be pulled back to reality. He also just outright calls Skully put for all his cowardly moves, including going after those who cannot fight back 💀 Very Ace of him to do…

Speaking of Skully, what really put the final nail in his coffin and sent him to the Shadow Realm (my dislike tier lol) was all the tantrums he threw this event. I understand being upset and frustrated. Really, I do. I understand being envious of others, of feeling like you've got no one by your side. But is it REALLY necessary to react like that…? And so frequently… He just shouts “shut up” over and over again… OTL I don't know, it feels like I could sympathize with him more if they properly explained why it is Skully is so into Halloween (besides his hometown being the same) and why he holds the past in such high regard. The most we get is it's just something his hometown is into and when he left for school, none of his peers really accepted that. Is the implication that Skully retreated further into his hyperfixation to cope with his loneliness????? If so, I'm not sure if this was properly conveyed so now Skully is left acting like a big baby and overreacting to everyone trying to get him to calm down. The worst of it is when he claims he’s the one who TRULY loves Halloween and everyone else is fake. That sounds like something straight out of an angry elitist otaku’s vent post. Other characters acted similar to this when on the brink of OB (which Skully was) but never so childishly. This might just be a me thing though, I don't really care for overly emotional characters; they're usually not my cup of tea.

I'm not sure how I feel about everyone forgiving Skully and partying with him at the end for the Halloween celebration. On one hand, yeah, forgiving him makes sense because it's not like he was plotting anything crazily world shattering like Rollo or a participating in a large-scale crime ring like Fellow. Skully didn't really harm anyone (though he did try to shatter someone he pumpkin’d), at least not on a large scale like Rollo and Fellow did. On the other hand, I think it was a little bit too overdone with how sappy it was??? Like why did Jack say he was PROUD of Skully for being so passionate that he went to these extremes for Halloween? Why did Jack give Skully a HEAD PAT after the shenanigans he pulled?? I felt that saying he's forgiven and inviting him to join the festivities anyway would be sufficient. And again, I detest how Skully disregarded everyone’s consent and kissed them (Yuu and the SSR trio) as an apology even when they (SSR trio) already made it clear they didn’t want to be kissed. That just felt super gross to me, not funny or cute 😔

One of the big highlights of this event was, of course, the Twst cover of This is Halloween. Everything about it is just so... *chef's kiss* from the strong vocal performance to the perfect selection of characters to recreate each scene. It's a shame that we can't access the song outside of this event, but I know that I'll be playing it on an endless loop off of Youtube 😂

For all of the issues I had with the story up until this point, I'll be the first to say that the ending was genuinely sweet. Skully actually expresses gratitude towards everyone (a first, lmao) and calls us his friends, the best thing that has ever happened to him, etc. He wants to meet with everyone and celebrate Halloween with them again. BUT. I don't like that he singled out Yuu specifically as someone he really likes. I get the same feelings from him as I do with Malleus... Like, there's a weird over-familiarity and attachment he has with Yuu despite Yuu not doing or saying much to bond with him. His reaction seems unwarranted to me, with a lot of the appeal of his friendship coming from how much the player projects onto him. (And to be clear, I say this ONLY for myself, as Yuu is meant to be a character for self-inserting; in the case where I put myself in Yuu's shoes, I would be uncomfortable with how Skully is acting toward me.)

Now we get to the ending that seems to have emotionally broken the fandom.

I said earlier in this post that I don't like Lost in the Book events, and another reason for that is because there's amnesia involved at the end. I feel like an event isn't worth it if the memories get wiped anyway because then it's like the events never happened at all. However, Nightmare actually played with this trope and did something really cool with it. Even though those who leave the book have their memories erased, they're still left with some residual feelings that can propel people to act. In the Stitch event, this resulted in the boys wanted to vacation to the beach. In Nightmare, Skully--who was transported within the book from his original time HUNDREDS OF YEARS AGO--was so touched by the connections he made in the book that he essentially becomes a changed man. He graduates from NRC and travels the world to spread the joy of Halloween, thus being responsible for why it's such a big holiday in modern Twisted Wonderland, the era which our main cast is from.

No one remembers the book's events, but Skully is so thoroughly motivated by his lost memories... He somehow recreates the Nightmare Suit, BUT DROPS THE SHADES (a symbol of him trying to emulate Jack) BECAUSE HE HAS NOW BECOME HIS OWN PERSON. He shares a jubilant version of Halloween because that's the version he cherished celebrating with his idol and first real friends. History doesn't remember him, but his legacy is still going strong. LIKE THE GAO POSE... DID IT ORIGINATE FROM HIM???? ? ? ? ??????? ?? AND NOW I'M THINKING ABOUT ALL THE FUN THE GHOSTS AND STUDENTS HAD IN THE FIRST EVER HALLOWEEN EVENT... BECAUSE OF HIM SPREADING THE HOLIDAY AROUND

The NRC students don't remember him either, but they must somewhere in the deepest recesses of their hearts... CUZ THEY ALL STILL MAKE COMMENTS ABOUT HIM, LIKE LEONA SAYING BRO LOOKS LIKE A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOWMEOW (exaggeration). There's also the implication that Skully's spirit is still around, since the characters remark feeling a strange cooling sensation on the back of their hands. We never SEE him, but we sense that there's something there. In the end, they promise that they'll make the best Halloween ever in honor of his legacy and we get sequel bait.

Twst REALLY had to go and drop that ending on us and then peace out, huh 🤡 It's hard to put my feelings about this ending into words, but I think I would personally describe it as very bittersweet yet romantic. Not lovey-dovey romantic, but like... it portrays a hopeful future even though it's sad too. Like, it's tragic that the NRC students and Skully will never be able to celebrate together again. But isn't it cool that even though they were born in totally different eras, fate still allowed them to meet and completely change the course of history? And even if they forget about their encounter, that meeting still impacts them to this very day. It changed the world and their lives forever. Reaching for that thing you're missins and forgetting, without really know what it is... Something lingering there, without a form... There's something so dream-like about the concept, I have to commend the Twst devs for coming up with it. In that sense, I'm quite satisfied with the conclusion despite the bumps in the road I ran into on the way.

IN CONCLUSION. Yeah, I thought this event was another mixed bag. The pacing was bad and nothing that interesting happened since the story was mainly about preparing for Halloween. I'm not a fan of Skully. However, what I can say is that Nightmare had a good showcase of Sebek, Jamil, and Leona's strong suits and actually allowed them to resolve the crisis. The ending is also much stronger than Playful Land's and poses many interesting questions about Skully and his impact on history.

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Eternal flame of the heart

Rollo Flamme x reader because it's Glorious Masquerade season!!

Tbh I wasn't even planning on writing this but the idea just hit me out of nowhere so what was I supposed to do?

Warning(s): fainting/unconsciousness, Rollo is a bit of a creep, drugging, this is a short one but I still hope you like it!

Slight disclaimer: I'm very sorry if I mischaraterise Rollo, it has been a while since I actually read through the event, and I have not had time to reread it. As well as this, I'm sorry if I have forgotten or misremembered any important details of the Glorious Masquerade story. Okay, that's all, enjoy!

You climbed the bell tower, you made it through all the firelotuses... everyone has sacrificed for you to get here... everyone is counting on you.

Malleus, Idia, Azul, and you have made it successfully to the top floor, but... but then... then... something goes wrong.

Everyone... everyone except for you and Rollo just collapse... and now, you are alone with him.

You are alone with him.

What do you do.

"Hello, (Y/N)." Rollo greets you simply. You start to panic and grab a small, stray plank of wood off the floor, intending to attack him with it. You don't have magic, so this is the best self-defense you have right now... "Ah, there's no need for that. Put it down."

"Y-you don't tell me what to do." You try your hardest to stay confident, fully intending to whack him with the wood plank.

"You don't truly intend on hurting me, do you?" He smirks at you... so uncomfortable to look at. "Of course you don't. How would you expect yourself, a magicless human with no knowledge of this world, to get rid of all the firelotuses?"

"QUIET!!" You yell, preparing to swing the plank. "You... you, get rid of the flowers! All of them! Now! Y-you're the cause of this, so... you must know how to get rid of them!"

He moves so quick, it's almost like he glides across the floor...

"You are magicless. You are..." He leans in close to you, and whispers in you ear, "beautiful."

You were about to h him with your wood plank, but it very suddenly lit on fire?! You dropped the wood as it burnt your hand and Rollo stomped out the flame, leaning even closer to you... damn it, you should really pick that up again when he gives you the chance.

"So different from everyone else... so... pure..." He takes a deep breath before whispering to you again. "Your hair smells so wonderful."

You push him away from you, disgusted.

"What is wrong with you?! Why the hell would you do something like this, you... DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS WILL DO TO YOUR WORL-!?"

As you begin to yell, something is forced onto your mouth and nose... hang on... wait... what's happening...

"This is known mostly as poor man's sleeping poison, at least here, though I prefer to use the proper name for it." Rollo grabs you by the back of the head as well, in order to keep you from just avoiding what he does to you. That's not to say you don't struggle, you absolutely do, it's just that it doesn't do much for you... "That proper name of course being chloroform."

...shit...

"You'll be okay. The firelotuses won't hurt you. I won't hurt you."

...everything is starting to go dark...

"I'll put you somewhere nobody will find you. You won't have to deal with the troubles of this world, well, not that you would have had to anyways after I succeed."

...

"Good night."

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#42: The Fuel (1.04)

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

Even when everything crashes down around them, Richonne's love always prevails. 🥹

And now that they’ve recentered on what truly fuels them, Richonne then gets every type of fuel they need to finally go home. So we gotta close out this masterpiece of an episode with the breakdown of ep 4's final glorious moments. 👌🏽😇

The fact that we were really spoiled from literally minute one to the final seconds of Episode 4 - I have to thank Danai one million times for writing this thoughtful Richonne love letter episode and forever thank Andy & Danai for performing every part impeccably 🙏🏽💐...

After deciding to go home together in such a well-earned way—which, that's another thing - the fact that Danai didn’t even need an extended episode to convincingly craft an arc where Richonne could start off more at odds than they’ve ever been, and then not just beautifully, but also believably and organically, bring them back together by the end, leaving them feeling more bonded than ever before. She’s an illustrious talent. 🤩

So now Richonne is ready to head out because this building is on its last legs. And as they walk, Rick is finally out of the CRM gear and in casual apparel for the first time with Michonne. And I loved seeing that. The hold the CRM had on him is finally removed. 😌

The temp controller announces another malfunction and says the elevator only has ten minutes of reserve power left. Which hearing that...it’s wild Rick and Michonne still used that elevator…even tho I’m glad they did. 😏

As they make their way to the door, they stop for a moment and I love the way it’s filmed with us being able to see them between the panels. Rick gets his blade ready and then he looks at the real source of his strength Michonne.

And then you already know I absolutely adore that Rick leans in for them to share a kiss before they head out of this place. It’s the sweetest thing. 🥰And it immediately lets you know Richonne really is back.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

That kiss is pure gold and highly ranked for me, y'all. Like as quick as this moment is, it’s still so special and romantic. I appreciate any and every reminder that Rick and Michonne are each other's baby and that kiss was definitely giving that.

Also, I just have to reiterate that Danai wrote such a quality episode of television. I love how at the top of the ep we see Michonne first exit the apartment alone and in pain, and then later Rick exits the apartment alone and panicked, and then at the end they show Richonne leaving the apartment together and healed because they’re finally operating like the honest unit they’re meant to be.

And again, it’s impressive how earned it all feels with Richonne starting the ep more at odds than ever and then truly being on one accord and one being again by the end of the hour.

It's sweet that as they’re about to re-enter the walker-infested world they want this reassuring and comforting moment of connection as this kiss just communicates that they’re in it together no matter what they face outside these walls.

Then he whispers ready and she nods and Rick opens the door for Michonne to go through first. Bye, Apartment 👋🏽, you were very very good to us, chile. But now it’s time for Richonne to go home. Won’t He do it. 🙌🏽

So then once they enter the hall they have one of my favorite action sequences. I love the way it's choreographed for them to be so in sync through this whole thing. This action sequence said let us remind you who are the two baddest to ever do it. 😌

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

I love the way it really is like they’re killing these walkers as one in the way they’re tag-teaming. Michonne steps out the hall first but then Rick is ready to get the first one and then they just take them down like only they can and it’s a great sight.

And Rick loves the sight of Richonne in action too the way he takes a moment to look at Michonne as they walk forward. I love that it's always clear Rick is invigorated by the fact that he and Michonne are a power couple. And again, the merging of the red and blue light as it comes together to make purple is great and gives TOWL a fresh different vibe than TWD. Seeing Richonne walk in the purple light just feels like they too have blended back into one again. 😌

gif cred: @nerd4music

And then that elevator...😏

Y’all, let me express some gratitude for this elevator right here. It gave us some absolute gold, honey. 😇

gif cred: @nerd4music

They approach the elevator and work together to get a walker out of the way. And then once they enter, Rick kicks the walker's arm, and Michonne, serving with her stance, realizes hey we have some time while this elevator goes down so naturally she looks over at Rick with that 'my man, my man, my man' look.

