#also axes are fucking sick
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wait before I go to bed I have a question…
if you had a signature weapon, ANY weapon, what would it be?
mine would either be an axe or a morningstar for SURE (and i’m not just saying that bc I have both of those tattooed smh)
#aster speaks#idk why but this is like#smth i have to know#it’s interesting to me#like hey#what flavour violence do u like?#if u can’t tell i like swinging the heavy things#big impact boom#also axes are fucking sick#i dream of being final girl in a thriller movie and chasing down the killer w an axe#turning that game around mama!
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hey. hey how do i cope when the trope is two characters who were clearly meant to be together and look deeply into each others eyes every chance they get and know each other in ways no one else can and are very obviously shipped together by the writers and are literally WRITTEN FOR EACHOTHER and desperately in love but they cant be because censorship is a cockblocker please send help soon I'm loosing it
#lol guys what if this was about geto and gojo like just what if#luca and alberto too cause me and my friends are going to the theatres to cry about what was meant to be#this has nothing to do with nana and hachi but they are forever on my mind#raiden ei and eimiko like its actually sick good bye#every lesbian ever to breathe#korra and asami cause they were supposed to get an onscreen kiss and then bam a fucking hand hold like that shit still hyped me but omg#GUYS WAIT RARIJACK IN EQUSTRIAGIRLS#loki and mobius WHO SAID THAT#geto suguru#gojo satoru#loki season 2#loki#loki series#mobius#lokius#also Ax and Marco from animorphs cause i'm currently reading the book and it's very obvious if this wasnt written in the 90's it would be#even gayer#again curse you tumblr tag word count i'm tryna wax poetry here
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lil fic updates
Gonna take this weekend off instead of uploading to DoM since I posted two chaps last time, but I'm trying to stick to a weekly schedule as best I can. I'm thinking it's looking like just at or around 10 chapters for now. I'm not entirely sure though.
In the meantime, I have another trans kks one shot I might work on if I'm feeling up to it. It's been cooking a while, especially while I am caught in my own Gender Probs so it'll be nice to explore a bit. I also have a few trans kks head canons that need a place to live.
HOWEVER, I think I'd like to consider a beta reader for it if I do decide to post/write. Of course, there will be smut, but there's a few ideas I have that are more allegorical/speculative I want to portray about gender identity as well, but I don't want to be insensitive or disrespectful, since I am new to discovering my own identity and I have not/do not live the life of a trans FTM person. I want to be careful with writing from this perspective without having first-hand experience. Anyway, I could be overthinking but the last thing I'd want is to offensively misrepresent anything or anyone. All this to say...if I am that concerned I probably shouldn't write it (or share it anyway) but...we'll let it cook a little more.
On an unrelated note I realized today that two of my three KKG Valentine's submissions were exclusively blowjob content lmao axel your oral fixation is showing
#gender got me fucked up yall#also maybe sick?#could just be so so tired from wedding stuff yesterday#anyway#progress report#ax says stuff
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my dad is now willing to help me amass a collection of sharp weaponry which is awesome, but it's time to direct him to feders so that i can actually use something in sport. otherwise i should just go straight to buhurt and that's tbi territory
#not that i'm opposed to doing buhurt in the future#quite the opposite#i gotta lose a few braincells doing bloßfechten first though#he got me a sick ass axe for christmas ans asked if i took it to longsword practice#i was like ??? no?? it's for longswords?#also that thing could Fucking kill someone and i quite like my classmates
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Granblue fantasy player (terminal)
#went primal in dark my grid has been in the making but i sparked twice so it is finall viable when compared to my dark magna#sparked once for lich bc her + fediel is broken but then i got lucky and got 200 free pulls so i sparked a second fediel spear#im at 116/150 gm and im beating myself over the head not to use it on a gold moon weapon#being a gbf tryhard who cares abt meta is a full time job#my magna day way more ougi dmg but my primal does crazy skill dmg#i need second lich axe so bad tho like its making me sick how bad i need it#im aleo out of dama AND gold bars major cope im also out of sunstones#i got yatima but cant sunstone her 🤣🤣🤣 ALSONA FUCKING BEELZEBUB DUPE LEAHE ME ALONE they hate players bc u can only use one beelzebub
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about to wage war w my landlord bc he’s refusing (after waiting until i paid rent) to remove a nonworking swamp cooler from my window so i can actually get air flow this summer. this hoe fr is so condescending and is also trying to blame my CAT for the chain part INSIDE the ceiling fan breaking like.... get a fucking grip and grow up, you cheap piece of shit slum lord
#my rent is 1050 a month#with 50 for utilities#my cold water runs orange from rusted pipes sometimes#the swamp cooler is rusted doesnt work and prob has squirrels living in it#the window its attached to also doesnt open#every single floor in my apartment is slanted so all my cooking or baking#slides to one side of the pans/pots#im like... theres wires hanging loose all around the apartment#theres no lighting going up the stairs in the back of the building OR under the stairs in the back#like..... the washing machine stains our clothes#and when it leaked last winter the basement smelled AWFUL and was so hot and gross#and then the owner of my mgmt team basically told me i was dramatic#like sir mold could have grown and ppl could have used the machine/dryer and electrocuted themselves or smth#like i honestly will kill you bitch! dont fucking test me!#i feel so trapped here by the management company#like its never bad until i need maintenance done bc they dont want to pay people to come out and fix stuff#like so dont own a business! OR become a jack of all trades and do it urself#genuinely would be so happy taking a bat or axe to this fucker#gruesome! but its how i feel im sooooo sick of his shit#personal
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"i wanna Be Cool, but only if you want me to."
"want to impress you"
synopsis// everyone knows that basketball is the way to someone's heart.
pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader
word count// 3.8k
contents// college au, basketball au, mutual unknown pining?, friends to lovers?, gojo is a loser, obligatory this is for you and misses
notes// lu wanted a basketball au so lu gets a basketball au. also obviously inspired by the basketball scene in jjk s2 anywho this is just kinda short n goofy :p also inspired by the song i wanna be cool by super whatevr. also i have no idea how basketball works and only ever played for fun so ermmm if anything is wrong bring that up with the universe !
Shoko unwillingly finds herself sitting on a random bench in the boys locker room, her arms crossed as she glares at the two boys in front of her.
“Why did you guys drag me in here?”
Geto speaks up first: “In my defense, this is all on Satoru, and I have no part in this.”
“You still dragged me in here, did you not?”
“…Yes.”
“Then you took part in it.”
Gojo smiles as he smacks Geto on the back. “Exactly! You’re my accomplice.”
Shoko rolls her eyes. “Again, why did you guys drag me in here?”
“A presentation!”
“A presentation I have nothing to do with,” Geto chimes in as he takes a seat beside Shoko.
She briefly raises her eyebrow at Geto before directing it toward Gojo. “A presentation?”
“Yes!”
“I don’t see a projector or anything worth presenting here,” she says, looking around the room unamused.
“A presentation minus the actual presenting part...”
“So you dragged me in here just to talk to me?”
Geto leans in and whispers, “He actually wants to ask you something.”
Gojo stomps his foot like he’s about to throw a tantrum. “Geto shut up!”
“Can you just hurry up, Gojo?" She asks impatiently. “It reeks of axe body spray in here; I think it might actually kill me.”
He ignores her dramatics because, honestly, she’s not wrong. “You're coming to our game tonight, right?”
“I mean, yeah? Who isn't? It's the biggest game of the season.”
Geto adds, “That's what I said!”
“Do you know if Y/N is going?”
“Is that what you seriously dragged me in here for? Why didn't you just ask Y/N themself? You guys are friends, are you not?”
“Well yeah!” Gojo mumbles sheepishly, “But when I asked, they said maybe...”
“That means no,” Geto says quickly through a cough, as if trying to cover it up.
Gojo hears anyway and outstretches his arms toward Geto as if trying to draw attention toward him. “Exactly!” He then brings his hands in front of his face in a praying motion and begs, “Shoko, please!”
“Oh my fucking god, I don't know why you don't just ask them out already.”
“That's what I'm trying to do! But in order to do that, I kinda need them to go to tonight's game.”
Shoko glares at Gojo for what feels like forever, and Gojo glares back like they’ve suddenly entered a staring contest, and it’s Shoko who breaks eye contact first.
She sighs and pushes the hair out of her face as she mumbles, “God, you're lucky I'm tired of both of you pining after each other.”
“Thank you, Shoko!” he beams. “Also here.”
Shoko takes whatever Gojo is handing her and holds it up, her eyes slightly wide as she inspects it. “…Is this your jersey?”
He nods, fully confident within himself now that Shoko has agreed to drag you to the game, but tilts his head at her because he has no idea why she’s confused. “Yeah, I want them to wear it?”
“You make me sick to my stomach, fine.”
“Shoko, do you wanna wear my jersey?” Geto suddenly asks.
She stares at him blankly, as if to ask if he really asked her that, knowing damn well she does not like him like that and she has a girlfriend, though after a few moments he finally gets the hint.
“Oh my god, not like that; I just want someone supporting me too.”
She sighs in relief, “Oh, thank god, don’t scare me like that, but yeah, fine, I’ll wear it.”
“Wait, what the hell?” Gojo exclaims, drawing Shoko’s and Geto’s attention back to him. “Shoko, would you have worn mine if I asked?”
“No.”
“What?! Why the hell not?”
“I like Geto more than I like you.”
He glares at her and quickly points out, “You're lying; if that was true, you wouldn't be helping me!”
Shoko simply shrugs and mumbles a small “bye” before getting up and leaving.
Geto stands up and takes his place next to Gojo, softly patting his back as he whispers, “Dare I say this ends our lifelong debate on who's superior?”
