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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year ago

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Spooky season needs spooky stuff.. >:3

So can I request the digital circus cast (minus Caine)meeting a Child Spirit Y/n headcanons,who like Kinda possesed/went inside the game to find they’re killer for some reason? They are eerily quiet and like to stare but if talked to very sweet but quick to snap in distrust because..well trust is what got them killed in the first place? They’re a bit bloody..and a eyeball sometimes hangs out?? Like vhs horror stuff

Sorry I’m being so descriptive,I hope you are a nice day!

OOOoo yes time for more spooks!

Also I am having a nice night, thanks! (and I hope you are having a nice day/night too!)

......

Pomni

To make a long story short, you got murdered while wearing the headset, and that tethered your spirit to TADC.

As expected, you lost memories of who you were--except for the knowledge that someone killed you because you trusted them too much, and you believed the answers were inside this very game.

Your character ends up looking like a child's ghost costume: a white bedsheet stained in blood and one of your eyeballs occasionally wanting to pop from its socket.

Caine (who was very much bewildered at your arrival) declares that you're part of an "exclusive Halloween update" and changes up the tent and grounds to have more spooky flair.

But Pomni clearly wants no part of it, and she can tell you don't either.

You're clearly a kid who is (somehow) handling the situation of being stuck in this game better than her, yet when she tries asking you about it....all you do is stare back.

She swears she can hear static noises and whispers she can't decipher--all in all getting a...very creepy vibe from you.

Initially she decides to keep her distance, afraid you were secretly some virus or Abstraction underneath that sheet.

But that changes when you're walking by the rooms one night, and you pass by Pomni's door, hearing her quietly crying.

Although you weren't inclined to get close to anybody here, you were concerned. And since you weren't actually coded into the game, you didn't have to follow any of its rules--and that allowed you to enter her room without a key.

At first you scared the shit out of her, but after realizing it's you, she lets you sit beside her, eventually venting about how badly she missed her real home.

"Everyone keeps telling me "oh this place is so much better" or "get used to it"...but what if I don't wanna do that? I don't care if my old life was bad...I-I can't take anymore of this.." Her sobs grow louder. "I wanna wake up in my own bed knowing my real name!!"

"...I miss home, too," is all you say in response. Yet it's more than enough to calm her down.

For once, you're not trying to brush her off or force her to "cheer up" and accept her reality. You made her feel heard.

"Yeah..me, too....sh-should I thank you for agreeing..?" She sniffles, seeing your subtle nod, before you leave her be, not wanting to get too attached.

Ironically, she was able to sleep a little easier after talking to you.

Jax

From the get-go, he's gonna be real nosy and curious.

Since not even Caine himself expected your arrival and found out that you don't follow the "rules" like everyone else...Jax is gonna try his damnedest to understand you and see what makes you tick.

But he's gonna be disappointed quickly since you don't respond much to him (or anybody in general).

"So...ya like Halloween?"

"........"

"....thought so. Good talk, new kid."

You definitely act like a legit ghost--doing nothing but stare, move things around, and pop up unexpectedly.

Eventually, his curiosity leads to him visiting your room (which has no key), and he discovers many drawings on the walls.

Most depicting a dead person wearing a headset.

What he found most disturbing was a journal that contained his and the others' names..

From what he's gathering...you're suspecting one of them of murdering your real world-self.

But he doesn't get much time to ponder this as you show up, angry at him for intruding.

You make yourself look even bloodier and scarier, with both of your eyeballs hanging from their sockets and staring at him.

"Get out."

Those two simple words put the fear of god in him.

Jax runs out faster than a jackrabbit, colliding with Gangle in the process. Her comedy mask falls off again, but he catches it and looks at her.

"J-Jax..?" She realizes his fur is standing up on all ends, and he looks terrified....even more than he did after realizing the circus was his forever home.

But he just shoves the mask back into her hands and leaves without saying a word.

He never speaks of what he found in your room that day.

Kinger

He thought his eyes were weird...until you came along and periodically had to put your own eyeball back into its socket.

"It's good to know I'm not alone!" He nervously chuckles, only to be met with your eerie silence.

Sometime later, he suggests showing you his insect collection, and it does pique your interest.

You did love all things "creepy" and "crawly".

Yet you're adamant about going to his pillow fortress after he invites you.

It reminds you of the ones you used to build all the time, up until...

Fortunately, Kinger recognizes your reluctance and just brings one of his bug boxes to you so you can look at it.

He could infodump about the various critters for hours, with nothing but nods and quiet "mhms" from you, and he's happy.

In general, he doesn't mind your quiet personality.

Although you still sometimes jumpscare him unintentionally like Gangle often does.

Tbh he's a good father figure and recognizes that you're just a kid who got trapped in this game unfairly.

Even so, you try to keep your distance and looks at him suspiciously if he starts acting too nice.

He was quiet aloof, and you weren't sure how he would act on any given day.

Gangle

After accidentally spooking her (by simply existing in the same room as her), she breaks her comedy mask off.

But immediately she feels guilty for screaming and tries scrambling to fix it, hoping you weren't mad at her.

Yet all you do is stare, not looking angry or anything at all (it's hard for any of the performers to see your expression in general, aside from your hanging eye, but still).

Poor Gangle is just afraid you'd turn into a scarier version of yourself.

When she keeps cutting her ribbon fingers(?) on the ceramic pieces, you come over and clean it up for her, taking it away despite your own hands bleeding.

The implications that you were able to shed blood and nobody else were a little disturbing to her..but she's glad you're not offended by her screaming.

Although she wonders where you're going with her mask..

Later on, you knock on her door and present it fully fixed.

Except...it looks more Halloweenish with an evil smile painted on it, messily glued together.

'Oh god I hope this doesn't turn me evil or anything..' She thinks, putting on a smile as she takes it anyways.

Yet you remain where you are, staring and clearly waiting for her to try it on.

And so she does, and it turns her into a very chaotic Halloween lover, acting even more mischievous than Jax and allowing her to finally get her revenge for all his pranks.

In the end, you gain a decent friendship with her, subtly protecting her from Jax's bullying.

Ragatha

Seeing that you're so distant from the rest of the gang has her worried.

Some of them might consider your loose eyeball creepy, but she's not gonna judge you on that (besides, she's missing an eye altogether so she can't say much anyways).

Howeve,r she's the first to find out how strong your distrust of everyone is.

"[Y/n]? I don't think it's good to be isolating yourself like this. I know you hate being here and Caine's a weirdo..but...we're all in this together. You can trust us-"

"Don't." You warn, putting on a frightening display of anger that sends her tumbling to the ground, sending chills up her spine.

"Trust" became something you didn't take lightly, as the last time you put your trust in someone....you ended up dead, turning into a literal ghost in the machine (that was your gaming system).

Despite this, Ragatha doesn't run away.

Like Pomni, she understands that you're just a kid who's confused and lost.....and clearly had serious trust issues.

But she's determined to help you through that, even if you keep scaring everybody away.

She's got motherly instincts, and she hopes that in due time you'll learn to warm up to her.

Zooble

"A bedsheet worn as a costume? That's a classic."

She's seen weirder things during their time in the circus, so you don't faze her too much.

Only when you snap at Ragatha or somebody who was trying to be nice to you does she raise an eyebrow.

Honestly, they 100% understand that you just wanted to be alone sometimes, and she respects that.

It's suffocating trying to act all cheery and go along with every damn activity Caine tries to get everyone involved in (but lucky for you, he can't make you follow along).

Especially since she believes he made up that stupid "Halloween update" as lazy way to explain your sudden arrival.

The only time you do interact with Zooble is after she yanks Jax by his ears, and they hear this eerie-sounding giggle behind them.

When she turns around, you're just standing there motionless, staring at her.

Somehow, they just know you were smiling underneath that costume, which makes her smile, too.

"Maybe I should pull him out a hat next time, huh?" She jokes after letting him go, and you giggle once more as he hits the ground.

#clanask #anonymous #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc kinger #tadc gangle #tadc jax #tadc zooble #ghost reader #child reader #tw body horror #platonic #headcanons #halloween

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inkedells · 1 year ago

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reader accidentally calling “daddy” dbf!joel !! i wanna know how he reacts 😫 btw i love reading ur stories!! 🫶🏻

A/N: i've been wanting to write this for so long and this request gave me an excuse to sooooo here ya go!

m!dni | requests open.

tags/warnings: daddy kink (obvs), shy!reader, dbf!joel lovessss dirty talk, like srsly the filthiest dirty talk, grinding, sorta kinda some reeaaaally light humiliation vibes, p in v

masterlist

The first time you blurted it out, Joel thought he was hearing things.

It was early morning. With your legs twisted into his, you had maneuvered yourself so that you were straddling his thigh as you both lay on your sides. Joel just embraced you, petting your hair and cooing dirty things and sweet things alike as you worked your hips against the warm heat of his skin.

“Mm,” You moaned, gently kissing the column of Joel’s neck as his large hands grabbed your ass and guided the movement of your hips.

“C’mon, honey, use it. You’re not stopping ‘till my thigh’s soaked.”

Joel removed one of his hands from your backside in favor of stroking himself from beneath the cover of his boxers instead. The way he tented the fabric had you salivating, something primal taking over as you whispered, “Want it…”

Joel noticed the way your eyes were intensely trained on his crotch, and he immediately understood.

“What?” He pulled his cock from its confines, “You wanna fuck this instead?”

You bit your lip and nodded, completely aware of the blush rising to your cheeks.

“I’m not sure you want it bad enough, though,” Joel teased, and you knew immediately what this was about. He wanted to hear dirty, depraved things come out of your mouth. His favorite part about you being vocal was the way your arousal would make you stumble over your sentences and mumble just barely above a whisper as you whined between words.

Maybe it was the intoxication of his scent as you continued to grind against him eagerly, or the way he kept muttering, “I got you,” with every whimper that fell from your lips, but you were suddenly filled with an urge you didn’t know how to stave off.

It came out like a whisper. Something you could’ve easily shrugged off and insisted never happened.

“Daddy… Want it, please...”

The hands that were working your ass over before were now frozen.

You removed your face from the crook of Joel’s neck and looked up at him with hooded eyes as you continued grinding on his thigh.

Joel cracked a crooked smile. “It’s like that, huh?”

You blushed as you nodded hesitantly, hugging Joel tight as he untangled your legs from his own and rolled you onto your back, towering above you as he bracketed your hips with his knees.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna fuck you good and hard and deep, just how his baby needs.”

“Oh god, yes,” You moaned. Joel never took his eyes off you as he slipped off your panties and swiped a finger through your aching, wet folds.

“So fuckin’ wet. Anybody else get you like this?”

“No,” You whispered shakily, hands darting to grip Joel’s wrist as he worked against your pussy in tandem.

“Who? Who do you become a whining, wet, horny little mess for?”

“You, Daddy,” You whimpered, groaning at the loss when Joel pulled his hand away from your pussy in favor of taking his cock out of his boxers.

“Mm, that’s right. Baby’s gonna get fucked real messy now, that alright? Can Daddy stuff this cute little pussy to the brim with his cum?”

You hadn’t even responded yet when Joel suddenly pressed against your entrance with the tip of his cock and entered you in one smooth motion.

"Ruin it, Daddy."

masterlist

A/N: yeah yeah i know i'm pumping out fics like crazy but i just have a lot of motivation rn so keep the requests coming!! i love u all i'll try to get as many done as possible (before i inevitably crash and don't write anything for a week)

taglist (the rest will be in a reblog, if your name is crossed out i can't tag you):

@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare

@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13

@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams

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metalichotchoco · 1 year ago

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Since we know the performers are humans that entered the circus it’s interesting to theorize who they used to be before that. Of course we have very very little information but I still wanted to work with what we do have because it’s deceptively a lot. At least for 2 characters, but I’m not gonna talk about pomni. She has alot of religious imagery tied to her but there’s nothing really holding that together. Anyways imma talk about Kinger.

We are told 2 things outright about kinger, he’s been there the longest and he’s “crazy”

My theory is that Kinger was the lead developer/ someone high up that worked on the circus. Out of everyone he’s the one with the most logic when it comes to the world and how it works which is weird and insane to anyone looking in. A lot of this can be chalked up to pure experience but things like the nutritional value of food or timing when someone will abstract is a little outside things he should be aware of. He’s a white king chess piece.

White moves first in a game. He probably is the first to arrive, trying to test the game before the company sells it to the public. He’s also a weak but extremely important figure in the game. If anything gets too close to him, he’s in check essentially. The tent’s floors are also a chessboard theme which probably doesn’t mean anything but I wanted to mention it. He refers to himself as “royalty” and the lead developer of a game would probably be considered such. Everything is screaming that he’s important.

Under the cut I’ll talk about his other design elements

Out of the 4 characters that wear gloves only 2 both have white gloves, Kinger and Caine. White gloves also seem to be our “cursor” of sorts but that’s not the only thing these two have in common. They also have the same style of eyes, more bloodshot in kinger’s case, they are asymmetrical humanoid eyes that both share blue as one of their colors. It’s a bit strange that they share these traits when they could’ve totally gone fully unique. It feels almost deliberate.

They are both as crazy as each other but one is introverted and one is extroverted. Obviously they’ve known each other the longest so I wonder how their relationship is onscreen. Though something I’m realizing is that Kinger and Caine’s teasers were also connected! They were telling two sides of the same story. Bubble tries to chomp Kinger but Caine reels bubble back in.

I wonder if Kinger’s actual name is Abel.. that’s going too far I think lol. I need to see a fully green eyed character now

There’s definitely something here but I don’t expect my theory to actually be what canon will become lol.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc fanart #tadc theory #tadc kinger #tadc caine #the amazing digital circus theory #Kinger and Caine #amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus theory #Kinger #Caine #the amazing digital circus caine #the amazing digital circus kinger

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kittenofdoomage · 1 month ago

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Vessel

THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.

Summary: The last night of a camping trip you weren’t really enjoying ends up with an accidental summoning.

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Eldritch Creature!Geralt x fem!reader

Word Count: 2872

Warnings: tentacles, please forgive my awful Latin, dubious consent but not really, triple penetration (anal/vaginal/oral), belly bulging, other dimensions, accidental blood offerings

The spot Laurie had chosen for the night was a frequently used site at the foot of the mountain, surrounded by trees and caves, and not too far from the parking lot so carrying everything wasn’t an issue. You had only come along on the trip when she had begged you too, even if camping wasn’t ordinarily your thing, and neither was her obsession with ghost hunting. The whole trip had been for her birthday, so you hadn’t felt right complaining about the activities when you were grateful to be included and this was the last night you would have to endure the uncomfortable sleeping roll and threadbare sleeping bag.

With a fire built, you sat around it with the other women, staring at the marshmallow on the stick you held as it melted into the fire. They chatted about their favorite parts of the trip so far, describing the supposedly haunted house that Laurie had insisted on visiting.

“I got something special for our last night,” she announced once all the s’mores were gone. “Do you guys remember me telling you about my grandpa’s library, all the weird creepy books he left when he died?”

A murmur of acknowledgement went around the group and she giggled, dragging a bag around the stump she was sitting on, opening it. From within, she pulled a thick tome, ancient-looking, bound in cracked brown leather. You couldn’t see the front of it clearly from where you were, only the raised edges of a serpent-like design on the cover.

One of the others sniffed, peering at the book curiously. “What is that? Some kind of occult thing?”

“I dunno,” Laurie shrugged, opening it in her lap. “It’s full of weird Latin and pictures of dicks.”

Missy, sitting directly beside her, leaned over to look. “I don’t think those are dicks,” she commented, pointing at something on the page. “Okay, maybe that one is.”

The conversation became centered on the pages of the book, all of them giggling as they looked at the various pornographic pictures inside. You continued to watch the fire, tired of being outdoors, but too polite to retreat to your tent. Missy called your name, and you looked up as she handed you the book.

“This one totally looks like you,” she giggled, thrusting the book into your lap. Your gaze fell on the only picture on the page, a depiction of a naked woman, bound and exposed, the crude drawing detailing her genitalia. You wrinkled your nose in distaste, not seeing the resemblance between yourself and the obscene image.

“Come on, it totally does,” Laurie laughed. “You could use a good ravishing like her.”

Your bottom lip jutted out. “Low blow,” you replied solemnly, lifting the book to offer it back to her. “Here, I’m - ow!” The pain was sharp, then instantly faded to a throb as blood welled out of the paper cut and dripped onto the book, staining the page red. “Oh my god, Laurie, I’m so sorry -”

“It’s fine,” she dismissed urgently, tossing the book back towards the bag, more concerned about the blood on your hand. “That’s bleeding pretty badly.”

The others gathered around, offering napkins and band aids, but you waved them off, sucking your finger into your mouth to clean it. “It’s just a papercut, it’ll heal,” you muttered, taking one of the offered tissues to wrap it around until it stopped bleeding. “I, uh, I think I’m gonna call it a night though.”

“I’m pretty beat too,” Missy yawned. “Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed tomorrow.”