Then Michonne grabs the strap of Rick's backpack and pulls her into him and we can see him rushing into her just as the blood-stained elevator doors close. I love it. 😋 Look at frisky Michonne wanting a piece of her man right now lol. 🤭 Who can blame her?

gif cred: @msanonships

And when I first watched I thought that was gonna be it. Like they were just going to imply that they make out in the elevator. But no being a Richonne stan means being hella spoiled and so we actually get to see this all play out. 😊

They cut to Richonne making out inside the elevator and it’s just so good.❤️‍🔥 Also, it's funny how you’d never guess that Michonne was the one who initiated this the way Rick so quickly matches the energy and throws her against that wall. Rick can't quite be outhungered when it comes to Richonne kisses lol.

Like Michonne's always on the same page with that intense immense love but Rick's always going to be the more extra one by a little bit. Here for it. 😋

gif cred: @nerd4music

They were real into it in that elevator and had themselves another moanversation. I love that they are always on the same timing and both crazy enough to be so unconcerned with the fact that this building is about to come toppling down. Like they are just passionately present in this hot moment and it’s great. 👌🏽😋

Richonne are really and truly irresistible to each other and I love how their desire is always on display. And you can just tell Michonne loves Rick’s assertive affection as he practically consumes her and she slides her finger down his face. And as for Rick...he's addicted to his wife in the best way. 😊

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

Also, I always like seeing that “Failure is never an option” sign because I be needing that reminder in life and also it just feels like a thesis statement or something as to why Richonne is always able to win. When they refuse to fantasize about failing they always come out on top together. 👌🏽

So they manage to pull themselves off each other enough to run and kill more walkers and make it out of the building as they make a run for the vehicle. I remember in 2023 there were those set pics from this outdoor running moment and it felt so nice to now get to see what that all was from. Little did we know it was filmed for the greatest Richonne episode of all time. 🤩

gif cred: @nerd4music

With Richonne outside we continue to get insight into the destruction going on inside the apartment, including the death of the temp controller I believe. RIP, to the narrator of Richonne's ep 4 journey. 

And then Richonne make it to that yellow truck and let me tell you Richonne + cars is undefeated. 👌🏽 It’s always going to make for a golden moment and this one here of course is no exception. 😏

They run into the car and I adore the detail of Rick holding that book that Michonne said Judith would love. A whole FATHER. 😭🙌🏽 And this just goes to show that everything Michonne said to Rick when he had those walls up at the top of the ep was absolutely resonating with him even if he wasn’t fully letting on at first.

I mean, Rick always hangs on Michonne’s every word so of course everything she said stuck, especially about their children. (Also, it just hit me that that’s likely part of why Rick was thinking about getting a gift for RJ in the next episode since he knew they’re bringing the book as a gift for their daughter. 🥲)

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

So they get in the car but then Rick realizes there’s a slight complication as he tells Michonne it’s a “Stick shift.” I love the way Michonne looks at him and smiles when she realizes that means her little amputee cutie won't be able to drive this particular vehicle.

And y’all, since she has to drive that means Rick and Michonne have to switch seats. 😏 It's great how even a car being a stick shift can lead to Richonne gold, because this next moment is top tier. 🤩 Richonne stans, we ate good with TOWL, honey. 😇 Practically every second in this miniseries is rooted in Richonne’s romance. 🙌🏽

Also, I heard it was the episode's director Michael Slovis who had the idea for this next golden part, and I gotta take a moment to give Slovis his tens too. He did an outstanding job directing this Richonne love letter episode. 👏🏽💐

gif cred: @taiturner

So Rick and Michonne have to switch seats and they’re not gonna just get out of the car and do that - no, instead they attempt to just quickly climb over each other but, I’ve said it once I’ll say it 1000 times…Richonne are magnets. 🧲 So of course they couldn’t be that close to each other and not just start going to town again and making out. I love our hungry little couple that stays starving for each other. 😋

gif cred: @nat111love

When Michonne is on top of him you can see the determination on Rick’s face to turn this into something lol. And of course she’s on the same timing as they start making out. Like this building is really going to fall in mere seconds and they don’t give a damn. 🤭

They’re so happily distracted by their love and I’m here for it. They said that whole ‘love on each other as hard as we can while we can thing’ starts effective immediately. Also, only Richonne could make switching seats hot lol. 🔥

gif cred: @taiturner

Then it’s sweet to see the Roomba still going til it can’t go anymore. It’s resilient like Richonne. 

Also, it was really smart to put a sort of timer in the episode, and a high stakes timer at that, with the fact that the ep took place in a building on the verge of collapse. It's symbolic of how Richonne had to come the closest they’ve ever come to wondering if perhaps their relationship is on the verge of collapse as well. But of course like the Roomba that just won’t quit, they emerge from the building together and stronger. Richonne isn't the building, they’re the Roomba.

gif cred: @worldbeyondz

And then y’all. Y’ALL. You already know what I’m about to address. It is now wonderfully canon to know 🗣 MICHONNE CALLS RICK 'BABY.'

gif cred: @nat111love

I know I was previously in the camp that heard Michonne call Rick 'baby' earlier in the bedroom scene but that one I didn't hear on my first watch. This 'baby' right here in this blessed yellow truck tho - undeniably clear. And so great. 🤩

They cut to the two still making out like it’s the only thing on the agenda, but then Michonne knows that it actually is coming down to the wire with the building about to fall. So she whispers to Rick, “Baby, I gotta drive.” 🫠🤩🫠🤩🫠🤩

From “You want to drive?” to “Baby, I gotta drive.” What a journey. 😭🎁

I didn’t know how much I needed to hear Michonne call Rick 'baby' but when I heard it I was like oh I’ve needed to hear this all my life lol.

So y’all, can I happy dance one time? Because hearing Michonne call Rick 'baby' makes me ridiculously happy. 😋

Now whenever I see any pre-canon TWD moments between Rick and Michonne I just stop and think wow one day she’ll call that man her baby. 😭 Like that’ll just be their norm because the way she says it and the way he responds, it’s clear he’s used to that. It’s so sweet and fitting. 🥰

I know we often like to wonder about Richonne pet names and I think it’s so cute that she calls Rick baby because really that is her baby. When I first heard this, y'all, I rewound it so much to make sure I didn't just imagine it lol. It was perfect. 😇

(Also since this kissing moment wasn't scripted and it was something Slovis suggested they do while filming, I'm assuming that would mean the 'baby, i gotta drive' was improvised as well. If so, I love that these talented creatives know just what to do and say with these characters 🙌🏽😊)

And I love that Michonne has to remind him that she has to drive because if she didn’t Rick would have been down to make RJ #2 up in that car. Like he’s lost in her yet again while their making out and of course, the moaning has returned. The man can’t help it. 😊

This whole lovely kissing moment further proves that for Rick the world can wait when he’s with Michonne. And the way Michonne says the line you can tell that the only reason she’s stopping is cuz they literally need to go. If they didn’t have to book it out of here right now…she’d be down for whatever too. You already know. 😋

gif cred: @worldbeyondz

I love how Richonne’s favorite thing is kissing each other breathlessly and how they prove time and time again that the magnet thing might as well be literal. Also, the fact that they kiss during every phase of this exit - at the apartment door, in the elevator, and in the car. Real lovers are back. 😍

And they are never beating the adrenaline kink allegations, y’all. But I love how they, like us, are very cognizant of the fact that Richonne in fight mode is a sexy thing. 

And then I love that after she tells him 'Baby I gotta drive' they both laugh a little knowing how easily they get caught up. And then Rick is so refreshingly looser and more himself as he says, “Right. They made a stick shift electric car” and then he looks back and sees they left tanks of ethanol in the backseat.

gif cred: @taiturner

Let me repeat - The universe is a Richonner. 😋 The second Richonne got it together the universe was like here we’ll provide the fuel (and the food 🍜😉) and all the logistics.

I love how they both get excited learning the car is a hybrid. It reminds me when they were excited about those MREs in Say Yes. 

So then Michonne notes how they have to thank the innovators for the hybrid and how those people clearly thought they could do anything and Rick says, “Yep but we can. ‘We can make this whole world ours if we want to.’” Do you know how much of a loverboy you have to be to quote your wife’s words from a DREAM? 🫠 Most swoon-worthy thing ever and I’m so here for it. 🙌🏽

gif cred: @machonnes

I love that Rick is back to believing in Richonne. 🥰 Also I always laugh when I think back to when I first watched this because I remember just being like 'Aw he’s quoting her from the proposal dream ☺️' and then I gasped and was like 'oh that is a clear sign that he’s going to give her a ring in TOWL 🫢.' Like Rick quoting Dream Michonne in this car made me know for sure a wedding ring was coming cuz he's thinking about that particular '5 Pizzas & a Wedding Ring' dream. 👌🏽

I love seeing playful Rick again and Michonne brings that out of him so often and so naturally. And Michonne’s reaction is great when she looks at him like 'I agree but also...what??' I love that she affirms it tho saying, “Yes we can. That sounds like something I’d say.”

gif cred: @machonnes

And then Rick all contently says, “It is.” Y'all, i'm crying. 🥹 What a touching, lighthearted, and meaningful way to close out this episode's dialogue. 👏🏽

I love that Michonne knows she’d say that phrase and that Rick knows it full well too. He’s like baby, my dreams of you are extremely accurate, trust me. And the way he studies that woman of course they are. 😊

It’s just so special that those dreams at one point were all Rick really had of her and now here he gets to refer to them with the woman herself after she’s loved him back to life.

gif cred: @taiturner

As they get the car going there’s a little jump scare when a walker hits Rick’s window, and seeing them both jump and then be like okay let’s go - if they got any cuter my heart would not be able to take it lol. And the fact that Andy improvised that jumpscare reaction. Love it.

Rick and Michonne were just so back. Like they’re back to being the Richonne that’s playful, and flirty, and fully connected. A clear weight has been lifted off them and they're so in tune with each other again and it fills my heart with joy. 🥰

They drive and then it feels very poetic to see the building finally fall. I love the way Danai described the building as a cocoon that would determine if Richonne really can come out butterflies. And they soared out beautifully. 😭🦋

It also feels very symbolic of the way the walls Richonne had up around their hearts at the start of the episode have also officially fallen as they're back to being one in every way.

So having served its purpose of helping Richonne reconnect and bloom, the building could now come down. It’s almost like all the hard things they expressed and went through get to tumble down with the building as they head into a brighter horizon.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Having made it out just in time, Michonne watches the building fall from the rearview mirror and just smiles knowing she and Rick are finally back on track and on their way home like she's long been wanting.

gif cred: @machonnes

Then as Michonne smiles she has this loving look over to Rick and of course he’s already looking her way. 🥰 I love how his look over at her was such a loud and clear 'I love you.'

You just know that as he looks at her he knows he’s gonna be getting down on one knee with a ring the second he has a chance.

gif cred: @machonnes

And then the way he looks down with a smile. 😭 At this moment I really think ‘I’m so in love with her’ is the direct quote from his mind. That and “How’d I get so lucky finding you again.” 

gif cred: @machonnes

And Michonne can feel the love as she has her own 'I love you' smile at Rick and looks forward. That's the smile of a woman who knows good things can happen when you and your husband take a plunge out of a helicopter. 👌🏽

That’s also the smile of a writer who just knocked it all the way out of the park writing this brilliant episode. 🔥👏🏽

gif cred: @machonnes

And a surefire way to make me happy is to see Richonne happy, so I absolutely adore that this stunning episode ends with Richonne’s smiles. They’re together. They’re happy. They’re in love. All is well. 😌

As they drive off, I adore the Asibe Happy song they use. I love that it feels like a homage to Danai to have it be music from the motherland. And just the lyrics are so fitting saying We're happy/We're in love/They tried to come between us but they failed. The vibe is so different from TWD in a really cool way and it’s just a great choice. 👌🏽

It’s funny tho because my extra self had this song stuck in my head for a few days after the episode aired and despite it having a positive vibe I could not stop getting choked up when hearing it. 🥲 Like now for me the song represents Richonne overcoming and driving off into the sunset and it’s so beautiful and feels so much like a happily ever after ending that the music was constantly making me want to shed tears. 

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

But while it could have easily felt like this was the end of the story and Richonne was driving off into the sunset for good as this masterful episode faded to black…we still weren’t done yet. 😌

TOWL still had two more episodes of Richonne gold to give us with some very wonderful developments in their relationship. 👌🏽

But before we head into the final two episodes of TOWL, let me just conclude the 'What We' posts by saying Wow. This is how you do a moving, meaningful, and masterful episode of television.

What Danai so thoughtfully created with this episode exceeded expectations and truly shined the brightest light on why Richonne is so very special. Why it’s my Roman Empire. Why it’s my favorite depiction of love of all time. 😍

Never have I written so much about one TV episode, but I knew I’d have to go all out for Episode 4 because it’s what this important experience deserves. Every emotion, every scene, every choice, was pure excellence. 👏🏽

Andy and Danai have some of their greatest performances ever and I love that this episode was so packed with riveting dialogue and so focused solely on the two fascinating characters of Rick and Michonne and their extremely compelling relationship. It really gave Andy and Danai the space to again solidify why they're the best in the business and why Richonne is the greatest TV couple of all. 👑

I’m so grateful to them for giving their all as the people who bring Richonne to life and to Danai for writing something so inspiring and exceptional. 🔥

I’ll thank her 1000 times for lovingly and diligently crafting a Richonne episode that is food for the soul and delves into love, pain, trauma, and triumph with such honesty, creativity, and care.