Gojo shrugs his hand off of him and speaks harshly through clenched teeth, “Shut. Your. Mouth.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
“Why would I want to go watch a bunch of sweaty men fight over balls?” You mumble offhandedly, focusing your attention on netflix playing on your phone rather than on her.
“Ok, Y/N, first of all, there's only one ball, and second of all, did you forget Gojo is on the basketball team?”
You quickly turn off your phone and sit up, clasping your hands together in your lap. “….Have I ever mentioned that basketball is actually my favorite sport?”
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters under her breath, pinching her nose bridge. “You're so obvious; why haven't you told him yet?”
“Are you insane? Gojo is hot, and on the basketball team, do you know how many people he already has crushing on him? I'm literally just another name on that list.”
“Sure,” she nods, “But the difference is that you're his friend too; you have more of a chance than anyone else.”
You sigh and frown at her. “Doubt.”
Shoko shakes her head, knowing that you two could spend all day here in your dorm debating whether you have a chance or not, but that’s not what she’s here for, so she’ll let you believe what you want, knowing that (hopefully) Gojo pulling whatever it is he wants to pull will prove you wrong.
“Whatever, put this on,” she says, throwing the jersey at you.
You catch it, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at it curiously. “…Isn't this?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, is it?”
“Shoko.”
“Can you just trust me?”
“I'm literally just gonna look like another one of his groupies," you say, disdain and disappointment lacing your words as your eyes dart back and forth between her and the jersey.
She smiles, and it’s off-putting because it’s not her normal smile; no, you know, this is the smile she only wears when she’s about to drop a bomb on you. “Difference is that that's his actual jersey.”
You freeze.
“What?”
“I’ll save you a seat. Bye,” she says as she walks out of your dorm.
The slam of your door restarts your heart, and suddenly it and your mind are racing at 100 miles per hour, and the only thing you can do is word vomit despite the fact that Shoko is gone.
“What do you mean by that?! What do you mean this is his actual jersey?!” You run and fling open your door to yell out into the hallway, “Get back here!?”
Shoko is a good bit away at this point, but she still hears you call out for her and acknowledges that with a wave, yet she still keeps walking away, and you're stuck in your doorway with your chest heaving. You look back down at the jersey in your hands.
Holy shit.
Not only is this a jersey with Gojo’s number on it, but it’s his jersey. How did Shoko even get this? Did she just take it without him knowing? Too many thoughts are in your head, but there’s only one that keeps overlapping the others, there’s only one that’s consistent, only one that electrifies every neuron in your body:
Holy shit, this is Gojo’s jersey.
Fuck the questions and fuck the answers you know you won’t get; the only thing that matters to you right now is that you have and are about to wear Gojo’s jersey. You have to be dreaming; really, that’s the only logical answer, but holy fuck, if you’re dreaming, you do not plan on waking up anytime soon—or ever.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
The two teams quickly start filling up the court and taking up their respective spaces as they warm up, but Gojo, being Gojo, isn't doing that. Instead, he’s standing on the sidelines, looking in at the crowd of people starting to take their seats for the game, and his heart is racing as he searches the crowd for you, and it drops when he inevitably doesn’t find you, but he’s not discouraged, not yet at least, because the game hasn’t officially even started yet, so there’s still time for you to show up.
There’s still time.
He has to keep reminding himself that the whole time he’s warming up—now that he’s actually being forced to, though it’s a half-assed warm-up—he and his coach don’t even know whether what he’s doing could be considered a warm-up in the first place. The game is about to start any second now when Geto approaches Gojo.
“Nothing?”
Gojo’s head drops as he reluctantly shakes it.
Geto hums and searches the stands for you, but when he doesn't find you either, he tries to find the next best person, Shoko, and it's quite easy to find her considering she’s wearing Geto's jersey.
“Shoko!”
She looks down from the bleachers and sees Geto staring at her as he gestures toward Gojo, and she knows he's trying to ask where you are, but in all honesty, she has no idea either. She shrugs, and even from as high up as she is, she can hear Geto groan before grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.
“I'm sure they’ll come, dude.”
Gojo blankly stares at Geto, an eyebrow raised skeptically, as if to say, really? but before he can verbally reply, their coach comes over and removes Geto’s hand from Gojo’s shoulder to place his own hand there.
“I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, fix it.”
Geto and Gojo tense up at his tone, full of nothing but pure determination. This isn't him asking; this is him demanding that Gojo get his shit together.
“This is the biggest game yet, and I'm not gonna let you and some petty college drama get in the way of that. You're our best player. Act like it.”
Gojo can only nod. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's like his throat is closing, but he tries to will the feeling away. Though his reaction is enough for his coach, who starts walking off.
Geto stares up at Gojo with his eyebrows knit, concern lacing his voice, “Gojo...”
Gojo shakes his head and takes a deep breath before flashing Geto his signature smile. “I'm fine, Geto; cmon, we got a basketball game to win.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
To be totally honest, the reason you were running so late to the game was because you were mentally shitting your pants the entire time you were getting ready. For a good chunk of time, you just sat on your bed with the jersey laid out in front of you, staring at it. Just staring at it, that's all. Because yes, even though you said fuck the questions and fuck the answers, you very much could not do that, not when too many questions and unknown answers were flooding your brain like a dam had cracked. You think you probably would've stayed like that all day and night, missing the game entirely, if not for Shoko spam calling your phone.
“What?”
“Don't 'what' me, where the fuck are you?” She snaps through the phone.
“Uh, getting ready?”
“Y/N, the game started twenty minutes ago.”
“Oh shit,” you say, hopping off your bed and quickly grabbing the jersey.
“Yeah, oh shit! Get your ass down here!”
You don't bother saying goodbye; instead, you quickly hang up, throw the jersey on as fast as you can, and bolt out the door. The halls are empty as you race through them, and you're not surprised; everyone is already at the game—everyone but you—and you speed up your pace just a smidge more. God, you're an idiot, missing the best game of the season—okay, you don't actually care about that. God, you're an idiot, missing seeing Gojo and maybe getting answers on how Shoko obtained his jersey—that's better.
You get to the gym in record time, slightly surprised at how quickly you got there, but you ignore that as you try to catch your breath before walking in and try to prepare yourself for the amount of noise that will assault your ears when you do. You can already hear how loud it is; the walls not doing very much at all to muffle the yells of people. You walk in and wince slightly at the noise as you look around for Shoko. She immediately finds you and waves her hand in the air for you to find, as does Utahime, who's sitting next to her. You smile and quickly make your way toward them, apologizing to the people you pushed through to get to them in the first place. You take your seat next to Shoko with a sigh.
“What did I miss?” you ask, leaning forward slightly just so you can look at both Utahime and Shoko.
Utahime has a small grimace on her face, and Shoko merely motions toward the scoreboard, and the minute you look, your jaw drops. Gojo’s team was losing. No. Losing isn't even the right word here; they were getting absolutely destroyed. They had zero points—none at all. You look back toward the two girls in disbelief.
“What the fuck?”
“Gojo is literally sucking so much ass that it's throwing everyone else off,” Utahime says with a shrug before glancing down at your clothes. “Are you wearing his jersey?”
You clear your throat awkwardly and look away, ignoring the smirk on Shoko's face.
“So, uh, do we know why Gojo’s sucking ass?” You ask after a brief moment of silence.
“Nope,” Utahime responds with a shake of her head.
“I do,” Shoko says nonchalantly.
Your head snaps back toward her. “What? Why?”
“Yeah, you didn't tell me either!”
Shoko rolls her eyes and ignores both of you as she loudly calls out to Gojo, who, by some grace of god, hears her over the hundreds of other people yelling for him. Gojo’s eyes immediately find hers, and he watches how she subtly jerks her head to the side, and like some angel descended from the heavens, like a god showing itself in a moment of dire, he looks and finds you sitting there in his jersey, and he can't help the smile on his face, can't help how just your presence lit a fire underneath him, can't help how just seeing you gave him his pep back in his step.
Gojo finds Geto’s eyes on the court and nods determinedly. They are winning this game, whether it's the last thing Gojo does. He's not going to look like a fool in front of you. So that's exactly what Gojo does. Once the second period starts, Gojo steals back the ball with a new sudden ease, and by halftime, he’s gotten the team caught up to the other one, starting the third period with a tie.
“How the hell did he do that? I thought you guys said he sucked!”
“Aw man, I was rooting for the other team,” Utahime says, frowning, and you have to resist the urge to chew her out in defense of Gojo.
Shoko shrugs. “He was till you know…”
You stare at her blankly. “No, I don't know, actually. Care to enlighten me?”
“No, I do not,” she says before turning to Utahime. “And don't worry, they're only tied; there's still a chance the other team will win.”
Utahime cheerfully hums as she rests her head on Shoko’s shoulder. “You’re right!”
“Don't encourage her to root for the other team?!”
Utahime sticks her tongue out at you, and before any of you can say anything else, a loud buzzer rings across the gym, indicating a point was made, and to your delight, it was for Gojo’s team. For the rest of the third period, it was just buzzer after buzzer as Gojo’s team took back their rightful place on the scoreboard, completely smashing the other team into the ground, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Watching Gojo in his element was doing detrimental things to your crush on him, only making it worse, but you can't even seem to care. Shoko looks over to you and laughs.
“I can practically see the hearts in your eyes.”
You scoff. “Shut up!”
Down on the court, they had just started their last two-minute break between third and fourth period, with the coaches gathering their respective teams into a huddle.
“Alright guys,” Gojo’s coach began, “Keep your heads in the game; we’re taking this victory home, got it?”