You smiled, then took your leave, crawling awkwardly into your single sleeper tent, listening as the others all cleaned up and put the fire out. The noise tapered off into just the owls in the distance, and you wriggled out of most of your clothing, keeping only your t-shirt and panties on. Your finger had stopped bleeding, so you tossed the tissue into your rucksack with the rest of the trash you had collected since your last stop.

With silence outside, only broken by the odd hoot of an owl, you dozed off quickly, despite the lumpy ground underneath your bedroll. For a few hours, you slept, and then something woke you in the dead of the night, making you sit up. You opened the zip on the tent, poking your head out, seeing nothing but the other tents, a few fireflies, and the book, sitting on the stump by the remains of the fire.

It was strange that Laurie had left it there. You climbed out, moving towards it with the intention of putting it in your tent for the night so it didn’t get damaged, but when you picked it up, the flames in the center of your little camp suddenly came to life again. Surprise knocked you onto your ass, and you dropped the book; it landed open, right on the page that was still stained with the red of your blood. For some reason, your attention was drawn to it, and you read the Latin, wondering what it meant as you whispered it.

“Ubi in tenebris habitat, in vacuo ubi expectat, salutabo, ei me tradam, ut me tanquam vasculo suo benedicat et prodiat.”

The fire went out. You lifted your head as the wind whipped up, and then the ground underneath suddenly opened. Your shocked cry was cut off as the earth swallowed you, and you landed on solid ground with a thud, grunting as you impacted. Assuming you’d fallen through a sinkhole, you looked up to call out for the others, only to find a fathomless darkness above you, and all around you.

The air smelled damp. Hard ground bruised your knuckles as you forced yourself to your feet, keeping low before realizing there was nothing above you. You didn’t feel confined, and when you spoke, your voice was almost absorbed by the darkness around you. “Hello?” Taking a step forward, you leaned, repeating your question in a harsher tone. “Hello?!”

Somewhere in the void, something - someone - hummed. It sounded male, and you tried to pinpoint the source, searching with no success.

“Is someone there?”

The sound of something moving made you turn, and two human-shaped golden eyes appeared, focused on you. “I am the dweller in the dark,” a male voice said softly. “Who is it that greets me?”

You shivered, suddenly very aware of your undressed state, tugging the hem of your t-shirt down. “M-my name is Y/N,” you whispered. “Who - who are you?”

He, you assumed, laughed. “You summon me, yet ask who I am,” he chuckled. “Did you not understand the words you spoke? Was it not your blood given as a token of your offering?”

“No, I -,” you murmured then stopped, shaking your head. “What - what did I say?”

Another low rumble of laughter. “Even after all these centuries, humans remain foolish.”

You screwed up your face, indignant at his words. “Hey!” you snapped. “I’m not a fool, I just don’t know Latin!”

Your ire seemed to make him laugh harder, and you scowled, turning to walk away, even though it appeared there was nowhere to walk to. After a few meters, you threw your arms up in frustration, looking around to see the golden eyes right where they had been; you hadn’t moved at all. “What is this place?!” you cried.

“This is my realm,” he informed you. “I have been here for a millenia, waiting for someone to speak the words and offer themselves. Now you are here.”

“O-offer themselves?” you repeated as x-rated imaginings instantly flooded your mind. You squeezed your thighs together, ashamed of the heat you felt between them. “No, I -” He didn’t say anything, and you shook your head, clutching at your shirt. “What are you?”

His answer came as he emerged from the darkness. He was tall, broad, pale as snow with white hair that flowed past his shoulders, framing his handsome ethereal face. Your eyes swept over him, and when you realized he was naked, your face warmed, making you drop your gaze to the floor as your imagination got a little wilder.

“I am ancient,” he murmured, with a ravenous look in his eyes. “I am what came before man was even a whisper.” He tilted his head, smiling salaciously at you. “But you may call me Geralt.”

You swallowed, trying not to look at him. “What do you want from me?”

He took a step closer. “Only what you offered,” he replied in a thicker voice, his desire clear as he closed the distance between you. “What I see in your mind.” Your lips parted as your breathing grew heavier, and then he was within touching distance. “And in return,” he continued softly, reaching to touch your cheek with just the tips of his fingers, “I offer my eternal devotion and protection.”

“Oh,” you inhaled sharply. Caught in the hypnotic shimmer of his eyes, you lean into his touch, feeling something like an electric charge go through you as his palm cradles your jaw, ending in a tingling right in your core. You shuddered, whispering as you kept staring, words falling from your lips without thinking. “I offer myself…”

His lips pressed against yours, and you melted into him, bracing your hands against his firm chest. A dull throb started in your cunt, growing stronger when his tongue slipped into your mouth, licking into you hungrily. When he broke away, his eyes were blazing, and he smiled, catching your bottom lip with his thumb. “I accept,” he murmured reverently.

Something brushed your ankle and you shook it off, realizing too late that it was wrapping around you, sliding up your calf. You looked down, eyes widening as you saw the tentacle, joined seconds later by others that wrapped around your legs. More emerged from the darkness, capturing your arms and forcing them behind your back, thrusting your chest out. They made quick work of destroying your clothing, leaving you bare and exposed as they lifted you from the ground, suspending you with your legs spread wide. Geralt watched, and as you fought to hold your head up, you saw that the flexible appendages were coming from him.

You knew you should have been panicking but something calmed you, and when two tentacles slithered around your breasts, using their tips to tease your nipples, you cried out in pleasure, clenching around nothing. Geralt moved closer, stopping between your knees, laying one hand over your sodden cunt.

“Such a perfect vessel,” he hummed, thumbing at your clit.

The tip of one tentacle flicked over the swell of your ass, slipping between your spread cheeks to tease at your tight rose. You gasped, eyes rolling back as it prodded into you, wriggling against the puckered entrance, and you mewled when you realized you wanted it inside you.

This is wrong, your mind protested, quickly silenced by your overwhelming arousal. “Please,” you begged, desperately for anything inside you.

Two more tentacles brushed against your cunt, pressing against your swollen petals until they were spread open, and Geralt practically purred, abandoning your clit to push two fingers into you. Just the width of them was more than you’d taken in a long time, and you cried out, clenching around him as your juices coated his skin.

“So wet,” he praised. “You want more?”

You nodded, feeling an almost physical pain in your need to cum. He smirked, withdrawing his fingers; a thick tentacle replaced them, pushing into you with little preamble, and you screamed as it abruptly started to fuck into you, filling you more and more with each stroke. Still, you craved more, and as if he sensed your need, the tentacle at your ass pushed against your tight hole, taking only seconds to break through and fill you.

Geralt bent down, sealing his mouth around your clit, and when you cried out this time, more tentacles surrounded you. One wrapped around your throat, tightening enough to hold you in place as another pressed between your lips, filling your mouth. You were paralyzed, subject to the creature’s whims, and the pleasure that flowed through you was almost as incapacitating as their grip. A powerful orgasm made your eyes roll back, and your cunt gushed, dripping down the tentacle pulsing inside.

It pulled free as Geralt dragged his mouth away, fisting his meaty cock before lining it up with your aching pussy. “Your gift is well received,” he rumbled, pushing forward slowly, letting you feel the tip first, just a hint of how he was going to ruin you. The tentacle in your mouth slithered away and its counterparts lifted your upper body enough for you to see what was about to happen. “Now accept mine,” he finished, sinking the entirety of his generous manhood deep inside you.

You couldn’t remember how to breathe. He was so deep that you were certain your lower body was bulging with him. Looking down only made you moan as you saw he was buried to the hilt, and he twitched inside you, making you aware of exactly where his tip was nestled, right against the mouth of your womb. The tentacle in your ass had stopped when he had filled you, but slowly, it began to move again, sliding back and forth, swelling as if it wanted to match the thickness in your cunt.

“Perfect,” he groaned, framing your belly with his large hands. “Let me see you, little one.”

He dragged you up, then back down again, watching your pussy as it struggled to accommodate him all over again. You were certain you would die from the intense pleasure, from the coil of apprehension making your cells feel like they were vibrating. The tentacle in your ass fucked deeper and deeper as Geralt got faster; the ones on your breasts were still tormenting your nipples, leaving them sore and aching.

Keeping your eyes open became a losing fight. You couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended or the next one began. The ecstasy left you drunk on his touch, like you’d been at his mercy for hours, and you had no problem with it. Whatever doubtful voice had spoken before was gone, obliterated by your otherworldly lover.

“You have been so good for me,” Geralt murmured, pressing his hand against your belly where you could feel his cock punching deep. “My gift is yours.”

There was a pulse of warmth in your ass, and the tentacle buried inside it thickened before spilling into you, just as his cock filled your cunt to overflowing with his seed. You cried out, feeling your stomach bulge with his offering, feeling your own orgasm rip away whatever dregs of energy you had left. Geralt didn’t move until he was finished, slowly withdrawing from both your holes.

His spend dripped out of you as the tentacles slowly lowered you to the ground and released you. The euphoria they had granted you dragged you towards unconsciousness, aided by the darkness around you. You didn’t know where Geralt had gone but couldn’t think on it further, dozing off on the hard floor with satisfaction settling deep in your bones.

You bolted awake, kicking out in your sleeping bag as you sat up, panting hard. It took a moment for you to realize that you were back in your tent, in your intact shirt and panties, though the latter were soaked through. It was daylight outside, and you could hear the others talking, so you moved to join them, wondering if they had noticed anything odd during the night but finding yourself too nervous to say anything about your encounter, which you were slowly believing to be a dream.

After eating breakfast in silence, you packed up your things, desperate to be home in your own space after a long week. None of the other women noticed anything about your anxious behavior, dropping you at your apartment hours later with promises of a meetup later in the month. You smiled, pretending everything was fine, waving them off before you darted inside and tossed all your camping stuff in the laundry basket.

It was getting dark outside, and your desire for your bed won out over everything else. You crawled underneath the sheets, reveling in the comfort as you stared at the ceiling, replaying what you were now assuming was a dream. The steady throb between your legs grew, and you reached down with one hand, rubbing a single finger against your clit through your panties.

Something familiar slipped over your ankle, twisting around your calf before creeping towards your center. You gasped, sitting upright as a second grabbed your other leg. “Geralt?” you asked warily, unsure if you were imagining it.

The room filled with darkness, and arms wrapped around you from behind, where your bed had disappeared. “I am here,” Geralt replied, replacing your hand on your pussy with his own as his tentacles spread you open. He filled you completely in one stroke, and you cried out, delirious with pleasure all over again.

He chuckled, holding your back firm against his chest, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. “You are my anchor now. I will always be with you…”

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT 😁

#eldritch creature geralt #geralt of rivia fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #geralt of rivia x reader #monsterfucking #tentacles #monstober 2024

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theoldgodsaredisappointed · 2 months ago

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Fundraiser List 3 (Part 1)

Donate if you can, reblog if you can't

Once again posting all the peoples' fundraisers who have reached out for help in my inbox. Often I feel bad for those who reach out to me, I cannot donate myself, and I have no following. These posts never seem to go far. Help me change that. Please, to the like 5 real people following me, just reblog. I understand if you cannot donate but you can still do something, you can share and boost and spread. No action is too small. Please help

10.

Tagging for reach not sure who all to tag just gonna copy some I've seen on other fundraiser posts

@appsa @90-ghost @timetravellingkitty @aces-and-anime @deepspaceboytoy @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @commissions4aid-international @kyra45-helping-others @athetos @ankle-beez @rhubarbspring

#Palestine #gaza #free Palestine #gofundme #boost #endisraelsgenocide

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icomeandg0 · 1 month ago

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can you do a story about all the links with their readers from their times like in ur most recent story reacting to their reader getting hurt or if they get married or smth both is ok aswell

My first request!

Thank you Anon for sending me this request, I'll gladly write the links reacting to their readers getting hurt!

First Trio:

Time, Warriors, Twilight

Content under cut:

Time:

It was a nice day.

However…

The girls were at the nearby springs to freshen up after a few days. Unlike the boys who could last a few weeks...maybe a few months at max without showering they needed to get out and wash themselves.

But they encountered a few monsters that they were confident in beating which turned in to a horde, monster after monster, they wouldn't stop coming!

"Where the hell did they all come from?" SSy/n uses her bow to get rid of a few that were surrounding the others, "This is insane!" FSY/n exclaimed "Yeah? It would be nice if SOMEONE could jump in and help!" BOTWY/n growled as she uses her weapon to eliminate a Bokoblin.

"You know I can't fight!" FSY/n huffed as she stood behind SSY/n at a good few feet away. "I think the WITCH can use her magic to eliminate the ratchet creatures!" "It doesn't work like that. I just used a big spell recently, I need to recharge" HWY/n uses her mace to hit another Bokoblin that exploded into purple smoke immediately. "How long do you need to recharge for?!”

“Ugh, it’s gonna take a few more hours.”

“It’s already been 2 days since! You’re just using this as an excuse so we have to suffer!” FSY/n protested

“Someone lead the monsters to her.” HWY/n huffed as she dodged more of the Bokoblins attacks. “How dare you say that—AH! ARROW INCOMING!” FSY/n yanks SSY/n in front of her as a shield as SSY/n was in mid shot.

SSY/n let go of the string to the bow accidentally aiming it at OOTY/n.

“ARGH!”

OOTY/n holds her side, immediately regretting it as she touches the arrow that’s stuck in her side. BOTWY/n looks at TPY/n with a knowing look which causes TPY/n to nod and run into the forest. “Someone cover her!” FSY/n yells out, still hiding behind SSY/n. LTTPY/n was quick to act and immediately went to get in front of the older Y/n but it wasn’t too long before the dragon arrived.

The monsters shriek at the sight of the scaly beast and are about to flee but D/N pulls her head back a bit before letting out a powerful flamethrower-like move. Majority if not all monsters were eliminated from sight, “Nice one!” LOZY/n gave a thumbs up to the dragon who huffed proudly, smoke coming out of her snout.

“Ugh, I swear I’m fine. I just need to pull it out” OOTY/n says, trying to assure everyone so they wouldn’t panic. “No, not here. If you pull it out, you may bleed out and we have no equipment on us…surprisingly” HWY/n looked over to LTTPY/n who looked away, “Well…If I would’ve known we would get hurt I would have brought my bag”

“Okay, so what now?” WWY/n asked, “Doesn’t one of the boys know healing magic?” “Oh, Hyrule?” LOZY/n asked, earning a pat on the head from BOTWY/n with a knowing smile. “Yeah, whatever his name was. We’ll get you to him” HWY/n suggested. “Alright, just promise me one thing. Make sure Time doesn’t find out I was hurt” OOTY/n sighs “Why? Shouldn’t he know since you two are close friends?” LOZY/n asked cluelessly. “Oh hun, trust me. It’s best if he doesn’t find out” OOTY/n warned lightly, BOTWY/n was going to push it but HWY/n spoke. “Alright, let’s get her back to camp. Keep it on the down low” Everyone nods in agreement.

“You can change back” HWY/n points to D/N who huffed, walking back into the forest.

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Every boy was scattered, however no Time in sight so they rushed OOTY/n into the nearby tent, however it didn’t slip past Legend who had his eyes on them since the start. “Psst, Wild.” Legend caught the attention of the cook who was cutting up veggies. Legend tilts his head over to the tent, “Check it out” Wild really didn’t want to but seeing BOTWY/n repeatedly looking in the tent made him curious.

Wild settles the knife down before walking over to her, “What’s going on?” BOTWY/n turns to him, “Ah! Well…” BOTWY/n moves out the way for Wild to look, he peeks inside to see OOTY/n with an arrow pretty deep in her side. “Are you Hyrule?” OOTY/n tilts her head. Wild pops his head out of view and looks at BOTWY/n with a curious and worried gaze, “What happened?” “Uh, I’ll explain that later. Where’s Hyrule anyway?” “He’s helping with Time” BOTWY/n looks defeated, “Of course he is”

BOTWY/n turns to the others in the tent, “Bad news, Healer is with Time” “So? Go get him!” FSY/n says her brows furrowed, “I can't, genius. If one of us goes then he’ll probably think we’ve all returned and try to find OOTY/n!” “So get him to go” FSY/n pointed to Wild who was taken aback because he was caught off guard. “Uh, Me?” “Yeah! So you better start running, go now!” FSY/n says “Can you go get him, please is what she meant to say” Wild sighs and nods.

Wild walks further, trying to spot Hyrule at least but he finds the pair. Time snaps his head towards the sound of the footsteps, his long ears twitching just slightly. “Hey…Old man, can I borrow Hyrule for a sec?” Hyrule perked up curiously, Time looked between the two before shrugging. “Go ahead” Wild nods, trying his hardest to remain calm. Hyrule got up and walked towards Wild about to ask what he needed but Wild rushed him away quickly. “Wild.” Time called out, making Wild tense and looking at him. “Have the girls returned yet? They’re taking a long while ""A-ah, I’m sure they’ll be on their way! You know how girls can be!” Wild smiles awkwardly and before Time could continue Wild rushes Hyrule back to camp.