This franchise and fandom are so fortunate to have such an astronomically gifted actress and writer share her gifts this way. 💯

Episode 4 was immensely heartfelt, hot, humurous, healing and profoundly human. It'll stick with me forever. It's embedded in my heart and I wouldn’t have it any other way.🥹

It's not every day you get to see your favorite thing reach its peak of perfection but that's what this episode was for me - capturing the mesmerizing depth and beauty of Richonne at its absolute best. So I'll cherish this shining treasure of an episode always.👌🏽😌

[lousypotatoes]

What A Glorious Feeling

This chapter takes place after the pilot but before the first episode of the series.

Reader is a falcon demon, doesn't have a beak, wings drape over her kinda like Valentino's (i want him dead), reader has gray skin, usually wears a black tube top, black and white pinstripe pants, black boots, and has a daisy in her hair. Reader has the eyes and ears of a falcon and is also slightly cannibalistic.  Reader can summon any weapons at will and can move things with her mind, whenever she does this, her eyes glow red. Like Alastor, reader can also summon anything at will. If you had something else in mind for how the reader looks, you are more than welcome to imagine something different. 

I know Alastor is canonically aroace, but obviously, in this story he is not. Also, in this book, nobody knows the Radio Demon's name unless he decides to tell them. Sorry I should of said this earlier.

Song Recommendation:

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Present day...

"Ah Dustin," Y/N said, walking over to the man, who was cowering in the corner. "You broke our deal. You know what happens to people who don't keep their word with me, don't you?"

"Please," he begged. "Give me one more month I promise-"

"You said the exact same thing six months ago," she spat angrily, her wings unfolding. 

"I swear-thi-this is the last time," he stuttered. "I just need-"

She summoned red chains, that latched onto Dustin's neck. Tugging the chains over to him, she grabbed his face, digging her claws into his cheeks. He let out a yelp of pain. 

"The deal was that if I killed your pathetic wife, I'd get your soul, and you would get me what I needed from that idiot overlord who thinks he's the shit, just because he's a pimp!" Y/N snarled, digging her claws in harder, drawing blood. "I have been more then generous towards you, and this is how you repay me?"

"I'm trying!" he cried out, tears running down his face. "Please just don't kill me!"

She had a small frown on her face. "I should rip you apart limb by limb," she said, calmly but in a deadly voice. "But I'm not goin' to do that," She removed the chains from his neck and put him down. 

"Thank you so much Assassin," Dustin said, wiping the blood off his cheeks. "I swear I will-"

He never finished his sentence. As fast as lighting, she summoned an axe and chopped his head clean off. 

"Instead, I'll make this is as quick and painless for you," she giggled, licking off the blood from the axe. "I'll have to thank Carmilla for the angelic steel at the next overlord meeting."

Using the axe, Y/N chopped up his limbs and stuffed them in a trash bag she had brought with her. 

"Cannibal town here I come," she smiled once she was done.

"Knock, knock," she said, knocking at the parlor door. 

"Y/N!" Rosie exclaimed upon seeing you. "What are you doing here so soon?" 

"I brought you a little somethin' to snack on," Y/N said, holding up the trash bag. 

"Oh you spoil me so much, my dear," Rosie said, licking her lips. 

"Anything for my closest friend," Y/N said, handing her the trash bag. 

"This is the fifth one this month," Rosie said, opening up the bag. "Sinners know better than to break a deal with you."

"They'll never learn, Rosie," she giggled as she took a seat on the couch. "Did you see the news the other day?"

"The Princess sure does have her hopes up for this hotel," Rosie answered, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Tea, Y/N?"

"No thank you," Y/N answered. "Do you think anyone would actually check in to that hotel?" 

"Who knows at this point," Rosie said, sipping her tea. "But judging by how people reacted, I don't think it's going to work out," 

"Shame," Y/N said. "It's a good idea, if it's actually possible."

"Say Y/N," she said, setting her cup down. "A friend of mine just recently got back into town. He's staying at this hotel," 

"Oh yeah?" Y/N asked curiously. "Who is it?"

"The Radio Demon," she said simply. 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "He's been gone for seven years," she said. "Why on Earth would he return now? And why would he be stayin' at the Princess's hotel?"

"Satan knows," Rosie replied. "Y'know, you and him would really hit it off."

Y/N's eyebrow rose up. "Sorry my darlin'," she said, lightly chuckling. "The Radio Demon is most certainly not my type."

"You don't even know him," Rosie said, a slight frown on her face. 

"I don't need too," Y/N said curtly. "From what I know, he seems like a self-absorbed prick."

"Oh c'mon," Rosie nudged you. "The both of you have so much in common! You both like whiskey, you both like jazz, you both like killing people-"

"Why all of a sudden are you tryin' to play matchmaker?" Y/N interrupted. "And why The Radio Demon out of people?"

"Because you need to get out there!" Rosie said, smoothing out her dress. "Ever since I've known you, one of the main things you talk about is how in love you were when you were alive. What was his name again?" 

"His name was Alastor," she said, her heart hurting. "I've searched all of Hell Rosie. Either he's up in Heaven, or the Exorcists got to him."

"That's why I want you to meet him," Rosie said, patting Y/N's shoulder. "Please? Do it for little ol' me?" 

"I suppose so," she sighed. "I was already thinkin' about checkin' out the hotel anyway."

"Marvelous!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together "I promise, you won't regret it!"

Landing in front of the hotel, she knocked at the door, feeling nervous, her wings fluttered behind her. 

"I'm coming!" chirped a feminine voice from behind the door. 

Fiddling with the hem of her top, Y/N waited until the person opened up the door. 

 The princess herself opened the door. "Hello! And welcome to the Hazbin Hot-"

Upon seeing your face in the doorway, she immediately slammed the door shut. 

"Vaggie!" Charlie cried out. 

"What is it?" Vaggie asked, coming down the staircase. 

"The Assassin is at the door," Charlie panicked, pointing at the door. "What do we do?" 

"Really? Another fucking overlord?" Vaggie angrily said, walking over to the door. "I'll handle this."

The door opened up a second time. Instead of the princess, a girl with a large X over her eye appeared in the doorway. 

"What the hell do you want?" she asked suspiciously. 

"There's no need to be so hostile," Y/N said, putting up her hands. "I'm here to simply offer up my services."

"We don't need you to kill anyone,"

"Not those kinds of services," she laughed. "I want to help with your hotel."

"Thanks, but we already have an overlord helping us," Vaggie said, eyeing her up and down. 

"The Radio Demon, yes I know," she said, crossing her arms. "I still want to help,"

As Vaggie was about to close the door, Charlie popped up beside her. 

"Wait Vaggie, we could use her help," she said, smiling. "With two overlords helping us, we can get a lot more done!" 

"You have a point," Vaggie grumbled. "But I'm keeping my eye on you," 

Charlie beckoned you to come in. "Thank you, Princess Morningstar," Y/N said, stepping inside.

"Oh please, just call me Charlie," she waved off. "This is Vaggie," she gestured to the girl with the X.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both,"

"Thank you!" Charlie gushed. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel-er-"

"Y/N," she said. "My name is Y/N."

"Right! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel Y/N! Would you like a tour?"

"Of course,"

"Why does the bar look like that?" Y/N asked after the tour was over. 

"Someone blew it up a few days ago," Charlie said simply. "Our facility manager fixed it up so it's nothing to worry about!" 

"Oh-uh-" Y/N didn't know was to say. "I'm glad it's all fixed."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "I have to introduce you to everyone! C'mon!" Charlie grabbed her arm and dragged her away. 

"This is Nifty, our maid," she said gesturing to the small demon, cleaning the floor. "Nifty, this is Y/N, she'll be staying with us 

Nifty turned around and her eye widened and she smiled in a scary way. 

"Ooooo! I've never seen a bad girl before!" she said menacingly as she crawled up on you. "Do you want to punish some bad boys with me?"

"Just give me the time and place, sweetie," Y/N said, putting Nifty down. Nifty quicky ran off.

"She's mostly harmless," Charlie said nervously. "Just don't let her bite you."

"I'll keep that in mind," she laughed. 

"This is Husk, our bartender," she said gleefully. 

Husk was drinking from a bottle, he nodded at Y/N but didn't say anything. 

"It's nice to meet you, Husk," she said politely. 

Husk recognized her at second glance, almost spitting out his booze, he decided not to say anything about it, though. 

"Oooooo heya Y/N~" said a voice. 

Y/N turned around and grinned. "It's nice to see you again Angel Dust,"

"Ohhh it's nice to see you too baby~" he said seductively. 

"Oh that's wonderful!" Charlie exclaimed, her eyes sparkilng. "You two know each other!"

"Yeah, we met at a party a while back," Y/N explained. "He kept wantin' to look at a sword that I had just got."

"Y'know babycakes," Angel said, walking over to her. "I could show you my sword, if you want~"

"Another time, Angel," Y/N laughed, Charlie laughed awkwardly with her. 

"Well, I think that's it!" Charlie said, clapping her hands together. "I'll show you to your room and if there's anything you need, just-"

"Oh, we have a new guest?  Heavens, why didn't anyone tell me?" said a staticky voice. 

Y/N turned and saw the infamous Radio Demon standing right behind her. Upon closer inspection, there was a look in his eyes that seemed familiar. 

Too familiar. 

Y/N had loved looking into those eyes, it had brought comfort to her. 

"Oh my gosh! How could I forget!" Charlie said. "Y/N is going to be helping us around the hotel just like you!" 

At the mention of her name, something pulled at Alastor's heartstrings. 

"Well, we need all the help we can get, that's for certain," Alastor laughed.

That laugh, Y/N had imagined it every single day when she arrived in Hell.

"Y/N, this is our facility mana-"

"Alastor?"

Her voice, it sounded like an angel. Alastor remembered the first time he heard it. Everything clicked into place for the both of them.

"Y/N?"

Sorry if all the characters are a little ooc. I need to rewatch the show lmao. 

THERES AN ECLIPSE TODAY!!!

stay safe out there you little rascals <33

xoxo, Izzy

[heartofjasmina]

Glorious

for @medusashima 's Live Deliciously collab <3

::

Toshinori always feels a twinge of embarrassment when he comes to your place. Your “place” being a hole drilled into the wall of one of the stalls of your buildings bathrooms, owned by David Shield. Dave was the first one to recommend you to him, simply calling you Zara, and saying she was the best at giving head.

“You mean she’s really good?” Toshi had asked, confused by the statement.

“No, buddy, I mean she’s the best. The best blowjob you’ll ever have.” Dave had hearts in his eyes as he spoke, and knowing how touched starved the scientist was (something they shared) made him hopeful.

He’d first stopped by in between missions. The only way he could get off with his amount of stamina and his size was with another person, as the collection of broken pocket pussies could show. The first time he’d felt you take his entire length down your throat he’d cum right then and there. You hadn’t gagged once and swallowed his seed with such hunger and need it made him hard all over again. When he collected himself, panting and heaving from the force of his orgasm, you pulled yourself off him with a lewd ‘pop’ that made him shiver. “Come back anytime, big guy. Your dick is a fucking masterpiece.”

Your voice was husky and low, probably from all the throat fuckings you’d taken throughout the night. It made him both aroused— and jealous if he was being honest with himself.

He was hooked.

He’d wake up from wet dreams of what it must be like to give you full access to his balls as well as his dick and after every mission he couldn’t but wonder, were you thinking of him the way he was thinking about you? More often than not he talked himself into making a “quick” stop at your place.

It became his only source of touch, beside the occasional one night stand with Dave where his friends ass swallowed his cock with an eagerness matched only by the man himself. As the number one hero, too many people assumed he didn’t need anything. No comforting pats on the back after hard missions. No hugs except from fans who were trying to cop a feel. Nothing. And he craved it. He craved touch so badly he felt suffocated by it sometimes.

One morning after a particularly depserate night with Dave he asked his friend as he was making them breakfast, “How did you meet her?”

“Zara?” Dave was looking through some notes on his current tech development and continued to answer without looking up. “She was a tenant, single, just wanted some company. But when I tried to date her, she refused. She said she had no need for a man beyond the occasional really nice dick to suck. Apparently it gets her off like nothing else. After a while she said she’d even suck a friend of mine if their dick was worth it.”

“Huh, and your first thought was me?” A sly smile was on his lips as he looked over his shoulder, and Dave grinned back.

“After having it inside me? Fuck yes. It would be selfish not to share you with a fellow size queen.” As if the answer was obvious, and that made Toshinori laugh so hard he burned the first of the pankcakes.

::

“Hey there big guy, long time no see.” He could see you smile through the hole, suddenly curious what your face looked like. Your lips were full and glistening with lipgloss that smelled faintly of vanilla.

But then you took his cock into your mouth and all ability to analyze melted away. You sucked him sloppy, moaning without a hint of shame, and with his super hearing he could easily detect the squelch of you fucking yourself.

“Dave said it gets you off, sucking dick.” It was the first time he had spoken when he was getting head from you, and he could feel you pause in fingering yourself.

“Name?” You pulled off his dick briefly, stopping the motion of your fingers inside you to ask your question breathleslly.

“Toshinori.” It came out as a whisper, and for the first time in a while he wondered when the last time was that he had someone to ask him his name.

“Toshi, then. When a dick is as pretty as yours, having it in my mouth is the most erotic thing. I love everything about it. The power in knowing I can make you weak in the knees with just my mouth, swallowing cum that proves I have you wrapped around my finger… Yeah. Sucking dick gets me off big time.” You breathed out and tapped the hole. “Now give me that beautiful dick of yours. I’m not done.”

