#the first one to say 'look how you've hurt her. look how you've sinned. look what we've made ourselves into' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nightlyrequiem · 5 months ago

Note

Hello there requiemmm 💫💫💫

Ive got a new request for u bbg 😈 /p

okay, so, this ones short, but, i hope its descriptive enough?? Idk 😭

(excuse my grammar, english is not my first language)

Valeria X unfairly devoted Reader.

hear me out, -- Reader is a member of Valerias cartel, -- they're in the higher ranks (im talking, one of the very few people that actually know who El Sin Nombre is, type of 'higher rank')

Reader is an absolute devotee. They (platonically, mostly) worship Valeria, cater to her every need, do whatever she'd like, whenever she'd like, no questions asked. Reader doesnt do it out of fear, that much is obvious. They just do it out of both respect and the far lack of both disobedience and a backbone.

Valeria, naturally, appreciates them, -- keeps them close, enjoys their company (mostly, because it feeds her ego, and makes her feel superior, -- in control, and whatnot) so much so, that reader is nearly permanently stuck being, somewhat of a 'personal assistant'.

Reader, being forced to spend all day (and, sometimes night, if Valeria needs some help with something) decides 'eh, why the fuck not' and asks Valeria out on a little hangout, disguised as a small 'meeting' in a coffee shop, that, ultimately, actually goes well, and spirals into a date.

(Date, naturally, ends with beating someone senseless in a dark alley, after they listened in on Readers and Vals conversation, or, .. something. Reader is, most definitely, doing all the damage, being a guard dog of sorts, not wanting Valeria to 'get her hands dirty, from such a small, unimportant man'. Not manner, man.)

Etc etc, girlfriends, lesbianism, boom. Work your magic, im bad at describing genuinly falling inlove.

hope yar doing well!

--Jester

🃏🌀⭐️

Took me eight days but I finally got around to this. Sorry for the wait, Jester 😔 I am doing quite well as of wiritng this, thank you. I hope all is well with you!

This is very loosely connected to the headcanons I did for this idea. I said it once, and I'll say it again; I love the unfairly devoted trope. I’m not sure I captured it too well but 🙌

Tags/Warnings: Violence, WLW, Boss/Employee Relationship

Swans

Many species of birds mate for life. Penguins, corvids, vultures, and most famously: swans. Symbols of love, loyalty, and grace. They are creatures full of love. They're so sensitive that they can die from heartbreak. You stare at Valeria and understand how the swan feels. How it could hopelessly devote itself to another, even at the cost of it's life.

The quiet scratching of a pen fills in the silence. Valeria's brows are furrowed in concentration as she haunches over her desk. You want to remind her to straighten her back, so it doesn't hurt later. Your eyes greedily drink in her profile. The slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, her curtain of black hair slightly obscuring her cheek and eye.

She sighs.

"Get me a drink." She murmurs. You're to your feet immediately. Heading towards the small cabinet containing her alcohol. You've fixed her enough drinks to know what she wants. Your fingers wrap around the neck of a bottle with golden liquid. Pouring it into a small glass, then putting in exactly two small ice cubes.

You carry it over to her desk and set it down in the corner. You slink around behind her. Watching her take a sip. You can't see her face, but you know she's letting the liquid sit in her mouth to savour the taste. She does that with all of her drinks; savours the first sip.

You have no problem getting her drinks. Or doing her paperwork. Or taking a bullet for her. Valeria has been the one constant in your life. She's the only one who has ever noticed you, and you latched onto her like a leech. She fed you crumbs of kindness and that's all it took. It's obsessive and unhealthy but you're long past the stage of caring.

Valeria takes a second sip then goes back to working. Her shoulders look so tense. You want to rub that tension away, but you don't. It's late and you're feeling a little tired, but you'd never say so. You doubt Valeria cares and you don't want to distract her. Besides, she must be tired too. You'll go home when she does. For now, though, you wander back around the desk and sit down in one of the chairs off to the side.

You gaze at Valeria as she works. At some point without even realising it you fall asleep. Your body startles itself awake as that fact worms it's way into your subconscious. You aren't sure how long you've been dozing off for, but Valeria isn't in the room anymore. You sit up with urgency and look around, a small fleece blanket falls from your shoulders.

You furrow your brows, trying to remember if you put it on yourself. You know you didn't. You feel slightly giddy at the thought of Valeria doing it. As if just thinking her name summoned her, Valeria walks into the small office. Despite how tired she is her stride is still intense and confident.

She sits down with a grunt and glances at you.

"Good sleep?" She asks sarcastically.

"How long was I out for?" You murmur. Tugging the blanket into your lap. Valeria's hair is a little messy and you wish you could run your fingers through it. Or a brush. You just want to touch her hair.

"Fifteen minutes." Valeria replies. "You should go home and get some rest."

Fifteen minutes isn't that bad. You don't want to leave just yet though.

"No, I'm okay to stay for longer." You insist. "I could help you finish up the last of those reports."

Valeria shakes her head and when she speaks her voice sounds softer than usual. "You've been staying late for the past few weeks; I know you aren't getting the sleep you need. Go home."

You frown but concede. "Alright." As you're getting up an idea pops into your head. "Hey, could we meet at Ila's tomorrow? I just think I need some extra reminders about where all the trade routes are." You know every route and the exact location of them.

"Okay." Valeria agrees. "5PM."

The next day arrives and you're very impatient for 5PM. You finished all your tasks and went home early. It's not a date. Not to Valeria, but that doesn't mean you aren't going to treat it like one. You've picked out a nice, attractive outfit and touched up your makeup.

You arrived five minutes early and secured a table. Watching as patrons pass by. The smell of baked goods almost tempts you into buying something, but you don't want to eat before Valeria. Ever the punctual person, Valeria walks in through the glass doors at exactly 5PM. She looks very put together, hair brushed and glossy. She's even wearing different clothes.

Valeria sits down across from you and gives you a small smile that sends fireworks throughout your body. You want to trap that smile in a jar like a firefly. Valeria reaches into her bag and pulls out a folded, yellowed map and sets it up on a table. She begins to quietly and intently explain where each route is and where the shipments go.

You nod and hum, pretending to listen. You're much more focused on Valeria's hands as she points at places on the map. Her neatly trimmed pink nails and fingers. Ine of them is slightly crooked from having been broken one too many times. Her skin looks soft and if you try hard enough you can smell her lotion.

"-and this is when we split it into smaller batches to move it across the border."

You point to Mackey Hill.

"Here?" You ask. Already knowing the answer.

"Yes." She nods. You glance up behind her for a split second and watch some scruffy looking man quickly turn away. Immediately you straighten and stare at him. You don't like the vibes he's giving off.

Valeria furrows her brows at you.

"What's wrong?" She asks quietly. You lean closer and whisper back.

"I think that man is eavesdropping."

Valeria turns her head to look at the man, narrowing her eyes. You feel pleased that she trusts your word so strongly.

"Get rid of him." She commands.

You slip out of your spot and approach him. He startles as you lean down and murmur in his ear.

"Follow me. My boss has a proposition for you." You walk towards the doors and cast a look behind you. He's staring at you nervously but eventually rises.

You wait behind the brick wall and wait. Sure enough the man rounds the corner. Looking at you with a mixture of caution and curiosity.

"What was the-" He's cut off by Valeria hitting him in the back of the head. He grunts and falls to his knees. You strike him this time. Kneeing him in the face. He opens his mouth to scream but you cover it before he can.

You drag him deeper into the alley and fish out the small blade hidden in your boot. You make quick work of slitting his throat. He makes an awful gurgling sound before going still. Valeria helps you lift him into the nearby dumpster. Your fingers brush and you look at each other.

You've been loyal to her for years. Since before she even came into power. Through thick and thin you've stuck by her side. You've thrown yourself in harm's way to protect her without thought. You've spent countless hours staring at her intently but now your gaze is being returned tenfold. There's a new fire in those dark inky eyes. One you've only caught glimpses of. But here it is, in all it's blazing glory and it's directed at you. Scorching and all consuming.

His body thumps dully as he falls among the full trash bags but neither of you are paying attention to him anymore.

"Why don't we go get something to eat?" Valeria murmurs softly. "I'm sure you'll have an easier time getting the routes with a full stomach." Her hand creeps towards yours and your fingers tangle with hers. You've done more than feed her ego, you've carved out a place in her heart for yourself.

#valeria garza #cod mw2 #valeria garza x reader

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netherfeildren · 2 years ago

Text

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .6

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Mention of disordered eating; Minor breath play; Light choking; Rough sex; Angry sex; Jealousy; Possessive behavior; Pussy slapping; ANGST!!!!!!!!!! (no one come for me!!!)

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: This is my favorite chapter of the whole story :) Art is Talking it out with Bobby by Holly Warburton

Word Count: 6.2K

Read on AO3

We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

You call in sick to work the next day. You can’t function after that, he’s destroyed you, taken a piece of you away with him and replaced it with something of himself. He lives inside of you now, worse than before, worse than anything you could have ever imagined. You can’t say that it was a mistake, letting him fuck you last night, mainly because it was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to you, but the accompanying guilt collapses your lungs.

When you look at yourself in the mirror after you've gotten home from the party, all you can see is your mother’s face in your reflection. And the thought comes hammering on your mind’s door in the middle of the night, you’re just like her now, an infidel. The poison drips through. Someone that’s taken what wasn’t theirs to take, someone that’s stepped into a space that was not theirs to enter.

You’ve been leaking a steady stream of his come all night. Your cunt, sore and puffy, aching for more. Laying face down on the edge of your bed, arm hanging off the side and gone away to numbness, staring unseeingly out the window. You watch night pass through the sheer specter of your soft, blue drapes, the silver glow of the moon brightening into dawn, and then the light of the sun, sweeping in to reflect across all of your sins. Your head aches a steady constant throb right at the center of your forehead, deep inside your brain, and tears have been a unending salty stream of shame sliding sideways down your face and dripping coldly off the tip of your nose all night long.

You’re a pathetic sight, you’re sure. And you’re scared, frightened in a way you don’t think you’ve been since you watched your mother walk out the front door of your childhood home at ten years old and had turned to look at your father sitting unblinkingly upright on the living room sofa. He’d stayed there for hours, still and silent while you’d sat in the chair across from him, waiting for him to say something, do something. A part of him had walked out that door with your mother that day and had never returned. You remember you were wearing your pink Barbie sneakers, the light up ones that glowed bright at the heels. The memory is very clear in your mind, but you can’t tell which figure you are now, your ten year old self, alone, confused, or your father, comatose, fractured.

You’re frightened.

You think you’re falling in love with him – that you’re already there.

Your greatest fear had always been ending up like your mother, unable to evade her blight of selfishness, of uncaringly hurting the people around her, the people that needed her. But now, now you’re terrified in a way that you’ve never been before, terrified of turning into that sad, broken figure sitting on the couch for years, a piece of him gone away with a woman who’d never return, who’d never really been his in the first place.

How could something you’d wanted so badly, that had felt so good, enshroud you in such desolation now, just a few short hours later? Was it because you knew you shouldn’t have done it? You could only register that peripherally, for there wasn’t any real part of you right now, in this moment, that regretted it, that felt it was a mistake. You’re riding the strange invisible line between guilt and regret, firmly on one side, not yet crossed over to the other, but just right there, balancing on the tightrope. But you can’t even really tell what it is that you might or should regret, specifically. It doesn’t even feel wrong, it can’t, you don’t think, nothing that had ever felt that right, could ever actually be wrong. It isn’t even the pillar of his marriage in your mind, you don’t think. No, what it is, at its core, the place that this pain stems from, is that you know he wants to be with you, and that you want to be with him, and yet, after what the two of you experienced together last night, you’re alone now, separated, and it’s only because of you. It’s all your fault. What hurts more than anything is that you know how he feels, and yet, he is not here, and you are not going to let him be here with you. It hurts because you cannot let yourself have him, and will not ever have him, even though now you know what he feels like inside of you and what he tastes and sounds like. You’d brushed up against something you’d never thought even existed, something perfect, and you will not have it.

It is… it is devastating.

You love him, and you think that there is the very high possibility that he might feel the same way about you too, and yet you will not be together. The fact of your feelings for one another does not erase your history, your fear, the reality of his current situation.

You have to bear the shame of going to the store for the morning after pill the next day. Too stupid and desperate to even think about being careful last night, cunt still puffy and sore, leaving a trail of him in your wake. It feels like you’re walking around with a bruise inside of you in the shape of him, and some cruel and rotten part of you whispers: it was worth it, you know you’d let it happen again, you know you want it to happen again.

Swallowing that little pill is just added salt in the wound – makes your hurt flare brighter within your heart for reasons you can’t even bear to examine right now, except to say that the idea of erasing whatever’s left of what could, very well, be the only time you’ll ever be close to him in that way, makes you want to die a little bit.

And you think: perhaps this will pass, as all things do. You’ve never been religious, but maybe you’ll pray for this – to let go of the memory of him, forget what his hands feel like running along the contours of your body, how your skin felt aflame with his gaze on you. To let go of this want for him you’re scared might send you to an early grave. And yet, at the same time, and despite all this, you also beg the universe to make you remember, to never let you forget.

Hunger gnaws at your belly, sharp and chronic, but you’re not letting yourself have anything yet. Some cruel and masochistic part of you whispers that if you can’t control your feelings, the fact that you’re in love with a married man, then you’ll control this – your body – what you’ll let yourself have. It is a bad habit from your mother that you like to indulge in sometimes. The false sense of power it gives you over yourself, the pain and discomfort it lets you inflict on yourself – it grounds you, makes you feel like if this physical suffering continues then you still belong to yourself, you’re still anchored to yourself, you still hold some sort of autonomy over your body, even if your feelings for him have taken the rest of it away. You’re still real – not something that’s been stolen away by him, that piece he’d robbed you of last night is still there.

Gerri climbs into bed with you, one very bad afternoon, drapes her arm around your shoulders to pull you into her warm embrace. You’ve been existing in a haze for days; and food and sleep and you have gone on a sabbatical from each other for the foreseeable future. There is no peace or rest or comfort to be found anywhere within you. Your mind is just too filled with things too terrible to escape from. Mostly your father – you’ve been thinking about him incessantly the past few days. How much you feel for him now, how much you understand him. You think that it is very easy, you now realize, to lose yourself in the dreams of an unattainable love, to lose yourself in the depths of your own grief. You’d cast him in a weak and pathetic light in your mind for so long, and now you were being faced with the terrible guilt of coming to realize that you understood him better than you’d ever thought you would.

With her cheek pressed against the top of your head Gerri whispers, “It’s Joel, isn’t it?” The reality of how obviously transparent you are is devastating.

“Yes.” You think your voice sounds almost unrecognizable, even to your own ears, so jagged and marred with agony.

“You love him,” she says plainly, and all you can do is nod as you feel your tears slide across the bridge of your nose, down your temple to drip coldly into your ear, slipping over the hand you have pressed over your mouth to hold your own terrible sounds inside. “He loves you too.” Your face crumples, your body wracked with trembling sobs. “It breaks my heart seeing you like this, honey.”

“I can’t help it,” you croak. You are so, so tired of crying. Your eyes ache and burn, your body, your mind, your very soul feels exhausted. You are exhausted of missing him and despairing for him and hurting your own self. You don’t even know why you’re doing it all anymore.

But you can’t find a way to let it all go, to move on… to forgive yourself or your parents. It’s all just too much, too heavy. You think of your mother, all the resentment you hold against her – how do you forgive someone who has no interest in your forgiveness, who’s never cared for it? It’s terribly difficult to be so magnanimous, so emotionally intelligent, you think. One can only exist as the bigger person for so long until they explode. But how can you let go or forget, if you cannot forgive? Perhaps, if it had been someone else, something else, but this was no ordinary thing. This was the crux of all your emotional turmoil, of every issue and grievance that had plagued you your entire life. Your parents, your childhood, the pain of an adolescence alone and unsure and angry. Perhaps, if it had not been all that – if it had not been the thing to shape who you were as a person, who you’d grown into as an adult, you could have just moved on, let it go and forgotten eventually, let Joel in, but the pain of your past had now become inextricably intertwined with the pain of what seemed to be a lost future – of Joel, and so you found it within yourself, now, that you would never be able to forget, if you did not forgive your parents, and then, perhaps, yourself.

But how to do that? You’d yet to figure it out.

After much pleading and coaxing and convincing from both Gerri and her sister, you’d agreed to go on a date with the shiny scarecrow – doctor – who you’re reminded is named Seth. Seth, Seth, Seth. You have to repeat it over and over in your mind to make it stick. And amidst your tears and depression and the overwhelming anxiety you’ve been living with for weeks and weeks on end, you ultimately relent. Too weak and fragile to resist the girl’s onslaught of encouraging suggestions and advice.

He picks you up one Saturday evening, seven o’clock on the dot, to take you out to dinner. Gerri had helped you pick out a pretty soft lavender wrap dress, doing your makeup and hair and wiping away the occasional escaped tear. The silk of your dress is smooth and elegant, and it feels good to wear something so pretty, after weeks of existing like some sort of cave-dwelling-creature, even if that feeling is punctuated by the painful thought that you wish you were wearing it for a different man.

And as poor, boring Seth leads you into the restaurant, a nice Italian place you appreciate the gesture of, his palm, not broad or strong enough, hovering over the small of your back and making you slightly nauseous, you pray for a nice night. Really, you do. You can’t be miserable anymore, you don’t want to be. Maybe Seth will pull something out of you or himself or the both of you consecutively, that will miraculously force you to have a wonderful time, wipe your memory, and never miss or think about one unmentionable man ever again.

And then you hear your name being called from across the restaurant.

It feels, a little bit, like your heart is falling out of your body.