“What’s going on?” Hyrule asked, “Just, go in there” Wild points to the tent. Hyrule opened the flap of the tent and his eyes widened at the amount of people inside the small place. “Oh hello, Are you Hyrule?” OOTY/n smiles softly despite the arrow still deep in her side. “Ah-yeah, That’s me” Hyrule nods timidly. “That’s great, mind pulling this out nicely for me?” She grins as she points to the arrow.

“Uh–sure! Let me see what I can do” Hyrule nods as he crouches down near.

However the problem wasn’t OOTY/n with the arrow…instead it was Time who was lurking around, sensing the atmosphere was off around the camp. He glances around…everything was in place, too in place.

“Rancher. Have you seen Wild?” “Wild? Haven’t seen him in a bit but if I had to guess he would be cooking up something or out doing trouble” Twilight suggested which earned a grunt from Time who walked past.

Stopping in front of the cutting board where Wild was just before he looks around…eyes landing on Legend.

“Vet? Have you seen Wild?” Time asked firmly which earned a small shrug, his points to the tent nearby.

“Girls are back, Wild rushed Hyrule in that nearby tent—“ With no time to waste, Time walked over to the tent with a stern expression.

Why were they all back? No one told him so? OOTY/n would always come to find him…

“ARGH!” A sharp cry came from the tent which sounded an awful lot like OOTY/n. He yanked the opening of the tent open to reveal Hyrule wrapping OOTY/n’s waist as the blood began to leak through already.

“What happened?!” Time came forth and kneeled in front of her, hands just hovering over her wound.

“Time, Questions can be asked later” HWY/n comments as she settles her hand on his shoulder, he takes a second before he groans. “Fine, I expect answers after” Time holds OOTY/n’s hand which made her sigh.

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Hyrule finishes with his healing and he sighs. “There, it should be good now.” Hyrule says, scratching the back of his head. “Thank you, you were a big help” OOTY/n reaches over and pats his head causing him to grow flustered.

“Better give those two some space” FSY/n stands up and it doesn't take long for her to leave. “No, no. You can stay—“ “Yes, leave.” Time cuts through.

Soon it was just the two of them and OOTY/n was internally whining…knowing how her Link is, especially when she gets hurt and he isn’t aware.

“I knew I should’ve come—“ “And watch us bathe? Now that’s a new low” OOTY/n tries to lighten up the mood but she receives a disappointed look, she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Okay, okay…sorry”

“You don’t take things seriously, that arrow was deep in your side. It could have been worse and I wouldn’t have been there to protect you.” He gently cups OOTY/n’s cheek with his calloused hand. She nuzzles into the rough skin slightly before sighing, “You worry too much, It’s like you don’t trust me to make my own decisions.” “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just I don’t want to see you get hurt when I should be the one by your side, the one to protect you always.”

“Sometimes you aren’t there–” “And that’s when I worry the most” Time cuts her off making her huff, she grabs his face which startles him and brings him closer. “Oh will you just stop that?! I’ll have you know I’m strong by myself but I also have others by my side. One of them fought in the war with heels and that’s something” She points out earning a slight chuckle from him.

“See? You should keep smiling, keep having a stern face and you’ll get wrinkles” She grins which earned her a sour expression from Time, “Oh stop that face!” She pokes his cheeks trying to make him smile but he makes it look like he’s straining. He wraps his arm around just above your wound and pulls you down on top of him causing you to squeal from being yanked down onto his armor chestplate.

“By the three–Take this off sometimes geez!” “No can do, I need it to protect myself…Maybe I’ll let you borrow it sometime, it’s clear you need it” he grazes his fingers across the wound making you flinch, you smack his chest plate and immediately regret it afterwards. “See? Protected.” “Oh you cheeky bastard.”

Twilight.

Well this wasn’t supposed to happen.

These monster’s were really starting to piss him off.

Coming out of nowhere and attacking? It’s crazy!

Of course he wasn’t seen on the battlefield but Wolfie was there, Mauling each monster in his way will definitely leave a bad taste in his mouth afterwards but he’ll deal with that later. He needed to make sure everyone was okay and no one got hurt.

Especially TPY/n.

He wasn’t about to let anyone get hurt but he had to make sure TPY/n wasn’t going to get seriously hurt.

“Ugh, can we catch a rest?!” FSY/n was on top of a rock, dodging at the rocks being thrown at her, “I think you’re having it easy up there!” BOTWY/n was wrestling with a bokoblin since she had misplaced her mace earlier.

“Maybe pick up a weapon and you won’t be struggling as much!” Wild teased as he went to slash at the monster…resulting in his sword breaking. “Crap.” He muttered, someone internally screaming in the background.

‘Kids…’ Twilight grumbled as he jumped from monster to monster.

He looked around just as everything cleared up, he couldn’t seem to find TPY/n. With his snout he sniffed the air to try and find her scent, he smelt that familiar scent with a hint of blood. He follows the scent, “Wolfie's got something!” Wind follows the wolf who was racing towards the forest, hopping over the bush and losing Wolfie Wind huffed. “I lost the wolf!”

‘Wolfie’ looked around before shifting back. Twilight sighed and looked around the place, The dense trees and everything wasn’t helping but he pushed forwards, determined to find TPY/n. He heard a twig snap and he whipped his head around to see TPY/n limping back toward camp, Twilight walks behind her and catches her by the waist.

“Hey, How’d you wonder all the way over here?” Twilight smiles at her despite her alarmed gaze, it softened after a bit as she sighed. “Had to get away quickly, but they followed me! They did a number on my arm.” She shows him a large cut caused by the claws of the Lizalfos, Twilight’s brows furrow as he looks at the cut, “That’s no good. Let’s get you back to the others” With no hesitation, Twilight swooped her off her feet and carried her bridal style.

“W-woah! Hey!”

“By the three goddesses, are you kidding?” FSY/n huffed as she looked at the cut on TPY/n’s arm. “Luckily, it’s not a very deep cut but it’s best to keep it clean to prevent it from getting infected or irritated.” HWY/n analysed the cut, Hyrule perked up. “I’ll get some stuff” Hyrule raced towards the nearby tent. “Huh? Oh alright then” HWY/n nods, awaiting for Hyrule to come back.

As everyone was distracted, Twilight sat beside TPY/n who was waiting patiently. “Does it hurt?” “Not really, It did sting earlier but it died down now so it’s fine” TPY/n informed “No need to worry, alright?” He nods but sighs, “I still can’t help it though. Just knowing that you were in any danger makes me worried. Just promise me you'll be careful next time or you'll always come find me." TPY/n only smiles. "Alright, I promise"

“Goddesses, They really have no shame with being like this when we’re around” FSY/n scowled at the sight of them, “You’re starting to sound jealous” Four shrugged “Am not!”

“I wonder if she knows we can hear her,” Twilight grins. “Oh she doesn’t, Trust me”

Warriors.

HWY/n was separated from the others, during a cave exploration you’d think everyone would stick with one another–Nope.

A rock slide which ended up with just HWY/n falling down and spraining her ankle, sucks to have no magic right now, nor have anyone around. It was eerie, quiet and unsettling. HWY/n grunts as she takes off her boot which reveals a bruise forming around the ankle. “Just great.” She sighs as she shuffles over and leans against the pile of rock as she alleviates her foot by putting in on top of a rock.

15 minutes went by and HWY/n was sure they had forgotten her—how rude! She was thinking of a way to get out, she can walk her sprained ankle off but she doesn’t want to. She can wait out for her magic to recharge and she can teleport herself out or..something useful to get her out!

She hears footsteps coming her way, ‘goddesses why now!’ She thought as she lifted up a nearby rock for protection but she just saw Warriors.

“Oh, it’s just you, Knight” HWY/n lowered the rock as he approached her, dropping his weapons to the ground gently and analysed the sprain.

“It’s only sprained, it’ll be fine—“

“We need Hyrule to heal this, you’ll be off your feet for the rest of the day…Let me carry you!-”

“Now just hang on, Knight! You don’t get to decide what happens to me…Where are the others? Did you leave them behind?” HWY/n looked behind him while he grew silent. She huffed “You left them behind, didn’t you?” “Well, You fell and no one was doing anything and I had to make sure you were safe, okay?” “How’d you even get down here in the first place?” He looked around awkwardly and cleared his throat, still not looking at her. “I jumped down a hole…”

“You haven’t changed, reckless, Impulsive and Selfless.” She scolds him. “It doesn’t matter, You’re hurt.” “I’ll walk it off” “Absolutely not! Geez can you just let me do this?” Warriors inspected her ankle as if it were broken. “Mild sprain, Doesn’t need immediate attention” “I knew that..” He lowers her ankle and reaches into his pocket to grab out a roll of bandages. “Oh aren’t you full of surprises?” She teases, he ignores her comment and rolls out the bandage until it’s fully out. He began to wrap it around her ankle efficiently which made her a tad surprised. “Huh, So you know how to bandage now?” “Learned from a certain witch who would scold me for every wound” He chuckled lightly at the oddly fond memories of HWY/n wrapping his wounds after every battle.

“Still needs work, It’s a bit loose” “Oh hush, at least you’ve been tended to” He snapped back playfully, comfortable with the small banter. Warriors sit down next to her as they rest against the pile of rocks, “They shouldn’t be too far away” HWY/n looks over to him before resting her head against his shoulder. “Hopefully it takes a bit” Warriors cheeks flush and he stiffens a bit, he was glad that HWY/n couldn’t see his face or else it would be an endless tease from her.

“Yeah, hopefully…”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Okay, I swear there was no favouritism! I just had a good idea for Time's part but it ended up being a whole story compared to the others...

I'm on study leave and I have exams coming up, sorry for such a long break because I was on holiday but I'm going to be focusing on studying while writing because Writing is a way for me to rewind and relax.

Anyways! Everyone stays hydrated and safe!

#linked universe x reader #lu x reader #link x reader #x reader #lu time #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu chain #MIC'S Writing #Scenarios

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lunajay33 · 1 month ago

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Change Part.11

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.10

•Masterlist•

Daryl’s Pov

I don’t know how to fix this, how to make her fell okay again, she was always my light the one that made everything okay but when the world went to shit I slowly saw that spark die and now……she gotten so bad her brain shut off everything we ever shared

I see her struggle, see how she wants to remember so badly how she looks at me and wants nothing more than to be in my arms but it was holding her back all our growth together gone, but I’ll never give up on her….never

After the incident with Sophia I’ve been around more, thankfully she was in the house when all the walkers came out of the barn but it still felt wrong to lie to her but it was best for her and the baby

As I was sitting sharpening the heads of my arrows I heard her call out my name as she made her way through the field as the sun was setting

“Daryl!! I’ve got something for you!” I could hear the excitement in her voice which was rare now a days, I stood up ready to greet her when I heard her scream, grabbing my bow I ran to the field

“DARYL HELP ME” that scream tore something deep in me

Normal Pov

I had made a necklace for Daryl out of an old arrow pendant I had found in one of the greenes family sheds, Maggie said I could have it so I put it on a chain for Daryl, I finished it and made my way through the field to our tent seeing him sat infront of the fire, too excited I called out to him until something gripped my ankle and dragged me down, turning I see the most horrific grotesque being I’ve ever seen

It’s jaws snapping inches from my face using the strength I had left to keep it from biting still screaming for Daryl….anyone to help me

Soon an arrow was pierced through its head and it went limp as I pushed it off of me, crying I scurried back into Daryl’s arms

“Oh god….daryl what was that I……I can’t breath” I said panicking

“Hey yer okay, it didn’t bite ya did it?”

“What? No it didn’t what’s going on what is it D?” I asked gripping his arms

“It’s a walker, it’s what I’ve been trying to protect ya from, one bite and yer one of em”

“Is this why we can’t go home?”

“Ya Angel, this is why”

We walked back to our tent but for some reason finally knowing took that weight off of me, curling up next to the fire Daryl holds me close with a blanket over us

“Do you think we’ll have a home again? Where we can start over?”

“I hope so, I’ll do what I can fer ya and the baby”

“As long as I have you daryl just…..just don’t leave me”

“I ain’t going nowhere sunshine”

“You know there is one upside to my memory lose”

“And what’s that princess” he laughed as he squeezed me closer

“I get to have all these new experiences and feelings for you, like the first time we kissed and the first time you held me at night, I get to fall in love with you all over again, that’s how amazing you are to me Daryl, you’re my soulmate”

“Come on woman getting all sappy on me” he said before kissing my cheek

“I’m serious Daryl”

“Ya make me fall in love with ya over and over every day, I don’t need amnesia fer that” my heart warmed at his words

“Oh that reminds me, got something for you” I said holding up the necklace infront of him

“Ya made this fer me?”

“Thought you deserved a gift for having to put up with all my mess lately”

“Yer hilarious woman” he scoffed as he placed it around his neck

It’s been a week since the incident and Daryl told me all about why he’s been going out to the forest and what happened with the barn, it was hard to come to grips with at first but knowing I had Daryl eased my worries

I’m now 5 months pregnant and everyone now knew and they were all supportive except one….Andrea

She wasn’t to excited about having to deal with a child in this world and she usually voiced it to me, I was sitting around the camp taking a break from helping Lori and Carol with laundry eating a peach Daryl had brought back to me from one of his hunts, savouring in the flavour of the sweet peach Andrea walks by scoffing

“Excuse me?” I ask confused after I swallow my bite

“The usual, just you sitting on your ass while we all do the work around here” I was taken aback I always helped any way I could around here

“She was just taking a break Andrea, she’s pregnant” Carol said on my behalf

“Ya and she always has an excuse first it’s pregnant then she has amnesia, do you really have memory loss or just want attention?”

“Ya better watch yer mouth” Daryl growled as he came up from the field behind me

“And now she has her guard dog”

“Andrea leave her alone” Lori sighed obviously sick of Andrea too

“I’m trying my best here, I’m still getting my memories back” I said feeling Daryl’s hand sooth my lower back

“Ya ain’t got no right sayin she ain’t doing stuff, ya sit up on the trailer all day doin jack shit”

“I’m protecting the camp” she was fuming now

“Ya the side of my head would say other wise” she didn’t have anything else to say and stormed off

I sighed leaning back into Daryl as he wrapped his arm around my hip leading us back to our tent

“Don’t listen to her, ya know how much ya help out she’s just pissy because she ain’t as stunning as ya”

“Oh stop” I laugh gently pushing his arm

“How bought ya let me cheer ya up” he grinned with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes

“And how would you do that Mr.Dixon”

“Come on sunshine” he grinned taking my hand and guiding me back to our tent, when we got inside it was all decorated, in a Daryl way

“What’s all this my love?” I asked feeling like my heart was going to explode

“Something to cheer ya up angel” he helped me sat down as he started handing me the presents

“Got ya a pink night dress cause I know ya loved them and might be more comfortable than ma old shirt” it was silky pink with a frilly white hem on the bottom

“Daryl i love your shirts smells just like you but i am in love with this nightie!” I squeak in excitement

“Found some baby clothes, ya always use ta say how ya wanted cute clothes fer her” he showed me little pink baby socks with a matching hat for when it gets cold, and a few white jumpers with pink heart and bows

“And lastly I got lucky, found ya a camera”

“Come on Daryl just one photo” I whined as I straddled him on our bed as he groaned pushing the camera away

“Yer crazy woman I ain’t takin no photos”

“But I want the memories, how about if you let me take this one, just one photo of you…..you can take naked photos of me and keep them for when I’m not home”

“Ya got yerself a deal angel” he laughed excited

Spending the rest of the night taking photos in every position he wanted

The memory coursed through my mind making me laugh

“What’s so funny baby?”

“Well Mr.dixon, I think you might have some different motivations for this camera, some rather naked reasons” his face flushed with red like a school girl

“Ya had ta remember that” he finally smiled as he pulled me into his lap

“How about he try it out…..right now”

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @shadowrose13-blog1 @absssposts @writer-ann-artist @dgeckobones @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove @minnie-min @severelykinky @mordilwen-of-mirkwood

#twd fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #twd x reader #daryl dixon #twd fluff #daryl dixon x reader #twd negan #twd rick #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl dixon series #twd fic #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl

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skylarsblue · 8 months ago

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★Sugar Cube★

★Red Dead Redemption★ ★Fem!Reader cause I was having a fem! day, use of Y/N(sorry), fluff, a tiny bit of hurt/comfort at the end, silly drunk Arthur at the start, I don't think there's sexual tension here but I could be wrong. The autism has overtaken me and he is all I think about, the depression wave is only kept at bay by this man.★ ★The border in the story is @fairytopea 's, if you'd like me to remove it I will :3★

The world rocked back and forth, a haze over the rolling fields of grass. Arthur slumped his head down a bit, looking at trees passing by. He had to be running, he was pretty sure walking didn’t make the world move so fast. This speed was extraordinary! Since when could he run so fast? He used to be quick in his youth, but nearing forty, his knees had really aged poorly. But here he was, zipping down a dirt road with agility, wind blowing past his face. With such grace too. Then, suddenly a bump, and he felt himself tilt dramatically to the side. Two long blinks and horse hooves hitting the ground came to his ears. He looked forward, seeing his trusty steed he’d been bonding with the past week dodging a tree to continue up the path. Arthur groaned a little and pulled himself right, then he leaned forward, weighed down by his own head. It was bumpy, but he rested his cheek on the horse’s neck, humming in a moment of peace when feeling the horse’s fur rubbed against his stubble. It was soft and warm. He always liked that about horses.