“Yes, Zara.” He answered so sincerely it made your pussy ache to be filled with the dick in front of you.

Once more his glorious dick was fed through the hole, and you were once again in awe of just how perfect it was. Thick and flushed pink with shaved balls and a little tuft of blonde hair at its base.

You took your time the second time around, kissing his shaft’s head and licking up the precum that leaked from the slit. It made you smile on the inside to hear his breathing grow more and more uneven, the way you could see his thighs trembling slightly.

Only then did you take his full length down your throat again.

“Fuck me, my throat.” You whined as you stuffed your fingers inside your cunt again, the burning need for him only growing. “Need it— fuck I want it.”

Toshinori was beyond happy to give you what you needed, starting to fuck himself into your beautiful goddamn throat. It was better than any pussy he’d ever been inside. It only made him wonder what your pussy must be like, what you must be like.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum,” he warned as you took him all the way down and tongued his balls at the same time.

You hummed in approval and made no move to stop sucking him as usual, waiting patiently like the good girl you were for your treat.

The thing about Toshi’s loads is that they overwhelmed you. You had to scramble to swallow fast enough to take in the sheer amount of semen he dumped down your throat.

When he pulled out of your mouth you gasped for air, but you also felt your orgasm wash over you as you whined and slumped against the wall.

“That’s it, make your sweet little pussy feel good.” Toshinori couldn’t help but encourage you through it, wishing to hell there wasn’t a wall between you.

“Fuck, Toshi,” and damned if his name sounded better from your lips than anyone else. You finally let yourself relax only to be surprised by one last request.

“Let me taste.” You froze, questioning his seriousness, but then you saw his mouth opening like you always do for him.

Cunt burning, you stood and fed him your fingers drenched in your juices. His tongue greedily sought out every drop of your essence, sucking and licking your fingers clean.

FInally when he’d had his fill he pulled off your fingers, kissing your fingertips before standing and adjusting his pants.

“Until next time, Zara.” He murmured and you smiled to yourself.

“Till next time, Toshi.”

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Tease me

A/N: Here we are. First entry of the Fandom free bingo! @fandom-free-bingo I mean, I said no more actor AU but look at me now! Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Actor! Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff.

Word count: 1k

Square filled: “Did I do that? I’m so sorry…” & Orgasm denial

Fandom Free Bingo Masterlist

.

“We’re ready for your next change, Mr. Stark.” the assistant to the designer nodded towards the changing rooms, pulling Tony’s attention away from the monitor that displayed his last shot while the photographer laughing heartily at his quips.

You were sitting in a corner on a plush lounge chair, sipping coffee and watching the photoshoot that your boyfriend was absolutely nailing. You found it endearing how after every shot he’d run to the monitor and then glance back at you for approval, not that he needed it, the man slayed in every look that the designer had envisioned for the day.

Throwing you a wink over his shoulder, Tony trotted back into the changing rooms, leaving you to stare at his glorious butt that looked extra cute in those pants he was wearing. You had an idea pop in your mind in the morning, a naughty one that suggested you could have your sweet revenge over last night’s activities.

“You’re close, aren’t you hon?”

Tony’s honey-dripping whisper brought you back from the edge you were almost tipping on, his fingers still curled inside your throbbing heat. A whine left your lips, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes at this point. He had been edging you for what felt like hours, pushing you back to square one as you got to the brink of your orgasm. All for a silly bet, which at this point you were regretting agreeing to.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“Yes! I am close, I am so fucking close, Tony! Please!” you didn’t care how desperate you sounded, you needed your release, it was driving you crazy having your entire body light up with desire and carnal passion only to have it snatched away.

Clicking his tongue, Tony’s smile was evident as he kissed your neck, clearly reveling in your defeat. If only your hands weren’t tied, you thought. Removing his fingers from your slick heat, he licked them clean before untying the knot that held your hands above your head, caressing your wrists gently.

“I thought I’d have some competition, didn’t think you’d give up so soon.” he hummed, covering you with the sheets before kissing your forehead softly, adding to your frustration.

“Got an early day tomorrow, honey. You know that photoshoot? I should get my beauty sleep.”

Tony pulled you against his chest with a self-satisfying grin, wedging a leg between yours as you tried to get some friction against your pulsing clit.

“You know the rules, Y/N. If you touch yourself, I’ll know.”

“I hate you, Stark.” you grumbled, kicking his feet with yours as he wiggled his toes against your skin.

“We’ll see about that.”

The door to the changing room was shut as you approached it, knocking on it lightly, you mimicked the voice of one of the assistants stating he’d forgotten some accessory. Smirking when his head popped through, you sneaked inside the tiny room and clicked it shut.

“Can I help you with something?”

Tony raised an eyebrow up at you, gauging your intentions as your eyes roamed down his semi-naked form. This man really was every bit gorgeous as he looked in all the pictures, the fact that he knew it only added to the sex appeal. His toned chest, taut muscles and happy trail was on display and you did nothing to stop your gaze from slipping southward.

You were on a mission, afterall. It was payback time.

Placing your hands on his torso, you gave him a push until his back was against a wall, that look of surprise turning darker when he realized your intentions. Palming his clothed, soft cock, you earned a soft grunt from the man before you silenced any upcoming protests by kissing him.

“Okay, but you gotta make it quick. There’s quite a few people waiting for me outside.” Tony mumbled against your lips.

“Let them wait, I don’t care.”

“Oh? Someone’s being a brat today. Are you riled up from last night, honey?” he smirked as his cock twitched under your hand.

The audacity.

Giving him one last look, you sunk to your knees and peeled his underwear down, his half mast length staring back at you. He let out another breath he was holding as you wrapped your fingers around him, giving him a few lazy strokes before your mouth replaced it. His veiny length twitched inside your velvety mouth, standing erect as you went along with your ministrations. The salty precum made its presence known at the back of your tongue while you fondled his balls, knowing it drove him nuts every time.

It always gave you a sense of power when you had this man at your mercy. Tony was the perfect switch in bed, there were times when he had you under him, obeying his every command and getting rewarded for it and then there times when he was a complete sub, eager almost desperate for your touch.

You felt him thrust into your mouth, his hand gripping your hair firmly as his thigh muscles tensed, indicating he was getting close. That was the point you let him go, his saliva coated cock left abandoned as you stood up.

“Hey!”

You pulled his boxers back up, buttoning his pants that were tailored to perfection for his next look, smirking at the obvious tent it formed.

“Did I do that? I’m so sorry…”

Your face hadn’t the faintest trace of remorse, he knew that, it was retribution for his actions. Helping him get dressed, you stifled a giggle as you pretended to fix his hair while Tony glared at you.

“You’re not sorry, you’re just–”

“Just what? Did you just meet your match, Anthony Stark?” you laughed as he shook his head, putting on some of the accessories laid out on the table.

That he had, he knew that. There was nobody like you, you were perfect in his eyes.

Cracking the door back open, he called for his assistant, you had to crane your neck to listen to what he was saying.

“I think it would be better if we had one of the chair shots set up now? Make it happen.”

He threw you the finger behind his back while you giggled some more.

[dearsnow]

THE LAST TIME

- ten out of the countless times you have seen neil perry, and nine where you saw him alive. (neil perry x gn! implied to be shy reader, fluff to angst, canon-typical main character death, major spoilers for dps but i assume you’ve watched it before, i included my own poetry so i hope y’all like it, sad face emoji i teared up while writing this).

word count: 9,006

a/n - thank you so so much to my beta readers @sorencd and @chuudidit for reading this massive piece, i appreciate you endlessly <3 this was definitely a labor of love, one that i took a considerable amount of time to write and edit. i adore dead poets society and poetry in general (i have written 130+ poems and never plan on stopping) so i definitely needed to put my thoughts into words lol 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy, because i definitely enjoyed writing this for you.

When Neil Perry first saw you, and god, did he see you, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

You were simply sitting there under the old tree just outside the borders of Welton with a book under your nose and the soft rays of a flashlight filtering through your hair. You had one knee up, holding the book in a gentle balancing act as he stared. Charlie gave him a nudge, eyebrows raised and a tease on the tip of his tongue, but Neil couldn’t even move. He was completely and utterly dumbstruck. The moon was hanging above your head, full and bright, drowning you in a poetic haze. You flipped a page and he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He thought he had never seen anything so beautiful before, and he had no idea why.

After a long minute, he peeled his gaze away from the figure under the tree and followed the other dead poets to their second ever meeting. From the corner of his eye, he swore he saw you glance up at him when he passed, but no one else seemed to notice.

When Neil and the poets were walking back to Welton, you weren’t there- something Neil noticed instantly. Of course, being who he was, Todd noticed that Neil noticed, and Charlie noticed that Todd noticed, and before he knew it, Neil and his fixation were the new tortured topics of the evening. 

“Oh, love at first sight! The most beautiful kind.” Charlie teased, clasping his hands and spinning around. “How romantic.”

Neil shook his head, trying desperately to clear his suspicions. “It’s not like that. I swear, it’s not even a crush. I just thought it was weird.”

Cameron chimed in with a slightly hushed tone. At least he was aware of the fact that they were quickly approaching the earshot of every single person in Welton Academy. “I wonder where they came from. I mean, it couldn’t have been comfortable or safe to be out here at night. Especially alone.”

“Same. What do you think they were reading?” Neil responded, quick to try and put the teasing behind him. Despite his efforts, the teasing carried long into the night and the days following it. It seemed like nothing and no one would ever let him forget he ever saw you.

He would find out later that you were reading a poetry book.

He saw you for the second time on a trip to the main town. He recognized you instantly, from what little knowledge of you he had gained. You had the same hair, the same stature, the same book tucked under your arm as you peered into the musty old bookstore in the back corner. Just Todd was with him this time, and he definitely knew what was up.

Todd glanced at him, a warm expression on his face. Once again, Neil was entranced.

In the new glorious daylight, he noticed things he never could’ve before. The undertones of your hair, your skin, the way you seemed to glow even when you dipped into the shadows. He saw the pure beauty of you in a manner he had never seen anyone else in before. He took a step forward, pulled towards you somehow as his heart beat a mile a minute. The bookstore loomed over you, cracked and imperfect, yet casting the evening in a scene plucked out of a storybook. You turned, seeming to have seen him in the window’s reflection, and he flinched. He almost had a heart attack as his brain registered the color of your eyes and exactly how your mouth pulled up into a smile. Quickly turning away, he grabbed Todd’s sleeve and hightailed it out of there. Todd followed, as he always did. Neil was enamored, and Todd could tell.

“Do you think they saw me?” Neil gasped, pulling Todd into the square’s corner. He was panting lightly, red-cheeked, with a lopsided grin on his face. Todd had never seen him nervous, much less shy. In fact, he was the opposite- friendly, inclusive, and not the type to run away from a challenge. Something must have been different about you.

Todd raised his eyebrows. “Probably, Neil, they looked back.” He, too, saw your eyes, though he was mostly focused on the anxiety coursing through his veins rather than committing them to memory.

Neil’s gasping breaths were definitely louder than they needed to be. “Oh god, they definitely saw me. They probably think I’m a creep. Jesus, it’s definitely over.”

“What’s over?” Todd put a hand on his shoulder worriedly. “There was nothing there to begin with. They’re just a person, you’ll be fine.”

“Way to kill my dreams, Todd. Look, can you promise me that you won’t tell this to anyone else?” Neil asked, suddenly very serious. He glanced around like someone would waltz into the trash-filled and truthfully disgusting corner. The bathrooms were just around the bend, and he could smell it.

Intrigued, Todd nodded.

“I need you to say it. Promise me.” Neil whispered. His coat crinkled as he moved closer to Todd, the material dipping around his sweater. The fall air was the perfect background for whatever Neil was trying to get up to.

“I promise.”

Neil grinned boyishly and glanced around the corner again. “This is stupid, but I think I’m in love.” From the look in his eyes, Todd could definitely tell. His friend was suddenly more animated than he had been in a very long while, and he knew that he would do anything to keep him that way. His caution, however, took over.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. What if you never see them again?”

“And what if I do?” Neil breathed. “What if I see them tomorrow, or the next day, or a week from now? What if I see them every day of my life because I just went out and said something?”

Todd shook his head. “Just be careful, alright? There’s a very good chance that nothing will come of it.” Neil clasped Todd’s jacket, quirking his eyebrows.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Just no.”

The first time you saw Neil Perry, you didn’t even know you saw him. You were sitting under a tree, reading an Emily Dickinson book you bought in the town’s bookstore. It was a way to relax to you. A way to forget all of your troubles and just enjoy the wonders of the world. You don’t know why you picked that tree, or why you stayed so long you had to use the flashlight you so hastily packed, but life has its ways of pulling you towards something you didn’t know existed.

The scenery was absolutely beautiful, even at night. You wrapped your thick coat tightly around your shoulders. The fall leaves beneath you gave a crackle and the moon hung high above your head, slightly illuminating your page. Welton Academy loomed just outside of your line of sight. It was beautiful, too, but something about the cold stone walls made you shiver.

As time slipped away, you began to hear a hushed cacophony of boys around your age coming out of the school to the side of you. They had their hoods up, laughing and giggling like they were in some sort of secret club. You looked up, and one of them stopped dead in his tracks. You could see his breaths clouding in the night as the others urged him forward. Your eyes drifted back down to your book, as if you were embarrassed. The moment broke, and he was on his way.

