#anyway point is no shame and i’m not taking this seriously | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blasphemecel · 4 months

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Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Dog Walking

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 3.2k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting (it's so bad I don't know if i can call it flirting in good faith), Bad matchmaking (there was an attempt), Rivalry WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, canon-typical behavior EDIT: This got a continuation, yay. And an add-on

Kaiser got it in his head that he has taken a liking to you. This is great and all, not like Ness is gritting his teeth and clenching his fists and getting angry or anything, but- okay, he is.

An obvious reason for his displeasure would be jealousy, but that’s not quite it. Ness thinks it would be entitled and insolent of him to feel any type of way about Kaiser’s personal affairs, so he hasn’t even entertained the notion. The problem is entirely different.

Just like everyone else in Blue Lock, you’re… Kaiser-opposed? Is that the right way to word it? Anyway, the point is, your shitty personality is making his job really hard. Which leads the three of you to this current situation.

“Ow! Ness, what the hell is your problem?!” you shriek, after having tripped and fell. The only reason your face isn’t attached to the floor fight now is because you softened the blow with your elbow.

“I didn’t mean it- I’m so sorry!”

“You didn’t mean it? You literally did it on purpose.”

This isn’t how it should’ve played out, though.

You were supposed to fall right into Kaiser’s arms, but you landed about a step away from him. They even practiced this routine with the others! Granted, no one agreed to it and was rather subjected to it whenever in Ness and Kaiser’s general vicinity, and, no, it didn’t work all the time, but they were just getting the hang of it. (Thankfully, no one sustained any serious injuries, apart from bearing some mental scars after hearing Kaiser say ‘Don’t go falling for me now’ in a wannabe suave tone.)

“Yeah, Ness, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaiser adds, before moving to crouch down and help you with a smidge of concern in his expression.

Ness’s eyes widen at the betrayal. Kaiser is such a fake bitch sometimes. Not like he’s going to do anything about it, or even that he minds, but seriously? No shame or decorum is on display here.

You don’t buy it, slapping his hands away. “I bet you put him up to it,” you say, before standing up all by yourself. Then you twist your leg around back and forth for a bit, as if to check how well it’s working, before you eventually lift it high up in the air. “Listen, you tie-dyed toerags.”

Ness flinches because what kind of way to address someone is this? Kaiser crosses his arms, shiteating grin receding into a little frown.

“I’m at my most divine when scoring a goal. You see this?” Your foot is now hovering near their faces while you stretch. This… What is it? A flex? A display? Whatever it is that you’re doing right now, Ness finds it unnerving. “It’s what I use to score. If you did something to take that ability away from me, you’d get pretty bad karma, you know? Angels would cry. Believe me.”

Ness tugs on Kaiser’s sleeve — to remind him he’s supposed to respond instead of just stare at you with a blank, creepy look on his face — and, as filler, says, “You’re very, um, flexible.”

“Yeah,” you say, moving into an even more convoluted position. “I have many attractive qualities. Deserving of being a superstar ace, you know? Dump Kaiser. Pass to me. You’re way too good to play second fiddle, Ness. With me, you won’t be stuck in a Tweedlecum and Tweedlepee dynamic.”

“What?! You- you- you, you, you, yooooou-?! What are you talking about?! I’d never betray him! I’m not joining your circus, clown! Unbelievable! Learn your place already. You never learn,” Ness says in a jumble. For some reason, he’s more offended than Kaiser is.

Here’s the thing about you — you’re insane. A has-an-interesting-psychological-file type of crazy. A hollow-inner-world type of crazy.

A Ness-loves-it type of crazy, as objectionable as he is acting to your offer.

“Calm down. No need to get your panties in a twist over some shitty trash talk,” says Kaiser, placing his hand on Ness’s head, forcing him to lower himself in a slight bow in front of you. Finally, you quit your bizarre movements and assume a more proper stance, while Kaiser leans in closer to you, shifting his gaze in your direction. This leaves Ness to watch you two engage in a round of charged glaring… again. Which is always compromising, but then Kaiser has to run his fingers through his hair, too. “You’re just like a chihuahua that hasn’t warmed up to its owner yet. Your barking doesn’t faze me.”

Your eye twitches at the analogy, face scrunching in an ugly way. “The hell did you just say to me? If I catch you somewhere Ego can’t see me, I’ll give you the beating of a lifetime.”

Instead of responding in a normal way, Kaiser points his finger in your face, almost poking you, twirls it around in a circle, which makes you furrow your brows even harder if possible as you scrutinize him like he’s a lower life form.

“See? Doesn’t bite. Totally harmless,” Kaiser says with a lilt of amusement. Then he swings an arm around Ness’s shoulders and turns him around before pulling him along so they can get away from you.

His tone is convincing enough to give off the impression of winning this verbal spat. However, Ness can’t help but notice that they’re speed walking.

___

When Ness turns around, you’re leaning on the bench with your foot, elbow resting on your knee. He lets out an undignified scream, taking a step back, startled, and even drops his water bottle. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! How come you didn’t make a noise? What are you?”

Kaiser regards the commotion with not even a sliver of curiosity and instead grins after nodding at you in greeting. “Look who came crawling back searching for my company, Ness.”

“I was thinking about that stuff you told me yesterday,” you say.

“Really? And what thrilling conclusion did you come to?” he asks, with sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘thrilling.’

“I’m going to spend my points from goals on taking a day off. Come along with me and we’re gonna fight, preferably in front of a big audience that can watch me humiliate you. By the way, it's a duel, so you can’t decline.”

“Wow, you’re asking me out on a date? Since when are you so adorable? I guess I just can’t reject you when you’re being vulnerable.”

“No one likes delusional men, Kaiser. I’d rather embalm myself and then desecrate my own corpse.”

Kaiser appears to find this amusing or in some way adjacent to flirting because his smile becomes a touch more irritating, but also a bit incredulous. “Crazy fucking bastard. You’ve got unique ways of pretending you’re not into me, though. It’s entertaining.”

“Your mouth is like a dirty urinal. You swear like a preteen who just found out what sixty-nine means, worry about that.”

Kaiser stares at you in shock, jaw hanging slightly open. In your head, you consider this a huge win, since it’s the first time you’ve visibly put him off.

“Keep gaping at me, I might just take a piss.”

“H-How dare you?!” Ness lunges at you, and the only thing to stop him from strangling you on live television — sensational, you like it — is the fact that Kaiser is holding him back by the collar. You find the sight of him swiping his fists in the air vaguely adorable. “How can you say these things? Just in general, let alone to Kaiser?”

You observe him in mild surprise for a second and the sincerity in your expression makes it all the more infuriating when you ask, “Oh, you’re still here?”

___

For once in his life, Ness is being very assertive. At least that’s what you think while he drags you over to their side of the cafeteria, fingers curling tight enough around your wrist to probably disturb your blood circulation.

Kaiser pulls out a chair for you when you come into view, then Ness shoves you so you’re sitting, and Kaiser pushes it back in, causing you to almost double over the table. Ness slides over some kind of fancy meal you can’t even identify in front of you. Kaiser leans down, his hair brushing against you, and then he reaches around your shoulder to aggressively stab one of the slices with a fork. With a perhaps demented smile, he declares, “We’re going to talk about strategy today,” before taking the seat next to yours.

“We’re not going to talk about strategy because I’m not one of your groupies,” you say, picking up on the conversation with ease.

Ness plops down on your other side, apparently having decided he has enough authority to lecture you. “No, no, no! This isn’t working. Isagi does whatever he wants, Kunigami does whatever he wants, you do whatever you want. It’s pure chaos on the field! No synergy! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Join us. If you’re not following,” Kaiser adds, his arm finally receding away from you, “this is a compliment. You’re the one best suited for me, which is a big honor.”

“I have a way better idea. How about I continue doing whatever I want, and by the end of this Neo Egotist League ordeal, you two and everyone else you mentioned sing my name in a choir?”

“Ungrateful,” Ness mutters, petulant.

Kaiser grins, mocking, but also intrigued. “Are you still hanging onto the high of that goal against Barcha? Your ego is unhinged and, honestly, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your type is always the most fun to break.”

Like he’s any different?

The score you landed, though — the one Kaiser is referencing — was what sparked his interest. You jumped in and stole the pass Isagi meant for Kunigami, securing the point right under their noses. Then, you faced Kaiser and took him by the chin like he’d done to Isagi on arrival, and even imitated his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München,” with inconceivable amounts of smugness.

It was… interesting. Outlandish. A first. Ness berated you and Isagi together, but you kind of walked away in the middle of it without a care.

Here’s the other detail which is keeping Ness’s sanity intact (not like he’s renowned for his mental stability, but): Kaiser taking a liking to you isn’t necessarily a good thing, even if he’s treating you differently than the other competitors. It doesn’t say anything positive about your character, isn’t in any way sentimental — it’s more as if someone held up a mirror in front of him and he began obsessing over his reflection.

“I’m big and you’re small. That’s why you can’t tame me,” you say.

“He’s taller than you!” Ness defends.

“Did the voices in your head tell you that?” Kaiser asks you, and he does not acknowledge Ness’s meager attempt to upkeep his honor.

“I mean it. You think you can brute force everything and bend it to your version of reality. That’s fragile. I don’t mind falling from a high place. It kind of appeals to me, actually, you know, crawling back up, but more beautiful.”

The corners of his lips turn up in a manner you interpret as more baleful than usual. “I don’t know if you’re big or if I’m small or whatever you wanna call it, but what I know for sure is that you’re a melodramatic jerk off.”

“Anyway,” you stand up, taking the plate as you do so, “you don’t think often, so I won’t blame you for calling my internal monologue a hallucination. You can’t help it. Bye.”

___

The locker room is an environment you find ripe for picking fights in. Especially when everyone is tired after a practice match. At least the place is free of anyone besides your usual targets.

“Ness,” you say upon approaching them — they’re always together, it almost seems codependent — and then take a hold of his hand, all beguiling. Kaiser scoffs, apparently not interested in getting into it with you this once, while Ness stares at you doe-eyed. “I think it’s about time you get some dignity.”

“What kind of opening line is that?!” he asks, expression shifting from bashful to irritated.

“He’s just been even more awful to you lately and you’re still attached to his asshole like you’re a part of the human centipede.”

“You made fun of me for swearing, but look at the shit you’re saying right now.”

“I do it sparingly and with style. Please stop trying to compete where you don’t compare.” After a dismissive glance towards Kaiser, you turn your attention back to Ness, letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around his waist. “Anyway, the point is, he’s not acting very appreciative of your talent. I could treat you so much better if you passed to me. We don’t even need to entirely exclude him or anything, I’m a tolerant person.”

“I can see and appreciate Ness’s talent just fine. He’ll stay by my side no matter what.” Ness blushes because that’s kind of an intense statement to make out of nowhere? Kaiser’s fingers curl around his jawline before he pushes Ness’s head into his shoulder. “And I’m going to add you to the roster while I’m at it.”

What the fuck is even going on? Maybe the delusions of grandeur you and Kaiser seem to suffer from are becoming contagious, but it sounds like you two are fighting… over HIM? A more well-adjusted person would probably find this objectifying or otherwise demeaning, but Ness, mostly because of who he is — terminally unwanted — wonders if he’s in heaven right now.

Then again, Ness isn’t an idiot. His ignorance is willful. There’s a cap to the nonsense even he is willing to tolerate. So he lets this feeling of I’ve-never-been-happier linger for a little, your bickering fading into background noise, before he squirms away from both of you.

“I’m tired of how you guys are acting,” he calls over his shoulder.

Kaiser is gawking again. You let out an amused whistle, as if you find this development pleasing, before forcing Kaiser’s jaw closed.

“Don’t talk to me… for the rest of the day,” Ness continues, before leaving. His resolve ends on a weak note, but oh well.

“What the hell? Did Ness just reject me?” Kaiser asks, slapping off your pesky hand. “First you don’t want me, now even Ness doesn’t want me. I’m sick of this wretched place. Everything is all out of whack here.”

You burst out laughing. “Are your sensitive little feelings unable to handle a few hours without him?”

“Shut up,” says Kaiser. There isn’t enough bite in it.

“I can tell whatever tantrum you’re about to have is gonna give me secondhand embarrassment, so I’m gonna go as well.”

You’re not prepared for Kaiser to slam you into the locker and cage you in with his arms. Some vein you don’t know the name of looks very pronounced on his forehead, and you don’t think it’s supposed to be doing that?

You roll your eyes. “Take the hint, your machismo shtick isn’t doing it for me.”

“I’m not trying to make a move on you, shithead. I’m sick of your outrageous attitude as well. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re always leaving in the middle of conversations, even ones you initiated. Do you know how rude that is? No one ever taught you some fucking manners? What’s your home life like?”

Ignoring whatever he’s even talking about — it’s going in one ear and out of the other as usual — you trail your hands over his shoulders.

“Stop trying to distract me. I’m listing out all of your personality defects.” He’s not really putting up a fight, though, doesn’t even shrug you off when you move onto caressing his neck. “We’re arguing,” Kaiser says, before leaning in to complete the kiss you were trying to pull him into, and finally his hands drop to rest on your waist.

The contact doesn’t last long, since you take the chance to side step him and swap your positions, before you push him into the locker like he’d done to you.

“Little bitch,” you say with a sneer, and then you dash towards the exit, offering a flippant wave. “I leave whenever I want to.”

What the hell!

___

“You’re unforgivable!” says Ness. What did you even do to deserve this attitude right before breakfast? “Stop messing with Kaiser’s head!”

Oh yeah, you did do that. You almost forgot.

“Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”

Ness crosses his arms and taps his foot. He’s not very good at being intimidating, at least in a visual sense, you think. He has a total babyface. “You’re going to apologize. You’re gonna grovel for Kaiser’s forgiveness.”

“Sure, I take hurt feelings very seriously. Answer these questions for me, so I can apologize better later. Which ear were the words of hurtfulness spoken into? Is the damage he suffered permanent? Did he require a tissue for his tears?”

“I- I- I- I?!?! You piss me off so much. I don’t have the patience for this.” Ness pinches the bridge of his nose as if he needs to soothe himself after exchanging a couple of sentences with you.

“If he doesn’t have a mommy to hug him,” you continue without much of an inflection, “we can look for a surrogate.”

With uncharacteristic vice, he squeezes your shoulders, and he’s gritting his teeth, and you think he really might kill you. Maybe not right now, but at some point, this man is going to take your life. “What’s your problem? You’re a nobody, so why are you so high maintenance? Kaiser is rich, handsome, successful, and a football genius. What more could you possibly want in a boyfriend?”

“Wow,” you say, astonishment at something indeterminate apparent on your face.

Ness waits for you to elaborate, but you don’t, instead opting to scrutinize him in silence. “What? Don’t just say wow and then leave it at that. How can someone be so difficult?”