All the boys nod hurriedly, and the coach leaves them to do what they need to before the last period starts, but Gojo doesn’t let them get far.
“Whatever fucking happens, I'm getting that last score, got it?”
Everyone on the team exchanges uneasy glances, and Geto rolls his eyes and sighs before apologizing for Gojo.
“He just has a plan and wants to do something, guys.”
The boys nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.
“If you guys mess this up for me, I swear to god, I will make you wish you were never born,” Gojo says with his usual smile, but in this case, all his smile does is make him seem feral.
Geto slaps Gojo across the back of his head and huffs, “He doesn’t mean that, don't worry.”
“Oh, I fucking mean it.”
“Gojo, shut the fuck up.”
Before anyone else can say anything, the timer goes off, and into the last minutes of the game they go. As the game goes on, everyone is on the edge of their seat, even if deep down they know who will win. You and Utahime are no exception to this, but apparently Shoko is.
“Why the fuck are you guys on the edge of your seats? It's obvious we’re gonna win.”
You go to glare at her but can’t even hold your stare long enough because you're so enthralled by the game. “Still, it's so nervewracking!”
Utahime laughs. “I'm only on the edge of my seat because I want the other team to win.”
“Why are you such a hater, dude?” you ask defensively.
Utahime doesn’t mind; she knows all too well about your little crush on Gojo, so she doesn’t take offense to your tone. “When it comes to Gojo, I'm always a hater.”
You finally find it in you to glare at her. “I hope Shoko breaks up with you.”
She rolls her eyes and glares back. “Oh, haha, you're so mature.”
You say nothing but stick your tongue out at her childishly, and she does the same, to which Shoko groans and rolls her eyes before grabbing both of your heads and turning them to face the game.
“You can fight after the game; there's only a few seconds left.”
Gojo glances at the time and realizes it’s now or never. He finds that Geto has the ball and calls out for him. Geto, on the other hand, hesitates to pass him the ball, with a look on his face asking if he really wants to do this, and Gojo can only nod. How could he not want to do this? This is the only thing he can do; it's not like he knows how to ask someone out the normal way, so this will do; it has to. Gojo tries to control his breathing as he makes his way to the hoop, the ball dribbling in tune with his heartbeat, and nothing matters to him in that moment except you and scoring—his surroundings completely drowning out. Everyone holds their breath waiting for him to shoot, and right before he does, his eyes lock onto yours.
“This is for you, Y/N!” He yells out as he shoots, and…
And he misses.
Horribly.
And there's no chance for him to redeem himself because the minute the ball hits the ground, the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game, and everyone seemingly ignores whatever the fuck he just did and erupts into an uproar at the fact that they won regardless of Gojo’s miss.
“What-“
Shoko slaps a hand over her mouth, attempting and failing to hold in her laughter. “Did he just fucking miss?”
Utahime is hunched over, her head between her knees, laughing. “Oh my fucking god, he's an idiot!”
You blink, not moving, not saying anything, but with how hard Shoko is laughing and Utahime leaning against her as she laughs as well, Shoko ends up bumping into you, and she instantly grows quiet, her head snapping toward you.
“Oh, why are you still here?”
“Huh?”
"Why aren’t you down there?” she asks, pointing down to the court.
“Am… Am I supposed to be?”
“Uh duh!” Utahime speaks up, peeking out from behind Shoko. “He made that shot for you! Well, he missed that shot for you.”
“Oh,” you say blankly. “Oh. Oh shit.”
You stood up abruptly, and with how fast you went down the bleachers, you almost tripped once you made it onto the ground. You quickly catch yourself, and the moment you look up to find Gojo, he’s already standing right in front of you.
“You're-you're wearing my jersey,” he says breathlessly, but not in a I-can’t-breathe way, more in a holy-shit-my-crush-is-actually-wearing-my-jersey way.
You swallow thickly and nod. Your gaze flickers down to the jersey before going back to his face. “I am.”
“You are.”
“What was that Gojo?”
He seems to grimace at your question. “Ah, well, you see, I was actually gonna say if I make this, you owe me a date, but that’s a really long sentence to shout, and what if I didn’t make it? That would’ve been so embarrassing.”
You laugh under your breath. “Gojo, you didn’t make it regardless.”
He frowns. “Don’t remind me.”
You smile and push a strand of hair stuck to his forehead out of the way, watching how he blushes furiously at your touch, and it makes your heart swoon. Who knew the confident number-one basketball player could crumble so readily under your touch?
“You know, I’m still more than happy to owe you a date.”
He smirks as he pulls you closer toward him by your waist and coos, “Yeah?"
“Yeah… But get the hell off of me, Gojo; you’re sweaty and you stink,” you grumble as you push against his chest, trying to free yourself.
Gojo ignores you and pulls you in closer (if even possible), his body engulfing yours as he rubs his face against yours, making sure his sweat rubs off on you too.
You struggle against his hold. “Gojo gross!”
“Sorry, I can't hear you over the people. What are you saying? Hug you closer?”
“Gojo, don’t you dare.”
You hear him chuckle before rubbing up against you again, and you groan but stop resisting, which he hums happily at before starting to pull away. You watch how his face abruptly twists into feigned disgust.
"Ew, Y/N, get the hell off of me; you’re sweaty and you stink,” he mocks as he pushes you out of his hold.
“I hate you.”
“If you hated me, you wouldn’t be going on a date with me,” he singsongily says.
“Yeah, not anymore,” you mumble with a wry smile as you start walking away.
“Hey, wait, Y/N, come back!”
©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#bimbo's one shots#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#bimbo’s one shots; jjk#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen one shot#jjk x gender neutral reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x gender neutral reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo oneshot#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru oneshot#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen gojo
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2 batteries away
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader
𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG
Also I miss Rick very much 🥺
*
"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.
you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.
"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.
"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."
"viagra? for who?"
you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.
"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.
you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.
"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.
"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.
"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.
"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"
"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"
rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.
"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."
one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.
"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."
"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."
"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"
"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."
"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.
rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.
"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."
he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.
you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.
"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.
you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."
"mmh."
he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.
"shoes." he says after some time.
"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.
"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."
you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.
"you?" he asks.
"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."
"shit, girl, oversharing much?"
"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.
"not female underwear. your underwear."
you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.
"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."
and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.
"oh, i also wish to find-"
"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."
ew.
ew.
ew.
he did not.
"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"
how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.
"well the age fits the description."
"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.
arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.
"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.
you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.
"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."
"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.
"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."
if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.
you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.
"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.
you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.
daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.
"dammit."
you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.
"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."
"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."
he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.
"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.
"wha'?"
you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.
"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"
your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.
"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"
"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."
you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.
"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.
"you gonna go get 'em?"
"why would i go? you go."
"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."
you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.
"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.
you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.
"it's a wand."
"wand?"
"yes."
"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.
"masturbating."
thud.
you look down, mortified. he better not break it.
"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"
"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."
you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.
feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.
"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.
he spares you a glare, and continues walking.
"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"
"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."
"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."
"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.
you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.
"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."
he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.
you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.
not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.
after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.
you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.
you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.
fuck it.
you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.
taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.
you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.
you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.
something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.
"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.
your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.
"the hell?"
your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.
"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.
"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"
"I-"
"is that my vest?"
he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.
"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.
"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."
"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.
your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.
"it's not like that-"
"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"
he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.
"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."
what?
"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."
silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.
tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.
"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.
"since rick chose to trust me."
you hum, understanding.
"listen-"
"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.
his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.
"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."
"i'm older than you. way older than you."
"so?"
"i could be your father."
"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."
"why do you get so triggered by it?"
you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.
"because."
"why?"
"doesn't matter."
"tell me," he presses further.
you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."
you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.
tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.
"wha- what are you-"
"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.
you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.
"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.
you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.
"don't be. or else i might regret this."
you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.
"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.
"just hush."
and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.
you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.
"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"
"nah."
before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.
it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.
"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.
he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.
"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."
for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.
"needed someone older to take care of ya."
you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.
daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.
"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.
"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"
you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.
"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."
"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.
"i'd split you in half, little one."
every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?
"then, what are we doing?"
he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.
"you share toys?"
"sometimes."
"good."
he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.
"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.
"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."
nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.
he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.
"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.
"give me a second."
you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.
"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.
he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.
you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.
"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.
"i wanted to. before, today, too."
"you sure?"
"yes."
you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.
"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."
"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."
he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.
"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."
you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.
"oh, you- you- you asshole!"
"right back at ya."
***
yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷
#twd#twd imagine#twd smut#twd daryl#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon smut#daryl x y/n#daryl dixion imagine#daryl x you#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x female reader#the walking dead daryl#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead smut
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Heya!!
So I'm a little obsessed with the secret relationship trope... i was wondering if you could do an Astarion x reader secret relationship but maybe during a fight, reader dies and has to be revivified? And Astarion freaks out, like he goes semiferal and histerical?
Maybe it could be during the fight with his siblings at camp so now Cazador knows he has someone he holds dear (even if Astarion doesn't want to admit it yet) which is what they were trying to avoid?
Thank you so much!!!!
🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ All I Want ❛ ✧
Featuring: Astarion x Reader
Not proofread!
# Notes: I'm not too good with drabbles but I rly like this idea so I decided to try! also no use of "y/n" because I'll be honest I'm not a fan of it lmao
It was his idea to keep the relationship a secret.
He knew how that sounded — like he was ashamed of his partner, like he didn't want anyone to know for the sake of his reputation. That wasn't true, and he assured them of it. It was simply a precaution, something to protect them both. Now that they arrived at Baldur's Gate and are closer to Cazador than ever, he couldn't take any chances. Not when it came to them, at least.