You weren’t there for his return back to Welton.

The second time you saw him, you noticed him a lot more clearly. You were window shopping just outside of the bookstore. Even though the building was dusty and marred, it smelled like home. It smelled like stories and adventures and comfort. You were a frequent visitor to this place, and one of the owner’s best customers. 

He often set up his new imports in the big, yellow-tinted window in front of you. As you gazed in, you noticed a face appear in the space next to you. You turned around partially, meeting his dark brown eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him.

It was an electric moment. His lips were slightly parted, and the gray clouds above him were engorged with unshed tears. You gaped at him, dumbfounded, as milliseconds ticked away like hours.

Before you knew it, he had sped away with his friend in tow. Huh, you hadn’t even noticed he had a friend. All you could think about was the fact that he looked familiar, and the fact that he was the most handsome boy you had ever had the pleasure of locking eyes with.

His stature reminded you of the boy by the tree, the boy from Welton Academy. There was just something about him that screamed “you saw him once in a dream”.

Somehow, you thought one simple thought: you were in love with someone you did not know.

When Neil saw you for the third time, and the third time you saw him, he worked up the courage to talk to you.

Mr. Keating was instructing the boys outside yet again. They were in the courtyard, taking inspiration from the world around them. From leaves, patches of mud, anything that struck their fancy. 

You were taking a walk by campus. Once again, you didn’t know why; you just were. The boys were not a quiet group, and you could hear their shouts very clearly. You strained your ears, hoping to hear one voice in particular. Of course, you didn’t know what his voice sounded like, but you were listening anyway. If you were right, and he was a boy from Welton, maybe you might be able to catch a word or two.

That’s when Neil spotted the person walking loops around the front of campus. Maybe, for the first time, you could be his inspiration.

He looked over his shoulder, quickly trying to assess whether he could slip away unnoticed or not. No one seemed to be looking at him. He left his group behind and jogged up next to you.

You saw him coming. Even from a distance, you knew it was him. Your heart began to pound in your ears, loud and fast and just a little bit lovesick. You were right.

“Hey!” He exclaimed. You took a small step back. Your nerves were on their highest setting and your mind was reeling. What did he think of you, you wondered. More importantly, who was he?

As he approached, you put on your best nervous smile. “Hi.”

“My name’s Neil.” He said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. You complied quickly, saying your own name in turn. His palms were slightly damp, but you couldn’t blame him. Yours were probably worse.

The moment your hand held his, fitting perfectly under his fingers, he knew you were made for him. “I saw you in town the other day. Do you like books?” 

Your voice was hesitant, unsure, and Neil wished he could reach out and smooth the wrinkles in the sound like an old coat. “Yeah.”

“What were you reading?” Neil asked. He tried to stamp down his own nerves, but something about you made his breaths flutter in and out like butterfly wings. It was a feeling he was completely and entirely new to.

You shifted the bag on your shoulder to your hands, reaching in to pull out the book. “Oh, Poems by Emily Dickinson. It’s not the traditional type of book, but I love poetry.” Your cheeks began to warm. You knew nothing about this boy. What if he thought poetry was stupid, just a lesson in his English class and nothing else? How could anyone know how much those words meant to you?

Neil beamed, big and wide and lovesick. You truly were perfect for him, he thought. Poetry. You certainly were poetic, with those gorgeous eyes and an equally beautiful mind. “I love poetry too.” He breathed.

Your tense smile turned genuine. “You do? That’s awesome.” A quiet flutter started to pick up in your heart.

“Yeah. You know what?” He grinned, “my friends and I have a sort of poetry club. The dead poets society- we do readings, original works, whatever the members are feeling at the moment.” He sucked in a silent breath, pausing just enough to let his reeling mind decide on what he wanted to say. “It’s at night in the old Indian cave.” You nodded along to his words, growing increasingly intrigued the further he carried on. This dead poets society began to excite you. It was all you ever wanted in life: a community of like-minded people sharing the verses that made your heart tick. “If you want, I mean, you should go to our next meeting. It’s tonight.” Neil offered. He could tell his words were cycling through your mind, finally catching up to his proposal.

You wanted to join the dead poets society so badly it made your heart ache. A little inkling, though, in the back of your head, sparked a pit in your stomach. “Would your friends be okay with me being there? I… I don’t exactly know them.”

Neil was head over heels. You were so wonderfully lively, in the way that a breeze touching his eyelashes with the tips of its fingers would be. You were exactly how he expected, and exactly who he needed.

He waved away your concern with the flip of a hand and a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. The others bring guests too, and gosh, I’m sure they’re going to love you! Especially Todd. I’m sure you two would get along real well.” 

“Then I’ll definitely be there.” You replied. The sparkle in your eye shot Neil at full force. You were excited, smiling, happy. He made you happy. He mentally patted himself on the back.

“Great!” Leaves rustled from behind Neil, and you could see a group of boys approaching in the near distance. “Shoot. I gotta go, but make sure to show up. I’ll be waiting for you.” He whispered, leaning in closer to you before turning around to walk towards the group. You felt cold air where he had once been, and you wished for a moment that he would come back. His friends, however, were hooting and hollering, and you thought you could hear a kissy noise or two. You shook your head, a shaky warmth creeping its way up your neck, before turning to walk away.

You were going to go to a secret meeting in a secret cave at a hauntingly secret hour, and you had never been quite so excited in your entire life.

The fourth time you saw each other was the dead poets society meeting. You were brimming with nerves beforehand, shaking fingers gathering your materials as you tried to prepare for waltzing into a place with people entirely unknown to you. The bag you were holding contained a couple of your favorite poetry books, your own poems scratched in the empty spaces on certain pages that really inspired you. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to read a poem out loud, especially your own work, but earlier in the evening, you resolved to “go with the flow” and do what the others were doing. You hoped you wouldn’t have to regret that decision later.

After putting everything together and making sure to turn off your light and close your door, you slipped out of your house into the black night.

The scenery on your walk was entirely too beautiful. You never noticed just how much the bark on trees formed swirling patterns, or how the stars seemed to twinkle on their own. The ground under your feet was littered with fallen leaves in fiery shades and clumps of moist dirt. You began to smile just a little bit, thinking of a poem you had written when autumn had first started. That is surely what you would say if the dead poets wanted you to speak.

Nothing felt greater than breathing in the crisp, cold air and swinging your arms as you stepped along the path less traveled on. 

When you finally reached the cave, heart significantly lighter, the sound of laughter floated up to your ears. It was bountiful and boyish and beautiful. You peered around the edge of the cave entrance, and Neil’s eye immediately caught on you.

“Come in, come in! We’re just about to begin.” He called. You stepped fully into the light and glanced around at your company.

They were giggling and shoving, gaping at you and Neil with a sort of uncertain certainty. Some were standing, some sitting, a couple moving around, and all of them male. You took a seat next to Neil, between him and the boy you saw with him in town. He gave you a meaningful nod and looked to Neil, who was opening an old, thick book. He was frightened to so much as speak in front of you, as silly as it might have seemed.

“Attention, dead poets. Today is another wonderful night.” He announced, voice deep and commanding and humorously theatrical. “I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately… I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! To put to rout all that was not life… And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived…” His voice trailed off, and someone from the back of the cave echoed his last word. He closed the book with a snap, and the boys began to murmur excitedly.

Neil took a seat and turned to you, a glimmer of something sweet in his eye. When he looked at you, all he saw was magnificence. “Who wants to start?”

A boy jumped up. In his fist was a crumpled piece of paper, which he made a show of unfolding. “For those of you who don’t know,” He said, with a pointed glance at you, “my name is Nuwanda, and today, I actually made a poem.”

A couple boys yelled in support, and Neil gave you a nudge. “Charlie Dalton.” He whispered, making sure to not alert the others. You thanked him with a shy nod. Then, as “Nuwanda” was starting to begin his woefully homemade poem, Neil put his arm around your shoulders. 

His touch sent jitters through your entire body, lighting you up like a firework. It just felt so right, so natural, so breathtaking. It felt exactly like shaking his hand and feeling his eyes and seeing his breath hang in the air- like it was destined, written in the stars, utterly perfect. You leaned into his touch, feeling his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and shoulder. “To live, to learn, to die,

my boys, 

to see, to love, to burn. 

To touch, to know, to harm, 

my dear,

to eat, to reap, to sow.” 

Charlie recited. For someone who seemingly took poetry lightly, he wasn’t particularly bad. He put more passion into his words than most other boys you knew. In fact, you’re sure he would be a great writer if he put more than an ounce of effort into it.

He took a bow as the room erupted into applause, Neil’s arm still wrapped around you. He could feel it too, the electricity. He wanted nothing more than to bottle that feeling and keep it forever.

Charlie sat, staring at you and Neil with a smirk on the corners of his lips. “Hey, why don’t we let our guest take a crack at it?”

The cave filled with a rumble of excitement from all of the poets. Neil’s brows were furrowed, but he gave an urge of support anyway. “If you want to, of course.”

You wanted to. Energy thrummed throughout your company, filling you with a sense of confidence you rarely had anywhere else. For once, you truly wanted to speak up. The air was crackling with a sense of anxious anticipation, and you could smell the love each boy held for each other. They knew, somehow, that the moment meant a lot to Neil, and they were willing to put aside any inhibitions to help him enjoy the night.

“I’ll go.” You uttered. Neil’s face lit up as his previous worries slunk away into the night.

You pulled out a book from your usual bag and opened it to the page you knew so well you could recite the poem it held without looking. And, of course, your own poem was scribbled in the margins. 

Everyone was attempting to peer over your shoulder, to take a glimpse of what made you a poet. Having attention on you was an odd feeling, like ants crawling along the back of your spine. You took a deep breath. “When you die,

the beetles will still sing.

The trout will still jump,

and the earth will still rumble.

When you die, the moon will still turn

and the stars will still burn.

When you die,

The lakes will still ripple

and the trees will still creak

and I will lower you into the ground

and I will cry so hard the world stops moving.”

As the last words left your lips, a profound silence enveloped the group. Then, all at once, it exploded.

“We’ve got a real poet in here!” Came Charlie’s teasing (yet not entirely unkind) voice. “Truly Keating material. What sparked your creative melancholy?”

You felt yourself glowing as you sat. If you were being honest, you never could have imagined that anyone would genuinely enjoy your work. That notion was entirely unfounded and untrue, considering they were a group of poets, but it persisted nonetheless. “I don’t know, really. Just the notion of losing a loved one, I suppose.”

When Neil saw you, in that moment, when he heard your voice, he couldn’t breathe. He knew so little about you, yet you pumped his pulse up to be as fast as a racehorse. He wanted, no, he needed to learn everything that made you you. He needed to know what you looked like when waking up in the morning, or how your fingers felt threading through his hair, or your deepest, most desperate passions. He needed to be so close to you he could feel your heartbeat through the fabric of your shirt. He was intrigued. 

When he first discovered acting, he felt the same exact way- a burning desire to learn, to know, to discover. If you let him, he would recite his lines all the way into your heart.

The meeting continued as the sky grew ever darker, complete with poems and rhymes and words spoken in deliberately lyrical tones. You fell into every verse and every story as easily as you would if they were written in a book. You began to learn every name in the room, and they quickly caught on to yours. It was a community, a group of people that began to feel like home. 

Of course, by the time they decided to end things, the stars were full and bright. The sun would surely peek its head out of the fog in a couple hours. You were smiling harder and more genuinely than you ever had before, with Neil by your side, and Todd on your other. As they all stood up to leave with boisterous whispers, Neil turned to you.

“Will you come tomorrow? And the next, and every day after that?” His question was so excited, so innocent, like he didn’t know that you would kill for the chance to be near him and everything he held dear.

You smiled. “Of course. I’ll be a dead poet for life.”

Your eighth encounter with Neil was not a lucky twist of fate. He got permission to leave school for some something or other that you never bothered to find out. Now, it was just you two and the big town square looming in front of you.

In truth, it wasn’t that big, but when you’re standing at the beginning of a new day with the boy that holds your heart, everything feels intense.

He took hold of the sleeve of your sweater, as he so often did, and you descended upon the shops.

“Come on, you’ve absolutely got to try the milkshakes at Tom’s Ice Cream Parlor! They’re just the best. Hurry, hurry!” He tugged you along, a bright smile on his face. God, how you loved him.

You had grown closer in the past five dead poets society meetings. Often, he would stay with you in the cave long after the meetings had ended. You would talk about whatever crossed your mind in the moment, and he would spin stories out of thin air. He didn’t ever seem to talk about real life things, though. His work at school, sure, but anything outside of that was uncharted territory. When you asked him about his family, he just clammed up.

You laughed as he weaved through the clumps of people with you in tow. “Slow down, Neil! You’re gonna get us killed.”

The sound of your voice, especially your laugh, was something Neil had come to relish. He would keep you talking all day if it meant he could hear that giddy ring in his ears every time he craved your presence. “You’ve just got to go faster. The line is horrific at this time of day.” 

“This place had better be good.”

“It is, believe me. It’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

When you arrived, bodies hot and just a little uncomfortably sweaty, the sight of the ice cream parlor was a welcome one. He led you through the doors and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. You wished you could do it for him. The line was, unsurprisingly, quite long. You made idle chat, but his words fell on deaf ears as you stared at him.