Your expression shifts into something meaner, then, a mocking raise of your eyebrows, a lop-sided but meaningless smile. “It’s just kind of amazing. You can’t help but ride Kaiser’s dick even while trying to guide it inside of me.”

“Wh-huh… What?!” Ness screeches, scandalized. “How… How crude? You're a vulgar moron! Totally indecent! That’s what you are!”

“I mean, can you blame me for being jealous of that kind of attention? You can do crazy tricks on it.”

“Why are you saying those kinds of things to me?! S-Something’s not right with you.”

You reach out and squish Ness’s cheeks together, leaving his lips to pucker, and you can feel his skin burning. “You’re an amusing guy, Ness. I haven’t decided if I find you pathetic or endearing yet, but I like it.” Then you let go of him as casually as you grabbed him, intending to continue on your merry way.

There are footsteps hurrying after you. “Admit your love to Kaiser already.”

Love? A frightening laugh rattles you. Your body jerks upright and you feel like an evil spirit was just exorcised out of you with how unexpected your reaction was, even to you.

“I know you can’t resist his charms. No one can.”

Kaiser’s… charms? You knew it, he’s trying to kill you.

“And- and- and!!! You’re going to play on our side against Ubers, and you’re going to like it.”

You’re borderline in hysterics now, stomach hurting.

“Stop walking away from me! Are you even listening? You should really listen when people talk to you!”

___

Im still loopy so presented without comment. Feel free to tell me wat you thikn the worst line from this abomination is

#michael kaiser x reader #alexis ness x reader #kaiser x reader #ness x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader

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swordcreature · 6 months

Note

Rolan deserves to get pegged. Someone needs to come fuck the brat out of him.

i will take this sacrifice for us all. i will fuck the brat completely out of Rolan. you are all welcome!

but in all seriousness. i had so much fun writing this. i know this wasn't a request per se but 3,000 words later and here we are. our boy just really needed someone to fuck him with the magical strap (that we are all going to pretend is a very real thing that exists in his world. along with the magical bottle of oil/lube).

it doesn't really work anyway

i couldn't think what to name this monster so excuse the stupid title, it fits into like on tiny part but it made me laugh so. yeah.

Now I Know My ABCs

Rolan x Reader

“You could have just fixed it, you know? You don’t have to be an insufferable prick about every little mistake you notice.” “Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, I wouldn’t have anything to comment on.”

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content MDNI/18+, Pegging, Anal Fingering

Word Count: 3,028 | [Read on AO3]

Okay, so, in hindsight, calling Rolan “the biggest fucking brat to ever grace the mortal realm” probably wasn’t your finest move. But gods if it wasn’t completely fucking accurate.

All day he was wondering around the tower, nit picking the work you so graciously volunteered as you both tried to organize the mess Lorroakan left behind after his completely deserved demise.

“Oh, this is interesting come look at this,” Rolan ushered you over to the shelf you had been working on before lunch. You walked over, brow furrowed as you looked at the tomes he pointed to: a copy of Illusionary Arcana: A Complete Study and Illusion: A Spellcaster’s Guide to the Unreal. “I had no idea the Common language had changed recently, did you?”

“Here we fucking go.”

“Surely that must have been the case, otherwise this book would have been placed before Illusionary Arcana, yes?” You wanted to smack the disingenuous look of confusion off his smug face.

“You could have just fixed it, you know? You don’t have to be an insufferable prick about every little mistake you notice.” You flipped the position of the books.

“Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, I wouldn’t have anything to comment on,” he offered back, facing the books with a matter-of-fact expression as though they were discussing breakfast plans or the weather.

“Maybe, you should find someone else who is willing to put up with your contemptible drivel so-”

“I’m surprised someone who does not know their alphabet knows what contemptible means.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides and your nostrils flared. You were doing this for free. It would be a cold day in the Hells before you continued to let him talk to you like that.

Without saying a word, you turned scanning the room for where you laid your things. This caught Rolan’s attention; he eyed you over his shoulder as he continued to fiddle with the row of books.

“What are you doing?” he asked, unphased.

“Leaving.” This at least elicited some sort of reaction, his head whipping around to watch you grab your things.

“Why? You said you would assist me. And we still have two more cases to go today if we are to remain on track.” His face scrunched in frustration. He couldn’t honestly expect you to just continue on as though he hadn’t just acted like a complete son of a bitch, right?

“Are you serious- ‘Why?’ Because Rolan, today you have been-” well, you know what came next. He didn’t take it lightly.

“I- you- you insolent little witch! I’d rather be a brat than being a classless degenerate like you!” He took an angry step towards you.

“Classless? You arrogant, pretentious arsehole!”

“Indolent, mindless fool!” Then another.

“Hateful wretch!”

“Talentless hack!” He was so close now that you could feel his breath on your face as he stared down the length of his nose at you. It was a shame he was such a knob head, because he was so nice to look at, even from this angle.

“You-” you paused, trying to think of the most poetic way to tell him that he could take every book in his big fancy tower and shove it right up his ass.

But something else came to mind.

With a scowl, you sank your hands into the front of his robes and yanked him downward, forcing his lips against your own. Much to your surprise, and delight if you wanted to be completely honest, he relented, allowing himself to be kissed with an almost bruising intensity.

You tore your lips away. The look on Rolan’s face at the loss of contact would have made you laugh if you weren’t so fucking fed up with him. His chest was heaving as though he had just ran a mile around the tower, and the way your stomach twisted at the sight made you even more frustrated. Stupid wizard with his handsome face and pretty lips.

You pushed him back against the nearest bookcase, hard enough that a book tumbled from its home high above you. Rolan’s eyes were fire and hunger as he glared at you, silently urging you to continue what you started. You pressed yourself flush to his chest, noses touching, lips barely a hair apart.

He craned his neck lower to try and catch you in a kiss, but you were quicker, fueled by an intense need to see this man squirm.

“Now now, Rolan. Where are your manners?” You chastised with a click of your tongue. “Say please.”

He swallowed thickly and grit his teeth. The room fell silent as seconds ticked by, Rolan seemingly weighing his words.

Just as you thought he was going to end whatever this was, too proud to continue, he muttered out, almost unintelligibly, “Please.”

You smiled sweetly, and then you were slotting your mouth over his, kissing with as much force as before. Your hand snaked into his hair, dragging your nails roughly against his scalp, tugging at the roots. The sound he made in response was nothing short of a growl. Oh did it spur you on.

Your free hand squeezed between your bodies to palm over the erection pinned against his thigh. Even under his robes and trousers you could tell he was hot, long, and so very hard. You pet his cock with a firm touch through several layers of clothes, Rolan forcing his hips forward in response.

After a few tentative strokes, you removed your hand completely – pulling yourself backwards slightly so that he had nothing to grind himself against. He whined in frustration.

“Mmm, I don’t think you deserve that yet, do you?” You pressed your lips to his ear, your tongue slipping out to follow the outer shell. Rolan shivered. “You’ve been a little brat today, Rolan. I don’t think you deserve to be touched yet.”

For the first time since you met him, Rolan had nothing to say. His head hung low, almost hitting your shoulder as he clenched his jaw.

“You think you’re so clever, with that sharp tongue. But I'm going to make you forget how to speak, pretty little wizard.” His breath hitched, stopped dead in his throat. “Only if you’re good, though. Okay?” Rolan nodded eagerly, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “Okay. Now, go be a dear and take your clothes off for me, hmm?”

Rolan fumbled forward as you stepped away from the bookcase. His hands shook as he undressed, clumsily unlacing his trousers to slide them off, along with his underclothes. You walked over to sit on the edge of his desk and watched as he pulled his robes from his shoulders. He murmured something to himself that you couldn’t quite discern, but you didn’t care enough to push. Because with everything discarded to the floor, Rolan stood completely bare, cock jutting upwards from a dark swatch of hair on his groin. It was already leaking with excitement.

He looked up to find you staring, leering at his lithe form in appreciation. It must have been written on your face because the bastard’s lips quirked up in a smug grin. That wouldn’t do. You needed to wipe that smirk off of his face.

You hopped off the desk’s edge and pointed towards it. Rolan eyed you with suspicion but acquiesced, moving so that he stood between you and it. Raising a hand to your mouth, you spit into your palm, eyes fixed on his. Your hand found his erection, spreading your saliva down his length in one motion.

Rolan’s chest heaved with a moan, thrusting into your hand for more. He knew as soon as it happened that he had made a mistake; you removed your hand from him and gave him a pointed look.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’ll be still, I promise.”

You had to bite back a smile as how desperate he sounded from just a few touches. But an apology did sound good on his lips. So, you began stroking him again, fisting over his shaft with a tight grip. Rolan’s thighs shook with the exertion needed to keep himself still and little whimpers left his mouth with every pass of your hand.

And then you stop, completely removing your hand from him. Before he could even make a sound in protest, though, you grabbed his hips and spun him in place so that his rear was pressed to your front. One hand smoothed its way up his spine, settling between his shoulder blades. And with a firm shove, you urged him to bend so that his chest lay on the cool wood of the desk.

Your free hand circled his ass, caressing the smooth, plump skin. A sharp thwack echoed through the room as your hand lifted and then connected with his rear. Rolan yelped, jolting forward slightly, but didn’t complain – in fact you were almost positive his hips canted against the desk in a desperate grind for friction. You repeated the action again, bringing your hand down to smack him with enough force to leave a darkened handprint. Rolan’s moan was high pitched and needy as he braced himself for another smack that didn’t come.

Both hands now groped at his cheeks spreading him so that you could see all of him – every last inch of his red skin heated in desire as he keened below you. Leaning forward, you reached around to press two fingers to his lips and Rolan accepted them greedily. His hot tongue laved over your digits, coating them in his saliva. You pulled them out with a pop to tease at his hole, the wetness of his spit making him slick enough to dip a finger in to the second knuckle.

Gods he looked so good taking you, back arched to offer himself more fully, desperate whines slipping from his lips. You worked your finger in and out as he rocked his hips against the desk. For a moment you thought about stopping – chastising him for seeking his pleasure without your permission. But you most certainly did not have the willpower to do so as you watched him take your finger down to the last knuckle. You were only mortal after all.

“Think you can take another?” you asked, tone sultry and low, though your question was sincere; you wanted to make sure you weren’t overstepping. He responded with an eager, shaky nod and a soft gasp.

Mumbling a spell under your breath, a small vial of oil appeared in your palm out of thin air. You uncorked it with your teeth and, with a very disappointed whine from Rolan, removed yourself from inside him to slather some of the liquid over your fingers.

The noise he made when you returned them to prod at his hole was nothing short of debauched – for a moment you thought he may cum right there. But he took the added stretch in stride, panting as you began to set a rhythm.

You were satisfied with your work, the man beneath you squirming and gasping and not saying a godsdamned word.

That is, until he turned his head to the side, peering at you from the corner of his eye to beg, “More.”

That wouldn’t do. He was still able to form a coherent thought and that just wasn’t going to work for you.

You slipped both fingers from his ass in one quick motion. Rolan, although quivering and breathless, looked as though he was going to object, to say something that surely would make your blood pressure rise. Your free hand tangled into his hair to force his head back down to the desk.

“Not a word, or else I’ll leave right now,” you hissed. You had never seen Rolan behave so easily, relaxing back against the wood as he waited for you to make the next move.

Another muted spell left your lips, the room slightly tinged with the crackle of your magic. The summoned object was heavier than you anticipated, but oh did that make it even more exciting. Commanding Rolan to keep his head down, you stepped into the harness of the conjured strap-on and pulled it up to fasten around your groin snuggly. You spilled the rest of the oil bottle over the thick base of the strap and spread it around with a loose fist.

Rolan wiggled with impatience, still obeying your orders to keep down and not look. So, without further delay, you notched the tip against him then slid the length over his entrance. His body tensed with understanding as he rocked against you ardently, his tail wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

You teased his rim with the head of your strap, providing just enough pressure to have him writhing for more but not enough to actually enter him. He groaned in frustration as he tried desperately to force himself back to satisfy his need for more.

“Oh? Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you Master Rolan?” His moan was high and keen – more pathetic than you had ever heard him before. It was music to your ears. “I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” The tip of your strap pushed into him ever so slightly more, enough to spread his entrance in preparation. Dangerously close to where he wanted you most but still so very far away.

“Mmf- ye- ah- yes!” It seemed forming words was proving to be especially difficult for the erudite wizard. Perfect.

And then you gave in; your hands gripped his hips as you slid the thick length of the strap into him slowly. Rolan’s head hung low, forehead pressed to the cool wood of the desk. He sighed in relief, finally feeling the fullness he craved.

With an iron grip, you held his hips still, slowly pulling out of him. Then, without warning, you thrusted forward to sheath the strap’s entire length inside him with perhaps maybe a touch too much vigor. Rolan jolted forward by the force of it, gasping as he adjusted. You repeated the movement again. And again. And again.

Soon, you had set a punishing pace, clothed hips smacking the back of his bare thighs as you drove as deep as he could take you. Every thrust had Rolan whimpering, words dying on his tongue before they were fully formed. It didn’t take long to find that perfect spot that had him stuffing his fist in his mouth to muffle his shouts. Oh you liked that spot.

You weren’t gentle, overcome by an intense need to fuck him until every bratty thought was emptied from his mind through his cock. You raised your hand to roughly slap his ass where your handprint had formed from before. Rolan cried out as the pleasure of you inside him mixed with the pain from your hand.

“I’m- ah. So-” Every syllable was cut off by a garbled sound as though he couldn’t figure out if he wanted to scream or laugh or cry. The only thing he seemed to know was that he wanted more. “Fu- yes there right there-”

You stopped with the strap buried completely inside him. Rolan nearly screamed, the sudden lack of motion bringing tears to his eyes. He craned his neck to look at you; he was absolutely furious. You leaned over so that you could press your lips to his ear.

“Now. Did you want to say something about how you spoke to me earlier?” Your hips caged his, keeping him from seeking his own pleasure.

“Fuck y-” You began to pull out. “No no no, sorry- I'm sorry, I apologize. Whatever you want to hear I’ll say it.”

While you weren’t exactly pleased that he had the mental wherewithal to form a complete sentence, you certainly preened at his desperation. “Is that it?” You pulled out even further.

“Fuck! I was a stupid fucking brat, I’m sorry! Okay? Is that what you wanted? Will you please just-”

He didn’t get the chance to finish as you thrusted forward as quickly as possible, immediately establishing a pace faster than before. Rolan’s legs shook as though they were ready to give out and you thought for a moment they might if not for the desk under him.

It only took a couple deep thrusts against his most sensitive spot before he came. His orgasm was a rough avalanche of pleasure; his hips ground against the wood beneath him as his whole body seemed to tremble at the almost violent intensity of his release. You couldn’t quite understand what he was saying – or more like chanting – repeating the garbled word over and over again like he was trying to memorize the sound.