And you’re turning to take in the sight of Joel and Eva, accompanied by another couple, at a table in the corner of the busy restaurant.

You think, in that moment, that you might faint. Or vomit. Or that something, very, equally bad is going to happen to you. Because it’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks and weeks and all you can think about is the pounding rhythm of his cock fucking into your wet cunt and the sound of your voice crying, asking him what the two of you were going to do after this? How you were going to be able to go on after that?

You do not think that this was the answer – him seeing you out on a date with another man.

His face – his face looks like it’s about to fracture in rage. His eyes are almost glassy, but so dark – burning with anger and shock and hurt. You did that to him. You’ve put that look on his face. And your heart beats so hard and so painfully in your chest, it feels like it’s being ripped apart, like he has it clutched within the embrace of his infinitely strong hand, and he’s squeezing the very life out of you in the middle of this crowded room. You think you can hear Seth’s voice saying something in your ear, Eva, again, calling your name, saying something to you, beckoning the two of you forward, and then Seth’s palm is pressing you forward, towards them, towards this angry, fractured beast you’ve turned the man you love into. You think you might start having a panic attack any moment now, or perhaps, that you’re already there.

The two of you reach their table. They’re with two other people, but your vision is slightly blurry, all you can see are his furious eyes. Seth nudges you and your mind suddenly snaps back into clarity for a second, “Hi, Eva.” You can’t say his name right now, you can’t, you can’t. You’ll die right here on the spot if you have to utter his name out loud right now. “How are you guys doing? This is my friend, Seth.” You introduce them, she says Joel’s name, you register it peripherally, and at the sound of it, you’re pierced with a sudden, blinding arrow of jealousy. Why, why is he here? Out on a double date with her right now? How could he fuck you the way he had, and then just gone on with his marriage as if nothing? You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. You want to scream and rage and throw a fit. You hate yourself, this is all your fault, you pushed him to this. You’ve been emaciating yourself in the infinite pool of your grief, and he’s out on a fucking date right now? It’s insane and unhinged and entirely nonsensical, you’re out on a date right now too, you have no right to these feelings, but you can’t help it. You feel a slight tremble start up in your body, and you think that Seth might be able to sense something’s amiss with you because he wraps a steadying hand around your waist as he chats, and at his contact with your body, you think that Joel’s knee must jerk violently under the table, for the glass and silverware on the table’s surface jumps and rattles, sudden and loud. You startle and turn your face away from them, try and suck in slow, calming breaths through your slightly parted mouth. You think you hear the sound of his deep, rumbling voice, muttering out an apology, and then Seth’s hand around your waist is nudging you again, and prompting you to say goodbye, and the two of you are turning and walking towards your own table.

Away from Joel and his anger and his wife.

A strong hand shoots out, catching the door as you’re about to shut yourself inside the restroom, needing a moment of escape, of reprieve, to vomit or have a panic attack or cry, you can’t really tell. Your body is in overdrive, panicking and shutting down all at once, and then he’s there, pushing the rest of the way in, crowding you backwards.

He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. Everything will be okay now, he’s here.“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Joel–” you cry, trying to push the immovable wall of muscle he is, back.

You hear the flip of the lock as he reaches behind him, and then his hand comes up to gently circle your throat, and he’s pressing you backwards and up against the wall. Your entire body shakes in a violent, feverish shudder. You haven’t felt him in weeks. Weeks and weeks without his skin on yours.

You hate yourself. You love him.

“You are not here on a date with that little fuck. Tell me I’m seein’ things.”

“Get your damn hands off me.” You try and push him away, but he tightens his hold, fingers administering the lightest pressure to the sides of your throat so that you start to feel that delicious, lightheaded rush. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No.

“Tell me–” he’s seethes, bringing your face closer to his, “Tell me you’re not here on a date with him. Tell me, baby.” His spitting hiss turns into a begging croon at the end. As if by making his tone sweeter, he can make the reality of what you’re doing here tonight different to what it really is.

“I am. I am on a date, and it’s none of your business.” You try to inflect as much spine into your words as you can, but it comes out all breathy and wrong, and your hands are clutching his wrist that’s gripping you, holding on for dear life, trying to bring yourself in closer to him, knees trembling. You’re sure you’re breaking out into a fever. The back of your neck and knees flushing with a cold sweat, flashes of heat spearing through your belly.

“None of my business? Everything to do with you is my fucking business.” And he’s spinning you suddenly, pressing you to the wall so that your breasts and cheek are smushed against the cold tile and yanking your dress up around your hips. You feel him crouch down behind you, and then his fingers are pulling your panties down to your ankles, and he’s burying his face in your cunt from behind, soaking wet already, Jesus fucking Chirst, big hands gripping the meat of your ass to spread you wide for his tongue. You arch your back to let him in deeper as tears start to fall.

We shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, we shouldn’t. Finally, finally, finally, thank God.

He licks from your clit all the way to your asshole, spits a glob of saliva onto your already soaked skin and rubs it in. You let out a broken, devastated moan, almost a wail. Oh, it feels so good, so good. You shouldn’t – you can’t help yourself.

“P– please, please, Joel–”

“I know, I know, baby. Gonna give you what you need.” He gets to his feet, and you hear the drag of his zipper, one hand on your hip, the other coming around to press down on your belly, deepening the bend of your spine, and then the wide head of his cock is there, right where you need him the most, where he shouldn’t be, and he’s fucking into you all the way. Deep, deep, deep, without preamble.

He owns you. You belong to him. How could you ever have been so stupid to think that a date with another man would be a good idea?

You’re whining, stuttering his name over and over again. “We shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, Joel, please, please, please, harder.”

“Shut up. How fucking dare you?” His thrusts are brutal. He brings the hand on your hip up to your throat to yank your head to the side, tongue licking deep into your open, panting mouth. “You force me to stay away, avoid me for weeks, and now you’re here with him? You’re gonna come on my fucking cock now. Remind you who you belong to. Were you gonna let him fuck you? Were you gonna let him have my cunt?”

“Never, never. I promise. Only you.” You’re dizzy, your brain – melted out through your ears, fucked out of you by the relentless onslaught of him inside of you. His grip is almost too tight around your jaw, the palm on your belly pressing down so that you both can feel his cock ramming into you from the outside.

The excruciating pain of missing him – and now this. You hate yourself, you’ll never come back from this. His wife is right out there, but God, God, he feels so good. You’ve missed him so much. You love him. He’s so right inside of you. Tears leak from your eyes, rolling over his hand clutching your face, and he sinks his teeth into the delicate tendons connecting your neck and shoulder. You’re going to come. Now, now any second. The harder he is, the rougher he treats you, the wetter you get, the tighter your pussy gets. You’re so fucked up.

“All this fucking time apart, just to find you here.” He slides the hand on your belly down to your clit, starts a rhythmic little circular pattern that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your cunt clenching down hard, sucking him deeper.

“Please– I’m sorry.” Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

“No you’re not.” He gives the top of your mound a quick little slap that has you mewling high and warbled for him. “If you were, you’d have answered my calls, let me see you. What the fuck’s wrong in your head to think you can send me away? To think you can leave and never come back to me? You’re mine, and I’m yours. We belong to each other. Now be my good girl, and come on my cock. Right now.”

“Your wife’s right out there, you fucking asshole!” you cry, inner muscles starting to flutter and pulse around his throbbing length.

“I don’t give a fuck. Gonna stuff you full of my come and send you back out there dripping me.” He kisses you again, and he’s so fucking dirty, so crude and mean and your orgasm hits you full throttle. So wrong.

“Yes– fuck, yes – good girl, such a good girl for me. That’s it,” he presses into your ear, dips his tongue into the soft, little shell. You sob his name, again and again, telling him how much you missed him, how much you need him as he starts to fill you with the searing heat of his spend.

He presses gentle kisses to your neck, your shoulder, your wet cheek, hugs you tight to his chest. So at odds with the savage way he just took you. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder limply. You’re trying to control your sobbing, your face is going to be all red and splotchy when you walk out of here. You probably look wrecked, just fucked. Everyone’s going to know. Poor Seth – he doesn’t deserve to be disrespected like this. His wife’s going to know. Joel’s going to tell her. You can feel it in the desperation of his movements, the tight grip of his hands. He’s reached his limit, and he’s going to tell her everything, and you won’t be able to hide this anymore, won’t be able to stop him, to hide all of your truths and shame.

“Get away from me,” you gasp, breath hitching. Get away, get away, get away. What is wrong with you? You’re just like her, just like her, just like her. You’re just like your mother. Callous and poisoned. “Get away!” you almost shriek, starting to panic now.

“Baby, wait – wait. I’m– I’m sorry. Fuck, I shouldn’t’ve been so rough.” He pulls out and you feel the gush of his come, moaning at the feeling. You brace your hands against the wall, trying not to lose your balance on your shaky legs. You feel his hands hovering around your waist, ready to catch you if you need him.

“Oh God, oh God– what did we do?” You turn to face him, cheeks burning and tear streaked, hands coming up to cup your own face, eyes wide. Your whole body is shaking. “There’s something wrong with us.” He steps up to press himself all along the length of you and you shut your eyes. His gaze is so concerned, swimming with desperation, and you love him so much, you want him so badly, more than anything else you’ve ever wanted in your entire life. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, and you can’t survive this, you can’t, you can’t. He cups his large palms over yours, completely engulfing your small hands and presses his brow to yours.

“Please, please, baby. I’m begging you right now,” his voice cracks, and you pull your hands from beneath his and snake your arms around his neck to hug yourself closer to him. You need to breathe in his scent in these last few moments, you need to imprint the feel of him in your memory, brand it there to keep with you for the rest of your life. “Please, let me fix this. There’s a way to make this better, please.”

“We can’t,” you whisper, rolling your brow over the hill of his shoulder in the imitation of a weakly stubborn shake. You don’t even know why you’re refusing anymore. It’s not like it feels any more right or wrong than what you’re already doing. It’s not like you’re better off for being without him, or he’s better off for staying in his marriage. It’s not like your obstinacy is helping anyone involved in this at all. And yet, you can’t help yourself, something inside of you is forcing you to continue to refuse. And at that he pulls himself away from you angrily. Ripping himself out of your hold and leaving you to stumble.

“No, you can’t,” he spits, teeth bared at you in an almost hiss so that you have to step away from the horrible, painful look in his eyes.

His anger incites your own, “You’re here on a date with your fucking wife,” you say, swiping your hand out in a halting gesture, “What do you care what I’m doing or who– who I’m with?”

He barks out a laugh, ugly and broken, and the sound of it makes you flinch, take another step back from him. “Wanna know something real fuckin’ funny?” No, you don’t think you do. “That’s the man she’s been having an affair with. The pregnancy scare? That’s him.” He jerks his thumb back towards the door, raises his eyebrows, a mocking gesture, a look that has you wrapping your arms around your middle protectively. He nods his head condescendingly. “Yeah…” He’s smiling, and the look in his eyes is manic and broken and full of an ugliness you hate seeing in him. Like he’s on the verge of fracture.

“Joel– What–” you bring up a hand to rub at the ache that’s starting up in your temple, “What are you doing here with them? Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Why am I doing this to myself? He murmurs under his breath, shaking his head. He is so full of painful contempt in this moment, and you think that there is a slightly humiliating edge to this, but you don’t know who it is that’s being humiliated here right now. “You think I give a fuck about being here? About them?” His voice takes on an edge you’ve never heard in him before. No… not on the verge of fracture, you think, this is a man deep into the abyss of dissolution. His brow crumples. “I don’t – I don’t know. I can’t fucking think. I can’t function, you– you did something to me. You–” the words break in his throat, “You stole something from me,” the way you’d felt he’d stolen something from you, “My goddamn sanity or sense or something, and then you’ve refused to talk to me, to see me, and I don’t– I don’t know how to exist anymore, do you understand me? I don’t know how to do this alone – without you. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I– I just–” he squeezes his eyes shut and presses the balls of his hands harshly into his eye sockets, “I just need you to tell me how to do this. How are you doing this? Please, just tell me something that’ll help me, and I’ll do it. I swear, I will.”

He’s breaking right in front of you, here and now, and you’re left speechless, your mind listless, and right before the words leave your mouth you think: don’t say it, don’t say it, please, don’t push him away, don’t hurt him like this again, but instead: “Joel, I can��t. I don’t–”

He cuts you off, “I know. You don’t want to… You don’t want this…” he laughs, another terrible and broken sound. “You don’t want this,” he whispers again, and his face spasms painfully, and then goes suddenly blank. All emotion melting away so that all you’re left with now is a bare, cold canvas. “You’ve never wanted this enough to fight for it… I don’t think. To let go of your fears. I’ve told you that I’d do anything for you, over and over again. And you won’t let me.”

“It’s not that fucking simple!” you cry. “Don’t– don’t say–” He was wrong, he was wrong.

He tucks himself away, still slick and dripping your mingled come, and it registers for one immensely vulnerable second, that you’ve just had this terrible conversation with the both of you bared to each other in the most intimate of ways. He turns to face the door. A terrible curling lance of shame and disgust roils through you. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes again for one long quiet moment. You watch the broad expanse of his back suck in deep, slow breaths – trying to collect himself. His ribs flare so wide on the inhale, he’s so big. His arms fall to hang limply at his sides. “It’s fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I shouldn’t have been so rough… said all that. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.” His voice sounds dead.

He turns his head to the side slightly, giving you his profile and whispers quietly, devastating, “This–” he shakes his head a little, a frown verging on confusion crumpling his brow, “This is hurting me?” and the way it comes out, like a question, but yet, so simply, so starkly – it would have been less painful had he struck you, than hearing him say those words so plainly. But still posed so unsurely, as if he doesn’t expect you to understand, or perhaps, as if he doesn’t quite understand it himself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep all your blood and pain from spilling out onto this dirty restroom floor. Something has just been irreparably destroyed here. You don’t know what it is. But you can feel it happening, and it hurts.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

And you want to say, no, you’re the one that’s sorry. You’re more sorry than you’ll ever be able to put into words.

But you stay silent, and he walks out.

You’d always worried that the moment of true fusion with the memory of your mother, of who she was, would come, or better yet, had come, the moment you’d become involved with a married man. You’d thought that nothing after that could enshroud you in her terrible shadow more than that. But you realize, now, as poor Seth drives you home, silent and uncomfortable as silent tears stream down your face and another mans come leaks from your sex, as the memory of Joel’s broken voice and face flashes in your memory, that this is the moment, above all others, that you’ve felt most like the woman who gave you life. Nothing else has ever been like this.

The poison drips through.

You think of your dad. Of the way he died, the way he lived in the years after she left – if that sad excuse of an existence could even be called living.

What a terrible thing it is to love someone so much.

What a terrible thing it is to know someone so well. Well enough to be able to understand them to their very core, to understand what it is that causes their pain, incites their actions. It is a terrible weight to bear.

Seth clears his throat as he pulls the car to a slow stop outside your house. “Uh… are you… are you okay?” Do I look okay? You want to roll your eyes, but he doesn’t deserve your annoyance.

You sniffle, try and control your voice, “Yes,” you whisper, “I’m sorry for– for all this. I… I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“Look…” he says your name slowly, “I don’t– I don’t know what it is that’s between you and that guy… he’s the same one from the night we met–” you say nothing, “But I don’t think– I don’t think it’s going to work out between us. I’m sorry, but I can’t have all this drama. I’m not really interested in something like that.”

An uncontainable huff of a laugh slips out as you look out the window at the dark street, you shake your head minutely. “To be honest, I’m not so interested in all the drama myself, and yet…” you turn to him now, “I really am sorry, Seth. And I wish you the best.” He nods, stoic, face pointed directly forward, he doesn’t even want to look at you. Uncomfortable and embarrassed by your breakdown and tears and obvious disorder. It’s probably pretty obvious that you’d just gotten the sense fucked out of you.

You step into the dark interior of your quiet house after he drives off. It’s lonely, almost like a shell, an abandoned carcass. None of the comfort you’ve always found here seems to still reside within its wall, and you think that there probably isn’t any place in the entire world, besides by his side, where you’d be able to find any sort of comfort anymore.

Hot guilt churns in your belly – a vile mix of desperation, misery, resentment, wanting. Joel was right about one thing, you don’t know what you’re doing anymore either, what all this is for. None of it makes sense, none of it has a point.

What is the fucking point of all this suffering?

You try desperately to suppress the certainty that lives so willfully within you – that he knows you, that he sees you, that you were made only for him. Something you’ve known for a long time, since the very beginning, probably. That no one, no one will ever intertwine with you, soul fused to soul, as intrinsically as he has. That no one will ever see the muddled shadows of your own self as clearly as he does, as if he was laying his eyes upon the inside of your skin.

You’re in love with him, and you realize that you’ve made yourself into something unrecognizable. A creature out of the very depths of your worst nightmares – the mirror image of the person you never wanted to be.

Your brain feels as though it’s swollen within the confines of your skull, your tears uncontrollable. Your longing for him a spear of fire through your heart, and you are so, so weary of fighting.

Your life had taught you that there were no happy endings. They didn’t exist. A figment in the imaginations of desperate people in need of consolation, comfort, excuses. But there could be grateful endings. Endings that you could thank God, the universe, whatever higher power you used to delude yourself with, for. You could be grateful when a thing ended. You could be glad of it. Perhaps, if you lie to yourself hard enough now, repeat it in your mind enough times, you can feel grateful that you’ve destroyed this. That it seems you’ve finally pushed him away for good – maybe this will help you finally rest, even if the lie of it pushes heavily down on your shoulders.

Chapter .7

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#someone's fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female oc #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #Joel Miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller au #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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aakaneeee · 20 days ago

Text

ROUND 8

There is a thought that has been plaguing my mind lately.