“Heheh, nice horsey.” He slurred, patting the horse’s side. It snorted, slowing down to a prance as the trees became thicker. Arthur continued petting the horse’s fur when it occurred to him that he was saying ‘it’. “Ah you’re not some random horse. Nah nah, I named you, right? Uh…what was it…” He mumbled, looking at the light brown color of the Clydesdale horse. A dusty color. Arthur gasped, a bit choked by his own saliva. “Dusty! That’s what I named ya! Ahh, Dusty you’re the best horse this side o’ the country.” He laid against her again, listening to her snort again, which made him let out a fit of giggles. Deep, short laughs that erupted from his chest. He looked around at the trees, and despite his fuzzy brain, he was able to pick out a landmark.

“Buh, camp. They're gonna make me go do some…stupid…tedious chore or somethin’.” The honey-brown haired man pouted. He huffed out a breath as Dusty went under a broken, spiky tree, approaching a lantern lit spot full of tents. The sun was setting. Dusty stomped past the horse ties and more toward the middle of the camp, catching the attention of some of the gang.

“Arthur Morgan, what the hell are you doin’?!”

Arthur winced at the shrill yell. He blinked slowly, looking in its direction, finding Miss O’Shea stood with her hands situated on her hips and a scowl ever present. He sat up slowly, hands grabbing the saddle so he wouldn’t fall, given how wobbly he was. “Heeyyy, Miss O’Sheaaa. Evenin’.” He nodded, though his head didn’t really come up afterward. The woman scoffed and tossed her hands up in exasperation, falling back to her sides with a smack sound. Lenny snickered from his place at the table. “You have fun at the saloon, Morgan?!” Javiar shouted to him. The man nodded again. The men laughed as O’Shea yelled for him to get down. He almost did until she called him a moron.

“‘Ey! I ain’t no moron! I’m quite smart, I’ll have you know.” He pointed, only for the loss of a stability point to send him leaning forward again. Dusty brayed as he landed against her neck once more. Arthur heard some more laughs from the picnic table but he didn’t open his eyes again. “Arthur Morgan, get your sorry ass off the horse.” She said again, and Arthur replied with a discontent grunt. “‘er name is Dusty, first o’ all. And two, no. Cause you called me a moron.” He replied defiantly, ending his sentence with a small hiccup. O’Shea blinked in awe at the utter sass as Arthur flipped his head over to keep from looking at her.

“Dutch, will you get your boy?” She motioned at the horse. Dutch chuckled around his cigar and held up his hands. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me? He’s a brat when he’s drunk.” He shrugged.

“Who’s drunk?” A sweetened voice asked. Walking around a tent with a bucket of water settled on her hip. “Arthur’s bein’ a brat.” Miss O’Shea huffed. Y/N set the bucket down and looked toward the horse, watching the rough and steely outlaw hum a tune while petting his companion, giggling quietly to himself when Dusty stamped a hoof into the ground and huffed. She laughed quietly behind her hand, watching him hug Dusty and mutter slurred praises. “Ah, I see, he’s drunk.” She nodded. “Drunk and ornery. We need him somewhat put together by tomorrow, so he needs to sleep this off, but the moron won’t get off the damn horse!” O’Shea shouted back at him. “Dusty!” He called back, more concerned about the respect to his horse than himself. Y/N giggled and shook her head. “You’re never gonna get him to listen with all that hollerin’. The way to get a stubborn boy to listen is to sweet talk’im. Lemme try.” She patted O’Shea on the shoulder before walking up to the Clydesdale.

“Arthur, hun, can ya look at me?” She asked. In an instant, he turned his head to look at her, and a goofy grin appeared across his face. “Heyyy, how’re you?” He asked. Y/N smiled up at him, feeling a sense of fondness bursting in her chest. She’d always been fond of Arthur, perhaps to the point of blatant favoritism. She didn’t really hide it either. While she might’ve been generally kind and helpful to the gang as a whole, it wasn’t hard to see when she gave him special treatment. When washing or fixing clothes, she’d take his without him asking, while she’d put up some resistance with the rest. When a petty argument broke out between him and someone else, she’d only really get onto the other party for saying something untoward, while Arthur’d get something half-heartedly scolding. “Let’s try to keep the peace, m’kay? Why don’t’cha go sit down and relax?” While someone like Micha got chewed up like a dog with a bone. Though, honestly, Micha probably had it coming most of the time.

She never outright denied her general adoration for the man, though she never explained it either. Maybe it was because he’d been the one to find her, help her out of the mess she’d been in. Or maybe it was because he was so helpful to her, to everyone. Or, perhaps, she just thought he was pretty. Could’ve been all of the above, really.

“I’m doin’ fine. You look like you could be doin’ better.” Y/N replied. He waved a hand with a light-hearted scoff. “Nah I’m fiiinne.” He went to get off the horse, dismounting with a wobble. He held his hands out in front of him to catch himself, and she readied to catch him if he went backwards instead, even if he was probably too heavy for her to carry. Thankfully, he stood upright, and pivoted with a smile. “See? Fine.” He said, as if he’d actually proven something. Y/N tilted her head and fought off some giggles, unlike the men at the table watching it all. “Sure, Arthur. How bout we get you lied down, hm?” She suggested, gently resting her hand on his arm to help keep him steady. Arthur shook his head and waved his hand dismissively again.

“Naaah nah, y’all got work to finish, I should help.” He said. Y/N sighed, her free hand coming to rest on her hip. O’Shea rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I told you. Ain’t got no sense when he’s drunk.” The woman complained. Y/N held up a hand, silently telling her to settle down and give her a moment. If there was one thing Arthur was, it was a real bitter life. All iron and blood-soaked palms, tarnished leather and black coffee. It was how he’d been raised, and while it wasn’t something he’d grown to dislike, something being familiar didn’t necessarily make it pleasant. Y/N had seen peeks of something softer.

How tender his voice was when calming a horse, or how careful his lines were when he sketched a landscape, and how gentle his gaze got when left with a moment of peace. All these little moments of softness to help some part of him to stay alive, keep himself from turning into nothing but a selfish, shallow husk. But keeping it alive on his own had to be tough. Y/N had always been the caring type, even when it got her into dangerous situations. She’d grown less naive, but not less sensitive, and that need to let life flourish was something she held onto dearly. Be it a garden or a man who probably hadn’t had a hug in Lord knows how long.

“I think it’s real nice you wanna help, but ain’t you been doin’ a lot recently?” Y/N asked. Her voice was softer, sweeter, and it caught Arthur’s attention almost immediately. “Uh, well…” He trailed off and leaned into her hand, now giving a gentle squeeze to the tense muscle of his shoulder. “All that runnin’ ‘round, pickin’ up the slack. All kinds of stuff you barely got thanked for. Don’t’cha deserve a little rest? Even just a nap?” She asked. His shoulders loosened the more she spoke, like he was being lulled to sleep with a lullaby.

The blue eyed man hummed quietly, then began to nod slowly. “Yeah…Yeah I do a lot, don’t I? I guess a lil rest wouldn’t hurt.” He mumbled. Y/N smiled and slid her hand down to his, holding it carefully, despite the rough calluses and scars. With a cautious pull, she began to lead him, stumbling toward his tent. “I think you’re exactly right. So why don’t we get you situated for bed, hm? Maybe I’ll talk Dutch into gettin’ you some extra hours in the mornin’.” She said. With a look over her shoulder, she grinned proudly at the onlookers. That being the boys at the table, Dutch, and Miss O’Shea. All either with smiles of their own or agape mouths. She snickered before turning her attention back to Arthur, helping him duck into his tent and meander up to his cot.

He sat down with a grunt. “There ya go, ain’t that nicer than standin’?” She asked, reaching to remove his hat from his head. Arthur gave a noncommittal noise back, blinking slowly, trying to remove the haze in his vision. He was very sleepy all of a sudden, and his limbs felt oddly heavy. After dusting some dirt from his hat and setting it down, she pushed the strands of hair that’d fallen in his face out of the way. His hair had grown a bit, starting to reach the lower part of his neck. He let out a shaky exhale when her nails dragged over his scalp, and the sound brought a sorrowful feeling to her heart. It was something so small and quick, and yet it had such an effect. She hesitated to pull her hand back, playing it off as her fixing his hair a bit more as he fought to stay awake. “How bout we get you ready for bed, hm?” Y/N whispered. He peeked up at her, eyelids heavy and barely open to gaze at her features. Even in the dark her face made him feel warm, fuzzy, much like the alcohol he’d imbibed. He gave her a slow nod, yawning as she untied the handkerchief from around his neck. He helped the best he could, using the toe of his right boot to kick off the left one, then repeated the process for the other one. “Think you can manage your belt, hun?” She asked. He looked down at the golden buckle, as if actually considering if he could manage it, before he nodded and gave an affirmative grunt. She laughed under her breath as he struggled for a moment, picking up his boots in order to move them aside, lest he trip over them in the morning.

He managed, with a mild struggle, to get his belt undone and off. She took it from him and set it aside, being sure to remove his gun. He always kept it beside his bed or under his pillow, and she was going to honor that personal rule. “You need anything else, sweetheart?” Y/N asked, approaching him once again. She stood in front of him, close enough to touch, though his hands remained in his lap. She was dimly lit by a burning lantern in the far corner, running low on oil. His head felt heavy, but he forced his chin upward to look at her more. He opened his mouth, though words didn’t leave it. She smiled so sweetly, tucking his bangs back, watching him melt under it.

“Poor thing, all rusty steel and splitterin’ wood, ain’t no one takin’ care of you. You gotta be exhausted.” She said, letting his chin fall into her palm, supporting the weight for him, much to his endearment. He closed his eyes as she stroked his cheek with her thumb, undeterred by the roughness of his stubble. “Ain’t ever been rich enough for sugar.” He grumbled, words still a bit garbled, tongue tied from liquor. She clicked her tongue sympathetically. He unintentionally leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest on her sternum. She shifted her positioning for him to be more comfortable, hands coming up to the back of his head and neck. He just about groaned when she lightly scratched his scalp, and oh how delighted she felt at it. Though how much he’d been deprived of this hurt her heart, the fact he was letting her make up for it felt all the nicer. She’d take bittersweet as a middle ground.

“Arthur.” She cooed his name, getting a grunt in response. She moved her hands to help him tilt his head up to look at her, met with a sleepy gaze, black pupils overtaking the blue she’d come to favor. “Tell ya what,” She began. “Whenever you get sick of the bitter world, and you want a little break, you come tell me. You can get all the sugar ya want, ‘kay? Everyone deserves a little sweetness here and there.” She offered. He stared at her, limp in relaxation. He hummed. “Ya sure?” He asked, feeling her gently guide him off of her and down to the bed. She propped his head on the pillow, putting his hands over his torso. “Mhm, absolutely positive.” She affirmed, covering him with the quilt rolled up at the end of the bed. She gave him another scratch to his temple, seeing as he liked it so much. His eyes fluttered closed, sighing. “Mm, alrighty, I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied, words hushed. “Good, now get some rest, cowboy. You’re gonna need it.” She cooed again. He was out quickly, allowing her to admire him for a moment. He was plastered, she doubted he’d remember any of the conversation they’d just had. But she wouldn’t mind repeating it to him anyway, since she meant it wholeheartedly. Perhaps a little selfishly, she pecked his forehead before leaving his tent, not missing the unconscious smile it got from him.

He hadn’t forgotten. Not the core parts of the night, anyway. Even when he’d woken up with a blasting headache thumping behind his eyes, trying to piece together everything. He remembered the majority of her words, and he couldn’t forget the feeling of her warmth, and the delicate way she spoke. And it humiliated him for the entire morning, but even when he was visibly ashamed she was sweet.

He’d sat up on his cot and put his head in his hands, grumbling to himself about how stupid he was. Flushed across his cheeks and up to his ears. Maybe if he asked John to help him, he could dig a hole and bury himself in it, the man owed him anyway. He called himself a fool, only to hear a giggle that forced his heart to a stop. With a wince, he glanced to the side between his fingers. Of course, there she stood, illuminated by the morning sun, holding a steaming cup of coffee. “A foolish decision doesn’t necessarily make a fool, Mr.Morgan. It’s several foolish decisions that make a pattern, then, that makes a fool.” She said, stepping into the tent. He slid his hands off his face and hesitantly took the cup she held out to him. She was trying to make him feel better, he knew that, and damn it worked.

“How’s your head feelin’, cowboy?” Y/N asked. He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He could feel his heartbeat in the sockets, and the sunlight certainly wasn’t helping. He heard her chuckle as he sipped at the drink. It’s warmth nothing compared to hers, and shamefully, he wished to feel the heat of her palm on his face again, sober this time. “Asked Charles to grab some tea when he and Hosea had into town today, always helped me with headaches when I had it. I’ll make you a lil if it doesn’t settle soon.” She promised. He thanked her quietly, feeling her pat his shoulder. His tongue felt like metal in his mouth, weighing down the words he needed to use. He swallowed as she pivoted to leave, and he felt his chest tighten as she did.

Y/N paused when he coughed a little too poignantly. She looked over her shoulder, finding him fidgety and shy as he looked at the ground. “Yes, Arthur?” She asked, turning to look at him again. How sweet it was when he could only manage a quick glance before his cheeks flushed again. “I uh, ahem, last night…” He started, bouncing his leg slightly. She nodded and motioned for him to continue. He took in a deep breath. “You uh, you offered uhm…” He was so bad at words, it was one of his many faults. Either he spoke before he thought, or he used the wrong word and messed up the entire sentence, or he’d choke on whatever he wanted to say and they’d get sick of waiting, making him lose an opportunity. She had patience though, and let out another breathy laugh. Fond and kind, not mocking.

“I offered you sugar, yes. I said you could ask, whenever ya wanted, and I wouldn’t mind.” Y/N reiterated. He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at the coffee in the little mug in his other hand. “So, uh, does that offer-” “It still applies when you’re sober, mister. Don’t worry.” She confirmed. Arthur swallowed. It felt like syrup, thick and encompassing, making him sluggish. He was still aware of the spiking pain in his skull, and while he knew it was his own fault, he would’ve loved relief. Even if he didn’t deserve it, to feel her nails gently pet at his head again sounded like heaven. He was a man of pride, and as mean as he could be, all rough and guarded, he still had a boyish sense of timidness when asking for something so nice. But she offered, and he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance. He’d been told before he needed to get better at knowing when he waited too long, and when he went too quick. Now, he hoped he was picking right.

“I uh…this coffee’s kinda harsh.” He held up the cup a little awkwardly. Y/N blinked before her expression softened, and he felt like ice under the heat of a fire as she walked back to him slowly. “That right?” She asked. Arthur cleared his throat and nodded. “Little harsh on the headache ‘s all.” He replied quietly. She tilted her head before her hand rose up, finding its place on his temple. With a little pressure from her thumb, she rubbed small circles, and it helped ease the ache. “So you’d prefer somethin’ a little sweeter, huh?” She asked. His shoulders loosened, and like the night before, his eyelids grew heavy. He nodded slowly, sighing when she lightly scratched at his scalp. “I got’cha.” She whispered, using both her hands to help combat the headache, even rubbing around his eyes, where it hurt the most. At this rate, he might not even need the tea she’d offered. However long she stood there, he relished all of it, the coffee growing colder by the second. When her hands finally stopped, coming to rest on his shoulders, his headache hadn’t vanished but was far more tolerable.

“How’re you feelin’?” She asked. Arthur stared up at her sleepily, face lax, and if you’d asked her, she’d say he seemed drunk again. “Better.” He confirmed. Y/N grinned, giving the muscle of his shoulder a light squeeze. Then her name was called. She winced and looked back at him. “I gotta help fix that wagon Micha’s idiotic ass broke.” She huffed, and he snickered. “I’ll be alright. Thank ya.” He replied. Y/N couldn’t stop grinning, and she was certain her expression showed her adoration, not like she was trying to hide it. “Alrighty then. Just lemme know if ya need anythin’.” She rose her hand to his hair, mussing it up this time. He groaned and went to fix it, listening to her giggle as she left the tent. He caught a glimpse of her right before she disappeared from line of sight, sighing when she was gone. He was a little too familiar with the ache he had to follow her.

“Shit.” He sighed, raising the coffee to his lips again. This time, he winced at the taste. Maybe he wasn’t as into bitterness as he thought he was.