You realized with pride that it was your name, almost unrecognizable through the fist he still bit down on.

Your hand ghosted over the red mark on his ass – your own apology for perhaps being too rough. The conjured strap on disappeared as soon as you removed it from him, leaving behind the faint feeling of the Weave.

Hushed sounds from the shop below you started to filter into the room, and you realized that somewhere along the way Rolan had cast a modified form of silence. The cheeky bastard. You’d definitely remember that for next time.

It took him longer than he would ever admit to finally stand up, legs still unsteady and wobbly. Both the desk and his stomach were painted white with cum, and you had to admit, it was quite the sight. You brought a finger dangerously close to where his cock stood, still softening, and whisked a drop of his spend from his skin. Rolan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as you took the finger into your mouth to taste him.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke, “You truly are a degenerate.” Despite his words, he was smiling.

“And here I thought you were done being a brat?”

“Well, maybe perhaps your little lesson didn’t have the intended effect, hm?”

You eyed the mess on his desk with a smug smile. “Oh, I think it worked out just as intended.”

#bg3 #bg3 smut #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader #my writing #requests/suggestions #lemonandhoneytea

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

okay but reader edging eddie until he’s basically in tears begging?? i know you’ll do it perfectly i’m on my knees asking for it

author’s note: EDGING!!! it’s literally my biggest weakness and i know eddie loves that shit, you can’t change my mind. i hope this isn’t too terrible lol

cw: 18+ (minors dni), orgasm denial/delay (edging), oral (f receiving), handjobs, desperate and begging eddie, dry humping (sort of), eddie kink shaming himself out of embarrassment (reader is super reassuring), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.2k

“Have you really never—“ Eddie stares at you with a skeptical look, “Shit, am I actually that weird?”

The absurdity of the question makes you laugh, wondering why Eddie felt the need to psychoanalyze his own kinks and preferences all the sudden, both of you bare naked and pressed against one another. If there was any other time to talk about, now was definitely not it. But, Eddie was stuck on it and it wasn’t going to end until he reached his conclusion.

“I haven’t, not to myself,” You explain carefully, finger pointing at your chest, “—I mean, I haven’t to anyone else either, to be clear. But, I know what it is. It’s not weird.”

“You think so?” Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly as he squeezed at your waist.

“It’s just delaying orgasm.” You laugh softly, the idea creeping up on you suddenly, “Do you—do you want me to try it with you?”

Eddie nods eagerly, hair bouncing over his shoulders, “I guess it’s not different than when we watch each other anyways—“

“Oh, no,” You interrupt, hoping to clarify, “I meant me edging you.”

“Huh,” Eddie huffs, eyes widening slightly, piercing into you deeply—Eddie was always so remarkably expressive, both in his face and his actions, “uh, yeah—yeah we can do that.”

Eddie’s adamant about taking care of you first, insisting he would take his time and he meant it. He’s soft, but sure in his touches, gentle traces of fingertips along the inside of thighs, over the soft pudge of your belly, using his grip to spread your thighs wide and breath in the smell of your arousal, mouthing at your cunt teasingly, featherlight licks through your folds until it’s nearly unbearable—it’s torture, but you wouldn’t expect anything else, not with the way Eddie cherished you so deeply. He was always afraid he was going to lose you—not that you could ever leave him, but he’s never managed to have any stability in his life outside of his uncle and had to deal with everyone always wanting to run in the opposite direction of wherever he was. He was a disease to the town of Hawkins, a constant stain on their otherwise perfect image, and you couldn’t believe it. Eddie was nothing that everyone said he was—vile, disgusting, rooted in evil.

The only thing Eddie had to offer was love—deep love, for everyone he cared about in his life, and it showed.

When he brings you to a slow orgasm, fingers drifting in his hair to pull at the strands in earnest, you cry out a broken moan as he overstimulates your already sensitive clit, before leaning away to press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, smiling against the skin.

Eddie moves slowly after that, crawling his way up toward his pillow until he can plop himself down on the mattress. You’re in the middle of pulling your underwear back up when he shifts, trying desperately to get comfortable. You smile to yourself, hurrying to finish pulling the garment back on before curling up against his side, his shoulder pressed into your chest and his head leaning heavily against the wall as he propped himself up slightly.

“You seem nervous.” You note, teasing him slightly.

“I just—I usually get kind of,” Eddie tries to find the right words to not sound so embarrassed, but he has to be truthful, “loud, I guess.”

“Eddie, baby,” You laugh softly, “that’s not a secret.”

Still, you can see his worry and try to soothe it.

“Don’t hold back, seriously.” You assure him, “I want this to be good for you—and I’ll stop if it gets too intense or you’re not into it anymore.”

Eddie nods slowly—he knew the playing field was level, there was never any type of power dynamic that needed to be fought between you two, it was equal give and take. A mutual assurance that both of you felt good and enjoyed yourselves as much as possible. Eddie was a better lover than he cared to admit.

“Do you still have that small bottle of lube?” You ask, breaking his stupor as he stared over at you. His face tenses for a moment in thought before he suddenly remembers, swinging his body over yours briefly to rummage in his bedside table until he finds the tiny bottle and tosses it into your hand wordlessly. “It’s just—the friction and all.”

“No, I get it.” Eddie laughs knowingly, having been on the wrong side of too many dry handies from himself in desperation, before he figured out what felt good, rather than just crudely trying to deal with the problem.

You do him the favor of warming it up in your hand briefly, his eyes watching intently as you move, rubbing it briefly with careful fingers before taking his already half-hard cock in your hands. It’s a simple touch, nothing to drive him crazy, but the wetness is slightly jarring and makes him wonder just how long he can hold off.

You’ve learned Eddie inside and out, all the small touches that drive him crazy, the little nuisances in the faces and noises he makes when he feels that pit in his stomach growing, pleasure settling deep in his groin and his balls tightening up as it nears, his face scrunching up in concentration. You save him the torture of being too agonizingly slow, squeezing him with a solid enough pressure that has him groaning out into the silence of the trailer, his upright positing faltering slightly as his head hits the pillow.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie sighs and if that’s any indication, you’re not sure how much longer he has left, “maybe—maybe a little less.”

You loosen your grip slightly, still keeping at the same steady pace as before and Eddie’s face relaxing, a subtle nod of appreciation as he shifts back up slightly, glancing up at you briefly before staring down at his cock, delicate fingers wrapped around the length of him. He should feel slightly offended that you’re so good at this, better than him even, but he can’t focus on any of that right now, your hand speeding up gradually as his hands grip for the sheets, his toned thighs tensing and struggling to keep still as his hips bucked into your hand out of pure instinct, not realizing he was even doing it until he feels that heat grow at the base of him and then you’re letting go of him completely, hand moving to rest gently against his thigh.

“Did I time it right?” You ask softly, squeezing gently where your hand rested.

Eddie nods dumbly, still fighting off the urge to come like this, untouched by you.

“Again?”

“Please?” Eddie begs, shifting to rest his palms behind him until he’s leaning up fully, head thrown back in an effort to not look at you or himself, knowing it would push him over that edge quickly.

His voice is soft when he speaks, pleading—it’s a contrast from his usual showy attitude and crass dirty talk, always finding ways to make you blush until your face runs hot, giving you no other choice but to close your eyes and look away, too overwhelmed by his heated gaze. But, it was his turn now and he was just as bad, only a lot more vocal about it.

Eddie alternates between deep, forceful groans when you squeeze just a little too much, to long, drawn out moans as you pull up his shaft, squeezing at the tip and letting your thumb rub over the slit there, spreading around the mess he’d already made of himself just from almost getting there, the slick of precome overtaking the need for any lube or spit. You keep at that for a few seconds—torturous and dreadful for Eddie, but enjoyable for you as you turn to look at him, his mouth hung open in a choked off gasp, eyes shut tight.

When he finally finds the energy to open his eyes, they immediately lock onto yours, and Eddie’s never looked more wrecked or shameful, eyes pleading for relief but you know he can take—it’s what he wants and he can always hit the brakes whenever he needs to, but you knew that wouldn’t happen.

“Tell me when.” You order him softly, squeezing gently at the base of his dick before starting a rough pace, nothing that Eddie’s prepared for as he groans loudly, the weight of him falling into you weakly, using what little concentration he had to pull your face toward him, his lips ghosting over your own, his breath breeching your own lips as he hissed, that initial feeling hitting him quickly.

“Fuck, stop—stop.” Eddie grunts out, pulling your hand away weakly, his dick twitching at the sudden lack of stimulation—his face is flusher than before, breath labored as tries to focus through the lingering ache, letting you lick slowly into his mouth, tongue tracing against his top lip teasingly.

It goes on for another fifteen minutes, slow and languid strokes to keep him teetering on the edge, enough that he can catch his breath and still talk through it, murmuring soft praises toward you despite how well he’s doing himself—he can’t help but compliment you, it’s like a second nature.

“God, so pretty—so fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart.” He says, voice strained. You smile with a hint of something, daring him to look away.

“I want you to watch,” You tell him, voice steady, “and no matter how bad you want to come, you’re gonna hold off.”

Eddie nods in understanding, letting you guide his face by the chin until he can look down, fingers wrapping around the length of him carefully, even a simple touch was enough to have him taking in a sharp intake of air.

You try not to feel bad about the whole thing, but Eddie thrashing and struggling to hold back beside you is enough to spur you even further into it, working him up the point of him not even making sense, groaning out unintelligible words as you keep up the same rhythm of tugging, waiting for him to give you that sign, and then letting him go completely.

Eddie’s never been so worked up in his entire life, on the verge of tears, mouth falling open in a broken sob.

“Oh fuck,” He curses, “Please, please, please—“

It’s the only thing his futile brain can come up with in the moment, begging and willing to do just about anything if it meant he could finally get some release.

“Are you calling it?” You ask with a soft laugh and despite the obvious welling of tears in his eyes, he laughs too.

Eddie nods furiously, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as his hips bucked up into your fist, “Yes—yes, please, I can’t—“

“Can’t take it?”

“It hurts,” Eddie whines, “Feels so fuckin’ good but I need to come, baby please—“

He can’t even form a full sentence, a mess of broken sobs and pleading words as he looks up at you with wide eyed innocence.

“I just—let me touch you?” Eddie begs, his hand reaching up to push your arm away with not much resistance on your end.

Eddie maneuvers you easily, hands tucked under your thighs as he switches positions, shifting until he’s laying over you and his aching cock pressed up against the soft cotton of your underwear, the only barrier keeping him from slipping inside and ending all his suffering. He doesn’t even think about that, rutting into you with a desperation you’ve never seen before, hands touching whatever he could find until they settle on your face, face pulled taut until he catches your eyes and he’s done for, collapsing and burying himself in the crook of your neck, making a mess of himself and you in the same instance, coming with a deep, drawn out groan. It’s so intense that it aches, even in the aftermath as he catches his breath, feeling like his stomach was in knots.

Eddie releases a long, shaky sigh against your skin, his hand coming down to rub tenderly at the line of your jaw.

“—Good?” You ask hopefully, not sure of his expectations in comparison with his own experiences. Eddie only catches the tail end of your question, until you finally speak again, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah—yeah, I’m fine.” Eddie assures you, his voice sounding unnaturally raw, “Gotta catch my breath, sorry.”

You give him a moment, rubbing your fingers through the soft ringlets of curls, pushing his bangs away from his forehead where they were stuck from sweat, his eyes shut in exhaustion. Eddie laughs suddenly, giddy despite his evident exhaustion.

“I’m a horrible person for enjoying that so much,” Eddie says, blush filling his face in embarrassment, “aren’t I?”

You shake your head gently, humming a quiet, “Mmm, no.”

Eddie doesn’t know why he feels so ashamed, but it’s never bothered you—his openness with his sexuality and the things he’s enjoyed—and you hate that he still feels constant shame about certain things.

“Besides, you sound so cute when you beg.” You tease, earning a nose scrunching face of disgust from Eddie at the word.

“Cute?” Eddie asks, “Not me, sweetheart. That’s impossible.”

You nod challengingly, leaning up into Eddie’s space as he pulls away slightly, grabbing his discarded shirt to clean up the mess, “Sorry, I meant adorable.”

Eddie doesn’t argue, but allows himself the final word.

“That’s right,” Eddie smiles, leaning over to press a quick kiss against your forehead, mumbling against the skin, “and don’t you forget it.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #1kfic

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m1ckeyb3rry · 29 days

Text

── PEREGRINE // TWO

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You and May hang out at the mall before going to dinner with Reo, Ryosuke, and Nagi.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.1k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: ok so i lowkey hate writing nagi atm simply because he is a character who (imo) NEEDS a build up to feel like he actually cares abt someone instead of being generally apathetic. but in this part of the story we’re like…past that build up if that makes sense?? so he feels weird to me rn since he’s the product of character development that’s happened chronologically but not narratively. idk that was a long rant for no reason LMAO i hope you guys don’t hate the chapter.

divider credits: @/benkeibear

You were awoken from a pleasant dream whose contents you could not remember by banging on the room door. When Ryosuke only groaned and mumbled something violent in response, you realized that it fell to you to see what was happening. Yawning and rubbing your eyes, you rolled out of bed and stumbled over to the entrance, swinging it open to find a straight-faced Reo and a playfully irritated May.

“What happened to not sleeping, huh?” May said, poking you in the forehead.

“We weren’t sleeping,” you said, though your statement was punctuated by another yawn, somewhat detracting from its validity.

“That’s believable,” Reo said.

“Oh, that’s enough out of you,” you said. “What’s up? Why’re you guys here?”

“We were going to show you around, remember?” May said.

“You weren’t answering our texts and calls, so we came to see how you were doing in person,” Reo said, his expression uncharacteristically sour.

“Don’t mind him,” May said. “He’s just mad because he lost one of our bets.”

“What was it this time?” you said. For as long as they had been acquainted, Reo and May had constantly been making lighthearted bets against one another, and it seemed that even with their wedding looming so close, their games had not ceased any.

“It was a stupid bet,” Reo grumbled. “I was so sure I was going to win, but my own best friend betrayed me!”

“Me?” you said, pointing at yourself. “What, because I fell asleep? Did you seriously bet I was going to stay awake? You should’ve known better.”

“So you were asleep!” May said.

“Er,” you said. “Well, there’s no point in hiding it. Yeah, we were.”

“Shame on you,” May said.

“Actually, I’m talking about Nagi,” Reo said. “I bet that he wouldn’t come to dinner with all of us later tonight, because it would be way too much of a chore.”

“That’s a pretty sensible option,” you said. “He doesn’t really do things unless they’re easy for him.”

“Exactly my point!” Reo said. “See? I’m not stupid!”

“Maybe neither of you know him as well as I do,” May said with a mysterious shrug. “I guessed he was going to come, and guess what? He is!”