He wasn't used to this — caring about someone other than himself. It was always about his survival, but now he had someone else to worry about. Someone whose life was worth a lot more than his own. Someone he couldn't afford to lose.
So, he kept it a secret. It wasn't exactly easy to go about their day pretending to be nothing more than companions, friends at most. Ever since they got together, he realized just how starved he was for any kind of attention, any kind of affection. Having to refrain from touching them too much or being his usual, flirty self hasn't been a simple feat. But he knew how important it was that they kept things under wraps.
His feet were killing him after a long day of adventuring, from Wyrm's Crossing all the way to the Lower City. At least they managed to avoid some confrontation for today, so he had one less thing to complain about. They got settled in an inn and he managed to sneak out for a few seconds with his partner to at least get a good night's kiss. He wanted more, but knew that would have to suffice.
The others had already fallen asleep, but he remained tossing and turning. Something felt off. He wasn't sure what, but his nerves were on end, like his fight or flight response had picked up on something he himself hadn't yet. Perhaps that was for the best, as it allowed him to notice the sound of footsteps early enough to stand up and grab a dagger. His hand shook slightly, wrapped around the handle of the weapon as two familiar faces walked in. He felt sick. He knew what they were here to do.
"Get the hells away from me!" It wasn't quite a yell, but definitely loud enough to wake the others. He instinctively took a few steps back, trying to maintain a distance far enough to deceive his brain into believing that he was somewhat safe. "Peace, brother. We're here to take you home." Aurelia uttered somewhat gently, but it almost made him puke. Brother. Home. Just the notion of it made him dizzy with disgust. The Szarr Palace wasn't his home, and these goons were not his family — he was tired of playing along with this fucked up game of pretend.
It didn't take long for a fight to break out, despite his attempts at deception. He should've known Cazador wouldn't let him off easy. Karlach was the first to react, letting out a guttural scream of rage as she charged at Violet. The axe cut through flesh before the spawn could realize what was happening, getting stuck where it met bone. She screamed, but was soon silenced by another blow. While it was supposed to be lethal, she simply vanished into a cloud of black smoke instead of dropping dead on the ground.
Leon was next, aiming for the person who was closest to where he stood which, to Astarion's despair, happened to be his darling. The spawn's claws slashed their skin open, blood splattering on the floor as they yelped in pain. Astarion didn't think — he simply acted, pouncing on Leon only to drive his dagger through his heart one, two, three times, until he too vanished into thin air. He snapped his head back in their direction just in time to see Yousen sneaking up, grabbing them from behind and sinking his teeth into their neck. The scream, the way their eyes squeezed shut in agony and their hands clawed against the spawn holding them still was enough to make Astarion see red.
He hardly remembered moving. But he did remember the screams. Not from his darling, but from his brother, as he drove the dagger into the side of his neck and twisted it. He looked back at his lover again, but the dark cloud from Yousen obscured his vision. He didn't hear screaming anymore. Only his ears ringing slightly and the sound of laboured breathing from his companions.
When he could finally see again, he almost wished he couldn't. That'd be better than the sight of his beloved's body sprawled out on the floor atop a pool of blood, their empty, cold eyes gazing into his soul. He rushed to their side despite his shaking legs, stumbling on his way there until he fell to his knees beside them. He raised their head by the back of their neck, resting it on top of his thigh. He hardly realized he was hyperventilating, hands shaking violently as he cradled one of their cheeks in his palm. "No, no... You can't die. Wake up, damn it!" He choked out, his voice rising from a whisper full of disbelief to a screech of the utmost despair.
Karlach too rushed to their side, fumbling with her bag with quivering hands. "H-Hold on, soldier, I think..." She stuttered out nervously before cutting herself off as she pulled a scroll of revivify from the bag. She knelt next to the two and placed the parchment atop the corpse's chest. It glowed a bright white light, seemingly seeping into their skin. There was a deafening silence for a few seconds when suddenly, they woke up with a loud gasp, eyes widening as life was brought back into their being.
The pale elf didn't waste a second before pulling them into a hug, not minding the blood staining his clothes. He hid his face in the crook of their neck, only a small sob and whisper being heard from him. "Oh, thank the gods... Please, please never do that again..." He choked out before pulling away from the embrace, cupping their cheek and pressing his lips against theirs. He never felt that before. That immense sense of hopelessness, agony and grief. Not to this level, not of this kind — and he'd make sure he never felt it again.
However, as he pulled away from the kiss, he saw something in the distance. Aurelia, bleeding out on the ground, watching them seconds before she too vanished into the darkness. If he still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat out of sheer terror alone. Cazador knew. He knew about his spawn's newfound love. And Astarion would have to be a fool not to expect his master to take advantage of that fact.
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Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 1/7)
Since the edited episodes are starting to come out, I figured that bc of that and the fact that I've been keeping this in the back burner for a loooong while now, might as well complete all my friendlocke violet gijinkas!! Some are gonna stay the same while others are gonna have slight/ complete redesigns, so please keep that in mind!
I plan on posting them in order by groups of three, so there's gonna be seven parts in total, all of which I'll be linking here when done vvv
(Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)
!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) !!
@saltydkart-reblogs
And that's pretty much it, designs under the cut!
LARK:
HUGE nerd. spent most of his time during the Uva Academy studying different kinds of pokemon as well as different fighting styles he can utilize once he is able to go out on his own journey with his very own trainer! Too bad that didn't really help in the long run...
His entire wardrobe consists of McDonald's related outfits. It's fucking insane. He even has some from long LONG ago that aren't available anywhere else.
The bubble pattern on his hair is able to move and change. Nobody knows how this is possible, not even Lark himself. All Lark knows is that his hair looks incredibly stylish!
Speaking of bubbles, he has the ability to blow bubbles whenever and wherever he pleases!
Often keeps himself extremely clean and gets upset if even a small speck of dirt gets on him, despite this he somehow smells like McDonald's food and axe body spray. Disgusting. He's so cool!
Even after death he still likes to hang around the other team members as a ghost, often getting to know the newer members as well as reuniting with the old ones. Sometimes they see him, sometimes they don't. It usually depends.
SARA:
Due to being a human in her past life, Sara is able to actually speak with the other humans in the pokemon world. However she usually doesn't due to it being seen as extremely weird and out of place. She did slip up once while talking in the presence of Arven, who thought it was the weed making him hear things.
Oinkologne are usually unable to do much with their hooves but Sara spent nights practicing how to knit with her new hooves and now she's able to do it flawlessly. I don't know how she managed to do that but go queen!
When first joining the team she'd often have the urge to eat her food related companions. It was a strange time for Sara, but she managed to overcome it.
When Peppy gets sick, she usually is the one who nurses him back to health. She was a human once so she often is able to figure out whatever sickness Peppy has and treat it properly. I suppose she's like a second mother to him.
The bag she carries with her is full of thread that she collected from various Tarountula she encountered on the journey, as well as little things she knits together in her spare time.
For the most part, Sara forgives... but NEVER forgets.
Did you guys know that Sara has a new YouTube channel? Check it out!
Pastey:
Before joining the team, Pastey was a nameless wanderer. He's been down every road in Paldea and knows almost the entire region (except for Area Zero) like the back of his hand.
He's gotten hurt pretty badly throughout the run (ie. the Mikey fight, the Atticus fight, and ESPECIALLY the final battle), however, he does not gain any (physical) scars from those fights. This is bc he's basically an axolotl, and axolotls are usually able to heal without scarring.
Pastey's "arms" are, to put it simply, mud prosthetics. More info here vvv
Pastey HAS met Mall Bingo once before the run, however, he doesn't recognize her. The only reason he does not recognize her is bc she wears glasses. (You know how people somehow aren't able to recognize Superman bc he wears glasses in his civilian attire even tho his face remains the same? It's basically like that lmao)
Unlike the lightbulbs he eats, the gasoline he drinks isn't really mandatory to his diet. Gasoline is like alcohol to him and he drinks it like an absolute CHAMP.
He goes fishing when there's nothing else to do or when he can't sleep at night. He doesn't do this bc he thinks it's fun or anything, only bc it's a "good time passer" or so he claims. Other members of the team will often sit with him and vent out anything that's troubling them at the moment, and Pastey is always there to listen to them.
And that's pretty much it. Next is Joe, Hannah Ü, and Mykyie!