From that day on, he progressively got more and more needy for a shot of something full of sucrose. It was subtle most of the time, mostly to avoid all the teasing the rest of the gang would undoubtedly give. But he’d started to ask even when others were around, and oh how it helped, even on the worst day.

On the third day since he’d arrived drunk off his ass, he’d muttered something about he and his horse missing sugarcubes on hard days. He’d been battered around by mother nature trying to get fish for that night’s dinner, laughed at by Javiar because a trout jumped out the damn river and smacked him in the face. Then Dusty caught sight of a snake in the grass on the way back, turned too quick, and had him slide off the side into the dirt, scraped up his elbow and dent the bill of his hat.

She’d heard him and paused what she was doing, turning to him with that gaze full of sympathy. She used her foot to pull over a stool beside her, motioning with her head for him to sit. When he did, she carried on with her task, but did her best to keep her hand somewhere on his back, caressing light circles in his shoulders as she recounted how grateful she’d been for what he’d done the past week. Unashamedly inflating his ego, and oh how it helped, having him leaning on the table as he listened to her praises.

Then a week passed and he’d gotten caught in the rain, without his horse. It’d been his fault for thinking a walk was a good idea when he knew the clouds in the distance spelled out a storm, but he’d been so sure he could’ve made it back in time. Of course, he didn’t, and he arrived back into camp soaking wet and muddied. The rain had turned to a light sprinkle but he was dripping water and scowling. He’d nearly punched Micha’s jaw off when the man took joy in his misery, until he caught sight of Y/N sewing a hole in Karen’s tights under cover. She saw his sorry state, and just like before, gave him a smile. An aura of ‘you poor thing’ that made him want to curl up in her lap. As if he wasn’t a grown man with more than a few bounties to his name.

He’d trudged over with an expression more akin to a pout than a scowl. She looked up at him as he stood, dripping water. “You know, before the storm hit, I cleaned some of your clothes. Should be dry by now. I even had some of that scented soap left, lavender.” She said. Arthur sighed and nodded, he hadn’t said it, but she knew the ‘thank you’ was in his mind. He went off to his tent, finding the clothes she was talking about laid out and ready for him. The anger that’d built up began to dwindle as he changed into them, hanging them up along with his hat before he made his way back to her.

She looked up from sewing and smiled. She grabbed the stack of clothes she was tasked with sewing and moved them aside, offering up the space beside her. He sat down close enough, their knees touched, sighing when she patted his leg. “Good job today.” She said. Three words, and it made him sink down, eased and peaceful. He muttered his gratitude and listened to her hum a tune, sound mixing with the sound of water hitting the earth.

By the second week, he’d grown accustomed to asking a little more blatantly. Asking if she had anything sweet after dinner, if she knew how much sugar cost at the shop, if she knew of anything candied to chase down the burn of some whiskey. Each time, she’d reply casually, but sneak in her tender touches and merciful gaze. She’d give him a once over and always knew just how much sugar to pour into his cup. On days where he only needed a little, she’d give him encouraging praise and a pat on the back, enough to keep his chin held high. On worse days, she’d overload it, allowing him to lean his head against her as she distracted him from his day with recountings of her own. Oh, and petting his hair, he always seemed to like that.

It’d really gotten more obvious to the gang. Leading to some teasing and hushed conversations, mostly the girls asking if they were sweet on one another. Arthur had flushed bright red, though it’d been hidden by a light sunburn, and waved his hand. Talking over them to make it clear he didn’t wanna hear it. While Y/N, mysterious as always, had shrugged with a cheeky grin and sauntered off. Really, it wasn’t hard to realize why they’d ask. Tilly said she’d seen Y/N look at him like he’d helped raise the sun every morning, Mary-Beth replied with Arthur’s pension for drawing her when he thought no one was looking. A whole page spread dedicated to her, she claimed. Though, none of them were quite foolish enough to try and nab his journal to look and confirm. But, Karen did like the sight of it. As brazen as she could be, she’d always loved romance in books, and she wouldn’t lie and say that the interactions weren’t entertaining.

She slipped her theories to Dutch when she overheard he’d be sending Arthur into a town just past Valentine to check around, see if he could find anything useful. He wasn’t sure who to send with the boy, even if Arthur was pretty capable on his own. Dutch wasn’t one for match-making, and he didn’t like meddling in romantic affairs, not when there were important things to look after. But, Arthur had been good to him, and it wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t done well with all the tasks he’d given her. He couldn’t see the harm in getting them a little alone time. Maybe it’d do Arthur some good.

Thing was, getting there was fairly easy, if you ignored the run in with some men that Dutch had pissed off half-way through. Or the mini dust storm that hit them suddenly. All of which culminated in them getting into town as the sun was setting, something that pissed Arthur off immensely, since he had stuff that needed buying. Chances were the shops would be closed by now.

“Could rob’em.” Y/N whispered as she tethered her horse outside a hotel. Arthur paused the process of rolling his sore neck to look at her, eyebrow raised. “I thought you preferred payin’ shopkeeps.” He replied. “I was kiddin’, Arthur. There are better places to rob and people more deservin’ of losin’ money.” She gently smacked his arm with a snicker. Arthur grumbled, adjusting his hat. “I’ll get the room situation handled, just see if anyone’s open.” She said. “Yes ma’am.” Arthur held up his hands, beginning to walk across the street. “And I mean it! Pay fairly!” She shouted to him whilst she made her way to the hotel door, getting a hand wave in response.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The man behind the counter greeted her. An older man with a thick handlebar mustache. “Evenin’. What’s the price of a room, sir?” She asked. “Two beds is five dollars a night, a single is two dollars.” He replied. Y/N winced and considered her options for a moment. She imagined Arthur wasn’t too picky, but she worried maybe it’d be a little uncomfortable. But, if he really did feel that way, she could simply sleep in a chair. She shook off her worries and nodded. “A single then, please.” She replied, getting a nod. She grabbed her money as he grabbed the key. “Ah, do you have baths? How much do they cost?”

“About 25 cents, a dollar for a wash girl.” The man replied. She shook her head and slipped him forty cents. “I have a friend I’m stayin’ with. His name’s Arthur. Blue eyes, stubble, black hat, covered in dirt. Can’t miss’im.” She smiled. “If you could tell him I paid for a bath and the room, I’d appreciate it. Lord knows he’s earned it.”

The man nodded and pointed back to the bath rooms. Y/N thanked him again. She didn’t plan on staying in there long, just a quick rinse. She preferred not dragging outside into bed with her, gritty sand and dirt didn’t make for a good bed mate. She was out and set up in the room before Arthur arrived, she figured he’d found an open shop, maybe bargaining. He always said haggling was easiest when someone was tired or drunk, and it was best to strike a deal whenever possible. Just so long as you could be away fast enough before they realized how short the straw they drew was.

Her assumption was correct. Arthur managed to buy what Dutch told him too, had his bag heavier than before, weighing on his shoulder. The man bit back a wince when he raised his arm, rolling his shoulder, hoping it’d loosen the muscle. It only caused a sharp stabbing pain to pulsate from under his shoulder blade. He held his shoulder with his opposite hand and pushed into the hotel, finding the keeper about ready to leave. The man looked him over once and then gave a smile. “Arthur?” He asked, making the cowboy’s brows furrow. “Yes?” He replied suspiciously. “Young lady came in and paid for the room, and a bath. You made it just in time too, was about to close up.” The keeper explained, placing a key on the desk. Arthur picked it up and blinked. “A bath?” He asked. “She said you’d earned it. No wash girl though.” Arthur shook his head at that, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ before making his way back.

The steam that rose from the water wafted in the air and beckoned him. He would’ve been fine washing up in a river, he’d done that plenty, since warm baths were a luxury. But it never stopped being nice when he could get one. He told himself to thank Y/N when he could, feeling the warm water help ease the tension in his back. That knot in his shoulder hadn’t left though, and relaxing almost made it worse. He hissed through his teeth but tried to set it aside, enjoy what he could. But when it came time to wash his hair, he found it hard to lift his hands that high.

He had a high pain tolerance, he’d been shot and stabbed plenty of times, but that didn’t mean he liked pain. If he forced himself, he could’ve done it, but it felt like another stone thrown at him when he’d already been in a rock slide. One last little thing to mess with him, make his day a little worse. He grumbled to himself, rubbing at his shoulder again, cursing the air. He glanced up from the bubbles in the tub when he heard light steps down the hall, then a light knock at the door. He frowned and furrowed his brows. He didn’t pay for a wash girl, and given the time, they’d probably all gone anyway.

“Arthur? You in there?” Y/N’s voice spoke from the other side. His scowl turned into a mix of shock and shame. “Uh, yeah.” He said, coughing away a voice crack. He sank down a little more in the shield of bubbles when the door cracked a little, just enough for her head to poke in. “You took awhile, I was worried somethin’ happened. How long you been in here?” She asked. He shrugged. “Couple minutes.” He replied. He watched her gaze narrow, as if she was struggling to see, trying to make something out. “You ain’t washed your hair yet?” Her question made him sigh and flush pink. “Got a damn crick in my back, hurts to lift my arm. I’ll be fine, just gotta bare it.” He brushed off casually.

“Wh- Gosh, no. You don’t need to go hurtin’ yourself worse than you already are.” Without a moment of hesitation, she stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She’d gotten ready for bed, white night gown flowing around her ankles, hair undone. “I’ll wash your hair, sit up a bit.” She motioned. Arthur’s chest felt tight, like his ribs were bars and a rowdy prisoner banged against them, his heart the criminal. “I can’t ask ya to-” “You ain’t askin’, I’m offerin’, sweetheart. You’ve had a hard day, least I can do is help get all that dust out of your hair.” She cut him off, rolling back her sleeves, settling down on the stool. He swallowed. That heavy syrup sensation had returned to the back of his throat, catching words that threatened to break past the barrier of his teeth. Once she was settled behind him, she caught him staring over his shoulder, and sent him a grin.

With a motion of her hands, he sighed, lamenting. It’d been a long time since he’d felt so…boyish, immature maybe. So embarrassed by something like this. He’d had baths in rivers in plain sight of the gang, had a few wash girls do this exact job before, all that never bothered him. Why was it because of her that he felt so shy all of a sudden? He wasn’t the shy type, he didn’t think so anyway. Arthur picked at his nails under the water as she wetted his hair. She used two fingers under his chin, tilting his head back a bit so she didn’t get soap in his eyes. “Relax, Arthur. I ain’t waitin’ to tear your throat out.” She whispered, hushed words sent the hair on his arm standing up. He forced his muscles to loosen as best he could, though forcing didn’t do much good.

He stayed awkwardly stiff until he felt her fingers drag through his hair. Like she’d touched his brain directly, flipped a switch, he eased more into the bath with a sigh, leaning his head back into her palms. She bit back a quiet giggle, scrubbing lightly. “Hair’s gettin’ pretty long, you should let me trim it when we get back.” She said absentmindedly, being sure to drag her nails over his temples and behind his ears. She bit her bottom lip to fight off a laugh again when he let out a little groan from the back of his throat.

“Ya hear me?” She asked. “Huh? Oh uh, yeah, sure sure.” He replied, voice thick and low with tranquility. She kept her loving teases to herself, let him enjoy the moment, she certainly was. Maybe it was because she knew he appreciated it that it felt so fulfilling. Could’ve been that she just liked feeling useful, needed. Whatever the reason, she relished in it, taking her time. Just to make sure she got out all the muck.

Of course, she couldn’t milk it for that long. Eventually, she had to rinse out all the suds, ring out the excess water. He kept quiet but missed the treatment when she stood up. “Need anythin’ else, hun?” She asked, leaning into his line of sight. Like before, he looked up at her lazily, like he’d been floating in the clouds moments before. “Hm…no, I’m alright. Thank ya.” He nodded. She nodded back. Arthur looked back down at the bath, knowing he’d have to get out soon. He heard her step away to leave, glancing up again when she was at the door. “I’ll see you in a bit.” She said before leaving him alone once again. He stared at the door for a while, swearing the room got dimmer when she left, less warm too. He huffed and rubbed his face with his hands, slowly exhaling between his fingers. Cursing to himself.

When he left the bathroom, now in clothes from his bag, hair still damp, he meandered up the steps. His body felt heavy, and if it weren’t for the stabbing throb in his back, he’d be looking forward to dropping on the mattress. He opened the door to the room, met with a lamp on and the quiet humming of a familiar tone. He stepped in and shut the door, finding Y/N with a book in hand whilst sat upon a singular chair. He looked around the room and caught her eye once he was done surveying it. “One bed?” He asked. “It was cheaper. Figured you wouldn’t mind, but if you do, I’ll sleep right here.” She replied. Arthur scoffed. “I ain’t havin’ you sleep in a chair. I’ll sleep there-” “No ya won’t. You’ll take the bed, mister. I’m not negotiating.”

Her tone was firm and she pointed a finger to get her point across all the more strongly. Arthur let his bag slip to the floor, staring at her in disbelief, before he let out a breathy laugh. “Fine. But I’m still not havin’ you sleep in the chair.” He replied, walking to the bed in order to sit down. She tossed her hands up after marking her place in the story. “Alright, ‘suppose I can agree to that.” She laughed, only for her smile to fall when he grunted in pain. “You okay?”

He looked over at her and nodded. “Fine, just my shoulder ‘s all.” He answered. She stared at him for a moment longer, watching him tug at the collar of his shirt, trying to cool himself down. It was the height of Summer, even the nights were getting humid and uncomfortable. “Hot?” She asked. “It’s this damn shirt. Only one I had clean, but it’s made for Winter. I’d take it off but,” He motioned in her direction, much to her amusement. Crinkling her nose, she snickered and shook her head. “You act like it’s some kinda curse. You can sleep shirtless, I won’t mind. It’s not like skin’s gonna kill me, Arthur.”

“Didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable ‘s all.” He retorted. “Well I ain’t, but you certainly are. Go ‘head. It’s not problem to me, but you dyin’ of heat stroke might be.” Y/N motioned with her hand and he tapped his fingers on his knee for a moment. He muttered something before taking her advice. She did her best to remain respectful, though she caught a couple glances, nothing too distasteful. Her face fell again when he hissed about his back again, and when he tossed the shirt away, a series of pops emanated from the muscles, making her wince in his place. “You sure you’re alright?” She asked, standing up, leaving her book in the seat.

“I’ve had worse. It ain’t pleasant but I’ll live.” The man said with a light cough, rolling his neck, that too popped rather loudly. He felt her hand come up to replace his, exhaling when she applied pressure to a specific point of soreness. It hurt, but in the way a stretch in the morning did. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked at his sorry state. It always made her ache, especially if it was something she couldn’t help fix.

Arthur wasn’t a good man, she knew that. But it wasn’t like she could judge. He’d never been anything but good to her, did right by the gang as best he could too. Every day she swore he did something else that went either unnoticed or un-thanked, and that killed her. Sure, there were probably men more deserving of kindness, people who didn’t rob and shoot to survive. But she hadn’t fallen for them, hadn’t ever met a man like that of which could compare to Arthur. When God came to judge the man’s soul, she’d gladly plead his case through the bars of the pearly gates. He’d been through enough, and when her mind ran away from her into a place darker than the night, she could sense it wouldn’t be ending any time soon. That hurt to think about. To worry about an unforeseen future likely full of strife of all sorts, things she’d probably have no say in, no ability to save him from.

But she had him safe for a night. In a place with walls and locks on doors, in her sights and close enough to touch. She couldn’t fix every problem he had, but she could make this night a little easier, surely. It was the least she could do.

“You trust me?” She asked. Arthur glanced up at her, a bit confused, but he nodded. She patted his shoulder. “Gonna seem a lil awkward, but just trust me.” She motioned with her head to the mattress. “Lie on your front.” He blinked a few times rapidly, clearly more confused than he was a second prior, perhaps a bit bashful. Y/N snorted and shook her head. “Easy, cowboy. Nothin’ like that.” She reassured. Arthur tilted his head back, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he glanced her up and down. After a short staring contest, he sighed and tossed his hands up a bit, doing as he was told.

“If this is how you plan on killin’ me, I commend your patience.” He commented, cheek set on a pillow. He heard her laugh, and it helped ease the tension in the room. He knew full well she wasn’t going to hurt him, he was just talking to fill the room with something else to focus on, given how uncomfortable it felt. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what was happening. He jumped when her weight ended up around his waist. “Easy, I told you it’d be awkward, but I need you to trust me here, sweetheart.” Her voice said, patting his arm. Arthur scoffed a little. “Pardon me for bein’ caught off guard, ma’am.” He sassed, getting a light thump to the back of his head, which he complained about.

“Hush. And keep your arms down, won’t work if you’re puttin’ stress on’em.” Y/N answered. He let his arms fall, grumbling about her being bossy, before he felt the heel of her palm press against his shoulder blade. His mouth curled into a hurt scowl, inhaling between his teeth. She rubbed a slow circle and hushed him quietly, instructing him to breath. It hurt, but the muscle began to loosen. She could feel the knot of tension under the skin, clicking her tongue sympathetically, it had to hurt like hell. “Okay. I need you to follow my instruction, ‘kay? I want you to take a deep breath, all the way until you can’t fill your lungs no more.” She whispered. Arthur did as told, not really sure where it was going, but he wasn’t up for questioning.