“It’s just not plausible for you to know him better than me!” Reo said. “Y/N, sure, that makes sense. She barely ever talked to him, so it’s not impossible for you to have the upper hand if you’re betting against her. But me? Me? That’s — it’s — it’s just preposterous, that’s what it is!”

“He’s taking this pretty personally,” you observed.

“I know,” May said. “It’s really funny. Every time I pretend like I might know more than him about you or Nagi, he freaks out. The trick is that most of the time, he actually does win bets involving the two of you. I just really ham up the few times that I do win, so it seems like I’m some kind of clairvoyant genius or something.”

“Maybe you’re not clairvoyant, but you’re definitely comedic,” you said. “I’m grateful you’re the one marrying him. He needs someone that keeps him on his toes.”

“It’s a duty I take seriously,” she said. “Anyways, is that fiancé of yours going to come with us or not?”

“Oh, right,” Reo said, his anger dissipating entirely. “That was the other question. Will he want to be there?”

“I’ll make him come to dinner for sure,” you said. “I don’t know if he’ll want to go shopping, though. I can ask.”

“You don’t have to,” May said.

“True,” Reo said. “The three of us could just hang out. It’d be like old times.”

“I’d feel embarrassed third-wheeling you two,” you said. “What would I do when you started getting all lovey-dovey? It would be really awkward if I didn’t even have anyone there to commiserate with.”

“You’re such a baby,” May said. “It’ll be fine. We’ll keep our PDA to a minimum.”

“I’ve known Reo for too long,” you said, pointing at where his hand was already intertwining with hers. “Asking him to refrain from PDA is a cruel and unusual punishment that I could never inflict, even if it was for my own personal comfort.”

“That’s true,” she said, leaning against him slightly. It was the kind of love that was so assured they did not even have to think twice about it. It came naturally, simply. There was no facade to be maintained, no perfect image that was always mere seconds away from shattering entirely.

“Right, so let me just wake Ryosuke up and see what he says,” you said, though of course, you didn’t need to. Perhaps there was not as much love between you and him as there once had been, but your understanding had only grown in the years that had passed, so you could predict his answer with perfect accuracy before you had even asked the question.

He was already stirring when you returned to his side, running his fingers through his hair and drinking from the bottle of water that the hotel staff had so kindly left on our bedside.

“Morning, babe,” he said to you.

“It’s actually afternoon,” you said.

“It’s morning somewhere,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“Sure,” you said. “Look, Reo and May are here. They’re going to take us to the mall and show us around, and then we’ll all go to dinner together.”

“Okay,” he said. “Give a minute and I’ll meet you all outside.”

“You’ll come shopping?” you checked.

“Of course I will. I need to make sure you don’t buy anything unfashionable,” he said, winking at you cheekily. You did not respond in kind.

“We’ll wait in the hotel lobby,” you said. You wanted to badly to believe that he was being like this because seeing Reo and May had reminded him of what your life used to be like, but the truth was probably just that he had not had the chance to see another woman in some time and was therefore feeling fonder of you because you were his only option, as he was yours.

“He’ll meet us in the lobby,” you said to Reo and May, taking your purse off of the hook by the entrance. The strap rested on your shoulder as you made sure you had one of the copies of the key in your wallet before shutting the door behind you, trusting Ryosuke would lock it.

“If he takes too long, we’ll leave without him,” May said. Reo did not say anything, but considering his policy of being as polite at all times as he could manage, it was as good as an agreement on his part. You supposed May must’ve made clear her dislike to Reo, although if you were recalling correctly, Reo had never exactly been Ryosuke’s number-one-fan, either. He was just better about hiding it than May and Chigiri, both of whom were all but open about their true feelings towards him.

“He won’t,” you said. “He’s basically ready. He just had to use the bathroom, I think.”

“I was just saying,” she said. “It would be in character for him to take forever, is all. What did Chigiri always call him? A peacock bastard or something?”

“Believe it or not, he still calls him that,” you said.

“To his face?” Reo said, eyebrows shooting up. “That’s gutsy, even for him.”

“I knew I liked him for a reason,” May said.

“Not exactly to his face, considering he refuses to even look at Ryosuke. Apparently, it breaks him out,” you said. “And you know how he is about his skin care, Reo.”

Reo, who had been Chigiri’s roommate just as you had been May’s, made a face in acknowledgment, likely recalling as you were the bottles upon bottles of expensive lotions and hair products that Chigiri had invested most of his allowance and, later, salary in.

“He’s not wrong, per se,” May said. “I can feel an itch under my skin as well, just from being around him for so long.”

“I hope that you can get over your allergy on this trip, then,” you said. “Considering he’s going to be at your wedding, and you’ll be at mine.”

“He’s only here as your plus one,” May said.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s here,” you said slowly, like you were explaining the concept to a child.

“No, but it does mean that I didn’t invite him,” she explained. Reo tried to cover his snicker by hiding his mouth behind his hand, but considering his eyes still scrunched at the corners and glittered with mirth, he was overall unsuccessful.

“Just be nice to him, please,” you said. “It’s my life you’re making harder. At least with Chigiri, there’s that old rivalry to explain it, but you’re just going out of your way to be rude.”

“You’re right,” Reo said, suddenly guilty, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging up his shoulders high as a defense from your disappointment. “We’ll call a truce for the duration of the wedding.”

“We will?” May said.

“May, she promised to get along with Nagi for us,” he said. “It’s the least we owe her.”

“Stop bringing Nagi up,” you said, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” Reo said. May pursed her lips but nodded, though she looked more contemplative than unwilling, as if some new information had suddenly been revealed to her. You couldn’t be sure what information that might’ve been, exactly, but since she did not reveal her hand, you were left to guess.

Ryosuke stepped out of the elevator a few moments later, wearing a new set of clothes and an easy grin. He waved at the receptionist when he passed her, and then he crossed the room to stand at your side, though you noticed he did not even try to put his arm around your body or his hand on your own. He seemed more like a particularly close friend than a lover, and you trained your gaze on the ground instead of reaching out for him as you could have.

“Hope I didn’t keep you guys waiting for long,” he said. May shook her head, smiling at him as best she could. She must’ve picked up that political savvy from Reo, who had a natural-born charm which endeared him to all.

“It’s not a problem,” she said. Ryosuke seemed taken aback by the sudden switch in her demeanor, but he took it in stride.

“Alright,” he said. “Should we get going, then?”

“Yes, that sounds good. Should we take one car or two?” Reo said.

“I vote two,” you said, wanting to give Reo and May the privacy that would be hard-won in the coming weeks. May nodded.

“Agreed. I call having Y/N with me!” she said, wrapping herself around your bicep and batting her eyelashes at Reo.

“Okay,” he said through gritted teeth. “Looks like it’s you and me, Kira.”

“Fine by me,” Ryosuke said.

“Wait, May, don’t you want to spend some time with Reo?” you said. “You guys are going to be so busy getting ready for the wedding soon, so you’ll barely have any moments alone with him.”

“We have our entire lives to spend together,” she said, smiling fondly at Reo. “And I haven’t seen you in years. Of course I want to go with you!”

“If you say so,” you said.

“We’ll meet you there,” Reo said, walking towards the first car waiting in the pickup lane of the hotel, Ryosuke following after him. You and May waited for them to drive off and the second car to pull up before you, too, exited the hotel lobby and got into the backseat together.

“Alright, now that those two are gone, let’s get to the real stuff,” May said, rubbing her hands together.

“What real stuff?” you said. She beamed.

“I want to know what’s up with you!” she said.

“I always text you whenever something happens,” you said. “So you’re pretty much all caught up. Not that there’s really much to catch up on.”

“Why haven’t you picked a wedding day?” she said.

“It’s always straight to the point with you, isn’t it?” you said. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel ready to get married yet.”

“You’re the one who’s holding back?” she said.

“I’ve always been the one holding back,” you reminded her. “Even when we were in college. If you’ll recall, he had to try quite a lot to get me to agree to go out with him.”

“That’s true, but now that the two of you are together, I would’ve said for sure that Mr. ‘I’m-Scared-of-Commitment’ would’ve been the one making a fuss about having to actually get married,” she said.

You almost caved. You almost opened your mouth and told her that it was because you resented Ryosuke, resented him as much if not more than you loved him, and you could not marry someone like that. But neither could you leave him, and so you were stuck in this strange, endless limbo, which you could not escape from nor meaningfully exist in.

“He’s happy,” you said. “He actually brought up choosing a date the other day. I’m the one who’s being weird about it.”

May made a noise of sympathy. “Why?”

You leaned your head against the tinted window, watching the familiar sights of your childhood flashing by, so different and yet still the same. That girl who you had been when you had lived here last…you wondered what she’d think of you now. Was this what she had imagined her life would look like one day?

You didn’t need to ponder it for very long. You knew the answer already — no.

“Why did you say yes when Reo asked you to marry him?” you said instead of responding, thinking back to the day he had proposed to her.

“Because saying yes meant spending the rest of my life with him,” she said.

“And that was something you wanted?” you pressed.

“Of course,” she said. “Even now, my life with him is so wonderful. I want to share as much of myself as I can with him. Isn’t it the same for you? Isn’t that why you said yes? After all, Kira proposed first. If anything, I should be asking you these questions.”

“I guess so,” you said. No. No, of course not. The thought of spending the rest of your life living like this was akin to an imprisonment. It was a great burden weighing down on you, but then again, it was better than the alternative, which was the reason why you still could not bring yourself to leave.

“I’m not judging you or anything,” May said. “And trust me, I could, but I’m not, because I really just want you to be happy. Are you?”

“Am I what?” you said.

“Happy,” she said. “When you were a kid, is this what you dreamt your life would look like?”

You laughed bitterly. “Of course not. People outgrow dreams, May. I was an idealistic girl when I was younger, and there’s no place in this world for that. I have a stable job and a fine home. I have a fiancé who does not mistreat me. I have a cat of my own and a friend who lives only minutes away. Maybe I’m not as happy as I could be, but I’m satisfied.”

“I see,” May said. “If that’s the way it is…I’m glad for you. After everything, you deserve it.”

You exhaled heavily, unsure of what to say. “Thank you.”

Reo and Ryosuke were waiting for you in the front of the mall, and you could not help but take notice of the marked difference between the two of them. Ryosuke was looking around, his lively eyes settling on every girl as they walked past, his posture inviting and casual. On the other hand, Reo was closed off to any approaches, entirely focused on scanning the entryway, craning his neck every time the doors opened in case the next person to walk through would be May.

Unfortunately for him, the people you entered behind were taller than both you and May, so you escaped his notice until the two of you were behind him and May was grinning devilishly. Abruptly, she placed her hands on his shoulders, shaking him back and forth as he shrieked in surprise.

“May!” he said, clutching his heart as he fought for breath. “You scared me. I thought I was being kidnapped.”

“Maybe you are,” she said. “Y/N, I’m holding your best friend for ransom. Give me lots of money and I’ll let him go!”

“No, thanks. You can keep him,” you said.

“Wow, Y/N,” Reo said, pretending to wipe away a tear. “It’s heartwarming how much you care about me.”

“Oh, you guys are here,” Ryosuke said, finally tuning into the conversation. “Took you long enough.”

The joking mood vanished immediately. Suddenly, you were a child again, your mother shaking her head at you in disapproval every time you did something wrong, your father sighing every time you asked him why he was upset, as if you should’ve known just from the way he looked at you what he was feeling.

“We had to make sure you got a taste of waiting, too,” May said before looping her arm through your own. “Though you really had no reason to. You boys can go do whatever, and Y/N and I will go through every single store together!”

“That’s not fair!” Reo said. “I want to help you guys shop.”

“I know, but don’t you think it would be rude to leave Kira on his own? Anyways, this way we can surprise you with what we get,” she said.

“Kira wants to go, though, right?” Reo said, turning to Ryosuke, his eyes wide and pleading. Ryosuke, who had been gazing at a girl as she laughed with her friends, jumped at the mention of his name.

“Huh? Nah, it’s okay. May will make sure she doesn’t buy anything hideous, won’t you, May?” he said. Out of his sight, Reo’s face crumpled, and you thought he genuinely might start sobbing. Reaching out, you patted him on the shoulder comfortingly.

“I would never let her walk around looking ugly,” May said. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s get started — this is a big mall, and we only have so much time before we have to meet back up with everyone for dinner.”

“Bye, guys,” Reo said forlornly, the tendons in his hand flexing, like he was considering reaching out and forcing you to stay back. He must’ve decided against it, though, as he only waved before trudging behind Ryosuke, giving you one last, desperate look over his shoulder before rounding the corner.

Surprisingly, you didn’t buy as much as you thought you might. Without Reo there to insist you and May try on half of every store’s merchandise, you both ended up spending more time making fun of the clothes you saw than anything.

“That sweater is so fucking ugly,” you said, pointing at a strangely posed mannequin. May pretended to gag.

“I think designers have this thing where they purposefully try to design the most horrendous clothes possible, and then, once they genuinely cannot look any worse, they put a brand name and a massive price tag on them and watch people go crazy,” she said. You giggled in agreement.

You had forgotten what it was like to have a friend like this. Your relationship with Chigiri was different — no less important, but different. Being with May was exactly what you needed to calm the turmoil of your mind, and for her part, May was happy to just spend time with you, even if your discussions were more superficial and silly than anything.

The restaurant that Reo had booked a reservation at was in a five-star hotel across town. It was an upscale place, and you spent the entire drive over fidgeting with your clothes, hoping that you were wearing something appropriate for the occasion.

“You look fine, seriously,” May reassured you as you got out of the car.

“Are you sure? I feel underdressed,” you said.

“I’m the same level of dressed as you, so if they’re going to judge you, they’re going to judge me, too,” she said. “We’re in this together. Feel better?”

“A little bit,” you said.

“Good. Excuse me, miss, but we have a reservation for five? Some of our party has arrived already,” she said.

“What’s the name?” the hostess said. She was pretty, with long, smooth hair and innocent features.

“Mikage,” she said. The hostess’s eyes widened, but to her credit, she did not otherwise freak out. Beckoning you to follow after her, she led you to the table where Reo and Ryosuke were sitting.

“Here you are,” she said. “Will the final member of your party be along shortly?”

Reo pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’ll be here at some point. Being on time isn’t exactly his strong suit. Knowing him, he’s probably asleep right now. Say, May, if he ends up being a no-show, does that mean I win the bet?”

May paled. “I’m calling him.”

“That’s cheating! May — May, that’s cheating, stop!” he said as May held her phone to her ear, waving him off.

“I already won the bet, so it’s not cheating if I’m just ensuring my victory remains secure,” she said.

“What are they talking about?” Ryosuke said to you.

“They made a bet about whether Reo’s best man will come to dinner tonight,” you said. “He agreed to earlier, which meant May won, but now he hasn’t shown up, so Reo’s gunning for a comeback victory.”

“Interesting,” Ryosuke said. “Aren’t you glad we’re not so childish?”