"Yvonne, aren't you guilty? For being willing to kill? For the way you would, even?"

It's a stupid thought, I know. Imbecile, so much so I wonder how it even came from my own (quite brilliant, if I should say so myself) mind. A scheming, possibly manipulative, gruesome mind, and yet it bloomed such an incompetent idea. I was always two steps ahead, no? Then how come I'm starting to fall behind my own being?

The words I'm saying are delirious, fever-like. I am not sure myself why I have this sudden urge to praise myself. Maybe insecurity? No. I haven't felt such useless emotions ever since my bussines partner (or owner, as other pets would call them, but it's embarassing and below my status for me, of all people, to degrade myself in such way.) told me how unnecessary it is. Anyhow, I have found an answer.

No. I don't feel guilty, nor will I ever do.

Can anyone blame me for the fact I wouldn't mind killing my own kind? I have been taught it is normal since the start of time. When I first opened my eyes, I saw death. My human lifebringer was considered useless and so, destroyed. Only the perfect little daughter remained.

And, I wouldn't kill just anyone, in any conditions. That redeems some of my sins, no? People's worst sin is that they destroyed and betrayed themselves for nothing. But me? I'm the sweetest venom, no? I'm above everything and everyone, atleast in my mind, and I'm pretty sure in others' too, because I'm "sweet". Or atleast, I look that way. Like a swan, no? Graceful and beautiful, yet would kill her children (the circumstances of them being in pain are irrelevant. Crime is crime.)

I am not here to redeem myself. I am not here to beg on my knees. I am here to be above. Regardless of the result, the only hurt will be the egos of the aliens when they find out I am invincible. They'll see.

But what if it's the other way around?

What if he...

No.

He will live.

It's detrimental.

I mean, what are the chances for him to lose against a pitiful, intoxicated version of me? The sensation of the 'medicine' my business partner feeds me has long been integrated into my being. I am so used to it, it feels natural. "Yvonne, how can you be so calm? You aren't taking those by your own choice." Pfft-

Consent? We, humans, are wishing, and talking about consent? Look around! Asking for consent is stupid, most of us are dying! I would have myself. But my armor consists of more than will and little ideas. Atleast 'medicine' makes it fun!

Anyways. It is unnecessary to continue talking about- no. Talking isn't unnecessary. Talking in my state is. There is a difference. Well, it'll soon be time to put my facade to the test.

By facing my lover, the love of my life. My biggest follower: the only one I've ever wanted. Sebastian... I don't think I will be able to fully compose myself. I'm sorry for the version of me you'll see. (even though you've already perceived my most inhuman actions, I feel like I will act worse.) I'm sorry it will be the last version of me you will remember. One of us will die, or disappear from the public eye momentarily.

We'll see according to the loser.

Soon...

sebastian belongs to @sotogalmo

i am severely underprepared mentally for this round. it will totally ruin me

#alien stage #alnst #vivinos #art #digital art #artists on tumblr #alnst oc #alnst oc: yvonne #alien stage oc #alnst oc: sebastian #round 8 #season 40 #alnst fan season #sevonne #reddust

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jsluvtzu · 1 year ago

Text

i promise

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: promises are made to be broken

cw: angst, slight fluff, suggestive towards the end, mentions of cheating, men dni

wc: 1.9k

a/n: my first fic!! please feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions :) pink text is a flashback

it's been one year. one year since you got your heart ripped to pieces. one year since your entire soul was crushed and you were broken down into absolutely nothing. one year since the girl you loved and thought loved you back left and took remnants of your heart with her. but that was a year ago. a lot can change in a year, right? now you were genuinely smiling again, going out with friends, finding peace. thoughts of her slowly faded away, only the good moments popping up once in a while. you were moving on.

at least that what's you thought until she showed up at your front door at 1 am on a saturday night.

you heard soft knocks on the door as you sat on the couch, catching up on the last few chapters of your book. since it was raining tonight, you thought nothing of it. until you heard it again, this time louder and more familiar. you recognized that stuttered pattern of knocking that sana had, memories of the daily occurrence of her showing up unannounced flashing through your mind. still, there's no way it would be her at your door right? not after how things ended between you both.

—

"you're being so fucking ridiculous right now, y/n. i told you it was just a work trip, right? do you not trust me?" the venom laced in sana's voice made you flinch. "i do trust you, sana. i just want the truth this time that's all." tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of her questioning your trust in her. "i just needed a break from all this" sana gestures her hand around the room, almost pointing directly at you. "all this? what are you saying?" you hesitated as you realized the intention behind her words. sana scoffed as she pressed her hand to her forehead, pacing around the room. as you stood there watching her get increasingly frustrated, you couldn't help but dread hearing her answer. you wanted the truth, but you knew it would hurt so much more than hearing her usual excuse.

the silence in the room was filled with your soft sniffling and tears that started falling without you even realizing it. sana froze up and took a deep breath, opening her mouth to say something, but not coming up with anything. your eyes were glued to the floor and your body felt weak. you couldn't even bare to look at her. "just tell me what really happened that night. please." your pleading was barely audible and your voice was small. "nothing happened, y/n. i promise."

this wasn't the first time she had been on a "work trip" and came back with a piece of evidence of her sins. it's the fifth time you've allowed her to walk all over you and force you to just accept it. "i saw it." but this time you were fed up with the lies. done with her blatant ignorance for your feelings. "what are you talking about?" sana asked as she started cracking her knuckles, a nervous tic she has. "the lipstick mark on your shirt. and the pictures. i saw it." you started choking up and the tears started flowing again. there's a pause in the atmosphere and sana doesn't say anything. she goes to sit on the edge of your shared bed. thinking. thinking of another bullshit excuse to give you. "i'm sorry." was the only thing she could come up with this time.

sana stood up and slowly walked over to you, your back turned and body frozen. she grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with hers. you hated it. you hated the way her hand fit perfectly in yours. hated the way her hands were the perfect amount of warmth and how soft they were. you were repulsed by her touch. and it hurt so fucking bad. you loved her so much, but you couldn't feel anything for her except disgust. you snatched your hand away from hers, making sana jump. you looked up at her for the first time in what felt like hours. you scanned her perfect features for any sense of guilt, or regret. nothing. only finding a small smile spread across her lips after finally making eye contact with you.

"you should leave." you managed to say as you silently praised yourself for having the courage to. sana's smile dropped and her eyebrows furrowed, confused. she chuckled in disbelief, not fully understanding the weight behind your statement. "what?" her voice slightly above a whisper. "i said you should leave." you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood as you tried to hold back your tears and looked her directly in those pretty eyes of hers. fuck. sana slightly stepped back, shocked at the depravity of the situation and the consequences of her actions. a few minutes passed and sana collected herself enough to walk out of your room and house, slamming the door behind her. you broke down onto your knees as soon as you heard the door close, sobbing and debating if you made the right decision.

—

putting your book down, you got up to look through the peephole of your door, seeing the exact person you never thought you would ever see again. "what the hell?" you thought to yourself as you slowly unlocked and opened the door. seeing her again made your breath hitch and you felt those pushed down feelings crawling back up. her clothes were drenched with rainwater and her hair was damp. "hi." you saw a held back smile form on her face. you stared at her and stood back to let her in without saying anything. sana cautiously walked inside and took her shoes off, dropping her soaked jacket next to them. you noticed how her hair got longer. darker. her eye bags were abnormally visible and her figure got slimmer. god, has she been eating properly? you quickly shook off that instinctive concern towards her and brought yourself back to reality.

"do you want tea?" you asked, knowing it was the usual when you were together. sana would come over and you would make each of you a cup of tea as you sat on the couch together. loving each other. but that's not what it is anymore. "no, i'm good. thank you." you nodded in response, slightly hurt at the end of the tradition. as you shuffled around the kitchen, you heard her call you.

"y/n." sana's tone was serious and you turned around from the kitchen island to face her. "can we talk? please?" she sounded so vulnerable. a side of her you don't remember seeing. you walked over to the couch and sat down on your usual side. the same couch where laughter and better memories were once made. sana joined you and sat on her side. your assigned spots on the shared couch remained the same, making you smile to yourself.

sana was stiff. reserved. her leg was bouncing up and down as she cracked her slender fingers on her left hand. your eyes were focused on her. observing her. "how are you?" you asked to try and relieve the tension in the room. "good, good, yeah. i've been good. how about you?" she was lying again. "i've been good too." sana looked at you and seemed almost upset hearing that. she nodded and looked back down to her feet.

"why are you here, sana?" there was no answer from her and you saw how restless she was getting. in the moment of silence, you reflected on things and realized how much you missed her. you missed her intoxicating scent. her presence. her laugh. her smile. it felt like home to you. she was home. all you wanted to do was hug her and tell her everything was okay, but you knew it was wrong. you silently cursed yourself for feeling this way.

"i just needed to see you." she finally said. "i wanted to properly apologize for what i did. everything. i fucked up i know. i'm so sorry, y/n, i took you for granted and i didn't realize what i was losing. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." her words were all jumbled together and she said sorry more times than you could count. her vulnerability was fully shown, tears streaming down her face and into the palms of her hands. you felt yourself crying along with her, but you quickly wiped the tears away. after choking out a couple more apologies in between her sobs, she looked up and saw your glassy eyes. she turned to face her body to you, giving you her full attention. "i've honestly been so lost without you y/n. i'm not doing good at all. i lied, okay. ever since that night, you're all i think about. i regret everything y/n i'm so fucking sorry. i still love you so much. i never stopped loving you. i was just too dumb to realize what i was doing to you. i’m so sorry for hurting you like that." sana frantically spewed out everything and you wondered just how long she's been waiting to get it off her chest.

she slightly slid closer to you, careful not to overstep the invisible wall between you. "y/n. please. say something. anything?" sana watched you intently as you sat there, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"why did you wait until now?" you finally said as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a form of self comfort. "i don't know. i just needed time to think. i was immature and was too embarrassed to admit it." she shook her head, disappointed in herself. "but i want us to try again. doing things the right way this time. maybe. i don't know." she sounded unsure of herself, almost like she was leaving everything up to you. she glanced at you to look for a reaction. any reaction. you let out a deep sigh. "sana.." your grip on yourself got tighter, grounding you. this was everything you've ever wanted to hear from her. everything you asked for back then. part of you wanted so badly to drop everything and say yes right then and there, but the rational part of you was forcing yourself to hold back.

"i know. yeah it's a bad idea." she sounded defeated and ran her hands through her damp, tangled hair. "i just don't wanna get hurt again, sana. i've been happy." you winced when you were reminded of what sana put you through. she looked at you with those same pretty eyes, slightly pouting. she moved even closer to you than before, placing her hand on your knee.

her perfume was strong and you felt an odd sense of comfort from it. she observed your face and admired your soft features. she reached her hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear, making every move gently and carefully. you untensed your body and let your arms drop into your lap. sana rested her hand on your cheek, caressing your smooth skin while she looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. you leaned into her touch and she noticed it right away, smiling at your action. you missed her so bad. but it was so wrong. you were making such good progress. you were healing. how dare she just show up like this and fuck everything up?

but none of that mattered anymore when her face somehow got impossibly close to yours. her thumb soothingly rubbed back on forth on your cheek as she eyed your lips with a slight hint of lust. your breathing got heavier and the tension was imminent. your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned in and closed the gap between you two, feeling her soft, warm lips against yours. you moaned into the kiss, deepening it with your hands pulling her closer around the back of her neck. she tasted so sweet that it was almost addicting. sana kissed you back passionately, using this opportunity as a way to show you how sorry she really was. you pulled away to catch your breath, pressing your foreheads together, breathing together in sync. "i'm not gonna hurt you ever again, y/n. i promise." and you knew it was only a matter of time before her promise was broken again.

#twice imagines #twice x reader #twice angst #kpop x reader #sana x reader #sana angst #twice sana #minatozaki sana

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wildflowerteas · 18 days ago

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JUST SAW YOUR TSP PLAYLISTS COULD YOU GO THROUGH SOME OF THE SONGS AND EXPLAINED WHY YOU ADDED THEM 🤭🤭🤭

of course!!!!!! this is a bit of a Pandora's box of an answer, so I'm going to keep it going below the cut so that it doesn't drag on and on on the dash

Embarrassingly, I didn't think people would actually look at the playlist. So it's really a jumble of songs that I can mindlessly listen to while I write and battle caffeine addiction. I'm considering re-vamping it to be more vibes-based, but that'll take a bit of work. So as of right now, a lot of the songs on the RC playlist are there purely for their sound rather than the lyrics. It's hard to get in the mood of this fic while listening to my usual tunes ( some would debate me on that, but try writing while Van Halen is blasting in your ears vs. while you're on the road ). However, there are some that have been added for more symbolic/plot-based reasons. *OBVIOUSLY, THERE ARE SPOILERS UP TO 22 UNDER HERE SO DON'T READ ON IF YOU DONT WANT TO SEE THOSE* Here are some of the stand-outs:

Lust for Life, by Lana del Rey ft. the Weeknd for these lyrics specifically: - Cause we're the masters of our own fate - Keepin' me hot / Like July forever - They say only the good die young / that just ain't right The instrumental version of this song is on my YouTube writing playlist ( because I can't find it on Spotify). It's just gorgeous. I put it at the beginning of the playlist because to me, it represents the end of the fic.

Remember Why You Fell in Love by Natalie Madigan - introduced to me by a friend. I fell in love with it because of this lyric: We were adding up sins in the city of angels

Western Nights by Ethel Cain - Trouble's always gonna find you baby / but so will I - To me, a very TSP Dazai song. Trouble's not finding him, though. He's attracted to it, and despite how hard he tries or what opportunity he's given he always comes back to what hurts him. - Also, a song about heading West, which Dazai tries to avoid by globe-trotting in 22 but he ends up in the same place anyway.

Havana by Camila Cabello - STARTED OUT AS A JOKE. However, while I was watching the music video while on call with a friend I realized, well yeah this could be something. - Lyrically, it has little to do with the story, however the feeling of wanting to go back to a place you've never been to, or to a time you've never been to, resonated with me

Serial Killer by Lana del Rey ( unreleased ) - do I even have to explain this one

The Greatest by Lana del Rey - to me, another epilogue-esque song. - We didn't know that we had it all / Nobody warns you before the fall

Summertime Sadness - basically nothing good happens in summer. to any of the characters. - Dazai's birthday, him losing Oda and Ango in the first interlude chapter happens the summer of '56 - RC murder happens July 17th, 1958 - The case gets reopened in SUMMER. But lyrics-wise: 'Kiss me hard before you go' was on my mind from the very moment I started writing this fic.

The RC playlist is not refined at all. It really is just a dump ( like Dazai's shipping container conditions, really ), however the TSP SSKK playlist DB is definitely more in-line with what I want to deliver story/reading-experience wise. Obviously, some songs are there just because they're from the right decade, but many aren't.

Popular, by The Weeknd ft. Playboi Carti and Madonna - I apologize for just how much of the weeknd there is in both of these playlists, but: - I've seen the devil down sunset - Give her a little taste, runnin' back to me / Put it in her veins, pray her soul to keep <- i haven't exactly been subtle about the use of addiction as a metaphor in this fic. Hell, Florida!!! by taylor swift is in the RC playlist ( and specifically, a TSP!Atsushi song ) because it describes escapism. This song goes in the TSP!SSKK playlist because it introduces L.A. from a surface-level point of view, and what their biases of Chuuya are before starting to investigate the case seriously

Moon by the Cab is . . . self-indulgent. that's all I'll say about that.

Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking - 'to know you is to love you' - ALSO a very trippy soundscape. I had it, and quite a bit of Donna Summers on while writing the Tycheron mind-meld scene.

Disturbia ( originally by Rhianna ) covered by the Cab in Punk goes Pop. - you're in the city of wonder - Better think twice, your train of thought will be altered / So if you must falter, be wise Just, a classic song for Atsushi and The AR's relationship in this fic.

Roman Holiday by Halsey, which is kind of a reference to one of my favorite movies ( Roman Holiday starring Audrey Hepburn ), is just such a good coming-of-age song.

Every Breaking Wave by U2 - Baby every dog on the street / Knows that we're in love with defeat.

All that to say, I think I'm going to have to do some serious reconstruction on both playlists in order to feel satisfied with them. the RC playlist is kind of out of my hands now ( as evidenced by my influx of Spotify followers . . . hello everyone ), but I think I can get away with organizing it and stuff with little effort.

#ask #hi anon!#The Second Perspective #writing

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tobstr · 18 days ago

Text

Hidan x reader

It's our favorite jashinist guys!!

I might rewrite it in the future I'm not sure if I liked how this one played out 🤷

If you've seen my other one shot you would know that I'm pulling my inspiration from @immoralimmortals

Im a real big fan of their fic a song with ten names and decided to make my own one shot backed around each of the akatsuki relationships with the reader

Oh btw! The readers name is takara same thing applies here!!

Now just below is the fic ↓

Hidan was a religious man

one who worshiped his lord with blood

and offered tributes of death and destruction for his lord

jashin, such a holy name

one that gifted him an angel

takara

a lady that jashin himself had sent for him

he didn't believe it at first, till jashin showed him her beauty

not to mention the wonderful melodies she brought with her

…

there she was as radiant as ever

the jashinist didn't quite understand intimacy like how most would

he enjoyed hurting and destroying things, leaving his mark on the world in the name of jashinist

He found pleasure in both his own and the pain of others

And yet here he laid his head in her lap

resting on her pale dress

her eyes were closed

as she lightly dragged the sharp blade of a kunai across his skin

if she applied any pressure shed surly cut him

it made him antsy

she was so gentle

yet she carried so much sorrow

and a sin of her own

he had found her frazzled and scared

and yet, she had it in her to kill

just that had made him believe jashin had set them to meet

he could almost say it was meant to happen

his lovely angel…

hed carve her sins into a prayer...