#I am a firm believer that Sara can and will beat ass#No i do NOT plan on making gijinka designs for Chatbike and Phil sorry guys#just getting that out of the way i know how much yall love phil /j /lh#Anyways it feels so good to finally start on this like holy moly#also idk when the others will be done... HOWEVER...#The sketches for Joe Hannah and Mikey are already pretty much done I just gotta make em digital#so ideally they'll be out pretty soonish I'd say... I hope#but yeah if anyone has any questions abt them feel free to send them in my askbox and I'll be happy to answer them as best as i can!#<- No anons tho sorry yall#Also I need to be honest here Lark's outfit kinda does look atrocious and I couldve changed it... BUT...#I honestly thought it was WAY funnier if Lark's attire looked weird on purpose so I kept it like that lol#Anyways sorry for the word vomit here are the tags#friendlocke#friendlocke violet#saltydkdan#should my gijinkas have their own tag...? Sure why not#Violet Gijinka Au#cherris canvas
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IM BACK CUZ IM MENTALLY UNWELL OK. and yes you’re the best sub Leon writer 😏🥱 and yes I liked it, SITTING ON HIS FACE? 😍🥱
I’m so sorry for blasting ur req box but YOURE AN ACTUALLY GOOD SUB LEON WRITER SO can you blame me?
concept: idk why but re4 Leon is so free use coded and so imagine he is on a mission with a new assigned partner but she’s an asshole to him (“fuck off man, I can do it myself, “I don’t need your help”, “you’re too nice and gonna be taken advantage of 😐”, etc. You get the gist) and his goofy ass just tryna be nice and helpful, cuz this is leon we are talking about. But the fun part ⁉️ they have cameras installed in the hideout they are saying at for security purposes. But ofc, Leon always tries to check on reader to make sure she’s ok - even if she’s an asshole to him. AND YK WHAT READER DOES 😭 she’s way too horny and just goes at it, girl got a masturbation problem on god. Every night. One night - wrong time and place - Leon opens his laptop to see the cameras making sure she’s ok AND HELP HE SEES HER … yk. And he feels guilty like he shouldn’t watch but he does anyways. And this goes on for weeks. Until one night he’s sick and tired of her always being so mean and he accidentally lets it slip that he’s been watching her LOL AND SHES LIKE UHM BOY WHAT 🙄⁉️ and he tries to play it off like “I didnt mean to” but like, my brother in Christ… you’ve been watching every night for weeks 🤨 wdym you didn’t mean to? ANYWAYS LONG STORY SHORT SHE PUNISHES HIM AND HEAVYYYY ON THE FREE USE THING. Love you bae 😘
i made a couple minor changes just for convenience :) fem reader she/her pronouns!
also i didn’t write the smex scene IM SORRY but i have been working on this all day and i need to get to other asks but i promise i’ll write some more free use in the future because it’s so smexy
-
"look, i know you don't like me-"
"oh? really? tell me what you think you know, kennedy," you scowl at him, and though it spooks him just a little, he tries to seem unphased.
he frowns, not hurt by your words but definitely concerned that you'll make a bad partner, "you don't need to be this hostile. we're allies. we're supposed to have each other's backs."
"right..." your voice echos, and leon knows that if it came down to it, you wouldn't protect him, wouldn't save him, would barely help him. he's practically on his own for this mission, just has an extra body with him to shoot at the bad guys.
it hurts, to some degree, because even without knowing you well, and even with you being cold and rude to him, he knows he'd come to your rescue in a heartbeat. something about him feels fond of you, even though in your entire time knowing leon kennedy, you haven't said one nice thing to him.
he thinks that maybe he likes that you've never been nice to him. he doesn't really know what to do with that thought.
-
leon is proved wrong.
despite the harshness of your words, you come to his rescue, fighting off the villager who almost decapitated him with an axe like both of your lives depend on it (because they do).
he watches you fight nervously, but when you come out on top, aside from the gash wound you take to the hip, he feels his heart skip a beat.
"this is what happens when you hurt my partner," you groan, holding your side, trying to speak through the pain even though leon can see the blood seeping between your fingers.
you whisper something in your victim's ear, something leon can't quite make out, before you kill him. leon wonders what it was briefly. he decides it doesn’t matter.
you both breathe a sigh of relief, but it's short lived as you collapse to the ground. you saved him. you got hurt saving him.
"here, let me help you," he mutters, coming over to you, not even stopping to ask if you want his help because he knows you'll say no, "stop fighting me. you're hurt and i need to patch you up."
the pain is agonizing, but even through gritted teeth and tense breaths, you push through it. he has to commend you a little bit, you're tougher than you look.
but when you try to push his hand away, claiming "i'm fine, kennedy," he sees the struggle in your face, hears the hurt in your voice. his heart seems to stop. he's worried, "i can do it myself, you don't have to- fuck, dude, i don't need your help-."
"-just relax, okay? i got you..”
you don't have the strength to push him away, but you know you shouldn't anyway, so you just slouch back against the wall and try to breathe, "fine, just fuckin... hurry up."
"i'm just trying to take care of you. we're partners, right? i gotta look out for you," he smiles, trying to lighten the mood even slightly. he wishes that this would be the time the barriers come down, that those skyscraper walls that prevented him from coming any closer to you emotionally could come crashing down, if only for a moment.
"you don't have to do anything. you're choosing to put yourself in danger to help me," you groan as you lean back, looking up at the ceiling, "suprised that no one's tried to take advantage of your willingness to help before."
"someone did," he mutters annoyedly, focusing more on the wound then it being your wound, on your body. his eyebrows, almost naturally furrowed from years of stress, somehow make his face even more sad to gaze upon. it's not that he's unattractive, far from it, but he's... worn. tired. a piece of your heart, no matter how far you keep away from him, aches in sympathy.
-
leon carries you back to the safe room, a hideout you both are using to rest and recover in while you plot your next move. he lays his jacket on the ground to at least give you something comfortable to lie on. you don't look comfortable, but he can't do anything else to help you.
he looks through his things, trying to concoct something that will at least make you feel a little bit better. he finds a first aid spray, and his heart jumps out of his chest in excitement. he uses it to take care of your wound, and waits for you to wake up from your unconscious state.
he decides to go back out, hoping to maybe find some other things to help you both on your mission. he knows you'll berate him for leaving on his own, risking his own life needlessly. but god if he didn't imagine what it would be like if he found something you could really use, and watch your eyes light up. even if you didn't like him, you'd be happy. he wants to see you smile, to praise him for a job well done.
he cringes at how pathetic it sounds, but he sets off either way, leaving you wrapped in his jacket with a note from him saying what he's doing.
-
he doesn't do it intentionally. at least... not the first time. genuinely, he just wanted to check up on you, make sure you were alive and breathing and safe. and you definitely were.
he doesn't know why its so hypnotizing, why he can't put his goddamn phone away with the stupid security app on it. of course it's you, though. you're hypnotizing.
he watches every pixel, every distorted view of you touching yourself in the safe room, obviously unaware that he could... see this. he's glad there's no audio, or else he'd be unable to control himself, even in an abandoned building surrounded by zombies. maybe its the years that haven hardened him, burned the fear out of his soul and numbed him to the presence of those things, but he doesn't feel anything but uncontrollable desire right now.
have you been doing it the whole time? you both had spilt off from each other multiple times, and he would almost be upset at the idea that every time he was fighting for his life and barely, barely winning that fight each time, you were getting off a couple hundred feet from him in another room... if it wasn't so fucking hot to watch you masturbate.
he keeps watching until he notices that you're having an orgasm, body twitching and your chest heaving up and down as you take deep breathes. it's so fucking sexy, leon probably could have cum on the spot if he watched anymore.
-
you keep doing it. he keeps watching it. over the course of the mission (of course he had to be stuck on a long, secluded recon mission with you of all people) he's watched you too many times. he doesn't think he has enough fingers to count how many times, which either means he's been on this mission longer than he thought or you have a fucking addiction. he's almost kind of impressed at how efficient you are. takes you 10 minutes tops, and then you just get back up and keep on trucking? his sentimental, post-nut ass could never.
and, though you recovered from your wound, you haven't displayed any sense of gratitude for leon taking care of you when you passed out after getting hurt. not that he expects it, truthfully. you saved his life, he saved yours. you were even.
he just doesn't feel like he's broken any new ground. he feels like, if anything, you feel even further away, emotionally. he's about had it.
"hey, we need to talk," he says, ominously; he doesn't intend it to be so, "i understand you don't like me. it's fine. i don't even care anymore. but i am tired of you talking to me like i'm a pushover."
you look over at him, reloading your gun with a displeased look on your face. leon hates the inner urge he has to cave and apologize to you, as if his body would rather give up any sense of dignity he still has in favor of being slightly more tolerable to you.
"well? are you going to say something?"
you scoff, looking away, "didn't know you were so fucking sensitive, kennedy," and you turn around, ready to walk out, before he snaps,
"this isn't a pleasure trip. sorry you're not having a good time."
"clearly you're having a good time with all the pleasure you're giving yourself while i'm trying not to die."
he stops. panicking. trying to think of how to spin the words he just said and make it not sound like he knew every tell you had when you were about to cum or exactly how you touch yourself in order to get yourself off quickly.
you stop as well. and you look back at him with this expression on your face that is completely unreadable.
maybe it wasn't the best move to reveal the only card he had left to play if it mean he would get this reaction out of you considering that, again, you so clearly do not like him.
... right?
"what... did you say, kennedy?" you ask, pure venom in your voice. it's not a question, you so clearly heard him correctly.
"i- i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that-"
"have you been watching me?" you take a step closer, eyes boring into his soul so intensely he can't make eye contact. he has no way out of this situation. he feels out of breath, nervous, god why are you getting so close to him? "answer me, leon," not kennedy, leon, "have you been watching me masturbate?"
he looks up, trying to keep himself from making eye contact. he knows the second he looks into your eyes, he will be putty in your hands, free for you to mold into whatever you'd like. he knows you're not looking at him with distain like usual, it's something else.
something hungry.
"yeah," he breathes, barely getting the world out at all. you take a deep breath, as if you're debating what you're going to do.
"what you did was wrong, you see that, right?"
"yes, i know, but-"
you scoff, annoyed. god why in this moment, just inches away from you, you notice the moles on his neck, the angle of his jaw, the entrancing aura of his eyes. it's so damn distracting, and you have to pull yourself together, "but nothing. you watched me without my consent, you got off on it, didn't you?"
"god, you're making it sound so bad, i... i'm sorry, okay? how can i make it up to you?" he asks, trying so damn hard as always to please.
this is where you come to realize that maybe you didn't hate leon kennedy all this time. maybe you found yourself too comfortable, too at ease in his presence. maybe he was safe and sweet and gentle and it didn't sit right because nothing in a world with zombies and bioweapons and cults and parasites was gentle. but leon is.
you look down, considering your options, "i have an idea. you're free to refuse and we go back to before, and you get nothing from me. do you want to hear it?"