“Good, now, exhale it all. Until your chest is completely empty. Go slow.” Her words helped make him sleepier, more relaxed, which she knew good and well. It was why she was whispering. As he pushed out the oxygen until he was straining to keep doing so, with all her weight, she pushed into his back with her palm. A loud pop sound echoed off the walls with the quick following of a loud groan into the pillow he laid on.

She lessened the pressure and rubbed his shoulder again. “Did I get it?” She asked. Arthur didn’t give words, but let out an affirmative noise, face buried in the pillow. She smiled as he seemed to sink into the mattress the more she worked out the tension. She wasn’t content at just the shoulder though, so she moved over to the other side. Using her knuckles to trace around the bones. Every now and then, she’d stumble across another little knot, working them out with dutiful care.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, Morgan?” Y/N asked after some silence, pulling at the muscle in his lower back. Once again, he simply gave a noise. She snickered when she caught a yawn he let out. When he let out an appreciative noise when she worked at his waist, she chuckled again. “See, no one realizes how much strain we put on our lower backs until you’re in a position like this.” She commented lazily. “Mhm.” He replied. Y/N couldn’t stop smiling again, her cheeks were starting to hurt. She glanced down when she felt a warm touch on her leg, finding his hand turned toward her, lightly holding her ankle. She melted as his thumb carefully caressed the bone, a silent bit of appreciation. She knew full well she couldn’t left it there, but the moment was so sweet, and not easy to come by.

He blinked slowly when she leaned over him, tapping his temple. Her weight was off of him, something that kept him from dozing off. Arthur lifted his chin, looking at her in his peripheral. “Mind flippin’ over, hun?” She asked. He yawned again, nodding slightly. He moved from his stomach to his back, too relaxed to make a cheeky comment about her sitting back down. He rubbed his eye tiredly as she picked up his opposite hand. “Ya know, if someone asked me if you were drunk right now, I’d say yes. You look like you’re gone, mister.” She teased, pressing her thumbs into his palm before dragging the pressure down his wrist. Arthur let his other hand drop down, his vision a bit hazed over. “Might be.” He mumbled, barely opening his mouth to speak.

He smiled slightly when she laughed. He felt the pull of his tendons as she pushed his hand back, cautious to not over do it. “Sorry.” He commented unconsciously, the word slipping out without much thought. Y/N looked at his face with her brows furrowed. “What for?” She questioned, moving her hand up to his bicep. He flinched when the soreness became apparent under her touch. “My hands. Ain’t too nice for holdin’ I know.” He said. “Now why would you think that, Arthur?” She asked, squeezing the muscle that connected his neck to his shoulder. He tilted his chin out of the way as he thought of how to word his answer.

“You got dainty hands, all soft and nice. Mine…mine are all scratched up and tough. ‘s gotta feel like gravel at this point.” He explained. Y/N scoffed, taking his other hand in her own to repeat the process. “Oh shush, that ain’t true. They’re a workin’ mans hands, that’s all. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with’em.” She replied. “They ain’t kind like yours either.” Arthur retorted, making her pause for a second. She shook her head with a sigh, working out the tension in his scapulae muscle. She stopped and moved her hand to his jaw instead, prompting him to look at her.

She looked inviting in the warm lamp light, accentuating the curve of her cheekbones and the color of her eyes. How warm she was, and he could smell the hint of soap. “Robbin’ or not, you’re a good man, Arthur. Maybe not all the time, but you ain’t a monster either.” She said. His face showed he wasn’t buying it. He eased further when her hand dragged up, pushing his hair back. “No I ain’t.” He whispered back. Y/N clicked her tongue and grabbed his cheeks with both her hands, leaned close and eyes intense with the need to convey her point. “Arthur Morgan, look at me.” She demanded. He listened, even if it felt difficult to do.

“I don’t care bout the law’s definition, and I’m well beyond the words of the Holy Ghost. I don’t care how many men out there hope for you to hang, and I don’t care how much blood stains those hands of yours.” She stroked his cheekbone and up beside his eye, running over the lines that had formed in his skin, brought on by years of expressions. Mainly laughter and grins, things she savored every time she saw them. “The Arthur I know is a loyal man, a workin’ man, a brother and a mentor, a leader and a guard. He fights for what needs to be done and earns his keep, and then some. Your hands might be gun wielding but they’re also caring. When you draw in that journal, or when you pet your horse, pat Jack on the back like he was your own blood.”

His eyes had widened by now and his throat felt like it was being gripped, a pressure building up and threatening to break like a damn. It was so much to take in, too much, but looking away felt like blasphemy. He might not have been a man of worship, not to God, not anymore. But to sin against her might be what damned him, and he wasn’t ready for that. He never would be.

“You might be a bad man, but you ain’t been nothin’ but good to me. Whether you like it or not, you will always be a good man to me. And I’ll be damned if I let you go a day not knowin’ it.” Y/N finished, her voice a bit choked by now. She managed to keep her tears down, but her eyes got misty nevertheless. Arthur rolled his jaw and clenched his teeth, at loss for what words to say. She fixed his hair again and sighed. “Am I clear?” She asked. He stared, fidgety, before he sat up suddenly. She felt his arms wrap around her waist tightly, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

Y/N took a moment to process before she relaxed, bringing her hands to him once again. Her cheek rested on his head, scratching his scalp, the other hand resting on his shoulder. “You haven’t answered me.” She commented. Arthur squeezed her for a moment. “Loud ‘nd clear, ma’am.” He replied, voice a bit hoarse but not any less genuine. She smiled and turned to peck him on the temple. “I’ll keep tellin’ you til it sticks. Mark my words, Arthur Morgan. I’ll keep that bitter man you think you are at bay.” She promised. He managed a choked up chuckle against the fabric of her nightgown.

“I’ll hold you to that, sugar.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption x reader #fem reader #female reader #fluff

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door-insurance · 2 months ago

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So I played Life is Strange 2 for the first time ever

I didn’t wanna play it for a long time not cause it didn’t have Chloe or max (tbh I got sick of their asses around BtS they’re not even my faves)

By that point I was in college and had lost interest in the whole franchise but also I was very apprehensive of white creatives writing racism with no input from the group they’re portraying, they don’t usually do a good job

Sometimes they make it cartoony, sometimes they trivialize it, sometimes they romanticize it

So years later adulthood kicked my ass and I came back crawling to this franchise for some comfort, I finished True colors annnnd I finally started 2 after hesitating annnnd

^sketched this while playing

SPOILERS

I actually liked it

I liked Sean, the drawing segment he does- he was such a likable main guy, deserved better honestly.

I also liked Daniel, he was very adorable and I never got it when people called him annoying like no shit the 9 year old is gonna act like a 9 year old- just don’t be a jerk to him, I know he can be frustrating but that’s what taking care of a kid is like

And lis had always been about realistic complex characters, y’all can’t handle a traumatized nine year?

I have two younger siblings and two nieces plus I’ve been a bratty younger sibling to two older sisters

Maybe I’m just used to it?? But honestly Daniel wasn’t that bad

The racism portrayal in the first few episodes was not all that cartoony and it actually felt real at times, like I can check for American news rn and find stories similar to what you see in episodes 1-3 (minus the telekinesis)

Although the gas station racist hick spouting trump slogans was a bit on the nose, it’s more of dialogue thing

Some people thought the gas station detainment was egregious but it can happen unfortunately, especially to vulnerable people in rural areas and by someone of a higher systematic advantage

One other thing I did not like was the love interests, I thought Finn and Cassidy were alright characters on their own but why do we need romance in this game where the protagonists are always on the run?

I don’t like to compare lis 1 to 2 but when it comes to the romance the former did a better job as it spent more time establishing it, plus max stayed in the same place for the majority of the game- but you know what? Sean doesn’t have to be in a relationship right? It can be a one off thing, that’s fine

Which brings me to my next point

How old are Cassidy and Finn?

Cause Sean is still 16 and no, being on the road didn’t mentally age him- he’s not “mature” for his age

He is still a kid

So for some reason Dontnod never really specified their ages but some articles described them as teens (they look 30 to me) and they can be around 18 right? Their lives are hard stress ages you- it happens, we can with live that, it’s just a two years difference

But teens or not

why did they animate a whole knocking the boots scene???

Of all the games in the series, the only one that gets a sex scene is the one with the much younger protagonist and his ambiguously aged older looking love interest and I think it’s only with Cassidy you get to do it in the tent

Alex Chen was robbed of a on screen booty call from a beanie wearing lesbian with a sexy radio voice or a buff ass Adonis of a man who was Smokey the bear’s regional manager or something

Anyways I’m gonna move on I’m uncomfortable lmao

*im not hating on people who ship Sean with either Finn or Cassidy, I’m not even tagging your ship names- im just stating my personal preferences on my blog

One last thing I did not like about LiS 2 and it was the one thing that kept me from playing it for years

That one scene from episode 4

So at this point Sean Diaz went through the following:

-lost his father, had to abandoned his loved ones, education and home

-was accused of killing a cop

-had to take care of his little brother on his own while on the run, the same brother with telekinesis and none of them know how to control it

-was harassed, beaten then detained by a racist white man

-had to take refuge in an abandoned cabin with little resources

-the dog that they adopted at the gas station eventually gets mauled

-the one time they found solace at their grandparents house they had to leave abruptly cause the police was hot on their trail

-on their way out they can potentially witness the neighbors kid that they befriended get hit by the police car that’s chasing them

-they find shelter at a nomad campground but oh no they get involved with drug trafficking cause they barely have any other options to make money (unfortunately this happens a lot IRL this isnt egregious)

-Sean now has to deal with the trafficking, making sure that Daniel doesn’t get into any trouble with his powers while fake ass giancarlo esposito is breathing down his neck

-and guess what happens next… Daniel gets robbed into pulling a heist on temu gus fring and it goes badly, Sean can potentially lose a love interest/friend in Finn

-Sean gets hurt, Daniel goes so mad that he blows the whole place up; a shard glass flies into Sean’s eye and he ends up losing it

- Sean wakes up from a coma and learns that his brother is missing and he’s about to be taken to jail

- the one thing that consistently brought him joy during this trip was his art and because of the missing eye he can’t even do it the same anymore cause it hurts now

- Sean has to escape the hospital with a hot wired car, little money and has to drive across two states just to get to his brother

-on the way he dreams of his father, he wants him back he wants his old life back but that’s not gonna happen so he has to move forward

Im not listing all this as examples of bad story telling, a lot of these are real life experiences of homeless people. im just painting a picture of the shit that Sean had went through so far

Cause right after the dream sequence, Dontnod didn’t think all that was enough no you had to see Sean get hate crimed by two lifetime movie, sitcom special of the week racists- be made to either sing or suffer a brutal beating

It added nothing to the plot, it didn’t need a choice system either- it’s a hate crime, you’re not asking Joyce for fucking pancakes or eggs n bacon at the whales diner or hosing down Lisa the fckin plant.

This to me went straight to trauma p*rn category, it’s wheelchair Chloe all over again

I hated it then in LiS 1 and I hated now in LiS 2, this is why I don’t dick ride Dontnod that often

They always had this tendency right before the end they single out a particular character and mentally whip them, they become the writing teams punching bag- they think we didn’t get it the first time that this character is going through it, they just hammer it in with the subtlety of a heart attack and I hate it

“Yeah but it’s there to show Sean’s resolve to find Daniel-“

HE ESCAPED FROM THE HOSPITAL AND THE FEDS, HE HOT WIRED A CAR TO DRIVE ACROSS TWO STATES

He’s starving, dehydrated, suffering from chronic pain

That’s enough

Let the character breathe

You ask why not a lot of people wanna play this game and I’m gonna tell you, as much I enjoyed it myself it’s not an easy game to play- it gets brutal, especially right around the end

I’m not against bleakness or extreme conflict, I’m into that but sometimes that doesn’t translate well to any gaming format- especially a choices matter game that’s meant to be replayed

Some people have asinine reasons not to play LiS 2 like it dealing with racism and those people suck, lis had always dealt with progressive themes like calling out objectification, cyberbullying and sl*tshaming

Racism shouldn’t be the exemption

but misuse of racial trauma and not knowing when it’s appropriate to invoke it is a huge turn off and hella triggering to a lot of non white players and I remember when LiS 2 dropped I’ve seen (mostly white) lis fans at the time proclaiming that not wanting to play it meant that you were racist

Like I said there were probably racists who didn’t wanna touch the games cause of the main characters skin but there were people like me who were apprehensive of the “Let’s go to the mosh pit Shaka brah” people handling racism

This is the same studio that had Ms Grant (one of the few black characters from LiS 1) claim that the white settlers peacefully shared the stolen land with the native Americans

I find that shit harder to believe than the time traveling powers

And they were doing alright in the first episodes they covered stuff like unconscious biases slipping through, dog whistles, polite racism from the grandparents segment, police brutality, racial profiling and being targeted/othered- some of these things I went through when I visited western countries

Then they did the bullshit I feared theyd do…

I really don’t blame myself for being hyper vigilant at the time and honestly I was going through a lot then, even if I wanted to I wouldn’t have touched LiS 2 cause it’s a very heavy tasking game to play

I know I kinda made it seem like I didn’t like this game but I did, its the best one in terms of the choice system

It had more weight to it, seeing Daniel internalizing what you say to him or how you act around him was so cool

Also what the second game has over the first one aside from the choices system is the ending selection- I never liked picking the endings for max, I wanted her to pick the ending or her coding/script to do that

Its definitely more fleshed out technically even though LiS 1 has a special place in my heart it’s always gonna be no. 1- but im also glad that I got to experience the 2nd game for the first time, I liked it

Personal lis ranking

1: Lis 1

2: Lis 2

3: True colors

Discount bin: BtS

My personal fave moments from LiS 2:

- beating up the racist bully and giving him a concussion

-mushroom (rip icon)

- victorias letter

-winning that that bear from that claw machine

-gorillaz song that was not feel good inc

-Brody pointing at a fucked up looking arcadia bay yelling “that’s the past!”- that was hilarious

-Sean paying tribute to Arcadia bay in his sketchbook (this fucking kid man, he’s so sweet he deserves the world- what did he do to make DONTNOD mad at him)

- the wolf animation and the story that plays before every chapter

-this was the worst hate crime in the whole game

#life is strange #life is strange 2 #sean diaz #Daniel Diaz #lis #lis 2

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hangesslut · 7 months ago

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Campfires & Ghost Stories

Levi Ackerman x Reader (18+)

(Smutty smut at the end, lovelies <3)

“Y/N, STOP IT!” I laugh loudly as Sasha yells at me. It’s been close to two hours of telling spooky stories and you finally got one that made everyone cave.

“Okay, okay! I’m done.” Grinning wide, I set back down on a log and feel the warmth of the campfire. Turning towards Sasha I drop my face into a horrified look as I stare past her shoulder. In reality there’s nothing behind her, but she jumps up and runs towards Jean, absolutely freaking out.

“What! What’s there!?” She stares at you wide-eyed. Trying to keep my composure, I fail and start dying of laughter once again.

“I’m sorry Sasha! You’re just too easy to scare…” I wipe the tears from my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Sasha just huffs and plops down on the log next to Jean and Connie. I pull my cloak around me and shiver lightly as the fire starts to die down. I go to stand up to grab more firewood, but get gently shoved back down. I look up and see Captain Levi. He nods at me and goes to grab more wood. You watch as he takes careful steps around everyone towards the area with our tents.

I’d never admit this to anyone, but I find that man so incredibly attractive. The way he holds himself alone is enough to kill a lady, but he’s also got these piercing eyes and such an intense way about him. He’s shorter, but I’ve only got a few inches on him. I wonder if he makes up for that somewhere else… I feel my face getting hot at the idea and I use my cloak to cover it. Levi walks back, tossing some logs into the fire and sits back down.

“Hey, you okay?” He partially grunts out. I quickly nod, keeping my face covered.

“Just cold!” Ugh. That came out a little too enthusiastically. I throw a quick glance at him and see he’s staring me down. He hums and slowly nods before looking away.

Looking around the camp, everyone seems pretty preoccupied. Eren, Mikasa and Armin are all talking about something that happened in training. Connie and Jean are picking fun at Sasha. I’m not even sure when or why I sat next to him, but Levi and I have been uncomfortably close on this log for awhile. I could have sworn we were sitting further away before he got up to get wood… Did he sit closer to me after he came back? I look down at the little space in between us, his hand dangerously close to my thigh. I start imagining what his hands would feel like, rubbing and grabbing my legs. Would they be soft or rough? Would he even do that?