To clear her head and rid her of sorrow

…

she pressed down just a it more

the pain was almost euphoric

blood seeped into her dress

dying what was white to red

she continued to slit and slash at him

much to his delights

His hand reached out to the hazy light above him

the tips of his fingers leave marks of blood on her face as his hand cupped her cheek

he could feel the blood loss seeping into him

it felt so nice, he was on cloud 9

he felt warm, a smile tugged at his lips as he half lidded stared up at her

It was ephoric

she was glowing like an angel

she was here all for him

and gosh red complimented her skin so well

his eyes flicker closed for a moment

…

she was glorious

covered in blood

everyone else died around them

a wonderful tribute to their lord

he met with her in the clearing of the village looking at the wonderful destruction they had caused

his hands held hers, hands red and pure a symbol of their love

he brushed her hair out of her face hands now cupping her cheeks

her eyes were closed

at this moment he felt truly happy

what better then to express his admiration for his angel

he firmly held her still as he pressed his lips against hers

the light taste of iron on his tongue

…

she leaned back

looking down at him his head on here lap

his blood on her pale dress

she was beautiful

her eyes glimmered so nicely

she smiled, creases forming in the corner of her mouth

she was so soft, so gentle with the way she harmed him

she was delicat, like glass

he was careful not to break her

what a pitiful state she would be in

hed wouldn't want to see her so pathetic

hell hold her close

nice and tight

no one could take her from him

she could never break

she was so small

the symbol of jashin pressed between them

oh he was grateful for his lord

he'd never doubt him again

what a great disciple she was

wonderful listener too

he could never find a replacement

not ever in is immortal life

she was his angel...

…

And just like that ...

It all faded away...

lazy eyes opened, he was annoyed his dream was cut short

it hadn't even gotten to the good part

…

maybe it wasn't so good he dreamed of her so often …

And here he thought she was the one clinging to him

#hidan x reader #akatsuki #akatsuki x reader #akatsuki oneshots #hidan naruto #naruto x reader #oneshot #aswtn fic #aswtn #fanfic #naruto #naruto shippuden #i still need to edit this #im not sure i like it #ehh oh well...

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aaronstveit · 4 months ago

Note

hi there! you said in your tags that the latest chapter of deep end contains the two scenes you built the entire fic on. i hope i'm not too nosy but i was wondering if you could tell us more about those two scenes? <3

omg hi anon!! yes i would LOVE to tell you more about those two scenes 🫡 gonna put this beneath the cut because i am a certified yapper and this WILL be longer than i intend it to be

the scenes in question are the two arguments with cosette and grantaire at the end. the cosette argument in particular is the basis of so much of this fic — the line "The dutiful martyr Enjolras, who has a flag where he should have a heart." was one of the very first things i wrote for deep end. not a very charitable place to begin from when it comes to enjolras' characterization, but even when i first wrote it, it was less about who enjolras was and more about how he was perceived.

okay i just scrolled allllllllll the way back to the very beginning of the edit history in my original deep end document (still titled "enjolsette siblings?" btw) and first of all i started writing this in MARCH which is wild to me. that was the month i finished reading les mis. wow. anyway apparently i wrote the first drafts of both these scenes in the same evening, and i'm honestly surprised by how much of them remained unchanged in the final version. at the time that i wrote them, they both occurred in chapter 8 of what i PLANNED to be 10 chapters. that's also extremely funny to me. there was really a time when i thought i could contain this story to 10 chapters...

when i wrote these chapters, i hadn't even written enjolras and cosette meeting yet. the original draft of the grantaire argument didn't have enjolras realizing he was in love with grantaire then. i was still in the first 10k of writing deep end when i wrote them. all that existed before these arguments were the original draft of chapter 1, half of the original draft of chapter 2, and the conversation with combeferre in chapter 5 that begins with combeferre saying "You've been spending a lot of time with Grantaire lately." so when i say these scenes are the basis of the entire fic, i really mean it. the whole time i was writing, i was pushing enjolras toward this point.

from the moment that i began writing deep end, it was intended to be an exploration of enjolras & his ideas of duty and justice. it has spiraled into being a story about a lot of other things, but in the kitchen with cosette, it comes down to this again. it comes down to: enjolras, and what he thinks his duty is, and just how wrong he is.

because he is wrong. money, whether she wants it or not, isn't going to "fix" cosette. there is no "fixing" cosette, because she's not broken. has she been hurt? yes. did their father fail her? undeniably. but depositing a check into her bank account isn't the answer to this. enjolras wants to heal her in some material sort of way, and that just isn't possible. all he can do is be her brother.

so, i had to take enjolras to that place. i had to make him obsess over "paying for his father's sins." i had to make him stressing himself out over the money. i had to make him love cosette without understanding it. and i had to make him terrible.

i love making enjolras terrible, i won't lie. a lot of the time when i'm writing, i like to see how terrible i can make him without alienating him completely from the reader. when i was trying to decide what line from this chapter to use as the summary, i sent a few options to my friend cossette, who read an earlier draft of this fic. she chose the line about him being "capable of being truly terrible" for me, because she said that was kind of the whole thing i was going for.

and it was! for him to be able to say the things he says in this chapter — from telling cosette "Look what he did to you!" to him saying to grantaire "Your chest is even emptier than mine. All you have is an empty bottle and a half-assed joke." he HAS to be terrible. these are terrible things to say!

unfortunately, i think they're also very human things to say. i joke a lot about how much i enjoy making characters say the worst possible things to each other, but it's true. i love doing it. because i think it's so tragically human. especially when you're saying these things to a person that you love. it's easy to hurt the people we love, because we know them well enough to know just where to hit them.

when enjolras hurts cosette, it's mostly by accident. he is coming from a good place, but going all about it wrong. when he hurts grantaire, it is with intent. he and grantaire have spent years hurting each other. when enjolras finds himself falling after fighting with cosette, it's too easy for him to cling to the closest familiar thing: fighting with grantaire.

building up to the fight with grantaire was a different beast. whereas the argument with cosette is borne from misguided ideas of justice, the fight with grantaire is entirely personal. as i was writing deep end, i had to write an enjolras and a grantaire who could come to this place, in very different ways. enjolras had to find himself leaning on grantaire; he had to be in more pain than anyone realized, including himself; he had to be terrible. grantaire, in contrast, had to have some amount of self control; he had to be someone who could be leaned on; he had to be able to walk away. the grantaire we meet in chapter 1 meets very little of these requirements. his development is just as important as enjolras', even if he isn't the main focus.

this answer is, as predicted, much much longer than i intended so i will wrap things up. when writing longform fic, i tend to start with the worst thing and work my way outwards from there. these two scenes are the worst things. because i knew where he was going, i knew while i was writing that i had to shape and enjolras who would find himself saying and doing the worst things he could. that's why he's cruel to grantaire in the first few chapters, why he finds himself arguing with grantaire despite knowing better, why he constantly finds himself self-destructing. i always tell everyone that deep end is about enjolras beating the marble statue allegations, and that's never truer than it is in chapter 18.

for the record, you are always welcome to stop by and ask me about deep end! i have soooooo much director's commentary and i love to yap. i could talk all day about what happened in the original draft, what was added later, ideas i toyed with, why i made the decisions i did, etc. thank you so much for this ask <333 i had lots and lots of fun answering it even if my answer is pretty much as long as deep end herself.

#<333333333 thank you so much i loveeeeeee talking about deep end hehe #okay i am going to bed now because it's almost 3am and it's STORMY but my askbox is always open!! mwah mwah #answered #anonymous #love letters only💛#deep end tag #also i'm not proofreading this answer so my humblest apologies if this doesn't make any sense whatsoever

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princessroyal95 · 2 years ago

Text

My wife. My life (Charlotte Cracker x Reader)

Warning: This chapter contains sexual content. If you don't like this type of content, don't read on, even if it means you'll lose information about the story.

I am complaining of pain! Damn Katakuri and his ways of leaving me on the floor! I love my brother, but I hate it when they throw me on the floor and I have a terrible pain in my back. I admit, I don't like being hurt. I had enough of receiving that blow and having this scar on my face. It's been a long time since that, but it's like all that happened yesterday.

I just want to get this fucking workout over with and go home. Katakuri doesn't seem to like the idea that I'm getting weak. I get a long sigh from him as he squats down to keep up with me. I just get a disapproving look.

"If Mom was watching you, she would have already taken your commanding position."

"And also the post of cookie minister." I hear my little sister Smoothie talking, who has a cup in her hand.

"You don't have to rub that in my face! I'll put my whole body in it until I can sit down." I know I'm getting weak.

"You must have a blank mind. Lately I see you worrying, it is not normal for you." Katakuri extends a hand to me to help me up, which I accepted.

"Is it because of ___?"

I don't even answer Smoothie's question. What's more, my mind goes blank for a few moments thinking clearly about what was happening to me. Could it be because Mom is rushing me to have a grandchild?

"Please tell me you at least slept with her."

"And you're young enough to ask such questions!" It's okay that she's 25, but fuck!

"And you're a 35-year-old man who hasn't fucked his wife yet! You've been married for a year!"

"Smoothie..."

"Sorry, nii-san." Smothie bows her head apologizing.

And I don't blame her. Yes, I've been married to ___ for a year now. Mom didn't really like the idea of one of her sons who is in charge of the commander's post having to get married since, according to her, it was a misdirect. Our obligation is to protect Mom and the kingdom from anyone.

All that changed when a powerful family arrived and wanted to form an alliance with Mom. What they proposed was to give them military weapons in exchange for their daughter marrying one of their sons. At first, she wanted to form an alliance with Perospero; however, the father of this young woman said that he preferred his daughter to marry one of his commanders. And without further ado, Mother agreed to let me marry her.

The truth is that I did not like the idea of getting married. I wanted to continue living my life as a single man and keep my eye on the ball. But I mustn't upset Mother because of what I agreed to.

The next day, after the alliance, I had to meet in person this young woman who, from what I heard, was five years younger than me. Well at least it wasn't a girl who had just turned 18. The young woman was waiting for me at the fountain near Mother's castle. She had her back to me so I couldn't see her face. And when she heard my footsteps, she turned completely around where I could see her beauty.

I remember that moment as if it were yesterday. I was stunned to see her. I didn't know how to react, especially with that smile she gave me. My sickly mind wanted to disfigure her; however, I held back and was able to admire such beauty. And the difference in size was quite enormous. I would say that her head reached the crotch area, so I'm not complaining. That way I wouldn't have to bend over.

When she spoke to me I was stunned by her voice. Sweet and velvety as if she were an angel. A creature that has fallen from heaven to sin with me. That sounded pretty good in my head. ___ calls out to me. A beautiful name for someone so young and so beautiful.

We kept talking until we didn't even realize it was night. We had a good time, I'll give you that. "You know? I heard that he was cruel and ruthless, but, knowing you, it's just the opposite", those were his words as she went off to her bedroom making my cheeks blush at such a confession. Why the hell do I get like an idiot in love when I'm around her?

And I know the answer. ___ made me feel special, like I was a child. I even acted like a child in front of her sometimes, laughing and cuddling. A love that I hadn't received in a long time from my mother or my brothers and sisters. A feeling that I had been longing for for a long time. I didn't want to admit it, but I was falling in love with her until the wedding day came.

I don't know why, but every time it was time to communicate that ___ was definitely going to be my wife, my nerves increased. Maybe because of the excitement of finding someone who liked her and treated me in a special way. God! I can't forget her dress! I had in front of me a goddess that even my brothers congratulated me on. I was sweating my ass off, afraid I was going to screw it up. And it wasn't like that. Everything turned out perfect thanks to her.

Every smile she gave me was a way of telling me not to worry that everything was going well. I feel so extremely stupid around her. She was always by my side talking to the guests and even broke the big cake that Mom had ordered. She is simply perfect in my eyes and you could tell by my smile every time I looked at her.

And now we live together as husband and wife on Biscuits Island where I am the minister of that place. The house is big enough to fit both of us. And on that very night of the wedding it was a great opportunity to hold her in my arms and feel her for the first time. I wished for it and I don't know how many times I dreamed of it. However, it didn't happen. "I'm still not ready to have sex with you," were some very harsh words to my head and my heart.

I decided to give her time to get used to this new life. And that meant sleeping on your own, too. Me in one room and her in another. Shit! Don't I know how to trust me? Why does she run away from me when I just want to be near her? And it's been a year now and we're back to square one. We look like complete strangers.

And now here I am, with my two brothers a little worried about the marriage if everything went well. It's great for me because I have a great wife who takes care of me and gives me all the love in the world. However, not having her for myself only makes me think of many things that are worse than death itself.

Without realizing it, I feel like someone is resting their hand on my shoulder making me look up and she was my sister. It makes me angry that she's taller than me, but she's half legged, after all.

"Why don't you talk to her? Talking solves things."

"It's not easy," I plead with my eyes closed.

"If you don't solve this problem, Mom won't hesitate to break the alliance." My eyes open wide when I hear Katakuri's words.

"I will never part with her! Never!" I shout to both of them facing each other. "Mom can't take away what makes me happy!"

"So work it out if you don't want things to get worse."

And he is right. Katakuri was always right about one thing. I sat down with my head and then I left that room ready to go to Biscuits Island. The truth is that it was already being done and it was about going home to be with her.

Just talking solves things, but what if we really don't solve things? Will Mom really break the alliance if I don't have a child with her? I don't mind having a child right now, I just want to share a bed with her. Waking up in the morning and knowing that she has been sleeping with me all night. To see her smile and to say good morning to me.

That's all I ask for in my life. Fuck! Is it that hard? Thanks to my sister Brûlée's mirrors I got home. It was a kind of shortcut and the truth is that my sister's ability was an advantage. I was already in front of my home. Big and luxurious made of all kinds of candy. I breathe in the atmosphere with all the tranquility of the world and then release it on my lips. It's now or never. I must talk to her.

I open the door of my house and the first thing I hear are the footsteps of ___ walking back and forth. At this hour I suppose she is setting the table.

"I'm home now," I shout, announcing my arrival as usual.

"Welcome, darling." And, as always, she welcomes me from the entrance with a smile. I blush like an idiot when she calls me like this, I'm not used to it. "I thought you were going to be late, you know, because of Katakuri-san's training."

"My brother actually took pity on me and let me go," I lie.

"That's great. Come, dinner is ready."

How this woman takes care of me. I'm a disaster for certain things and I just didn't expect my life to change because of her. My wife. I still didn't believe it. I smile like an idiot when I think of that name in my head.

My steps become firm as I approach the table with the dishes already on top of me. As neat as ever. I would have scattered everything without a second thought and eaten like a pig as I used to do when I was a child. And my eyes go to the kitchen which was not far away. I approach to lean on the entrance, watching my wife concentrate on her task. Fuck, in that position I would like to hug her. So small and so delicate. Although when she gets angry she is a thousand times worse than me.

"I must do it. It's my chance," with that thought in my head, I walk over to where I was ___ to lean my whole body over and embrace her, feeling her jump in surprise. God, how I missed this feeling of closeness to her. I feel calm and relaxed.

"Cracker, are you okay?"

"I'm great." I can't tell you how relaxed I feel being with you.

"Has Katakuri-san done anything to make you this way?"

"Like what?"

"Cuddly and unloving." She just laughs sweetly. "Although the truth doesn't bother me."

"You would never bother."

"When it comes to clothes scattered on the floor, yes."

"Because I am lazy at picking them up."

"You idiot."

Now or never. This is my big chance. I want to do it with her, I've always wanted it and I've wanted it badly. I raise my arm to hold that ladle that was in her hand receiving a sound of surprise from her. Without waiting for it, I turn her completely around and without any effort, I make her sit on the countertop, thus having a little more height. My hands begin to run down her thighs, trying to tempt her. I want her to play along.

"Cracker, what are you doing?" From her tone of voice, I got the slight feeling that she wasn't liking it.

"Playing." A slightly hoarse sound comes out of my throat as I decide to lick her earlobe.

"Cracker, stop, I'm with the food."

"I want dessert," I say with a broad smile on my lips, "and it's right under my nose.

"Cracker...," she calls to me, but I ignore her completely. I just listen to my instinct that I wanted this so badly, "Cracker stop." My hands ascend to the inside of her thighs wanting to reach that forbidden part of her being. I feel my body starting to emanate that warmth that I know so well. I was getting excited about it. "Cracker stop!"

And, for the first time, after a year of marriage, I feel ___'s hands and legs leaning on my body and pushing me hard away from her. I just look at her in confusion without understanding why she rejected me like that. She always accepted every mime from me because she usually does it with me. Now it's different. Something strange resurfaces inside me. My heart was pumping hard without understanding why. I just looked at her in surprise.

I see how she embraces herself as if protecting herself from me. Is she afraid? Have we been together so long and I see that she is afraid? I couldn't help it, I was getting angry in a supernatural way. I never saw her behave that way. I would never hurt her. I clench my teeth and fists where my knuckles turn white from the pressure. I couldn't take it anymore. I exploded.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?!" I scream all over the house and watch as she jumps out of the room at my scream. "This is the first time in a long time you're looking at me with fear, like you're afraid I'm going to hurt you! I would never fucking hurt you!"

She says nothing. She just shuts up about my sudden attack, all the more reason to piss me off!

"We've been married a year and I've given you enough time to get used to this new life! I'm sick of waiting! You don't know how much I want to make you mine and hear my name groan!" I hold my hands over my head trying to think clearly what I was going to say. But the rage consumed me. "And the worst thing is that we don't share a bed!"

"Cracker... it's hard to explain..."