"sure?"
you take a breath, going for it, "i’ll be… blunt. if you couldn’t tell, i’m a bit.. insatiable. i need something to get myself off now that i’m getting bored of my own hands out here. you help me, and i’ll forgive you for watching me.”
his thoughts stop. he genuinely can’t put together a coherent thought, what did you mean? "are you.. are you fucking serious? you barely speak to me, every time you do speak to me you act like i'm the scum of the earth, you act like i'm not here when i saved your ass and carried you and patched you up, i-”
you cut him off with a kiss. it’s not gentle, it’s rough and messy and your fingers dig into the skin of his cheeks, leaving him red and breathless. he finally gets it. you don’t want him to help you, you want to use him.
he lets you push him down, pin his body to the wall as you kiss him breathless. he lets you dig your nails into his neck even if it hurts. he lets you touch and kiss him as rough or as gentle as you like. and you don’t like being gentle, clearly.
“use me,” he whispers between kisses, and when you pull away, eyeing him intently, as if urging him to explain himself, he does, “do whatever you want. just keep going until you’re satisfied. don’t… don’t hold back. whatever pleases you… i want that. i want to please you.”
“awh, you just want me to be happy with you, don’t you?” you coo at him, endeared by his selflessness. truly a good man in a bad world, “that’s all you’ve ever wanted, hm? for me to like you?”
his resolve cracks just a little bit more, “uhm, yeah…” he his voice is shaky, unsteady, and he just needs to give in.
“then you’re going to let me do this every single time in horny and need something to get myself off. i’m going to do whatever i want to you, and i’m not going to ask. you’re just going to let me. if you don’t, then we go right back to being enemies, and you really don’t want that, right?”
he stutters aimlessly, his knees going weak. he’d truly be done for if you weren’t hold him up with a strength he did not know you had.
and you just keep going, “i’m not going to ask or care if it’s a bad time. i want it to be inconvenient, uncomfortable, ill-timed. i want it to be permanently in your head that i can have you whenever i want you. that i can do whatever i want to you.”
“only i get to have you, got it?”
“g-got it,” he mutters weakly, feeling your hands on him, touching him in places he hasn’t been touched in a while. he didn’t realize how desperate he was.
“only i get to touch you, only i… get to fuck you.”
he nods helplessly.
“it’s too bad i didn’t bring a dildo in my bag when we set off for this mission, because i would so fuck you with it until you’re seeing stars and apologizing for going behind my back… but i suppose i’ll just have to satisfy myself with your cock…”
#sub leon kennedy#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon s. kennedy#leon kennedy smut#sub leon kennedy smut#resident evil#leon kennedy resident evil#resident evil smut#reader insert#smut#sub!leon#re2r leon#re2 smut#re2#re2r#re4#re4 leon#re4 remake#re4 smut#resident evil 4
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A'right, strap in because I'm coming in here with a potentially 🔥 hot take 🔥
Kerry Eurodyne's change in design between past and present—entirely purposeful.
It's not coincidence. It's not to placate the audience. It's not to make him more attractive, more 'romanceable'.
I wanted to write this miniature analysis because frankly, I'm sick and tired of seeing people harp on CDPR for this. I'm tired of seeing people write this off as something they didn't put thought into, claiming that they were being so artificial about this.
Kerry is a musician—a rockstar, to be precise. He’s in the trenches of one of the most cutthroat industries out there, has been for decades. Forced to adapt and change, most of the time against his own volition or desires—because he must make profit not just for himself, but also his label. And it’s a relative consensus that a certain L.B. Kovachek was the most notable apex of Kerry’s change.
We don't get much detail about the time between Samurai's disbandment and 2077, but I think it's reasonable to assume the bulk of this transformation came to fruition when Kerry started going solo. Change the hair, eyes, and hell, even the skin tone (changing it a bit, adding freckles).
What would be the goal of that, though? Simple. Make him a pretty boy, the sort that will get people fighting for the front row just to swoon at him, that will make his albums sell just by plastering his face on their covers.
Make Kerry marketable.
I know it's hard, but put yourself in the shoes of a slimy record label manager for a second as you look between these two images. Which one screams rockstar the most? Which one better encompasses that rough-and-tumble, 'sex, drugs, rock 'n roll' vibe that sells?
And maybe you are sat there wondering: Well, why would Kerry allow that to happen, then? Why wouldn't he fight against it?
Because he wants to change things. After the death of Johnny, especially. He wants his own identity—in so many ways. Developing himself into what would become Eurodyne is the perfect catalyst for that. So, he leaps at it, like a fish to a lure.
So comes Kerry as we know him now, complete with cyberware that monetarily benefits his career (i.e. ear and throat, most notably). Yes, he looks drastically different. And that is the point.
He isn't that same naive man back in the days of living in Johnny's shadow. No, now, Kerry is Kerry. Kerry fuckin' Eurodyne, with an axe, attitude, and audience.
And that is the point.
Does his new appearance make him more conventionally attractive? Sure. Is that entirely because of some meta bullshit so the studio can wrangle people into his romance path? Fuck no. Give CDPR the credit they more than deserve; no way this was coincidental.
#stone one in the path to expressing my Kerry Thoughts without giving a fuck. y'all welcome.#kerry eurodyne#character analysis#cyberpunk 2077#c2077#khar hot take
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Freddie playing dnd with himself is possibly the funniest thing to ever happen. Also bonus of Jimmy roasting Freddie for his improv.
[Audio Transcript:
[Instrumental Highway to Hell plays]
Taylor: Wait wait wait wait!
Link: What’s up Taylor?
Taylor: Throw me.
Link: Thr-
Taylor:Like a javelin. Into the guitar.
Normal: [gasps]
Link: Okay
Matt: What am I rolling?
Anthony: You’re rolling a ranged attack, cuz you’re throwing a thing at a thing
Matt: Uhh I rolled an 18
Anthony: Okay so Freddie, as Glenn, roll opposed perception, see if you notice this thing coming for your axe.
Freddie: 19 plus 5 24
Matt: Jeez-
Will: Fuck
Anthony: Okay so you know that the thing is coming towards your axe, you can choose how to react to that
Freddie: I think I’m gonna just spin around and roundhouse kick this object out of the air
Matt: Come on, you need to help out as Taylor. As he notices them
Jimmy: [laughs] no! I think Glenn’s more important
Matt: As- as Taylor, you should say-
Freddie: But as Taylor, Taylor anticipates the move, you know what I’m saying?
[laughter]
Jimmy: Don’t you have to roll for this?
Freddie: No no no! Because-
Matt: I- I just think-
Will: This is the rest of the episode, I’m just telling you in advance
Beth: Yeah
Anthony: I just gave Freddie a blue boxing glove and a red boxing glove and he’s just hitting himself with both hands over and over
[laughter]
Freddie: And they’re like, this is the most fun I’ve ever had! So Taylor’s anticipating the worst possible outcome so he’s steeled himself for it. So he’s going to adjust his spin trajectory-
[laughter]
Freddie: As it’s spiraling, Taylor’s gonna be like
Anthony: [high pitched laughing]
Taylor: He’s making a move!
Freddie: And then Taylor’s gonna like throw his head around the other direction to like change the directory of the fucking- you know what I’m saying dude? So then this candy cane-
Anthony: [still laughing but sounding more like a seal than a human] Then what does Glenn do when he sees this happening?
Beth [overlapping]: Oh my god
Matt [overlapping]: No!
Jimmy: [Laughs]
Freddie: Yeah, you see that Glenn, Glenn knows-
Matt: Wait, what muscles are you using?
Will: Let him cook, let him cook!
Anthony: [seal-like laughter has returned]
Jimmy: [laughs] oh
Freddie: You see, but you see, Glenn knows. Glenn knows that this-
Matt: [laughs]
[someone hits the table cuz they’re laughing a bunch]
Freddie: this trajectory – [dissolves into laughter]
Beth: Oh my god
Jimmy: This is like-
Anthony: [Still dying of laughter]
Freddie: So! So Glenn interrupts, Glenn holds a fucking sick twisted bend on the fucking 12th fret of the B-string as he turns around and grabs the candy cane out of the air dude! And then he’s face to face with Taylor and he’s like
[everyone is laughing throughout]
Glenn: Heh, you think you’ve got what it takes to defeat me?
Freddie: [laughing] and then Taylor, okay-
[everyone laughs for a solid 6 seconds, also Anthony still sounds like a seal]
Freddie: Taylor goes
Taylor: You’re quicker than I thought old man
[everyone laughs even louder for 8 full seconds]
Freddie: And Glenn goes
Glenn: Heh, nothing personnel kid
Freddie: And he throws- and he throws the fucking candy cane into like space! Like as hard as he can
[everyone laughing]
Matt: He just throws it up and it never comes down?
Anthony: [more seal like noises]
Freddie: Like he launches that shit dude. He launches that shit with all of his might
[everyone laughing]
Someone ??: Oh my god
Freddie: What was that, athletics? Athletics I think?
Beth: [laughs]
Jimmy: So we’re going with this right?
Freddie: It’s athletics Anthony?
Jimmy: [laughs] Anthony is dead
Will: He’s done
Jimmy: Anthony can’t even talk [laughter]
Will: He’s fully deactivated
Matt: Anthony died
Jimmy: He can’t even move! No sound’s coming out of his mouth
[laughter]
Anthony: [gasping for breath]
Matt: Anthony’s died
Anthony: [sobbing from laughter noises]
Jimmy: Yeah now he’s crying adequately
Freddie: Aw fuck
Beth: Oh my god
Anthony: [still out of breath] okay, yeah it’s athletics
Freddie: okay. [laughs] So Glenn rolls a six plus seven 13 and is like
Glenn: Heh, Not my best throw
[laughter]
[music fades out]
Matt: I was gonna say you could give him the big like you know sad eyeballs and be like grandpa you know. It’s like, give him something to make him- to faze him
Jimmy: Well technically, he’s not his grandpa
Freddie: Yeah technically no.