You looked at the plush carpet beneath your feet when you answered. “Yes.”

Ryosuke, who was sitting beside you, rubbed your thigh, clicking his tongue as Reo tried to grab May’s phone from her. She barely warded him off with one hand, holding the cell up to her ear with the other.

“Hello? Nagi?” she said. “Mhm, this is May. Yes. Yes, we’re all here. Oh, you’re on your way? Well, sorry, asshole, but you being so late has been more of a hassle for me than answering this call was for you. Okay. Yep. See you soon, I guess. I’ll tell him.”

She hung up with a sly smirk, poking Reo in the cheek. He hung his head in defeat, though of course, he was smiling the entire time, belying his true amusement. They never had any stakes for their bets, and this was on purpose: the competitions were just a silly way for them to liven up how mundane everyday existence could be.

“He was seriously already on his way?” he said.

“Yeah, and he wanted me to tell you to just order the appetizers already. He’s apparently so starved that he might die if he doesn’t eat within the next few minutes,” she said.

“For helping you win the bet instead of me, he deserves it. Traitor,” Reo said, though he waved the waitress over and began listing off the many appetizers he wanted for the table regardless.

“Looks like I’m finally going to get to meet the infamous Nagi,” Ryosuke said, giving the waitress a brilliant grin that forced a blush out of her as she scurried back to the kitchen.

“How do you know him?” you said.

“I’ve heard his name around,” he said. “Once or twice. There was that whole scandal a couple of years ago, too, don’t you remember? When he lost that game and then quit soccer for good?”

There was no way you couldn’t remember. That was the last time you had been back in Japan. You had been in this very town when it had happened, but despite your proximity, you had never found out the reason for it all. You had never understood why he had done it. But, then again, there were so many things about him that you had never understood, so it wasn’t a shock. To you, he would always be an enigma, and one you had no interest in unraveling anymore, to boot.

It was a few minutes later that he walked in. You were dimly aware of Reo high-fiving May in congratulations, never one to be capable of even pretending to stay angry for very long, and also of Ryosuke straightening his back in interest at the newcomer, but none of these things could hold your attention when it was Seishiro Nagi standing in front of you.

He looked almost the same as he had when you saw him last. His pale hair was still kept in the same messy style, though it was soaked for some reason, water dripping down the strands and splashing onto his cheeks. He still wore that same sleepy expression, though something sparked in his dove-colored eyes when they met yours. His shirt was wet, too, the fabric clinging to his muscular body as he draped his jacket over the back of his chair and sat down across from you.

“It was raining,” he said by way of explanation, and though he was speaking to everyone, you could tell he was waiting for your reaction, specifically. You pursed your lips and avoided his heavy stare as best as you could.

“You’re so dumb. Why didn’t you just use an umbrella?” Reo said with a groan, reaching over May’s lap to hand him a napkin.

“Don’t like them,” he said, accepting the napkin and using it to dry off his hair, giving him the frazzled appearance of a mad scientist. “It’s too much work carrying them around.”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, wanting to say something but finding yourself completely unable to. Thankfully, Ryosuke spoke up, leaning forward with an uncharacteristic interest.

“The falcon of the field,” he said. Nagi’s face was impassive at the mention of his old nickname, from back when he was still one of the top players in the league. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“Who are you?” Nagi said, pulling out his phone — you were impressed he had lasted so long without it — and began to play a game that, judging by the movement of his fingers, was either Candy Crush or some variant of it.

“Ryosuke Kira.” This earned him a grunt from the clearly uninterested Nagi. “You went to high school with Y/N, right?”

Nagi glanced up at him. “Yeah.”

“I’m her fiancé,” Ryosuke said, wrapping his arm around you in a way that implied possession more than affection. “We got engaged a few years ago.”

“That’s great, man,” Nagi said, returning to his game. “Congratulations.”

“I’m lucky. She’s really the perfect girl,” Ryosuke said.

“Mhm,” Nagi said. His phone vibrated, indicating he had cleared another level. A smile flickered across his face. He was like that, you remembered. Never happier than when he had won a game.

“Ryosuke, stop,” you said. “He doesn’t care.”

“I’m just trying to be friendly,” Ryosuke said. “What about you, Nagi? Anyone special waiting for you back at home?”

Nagi’s phone let out a sad sound. You could picture the screen, the mournful characters and the swirling font, which would read something along the lines of You Ran Out of Moves! He frowned, clicking to restart the level.

“Nope,” he said.

“Wow, that’s a surprise. Well, don’t worry about it. It may seem hopeless now, but the right person will come along when you least expect it!” Ryosuke said.

“Probably not,” Nagi said. “Reo, I’m hungry. How much longer until the food gets here?”

“I’m not sure,” Reo said. “I’ll go speak with the waitress and ask her about the delay.”

“I’ll come with,” May said immediately, springing to her feet and dashing after Reo. You didn’t blame her — if you had a way to escape the awkward situation, you would’ve taken it in a heartbeat.

“Don’t be so pessimistic!” Ryosuke said, in what you were sure he thought was an encouraging tone. “It really does happen like that. Take Y/N, for example.”

“Or don’t,” you said.

“She had never even dated anyone before meeting me,” Ryosuke said. Nagi snorted.

“Really?” he said.

You kicked him under the table, your foot coming into contact with his shin as hard as you could manage. Unfortunately, it had all of the effect that a fly landing on him would’ve, as he only peered over his phone at you for an instant before returning to his game.

“Yup, and now we’re going to get married. All of that is to say we never know what’s going to happen and who we’re going to meet,” Ryosuke said. It was a speech that you might’ve found inspirational, if the circumstances were different. As it was, though, you could only sink down into your chair in embarrassment.

“Sure,” Nagi said. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“That’s the spirit. Who can tell? Maybe your future wife is sitting right in front of you!” Ryosuke said.

“Doubt it,” Nagi said. “Considering it’s your fiancée sitting right in front of me at the moment.”

You kicked him again. He blinked at you innocently. You glared at him, begging him to keep his mouth shut. Shrugging his shoulders only slightly, he set his phone to the side as Reo returned with the waitress, who murmured apologies — mostly to Ryosuke — and set your food down in front of you.

“Apparently, they had sent our food to the wrong table,” Reo said. “Go figure. Nagi, you had better not go on your phone while you eat, or else you’ll get bored of chewing and May will have to do the Heimlich on you again.”

Nagi, who had already put his phone face-down on the table, muttered rebelliously to himself but did not pick it up again, as per Reo’s directive. For her part, May inched her chair away from his, obviously not too keen on being volunteered as the resident Heimlich-maneuver-performer.

“Say, Y/N, I’m feeling a little full already,” Ryosuke said, pushing his plate towards you. “And I’m tired from earlier. Do you mind if I go back early?”

“Go ahead,” you said. “Do you want me to come?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t want to take away your time with your friends,” he said. It was then that you realized the hostess who had greeted you had left her station, presumably to change out of her uniform, and your shoulders slumped as you nodded.

“That’s good. I was actually going to ask if I could sleep at May and Reo’s, so it works out,” you said.

“Huh, what?” May said. “I’m alright with it as long as Reo is, but why?”

“For old times’ sake, I guess,” you said. “Although I’m sure just the closet alone at your house is twice the size of our old dorm room.”

“Probably,” she said. “Reo?”

You thought for a second that he might protest, but in fact, Reo actually looked like he might burst into tears of delight.

“Yes!” he said. “Of course — but on the condition that you let me finally talk to her for a bit!”

“Oh, sure,” May said.

“Then it’s a deal,” Reo said.

“That works out,” Ryosuke said, stooping over to press a kiss on your temple. “Now I won’t have to worry about how you get back.”

“Right,” you said, and you were so practiced that the lie came to your lips easily. “I’m glad.”

“I’ll go call the driver for you, Kira,” May said, excusing herself from the table and striding out of the restaurant. A few seconds later, Reo’s phone buzzed. He glanced down at it before groaning.

“Ugh, they keep doing this!” he said.

“What happened?” you said.

“Sometimes, people get it into their heads that just because May is from a different country and isn’t officially married to me yet, they can get away with treating her as less than a Mikage,” Reo said, standing up and pushing his chair in. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I need to fire. Come on, Kira; I’ll just drive you myself. Y/N, Nagi, will you be alright on your own for a bit? I’ll come back with May once we’ve dropped off Kira and she’s calmed down a bit.”

“No,” you said.

“Yes,” Nagi said at the same time, giving you a quizzical look. “It’s alright, Reo.”

“Be civil,” Reo ordered. “I’ll speed a lot, so it won’t be long.”

“See you tomorrow, babe,” Ryosuke said, kissing you again, this time on your lips.

“Ew,” Nagi said.

“Ah, excuse me?” Ryosuke said politely.

“You’re excused,” Nagi said.

“No, that’s not—” Ryosuke looked around for help, but of course none was forthcoming. “Never mind. Um, I’ll just go, then. Reo, do you mind if I stop in the bathroom first?”

“Whatever. I’m going to go check on May and yell at that driver, so meet us there,” Reo said, already storming off. He was so good-natured most of the time that it was easy to forget just how quick to anger he was as well. He had a fearsome temper that he had only recently learnt to control, and on the occasions it reared its head, someone almost always regretted their actions immensely.

As soon as the others were gone, you were unabashedly scowling at Nagi, who did not visibly react.

“Stop it,” you said.

“Stop what?” he said.

“Stop provoking my fiancé,” you said.

“I’m not provoking anyone,” he said, admiring the depths of his drink instead of looking at you. “That would take a lot of effort.”

“You are,” you said. “You keep saying these things that anyone could misinterpret!”

“Misinterpret?” he said. “Uh, you do know what that word means, right?”

“Nagi,” you hissed.

His mouth rearranged itself into a small pout. “The others are gone now. You can just call me Seishiro.”

“I’m being serious,” you said. He let out an aggravated sigh.

“No, you’re just being a hassle. Whatever. Call me Nagi, if that’s what you want. I’m still going to call you Y/N,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

“Very original,” he observed.

“Look, I don’t care what you do,” you said. “Just leave me out of it. I’m going to get married soon. I don’t need you acting odd and complicating things the way you always do.”

“I’m not acting odd,” he said. “You’re acting odd.”

“No, I am not!” you said.

“Yeah, you are,” he said. “Also, you suck at kicking. And your fiancé is a pain.”

“Maybe he is,” you said. “But at least he wants me.”

“Is that so?” he said. “I dunno. It looked like he wanted that waitress, too. And that hostess. And May. But I don’t think he’d go after her, because, y’know, Reo would be pretty mad, and he can definitely afford a better lawyer than Kira can if it comes down to it…”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said.

“Sure,” he said. “Fine. I don’t know anything. You know everything. This is such a pointless conversation.”

“I agree,” you said. “Let’s finish it. I promised Reo I’d get along with you for the sake of the wedding, but please, Nagi, I’m begging you…once it’s over, let’s just go back to being strangers. That’s the best way.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you since you left,” he said. “You never once messaged me or called me. I thought you would apologize or something once we met again, but you’re not apologizing. You’re saying you want us to be strangers. Do you mean it was on purpose?”

“Of course it was on purpose,” you said. “What good would it have done for me to message you? To call you? It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“It would’ve,” he said quietly, picking up his phone again. “For me, it would’ve.”

“But I didn’t,” you said.

“You didn’t,” he agreed. He was playing Candy Crush again, but though he seemed entranced by the game, you knew he was listening to you still.

“Look, dwelling on the past doesn’t accomplish anything,” you said. “For better or worse, this is where our lives have led us. This is the culmination of all of our decisions. Okay? Stop pretending like any of it can change. It can’t.”

“Mhm,” he said. “Look. I cleared the level.”

He showed you his phone. Just as you had thought, he was playing Candy Crush, and true to his word, the characters were smiling and dancing on the screen, the congratulatory message written in a sweet, bubbly pink.

You Won!

For some reason, it didn’t feel like either of you had.

taglist (comment/send an ask to be added): @mariyumemi @naatggeo @prettyarsxnist

#nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #peregrine #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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thygoddessouijathicc · 7 months

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Bishop Edibility Tierlist; A very deeply serious essay about which bishop would taste the best if you had to eat one of them for any reason

Aight, 88% of you voted in favour of this being released, so this is on you. This blood is on YOUR hands. Just remember that as you read this.

So you all remember that essay I did about how the bishops all had some kinda trauma or different reactions to purgatory and shit and how that was such a serious thing analyzing dialogue and reactions and stuff-?

Well there are TWO wolves inside of me, and one of them writes serious researched essays, it’s time you meet the other.

To preface this, this essay is entirely a joke please don’t take any word of this seriously.

To start with, technically anything is edible if you try hard enough, sometimes only once but I digress, however some things are more appetizing than others.

For this essay we will be taking evidence from canon in some cases on things you can eat, but assuming that this only means these things are more appetizing in this world, not that anything you can’t feast upon very specifically in the game is somehow inedible. Meat is meat.

Also Narinder will be referred to as a bishop because he was one.

Ok let’s start our list.

At the absolute bottom of the edibility tierlist is Narinder. Narinder is a cat. While technically cats are indeed edible by the laws of meat is meat, cats hold a special place in the hearts of many including myself.

But to be honest the real reason that Narinder holds this spot is meat quantity and quality of him specifically. Narinder, holds very little meat. Sure he has a head, but his arms are skeletal and it’s safe to assume possibly a lot of the rest of his body tis also but frail bone. Possibly what is not could also be rotten if he’s that kind of god of death that qualifies as a corpse. And while meat is meat, Narinder not only has very little, but what he does have may be poor quality. This cements him in the shameful bottom spot.

He’s also a-

Moving on, next, quite regrettably, is Leshy. Leshy is a major jump in quality from Narinder.

We don’t know much about bushworms or their anatomy but what we do know, is Leshy is dummy thicc, this means he has a large quantity of meat.

Unfortunately Leshy is also a worm which isn’t exactly the most appetizing creature to put in your gaping maw so that docks him a few points.

However the true reason he cannot be higher is that depending on your read of his anatomy, Leshy could qualify as a salad, and EWWWWW VEGITALS!!! 🤢🤮🤮

Moving on to the “would eat again category” we start with Heket.

Now it should not be news to anyone that frogs are edible, especially to French people. But I don’t believe in French people, they aren’t real. Anyway as I’m saying, you can eat frogs to your hearts content!

There are sanitation issues with Anura apparently being super gross which docks some points but overall, Heket is a solid option.

Now we’ve reached “ok hear me out” territory with Shamura.

Spiders are a major food source in cult of the lamb. Which is a bit questionable for a few reasons, including that there are multiple spider characters and Webber exists but also small spiders on the ground which seem to be a separate species which raises a lot of questions possibly best gone unanswered.

What really matters is what you can do with the small spiders you find around, you can chase them down and when you catch them, they drop meat. My friends have told me that this means I’m just taking meat they are holding, after all you can get berries if the spider has taken them.