"What is difficult to explain?" I repeat that phrase, as I approach the table and, with one movement, I break it into pieces.

"Cracker, please stop!"

"What's hard to explain?! Tell me!"

"I can't..."

I feel like my heart was breaking into pieces as if bullets were being fired into it. Why are you making me suffer? Could it be that...?

"It's because of my face, isn't it?"

I get a surprised look from her as if she didn't expect that sentence.

"It's because of this scar, isn't it?" I reach out my hand to my face touching that wound that runs all over my face. "You are afraid to see a monster like me at night and that he will hurt you."

"Cracker is not what you..."

"I thought I'd found someone who didn't care about the way I was. Who accepted me as I am." And, for a long time, I feel something falling down my cheeks. I was crying, letting out all that pain. "You gave me everything I didn't have as a child. Love, compassion... And now... And now my heart is aching."

"Cracker...," she was going to say something, but I stopped her.

"Leave me... I want to be alone."

I didn't want to see her face because of the pain I was feeling emotionally. It was unbearable as if needles had been stuck in my heart and left me vulnerable for a few minutes. My breathing became heavier every time I approached my room. I slam the door and sit on the bed trying to control all those emotions that have come up instantly. Why are you doing this to me? What did I do?

With heaviness, I take off my shoulder pad and my shoes without wanting to do anything. The kilt was already in the way, so I threw it hard across the room. And reluctantly, I'm getting rid of my traditional hairstyle, turning off the highlights in my pigtails first. I feel my world falling apart. There is no longer any reason to continue living in this shitty life.

Now, releasing all that pressure from my hairstyle cascading down my back, I bring my hands to my face trying to suppress those tears that wanted to come out. I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't want to suffer anymore. I just wanted to know the truth. That's all I ask.

My ears get louder when I hear ___ knocking on the door. I did not answer. I didn't want to see her. I was physically and mentally broken. However, she opened the door no matter what I said. Her steps are slow and steady at the same time. She was staring at the floor and I could see her feet. She was in front of me and I didn't want to look up to see her.

"I told you I want to be alone," I grunt in annoyance.

"Cracker, I can't stand it anymore and even more so knowing that I hurt you."

"You want a divorce, don't you?"

"No, I just want you to listen to me and then make a decision whether to stay with me or not."

Will you tell me what was going on? Why are you avoiding me? I didn't say anything about it. I just hear a little sigh from her understanding the situation.

"Remember I told you that I used to be married?

"Yes, I remember."

"I was very young, but my father wanted to form an alliance with that man through the wedding because he had so much power. I didn't refuse, I wanted to do his will. ___'s voice was firm and courageous. "Everything was perfect in the marriage, but all that changed." Now it changes to one of fear as if remembering an atrocious past. "One day, he came home drunk, he didn't stop screaming like a madman. I asked him to stop, but everything was in vain. He hit me... he raped me..."

My head automatically goes up when I hear those words on the young lady's lips. How could anyone hit someone like her? So beautiful and so perfect. And even more so, raping her.

"My first time was not pretty. From that day on, she started to mistreat me and treat me as if I were an object. I told my father and he understood the situation. I asked for a divorce and separated from that man."

"___..."

"I couldn't sleep, I always had nightmares about that man and I even had to go to the doctor to get checked." His body began to tremble and he took his hands to his body as protection. "I had already healed from the bruises and the vaginal tearing, but I didn't fully recover mentally. My doctor told me that I didn't have any cure for that remedy, that time would tell. And he told me that if I didn't heal my mind I... I..." She becomes a little choppy as if she will have a hard time saying what she fears so much. "I could not have children."

My pupils dilate instantly when I hear those words from her. Couldn't I have children because of that? Would it have affected her so much? I see how her cheeks are decorated by a few tears from her not bearing it anymore.

"I wanted to tell you, really. But I was so scared that I even feared that if you told your mother, maybe our alliance would be broken. I was afraid of not giving you children because of that trauma, that I would not serve as a wife. You are the first man who made me feel like a fool in love and that is why I treated you with affection because I saw in you someone who needed affection. I know that you would never hurt me," she takes a deep breath to continue, "but I can't go on with this fear!

I didn't let her talk anymore. I embraced her with all my strength without hurting her in any way. I didn't want to crush her with my arms. I didn't reciprocate her hug because I know she was surprised by my act. She expected something other than a hug.

"I don't give a shit if you can't give me children," I clarify by separating myself a little from her to look her in the eye and see what I'm saying is real, "I don't give a shit what mum says. I don't give a shit what others think about you."

"But Cracker..."

"What I care about most in this world is being by your side." I hold her hands firmly and decisively. "You are my wife. You are my life. I would kill anyone who dared to speak ill of you behind your back."

Her eyes shone as if she would have liked to hear those words.

"Cracker...," she whispers my name and stops his tears.

"I wouldn't abandon you for anything in the world You're the first woman a cruel and ruthless guy has ever liked."

"But deep down you're like a child. Sweet, brave and with many dreams."

"Because you made me bring out the child inside me." I rest my forehead on hers while looking into her eyes. "I want to share my life with you."

"And I with you, Cracker." Her smile comes back to life giving me that feeling of peace that I wanted so much to have. "I'm sorry if I didn't tell you and hurt you."

"Now it doesn't matter. What matters now is that we are here, you and I, and no one else."

I kiss her with determination, savouring those lips that I so longed to taste again. It was a mixture of strawberries and tears, and yet it was addictive. How long had it been since I had kissed her? I didn't want to think about it. Now my desire is to be with her more than ever. Our mouths move wanting to have more contact with what, playfully, I bite her lower lip receiving a little whimper from her, but I take advantage to invade her mouth with my tongue.

It was a fight of the one who dominated the one and I know perfectly well who was going to win that battle. I, of course. She surrendered completely to me. My hands, leaning on ___'s small back, slowly go through that whole area until they reach her bottom where I squeeze them firmly. I receive a small gasp from her on my lips. My eyes sparkled with pleasure, amused to see her expressions. And decisively, I lift her up to sit astride me. Her look was one of pure confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think?" My voice gets a little hoarse from that kiss.

"Cracker I don't...," I don't let it end because I kiss her again. A kiss that showed love and confidence.

"I want to make love to you," I say resolutely, not separating from her lips, "I want you to forget that trauma. The one you are sharing your bed with is me and not with another man. Be mine tonight, ___. I beg you, I implore you."

It's rare for me to ask for that kind of thing, but for her I would do anything. I just hope she accepts because I couldn't stand to be like that anymore without feeling her. Her little hands explore between my hair, almost intertwining her fingers with them to hold them firmly causing me to grunt. And it wasn't pain, it was satisfaction. She came to my lips to say what I so longed to hear:

"Make love to me, Cracker."

A time bomb is activated inside me and I kiss it with more fury than before. I didn't want to be separated from her. The desire to have her by my side produced an absolute happiness that I could not explain. I kept biting her lips in a dominant way. I had to control my wild side; although, it's impossible. Her perfume, her lips, her skin... everything about her was driving me crazy.

I leave her lips for a moment, which had some scars caused by my bites and I bite her neck leaving some marks. She is mine and nobody else's. I will mark her as many times as I want so that everyone knows who owns her. The gasps of ___ echo throughout the room giving me to understand that she liked the way I treated her. With some shyness, she strokes the entire length of my well-formed back from those trainings of my brother. I just licked and bit the gap between her neck and her shoulder.

My wife lifts her body a bit, wanting to reach a certain area. I was so concentrated that I groaned as I felt my earlobe biting from time to time. God, since when has she become a flirt? I was melting at her bites and the occasional lick. The trousers were already being annoying, they were squeezing me in a supernatural way.

Forgive me, but it was impossible for me to control my animal instinct. I tore the top of that dress where I heard a slight groan from her. I receive an inquisitive look as if she didn't like it.

"Cracker, that was a dress your sister gave me as a present.

"Fuck the dress, you're prettier this way." I look at her for a moment already looking at her half-naked body. I'm grateful that I'm tall and can see every detail of her.

"You are a pervert." She She blows up the annoying cheeks to which I hold her face with my hand and deflates them.

"You're getting to know my playful side, my dear."

With the other hand free, I hold her wrists easily by raising them to the height of her head. I like having her like this, at my mercy and so helpless, and that I am the one who provokes those moans that come from her lips. Oh, but there was one thing left that covered the view. I smile like a maniac where she only trembles with emotion? I wouldn't know, but it wasn't fear she had in her eyes.

I went over to that annoying garment that covered her breasts and took it with my teeth. A few seconds later, I pulled it out of its socket, freeing both its mounts from that annoying bra.

"Cracker, we need to talk about 'don't tear my clothes when you're excited'." For one reason, I found it funny.

"I think that talk won't do much good since I'll keep doing it."

"At least do me the favor of... Ah!"

Sensitive, huh? I already put a breast in my mouth without any difficulty and started sucking it as if it were a hungry little child. To make it easier, I raised her body a little more with one of my arms so that she could sit down and her breasts were at the same level as my face. From time to time I watched my wife's face. The faces I made made made my limb harder than I even think it grew a little more than I thought. Fuck! Look what this girl is doing to my body.

I let go of her wrists for a moment to hold firmly the other breast, massaging it. I had no difficulty at all as my hand was big enough. However, she rests her hands on my hair and squeezes them tightly where I grunt with satisfaction almost biting one of her nipples. I was liking it, and I wanted to prove it. I give a slight suction on her nipple to release it suddenly where I get a little moaning from her.

I raise my eyes, amused. Fuck, I was getting horny and it was fun to see her face. I was panting trying to catch my breath, her face was fucking sexy. "If it goes on like that, it'll explode", she was mentalizing me. And with a rather playful look, I took my hand towards one of her buttocks and gave a slight slap where she moaned in surprise.

"Cracker!"

"What? I wanted to know what it sounded like." Another hit, another sound. "And I like it."

"Stop it! It's not funny, you pervert!"

With one quick move, I lay her down on the bed and stay on top of her. My knees were placed on each side of her waist while my hands were resting around my beloved's head.In this position I could feel perfectly the difference in height and I was grateful that the bed was big.

"With my tongue I can run perfectly all over your body, did you know that?"

"That's not fair. Inflate those cheeks again, as I loved to bother her. "You're too big and I'm too small next to you."

"But you can feel my whole being."

Shyness is what you reflect now in her eyes when I said that. She looks so pretty like that. I love that side of her. She puts her hands on my well formed chest touching them slowly. She had already touched them, but this time, it was different. The air we breathe there is sexual tension between the two of us. Our caresses went beyond affection. It was desire and we could not resist it.

I give light sighs every time her hands descend touching every area of my being until they reach the kerb of my trousers. I thought I had taken them off, but I can see that I haven't. My eyes are fixed on his and I could see desire, he even bit his lip. Fuck! I'm on fire and the bitch wouldn't stop playing with my garment. Take it off, damn it! I'm begging you with my eyes! And as if my pleas were heard, she pulls down my trousers along with my boxers showing my manhood.

Her lips form a kind of "o" looking at my member with surprise. I can even notice how his body trembles before such magnificence. I take his hands delicately so that he can rest them on it and start caressing it. I can't deny it, I've been shaking and a hoarse groan is coming from my throat.

"It's huge."

"I know," I smile amused at his expression.

"You're just huge."

"Will you still say I'm huge?"

"It's true."

I laugh lightly approaching her face to kiss her lips while my hands continue to explore her body. Memorizing little by little every pore of her skin until I get rid of what was left of press on her. I can smell the excitement. It was an exquisite smell. I hold her buttocks tightly listening to a small sound of protest.

"I can't stand the urge to stick my dick in your dirty vagina."

"Don't say such things!" My fingers were already caressing her entrance. It's so wet. How can you tell that I drive you crazy, huh?

"But it's the truth." I bite her chin while sticking about two fingers inside her. It was already wet and I didn't need to prepare it.

I move them with some speed receiving those moans that I so much wanted to hear. I didn't look away from her at all times. I even licked my lips in real excitement. My dick was screaming at me to penetrate it now. And that's what I'll really do. I attract the body of my beloved while I get high, sitting on the bed with her on top.

We both moan at the same time as we feel the touch of our sexes. Her arms surround my neck as support and I hold her hips. We were ready to be one. There was no turning back. I wanted her and she wanted me. I kiss her sweetly so it's up to me as I help her get down and stick my dick in her once and for all.

Oh for Kami! What a nice feeling. She hugs me tightly which even bites my neck so I grunt slightly. I hold firmly her ass helping her to climb up and down on me. It's exquisite to hear her breathing near my ear as we bonded. It is delicious this feeling. As I wished to feel it.

Our movements are increasing each time we felt the friction of one against the other. I didn't stop kissing her and she didn't stop kissing me. ___'s hands intertwine again in my hair giving a little pull causing her to growl even more as I slightly bite her neck leaving a mark.

That room was becoming a witness of our love. Two bodies merged into one. Sweating like never before and that the movements were going faster. I didn't want this to end, it was too exciting, but I know that at some point this would end. Each time her vaginal walls were pressing hard on my member giving me the impression that an orgasm was about to come. Just a little more, little one. I want to feel you even more.

I am about to end too. I hold firmly her hips while I get on my knees without separating from her at any moment wanting to penetrate her with more strength than before. She nails her nails to my back giving a tremendous scream reaching the blessed orgasm. And I come inside her and can't stand it anymore. Fuck, this tasted great to me. I attract her to my body by hugging her with love and she kisses all over my face.

We both didn't feel exhausted from sharing this moment, but it was worth it. I kept looking at her face. She was so beautiful when she was tired. A smile forms on my face in a silly way that she notices and just laughs.

"Do I have monkeys on my face?"

"Oh, not at all," I honestly draw her body to me, "it's just... you look pretty like that."

"Silly," she lightly slaps my chest while laughing.

"___," I call out to her, receiving her attention in me, "I love you."

"I love you too, Cracker."

One month later...

I'm fed up with Katakuri throwing me down! Can't he be a little more gentle with me? I'm getting old! Although I shouldn't complain, I'm in a good mood because they've taken the reward out of my head. I'm evenly matched by my sister Smoothie. I don't know how that girl does it to outdo me.

And another day where I come home and want to be with my dear wife. I will have already put on a lover's face.

"I'm home now!"

"Oh, you're back at last."

"Sorry if I was late, my brother kept me," I apologize by patting ___'s head.

"It's all right. Come, please." She grabs my hand, leading me to the kitchen. I can feel her excitement.

My eyes are stuck on the counter with a big box to which I raise my eyebrow a little curious and strange. What does that do there? I didn't quite understand that I was even looking at the girl who was only smiling.

"It's for you."

"For me?" I stress the question a little by holding that box. "It's not my birthday yet."

"Don't be silly and open it."

Why so much effort? Well, what a remedy. Carefully, I open the box, I don't want to come across anything unexpected. I enlarge my eyes when I see what was inside. What the hell? Subject as a kind of shirt, but it was too small. This won't even fit! And there was not only one but a few more. Is this some kind of joke? I didn't get it.

She just smiled funny in my face for not understanding anything. Fuck! I'm not in a position to think! And the last thing I see is a letter. I hope this paper tells me what's going on and doesn't leave me in doubt. I start reading it:

"Hello!

I know you don't know us, but very soon you will, just be patient. There are only eight months left for you to see us.

We want to ask you a favour: take good care of Mum in these eight months because it will be a very long process. Protect her from any illness. Make sure she eats well so that we grow strong and healthy. If she gets angry with you, you only have to understand that we are to blame. When Mummy feels that we are moving, we want you to be the first to feel our kicks.

Make Mom happy because we know you are the best dad in the world.

With love,

Your children."

I was shaking when I finished reading the letter. My eyes were fixed on the phrase "my children". I turn my head a little towards the clothes and then towards the belly of ____. This is not possible. This has to be a dream. She is...

"I'm pregnant, Cracker."

Without being able to avoid it, I hug her tightly, holding her up in the air while I rest my head on her belly, listening to her laugh.

"Since when?"

"Since a month ago."

"My children. How many are there?

"From what the doctor saw, there are two. I couldn't tell you if they were twins or fraternal twins.

I was happy at this news that I kissed her, not once or twice, but many times that she was kissing me back. She is pregnant. I cured her trauma. Now I have to take care, not only of her, but also of our children.

I cannot deny that. She is my wife. She is my life. And I would kill anyone who hurt her.

#one piece #reader insert #x reader #charlotte cracker #romance

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estinininininen · 1 year ago

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*takes deep breath* first fanfiction posted online in nearly twenty years. Final Fantasy IV, i dunno how many words, probably around 2000? unbeta'd. just after the sealed cavern debacle. Cursing and referenced violence. Edge POV, but it's actually about Cecil, Kain, and Rydia:

Kain's betrayal has split them into pairs: Cecil and Rosa, and Edge and Rydia. They each stare at the others as if they have gone mad.

"He's not usually mean, or, or, or cruel like this! You've known him for long enough to see that!" Rosa says.

"I don't know him at all," Edge says. "Bastard always hid his eyes and never talked to us!"

"He was struggling against the spell," Cecil says. "He didn't mean to do this. I'm sure of it."

This pauses the argument, because Cecil is the only one sitting hunched over, resting to recover from blood loss. Edge stares down at him. He feels his face twisting with many emotions that will be obvious even behind the veil. Pity, anger, disbelief.

Quiet until now, Rydia pipes up. "He's not like you, Cecil. He's not good deep down."

Rosa turns away and does not try to hide or stop her tears. Cecil huffs at Rydia, for a moment almost like an indulgent parent unable to scold a child, instead of the focused holy warrior Edge has grown to rely on. Considering what little he knows of Cecil and Rydia, the thought of him patronizing her, on behalf of this Kain guy, for a moment it makes Edge want to - want to smack Cecil, or bundle Rydia in his cloak and take her away. Snatch that holy headband right of his pretty face and huck it in the lava.