Matt: W- well he cares
Freddie: Technically Jodie’s my grandpa
Jimmy: Yeah technically I’m your grandpa
Matt: Oh how’re you related to Glenn
Jimmy: [aggressively] He’s Not!!
Freddie: I’m not
Matt: Oh you’re not
Jimmy: Canonically
Freddie: Yeah he’s just like, a guy
Matt: Oh, yeah
Anthony: Spiritually kind of-
Matt: But like Taylor doesn’t care
Jimmy: Spiritually because it’s Freddie behind the wheel both times
Freddie: Spiritually kind of in the same way like, I playing guitar am spiritually connected with Stevie Ray Vaughan but I’m not related to him whatsoever, ya know
Anthony: Yeah
Freddie: We share a bond through the kinship of music
Jimmy: And Taylor and Glenn share a bond through the kinship of this is just how Freddie improvises
[laughter]
End Transcript]
#I've returned from the war (grad school) to give y'all my favorite freddie moment#also quite possibly my favorite anthony laugh#plz enjoy!#dndads#dungeons and daddies#long post#my audio
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Literal man hunt!!
Ghost and Soap who are protective of their land like they're Americans, literally guns everywhere and shooting anyone suspicious on sight because they have many enemies and a lot of people would love to kill them once they're retired.
But our girl literally just...got lost. She stumbled across their cabin like a baby deer because she is either got lost or was running from someone. It was the first time ever when Ghost missed a shot...and he is happy he did because now they have an adorable injured darling!!
Her leg is no good so they help her, get her treatment from a real doctor even but of course you have to stay with them, you're cold and hurt and delusional because you're their soulmate and their perfect little pet who can't even resist because they are providing food and shelter. Living cottagecore life with your two murderous husbands but you really don't want to be here.
And you want to ran away but you physically can't. Soap is constantly doting on poor us, supports us when we have to make food because they are horrible at it, Ghost is adoring the sight. Retirement is nice when you have a little pet near you.
Eventually they even force us help them with other victims!! Like cleaning the blood from Ghost and Soap in the shower, listen to their various hunting stories, hold the ammo for them once we can escort them in the forest.....the possibilities are endless. Other victims think we can help them, but we just cry and apologize over and over as Soap bashes their brains with an axe
being forced to help with their other victims... my guy you should read Brother by Ania Ahlborn, man is forced to help his serial killer family dispose of their victims
also below the cut i kinda barely touched on the concept you sent but it's so good and i had nothing to add im sorry :(
cw below for like... very light gore? description of murder fitting of a horror movie
wandering around lost through the woods and randomly getting fucking shot, only for someone to come running out of the trees and asking if you're ok??? has me going bonkers
also this is totally giving the most dangerous game so i present you: soap and ghost kidnap groups of people and hunt them for sport, but when you wake up they realize that they want you to stay alive. maybe soap pretends to be one of the victims, teams up with you to help you (help keep you alive) and herds you in the direction of their cabin without you knowing
you only realize what's going on when he slaughters another person, someone who wants to team up with you two. sure the way the new guy looked at you made you uncomfortable... but johnny split his head open with an axe when he reaches for you, splits him right down the middle and leaves you staring up at him, both of you covered in blood
and now what, right?
you learn you've been kidnapped to be prey in some sick bastard's idea of fun, and now the one man you thought might help you through this turns out to be that sick bastard?
and johnny's pretty pissed, he'd wanted to play along with you for a little longer :/ but that other motherfucker had forced his hand, had tried to touch you, and he couldn't just let that happen. and now you're screaming and crawling away from him, which is bullshit because he was literally protecting you
so now you've got pissy serial killer johnny, grabbing you by the elbow and dragging you behind him despite your best struggles, grunting and asking can you just fuckin' relax for a minute while you stare up at him like ?!?!!?!?!?!
anyway he drags you to where simon's been hunting the others, drops you at his feet and crosses his arms all angrily. ghost just raises an eyebrow, "i thought you wanted to play along with them this time?"
and johnny's pouty about it, damn near tapping his foot in complaint. "wanted to play along with her, but some bastard got touchy."
you manage to scramble away, get up and fucking sprint through the forest because oh my god the guy johnny took you to had a fucking crossbow, only to trip over a wire and end up locked in a net, six feet off the ground
and here comes johnny and ghost, sauntering out of the woods and looking up at you in the air. johnny laughs at you, and you're crying so hard you can hardly even see them
anyways, they leave you in the net while they deal with their other prey <3 come back for you at the end of the night and take you home with them
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Idea! How about Bullfrog being reunited with Reader after he's freed from his execution?
Wholesome reunion Q_Q
A/N: I love this one omg Also I'm making this a two part fic, if you don't mind~ It's getting a bit too long lol The next part will be much longer and will have the wholesome reunion I promise. But I'm doing this because I added a bit something~ We are rescuing him. (This part might be a bit cringe I'm so sorry for that.)
Bullfrog x h!reader
Warnings: heavhy spoiler warning, angst, panic attack, guns
Masterlist
Word Count: 2k
Taglist: @blorbostation
Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?
Execution
"Today also marks the beginning of the hearing of Bullfrog, Dolph Laserhawk's partner in crime. He's currently being held at the MegaCity 1 courthouse—"
The TV remote fell out of your hand. You were just about to change the channel. You didn't like Rayman's show at all, but…
"What the fuck? This has to be a joke." That was the first thing you uttered, your form shaking. Your mind still couldn't perceive the person whose picture you saw on TV.
"Bullfrog..." you muttered. It has to be a joke, r-right? A cruel, sick joke. He can't be caught.
Laserhawk? You heard about that guy before. The fuck Bullfrog been doing with him? Why didn't he tell you anything?!
After weeks of not even hearing from him... he shows up in your TV being announced to be caught?
Your weak legs couldn't be able to carry your weight anymore, you fell on your knees, your hands trying to support your body as you gasp for breath. God, no, please no. This can't be happening. He said he will be fine! The last time you saw him. He PROMISED!! He has to be fine! This has to be some kind of trick!!!
But you knew it wasn't. This time he was caught. You don't know how. But he did. And he is in trouble.
You shook your head, No. It's not gonna end like this. Not on your watch. "H-he needs help." You sniffed, and glared at the screen.
"And he will get one." This time you will be the one to help him out.
You quickly got up and rushed inside your room with a new found hope. You were hiding some guns and weapons that might be useful one day. You can’t know what would happen anytime if you are living with an assassin, right?
A plan forming in your head. Without wasting any time you picked up a bag and stuffed inside of it with weapons that could help you.
You paused, your hand hovered over the guns. You grunted, you don’t want to actually kill anyone. You only loaded your bag with an ax, electric shocks and tranquilizer guns. You shook your head, you never knew what could happen. You pick up the smallest of them all and stuff it in your bag.
You picked up your bag and rushed outside of your house. Let’s visit a court.
You stood outside of the building, observing it. You didn't need to since you were coming here you searched about literally everything about this place. Well, the best things could help you was the place's blueprints and guards routine. You knew they wouldn't let you get inside with your bag that easily. So you are gonna choose a bit more risky way to get in.
You approached the building. You were repeating inside your head to relax. At the entrance, you saw the security guards checking the people and their bags with a device. You reassure yourself that you got this. When it was your turn, you threw a small device you were holding in your palm at the device held by the security. This disabled his device.
"What are you here for?"
"My father have a hearing today. I can't miss it and I don't have much time to lose either. My little sister waiting for me back home." He nodded at that and quickly checked on your bag and your clothes. He nodded for you to walk pass. You thanked him and walked past him. You heaved a sigh. Now you just had to find the room where Bullfrog was being held captive.
You quickly and attentively searched around the court. After walking past a few rooms you find a corridor cleared out of people, and at the end of it two men were guarding a huge door. You stealthily watched them from the sidelines for a while and glared. Good. You found him.
You carefully turned around and glanced. Noone was there. Great. You pulled out your tranquilizer gun and pointed it at them. You hoped the accuracy lessons you've been studying all this time would pay off.
You shot one of them and before the other could react you quickly shot him too. You sighed in relief as both fell on the ground unconscious. You were actually really relieved.
You quickly rushed to their side. Okay, maybe you shouldn't have bothered bringing a gun. You could use their gun to free him right?
You decided to carry both of their bodies inside so as not to attract anyone's attention. You grabbed one of the man's hands and pulled him towards you, embracing him and opening the door with your shoulder and dragging him in. He was so heavy that the moment you stepped inside, you lost your balance and fell face down. The worst part was that you fell on the man you were dragging. When you realized you were face to face with him, you struggled not to yelp and immediately pulled yourself back in disgust. You rubbed your hands on your clothes.
You heard a muffled voice calling your name. Your eyes widen with the familiar accent. You glanced back inside. There he was being imprisoned in a transparent orange box. You jumped to your feet but before you could run up to him you paused and glanced at the mans scattered on the ground.
You stuttered out frustered and pointed a finger up, "Gimme a sec." Bullfrog watched you struggle while you carried both men inside, he was really impressed but that could be said another time. Right now he has other important things to discuss with you.
You dusted your hands and sighed when you were finally able to close the doors.
"Did you kill them?" He doubted you did but if you did his mind would be blown a bit more.