What I say to this is: but the idea of lamb running around at night and picking up whole large spiders off the ground and feeding them to their followers is fucking hilarious, and also they always drop the same meat and never berries unless they have picked them up. You’d think if I’m just taking what they have and they will eat berries as well as meat, that I’d get berries more often. Nay, only when picked up from my farms.

This leads to the only possible conclusion being that people in the cult of the lamb universe feed often on spiders, that’s right, Helob eating followers is VENGEANCE.

So, we have established spiders are very edible in cult of the lamb, and you know what Shamura is? A giant fucking spider. They are edible, I rest my case.

Now let’s move on to first place oh boy who is it, probably who you should have expected, Kallamar.

His name sounds like Calamari to start with and not only can you eat squids in real life, you can in the game (similar weird separate species thing with spiders only in this case it’s more definitive that you can very much eat the squids themselves.)

Kallamar would also likely cry if you proclaimed your desire to consume him, misery not only makes meat better but his tears could be seasoning!

Not even to mention the fact that after beating him, it would be a moment of victoriousness and pure vindictive nature, to proceed to eat Kallamar, and vindictive nature is something I most definitely do not lack as I cuss out bishops every time I see the statues after I beat them.

Squids also don’t have many bones so unlike the others who you’d have to spend an extensive time processing before eating, Kallamar would be easy and his bones make up very little of his composition.

In conclusion, why did you read this whole essay it’s not even that funny.

And those of you who voted to have this released. Are you happy?

Are you not entertained!?

#cult of the lamb shamura #cult of the lamb kallamar #cult of the lamb heket #cult of the lamb narinder #cult of the lamb leshy #cult of the lamb #COTL #cotl heket #cotl narinder #cotl leshy #cotl shamura #cotl kallamar #bishop shamura #bishop heket #bishop leshy #bishop kallamar #bishop narinder

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gallifreyriver · 3 months

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Update to this post because a year later they're still trying it.

They vote again tomorrow, March 13th, to try and ban TikTok- only this time they're doing all they can to claim it's not a TikTik ban.

They claim it's to "protect Americans from 'Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications'" despite singling out ByteDance/TikTok specifically, and mentioning TikTok in literally the first sentence.

They also claim it's not a "ban," they're just giving TikTok the "opportunity" to divest from ByteDance and sell it's company, algorithms and source code to a non-communist county (the US) within 180 days or the US will take action and make the app inaccessible to USA Americans, which make up 150 million of TikTok's user base, the largest TikTok audience by country so far.

One could call this a shakedown, that effectively the US is trying to steal a popular and profitable company. "That's a nice company you got there, be a shame if you... I don't know... lost 150 million users- Wouldn't it?"

[Edit: Forgot to add that even though the US has 150 million TikTok users, that's still only like 8%-ish of TikTiks total userbase- making this "shakedown" an example of how Congress is embarrassingly USA-centric. TikTok will not sell just to avoid losing just 7%-8% of it's userbase, and Congress must know that- if not, that just proves the point even more. This bill is for all intents and purposes a BAN, regardless how they try to spin it, and they're being very USA-centric and Xenophobic about it]

Anyway-

This is the second vote. A House committee voted unanimously on Mar. 7th to advance the bill, and it will be voted on again by a Republican controlled House.

Please call or email your representatives and tell them to vote "No" on bill H.R. 7521.

This isn't about just losing an app. TikTok is unique in that it is currently the easiest place to organize and spread information that otherwise doesn't get as much coverage. It allows for real time coverage and updates by those living through major events going on around the word, and has allowed for increased awareness for such events that we likely wouldn't hear about otherwise. (i.e: the genocide in Palestine, Cop City, any of the bills trying to take trans rights/abortion rights away, etc)

If you don't know your representatives, just google "who are my representatives" and the first results should be links that will help you find them based on your zip code

And if you don't know what to write I can help you there too.

You can write something as simple as just:

Vote "No" on bill H.R. 7521.

Seriously, that's all you need.

Or, if you want something a little more in depth, here's a script that you can either copy and paste or reword to your liking. I just re-worded the script from the ACLU link above to fit more specifically about the current bill (Though let's be honest, for all intents and purposes Congress is pulling the same shit in a different hat)

Dear Representative, I’m writing today to strongly urge you to protect our constitutional rights to free expression and to receive information, and to vote no on any bill that would give the federal government the power to ban entire social media platforms. Bill H.R. 7521 is designed to allow the government to ban TikTok in the US and would likely result in bans of other businesses and applications as well. Given what we know about TikTok, it’s clear that a ban would violate the First Amendment rights of millions of Americans who use the app to communicate and express themselves daily. Should these bills move to a vote, I urge you to vote “No.” In a purported attempt to protect the data of US persons from the Chinese government, these bills will instead block Americans from engaging in political discussions, artistic expression, and the free exchange of ideas. We have a First Amendment right to use TikTok and other platforms to exchange our thoughts, ideas, and opinions with people around the country and around the world. Please oppose any bill designed to limit our right to express ourselves — both online and off. Thank you.

Reminder, they vote tomorrow, Wednesday March 13th.

So please reblog this to spread the word and contact your representatives to tell them to vote "No" on this bill.

Do not be mistaken in thinking your opinion doesn't matter- it does matter so much. Do not let yourself be silenced!

#stop tiktok ban #tiktok #tiktok ban #internet censorship #important #urgent #sos #bad internet bills #internet freedom #congress #house of representatives #help

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munariplans · 2 years

Text

all i've ever needed | n. romanoff

natasha romanoff x actress!reader synopsis: a doomed relationship troubled by missed time and misunderstandings, some things take more to fix than a simple 'i'm sorry'. warnings: angst with a fluffy ending word count: 4.5k

There were few things both you and Natasha could agree on, which was what made the relationship so incredulous; for all the fights and arguments you endured throughout the duration of your relationship, you both could mutually agree on one thing.

And that one thing had been time; the single most important factor in the downfall of your relationship.

You did not know at which point in time it began; the avoidance, the disdain, the dread, even, of coming home to her. Perhaps it had been when you won the ‘Actress of the Year’ award from your latest film, or when your management started arranging for you and your co-star to be seen hanging around everywhere, or even when you had signed the contract for that film at all.

For Natasha, it had been definite. It was when Tony finally visited her one night, while she was crying her eyes out over yet another photograph of you and your co-star in public, and yelled at her that this was not normal.

Perhaps other than time, that damn film had been another factor in your relationship’s deterioration.

–

“It’s set and filmed in France, and the director’s a rather big hotshot, Nat.”

Natasha had just finished a training session at the gym when you appeared, showing her the synopsis and premise of the script for a new film you were eager to embark on.

She looked up at you, in your oversized linen shirt and pants, handing her a water bottle as she dabbled at the beads of perspiration on her forehead. Natasha had been the one training since five in the morning, but you were the one that looked more exhausted than ever.

The bags under your eyes and the weariness in your body language prompted her to ask, “You sure about this, baby?”

“Well, I’m not saying I’ll get it. A lot of other big name actresses are auditioning too,” you shrugged, taking a moment to sit down. After a full day of filming, your body was way beyond the point of soreness.

Natasha clucked her tongue. “You’re already the biggest name in the industry. That’s not what I meant. I wanted to ask if you were sure your schedule, and ours, could handle it.”

Perhaps the first warning sign had come from your, “Ours?”

“We’re supposed to spend this month together. It’s the only time I’ve requested for such a long break from missions, and I did so because I knew you were having a free period around this time, too.” Suddenly, the velvet box that had been hiding in Natasha’s room felt all the more prominent to her.

There was a brief moment of silence, as you gathered your thoughts, before you slowly took the papers back from her and stood. “Natasha.”

“Seriously?”

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Nat! This could make or break my career, and if all goes well, I think…” you inhaled deeply, trying to swallow the shame and selfishness you were about to phrase your next few words with, “...I think this could earn me my Academy award.”

There it was again. The talk of your career, your awards, all the accomplishments Natasha wished you did not care so much about. She understood, she did really, that at the point you were at in your career, you had every right to worry about when your Academy award would come. It determined the future trajectory of your roles, and ultimately, your success as an actress, but Natasha just felt that sometimes it all felt a little too unfair.

Even without your award, you were already one of the biggest names in Hollywood. And although Natasha knew the complications, and risks, in dating a celebrity, she risked it all anyway. Dates became hard to come by, confined in private spaces and in the comfort of your homes, you refused to be seen around in public with her, and Natasha had to swallow the bitterness in her heart each time you were asked if you were seeing someone in an interview, only to answer with a firm ‘no’.

Each party, each social gathering, each gala and fundraiser, she had to endure the men and women flirting with you and trying to get you home with them, only for her to be introduced as your friend. Even her training in the Red Room had not tested her patience, and tolerance, as much.

Once again, she clenched her jaw, and when you saw the shift in her expression, you sighed. She spat, “I guess I can’t make you not go, when you pull the awards card.”

You checked your watch. “I have to go. They need me for a product advertisement in an hour. Let’s not end this conversation like all of our other ones, darling. I came here to try to fix things, to let you get more involved in my life, like you always wanted. I don’t want to start a fight again.”

“I think you should just leave,” she got up from where she was, spotting Steve already making breakfast.

As she sauntered over to him and left you without more than a goodbye, you could only crush the papers in your hands and storm off as well, too tired to start an argument you were not prepared to end so quickly.

–

Unsurprisingly to Natasha, you had gotten the role. She could not deny, even from the start, that the role was perfect, the plot and the director suiting your style of acting all too well. And of course, deep down she was proud of you for clinching the role, like you had all of your other roles.

When you came home that night, expecting Natasha to be at a mission or in the Avengers’ Compound, you were holding on to a bottle of liquor, already prepared to celebrate alone with a drink. You knew Natasha would be upset, and you were not keen on celebrating with your other friends, so the only viable, and deserving, celebration would be with yourself.

But there she was; by the dining table, decorations behind her spelling ‘CONGRATULATIONS’ and your favourite Chinese takeout spread out below. She had set up candles, and the music had been the exact playlist the both of you played on the night of your first anniversary. It was personal, and comforting, and all the things you felt like you did not deserve.

Natasha welcomed you with open arms as you embraced her, tears brimming while you muttered, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, and I love you…and thank you.”

“Anything for you, baby.”

–

Natasha visited the set of the new film a few weeks later. Paris was cold, and smelly, and the flight there had been more than uncomfortable for her. But she hadn’t seen you in weeks, so naturally, seeing you trumped everything else that stood as a con for her to visit.

“Right this way. She’s finishing up a scene,” your assistant had informed her, while leading her through room after room, hallway after hallway.

What greeted her next made Natasha slightly uncomfortable, as she gripped the visitor’s pass around her neck even harder.

You were on the bed with your co-star, having just finished a bedroom scene in the most compromising manner possible. But that was not the reason behind her envy.

You were smiling and laughing, still straddling him, as he grinned back up at you, talking about something Natasha could not bother to listen to. The director and crew had begun packing up the set, but the both of you were still there, his torso between your thighs, your hair falling to shroud the both of your faces.

It took the set producer another minute to interrupt you two before you got off of him, but not before he sneakily reached up and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Natasha felt more red than her hair had been.

She waited for you to get dressed, before appearing in your dressing room.

“We’d just finished a scene, Nat, nothing more!” In the next moment, you were arguing, pacing from one end of your dressing room to the other.

“With you straddling him? Minutes after the scene was over and the crew had started to leave?” Natasha jerked the straw you had been sipping on away from you, squeezing the bottle in anger. “God if I had walked in any earlier would I have caught you fucking him, too?!”

The sentence managed to irk you deeply enough to fight back, a retort you regretted saying as soon as it left your mouth. “Maybe you should have.”

Ultimately, the restaurant she had booked for your dinner that night, along with the museum tickets for the weekend, and the day trip to Marseille she had planned, were cancelled, as Natasha begged for someone to pick her up as quickly as possible, with the Quinjet home.

–

The next time Natasha spoke to you, it had been at the airport. She was scheduled to take a flight undercover to avoid suspicion, but your desperation, and remorse, had managed to bring you to Steve and asked for her.

Sat on the uncomfortable plastic bench right by her gate, you watched as passenger after passenger began to slowly fill the room. There was no sight of her. But the boarding time had been delayed by half an hour, so perhaps she was using the time to arrive later.

The black cap and inconspicuous clothing did not help your situation; instead of a disguise, the outfit felt more like a prison for you, against others recognising who you were. The scarf was itchy, and the black cap was too tight around your head. Your phone was blowing up with texts from your less-than-pleased manager about the shoot in ten minutes, and against your better judgement, you silenced it.

An hour passed. The gate had opened. The higher priority passengers were starting to file in, but no matter how hard you looked, Natasha was nowhere to be found. You worried she was going to miss the flight, and then for a moment, you worried that Steve had given you the wrong information. But you held her friends in higher regard than that, you trusted Steve.

The majority of the group went in after that, and eventually, the gate began issuing the final boarding calls. Twice a stewardess had asked if you were going to enter, to which you had to shyly reject. You knew you were beyond fucked if you switched your phone back on.

And finally, when the airport worker came in to shut the last of the gates, Natasha came. She was hidden under a black cap and disguised herself, but you could spot her anywhere.

“Natasha,” you had appeared right before her, and the look on her face said enough. She was caught off-guard, and at a loss.

“I have to go, the flight’s–”

“I know you do. I just…just…” Your throat was closing up, “I’m sorry, Nat. I really am. I didn’t mean what I said, in Paris, and–”

“If you’re coming here to apologise to me with tears and all the words you already memorised from your million other apologies, I have no time for this. The gate’s closing.” Even then, the stewardess was rolling her eyes as Natasha shoved her fake passport under the reader.

“Please, please, just give me a minute.” It didn’t matter that you had waited hours for her, that you had sacrificed your dignity and time for an important shoot, or that the stewardess was giving the both of you the dirtiest look she had.

“Ma’am, I really must–” She tried to cut in, but at that moment, you pulled down your scarf and tossed your cap away. Her face went blank as a sheet, her hand flying to cover her mouth agape.

“Please, just a minute,” you begged, and dragged Natasha to the side.

She refused to meet your eyes. “Using your fame and privilege to get your way with people now? I thought you said you would never stoop so low.”

You swallowed the insult bubbling at the back of your throat. This is about her, not you. Instead, you let out an exhale, preparing yourself.

“I’ll do better. I promise.”

Natasha scoffed. “You say that every single time.”

“And I mean it, this time. I’ll do better, Nat,” you held onto her hands, leaning your forehead on hers, “Please, forgive me? Let me try to do better for you?”

Natasha always found it difficult to say no to those pleading eyes.

–

For a while after, everything seemed normal. You went back on set to shooting the film, Natasha got caught in back-to-back missions, and everything seemed as normal as it could be, in a secret relationship between an award-winning actress and an Avenger.