There is some great sin hovering over him and Rydia, and also Kain, Edge knows. None have answered when Edge questioned what it is, what Cecil did to her, how Kain fit into it. Rosa deferred to them. Each said what amounted to, That's for the others to share when they're ready, and even if Edge weren't a ninja he'd know that was a desperate trick to hide from the problem. It was only a step removed from "Ask your mother," and then being told "Ask your father."

Edge had wanted to ask the Eidolons. He was going to, but then he saw how Queen Asura and King Leviathan looked down at the two Baron men, bowed low and motionless before them, far longer than necessary. He decided not to, and told himself it was for diplomatic reasons, not wanting to test the new connections between Eblan, Baron and the Summons. It was not because he was scared reopening that wound would get him or the two fools blown to bits. Not at all.

Into the puckered silence, Rydia says, "Well, he's not. Kain's not a good person. I haven't forgotten what he . . . what he said to you at Mist."

Cecil's head snaps up. "What?"

"He threatened you," Rydia said, whispering. Her eyes are looking at Cecil and also at some distant memory. "He threatened you, he told you to kill me, and it was before he was under Golbez' thrall."

Rosa turns back to them, jaw dropping. Edge is certain he's done the same, but he's a terrible politician and can't hold his face so he's not sure.

"I was seven," Rydia says. "I was a child, and you were the one who did the right thing, and Kain wasn't going to so, so I don't, I don't want to hurt you or Rosa but he is not a good person-"

"Rydia!" Cecil says. "Rydia, no, that's not right-"

"I had ears, Cecil," Rydia says. "I was seven but I could hear you." She curls her fists at her side. Rydia is not actually quick to anger, Edge realizes. All the bantering and frustration she has with the prince of Eblan is nothing compared to how furious she is now. She is just as quiet when ready to kill.

But Cecil is still going on. "That's not what happened. No. No!" He shakes his head. "He was threatening me," he says.

Total silence falls.

"He was threatening me," Cecil says, and hangs his head.

"What?" Rydia says.

"What?" Rosa says.

Cecil looks up, open his mouth, then checks himself, slaps his hand on the ground, and looks back down.

"Will someone please explain to me what the hell happened at Mist?" Edge says.

Rydia's brow furrows into little lines that even in the strange moment Edge can't help but find cute. He is not prepared for what Rydia says next. "Kain and Cecil killed my mum's Eidolon, which killed her," she says.

Edge looks toward Rosa, who does not seem surprised.

Cecil sighs. "We were ordered by Cagnazzo, pretending to be King Odin, to open the way to Mist and deliver a package. He ordered us not to open it until we arrived and presented it to the town leaders for all to see. It was a bomb ring, and Golbez must have been watching us for the moment to set it off."

Cecil is good at compartmentalizing and military summaries, but Edge see this is hard for him. He rocks backwards and looks up at the stone ceiling of the cave entrance. "The first blast ignited almost the whole town, and then living bomb monsters came out of the ring and began hunting down the survivors. Kain and I were safe in a small circle near the ring, but smoke was going to kill us if we stayed or tried to help anybody. So we ran."

Edge looks towards Rosa again. It is still knowledge she has heard before. Rydia's face is like glass, still and smooth but ready to shatter at a moment.

Cecil continues. "On the edge of the village we heard a girl crying next to a dead body. Bombs were still flying behind us, and people who left the town were chased down. I think the only reason Kain and I lived still was because of the ring protecting us from its effects - but I don't know. I will keep guesswork for later. The girl cried that her m, her moth-"

Cecil swallowed and lowered his face to wipe his eyes with one hand.

Rydia spoke. "I told you she died because someone had killed her summon."

Edge fears for a moment the paladin has cracked, because Cecil laughs. "Well, you were saying that to - to anyone who passed by, more like. It's really been ten years for you, hasn't it? Rydia, I'm sorry, it's not been so long for me, and I can still-"

"Keep it together, man," Edge says. He thinks this was the right thing to say, it's not right for Cecil to need comfort from Rydia, but Rydia's focus for the first time snaps to Edge and almost burns a hole right through his skull. He withdraws. Rosa sits down next to Cecil and puts her hand in his.

"Tell me what you mean by Kain threatened you," Rydia says.

Cecil says, "Kain said we needed to kill you. The king wanted you dead. And he drew his lance. That's what you remember?"

"Yes," Rydia whispers.

"I was between you and Kain. He was preparing to attack me if I listened to him and tried to hurt you."

Rosa gasps and says, "You wouldn't have done that, Kain knew that-"

Cecil cut her off. "No, he didn't know that. When it came down to it, I was a dark knight who had just come back from kill- . . . from murdering civilians in Mysidia and stealing their crystal. I had told Kain and everyone I saw in Baron that I felt it was wrong but I had still done it."

Cecil stops and Edge knows he is about to roll around in his guilt like a pig in mud, but the story is not done. Rydia cuts off Cecil's reverie. "You pushed Kain back," she says. "Away from me."

"I pushed Kain back and said I wouldn't hurt a child. Kain said that he thought I'd say that. I don't think you heard that. Kain's an ass, I'm not denying that, but he thinks quick. The fire was there, bombs were flying, and you seemed ready to bolt. If he wanted to save you, Rydia, he couldn't wait for me to figure out my loyalties. I had the bomb ring."

Rydia exhales through her nose. "And you hadn't realized yet this was what Cagnazzo intended."

"Until Kain said so. If I . . . if I had been alone and saved you . . . Well, I wouldn't have made it that far, Kain is the only reason I . . . but if I had been alone, and thought, halfway through returning to Baron, 'I can't come back with this child' . . . I'm not sure what I would have done . . . "

Edge snaps.

"You silver-haired bastard," he snarls. "You would have killed her?"

He will not forget Cecil's expression for a long time. "The king was the only father I had ever known," he says. "I didn't think I would ever kill people begging me to just leave, but I did. I already had. For him."

"You are fucked in the head," Edge says.

"Yes," Cecil says.

"I knew you were the dark knight that attacked Mysidia, but wow. And what, you think a different guy who says he's your father cancels out this shit? Wipes the slate clean?"

"No," Cecil says.

"Would you do whatever I asked if I said I was your father?" Edge says.

"Edge," Rydia says. "It's between me and Cecil."

Edge continues, because he can't stop the fire building behind his eyes, and if he doesn't speak it will come out as something even worse. "Holy dipshit," he says.

"Right," Cecil says.

"Edge!" Rydia says. "Shut up and leave him alone. This is the part I've worked out with him already. Numerous times. You're not my, my protector or whatever it is you're trying now," she says.

"What? You think that - that I'm trying to - ? That is the last thing on my mind," Edge says. "There's too much at stake, here, way more than I realized when I first met you lot, and it turns out the man I've been trusting, everyone's been trusting, to stop Golbez is an asshole who couldn't figure out it's wrong to kill a child without his even bigger asshole friend pointing it out?"

"Edge, you're not listening. He did figure it out," Rydia said. "Wait, no, I mean, he didn't really need to ask that question. Of course he didn't. He's Cecil. Have you met him? Haven't you noticed he gets upset if he has to kill a bug?"

Cecil opens his mouth to say something. Rosa hushes him.

Edge's calm center of ninja training is gone. He is gone. His parents are dead, Eblan is in ruins, and Golbez has all but won. He has found emotional limits he didn't know he had and smashed through them like a rampaging chocobo. He yells, "Well I am definitely not flirting with you just because I'm a little concerned! That the man! Who ruined your life! Is here and you don't seem to care-"

"He did ruin my life," Rydia says, as if talking to a child. "And then he saved it." Then she crossed her arms and stared Edge down.

"Rydi-" Cecil says.

"Cecil," Rosa says, in the tensest tone Edge has heard yet from the white mage. Edge sneers down at her. "Well I'm glad someone has him on a leash," he says, and turns to leave the sealed cave.

"Where are you going?" Cecil asks.

"Fuck you!" Edge says. He starts walking. But he feels, dripping at the back of his anger, something like beginning awareness he has . . . not overreacted, but overstepped some boundary with Rydia. He will not call it a "mistake," yet.

"Edge," Rydia calls out to him. "Don't go far."

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

Rydia shakes her head after Edge leaves. "What a . . . What a baby. I don't know the word for it."

"He'll calm down," Rosa says. "I think."

They are silent for too long, and it is jarring when Rosa speaks again. "Do you want me to step outside?" she says. "If you two need to speak?"

Rydia looks at Cecil. "I don't think so, no," she says. "I love you, Rosa," she adds. It is Rydia's way to be open and calm with her feelings, and say them when they occur to her, more Eidolon than human in manners. Rosa is still startled enough that she doesn't say anything besides, "Oh, I uh, I love you too, Rydia."

The weight that Cecil always presses down on himself to move forward has come back. "We shouldn't spend too much time here. The wound has closed and the potion helped the bloodloss. I can recover on the Falcon now."

"Don't push yourself," Rosa says.

"We must tell King Giott. We have all but lost," he says.

"I can't believe that about Kain," Rydia says. "You really think that, that he decided he was going to fight you that quick?"

"Ah," Cecil says, as he shifts to stand up. He presses a hand to the wall. He feels much older than just turned twenty-one. In hindsight, Kain being ready to fling himself against Cecil at a moment's notice looks bad. His thoughts swim. He is not sure if he has improved Rydia's opinion of Kain at all now.

"I wish you had told me earlier," Rydia says. "I would have forgiven him, if he asked. And now he's gone . . ."

Dancing under the stones of their feet, deeper than the foundations of the earth, is the ever-present knowledge Rydia has not said the words "I forgive you" to Cecil yet. Or maybe that is just him. He hopes Rydia has not assumed he already knew if she does or not. He has not asked her.

After today he is not sure he can.

#ffiv #ff4 #final fantasy iv #final fantasy 4 #kain highwind #rydia #rydia of mist #cecil harvey #rosa joanna farrell #edge ffiv #edward geraldine #asura ffiv #leviathan ffiv #closes eyes and hits posts like defusing a bomb

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months ago

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The Bad Decisions Prompt List

Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!

Also read the rules and do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!

I could burn your stuff out in the yard, Slash your tires and key your car

In the back of my Chevy Fogged glass, hot and heavy We committed some deadly sins

I'm just gonna get Messed up in the sheets with a stranger

I watched her walk down A white church aisle wearing white

Well, the sun comes up as I say, good morning, darlin'

When you lose that dress, I lose my head And I'll never find it laying in your bed

Only way to fall out of love is to hate you

I smell his cologne on your shirt, it's hard to breathe in

Crying forever tears for another man

Yeah, it's lookin' like Double shots of whiskey on the rocks

How can she smile when my heart is all shattered I wanna stand up at the altar and scream

Like the story behind that scar

Got a good girl sayin' I'm the only one she wants

Made a promise to me front of God then she left Now she's swearin' the same vows to him

I said, "Ooh, I'm drownin' in the night Oh, when I'm like this, you're the one I trust"

And justify that night you had in his bed

Yeah, I'd do anything with anybody but you

Does he know that her snow colored gown is a lie

You've knocked me down a few times you're tough But I'm getting better at getting back up

blow all my money on a wedding ring

Girl, where you been at? Don't try to lie

You can turn me on with just a touch, baby

Guess I'm the old love And he's the new

It’s who you are inside and what you do For everyone else not just you

So put your high heels on and diamonds around your neck

And you whisper sweet nothings in my ear

Take her hand slow it down

This ain't the first time I've danced with the devil

He'll smell like smoke, taste like beer Tell me all the things a girl wants to hear

I wanna start a family & watch those kids sprout like a tree.

I've been tryna call I've been on my own for long enough Maybe you can show me how to love,

Cussin' the fire outta me

You can try to break me any way you can

You're a fuckin' bitch, hope you know that shit

We both know there'll be consequences But, girl, we're good at making bad-bad decisions

Might not always be in between the straight and narrow

It’s the little things in life that mean the most

This ain’t my last rodeo

I heard a slammin' door This time it damn sure ain't the breeze

I may be bruised but I ain’t broke

The reason why I know what hurts the worst Is only 'cause I learned it from you first

So how can she Be happy ever after me

Look her in the eye when she says I do Hold onto that moment cause you know that you

How many others are you sleepin' with?

You call me up, you're already drunk I tell you off and then hop in the truck

2 a.m. at a Broadway bar She's puttin' her number in my phone

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cryoculus · 2 years ago

Text

— guard dog 03 ⟢

pairing: thoma x assassin!reader

summary: having lived the life you had, you've always known your sins would catch up to you one day. what you didn't expect, however, is to find unlikely friends in the midst of it.

word count: 4.7k words

notable characters: thoma, kamisato ayaka

tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

warnings: nightmares, alcohol consumption, allusions to past murders

header art cr: bear_nyanM on twt

masterlist

It was safe to say that you hardly got a wink of sleep after that.

On top of the unpleasant dream that woke you up in the first place, Thoma’s words made you restless all night. What did he mean you reminded him of himself? Last you checked, you weren’t as overbearing as he was.

But on your mission to make sense of the conversation you’d unknowingly eavesdropped, the sun had eventually pittered through the windows. One by one, your fellow retainers had started waking up.

The day you’d been cleared of any ‘medical conditions’, you were given a futon and locker of your own in the attendants’ bedchambers. There, you shared the same living space as the rest of them—a fact that you’d had a tough time coming to terms with the first few nights.

You’d been so accustomed to taking shelter in caves and abandoned shrines that the thought of all these people falling asleep in your company gave you whiplash.

It’s not as if they knew, though.

Most of them didn’t have the slightest clue. That they shouldn’t trust someone who came out of nowhere just because their superiors insisted. That they shouldn’t be complacent in the company of someone who could massacre them before they could wake up.

“Oi.”

Eyes still heavy with fatigue, you turned to the woman who occupied the space to your right. You sighed. Ayame had already rolled up her futon and was impatiently tapping her foot against the tatami. From the irate look on her face, you could tell that she’d found a new reason to be mad at you today.

Well. You did drug her the first time you met her. And steal all her clothes before attempting to kill the lady of the house. The hostility was well-founded, you thought.

“You’ve been tossing and turning so much that you kept me awake,” she grumbled. “What, your conscience suddenly catching up to you?”

You laughed, smoothing down your bedhead. “Keep dreaming.”

Despite how she spoke to you when she knew no one else could hear, Ayame kept her mouth shut about the truth. You were damn sure that it took every ounce of willpower for her not to rat you out to Ayaka herself, but the poor attendant acted in confidence. Always.

Just how much did Thoma bribe her to keep quiet?

Later that morning, you made your way to the estate’s entrance in spite of your glaring sleep deprivation. It was Madarame Hyakubei who’d disseminated the retainers’ tasks for the day—meaning both Thoma and Ayaka weren’t in the premises.

Of course, you weren’t just going to let a golden opportunity like that slide.

“Mornin’, Miss Kira!”

Freezing in your tracks, you shot the guard who called your attention a wary smile. “S-Sir Hirano, good morning to you, too.”

“Are you…headed out by any chance?” He flashed you a sunny smile with traces of suspicion clearly seen beneath his guise. “Sorry to break it to you, but Master Thoma put us guards on strict orders to keep you safe inside the manor.”

Your eye twitched. The meddlesome bastard…

“Ah? But I won’t take long,” you insisted with a pout. “Just a quick herb-gathering session at Chinju Forest won’t hurt, right?”

As you tried to step around him, Hirano halted you with a large stride of his own—obscuring your path by extending the polearm in his hand.

“No can do, miss. It’ll do us no good if you’re caught out there by the representatives of the Tenryou Commission, you know?” he sighed. “And without Lady Kamisato and Master Thoma to speak on your behalf, it’ll be too easy for them to present a warrant and throw you in jail.”

…Something about the way Hirano spoke made you wonder if Thoma informed the guards of your real identity beforehand.

From what you’d gathered last night, the Commissioner seemed to be in on the whole charade, too. It would make sense for him to alert security should you pull any escape acts while he was away. Just like what you were trying to do right now.

But whether or not Hirano knew about the truth, one thing was for certain.

Everyone in the Yashiro Commission trusted Thoma—so much that you almost found it ridiculous.

Ayame was content with letting things play out, in spite of what happened to her for being in your way. Sure, she harbored a certain degree of resentment for what you tried to do, but you assumed that Thoma must have put in a good word for what he has planned if she was as agreeable to it as she was.

Then there were the guards. They were all under the Yashiro Commission, yes, but at the end of the day, every individual in the Tri-Commission reported to the Raiden Shogun herself. Yet these men decided to turn a blind eye and trusted the judgement of the chief retainer instead.

Last was…the Commissioner. Kamisato Ayato.

His fellow retainers would be easy for Thoma to convince, you were sure. Most commoners didn’t usually question what the higher-ups would order them to do—they just did it. But that wasn’t the case with Ayato.

The Commissioner knew about the attempt you’d made at her sister’s life. And he rightfully questioned Thoma’s decision to keep you captive in the estate, just like any logical head of a clan would do. If he felt like it, Ayato could even overrule the chief retainer’s orders and have you thrown in jail, where you belonged.

But you were still here.

Eventually, you gave up on trying to convince Hirano to let you outside in exchange for doing your share of the daily chores. Today, you were assigned to polish the floorboards in the pavilion, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend every minute of it in careful contemplation.

It’s a bit pathetic, how you let your mind get overrun by thoughts of Thoma, of all people.

He was the man who forced you into a corner. The one who forced this sudden change in lifestyle onto your plate. But you couldn’t help it.

You’ve been alone since you’d fled Yashiori Island all those years ago. Never lingering in one place for too long. Never forging bonds that lasted beyond a written contract.