I’m yanked out of my daydream by someone standing up and yelling about it being late and needing to go to bed. A few others mutter in agreement and head towards their respective tents. I look around and see that other than me and Levi, Eren is still sat looking at the fire. His face stretches into a slow yawn as he stands up.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed too, goodnight Y/N.” He sends me a soft smile and a small nod to Levi.

“Goodnight, Eren.” I give him a small wave and watch as he climbs into his tent.

I hear Levi clear his throat and I feel my body tense. “I-I should head to bed too, sir.”

I gather some things and lean to stand up just as Levi grabs my arm and drags me down. Landing directly onto his lap, I drop my things and gasp. All he does is slowly wrap his arms around my waist.

“Stay. Stay here with me a little longer.” He hums out.

I shiver in response to his low, warm voice and nod.

“Y-yes sir.” I feel him tense slightly.

“You can drop the formalities Y/N, it’s just us here now…” I feel his hand slide down my back and around to my thighs.

I try my hardest to relax, but so many things are running through my mind. I bring my bottom lip in between my teeth and glance down at him. I’m met with two shining eyes, staring me down intensely. I want to look away, but I can’t. I watch his eyes travel down to my lips, before coming back to my eyes.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?” God. The way my name sounds coming out of this man’s mouth is intoxicating. I nod my head slowly.

“Use your words.” My breath hitches.

“Yes, sir…” I watch his eyes darken slightly. He brings one hand up and wraps it in my hair.

“Can I kiss you?” Oh god yes!

“U-um yeah. I mean yes!” Levi wastes no time and pushes his lips onto mine. My eyes shoot open and then quickly relax as I allow myself to fall further into the kiss.

His hand in my hair slides down as he wraps both hands under me. Picking me up he carries me over to his tent. I hear the zipper slide open, the next thing I know I’m laying on my back with Levi hovering over me. My eyes are wide and staring at his. He leans down and slowly starts kissing my jaw, sliding down to my neck. He leaves little kisses and bites. Letting out little gasps as he goes, I feel him smirk against my skin.

“You like that? You like how I feel, kissing you and sucking on you?” I let out a low, quiet moan at his words and I feel him pick up the pace.

“What did I say, use your words.” I whine lightly and bite my lip.

“Y-yes! I like it, oh god yes.” I struggle to get my words out, only to sound embarrassing. I hear Levi chuckle and he slowly starts rubbing his hands up and down my thighs. His body is fully in between my legs now and his hands keep inching higher and higher. I feel like I’m going to come apart already and he’s barely even done anything! His fingers slowly brush up against me and the feeling sends an electric shock through my whole body.

“A-ah! L-levi!” I look up at him and see him staring down at me, pupils blown wide. His hands make an effort at undoing my pants, popping the button and slowly sliding his hand in. I feel his fingers slowly slide up against my cunt, gently pushing a finger in. I gasp and arch my back. This feeling… I can’t even finish my thought before his thumb starts gently rubbing circles on my clit. I’m going to come completely undone on my Captain’s hand. Moaning and squirming, I feel so much heat around my lower half. Levi bends down, slamming his lips onto mine and continuing his movements. I feel myself getting closer and closer. Oh, I don’t want this to end.

“O-oh! Levi, I-I’m gon-“ I get cut off by another moan as I gasp for air.

He kisses my ear and whispers, “Cum. Cum for me baby. Cum all over my hand.” He picks up the pace and my legs start to shake.

His lips come down and muffle my moans as they’re borderline screams at this point. I feel myself completely unravel around his fingers and for a few seconds I’m in complete bliss. He continues his movements, slowing down as I catch my breath. When he pulls his fingers out I let out a small gasp and see him smirking down at me.

“How was that? I could tell you’ve been thinking about it all night, Y/N.” I feel my face go hot and I bite my lip.

“It was…amazing. Thank you, sir.” He laughs quietly. Slipping himself in beside me and yanking me towards him.

“No need to thank me, just lay here for now and relax. I needed it as much as you did.” He pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes, relaxing into his hold and sigh. I feel myself getting more and more tired.

“Sleep, Y/N.” I feel him kiss the top of my head as my eyes flutter fully closed, letting sleep fully take me.

#aot #aot x reader #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #aot smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut

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feroshgirlsims · 1 month ago

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Villareal Household 1.2

Part two of this Halloween-y and fun side story using this gorgeous cc and build by @surely-sims and @doctorsimcraft! If you get an invitation to Magic Town, make sure you go 😈

PREV | NEXT

(Did you come here from the Main Story? Click here to get back.)

[TRANSCRIPT]

Luna: So…what’s it like working with Akira? I mean, you two do jobs for my dad, right? And–

JJ: Don’t do that.

Luna: Do what? Cheat at chess?

JJ: Fuck chess. Akira is not good for you.

Luna: Why not? The fae are truthful, right? I heard my dad say it: they can’t lie. JJ: That doesn’t mean they don’t lie. And anyway, Akira is supremely fucked up.

Luna: I’m not afraid of that! My dad is the head of La Cosa Simstra. And he’s the…you know.

JJ: I do know. And you can’t even say it. That is a huge ass sign that you and Akira would never work.

JJ: Listen, I’m just saying he’s cruel. All fae are. Even when they’re pretty or say nice shit, they won’t think twice about slitting your throat.

Luna: I thought werewolves got along with everyone but vampires.

JJ: We do. This ain’t about that. Akira is a friend, but I’m trying to help you.

Luna: Fine. Whatever. I get it.

-----

MEANWHILE...

Gemma: And my 8th great-grandmother was a gardener. Her name was Constance, and she believed in good manners. She had—

Siobhan: You know what? I think I’m gonna go find Luna. You wait here.

Gemma: Finally.

-----

Mr. Mysterio: Lady, for the last time, this is a magic show, not a concert. The bit is over.

Sofia: It’s never over! I think the audience wants to hear more of me! But you won’t let them.

Sofia: But you know what? I don’t care. I QUIT!

Mr. Myserio: You don’t work here!

-----

Luna: Look! The Fortune Teller is finally coming back to her tent. Let’s do that! And Luna and Siobhan are walking over, too.

Sofia: Can you tell me about my future, but like, in a chill way?

Siobhan: I’m not paying for this.

Luna: Um, sorry about them, we really do want our fortunes read.

Claire Voyant: It is not even a question. I have been waiting for you three.

#ts4 #simblr #Side Chronicles #Household: Villareal #sims 4 story #luna please stop having a crush on akira #its not gonna end well #i think mr mysterio and sofia bjergsen might fight

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gremlinmodetweeker · 3 months ago

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A Conversation About Death with Those Who Laugh

So, another one for the Ghostbusters au. I'm telling you, stick with me here. This is a reader x König, don't get me wrong, but I like keeping him in the basement as my nasty little science gremlin.

I had a crush on Egon as a kid. Is it a surprise I cast König as Egon? We will never know.

TW: Conversation about death and religion

Wordcount: 2.5K

Story below cut

A Conversation About Death with Those Who Laugh

You opened your locker and sighed.

You knew this was coming, there was no way around it, but it still didn’t help with the knowledge that you’d be looking like you were a paper bag princess running around with a blaster pack strapped to your back until you either kicked the bucket or gave up on paying rent on time. Of the two options, you figured you’d rather be stuck in the brown jumpsuit than out on the streets.

You pulled out your suit to get a better look at it, not even bothering to even attempt to hide the sheer contempt you held on your face for the offensive clothing.

“It’s not pretty, but it’s damn useful,” Roze called from behind you.

You turned around to face her with a raised eyebrow.

“Useful? This?” you shook the garment for extra measure.

“Sure is,” Roze nodded as she leaned against a wooden pole, “you know, it’s insulated so you won’t get blasted by anybody’s proton packs. That, and it cleans up real easy.”

“Does it get sweaty?” you asked before taking a tentative sniff of the rubber suit.

“Nah,” Roze flipped her hair from her face, “unless you count getting slimed.”

You gave her a dark look that only made the older woman laugh.

“You heard me. Slimed. Just ask Horangi about it.”

You shook your head before turning back to your locker. You hoped you could do something to spruce it up with time, but seeing as it was still just your first day on the job, you had more important things to think about. Namely, how your self esteem will handle wearing the shittiest uniform you’d ever had the misfortune of laying your eyes upon.

“Who even designed this thing?” you grumbled as you forced your feet through the pants.

“Blame König,” Roze snorted, “he wanted it to be puke green.”

“Fucking… Ugh.”

You managed to drape the uniform over yourself before zipping up the front. At the very least, the utility belt helped pinch in the waist to give it a bit more form. It still looked horrible. At the very least, the washed out brown looked better than whatever König had in mind.

You turned to look at your back in the mirror, where the logo of the company sat square on your back.

“Look at you!” Roze whistled, “you’re rocking it”

“Thanks,” you grumbled, “I look like shit.”

“Better than barf,” Roze reminded you.

“Whoever this König guy is, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind when I see him,” you muttered under your breath.

“He’s just European,” Roze shrugged.

“Isn’t Paris in Europe?” you huffed, “he could at least get a fashion designer or something to help…”

“We’re too cheap for Gucci,” Roze sauntered over to your side, “but you’re better off with than without. Cleaning out ectoplasm ain’t no easy task.”

“You’re really hammering in this ‘ghost busting’ business, aren’t you?” you snarked as Roze put her fists on her hips.

She shifted her weight to one leg and sighed, “You’re not getting it. We really do hunt ghosts. They’re real as you and me.”

“I’ve never seen any ghosts,” you retorted, “I thought you guys were scientists. Aren’t you all about tangible evidence or something?”

“Oh you’ll see ‘em soon enough,” Roze chuckled.

“You keep saying that,” you adjusted your hefty utility belt, “but I’ve seen nothing so far.”

“Look,” Roze put her hand on your shoulder, “you’re new. Why don’t you talk to Nikto? He was just like you when he came on the force. If you won’t believe me, maybe talk to someone who came here just like you.”

You locked eyes with her, holding her dark stare for a brief moment before tch-ing and looking back at the mirror.

“We’ll see.”

—

You strolled into the breakroom and plopped yourself down in the seat across from Nikto. You couldn’t see his eyes behind the mask, but the way his head twitched was enough for you to feel like he at the very least acknowledged you. Or, well, you hoped that’s what it meant.

“So…” you drew out carefully as you stirred your drink, “you came here from where again?”

“Russia,” Nikto pulled his mask’s shroud out to duck his cup of coffee behind it and take a long slurp.

“Russia?” you perked up, “where abouts in Russia?”

Nikto tilted his head before snorting, “What would it be to you? You wouldn’t know the name.”

“So not Moscow?” you smiled sheepishly.

“No,” he chuckled, “on the opposite side of the country.”

You nodded along, “Yeah I wouldn’t have any idea where that is. But what I’m really asking is why did you come all the way to New York?”

Nikto hummed and swayed his head thoughtfully before saying, “I wanted to get away from home. So I decided to come here, where I could get a new life.”

“But why did you come here, to the Ghostbusters?” you pressed.

“They were the first people to hire me,” Nikto lowered his now empty coffee cup to the scuffed folding table, “I didn’t know much english, so they were good for helping me learn.”

“So you didn’t come here because you believed in ghosts,” you concluded, falling back into your white folding chair with your arms crossed.

Nikto was silent as he examined you, his dark eyes flicking over you from deep within the recesses of his shoddy Scream mask.

“Somewhat,” he admitted quietly, “in my village, my mother would tell me ghost stories to help me sleep. Small town people live differently. Ghosts and spirits, little men, they all have a place at home. But I grew older and went to the city, and I forgot what I learned back home.”

“And then you came here.”

Nikto nodded slowly, “Then I came here. All those bedtimes stories I had laughed at were real! Imagine my surprise.”

“What made you change your mind?” you gave him a curious look.

He shrugged a shoulder and said, “I saw them. It is hard not to believe your eyes.”

“Okay but it could just be-”

“It is harder to not believe when they attack you.”

Well that was different.

“They… Attack you?” you carefully asked.

“Well of course!” Nikto chuckled heartily, “Roze explained it to me long ago, but this is what I remember. Ghosts are the leftovers of life. When a living thing does not feel that they are finished when they die, a ghost will be left behind. They are not really people anymore. They’re more… Emotions. Wants, needs. They are the shadows of what a person was.”

“So when you stop a ghost from doing what it wants to do…” you trailed off.

Nikto’s eyes crinkled with mirth, “That’s right. They get angry.”

The high salary of the job was making sense now.

“So how do you fight a ghost?” you asked, giving Nikto the benefit of the doubt.

“Roze and Horangi made a box to put them in, and König made a gun to shoot them with,” Nikto spoke frankly, “I like the shooting, but the trapping is not so fun.”

“So you’re like…” you rolled your wrist as you struggled to find an appropriate simile, “pest control or something.”

“Exactly,” Nikto affirmed, “we clean up pests.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Nikto was so straightforward, you’d have assumed he was completely insane. The idea of being a ghost exterminator was completely insane.

“How can a ghost even be a pest?” you scoffed, “it’s just a ghost.”

As Nikto was about to speak, Roze bustled into the room and sat down at the table.

“We’re talking about ghost busting?” she leaned in with a wide smile.

“You explain it to the recruit. You’re better at this than I am,” Nikto crossed his arms and slumped back into his chair, evidently relieved by Roze’s sudden appearance.

“Okay so, what’re you asking about? What makes ghosts? Where they come from? Where they go? What they’re made of? What they do-”

“Why do you need to get rid of them?” you butt in before Roze could run out of air. The thought of making the poor woman pass out on the first day wasn’t exactly on the top of your priority list.

You were brought out of your daze when Roze grinned wildly and slammed her fists on the table.

“Alright! We’re asking these kinda questions!” she cheered, “okay, so, first things first, you know what makes them?”

You shrugged as Nikto cast a curious eye to you, “Nikto said that they were made of emotions left behind by a dead person?”

Nikto nodded his head side to side, not quite satisfied with your answer but Roze was quicker to reply.

“Okay so yes and no,” Roze pulled out a blank piece of paper and a blue uniball pen, “so, ghosts are impressions of the recently deceased, yes, but they’re so much more! See, ghosts are mostly left behind by the living, but not all ghosts.” Roze drew a person, then a drawing of multiple stick men. She pointed at the singular person. “So when ghosts are left behind by a single person, they’re mostly just annoying. They just cause problems in the area around where they died. Depending on the type of person the person was in life, it determines the radius of the distance they can travel from the point where they died.

“When ghosts are created by a single person, they’re normally not too powerful, but they can sure be obnoxious. They can cause all sorts of problems, from causing damage to the foundations of the building they’re in to even physically attacking anyone who comes within their radius. It really depends.”

Roze drew the tip of her pen over to the drawing of a group of people and tapped it twice, “Now this is the bigger issue. When people come together to believe in something, it can create an entity all on its own. This is not something living that has died, this is something that was created entirely by the emotions of the living. Now, they’re some cool examples of this!

“Some figures from folklore can be ghosts, like dragons and unicorns and giants and all that. The boogeyman is a particularly powerful entity that haunts mostly young children. That’s right! It’s real! If a child believes in the boogeyman, they can be visited by the entity.”

You waved your hand with a scoff, “You’re telling me dragons are real? You’re fucking joking.”

Roze leveled you with a grim expression, “Oh they are more than real. They are incredibly dangerous, but that’s beside the point. Thing is, sometimes when people believe in things enough, it creates them. Monsters of myth can be created this way. Or, they can be a bit more dangerous.”

“More dangerous than a dragon?” you shook your head, “pft, get real.”

Roze rolled her eyes but turned back to the paper and started drawing again. Soon, a rudimentary drawing of an animal on an altar appeared.

“Is that meant to be a dog?” Nikto squinted at the paper.

“That’s a lamb! Get some eyes on ya, Nikto,” Roze huffed, but carried on with a quick tap of her pen, “so yeah, when humans come together to believe in something in a religious sense, like in a cult, they can create entire gods to control the universe.”

“So God is a ghost?” you drawled.

“No clue,” Roze admitted, “I have been trying to do more research, but I’m banned from every catholic church in the city.”

“In the entirety of New York City?” you blinked.

“Yeah but that’s another story,” Roze waved you off, “point is, it’s particularly dangerous when there are cults. So sometimes, with cults, they can want to exchange a lack of morality with a ‘higher power’. So when a cult truly believes they are dealing with a devil, if they believe enough and believe for long enough, a demonic entity can actually form.”

Nikto shivered across from you, making chills crawl up your spine. Something about the big scary Russian man being scared of a single word rubbed you the wrong way.

“So if demons are real, does that mean angels are too?” you asked.

“Some,” Roze nodded, “but you’d be surprised how many worship demons.”

“They create monsters they cannot control,” Nikto spat.

You glanced between the two. You hoped they were both clinically insane because the severity of their expressions spoke volumes you did not wish to hear.

“So how often do we, uh, deal with the devil or whatever?” you asked nervously, tensing with the change of atmosphere in the room.

Nikto and Roze exchanged a glance.