You had scheduled a date for the night with Natasha, but throughout the day, you had barely any chance to look at your phone, and Natasha had tried for umpteenth time to call and inform you that the mission was delayed and she could not make it in time for the reservation.

By the time you could check your phone, you were late for the date too, but the reservation could not be cancelled.

“...And it’s such a waste, cancelling a reservation there,” your co-star chimed in, as you groaned while reading Natasha’s texts, “It takes years for anyone not on Hollywood’s list to even get to the waiting list, and you’re giving it up?”

“Well, my friend couldn’t make it, so what am I supposed to do? Go with you instead?” You were joking, already preparing to forfeit the reservation altogether, but as you turned to him, you found nothing but excitement on his face. “Seriously?”

It took you a moment to consider his proposal, but with a quick fuck it, ultimately, you gave in and ended up sitting across from him at the restaurant.

You only wished you knew that Natasha had tipped off the restaurant that it had been an anniversary dinner, and that the restaurant would subsequently serve a special dessert she requested. Your co-star assumed that it was because they wanted to serve you both a special treat, but you knew better. And you had a sinking feeling that by doing so, the restaurant was tipping off the paparazzi outside.

That night, as the both of you left the restaurant, the flashing lights and screams from cameramen nearly made you lose your senses. Your co-star must have sensed your worry, and unease, but little did he know, his move to comfort you made things about a million times worse.

In the face of the paparazzi, he put his arm around your waist, and guided you through the crowd. Your body was flushed against his, and as he led you to your chauffeur, he slipped in a quick kiss on your cheek, much to the pleasure of the crowd.

You did not have to check your phone the next morning to see the army of texts from your manager, filming team, and director. Natasha had only sent a ‘This is you doing better?’

–

“Anticipation for the film is through the roof, this is very good publicity,” your director droned on for the fourth time that day, spinning excitedly in his chair as the rest of you sat in the meeting room, watching him, “You two are brilliant, absolutely brilliant!”

Your co-star looked over to smile at you, but you ignored him, shirking your hand away as he reached out to hold it. Lately, his advances had gotten more bold, fleeting glances lasting far too long, and offers to go on more ‘proper’ dinners more frequent. You wished you had the energy to entertain, but ever since that fateful night, any interaction with him sparked off an argument with Natasha, and at the same time, more publicity for the film. It was the double-edged sword you never imagined receiving.

Luckily, he was nice enough about it. He listened to all the excuses you listed whenever you rejected going out with him and let you vent out your frustrations over annoying scenes. He never got mad, or unreasonable, and some nights you sought out his comfort instead of Natasha’s, where every exchange and conversation had gotten terse, and the both of you had begun tiptoeing around each other.

Although your relationship with the Black Widow had reached a stalemate, there was nothing either of you were willing to do about it. She was too tired from her missions to talk it out with you, and secretly, deep down in her heart, she wondered when you would just put her out of her misery and end things altogether. You, on the other hand, were waiting for the perfect opportunity to fix things with her, while juggling a million other things that were demanded of you from your career.

–

When the film premiered, you and your co-star were scheduled to head to the premiere as dates. Dressed in matching suits and gowns, his arm stayed around your waist the whole night, while your eyes were desperately searching the crowd for someone.

Natasha was nowhere in the VIP list, even though you had spoken to her about it on the phone, and even sent two rounds of invitation cards for her to RSVP. She had not returned a single one.

‘Are you coming tonight?’ You sent a text the moment you got a break from the interviews and cameras.

The message left on delivered, while you were ushered away to meet yet another media interviewer.

That night, with a cigarette in between your lips for the first time in years (Natasha had managed to persuade you to quit before), and a bottle of whiskey waiting for your indulgence, you wondered if it was only fair she stood you up.

She only replied the following day with, ‘I’m so sorry. I forgot.’

–

“Hey, is she here today?” You asked Tony, who had been glaring at you the moment you stepped into the compound. Choosing to ignore his hostility, you offered him the gifts you had prepared for the Avengers from your film, after the busiest month from premieres and promotions had blown over.

“She’s out now, will probably be back in an hour,” he replied curtly.

You nodded awkwardly, asking if you could take a seat on the counter he was working on while you waited. He shrugged.

Although you were never close with Tony, it was still strange and very uncomfortable, the few minutes the both of you spent in silence. You watched as he tinkered with something, he felt your eyes on him, and the interaction lingered until he broke the silence first.

“You’re breaking her, you know.”

You blinked in surprise. “What?”

“You,” he threw his invention aside for a minute, crossing his arms and staring at you, “Your little stunt, or whatever it is, with that new boytoy of yours. It’s breaking her spirit, slowing down her fighting, and hurting her, so much. I mean, personally, I don’t care, I don’t get involved in my colleague’s personal lives, but–” he cut off in fury, his fists clenching as he tried to control himself, “–but Natasha’s a friend. And you’re hurting my friend, so I feel the need to step in. Do you see what I’m getting at here, buddy?”

You frowned. “We’ve had a rough patch, and–”

“No, no, no, a rough patch is a rough patch. You don’t get to call this a rough patch. God, you’ve been hurting her for nearly a year! Almost every single time we return from a mission, she tries to check on you and what you’re doing, but you push her away. You make her cry, you flaunt your relationship with that co-star of yours while keeping her in the shadows, and this kind of shit breaks someone. So unless you want me and the rest of these guys to step in and decide what’s best for the two of you, you better figure out what you want from her and stop treating your girlfriend like shit.”

Tony sighed, watching you hang your head low. For a moment, he considered saying all the nasty things he had wanted to say to you whenever he saw Natasha crying because of you, but that moment passed quickly when he remembered. She’s the love of my life, please, don’t hurt her too, Tony.

So he settled for, “She loves you, more than anything. So either fix this with her, or set her free.”

–

You took Natasha on a park date later on that day, still tense and a little intimidated by Tony’s speech. Natasha could sense the change; as you bravely reached out for her hand first and held it the moment you met.

Although the Avengers’ Compound had always been private and secular by nature, Natasha knew you were always on edge each time you appeared with her outside of the confines of your homes. But this time, you seemed more relaxed in her eyes, less afraid of what people said, or saw, and paying more attention towards her instead.

It was a welcomed change that she hoped would last, no matter how much she was telling herself to lower her expectations. It was the bare minimum, but lately, the bare minimum had been all the Black Widow allowed herself to hope for with you.

You asked about her day, she shared about her latest mission, and the both of you then discussed possible pet names for the dog she almost rescued from the mission. It felt easy, and safe, and all the things the two of you had missed so much since the new film was introduced to your lives.

–

When the invitation for the annual Academy awards came, you had been laying on Natasha’s lap, laughing about something your stylist had forced you to wear for a dinner with investors, while she played with your hair absentmindedly, a loving look on her face.

You looked up for a minute then, and at the smile that she let out, along with the softness in her eyes and knowing look in them, something changed. Suddenly, it all became clear. Crystal clear on where your priorities should have lied, and where they should lie in the future. It had been so obvious, and you must have been too blinded by your career to even realise it.

She had been more excited than you were that night, as the both of you opened the invitation to receive a notification that you were nominated for ‘Actress of The Year’ as well.

–

Unfortunately, Natasha broke her ribs in a mission awfully close to the date of the awards, and although bummed that she had to spend the time watching you attend the awards show in her bed at the Compound, she was a little relieved that she did not have to come under the spotlight of the dazzling lights and screaming fans at the show.

Having forced Clint, Tony, Bruce and Steve to settle into bed with her to watch the show, she was gripping onto your sweatshirt especially hard with how nervous she was.

You, on the other hand, were somehow more relaxed than anyone in the room. It truly was the biggest night of your life, as your manager had coined, and you knew this of course, but something else had been occupying your head ever since that fateful day with Natasha. It was the only right, and proper decision, you could make.

Natasha practically flew off of the bed and tackled Bruce as your name flashed on the screen as ‘Actress of The Year’, watching as you shyly, but calmly, made your way up onto the stage.

“She seems awfully calm for someone who’s been waiting her whole life for that award,” Steve tried to joke, but the atmosphere did change, even Natasha noticed, “Wonder what’s up with that.”

At the end of your speech, the team watched as you basked in the glory, the cheers, and the smell of success for a final time, as a tear rolled down your cheek. It oddly felt like you were saying goodbye, the bittersweet smiles you exchanged with your co-stars and friends. Natasha wondered if you knew something she didn’t.

The camera panned to you waiting for your name to be engraved on the award, even then you looked at peace. Watching as you kissed the award, then waved to the camera, Natasha knew something was different then.

The very same night, much to Natasha’s protests, you skipped the afterparties and post-show interviews, claiming to want to see and celebrate with her immediately. Against her complaints, you flew to the Avengers’ Compound in a jet, and as you landed and made your way over to her, she saw that you had tears in your eyes again.

Standing in front of her, she watched as you took her hands, and placed the award in them. “Baby, why are you–”

“I’ve done what I needed to do. I’ve gotten everything I wanted now,” your eyes softened, “All thanks to you.”

“I don’t…” Needless to say, she was confused.

Instead, you only smiled, and placed your hands over hers on the award. “I’m retiring, Nat. From the fame, from the industry, from my career. It’s you now, and it will only be you, who will have my full priority and attention and time, moving on from here. I submitted my resignation to management last week, and I’ve quit all my remaining jobs.”

The world stopped spinning for Natasha, as she stared straight at you. She could not believe what she was hearing. “But your award…your…this is the start of everything new for you, baby. This award will open all the doors you’ve always wanted!”

“The only thing I want right now is you, Natasha. And I’m sorry that it took me so long to realise that. All of this, the films, the shows, the awards and fame, it doesn’t seem so important to me anymore, not when there’s you. I’ve neglected you for so long, failed to see that all I ever needed, and all that was important for me, was you. I love you, and I wouldn’t trade your love for anything in the world.”

“You’re giving up your career for me?” The award felt much colder in Natasha’s hands then.

You leaned your forehead against hers, nuzzling into her comfort. “Yeah. I am. Maybe in the future, when opportunities open up and things change, maybe I could take on smaller, newer projects, who knows. But for now, I could care less about that when I have you. We could…we could start the family you always wanted, go out in public as a couple, even just have each other for more than twenty four hours at a time, Nat. Just you and me.”

The award was placed down on the ground. Natasha wrapped her arms tightly around your neck, and yours around her waist, as her tears soaked your dress from the show. You only chuckled, as she whispered words of forever to you, and you reassured her by whispering it right back.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel cinematic universe

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intheholler · 9 months

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i’m not from appalachia but i am from the south and the accent is definitely dieing (i am fucking determined to bring back this spelling) … rarely ever hear a young person with a heavy twang anymore, a light one sometimes yea. so sad its perceived as negative … nearly every time you see someone portray a dumb person in a joke they take on this stereotypical accent and its quite harmful really and they don’t even know … anyway sorry for coming in yer inbox and rambling but i’m interested in hearing what ya have to say about it

1) 2024 will officially be the year we bring back 'dieing' for good. god willing and the creek don't rise

2) 'what i have to say about it?' hahah *gestures broadly toward this ramblin blog*

no but in all seriousness, i believe the reason you don't hear that molasses-thick twang anymore is because young people in appalachia have better access to the outside world from an incredibly young age in a way we didn't even a few decades ago. used to be it required heading down the mountain to see what's what, and most can't afford that til they're older, if even then.

so now, we are taught younger and younger as impressionable babies to be ashamed of ourselves and by extension our accents, either from embarrassment of the stereotypes of where we're from, or because we're afraid people are gonna think we're "stupid" and not take us seriously.

without ever having to leave home, kids now can peer over the mountain sooner and see how people mock them and their accents. it doesn't cost any money to get online and see everyone calling you an inbred toothless hillbilly, to start feeling shame for something you didn't even know was being ridiculed--you--and work from them on to suppress your accent.

i was eight or nine the first time it was made known to me that people outside of home thought the way i talked made me "sound stupid" and i found out in person by a well-meaning family member. literally that same day i started trying to "talk normal" from then on out. i'm a young millennial, so internet was available to me but not in the way it is now. i can't imagine how it is for kids today.

i had a THICK accent as a kid. now, you can barely hear it even though i'm actively and consciously trying to relax the code switching muscle now that i am loving these parts of me again.

to your second point, i once saw someone say something (much more eloquently, and it's been years, so) along the lines of "tell a joke about someone you think is 'stupid'. do it aloud. what accent did you default to when you mocked them? now ask yourself why you did that."

only, no one wants to ask themselves that question. and so here we are.

i believe that that shame and mockery we have been wrongly saddled with from childhood is likely one of the biggest contributing factors as to why you hear a good strong accent less and less. and it fucking sucks.

3) come 'ramble' anytime!! love talking to yall and hearing your thoughts

#asks #appalachian dialect

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pigeonwit · 5 months

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hello again mr pigeon 'pidge' wit i come to u with a writing req ....... no pressure to write obviously!!!!

but consider ur shitface drunk davey w jack (potentially friends too) at a restaurant ... javey aren't together at this point ... but davey is just a little too drunk and ends up pretty much lying with his head on jacks lap ... cue 'jack, I don't wanna go all the way home all by myself ....... can I come home with you?' and jack being the smitten pushover he is of course lets David 'Lightweight' Jacobs sleep in his bed with him ...

davey wakes up has no recollection of what happened and is SO concerned when he wakes up in jacks bed - jack is shirtless - and oh lord he's SO hungover .... anyway ...

consider also jack waking up and saying 'hey beautiful' and Davey short circuiting and jack shrugging and saying 'well u seemed to like it just fine last night'

sorry for the long af ask but this????? in your writing style!!!!! I would shit myself /pos

roman i have had this in my inbox for so long cause i want to write this so goddamn badly but alas uni is killing me, so that's probably not gonna happen for a while. BUT! i do have little snippets for your convenience, because again, this idea was so fun and i wanted to write it so so badly. hope these can tide you over:

“Davey,” Jack says, far more charmed than he should be, because he is pathetic, “maybe you oughta take a break for a bit, you’re-”

“Don’t worry yourself, handsome,” Davey winks, and Jack immediately feels his stomach drop. They have entered Flirty Drunk Davey, which means Jack is going to be of no help for the entire evening. “I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions, and I’m deciding to get sloshed tonight.” He drums his hands on the table as he gets up and shoots Jack a finger-gun as he stumbles only slightly. “Livin’ la vida loca!”

Oh, Jack is a sad man. Jack is a weak, pathetic little man who is in love with someone that just said livin’ la vida loca unironically. Jack is a sad, sad man.

[…]

“And iguanodons,” Davey says quite seriously, with one finger raised like a very wobbly professor,“iguanodons, they walk like – like this…”

He shapes each of his hands into three-toed points and leans forward to plant them on the floor.