"Nah. They are sleeping. I shoot them with a tranquilizer gun." You showed him your gun with a grin.
He wasn't smiling, yes, he was happy to see you but not like this. "You shouldn't have come."
"And let them make you their little prisoner? You should have known better."
"You don't understand–"
"No, you don't understand. I'm trying to save you here. So, help me will ya? You might by any chance know the password?"
"Non…"
"Guess so… Now, lemme work." You opened your bag and pulled your ax out.
"If you get caught–"
"I will not–"
"If you do, I will never forgive myself."
You rolled your eyes and approached the password, maybe malfunctioning it could help, "And why is that? It was my choice to come to you."
"I don't want you to be here. It's dangerous."
You paused, your heart skipping a beat, "Don't you think I don't know that? I know the risks."
"I am sure you are aware, I'm just merely reminding you how bad it could be to be caught trying to help a 'terrorist' escape."
"I will help you escape no matter what." You growled and raised your ax.
"Don't do anything stupid before thinking–!!"
" 'Do not do anything that you will regret' Is this what you are trying to say?! I'm trying to save your ass here and you are dismissing it?! Just let me help you get out of this place! You saw how I got inside without getting caught! You think I am inept–"
"I will be executed soon." Your eyes widen. "I'm not questioning your skills or looking down on you, you know. I know my time is limited, I don't want to lush away but I don't have any choice. I'm really glad to see you, believe me. I didn't want to die without seeing you one last time. But you shouldn't be here. Go. If they catch you... I... I don't want them to hurt you because of me. Je t'aime—"
You quickly walk in front of him, "No, I don't want to listen to this. What you just said is even more reason for me to help you out! And.I.am.not.going.anywhere.until.you.are.freed. I don't care what they would do to me I would rather die trying to help you. If it meant to save you, I'll do anything. And if you talk nonsense like that again, I'll beat you myself when you get out of here. So, back to that hopeful and positive frog that I love, because this conversation is starting to bore me."
His eyes widened with that. A bittersweet smile forming on his lips and he chuckled weakly. He pressed his hand where yours pressing on the other side. "Je t'aime tellement."
You smile at that. Your grip tightened on your ax. "Now where were we?"
"I believe you were about to rescue me?"
You smirked, "Ah, yes." You walked towards the password and raised your ax, you cut the device in half and the electricity from it spread around. You turned around, expecting to see Bullfrog freed, but he was still imprisoned. You shook your head at this, "Okay that didn't work. We'll try another way."
"You don't have much time, mon amour. Be quick."
You gripped your ax and ran towards him. You swing the ax on it with all your strength, but you could only leave a scratch. You stepped back, out of breath, and immediately reached for your bag. You took out your stun gun and shot it with the highest voltage, but it didn't work. Your worries and fear were growing more and more. You looked at your bag, out of breath. There was nothing else you could use.
Bullfrog watched your despairing form, the little hope that had revived within him vanishing. A sad smile formed on his lips, as he hummed, "You know... I was stunned the moment I saw you carrying that man through the door. I really didn't expected it. I have to say I'm really impressed and proud. And while swinging that ax and shooting that gun… You looked really h—"
You perked up, "Gun! Wait! Wait! What if I use one of the soldier's guns? Would that damage this damn glass?"
He paused, "Uh, Je ne sais pas…"
You quickly went to the men and picked up their guns, "Okay, if this works… you might wanna step a bit aside."
He quickly walked back and pressed his back on the wall with a thumbs up.
You glared and started to shoot the guns towards the glass, nearly emptying the guns. But still no progress. You groaned in frustration. If guns doesn't work either what the fuck do you gonna do.
"What the fuck these things made off?" You scoffed. You throw the guns away.
"Maybe you should start thinking of going back before someone comes in." He hesitantly informed you.
"I said I am not going back and I will not. If I can't save you then… I'll wait the time with you." You sit beside him.
"Don't be like that, you still have a lot to do!"
"Well, none of that will matter if you are not by my side!"
He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out of his mouth. He shook his head and sat down. After a few minutes of silence he sighed.
"What if I told you that there might be another way?"
You tiredly chuckled at that, "Uh-huh, Like what?"
"When they take me out of here, I will go to court and from there I will most likely be executed. This is much more dangerous and risky but—"
Your eyes widen, "Then you want me to save you?"
"Oui. You need a good plan and be cautious. And… you need to kill. I'm really sorry for forcing you something like this. But, I'm telling you this again, you don't have to."
You frowned but it quickly turned into a glare, "I will do it." You get up on your feet as he glances up at you. You smiled warmly at him.
"Wait for me."
"I will. Be careful."
You smiled with a new found hope and quickly got back to your bag, gathered your things and opened the door. You paused and glanced back at him. He pressed his hands on the wall with a smile, he shiled his hands around his mouth, huffed on the glass making a steam and drew a heart on it. You couldn't help but smile at that. You wave at him and carried the guards back and press them on the door along with their guns as if they fall asleep and quickly rush out of the corridor. Before you got out of the court you glanced back.
"I'll save you I promise."
#bullfrog x reader#bullfrog#captain lazerhawk spoilers#captain lazerhawk#reader#x reader#allenwrites#so sorry that I have to cut this part in half
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Mafia AU: Stray Kids -
Chapter 1: Rough Start
Word Count: 918
Mdni contains swear words and some suggestive themes
Synopsis: um...so basically girlie is in the streets because her mans was clapping another girls' cheeks when she came back home and there is a flashback moment and stuff and then she runs into Hyunjin, who is a tatted-up BEEFCAKE (oh yeah and he's part of the Stray Kids' mafia🤭)
You were running from people, a vendor you had stolen food from as a desperate attempt to survive, you hadn't eaten since you left your apartment, which was weeks ago. Now here you were, feeding on scraps and stealing food just to keep your body distracted from the sickness that was fogging your mind. Your body might've been occupied, but your brain kept playing that scene in your head like a broken record.
You held on to the rickety metal pole that passed as railing on the concrete stairs to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, 143-District 9. It reeked of tobacco, but an unfamiliar sound filled your ears 'It's just the neighbors, fucking, again' you rolled your eyes at the noise, reassuring yourself that your boyfriend would never cheat on you. But as you unlocked the door, that noise became louder, and that's when the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.
You walked right up to the bed and they were still at it! “What the hell?!” you screamed and pulled the girl off of your now ex-boyfriend. “Get OUT!!!,” the girl scampered to get her clothes and reached for her purse, when suddenly you had a thought, it was your apartment after all.
“How about I show you to the door instead!” you dragged her by the hair, and opened the door, throwing her naked form out into the hall for anyone who was out to see. Your boyfriend was petrified the whole time, knowing what was coming for him as well. “Ah, you know what, I’m leaving you here to pay rent with whatever you can scrounge out of my safe, but this?,” you dangle the necklace he had gifted to you only a week ago as an anniversary present in between your slim fingers,”I’m keeping it.” he scrambled after you, blubbering and screeching about all the good times the two of you had together.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
You were running from people, a vendor you had stolen food from as a desperate attempt to get something to eat. You hadn't eaten since you left your apartment, which was days ago. Now here you were, feeding on scraps and stealing food just to keep your body distracted from the negative thoughts fogging your mind. Your body might've been occupied, but your brain kept playing that sequence of events in your head like a broken record. You turn sharply into an alley, bumping roughly into what feels like a wall.
Except, it’s not a wall, it’s a person, a man who couldn’t be much older than you. But, there was something about him, it was dangerous yet alluring. He had a fuck ton of tattoos; you also took note of the fact that he was armed with a pistol and a switchblade. He had shoulder length dark black-red hair. "Sorry”, you whisper, he gave you a once-over, then muttered “Not a problem", glancing at the pendant you wore added "Princess”.
You were about to protest but his dangerous gaze shut you up. His scent made you want to attempt to swim in black licorice and Axe body spray...even though you hated licorice, (Twizzlers are the exception) and drown in it. The scent was so intoxicating that it actually pulled a response out of you. “mMmn” was all that came out of your mouth, thank the gods! “MMmn~?” he exclaimed questioningly “Oh! Um, I was just uh…” You walk backwards out of the alley without another word and come across a park bench. You take a seat and suddenly remeber the food you had. You eat some now and save the rest for breakfast. You stash the food under the bench, making sure there's no bird dooky or spider webs before placing it in a dark corner and covering yourself with your jacket you had on.
You drift to sleep, thinking about the guy with the yummy scent and tatoos. A few hours later you hear several pairs of footsteps. You freeze, unable to determine if it's some mugger or a serial killing gang. What if it's a cult that has wierd colored contacts, so whenever they give you the bombastic side eye you lose your shit, not because of them but because of those damned lenses, seriously though, whose supplying people with those? Next thing you know, you feel a tight sensation in your leg, but before you can react you body goes limp as you slip into black inky unknown.
(Like and follow for more!)
Hello! this is a collab series with @qwqqmfh! Please note that this is just the first chapter and that more content will be on the way soon! Faith will be making all of the images at the heading of every chapter in this series, so a big shoutout to her!
Tag list is OPEN!:
@calumpartridge1996 @flyawaybird444
@vulgarmaw
@ka0ila
@yoshida-chiyo
@mikasaackerman728
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@hyunlixwife
@hey-i-really-miss-you
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#stray kids#jyp stray kids#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#bang chan#hyunjin#han jisung#hwang hyunjin#changbin#skz mafia au#9th member of skz#9th member of stray kids#fic preview#my fanfic#fanfiction#fan fic#skz x reader#stray kids x you#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz scenarios#collab fic#qwqqmfh#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x reader#seungmin#jeongin#lee know
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