“Not often,” Roze cast you a half-hearted smile.

“Too much for comfort,” Nikto muttered under his breath.

“But hey!” Roze broke out into a full grin, “you won’t have to deal with one anytime soon!”

“Hopefully,” Nikto grumbled.

“Hopefully,” Roze admitted, “but still! I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

You nodded along with the information. The more you learned, the more you wanted to believe in what these people were telling you. Maybe it was just the end result of the repetition of a lie, but a part of you felt there was something deeper to what they were talking about. Anyways, why would you get a six figure salary for doing nothing? Something was amiss.

“So, you usually just deal with the regular old, you know, ‘boo’ ghost? Right?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah,” Roze leaned back in her chair, “smooth sailing for the most part.”

“So who even calls you?” you asked.

“Mostly people who need help with a haunting,” Roze flipped her hair from her face.

“But how do they know that they’re being haunted?” you scrunched your eyebrows together.

“What else do they have to turn to?” Nikto chuckled, “we’re a last resort.”

“So how do you know if there’s been a haunting?” you lay your hands on your stomach as you leaned into your chair.

“Lots of signs,” Roze shrugged, “could be slime oozing from the walls, mysterious writing on the mirrors, unexplained noises, things being moved around, but the real thing you gotta worry about is if they report scratch or bite marks,” Roze shot your a serious look, “any type of physical harm is a reason to worry.”

You nodded slowly as you took it all in. You still wanted to fight, tell them ghosts aren’t real and dig your heels in to spite your fate. The only problem was that Roze and Nikto didn’t seem crazy in the slightest, but were making more and more sense as they spoke. Nothing they were saying contradicted itself.

You wanted to ask more, but just as you opened your mouth, a blaring siren cut through the air like a banshee’s wail. You ducked and covered your ears but Roze and Nikto were on their feet in an instant.

“Whelp,” Roze took your elbow to help you stand up straight again, “looks like it’s time to figure it all out for yourself.”

AU Masterlist

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magicbystarlight · 9 months ago

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Venomous - Part Eleven

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: A wife. A mother. A witch with someone else's name. That’s the life you didn’t want. So Tom offered you more.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: 18+, a bit of an angsty one, arranged marriage, age gap relationship, ptsd, war. Minors DNI.

A/N: Our poor reader can't catch a break.

The last days at the Manor passed mechanically. Wedding appointments set for Easter Break—dress, cake, invitations, dinner. A book left unread despite the pages turned. Smiles that didn’t reach your eyes. Laughs that were hollow. Unanswered letters. No word from your brother. Nothing in the papers about the Muggle war.

Abraxas was at your side, arm slung too casually around your shoulder as you walked through Platform 9 ¾. Your trunk somewhere behind being dragged along by the Malfoys’ oldest house-elf Honey. Or was it Bunny? An unsubtle reminder to the growing crowd that you were a Malfoy, even if not in name yet.

At least your mother hadn’t come.

His goodbye was drawn out. You smiled and dutifully let him kiss you again and again until he couldn't keep you any longer. You hoped your own face didn't betray your joy as you stepped onto the train. The compartments were full as you dragged your trunk. It took longer to find Larissa and Abigail than usual thanks to the added weight.

Their concern felt wasted on you when you stepped into the compartment. Too much of your friendship had been spent on your petty problems when their families lived in constant danger that you knew nothing about.

You insisted you were fine, that it had only been a bit of stress, and everything was okay now. You brushed off concerns about Abraxas’ behavior, rewriting his jealousy as protection. You were fine, everything was fine.

The conversation veered to them and you listened intently. A funny story about Larissa’s mother getting on the wrong train in the underground. Talk of Abigail’s father’s wonderful cooking. Love letters they found under her little sister’s pillow. It made your heart ache.

“We should set up a dinner or something for the Easter holiday,” you said as the laughter was starting to subside. “So I can meet your families.”

Your friends shared a look that didn’t look pleased with the idea. “Won’t you be too busy? With all the planning? We don’t want to add to your stress.”

“Too busy for you? Never.”

“It’s just,” Larissa said slowly, trying to find the words to say, “well, we know how your family feels about half-bloods. You might not mind, but they’re not gonna be happy with it.”

“They know we’re friends, it’s not that big of a deal anymore. Maybe they’ll be upset if they find out one of Abby’s parents is Muggle, but we can go somewhere Muggle and they’ll never even know. Make a day of it, a real day, show me more of the Muggle world. I’ve never even seen London past the windows in the Leaky Cauldron.”

Larissa went to say something else, another argument against it from the frown in her face, but Abigail cut her off, face lacking its normal color. “We’ll see. I’ll need to owl my parents and ask if they can make the time for it. Easter’s pretty busy for them.”

Your face fell before you could catch it and school it into something false.

“We can do Cambridge instead!” Larissa offered quickly, too eager compared to her hesitation a moment before. “I’m sure Mum would love to have you both over. And it gets so pretty in the spring there—”

She continued, naming reason after reason Cambridge was the place to be for Easter. You worked your smile back, though it was as hollow as it’d had been at the Manor. A tentative date set for the Tuesday after the holiday—you had no appointments set and Abigail would be too busy helping out around home before then. Color still hadn’t returned to her face.

When enough time had passed, you excused yourself to use the restroom. They didn’t offer to join you.

Scalding water splashed from the tap, causing your hands to retract with a hiss. You waited for the temperature to correct itself and tried not to scratch at the pain.

Abigail didn’t want you meeting her family. Larissa could spend a week with them and you couldn’t even have dinner. You always knew they were a little closer. How could they not be when you barely put any effort into the friendship? They may have been your best friends, but today you realized you weren’t theirs.

That was okay, you told yourself. You would do better.

You looked up into the mirror as you scrubbed your hands. A crack cutting diagonally down it you hadn’t noticed before. How poorly were these restrooms maintained?

The door swung open.

“—almost punched Ralph McLaggen in the middle of Diagon Alley! Over her? Can you—“

The Slytherin girl from Potions cut off abruptly as her gaze met yours in the mirror. The one who loved to tell people about your torrid affair with Slughorn. You’d have to remember her name eventually.

Her grin was sickly sweet. “You looked great at the Minister’s ball.”

“Thanks, but,” you said, matching the acidic tone. “I don’t remember seeing you there?” Then you laughed, shaking your hands dry and turning to see her now scowling face. “Oh right, you must have seen me in the paper! I’d almost forgotten.”

You walked to the door, eyebrow raised expanctly at her friend who still stood in its way. She squeaked out an apology before moving aside. “Well lovely to see you, Judith. Hope your holiday went well.” Maybe you didn’t have to learn her name.

—

Dumbledore wasn’t at the welcoming feast. It wasn’t unusual. Since First Year he’d been in and out of class aiding in the fight against Grindelwald. But you felt the absence more now. You’d wanted to talk to him about Warrick.

There were eyes on you. More than usual it seemed. You kept your back to the Slytherin’s table.

Abigail had recovered, at least.

Her smiles were warm again as conversation swirled at the table around the next Quidditch match. Ravenclaw had only had one match the previous semester and it left them at an advantage, same as Slytherin and it was expected the match would be tense. You listened attentively as some of the team’s players explained how many points they’d need to rack up to gain the lead. It surprised you how attentively they listened when Larissa started dissecting Slyhterin’s weaknesses and strengths. Her insight was, well, insightful.

“We’ve got the pitch on Thursday, you’ll be there?” Erin Lockhart, this year’s captain, asked her as you all made your way back to the tower.

Larissa’s face was bright. “Haven’t missed one yet, have I?”

It was past midnight when the three of you finally clambered up the stairs to your dormitory. Normal. A truly normal night. Not a mention of engagements or wars or stalkers. Filled instead with Quidditch and school worries and silly little jokes. So many new things noticed about people you’d known for years. Funny how that can happen when you’re not existing solely in your own head.

Larissa was giggling about how good Henry Higginbottom’s hair looked when she stopped abruptly after opening the door. You thought maybe the ladies at Twilfitt and Tattings had outdone themselves and delivered early, but a melodic chirping drowned it out.

On your bed, in a rather large and intricate gilded cage, was Ravenclaw’s emblem. A Golden Eagle.

Their eyes were such a familiar shade of brown.

“When did you get an eagle?”

“I didn’t.” You felt cold. “I’ll take my chances with whatever gilded cage awaits me rather than whatever crate you’re offering.” Could Tom never stop with his fucking metaphors?

Abigail was the one to investigate. She plucked an envelope from the bed, turning it over. Your name was on the front in familiar handwriting and an even more familiar teal seal.

Of course Azar was still doing Tom’s bidding.

Anger seized as you took the letter she handed over. Blood splatters marred the parchment.

Found her in Astrid’s owlery.

A likely story.

Apparently she’d been there a while and now she seems a bit confused about what she is. Thought getting her out of there was for the best,

You scoffed. Of course he would decide what he thinks best.

but the dungeons aren’t a good place for her. She needs to spread her wings.

One thing he wasn’t wrong about.

I know Selene said no to getting you an owl, but she never said no to an eagle.

He remembered that? It’d been years since you’d asked.

Dippet was happy enough to approve her as a pet for you. Unsurprisingly, you’re one of his favorites.

It was a surprise to you.

She prefers hunting for herself, so she won’t be a bother. She’ll even take the post for you. You’ll have to give her a name though. Our aunt only ever called her örnen.

That sounded like Aunt Astrid.

Sinc Love,

Uggy Az

P.S. There’s no excuse. I’m sorry.

P.P.S. She was perfectly tame until I put her in the cage. You’ll get along well, I think.

The anger had dissipated by the end. Not gone entirely, but less. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t some new trap laid, but for now you’d let it be what it seemed. A sincere apology. Those were so rare.

“Uggy Az?” Larissa questioned, reading the letter over your shoulder.

“It’s what I called Azar when I was really little. It was supposed to be Uncle Az.” You reached for the latch, pulling the door open. “Mum hated it cause it sounded like I was calling him an ugly ass.” Cautiously the bird stepped out, stretching her wings and legs. She was beautiful.

You knelt at the end of the bed and she met you there. This close you could see the gold speckled throughout her eyes. When you reached your hand forward, she bent her head and let out a chirp at the contact.

“What should we name her?” you asked, stroking her.

“Princess?” Larissa offered before her face immediately went sour and shook her head. “She needs something more classical. Aethon?”

That made you shudder. Would that make you Prometheus?

Abigail’s fingers joined yours to stroke the brown feathers. “How about Drein?”

The eagle let out another chirp.

“You like that?” you asked. “Drein?”

She chirped again and seemed to nuzzle against your hand.

“Well,” Larissa laughed, joining you and Abigail in your affections to the bird, “Drein it is.”

—

Sweat covered you as you shot up from bed. A nightmare. You couldn’t remember much beyond explosions, screams, and a hand around your throat.

The hands of the clock pointed to a quarter past five. Too early to start the day and too late to try to sleep. Not that you’d be able to sleep anyways.

Drein stirred from her perch atop your wardrobe when you moved. It was odd how comforting it was when her eyes followed you to your desk. Being watched by a predator was normally so unsettling, but for once you didn’t feel like prey.

You took a piece of parchment and your quill and began to write. It wasn’t right. You scratched it out and started again. Still wrong. Dashed through the new sentences and tried again. No.

Curiosity got the best of Drein, her wings fluttering softly as she landed on the edge of the desk. Her head cocked as you ripped off the bottom, bare part of the parchment.

Why? You wrote. Your quill hovered for a moment more. I miss you. A few tears landed on the parchment before you wiped away the rest. Drein crept forward, pushing her head against your hand.

“Can you do me a favor?” you ask her. She blinks. “Take this to my brother.”

—

Drein had returned by that night. There was no reply. A week passed. Days that weren’t quite bad, but exhausting.

Transfiguration was the easiest. An essay to write from the substitute instead of hands-on practice. Astronomy. History of Magic. Ancient Ruins. Herbology. Arithmancy. Potions. Care of Magical Creatures. None of them required a wand often.

But Charms and DADA?

Horrible.

Abigail thought you were sick. First you fainted and now you were struggling in class? You’d gone and gotten checked just to ease her concern. You weren’t sure how no one noticed the crack in your wand, but you powered through. It did seem to work a little better as the days passed. Less resistant. A few more days, maybe a week or two, and it would be fine. Like nothing happened.

Whispers followed as they always did. Some with pity, but more with glee. You’d walked into a room more than once to be greeted with hurriedly hushed voices. Thankfully your housemates were more akin to pity.

Saturday afternoon you sat alone in the common room, where you’d been since after breakfast. It was a dreary day outside, but you couldn’t pull your attention away from the window. There wasn’t anything else to do. Abigail had left for some Divination project she had to work on with a Gryffindor and Larissa was serving a detention she’d gotten the last day of last semester. Abraxas had planned to visit, but something had come up and he postponed for Sunday. Homework was done and you didn’t feel like tracking anyone down to occupy time.

Why hadn’t Warrick written you back?

A very nasally, high pitched noise came from beside you, breaking your concentration. Myrtle Warren stood there, nose high in the air. She held out a folded piece of parchment. “Avery asked me to give this to you?”

Your eyebrow shot up. Myrtle was muggleborn. Azar didn’t like interacting with that sort, let alone entrusting them with anything.

She cleared her throat again impatiently and wriggled the note.

With a muttered thanks, you took it. She still stood there. It simply read: Library?

“He told me to wait for a yes or no. Wants me to walk with you there for some reason if you say yes. Very odd, I think, but he’s paid me ten galleons just to bring this, and it’ll be another twenty once I get back to him with an answer.”

Ten galleons just to get you a note. Thirty in all to get an answer. And an escort.

“Was there anyone with him?”

She shook her head. “No, he was all alone. Just like you. And me.” She shrugged. “Probably why he asked me.”

Azar must be hoping to apologize in person. There hadn’t been any chance to catch you alone throughout the week. You’d ensured that. While Myrtle wasn’t your first option of a companion, she was better than nothing. And talking it out with Azar was better than staring out a window. You needed to thank him for Drein, too.

Myrtle was surprisingly patient. You’d had to put your things away up in your dorm and she waited without a single complaint. It was unlike her. She hadn’t gained the nickname Moaning Myrtle for nothing.

It was probably the promise of galleons that kept her so quiet as you walked down the staircases.

“Do you mind if we stop by the restroom?” she asked as you landed on the second floor.

Had she not been so patient before, you’d have said no. But she had been. So you relented, eyeing the staircase wistfully and hoping she’d be quick. You wanted to see Azar. Know if it had been real.

Her favors weren’t over. “Could you check if there’s anyone in here? I don’t like an audience.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes and did as requested. It was empty, thankfully. “All clear,” you called from the end of the stalls.

“Well that is very,” Myrtle’s voice changed, the nasally high whine turning deep, honeyed, and unmistakable, “convenient.”

You twisted, wand in hand, to witness as Myrtle’s face bubbled. Her robes stretched to accommodate the added height and width, its blue yellowing to green, Ravenclaw’s emblem contorted into Slytherin’s. You’d meant to Stupify him, but nothing came. A red jet of light shot from his. With horror, your grasp on your wand loosened involuntarily and it shot from your hand. He caught it effortlessly.

“I’m not here to fight,” Tom said evenly. He eyed your wand, surveying the damage. “Not that it seems you’d be able to put up much of one.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed, despite the pounding in your ears.

He smiled. “I have missed your quick wit.” When you said nothing, he sighed. “I wanted to apologize.”

You repeated, “Fuck you.”

“That’s fair.” Your wand clattered on the floor as he threw it back. “I deserve worse.”

You don’t move. You consider it for half a second, hand tensing to reach for your wand, but you don’t. It’s useless.

“I didn’t understand how horrific what I did was. But I do now. And I’m sorry.”

Lies. Lies lies lies lies lies.

“I don’t want your apologies. They don’t mean anything. You regret nothing. You understand nothing!” Your voice rose, angry panic outpacing your ability to quell it.

“Forgiveness will take time, I know. I’ll be patient.”

Tears seared your cheeks. “Forgiveness?” you questioned. “Forgiveness for what, Tom? For—for trying to kill me? For stalking me? For ruining my life?” Yanking the Malfoy heirloom from your finger, you held it up. “I only have this,” you threw it, aiming for his frozen face that didn’t even flinch and missing by a yard, “because of you. If you’d have left me alone, none of it would have happened. You took everything. And for what? What has it gotten you in the end?” Your arms were shaking as you gestured to the lavatory he’d trapped you in. “Downing polyjuice to corner me here and listen to me tell you that I hate you.”

Quaking shoulders. Terrified and angry and devastated. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I don’t know.”

It came out so soft, yet the words thundered in your head. He’d been so confident months ago. Spewing nonsense about power and freedom and breaking traditions. Now he stood there and said he doesn’t know why he continues to torment you?

“You don’t know?”

Cracking sounds reverberated against the walls.

“You don’t fucking know?”

Glass shards fell to the floor as the mirrors over the sinks shattered.

You crumbled.

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