You could never win people over the way Thoma so effortlessly does everyday.

Now that you thought about it, he was the perfect aide for Ayaka. The perfect guard dog. They shared the same principles, had nearly the same amount of charisma, and balanced each other out in a way you couldn’t quite put into words.

You wondered what it felt like to find a match as perfect as that.

“Ah, Miss Kira? Are you busy? Can you help me carry these to the kitchen…?”

One of the attendants called out, and you immediately snapped out of your momentary trance. You took the time to spare yourself a soft laugh before turning to her. Right. You shouldn’t think about it too much. Doing that would make you falter.

You never falter.

“Yeah! Be there in a sec.”

The next day, you were invited to accompany Ayaka to Konda Village.

Madarame Hyakubei broke the news over breakfast, and you merely nodded along as you sleepily stuffed yourself with egg-on-rice. You didn't sleep any good last night, either.

Though, when Madarame went back to his post at the reputations board, it finally hit you.

You were going outside the estate.

For the first time in two weeks.

In an instant, any semblance of drowsiness had vanished from your body. The idea made you...excited? Overjoyed? You could finally ditch this place and rearrange your plans. Archon knows that the heart of the enemy’s territory wasn’t the most conducive environment to scheme.

But of course, you couldn’t possibly have it as easy as you wanted.

“Nice weather we’re having, huh?”

Thoma was suspiciously cheerful as the three of you made the trip to Konda Village. But you couldn’t exactly file any complaints, since Ayaka didn’t seem to have any problem with his jovial nonsense.

Well. If you can’t beat them, join them.

“Milady, if I may ask, why are you heading over there yourself?” you wondered aloud. “Don’t you usually just let the other retainers take care of matters involving the public?”

Ayaka sighed, keeping her eyes forward. “Miss Kira, you know how the Yashiro Commission is in charge of the cultural and ceremonial affairs of Inazuma, yes?”

You nodded slowly.

“The people of Konda Village are one of our closest associates when it comes to the festivals held at Amakane Island,” she continued. “They coordinate with the Yashiro Commission to make sure each festival is a memorable one. And given the nature of our relationship, it’s only normal for us to…pay our respects where they are due.”

The dismal tone that accompanied her words made you scrunch your face in confusion, but before you could ask her to elaborate further—

“Lady Ayaka? Is that you?”

A girl, no older than ten years old maybe, gaped at the sight of the princess as the ball in her hands bounced idly on the ground. The next moment, she squealed in delight before running straight to Ayaka.

“You’re here,” the girl nearly sobbed. “You’re really here.”

You expected someone of Ayaka’s status to blanche a bit at the girl’s sudden gesture, but the princess crouched down so that her eyes were leveled with hers—smiling kindly.

“I promised, didn’t I, Futaba?” she sighed, smoothing down the girl's braids. “Do you happen to know where Takeru is?”

Sniffling, the girl—Futaba—pulled away. “He’s at the graveyard with Grandpa and the rest. They’ve already begun the preparations but…I wanted to wait for you.”

You didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going on, and could only look at Thoma for some clarity. Not that the chief retainer was much help, though. He merely shot you a look that basically said: you’ll see.

Ayaka let Futaba lead the three of you to the cemetery in the outskirts of the village, where most of its citizens seemed to have gathered in numbers for the day. They were lighting incense for two gravestones in particular.

Upon your arrival, an elderly man who you recognized as the village chief greeted Ayaka with a solemn look in his eyes.

“I’m glad you could make it, Lady Kamisato,” he sighed. “Futaba refused to leave until she was sure you’d show up.”

Ayaka shook his hand sincerely. “Your village has been helping the Yashiro Commission for generations now. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Up ahead, a priestess cited a prayer in honor of the two souls who’d passed, and you wondered if they’d just recently died. But when you saw the names etched onto the surface of each headstone, you felt a crackling chill skid up the length of your spine.

You’ve only been to Konda Village once in the past. For a job assigned by an anonymous contact from Inazuma City’s underworld. You were given the names of the two men he wanted dead by morning, and you’d carried out the task not three hours since it was issued.

Konda Takuya and Sango Akihito. Those were the men you’d taken out this time last year.

Those were the names engraved on the headstones before you.

“Lady Ayaka?”

Snapping out of your stone-cold realization, you watched as Futaba emerged from the crowd with a boy in tow. This one was probably Takeru. Both of them held two bowls in each hand—offering them all to the village chief, Ayaka, Thoma, and yourself.

“It’s not much but…we learned the recipe from a doctor that traveled into the village once,” Futaba said shyly. “Lavender melon soup is said to have some soothing properties that— Big sister…?”

The young girl stared at you with both concern and disappointment when the bowl she’d given you fell to the ground, splattering its contents in the process. Your lungs seemed to tighten as you eyed the rich violet broth—that familiar, sickeningly sweet scent wafting to your nose.

Suddenly, you’re underneath the perpetual thunderstorms of Yashiori as the cold, cold rain beat against your skin once more.

You didn’t know you were shaking so badly until Ayaka put a hand on your shoulder.

“Thoma,” she spoke quietly, but you could feel the weight of her concern through her fingers alone. “Can you accompany Miss Kira for a quick walk?”

The last thing you wanted, of course, was to be left alone with the man who was probably—definitely—behind your distress in the first place.

“What are you trying to do?” you growled, yanking Thoma by his pendant once you’d gotten far enough from the cemetery. “Guilt me into giving it up? Well, I have some news for you. I’ve never turned down a job out of guilt. Not once. Not ever.”

He stared at you passively—those hauntingly green eyes devoid of their usual mirth. Thoma pressed his lips into a thin line before carding his fingers into his golden hair.

And then, he spoke your name. Your real name.

“It was a little tricky to dig up some dirt on you, you know?” The chief retainer sighed, disengaging himself from your grasp. “But of course, I have my ways. Your record is quite interesting, too. Born and raised in Higi Village. Adopted by a doctor named Suzuki Naoko. Killed said doctor in cold blood before traveling to Inazuma City to debut as a mercenary. That’s a loaded resumé for sure.”

It was no surprise that someone like him managed to glean all that in just a few weeks, though some details might have been obscured in the process. You made a reputation for yourself for being nearly untraceable; prided yourself for it, even.

And Thoma here singlehandedly trampled on all that confidence.

“What,” you began, eyes closed as you drew in a long breath, “are you trying to do?”

When you opened them again, Thoma managed a placid smile—one that emphasized the dimples on both of his cheeks. It’s the first time you noticed them, but your mind was in too much of a disarray to think about them too much.

“Reminding you.”

You grimaced. “Of what?”

Instead of just answering directly, Thoma gestured for you to sit with him at the village chief’s front porch. You hesitantly complied.

The heat of the afternoon was near sweltering. Konda Village was smack in the middle of Byakko Plain, and offered no shade whatsoever from the harsh glare of the sun. As you lamented the onset of summer, Thoma nursed his bowl of lavender soup in the silence. You wondered what he thought of the taste.

Then, you set your gaze farther into the distance.

Up ahead, the Grand Narukami Shrine stood tall above all else on the island. Wisps of mystical energy coiled itself around the mountain before disappearing straight into the cloudless sky. You could see it clearly even in broad daylight.

Back then, you never gave yourself the time nor the leisure to admire the marvels of the land like this.

“Do you know where the men of this village are, Miss Kira?”

Peeling your eyes away from the shrine, you shot Thoma a pointed look.

“Back to fake-name basis now, are we?” you observed, inching your sandals closer together. “Well, able-bodied men are usually drafted as the Raiden Shogun’s soldiers. I’m assuming it’s the same here?”

He nodded. “Those two were soldiers who were permitted a weekend off in their hometown. Konda Takuya was the village chief’s son. Takeru’s father. He was good friends with Sango Akihito, so it would make sense for their children to get along well.”

…Then that meant Akihito was Futaba’s father.

Thoma set his now empty bowl aside, stretching his long legs until his feet touched the ground. “Last year, we were contacted by the village chief about a double murder case. No one saw the culprit; it happened right under everyone’s noses, he said.” When his green-eyed gaze met yours, you nearly shivered.

“Takeru and Futaba were the ones who found them by the riverbank. Their bodies turning the water red with rot.” The blond breathed out a laugh that held no amusement. “The Tenryou Commission was the one who handled the case, and Milady and I were just there as the village chief’s friends. But still, it made me wonder…”

He braced his palm on the wooden platform, and you caught the scent of aralia trees and musk before you noticed Thoma leaning forward. Your eyes widened at the sudden close proximity—becoming all sorts of vulnerable under his gaze. You could even feel the warmth of his Pyro Vision grazing the side of your clothed leg.

Yet you hardly moved an inch.

“What was going through the killer’s head when he did this to the men who steadily provided income for Konda Village?” Thoma spoke quietly. “Did he think about what their deaths would leave behind? How much sorrow his actions could invoke into a community as small as this?”

With how close he was to you, each word that tumbled out of Thoma’s mouth made gooseflesh prickle the skin of your shoulders. But before you could snap at him to knock it off, the blond pulled away—making you heave a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“Probably not, right?” he sighed, lacing his fingers together on his lap.

“I’ve seen what grief does to a person. Sometimes the people left behind pick themselves up and move on. But at other times, the damage is irreparable.” A pause. “It’s a good thing the children are too young to fully comprehend their grief, and the elderly, too accustomed to be fully consumed by it.”

As if on cue, the wind picked up the next moment. You held the folds of your yukata in place as you watched the carp streamers sway in the breeze. To your side, Thoma got back to his feet, patting the dust off his clothes. The blond strands framing his face mimicked the movement of the windsocks on the chief’s front lawn.

You’re right, you wanted to tell him. I never once wondered what happens after the carnage I leave behind.

Another question hovered in your mind.

One you’ve been dying to ask since you’d overheard his conversation with Ayato.

So how could someone like you see himself in someone like me?

But…you never got the words out. All those questions swiftly burned out on your tongue until all you could taste were the ashes of uncertainty.

In the silence, Thoma turned to look at you once more.

“I hope you remember this, Miss Kira,” he resumed, voice still barely a touch above a whisper. “That actions have consequences, whether or not you’re the one who’ll be picking up the pieces in the end.”

His words sunk in like a sedative coursing through your veins—numbing out anything else aside from the desolate tone that accompanied the spiel.

You couldn't believe it. This man was lecturing you about right and wrong like you were a toddler who didn’t know otherwise. And he had the gall to comment about your roundabout methods to assassinate his charge when he orchestrated all this? Just to…what? Prove a point?

“Did you seriously think you can just convert me into a law-abiding citizen with an unsolicited speech?” you scoffed.

“Of course not,” he laughed. “I’m not as delusional as you take me to be, Miss Kira. I just hoped a little nudge would let you see things in a...different light.”

You were about to tell him you’re not the only one who’ll be seeing different lights as you balled your fists, but your nefarious intentions had been rudely interrupted.

“There you are!”

Down the main road, you could spot Ayaka and the rest of the villagers returning from the cemetery. The princess had two kids in tow, and in spite of yourself, you wondered if you’d offended Futaba by throwing that lavender melon soup into the ground.

“Miss Kira, are you alright? You seemed a bit ill earlier,” Ayaka asked once they’d arrived—fussing over you almost immediately. “Those injuries of yours… Do they still hurt? Archons, I knew I shouldn’t have invited you out so soon.”

…Invited you out? So making you come along had been Ayaka’s plan all along?

As the princess inspected your arms in earnest, you shot Thoma another incredulous look, which the chief retainer only returned with a shrug.

“I’m sorry, big sister…”

To your side, Futaba rubbed her eyes as Takeru sniffled behind her. “I thought my lavender melon soup made you sick. Maybe I should improve the recipe with Grandpa a little…”

You didn’t know what compelled you to refute her assumptions so quickly, but you did.

“Hey,” you managed dryly. “Um, that’s—that’s not it at all, buddy. I’m still recovering from a bunch of nasty injuries. In fact, I used to make the same stuff you gave us as a kid.”

That seemed to surprise her. “Really? You made lavender melon soup, too?”

“Yep. My…dad hammered the recipe into my head.” You chuckled, tapping a finger to your temple.

For the first time today, Takeru spoke out loud, despite the string of snot dribbling down his chin. “B-Big sister, can you teach us?”

Ayaka sighed as she procured a handkerchief from her pockets—dabbing it on the poor boy’s face. “I’m certain she would be willing to do that. Right, Miss Kira?”

With the flow of conversation suddenly having been directed your way, you were hyper aware of the fact that the rest of the adults had gone back to their respective homes. Only the village chief was left lingering on the property. He seemed to be busy sorting out his lavender melon supply on the foyer.

You gulped, turning to Takeru as he gazed up at you with hopeful eyes. It’s been so long since anyone has looked at you not with fear for their lives, but with a childlike expectation. Futaba wore the same expression as well, and all that you could think of at that moment was—

Stop, you thought—an indescribable feeling settling over your chest. Don’t look at me like that. I’m the one who killed your fathers. I’m the one who made your lives miserable.

If you thought about it hard enough, you could still remember. The thick, humid air that pervaded your senses as you dumped two lifeless bodies in the river uphill. The bottomless pit that dug itself in your heart all these years. You felt nothing as you left those hapless men for dead.

But right now, with their children looking at you like you were anything but a monster—

“Well, if we’re having a cooking session, we best start now, no?”

Thoma’s voice was quick to reel you from that downward spiral. You even jolted at the sound of it. All of a sudden, you didn’t have the blood of countless innocents caking your fingernails down to the beds anymore.

In your hands was a clay pot that the chief retainer had unceremoniously dropped onto your palms.

“Come on.” He snapped his fingers in front of you. “We don’t have all day.”

Ayaka nodded as she straightened herself out. “Miss Kira, I’m a bit interested in how you would cook lavender melon soup. You always seem to avoid kitchen duty whenever it comes around, so…”

“Gee, I wonder why,” you mumbled—giving Thoma the stink eye.

“Big sister, teach us. Teach us!” Takeru whined, tugging at the hem of your yukata.

You sighed, tucking the pot beneath your arm as you marched to the village chief’s well.

This didn’t change anything. You were still the culprit behind a traumatic experience for the very same kids following you around like ducklings. Doing this for them would only atone for a fraction of what you had done.

And Archons knew the blood price for your sins would have to be paid in full someday.

“So first, we need to boil a lot of water,” you instructed. “And I mean, a lot.”

(Later, as everyone sat around the well—sick to their stomachs from eating too much of the miracle soup you hadn’t made in years—you wondered.

When was the last time you ever repented for the crimes you’ve committed?)

The soft breeze grazed your cheeks as you quietly sipped on your saucer. Madarame hadn’t been kidding around when he said the deliveries from Inazuma City had a bite to them.

That, or you were just unused to holding your liquor nowadays.

It was well past midnight, and you were seated all alone in the pavilion. Of course, the ever-vigilant Kamisato guards still kept a close eye on every move you made, but were kind enough to leave you to your own devices. Besides, evening tea with Ayaka had been such a staple in these nights you spent in the estate that failure to have drinks under the moon felt like a crime.

Even if Ayaka was currently accompanying her brother to a series of week-long meetings at the Tenshukaku. Even if what you were drinking was actually savory sweet rice wine.

“That’s some good stuff you got there.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And I’m not sharing,” you announced, holding the ceramic jar to your chest as Thoma sat a few feet away. “Everyone else declined when Madarame put one of the Commissioner’s stocks up for grabs.”

He stared at you, amused. “So that means I’m not allowed to have a say in it? Because I just got back now?”

“Sometimes, I’m glad you’re as bright as you are.” You grinned sheepishly, abandoning the saucer as you took a swig straight from the jar. “How’s the princess?”

“As unintentionally charming as she always is,” he supplied. “So, what’s keeping you up at this hour? Could’ve sworn you’d be plotting your escape in bed by now.”

“Shhh.”

You leaned across the platform, stretching out your hand until your index finger was pressed against the plush give of Thoma’s lips—hiccuping in the process.

“No one’s s’posed to know that,” you half-groaned, half-slurred. “What if somebody overhears, huh? They’ll get the wrong idea and think I’m a fugitive.”

“But you are a fugitive,” Thoma reminded, grabbing your wrist with an unexpected gentleness as he pulled your finger away. “You’re Kira of the resistance. Loyal servant to Her Excellency, Sangonomiya, and temporary retainer to the Kamisato House.”

You didn’t pay attention to his attempt at being a smartass. Instead, your eyes roved to where his gloved fingers enclosed themselves around your wrist.

Thoma’s hands were much larger than yours. Fingertips more calloused, which was saying something because the years hadn’t exactly been kind to your fair maiden palms either. And above all, his skin was warm. The kind of warm you’d only ever felt a long time ago.

Snuggling under the blankets as Mother read you stories to bed. Eating dinner by the fireplace as Doctor Naoko praised your progress in learning human anatomy.

You shook off his grip.

“I’m getting a little sleepy, Master Thoma,” you sighed dramatically as you tried to stand up. “Could you take this back to the kitchen and store it somewhere? I don’t think I can…”

There’s a distant sound of something shattering against a hard surface that reached your ears. But you barely heard it over the sound of your own heartbeat. You looked up in red-faced trepidation when Thoma caught you by the waist before you could fall off the platform—breath hitching in your throat as you drank in the sight of him.

During all those little tea parties with Ayaka come evening, Thoma never once tried to step in. Something about preserving the integrity of a ladies’ chit-chat, or whatever. But from the way he’d comment on the lies you’d fed the princess the night prior, you were almost certain he’d be at least eavesdropping from a safe distance.

It’s a shame he wouldn’t join you two, really.

He looked gorgeous under the moonlight.