“…he was real impressed when Charlie played his sax. Mr. Nolan, though, he definitely wasn’t-“ And, before you could think about it, before the screaming in your head could tell you no, you reached up and smoothed the cowlick that always seemed to mess up his part. When you pulled your hand away, he was beaming.

“Thanks.” He said, simply. You smiled back at him.

“No problem. So, what happened to Charlie afterwards?” You questioned. Neil gave you a look, one you had come to realize meant “I’ll tell you later”.

As you stood three people away from the front counter, Neil fumbled around in his pockets. “Shoot, I could’ve sworn I brought more money than this…” He muttered. He pulled out a dime and three pennies, all slightly covered in the fuzz from his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry. I don’t know, I must’ve spaced out- I’m usually so good about things like this.”

You took his arm with one hand and slipped the other in your pocket, rooting around for any spare change you had. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I have more than enough.”

You did not, in fact, have more than enough. You had a single quarter and a spare button. Pooled together, you could get exactly one milkshake and have his three pennies left over. Neil looked at you regretfully.

“You take it. I’ll get one another time.” He said, putting on a smile. “I’ve had too many sweet things today anyways.”

You would not accept this as an answer. Not here, not now. He deserved all the good things life had to offer, and you would be damned if he didn’t get them- starting with this milkshake. “It’s alright, you have it.”

Neil looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. “You should have it, really.” He would be damned if you didn’t get what he dragged you out here to experience. If he could see your face, smiling and sticky-lipped, after taking a sip from something he contributed to, he would be the happiest man on earth. 

The back-and-forth was getting nowhere and you both knew it. “Why don’t we just share it then? Ask for two straws?” You sighed. “It’s the best solution.”

He paused. It wasn’t ideal, and it wasn’t the life he wanted to give you (if this was any indicator), but it would work. Everything would work as long as you were there. “Okay. Yeah, let’s do that.”

There was another quick conversation about which flavor to choose, but you settled on one that you both liked equal amounts. You discovered that he had far different tastes than you milkshake-wise. If you were any less filtered, you would’ve told him his opinions were downright wrong.

You sat with him, smiling so hard you thought your face would break as he finally told you what happened to Charlie. Apparently, Nolan had reprimanded him as he so often had to do, but Charlie couldn’t stop smiling during the lecture. Eventually, Nolan just stopped mid-sentence and ushered the boy out the door. Apparently nothing and no one could ever crush Charlie’s spirit, not even the hardships of wooden rulers.

You leaned in to take a sip absentmindedly. As you reached your straw, you felt the tip of Neil’s nose brush against yours, and you realized you were so close to him you were almost kissing. You pulled back quickly, a hotness enveloping your cheeks.

“Sorry.” You uttered, trying not to look him in the eye. You were so mortified you almost killed yourself on the spot.

Neil, however, was overjoyed. He felt your breath on his chin and it was all he could think about. You, close to him, like you would’ve touched him if you hadn’t pulled away. He relished the feeling.

He shrugged, trying in vain to make it seem like he was just simply all right with it. “It wasn’t a problem,” He said, before noticing that the milkshake was running dangerously low. “Hey, why don’t you take the last sip?”

You cocked your head slightly. “Why?”

“Because I never want to be the one to end it.” He grinned. You shook your head, the corners of your lips rising up as he let out a little laugh. You adored his laugh.

“If you say so.”

That conversation stuck with you a long time after it happened.

It took four more dead poets meetings for Neil to ask you to go somewhere with him again. By the twelfth experience, though, you knew him like the back of your hand.

He loved acting. Loved it. He loved it so desperately that he was willing to face the wrath of his father to pursue the play he was casted in. Oh, and you learned about his father through whispers, mostly from Charlie. Neil, he told you, would never say a word about him. Tyrannical, inhospitable, red-hot like fire and ice-cold like ice. You knew of his mother, too, and her quiet indifference. Neil held a special place in his heart for Todd, the new boy at Welton. He loved puppies and poetry and soft scarves. Not the scratchy ones, as those irritated his neck. He wanted to be an actor in the future, but his father wanted him to be a doctor. He loved so many things, and yet could not have them; however, he definitely hated when people felt sorry for him.

So, you weren’t sorry. You felt his desires like a burning in your gut, stripped away piece by piece, but you were not sorry. You loved him.

You needed him to be fulfilled in every way possible, and you were not sorry. He was going through so many conflicting things, and you were not sorry. You were hopeful.

Life would turn around, you told him. He would see. In ten years, he would be on Broadway, waving at you and Todd and Charlie from the stage. He would be great, and you knew it.

“I’ve never skated like this before. Are you sure it’s safe?” You asked, standing at the edge of Welton’s lake. It was late in fall, with powdery snow dusting the edges of the ground, but the lake may have been in the process of freezing still. Neil took your gloved hands.

“Trust me, it’s good.”

He often asked you to trust him, and you always did. There was just something in his deep, dark eyes that whispered exactly how strong he was.

You took a tentative step onto the ice, nose already feeling the cold burn of pre-winter air. The ground under your feet was slick, but it held. Neil walked backwards, gently guiding you, and you followed.

You found a sort of rhythm in the movements, pushing off with your feet and letting them slide forward on the ice. Neil’s face was tinged with red as you skated on flat shoes, never letting go of your hands. You laughed, truly and honestly. The world spun around you in a blur, white and brown and beautiful. The air snuck through the gaps on your clothes, but you did not care. In that second, it was just you and Neil and the most beautiful day you had ever known.

His eyes softened when he looked at you. Even through the lack of words, he knew exactly what you were thinking. That crinkle by your eyes, the curve of your lips, your laugh. You were content, happy even, because he brought you here. When you reached the middle of the lake, leaning against him, trusting him, he felt a fluttering in his stomach. 

Throughout his days with you, he had come to discover the person behind the book, behind the shy smile. He could firmly say that he knew you, and he loved you even more for it.

He knew your favorite book, which jokes made you laugh so hard tears formed in your eyes, your favorite ice cream flavor. It wasn’t his, but it was completely and entirely you. There was nothing he adored more in the world than you.

You stared at him with a smile gracing your lips as you came to a stop. He reached his hand up to your face and brushed a small snowflake away from the corner of your mouth gently. His hands were soft.

He leaned in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his face. It was now or never, he thought. Carpe diem.

Neil pressed his lips to yours, and all of your feelings exploded from your connected flesh like dynamite.

He was warm, so warm. You kissed him fervently with your arms wrapped around his shoulders like you were dancing. He had finally done it, put to action the kind thoughts he had expressed, and you were glowing. There were stars in your tightly shut eyes, and you reveled in how they spun.

Neil’s mind was racing as you didn’t pull away. He didn’t know what he expected, but you pulling him closer was not his first thought. He most definitely didn’t mind.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both panting feverishly and looking starved for more. Your combined breaths hung in front of your faces.

“We should do that again.” He whispered. You huffed a laugh, feeling every bit as blushy as he looked.

“Only if you’re okay with never stopping.”

It was a week and a half before Neil’s big play, and the twenty-fourth (maybe twenty-fifth, you had lost count) time you saw him. It was also your tenth official date.

“Date” may have been a loose term, as it was more practicing lines than talking, but the atmosphere was quiet and calm at the café you sat in. There were grainy pictures of favorite customers on the wall and the chairs were just the right amount of wobbly. It felt like a place where you could relax without abandon. Neil’s hand was on top of yours and he was staring deep into your eyes as he spoke line after line, trying to steel his nerves and push past the stress of his approaching deadline.

“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: and, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck…” He hesitated for a moment, eyes unfocused. You squeezed his hand in support and he gave you a small smile. Clearing his throat, he continued. “…now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the Puck a liar call; so, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” 

You gave a quiet cheer and clasped your hands together. “I think that was your best runthrough yet! I’m so proud of you.”

His eyes lit up as he gazed at you bashfully. “You think?”

“Absolutely. You’re good, you’re really good. You could probably perform tomorrow if you wanted to.” He smiled and ran his fingers over his fleece sleeves as you spoke. If you were in the audience, he was sure he would be able to do anything. “In fact, you could perform any time you wanted to. You’re just that amazing.”

You were so impressed by the sheer amount of talent and emotion he had that you just couldn’t help but smother him in compliments. Every single one was true.

Neil tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, blushing like a madman. Every time you said something kind about him, his heart leapt for joy. “What about you? What have you been working on?” He posed. He had heard your poetry before, of course, but you always seemed to be creating something new.

You pulled out a book from the bag sitting next to you and flipped around. There was one specific poem you wanted him to hear. One you had written about him.

When you found it, you turned the book sideways so you both could see and pointed at it. “This one.” Neil tilted his head, opening his mouth to read it aloud. “I think, 

if I was blind,

I would still know your face.

The curve of your nose would call to me

and your eyelids would flutter under my touch.

There is no one else, no one at all

who could make the pads of my fingers

see the entire world.”

He gazed up at you with a starstruck expression. “Is this about anyone in particular?” Neil leaned forward and dipped his head down to rest on his propped-up hand. He had a grin on his face. He absolutely knew who it was about.

“I wrote that one for Meeks. He’s just so cute, don’t you think?” You teased. Neil’s mouth dropped open as his expression turned to comical shock. 

“I’m wounded, my love! How dare you.” He shouted, throwing his arms up. You started laughing as he continued his theatrical expressions, much to the dismay of the café workers.

“Be careful, we might get thrown out!”

“I’ll throw you out myself if you don’t stop laughing at my demise.” He furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose as you giggled from your seat. “I’m so lucky to have you.” He murmured, suddenly as soft as a spring rain. You ran your fingers over his hand underneath the table, finding every groove like it was your own.

“And I’m lucky to have you. I love you, you know.” 

Neil smiled gently. “I love you too. So much.”

You sat in that café for a few hours more, until the workers had to politely remind you of their closing hours. You laughed and talked and felt the sheer joy of being with the boy you had begun to consider your soulmate. He was a star, shining his light and illuminating you with his rays. Too often, however, the brightest lights fade within the snap of a finger.

“I hope that when I die,” Neil wrote, right before your thirty-first meeting,

“God will send me back to Earth.

He will say,

‘Live again. Run again,

hope again,

plunge your body into ice-cold water again. 

Hate again, 

and cry again,

run your fingers through the grass again.

Kiss them again, 

press your palms to their faces again,

and lose them again.

Let yourself feel again,

and never forget

that life is what matters, 

not death.’

And I will say,

‘I promise

to do everything I have ever told myself I could not do

again and again and again.’”

He closed his journal with a thump and tucked it into his drawer calmly. That was something he would rather not share with anyone, not even you. 

The day was cold and drizzly, but he stood up with a kind of manic smile. He walked out of the doors of Welton and into your awaiting arms.

You both sat down on a park bench under the cover of a tree. Your seats were slightly wet and very cold, but it didn’t matter all that much. You were just glad to be there with him, with Neil. He was the love of your life, and any time with him was well-spent.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly. He was the same as he always was, you thought. But his eyes were welling up with tears and you just felt the need to ask, like some unearthly force was telling you that you needed to.

He leaned back, putting his arm around the back of the bench with a sigh. “I’m trapped.” He was smiling, but there was such an utter lack of humor behind it that it made you shiver. You shifted closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as a silent sign of comfort. By this point, knew everything there was to know about Neil Perry- even the parts he tried to keep hidden.

“How so?”

“I don’t even know, I just… I want to be an actor. That is what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I can’t, and I’m trapped, and no one can help me, no matter how much they try.” His voice was sullen, but he was still smiling. Curse him for trying to make you feel better even then.

You placed a kiss on the back of his hand and threaded your fingers through his. Your heart ached for him. You knew there was nothing you could do about it, though, and that’s what made it even harder. Holding his hand, telling him it’ll all work out, everything ultimately did nothing for his situation, and you cursed the being that forced him into this position. If you could scream into the night, into the big, black sky to execrate the universe, you would. You did, in the future. You regretted not doing it sooner.

“I’m sorry.” You started, squeezing his hand. “ Just keep going, alright? I promise you, in the future, none of this will matter at all. You just have to stick with it. The world will find a way of figuring it out.”

His face formed a more genuine smile as he laid his head on top of yours. “Yeah. I guess it will.”

The last time Neil Perry saw you was the night he had been anticipating, dreaming about, and dreading: the night of his play. He was prepared. He knew every line and cue by heart, and yet he was still nervous. He was so nervous he could hardly think. 

He stood behind the curtains listening to the chatter of the audience. The rest of the cast members and some of the technicians were scrambling to put everything in place, but he just stared at the dark walls of fabric separating him from his new life. That was it. He was going to put on the best performance of his goddamn life.

The lights dimmed, and he stepped away to take his place.

When it was finally time for him to make his entrance, Neil did it with flourish. “How now, spirit! whither wander you?” He spoke. Cheers came from the audience, whoops and hollers from the dead poets. He could hardly keep himself from smiling.

Then, he saw you. You were grinning wide and large from your seat, giving him that quiet encouragement he had always loved. You whispered his name, and Neil could hear it in his heart.

He was having fun. So much fun. With every line he spoke, with every movement he made, Neil was sinking deeper and deeper into the play and his love for acting. He didn’t remember the last time he had ever felt that alive. 

But with every sinking, there comes a point where one drowns.