“Miss Kira…”

The last thing you remembered before falling into slumber were the endless emerald of his eyes—and how you didn’t quite mind getting lost in their labyrinth.

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#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin fanfiction #genshin x reader #thoma fanfic #thoma smut #thoma x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #cryoculus #genshin thoma #guard dog

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thisisjustmefangirling · 11 months ago

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Merlin rewatch 2x08 : "The sins of the father"

Part 1 :

Alright ! While Ao3 is down for maintenance, I'm going to watch "Merlin".

I like that we're going to see why the Purge happened, right after an episode like "The witchfinder", in which we saw how terrible witch hunting had been for decades.

It took me several times going back to this scene to notice that this is Sir Caradoc being knighted ? Karadoc ? Coucouuuu.

Wow, Uther praising his son ! "You'll find know one who embodies this values better than my son". (Nobility, honor, respect).

All the new knights circle in front of the king to protect him but Arthur steps forward. No one protects him but Merlin, and he doesn't even know it.

Morgana's interest in Morgause... She probably senses she's familiar.

Arthur is holding himself to the same standards as his fellow knights and I love him for it. No hypocrisy here.

He also states twice he refuses to be taken for a coward.

I love that Merlin points out the obvious : Arthur is gallant, he could hesitate to kill her because she's a woman, and she could use that to her advantage.

Ah, Morgause and her eyeliner...

"Who's to say Arthur's life won't rest in my hands ?" Merlin is like "oh fuuuuck".

Merlin comforting Arthur before the duel, stating he gave Morgause a chance to withdraw and whatever happens will be her doing <3

Lemme say I love that we saw him tinkering with Arthur's armor to fix it and later that we saw him finishing to put it on Arthur. In fanfic, it's such an important plot point. Even when Merlin can be rid of his other tasks, he'll never let anyone else take care of Arthur's armor, in case they mess with it. This armor is Arthur's life, and Merlin should have reinforced it with magic ages ago already.

Morgause's win is quite the accomplishment, as Arthur is apparently one of the best fighters in all of Albion...

That tear in Arthur's eye when he realises she could kill him...

"I have never been so humiliated in my life... I was defeated... by a girl." Arthur you really need to be less sexist.

Morgana you are gorgeous in that silver dress.

Morgause is not looking very straight in that shirt...

"You've shown yourself to be a man of honor."

And she hits where it hurts. Ygraine is Arthur's Achille heel...

Uther is showing himself to be the antithesis to Arthur. He was the one who knighted those new knights at the beginning to the episode, asking them to keep their word and behave with honor, but now he's asking his son to break his word and not go to Morgause. He knows more than he lets on and he's a liar.

Merlin enjoying Arthur's humiliation is pretty funny.

We need to stop with the fatphobic jokes. I never thought they were funny before and I still don't think they're funny now.

"THERE IS NO MORE ROPE" lol Arthur in horse dung !

"I swear this horse is even dumber than you Merlin" how about you stop calling your only friend stupid, dumb, etc ?

Gaius espèce de grosse balance.

I KNEW there would be an arrow flying right in front of them !

The spear is catching fire ? MERLIN ! How obvious is that !? And how oblivious is poor Arthur ?

Aww Arthur is opening up to Merlin and telling him Morgause knew his mother !

Help Morgana is too beautiful here and I'm too gay for this.

Those scenes by the fire in the middle of the forest are always some of the best for Merthur. They're far away from court, Uther, etc. It's just them, their personalities, and they open up and confide in each other. I think it's the first time Arthur talks about his mother and the first time Merlin mentions his father.

Part 2 coming soon.

#bbc merlin #merlin rewatch

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enzelffxiv · 3 months ago

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"Ketenbraena...Thy presence here would indicate the Exarch hath come a step closer to his goal, but…"

"But? Who's the 'Exarch'?"

Urianger's expression grew somber. " 'Tis a tale that will take some time to relate. I would suggest taking thine ease for a moment."

More than happy to oblige, Keten dropped their weight onto the closest chair with a bit more force than necessary. It creaked.

"Either way, I'm starving," they said, and unceremoniously stuffed a pastry into their mouth. Urianger said nothing, simply watched with his eyebrows raised. "This is where you've all been this whole time?" Keten asked after a moment. Urianger inclined his head slightly.

"Indeed. I shall reveal all the details forthwith, however…" he seemed a bit concerned. "If thou wouldst first enlighten me as to how thou farest, separated from Imry by the Rift--"

Keten waved a gauntlet at him. "I'm not. She's here somewhere. I just can't pinpoint--wait, the Rift?"

"Imry is here?" he said at the same time. They both fell silent for a moment.

"She must be. I thought it was a dream, at first, but I could see through her eyes for a moment. She's with Akiv'a, and the twins…there's someone else, but I didn't recognize them."

"It must be the Exarch." This was spoken with obvious relief. "So, they have finally arrived…"

Keten frowned. The food had energized them, more than food usually did, and they took a moment to look around the room again.

"The two of them went to investigate...something about that voice telling them to go to the Crystal Tower. I was in the Rising Stones keeping watch. And then…" They shrugged. "I was here."

"I see. The physical separation was maintained in the journey. It must be the connection between thy soul and hers...how fortuitous."

"Fortuitous? It hurt like hell," Keten grumbled.

"Ah, apologies. 'Twas not mine intent to trivialize such an ordeal. But that explains much."

"About what?"

He tapped a finger to his temple, as if to arrange his thoughts.

" 'Tis merely a theory, of course. Unlike her dearest companion, Imry is not versed in the arts of summoning, and as we verified, thou art no creature of the Void…"

Keten scowled a little at that.

"With the other typical methods of creation of an autonomous being unlikely, the conclusion must be that thou wert given life by the same source as she. The soul...to tear it apart would be a calamitous event most beings would not survive. But if the soul remained as one, in two bodies…"

Keten shifted uncomfortably. "But we are separate. Otherwise why would it hurt so--" they stopped, realizing it was a confession they'd uttered to only a few, and certainly not to him. Urianger looked at them sympathetically. It made them want to crawl under the table.

"Perhaps the separation is not complete. It would explain why you are both able to remain hale and whole, with such polarized aether."

Keten straightened in their chair, with a growing unease. "And what would happen otherwise?"

"Hast thou encountered the beings known as 'sin eaters'? An overabundance of Umbral aether causes the body and its functions to stagnate. As Astral aether causes uncontrollable growth, and hunger…so it is with creatures of the Void."

"Wait...what?"

Urianger took a breath, looking like he was bracing to repeat himself, but Keten leaned forward and continued.

"You're saying Imry's going to turn into one of those things??"

Urianger seemed pleased that they had been able to follow his explanation. "If that were so, it would have become evident long ago. The balance of aether in thy soul appears to remain intact. As long as it remains so...But that would explain why the Primordial Light in this world has not yet stripped away thy form."

"Oh, it's definitely trying." Keten folded their arms. "I was lucky I landed where I did."

"And I am grateful the Nu Mou extended their generous hospitality. If the pixies had found thee first--"

Urianger stopped abruptly, looking at the greatly diminished pile of pastries, then back at Keten, a strange expression on his face. They waited for him to continue at first, but soon grew uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"What? I told you I was hungry because--"

Urianger coughed.

"Lor Kenn," he said, raising his voice. "And An Uin, Eo Hagan as well--show yourselves."

With a noise like ice falling from a tree branch into fresh powdered snow, something popped into existence in the air over the table. Three somethings. One of them zipped over Urianger's shoulder in a violet blur, emerging on the other side of his head to bob up and down by his ear.

"Why isn't it working!?" a tiny, bell-like voice demanded. "I don't like this smelly metal friend of yours! They're cheating!"

So that's a pixie. Keten leaned back a bit as one of the creatures darted close to their face, wings an iridescent blur.

"Ooh, I think they might be turning a little bit green at the edges?"

"Don't get my hopes up!" The third pixie stayed put over the table, but flung out their tiny arms and did a frustrated somersault in midair. "They've been that color the whole time!"

"I thought to warn thee," Urianger cut in, in a tone that sounded like he was restraining laughter, "but thou appeared to consume the first delicacy with no ill affects. Perhaps if thou art indeed starved for aether, the spell itself was also consumed before it could take effect?"

"Whaaaaat!?" the violet-colored pixie exclaimed, before Keten could respond. "That shouldn't be possible! My magics are impeccable! Robust! And you just…ate them??"

"It tasted delicious," Keten said with little affect. Surprisingly, this seemed to mollify the little being.

"I should hope so! After all, my enchantments are woven with the utmost care, and foresight…" The pixie fluttered over to hover by their companion, both staring curiously into Keten's face. They had large, unsettling eyes considering their diminutive stature.

The second pixie, whose body and limbs were a vibrant green, clasped their hands together. "If you're a friend of Urianger's, you'll play with us, won't you? He's very, very good at--ooh, what did you say your name was again?"

"Eo Hagan," Urianger said sternly. The pixie whirled around and stuck their tongue out at him.

"You're no fun!!! We hardly ever get visitors! Hardly ever! Don't you want your friend to stay here with you? Forever?" Eo Hagan finished the question in a sing-song tone, which was as cheerful as it was unsettling.

"More shall be arriving forthwith," he said, declining to answer the question.

"What? How do you know, how do you know?"

"Here I had presumed you three were eavesdropping."

The third pixie was now spinning in place, and tipped their head back to look at him. "Oh, we were, but it was all sorts of nonsense. A soul couldn't survive being split in two!"

#ketenbraena #I should...finish this fic

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themissingnumbers · 5 months ago

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What's good, y'all! It's me again, so you know what that means :) You all know how I function by now. I write things down in the order they appear in my brain, so things may be a bit scattered, but if you can look past that, then I hope you enjoy my ramblings.

In today's issue of The New Yap Times: THOSE FUCKIN' CHARACTER REFS HOLY SHIT—

So, those character references, amirite? First off, those things are fricking fabulous. Good stuff, Starry. Secondly, y'all know how this goes by now. I've got a lot of things I wanna say and I don't know how to say it, but hopefully, this will get easier the further I go. So! Let's start going down the line--shall we?

"Fire" Red Yuuji: MY BABY-! Okay, okay, lemme stop lmao. But like, look at him. He looks so good! Y'all have no idea how much I celebrated when I saw that my boy Fire got a pair of snow pants and some boots like LET'S GO-! He's not on a mountain in jeans and sneakers anymore; he's got some (keyword: some) appropriate snow gear! Plus, that jacket is still clean as hell. Not gonna lie though, I was kinda like Ehhhhh (unsure) about the new frostbite for him, but after looking at it for awhile I'm more like Ehhhhh (positive). I like it! He looks like he toes the line between being cold/unapproachable and lookin' like a sad baby seal. 9.5/10. (I only have one major complaint about Fire as a whole, and it's a big one: I don't know how you've done it, but you've somehow made him look even more huggable and yet I still cannot hug him. It's a sin >:( Don't worry though, he's really a 10/10, I'm just sad and petty-)

Leaf Aoyama: The Babygirl! Yes ma'am! (I'm so happy that she and Fire tied for once-) She's so beautiful, and I love her hair and eyes! I liked the subtlety of the old markings, but I mess with the new ones heavily. She looks like she's got some gnarly burns on her hands, which is kinda worrying. Plus, I really like the little additions to her outfit. I like her little socks (I think they're socks??) and the necklace/heart locket, too! Where'd she get it? Who's in there? I wanna know! Hopefully, she will share it with us one day. 10/10. (Bonus for Leaf: I know I already mentioned it in the comments of the actual Leaf post, but THE ESPEON!? HELLO?! Imma need the lore for that-)

Blue Gary Oak: PRETTY BOY ALERT HOLY MOLY- Okay, genuinely, Starry, why did you make him so pretty? Jesus- Anyway, moving on- This man is fabulous, and I need him to help me with my wardrobe. He's got STYLE! And his eyes, man, his eyes are GORGEOUS! The jewelry, the aviator jacket, the button-up—he got that shit on tho! Onto his body though, I really like all of his freckles. And I had always wondered why he had bandages on his wrist for his researcher outfit, and I kinda put two and two together to speculate why, but I didn't want to be right. But I have confirmation that I was right with the updated reference, and now I'm just sad :( But in spite of that, his design is still clean with lots of effort put into it. Another 10/10. (Also, Blue named some of his Pokémon and I think that's sweet. Otto and Akira are adorable names and I would like to meet them and spoil them with treats thank you-) (It also makes me really sad that Blue self-harms. Like, I expected it, but still. He hurt himself, and from the looks of things, still does. He doesn't deserve that. Hopefully, we can help Blue wean off of SH later down the line by offering some alternatives and a listening ear.)

"Glitchy" Red Tajiri: Then there's this rat bastard (affectionate). Where... where do I even start with this dude? Don't take anything I say about this man the wrong way, his design is peak and the art is amazing, but he looks so... wrong. Like, ewww, bro. I know he hasn't eaten in god knows how long, but why doesn't he look alive? Why tf is he printer paper white? He just ain't right man. (Slenderman lookin' ass. Bro looks like he bites. Probably microwaves his cereal before he eats it, too. Don't tell him I said that-) Nevertheless, creepy shit aside, I really like how disheveled he looks! Torn, dirty clothes, shoes with holes in them, and long messy hair—it fits him and I mess with that heavy. Also, the viscera that comes with that super glitchy form is crazy! It looks so cool, but it can't feel good in any manner. He's so skinny, too! I am deeply concerned for this man, probably more than I initially was for Fire, and that's saying something. Again, another 10/10. This man has grown on me significantly. (Also, his poor Pokémon team :( What happened to them? I'm curious but also afraid to find out. I also like how his Team has Gen 1 sprites. Nice touch-) (Also, me looking at that digital viscera form with MissingNo limbs ripping out of his chest. "Mhm..." Adds it to the Parasite theory. "Mhm.")

Okay! It's been a while since I started writing this (it's currently 2 AM for me lmao I started at 11) and I think I'm done—with this version! You thought I was finished? NO. I have more thoughts about these references—lots of thoughts—mostly about the Spoiler Edits and Blacked out parts, along with the new Biographies/Descriptions. But that's for a different time and post. This was just me rambling about the updated designs because I have no one else to yap to about it at the moment. So, there will be another, more theory-driven edition of The New Yap Times coming eventually, but not tonight.

Anyway, time for my closing statements. To Starry, you cooked with these drawings bruh. These are awesome and your art just keeps getting better and better. Keep it up! But be careful not to burn yourself out. To the Mods, I know y'all're probably cooking something up in secret. You guys always be moving in the shadows, so just know that I look forward to it ya sneaky little devils, and I hope y'all are all doing well. And specifically to Mod Hells, I hope you feel better soon homie. Being sick sucks, so I'm prayin' for you :) Take care of yourself.

But that's all, folks! Until next time. Thank you for reading The New Yap Times!

[OHHEHEHEHE do NOT ever apologize for your long analysis asks idc how messy you consider it these are a huge highlight of this blog for me and it makes all the work i put into the refs worth it!!

i need to respond to this stuff without giving too much away now.. trust me when I say that for these design updates, a LOT of thought went into the changes, both aesthetically AND for what they mean regarding the stories. but though i know all the meaning and intent being them, i wanna leave it all open to interpretation and theorizing as best as i can...

that said i want to talk a LITTLE about it bc dear god this is such a good analysis and observations LOL

re: Fire - his new snow fit was smth that took a lot of mulling over and was decided on based on the fact that he'd get it in universe from... somewhere. :) the updates to his frostbite were also VERY deliberate- for one i was worried the old stylizing would be read as blush when seeing him out of context... i wanted it to be clear that this is a severe injury. i def did my best to make him toe the line of..... Unapproachable, and Aesthetically Pleasing. im very glad i pulled that off!!

re: Leaf - ill admit to keep it real a large drive behind changing her markings into burn scars was bc i didn't like drawing the chain markings on her arms LOL. but the change is also a deliberate choice that i won't elaborate much more on.. its definitely less subtle, but i think weird scars can be easily justified in the world of pokemon. as for her pokemon... all can be explained in due time! though id certainly suggest putting that scanner and dex to use ;)

re: Blue - blue's always been focused more on Fashion over Function- if there's one thing he cares about, it's appearances. him being more of a prettyboy is intentional by virtue of the fact that he tries to look attractive and such. the.... other thing is smth ive mostly kept as subtext, particularly happening in... recent works. :) but its not something i intend to treat lightly once it's explicitly acknowledged. i honestly considered hiding it like with other things on these refs but that just seemed like overkill ultimately.

as for nicknames- god i really want to give other pokemon nicknames that reflect their trainer's personalities. the problem is that immm just bad at naming things tbh. Leaf would have a fully named team, and Blue would too, or at least a few more than just Otto and Akira. i was thinking Dusty for his Jolteon... ill probably head back and edit names in as we work em out! the refs will definitely be good to glance at from time to time. fires team is nameless and reds team would be .......... immature.

re: Glitchy -

this is the best possible thing you could've said about him. thats all i can really say

anyways!! thank you so so much for all your thoughts- again, things like this really do make it all worth it! i really look forward to your next theory session, but you take care and take all the time you need, okay?

thank u so much for the compliments man,, 🥺 it really does mean a lot. i can really tell ive improved a lot esp looking at the new and old refs side by side and it makes me so happy!! ^-^ im glad u can see it too eheheh.. ill put my side by sides under the cut bc its kinda wild to look at

and as someone whos been seeing all the behind the scenes work unfold.... god im so excited for when the secret the other mods have been working on gets to come out !!! they've been trucking away and its exciting to see :D]

((ps from mod hell: thank you so much our strongest soldier i love you))

old vs new comparisons:

#mn qna #mn theories #[im not trigger tagging all the refs again im sorry they're under a cut. yallve probably seen what to warn for anyways by now]#long post

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