His father was there. When had he come? Neil hadn’t seen him before. God. He was burning a hole in the back of his head with his piercing gaze, and it took everything in Neil not to turn and run. That was it, he thought. He was done. But gods be good, he was going to finish his play. He would not let his father ruin this for him.

By the time he was speaking his last lines, the ones he had practiced with you, he barely remembered his father was part of the audience. The curtains closed, and the audience exploded into cheers. He could hear your voice, he swore he could- he was the happiest man on Earth. He had put on the performance of his lifetime, and he couldn’t be more proud. Until, of course, he was dragged out the door by his father.

He was back home before he had even registered his father’s anger. All he could feel was emptiness as the gnawing hole in his stomach expanded to encompass his entire being.

“We're trying very hard to understand why it is that you insist on defying us. Whatever the reason, we're not gonna let you ruin your life. Tomorrow I'm withdrawing you from Welton and enrolling you in Braden Military School. You're going to Harvard and you're gonna be a doctor.” His father stated, eyes sharp. Neil let out a noise of protest.

“But that's ten more years. Father, that's a lifetime! I won’t be able to see any of them again, not one person I knew before. You can’t do this to me, you just can’t.” Tears formed in Neil’s eyes, and as he looked at his mother, she was feeling the same way. And yet she said nothing. He could feel himself becoming increasingly more desperate. 

His father scoffed. “Oh, stop it. Don't be so dramatic. You make it sound like a prison term. You don't understand, Neil. You have opportunities that I never even dreamt of and I am not going to let you waste them.”

Neil rose to his feet, suddenly angry. He needed to fight for this, for himself. He couldn’t just let one man take away everything he had ever loved. If he couldn’t see you, his friends, if he couldn’t act, there was no purpose in his life. “I've got to tell you what I feel.”

Neil’s mother reached for him. “We’ve been so worried about-“ 

“What? What? Tell me what you feel. What is it? Is it more of this, this acting business? Because you can forget that. What?” And just like that, it was gone. Neil sat back down, staring blankly at his lap. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything because he was just a stupid boy who wouldn’t listen. His father scoffed once again before leaving the room.

His mother, ever the soft one, paused.

“I was good. I was really good.” He whispered. She sighed, urging him to his feet. 

“Go on, get some sleep.”

Neil nodded, still in a trance, before trudging to his room. That was it. He was done. He would never see you again, no matter what, and it hurt him so badly he didn’t know what else to do. He ran his fingers over his things lightly before removing his shirt. That was it. He grasped his crown of twigs and placed it on his head, staring out through his open window. The cool air kissed his body sweetly, like your lips on a rainy day. He took a deep breath.

It was time for his last act, his curtain call, his final carpe diem. There was no warning, and yet there did not need to be one. That night, that cold, bitter night, he knew what he needed to do. 

The last time you saw Neil Perry, he didn’t see you. He couldn’t see you. It was December 18th, and you had been asked to read a poem at his funeral. 

God, the word “funeral” hit you like a train. Neil was dead. His sweet demeanor, his gentle words, his soft hair, they were all going to be covered in dirt within the next few hours. You couldn’t stand it. The world needed so much more of him, but terribly, horribly, the world did not deserve it. No one deserved him.

It was odd, you thought, how the sound of one gunshot could replay over and over again in your mind without you ever having heard it at all. The boom, the thud, the scream. It was all so clear in your mind.

As the priest spoke, you felt an emptiness pool in your guts. He was really gone. Your Neil, your poor Neil. You sat between Charlie and Todd, all three of your faces streaked with tears. You could feel more welling up in your eyes, and you let them free without a care. Neil was dead, and nothing else in the world mattered.

In a way, you couldn’t believe it. He was just here, warm and happy and yours. When you got that phone call, you almost joined him. Nothing was worth it anymore, nothing at all. The eulogies, the sobs, they faded into the background as you stared down at the ground.

Before you knew what was happening, you were standing at a podium with a piece of paper clutched between your shaking fingers. Neil’s mom looked up at you in silent support.

You took a breath, so much like the breaths you always took before reading a poem and yet so different. Neil could not hear this one.

“When you died,

the beetles still sang.

The trout still jumped,

and the earth still rumbled.

When you died, the moon still turned

and the stars still burned.

When you died,” Your voice cracked. Looking out into the audience, at people you didn’t know and people you knew so well you could identify them by a strand of their hair, it was too much. Hot tears slipped their way down your face as the pit in your stomach grew ever-wider. 

“The lakes still rippled 

and the trees still creaked

and I lowered you into the ground

and I cried so hard the world stopped moving.” 

There was a murmur throughout the audience, choked sobs and utters of agreement. “For Neil, who lived as he died and died as he lived.” You rasped.

You were quickly ushered away from the podium and back into your seat.

Neil was one in a million. There was no one else in the history of ever that could make you feel so amazing. Like you were a real person, like you mattered. He made everyone feel that way, but something in him burned for you in a way that you believed was unique. And, of course, you burned for him the same. 

The rest of the service went by in a blur. Everyone around you began to get up, and you knew it was time. As you sat there, still as a rock, when everyone went to say their final farewells, you were extinguished. 

You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. When you looked up from your tear-soaked lap, Todd was there, and he clasped your hand. “Let’s go.” He whispered. “Let’s say goodbye.”

You pulled a page from the book by your feet and shoved it into your pocket. It was for him, it always was and it always had been.

“In some other universe, I found you again.

Maybe in this one we held hands, gently and honestly,

or leaned against each other’s shoulders on the train,

or sobbed against each other’s shirts when we crashed and burned,

because anything with you

means flying too close to the sun.” It read. 

As you stood in front of his casket, you could hardly bear to focus on his pale face.

He was cold, so cold. The embalmer had done well with his head, but there was so much that just looked off. He didn’t look like your Neil. He looked empty. You gripped his hand and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. It was winter, and he was colder and paler than the snow.

You held him far longer than what was deemed socially acceptable before tucking the page into his lapel and swiftly walking away.

You weren’t there for his burial, and you knew you couldn’t be. It was just too much. If you had seen his casket close, if you had watched them shovel dirt on top of the wooden box, you would’ve dropped to your knees and screamed. Much like you’re doing now.

You sat on that same old park bench, knees clutched up to your soaked chest, sobbing harder than you ever had before. Your Neil was gone and you could never see him again, not ever.

When you saw Neil Perry for the last time, and god, did you see him, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Whoo hooooo! I think you would create magic as always with this prompt: the first initial kiss being a simple peck, then they immediately go back in for a stronger, more passionate one.

Could I request it with your choice of Tup… or post-stasis Kix… or Hunter? 🫦🥹💙

A/N: Thank you for the ask @freesia-writes! I’ve been wanting to write a fic with a meteor shower for ages, and this was the perfect opportunity. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Hunter x Reader (GN)

Rating: T, but minors DNI as always

Wordcount: 740

Warnings and tags: fluff; sensuality; pop culture in my SW fanfic (it's more likely than you think)

Summary: You and Hunter watch a meteor shower on Pabu.  

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“I’m gonna turn in,” Wrecker said. “I’ll take the kid back to the house if you two want to stay and watch the show.”

“I told her she needed to take a nap if she wanted to stay awake long enough to see the meteor shower,” Hunter laughed quietly, passing Omega’s sleeping form to his brother.

You grinned. “In her defense, if my dad had told me to take a nap when I was twelve, I definitely would have stayed awake just to spite him.”

Wrecker let out a booming laugh. “Didn’t realize you were such a rebel!”

“Ssshhhh!” you and Hunter shushed Wrecker in unison.

“Oh, right,” he whispered. “I’m headin’ out. See ya later.”

You waved goodbye at Wrecker and then flopped back down onto the blanket you’d spread on the sandy beach of Pabu, staring up at the glorious night sky. Hunter soon joined you, not quite touching you, but lying close to your side so you’d both fit on the blanket.

“You’re lucky Omega’s such a great kid,” you murmured. “I was a holy terror at her age. I couldn’t even stand myself; I don’t know how my parents survived.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he chuckled. “The proper schoolteacher of Pabu?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you replied. “I was a teenage dirtbag.”

“Is that why all the kids love you?”

“They sense a kindred spirit under my respectable facade,” you said with a giggle.

Hunter huffed a quiet laugh, and the two of you lapsed into silence as you watched the sky. It was a dark, moonless night, and for once, the sky was entirely free of clouds—a perfect night for stargazing. You could see the entire galaxy stretched out above you, the stars shining brightly enough that they reflected as pinpricks of light on the tranquil ocean.

“Look there,” he said, pointing to a section of the sky close to the horizon. “It’s gonna be a good one.”

Sure enough, a brilliant streak of light soon shot low across the darkness, its flash bright enough to illuminate the beach faintly. As it burned out, you turned your head to stare at Hunter.

“How do you do that?” you asked softly.

“I can hear them,” he replied.

He lay on his back, his eyes fixed on the sky, and you took a moment to watch his face in the starlight. “That’s amazing.”

It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but you thought he smiled. “There’ll be another over there.”

He pointed across your body to a section of sky far to your left. He propped himself up on one elbow so he could see over you, and you turned to the sector he pointed out just in time to catch the vivid burst of light. The meteor split in two as it hit the atmosphere, putting on a dazzling show, and you could hear the distant sizzling as it burnt itself out.

“Even I could hear that one!” you exclaimed, turning to Hunter in excitement.

He was much closer to you than he had been when he was lying on his back, and you caught your breath when you realized that your faces were almost touching. Your pulse began to race, and you silently willed yourself to calm down, knowing that Hunter would be able to hear your body’s reaction to him.

Another meteor shot directly overhead, its bright light illuminating his face, and you realized he was staring at your lips. On impulse, you reached up and kissed him. It was quick and light—barely a peck—and by the time it was over, the beach had plunged back into darkness, leaving you uncertain about his response.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Was that—”

He cut off your question abruptly, his lips crashing into yours in a passionate, urgent kiss. His hand dropped to your waist, rolling your body against his as his tongue grazed your lips softly, sliding into your mouth. The moment he tasted you, he let out a short, desperate sound, almost a growl, as his hand slid possessively up your back. Overhead, a spectacular meteor burst into the atmosphere, its flash so intense that you could see the illumination even though your eyes were closed. You opened them just in time to see the light trail die out.

As your lips parted from Hunter’s, you whispered, “We missed that one.”

He kissed you again, softly. “I prefer the view down here.”

[write-like-you-mean-it]

Sinfully Planned

NanamixReader

Warning: Smut, Vouyerism, hairpulling, eating out woman, oral, cumming inside, more dominate Nanami, cheating too

I hope you all like this one! I know I've been gone for awhile. I'd hope to come back soon but I can't promise anything. Hope you have a good day and happy reading!

I almost never forget anything. I never lose my car keys or my purse. Except for one time. It so happened that I left my keys at Nanami’s apartment. I’d gotten all the way to mine before I even realized my mistake. A simple text was sent, and I made my way back. I told him to keep the door open for me so I can slip in and out. I thought I knew where I had left them. It was on the table by the couch. The couch where I slept last night due to a fight with my boyfriend. I was expecting them to be there. 

I, however, did not expect to hear something from the bedroom: a call of my name. It was small and almost non-existent. I needed to know why he’d called me though. If it was a fluke, I’d just leave. 

A quick peek through the door frame was enough to quench my thirst for knowledge of what was happening inside. I could feel my heart jump to my throat while watching. My eyes were transfixed on Nanami’s hand holding an already dripping dick. He thrusted his hand up and down to accentuate each muscle in his arm. The other gripping the covers as if trying to get a hold on this pleasure. 

The intimate moment felt even more hot because of how vile it was to keep watching. Although, I couldn’t take a moment away from the beauty in front of me. Nanami’s body was sculpted from years of putting in extra work into his craft. It was sinful, yet beautiful. His abs flexed with the pulse of his hand. Nanami kept a close rhythm as if he was already chasing this high. Sweat littered his forehead while he was biting his lip. Sinful grunts escaped beyond his control. It was the original reason I came to his door. 

I could feel myself holding my own breath as if I did anything would cause this beauty to stop, and the show would end. I should stop watching. I should go back and  pretend I didn’t see anything. All of these “shoulds” may even stop me from doing anything. My mind raced before deciding to take a single step back. One step and I’d be free to pretend my crush never existed. That was until the creek from the floorboards gave away my position. 

I cursed the wooden floorboards we had installed years ago. Maybe he didn’t hear. Maybe I can talk my way out of it. All the maybes in the world wouldn’t prepare me for Nanami standing at the door frame in only a towel. “What are you doing?”

 “Nothing,” I stumbled out while trying to walk away. “I was coming to tell you about where we’d be having dinner tonight.” I was making eye contact but slipped to the towel that barely held up against his waist. It was a simple mistake but it made me feel vulnerable. His gaze was glaring and almost predatory. 

“Do you really think I’d buy that excuse?” Nanami says while stretching to drape an arm on the frame. Sweat still gleaned from his brow and chest. His hair was mildly wet with the same sweat. 

I hadn’t realized how much he towered over me. “No,” I muttered. His build was glorious. A god who found his way on earth. His eyes full of a mystery that he refused to tell anyone else. I couldn’t tell who leaned in first. However, our lips met in a passionate frenzy. It was an angry frenzy of passion. 

Nanami lips felt like sweet syrup. They were a bit chapped but easily fixed with some shared saliva. He pressed my body against his so I could feel every bit of him. The towel slipped so easily off. Same with my shirt. His lust mirrored my own as we broke for a second of time. Nanami’s hand reached around and popped off my bra before dragging me to bed. 

“Fuck,” I mutter as the bed squeaked under my weight. He cut off my curse with another chaste kiss. Each one left me breathless. Nanami’s size was massive over me. I meant that in both possible ways. 

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do to you,” he grunts while tugging at my pants. A quick pull, and they fall off with the rest of my clothes that are all lost to the void. His exclamation made my legs cross in excitement for them to be caught by his thigh. “Don’t close them already. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Nanami’s voice felt commanding yet kind. He cared but steadied himself. A finger ran down my pussy. While gathering the juice, he put it to his lips like a drink. He was tasting before his meal. “Already so wet for me, sweetheart?” 

A blush crossed my face and before I could respond, Nanami dipped his head to lick my clit. A simple swipe but enough to create friction all over. He found his peace making me squirm and moan for him. My hands dug into the perfectly placed hair on his head as I pulled him closer. I wanted every bit of myself to be covering his face. 

It took a bit but he finally found what would drive me over the wall soon enough. His tongue lapped up like a starved man. He was worshiping me. He worshiped each second of eating me out. 

I made sure to praise his efforts as he slowly built me up. Finally, I felt the rubber band snap. Nanami took this joy to watch his handwork. He used his thumb to keep my orgasm rolling through my body. His eyes desperately carve his name into my skin. Once I gain composure, I look up to see he is pumping his cock once again. 

“Was that good sweetheart?” he asks. 

I nod my head still trying to catch my breath. My chest was rising and falling at the same rate as he was jerking himself off. My eyes catch a glimpse of my keys. They were sitting on the nightstand. 

“Did you plan this?” I was confused. Nanami took this to turn me around with my ass in the air. I didn’t get an answer to my question, only his dick pushed against my entrance as if asking if he could. How could I deny a simple request? “Who cares. I want you to fuck me.”

“How can I not oblige?” he grunts before pushing into me. Nanami fills me to the brim. “Fuck,” he grunts while bottoming out. My head buries into the mattress. Possessiveness took over his body. He grips my hair and pulls it back. It was an aggressive but commanding tug. 

“Why do you think I left my room door open too?” he growled while forcing him to look at me. His eyes full of lust as he used me as a counterbalance for his thrusts. Our lips crashed aggressively. For as calculated as he seemed to pace himself, his lips betray him. They were moist and hurried to capture any chaste kiss given. My body leaned deeply into his while feeling a beautiful pain. His hand tugged harder into my hair while the other was leaving indents in my skin. 

His pace was demanding. Filling me up with each thrust. It demanded attention beyond what I was used to giving. It caused me to groan against Nanami’s lips. “Fuck Nanami.” My voice felt small.  He took this as a challenge to make me groan louder. His pace slowed enough to get the burn but not enough to feel the high. I repeated my praise to him.

“You’ll have to be louder than that.” His hand dug into my hair where I let out a cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Nanami,” I groaned louder. A resounding smack reverberated around the room. I repeated the curse only to be rewarded with another slap on my ass; however, he let go of my hair. My face fell into the mattress as if it had always been its resting place. One more praise of his name which felt more like I scream made his pace finally speed up. His unaccompanied hand went in between my legs to find my clit. His coarse fingers paced the rhythm. The pace was all too much. It was building to the end. I, also, could feel Nanami’s pace suffer as he was getting closer to his edge. 

“Where?” he grunted.

“Huh?” I asked. To be honest, I wasn’t thinking straight. My eyes were closed while feeling the pace. 

“Where do you want me to paint you?” His voice was becoming more off kilter as if he was trying to race his own high. I was so close. Almost too close. My hands gripped the bedsheets like Nanami did only minutes before. I was focusing on my own high to talk. Drool fell from my mouth as I tried to say words. Finally, I felt the all consuming nature of my orgasm again. Nanami took this to mean inside. His orgasm was hot as he pumped a few loads into me. He groaned my name before finally collapsing to the side. 

The room was filled with the sound of our breath catching up with us. The bedsheets were soiled and in desperate need of a wash. I catch a glimpse of the keys once more. 

“So you did plan this?”

“I wouldn’t say planned. More like it happened.”

Suddenly, a phone’s ringer went off. I knew it was mine, and I knew how deep shit I was in. It was the only person who would put such an obnoxious ringtone on my phone: my boyfriend, Gojo.

[dailyreverie]

Adore you

Part of the Your Wish is my Command universe

A/N: Requested by @dameronshandholder 💖 thank you so much for sending one in! This one ended up being 700 words of Poe being a sweetheart (and tbh exactly what I need rn). I hope you enjoy this warm Poe hug 😊

@flufftober - Day 4 Cinderella Moment (the "ugly duckling" gets their moment to shine)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Solo!reader

Word count: 763

Flufftober masterlist || SERIES MASTERLIST

If there was something Poe truly admired about you, it was your quiet dedication. You always knew just what to say and when to say it, your words carrying an intelligent and thoughtful touch. Even during missions, your first instinct was to praise your team and share the credit with them. "I don't need anyone kissing the ground I walk on," you had once remarked, prompting a playful roll of Poe's eyes. He respects your work, applauds it every time he can, but sometimes he wishes you would let others see how hard you worked.

Poe's wish came true when you returned from a week-long mission, one that had started with you sifting through intel at your desk and eventually leading your squad to investigate a supposed First Order station. Your departure had been a quick, hidden kiss behind crates, but your return was met with cheers and applause. 

He sees you come back victorious, like a bounty hunter who was about to get their life's worth in credits. The word had spread quickly, and soon not only the general, but most of the base went up to you. He sees you from afar, not able to contain the proud smile that begins to form on his face and the warmth in his chest that creeps up when he sees the praise you are receiving from everyone. With everyone clapping and cheering your cheeks begin to hurt from smiling and laughing; your mother goes up to hug you and whispers something in your ear that Poe can only guess is a confirmation of how proud she is of you, your own squad pushing you to receive the recognition you deserve. He could spend all day every day hearing all the wonderful things about you that you are getting from everyone, just to make you see that everything he sees in you is true.

From his spot far away from the crowd, Poe can see the sudden flicker of your eyes among the multitude that surrounds you, your search for him evident in his eyes, to which he can’t help but chuckle. You find him as if you had heard him, your cheeks immediately heating up from the way he’s looking at you alone, welcoming and shining, ignoring every rule of discretion you may have set before. If it were for you, you would ignore everyone else and run towards him, wrap your arms around him, and let yourself melt in the sweet nothings you knew he was saving for your ears only. 

When the crowd finally dissipates he’s still standing there, the same glorious smile on his face waiting for you when you finally go up to him.

"Lieutenant," Poe greeted you with a nod, his smile revealing the depth of his feelings.

"Commander," you replied, your cheeks still flushed. "All of this attention feels a bit much." You did your best to remain professional in your words, knowing people could still be around, but deep inside, you yearned for Poe to whisk you away to his quarters and let you forget about the mission entirely.

“Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, what you did was amazing. You deserve every praise, and every cheer, and every hug everyone wants to give to you.” Poe declared, his hands gently caressing your shoulders with subtle motions to keep your focus on him. "I'm so glad that everyone can now see what I see. That you see what I see."

“Thanks, Poe.” Your words choke on your throat. You didn’t expect to get emotional, but the way he speaks makes tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes, his kind and beautiful eyes only emphasizing every word he says. 

"I'm incredibly proud of you," Poe continued, his eyes looking around to ensure privacy before brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. "Always."

“Maker, I must be exhausted.” You chuckle as you justify your emotions, sniffing and wiping away your tears. “And I missed you, so damn much, which is probably why I’m getting so emotional.”

“I missed you too.” Poe joins your laughter and hugs you close to his chest, rocking you side to side softly. In the middle of his tight embrace, you can hear him whispering one more “I’m proud of you” against the top of your head where he seals the words with a lingering press of his lips.

Reluctantly, you pulled apart, but your hands lingered, promising a reunion after your mission debrief with the General. At that moment, you both knew that the sweetest reward awaited in each other's arms.

🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[tiredfox64]

It’s Just Natural

Prior notes: This was spontaneous. I grew sexually frustrated and wrote to prevent myself from freaking out. Like I got aggressive. This was the result this was not even planned.

Pairing: Rain(MK1) x Umgadi! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW (mild I’d say), masturbation, semi public masturbation

A vow of chastity, what a joke.

Being Umgadi is supposed to be an honorable position. Selected from firstborn daughters of Outworld to become warrior priestesses to the royal family. But the older you got the more difficult it was to be a part of this life. That damn vow of chastity.

You wanted to love and you wanted to make love. The hormones raged and you were itching for a chance to feel the touch of someone. Someone like the High Mage of Outworld himself: Rain.

The first time you ever saw him it was like your body felt alive for once. Your heart was pounding, your breathing quickened, your legs wobbled, and you felt a tingling between your legs. The way he fought and how powerful his water magic was amazed you. You stared from a distance, never wanting to look away from that handsome man. You weren’t good at hiding your feelings however. Tanya was quick to remind you that relationships are forbid. She’s one to talk.

You almost wanted to leave the Umgadi in that moment. If Li Mei could do it so could you. But you’d be abandoning a life you literally grew up in. In that moment you realized how empty your life felt and Rain seemed to be the piece you needed to be whole again. Is this what love is?

When you were brave enough you went up to Rain and ask to train with him. He was surprised an Umgadi would ask him for help. He thought it was strange but accepted. That request caused an explosion in your heart. You trained with Rain whenever you could. Skill wise you were actually improving. And you had the opportunity to know more about Rain. You two got close pretty quickly. Sometimes you two wouldn’t train but instead talk to each other. Your feelings for him grew more and more to the point it became unbearable to be away from him. Your body suffered from the lack of any intimacy. You had to take care of it.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

After a quick training session with Rain you got that feeling between your legs again. Your body needs attention now. You quickly said goodbye before running off. Very suspicious of you.

You had to find your own place to masturbate since going to your bed meant other Umgadi would be there. Never any privacy for you. A while ago you found a forested area that wasn’t too far from the training ground but hidden away from others. It was your spot, your alone space. A perfect place to masturbate without any eyes on you…or so you thought.

Your fingers rubbed your clit desperately, feeling the pulse of pleasure move through you. The stone that you laid on cooled your body as you began to heat up. Your breathing grew heavy as your mind got to work.

════ ⋆☁️⋆ ════

The idea of riding Rain blessed your mind. You’d love to be in bed with him. Bouncing up and down his cock slowly to make it last. You’d run your hands down his chest, nails lightly scraping against his skin. The sunlight would peak through the windows and shines on his tan skin. It’d made him look even more glorious to you. You could imagine how he would whimper when you slide back down slowly. His hands would roam up your thighs and hold your hips. The eye contact never broke. Rain would look up at you like you were the purest and most beautiful being that the gods blessed the universe with. Such love and affection in his eyes. The atmosphere is loving and warm.

Faster you’d go and sweet, little moans would leave your lips. You’d lean your body more on his and he’d take that as his opportunity. His arms would wrap around your waist and bring you in for a kiss. A kiss full of passion and muffles both of your moans. His hips thrust up into you as you two continue to kiss. The pressure builds up in you, ready to burst if Rain kept going. The kisses gets sloppier and you could hear him whimpering your name. You two are ready to have that sweet release that will bind you together more. There is nothing that connects two people more than cumming together. Closer and closer, more and more he calls your name. Loving him, touching him, fucking him, all this for him. Closer…closer…and…

════ ⋆☁️⋆ ════

The orgasm hits you hard. You were pent up for so long. You couldn’t contain your moans and without you realizing it you called out Rain’s name, his actual name. You were euphoric for a good minute, panting with your hand still down your pants. But you had to return soon or someone might come searching for you. So you take your hand out of your pants, fix yourself up, grab your spear, and get right back to it.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

I never said you were actually out of sight, you just thought you were.

See, when you ran off something from your uniform fell off. Rain realize it and wanted to return it to you. He was also just trying to spend more time with you. He went in the same direction you went in and he managed to find your little hiding spot. He also heard your moans.

Rain immediately froze up. It would be rude to intrude on you if you were doing…something. But he couldn’t deny he was curious and even turned on. So from behind a tree he watched you pleasure yourself. You were so absorbed in your fantasy you never sensed his presence. And when you moaned his name as you climaxed he got so turned on.

Even when you left he didn’t come out of hiding. He stayed quiet and played the whole thing in his head. Your moans, oh how he wanted to hear them again. There was pressure down there and when Rain looked down he saw how hard he was. He pulled down his pants a little to free his cock, only to find he was already dripping precum. He knew he liked you but damn. Looks like he’ll just return your belonging later. For now he has an issue to fix. Maybe his fantasy will be just as creative as yours.

After note: Like I mentioned this was spontaneous so it may be messy, my b. But let me just say this again THANK YOU FOR THE LIKES AND REPOST. I can’t believe the amount of repost on the last one. TANGERINE WHAT WERE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?! Madness I say. But some of the reposts made me giggle and it made me happy to see that I’ve converted someone into a Rain fucker. However I think I’m doing too much with him cause it’s gonna be raining all week for me what did I manifest?? Ugh I’m yapping but again thanks, hope y’all enjoy and I’ll get another MK11 Rain out soon (can’t promise it will be just as good). Adiós!