“Oh, no-” Jack says quickly, taking his wrists and gently pulling him upright. “No, Davey, that’s okay, don’t – don’t crawl on the floor, pal.”

Davey looks at him with the largest eyes Jack’s ever seen in his life.

“But that’s how iguanodons walk…” He says plaintively, like Jack is a monster who is stifling a very important display of science, and Jack is so pathetically gone for him that he’s almost tempted to say, ‘I’m sorry Davey, by all means crawl around on the floor like a dinosaur, I love you so much.’ Christ, he needs to skip town, go somewhere so repressed he’ll never even think about feelings again without curling up and dying of shame. Britain, maybe. Or wherever the Amish live.

“I know, bud,” Jack soothes, rubbing a hand down his back. “You, uh – you just show me later, okay? We’re going inside now.”

[…]

Right. Right. Breathe. Facts. That’s what Davey needs. Facts.

Fact one: he is currently in Jack’s bed, in Jack’s sweatpants.

Fact two: he cannot remember how he got into either Jack’s bed or Jack’s sweatpants.

Fact three: Jack is making pancakes. Shirtless. With a bit of batter stuck to his collarbone that Davey really wants to lick.

(Fact three, subheading: Davey might still be a little bit drunk)

Conclusion: Davey had literally mind-blowing sex last night while more drunk than a Baltic tide and has thus not only ruined the best friendship he’s ever had, but can’t even reminisce over the memory of it to soothe the wound. Fantastic.

#again - the iguanadon thing is a real thing that has happened.#newsies #uksies #(it's always uksies here)#pigeon scribbles #fic thoughts #loiteringandlurking #javey #davey jacobs #david jacobs #jack kelly #javid

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softie-rain · 3 months

Text

Like or Like Like

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow/Sejanus Plinth

Tags: possibly ooc - takes place two years before canon - coryo is weirdly nice - idk guys this is so lovesick and fluffy I'm not used to it

Summary: Having a crush on the handsome boy you share classes with has got to be the most embarrassing thing to happen to someone. Like, seriously: how do you hide it without failing? Or, Sejanus Plinth is caught staring at Coriolanus Snow during class.

Notes: inspired by the headcanon @incorrect-pipravi sent, which you can find here. Was supposed to be a small drabble and instead ended up 2k words (which is shorter than what I usually write anyway.)

Also damn I haven't posted my writing on tumblr since FOREVER it's been ages fr. So this is your reminder that other than bitching about coryo and sej I also write

you can read it on ao3 here

Sejanus kept staring at his reflection in the mirror, fixing his hair. He wasn’t one to usually care about his looks, as long as he looked decent enough to go out in public. But lately he felt like had to be at his best, even going as far as thinking of wearing his favorite sweatshirt (the blue one Coriolanus gave him for his fourteen birthday, he had been the only one to show up at the party he had organized), but the weather was definitely too hot for that one. Besides, the uniform was mandatory at the Academy.

“Sejanus, why are you still here? You have to hurry if you don’t want to be late!” His mother entered the room, looking at him with worry. Sejanus turned with an apologetic look.

“Don’t worry ma’. I’ll be fine.” He said. Mrs. Plinth nodded and walked over to him, patting him on his back.

“You look perfect, darling. I’m sure this secret girl you seem to like so much will adore you!”

“Ma’!” Sejanus heavily blushed, gently pushing his mother away in embarrassment. The old woman chuckled, smiling at her son.

“There’s no need to be ashamed of it. Everyone has their first crush at some point.” She said, trying to reassure her son. Sejanus wanted to laugh. Of course his mother didn’t know. There was no way she could have found out on her own, and he never said anything. She was convinced Sejanus was in love with a girl from the Academy, and he surely wasn’t going to be the one to break the news to her that said girl was actually Coriolanus Snow.

He wasn’t sure his ma’ would have minded actually. She thought Coriolanus was a good boy, and even his father appreciated him. Yet Sejanus had never told them the truth, and he wasn’t going to. Whether out of shame, or fear, it didn’t matter.

Sejanus shook his head, ignoring his mother’s comment. “I better get going now or, as you said, I’m going to be late. See you later ma’.” He said, waving at her as he walked out of the apartment.

After the short drive to the Academy he ran up the stairs rushing to get to class, even if there was no need to. They had assigned seats, he knew he'd end up sitting next to Coriolanus either way. But he also wanted to chat before class started, and Coryo always seemed to arrive awfully early, for some unknown reason.

When he finally got in the room he smiled upon noticing the curly haired boy with his head down in the textbook, probably revising for the lecture of the day. Coriolanus was a perfectionist like that, always studying, making sure everything he did was excellent, especially when it came to the Academy and his studies. Sejanus was pretty sure he had never failed one single class.

Clemensia Dovecote hadn't either, but she didn't put in half the effort Coriolanus did. Coriolanus Snow always worked much more than what was required, sometimes Sejanus wondered if it was because he wanted to be better than everyone else. Or maybe he just craved academic validation.

Either way, Sejanus thought it was extremely attractive. When he was always so carefully focused in class, and Sejanus so carefully focused on him. The way he'd bite his lip when he tried to get a particularly difficult subject, his small frown when he didn't understand something. A barely perceptible one, that he tried to hide to not show that he was confused but that Sejanus could see anyway. If he paid as much attention to the lesson as he did to Coriolanus he'd probably ace every class he took.

But Coriolanus was much more interesting than whatever Mrs. Click could ever blather about, right?

“Morning Coryo.” He greeted him, sitting next to him.

“Morning.” Coriolanus replied, without looking up from his book.

Sejanus bit his lip, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation going. “What are you reading?”

“History of Panem.”

“You don't need to revise, I'm sure you'll do great as always.” Sejanus told him, smiling, thinking he'd complimented him. But Coriolanus sighed.

“That doesn't mean I'll stop studying for the exam.” He replied coldly, probably annoyed Sejanus interrupted him. So he nodded and left him to read, at least until Professor Demigloss arrived and started his lesson.

Sejanus tried to pay attention, he really did, but his eyes were drawn in as if by magnets to Coriolanus’ beautiful blonde curls that so gracefully fell on his face. Sejanus observed as he moved them away, his blue eyes focused on the board in front of him. He also noticed as Coriolanus started chewing on his pen while listening to Demigloss’ - rather boring - explanation.

Sejanus found himself wondering what it would have been like to kiss him, to have those lips on his. Would he have bit down on Sejanus’ lips the same way he was biting down the pen? Would he have been rough, or sweet and soft?

He always assumed Coriolanus was a rough lover, but he couldn't know for sure, maybe he would-

“Mr. Plinth, I believe the board is here and not where Mr. Snow is sitting.”

The professor's voice made him snap out of his lovefool trance, and Sejanus’ head immediately turned to face Professor Demigloss, who looked rather annoyed. He felt his cheeks grow warm, and he knew he was probably the same color as his Ma’ tomatoes when they were mature. He muttered an apology and looked down at his notes-less book, too embarrassed to meet anyone's eyes.

He could hear his classmates snicker, and he knew they wouldn't easily make him forget this. But, gosh, the worst were Coriolanus’ eyes on him.

Sejanus could basically feel his gaze, burning like his stare alone was setting him on fire, and he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave the room.

The rest of the class went on painfully slowly, Sejanus could have sworn it lasted hours. As soon as Demigloss dismissed them he instantly got up, packed his bag and left, ignoring Festus calling for him and rushing out before anyone else could make fun of him. Especially Coriolanus.

Truthfully he didn't think Coriolanus would. He never joined in with the others - especially Festus and Arachne - when they talked about him behind his back or made fun of him, ever since they were kids, so he didn't see why he'd start now. Either way, Sejanus couldn't stand the confrontation to test his assumption.

He tried to ignore Coriolanus the best he could the rest of the day, and he thought he managed. But then Coryo stopped him at the Academy entrance, right when he was about to leave once all of his classes were over.

“Sejanus? Can we talk?”

Sejanus shrugged, trying to play it dumb. Maybe if he pretended nothing happened Coriolanus would forget about it. “S-sure. About what?” He said, praying his voice didn't sound as high pitched to Coriolanus as it did to him.

“Uh, the history project we have to do? I thought maybe we could work on it together.”

Sejanus sighed in relief, covering it with a cough. He cleared his throat before raising his eyebrow. “History project?”

Coriolanus nodded. “Yes. Professor Demigloss talked about it today in class. Or were you too busy staring at me to pay attention to him?” He asked, grinning.

Sejanus started blushing, his eyes widening as his mind tried to come up with some excuse or at least a way to get out of that situation. His palms were getting sweaty and he could feel the panic rising up in his chest. “Oh, uhm, no. Obviously, I was listening. I was-”

“Sej relax. I'm just teasing.” Coriolanus interrupted him, his grin only growing wider. “So? What do you say about the project?”

Sejanus thought it was weird how Coriolanus didn't seem to mind it, but definitely didn't complain. If his friend was cool about it, then he was going to be as well. He nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Of course.”

“Great. It's due tomorrow so the sooner we start working on it the better.” Sejanus gave him a short smile, agreeing with him.

“I'd suggest going over at my place, but the cleaners are around today. They’re usually very invasive, I don’t want them scooping around while we study.” He explained, sounding annoyed. Sejanus nodded, understanding his problem. He had the same struggles with his own cleaners, though usually they left him alone when he asked.

“It’s okay, I get that. Maybe we could study at my place then?” He suggested, trying not to blush again at the thought of him and Coriolanus alone in his bedroom. Coriolanus didn’t seem to notice his struggles at keeping his cool and nodded, mumbling a ‘sure’ before following Sejanus outside where his driver was waiting for him.

Sejanus spent the drive to his house in silence, hoping his mother had gone through with her plan for the day and was out shopping. He wanted to avoid any awkward meeting between her and Coryo. But of course, when they got into his apartment, there she stood in the kitchen waiting for her beloved son. “Sejanus? Is that you?” She asked, walking over to them. Her eyes slightly widened in surprise when she noticed Coriolanus with him. “Oh! I didn’t know you were going to have friends over. Hi, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus smiled at the woman. “Hello Mrs. Plinth. Sorry for intruding.” He said, giving Sejanus’ mother an apologetic look.

“Oh nonsense. I was about to leave anyway, I need to buy some new clothes for little Sej here.” She said smiling. Sejanus felt as if his skin was on fire at his ma’ words, and he could see in the corner of his eyes Coriolanus trying not to laugh.

“Okay well me and Coryo will be studying in my bedroom, see you later ma’.” He said quickly, wanting to get out of that situation as soon as possible. Once they got to his room they immediately started working on the project, neither of them wanting to waste any more time. Coriolanus shared his notes with Sejanus since he had taken none during class, too busy staring at Coryo.

The evening went on uneventfully, they spent most of it on the books with one snack break where Sejanus offered Coriolanus the cookies he had baked the day before, which the blonde boy seemed to most definitely appreciate considering the eager way he was eating them.

Sejanus was sitting on his bed while Coriolanus was at his desk, leaning on the chair. They were almost done with the school work when Coriolanus spoke. “Why were you staring at me?” Sejanus blushed and dropped his pen on the floor, immediately picking it up as if the falling object could have been a new source of embarrassment for him. “Earlier, in class.” He added, as if he needed a reminder of what Coriolanus was talking about.

“Uhm…” Sejanus didn't know what to say. He avoided the subject all day. He knew it was impossible for Coryo to forget about it so quickly but he wasn't expecting him to bring it up now either. Especially since he had sounded fine with the situation that morning.

Coriolanus must have noticed Sejanus was rather uncomfortable, because he immediately specified, “I'm not making fun of you for it. I'm just curious. Did I have something on my face?”

He was smiling, but Sejanus wasn’t sure it was meant to be a joke. More of a light comment to put him at ease. Though he didn't work he appreciated the effort, so much he thought Coriolanus deserved the truth, or at least half of it. Sejanus had never been good at lying anyway.

“No, nothing like that. Honestly? I was looking at your hair. And your eyes.” He confessed, avoiding the other's gaze.

Coriolanus frowned. “My eyes?”

“Yeah. They're very… blue. And pretty. It's like staring at the ocean, or the clear sky. Sorry, I know it's dumb. Just got caught up in my thoughts I guess.” Sejanus mumbled, drawing doodles on his hands as he tried to fight the urge to ramble out dumb excuses that would have led Coriolanus to realize he had a crush on him.

He had just admitted he thought his eyes were pretty, could it get worse than that?

Fortunately he didn't have to find out because Coriolanus simply nodded and dropped the subject. Sejanus didn't say anything either, but when he raised his eyes again and saw Coriolanus bouncing his leg nervously under the desk he could have sworn he saw his cheeks growing red, though he was clearly trying to hide it.

Sejanus smiled and looked down, going back to check his notes, when Coriolanus spoke again. “I like your eyes too.” He said, catching Sejanus by surprise.

“They're this dark brown color that gets lighter if you observe them under the sunlight. They look like milk chocolate chips.” Coriolanus commented, never once switching his position or raising his head to look at Sejanus as she talked. “I love chocolate.” He said, and it was clearly the end of their conversation on the matter.

He loves chocolate. He loves my eyes.

The thought kept playing loud in Sejanus’ head as he tried hard to stop his blushing, failing miserably. Maybe that day hadn't been so terrible after all.

#snowjanus #snowplinth #sejanus x coriolanus #coriolanus x sejanus #sejanus plinth #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

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sorastage · 10 months

Text

speechless. (lucifer x reader)

(fluff, light sw**ring, slightly mean lucifer, extreme silence)

you’ve been trading glances with everyone but him. keeping conversation with everyone but him. spending time with everyone but him.

casino nights with mammon,

gaming nights with levi,

book clubs with satan,

makeup lessons with asmo,

restaurant outings with beel,

astrology nights with belphie.

how do you have time for everyone but him?

seriously… it’s like you’re doing this on purpose!

seven days in a week, right? one day should be left for him, but you alwaaays have an excuse. do you hate him? do you think he’s annoying? should he leave you alone forever? these thoughts cloud his mind and he can’t chase them away. he wants to confront you, but his pride doesn’t allow him. but everyone has a breaking point. even the avatar of pride.

so he knocks on your door.

“come in! i’m just revising right now…” you allow this person in, not knowing that it was the one demon you wanted to avoid.

he strides straight over to you. it’s a bit scary, he doesn’t even speak! he decides to not beat around the bush, but instead take an entire flamethrower to it.

“you’ve been ignoring me. why? have i offended you in anyway? i can apologise, i can fix it, i can-” he starts assaulting you with questions, you don’t really have a chance to respond.

telling him the reason you’re ignoring him would be sooooo embarrassing though…

“oh, so the thing is. it’s not you it’s just, i’m, trying to focus on other things right now..?” you say a silent prayer to angel micheal that your feeble excuse will tide him over.

clearly micheal isn’t on your side this time.

“did you seriously think i would fall for an excuse that fucking weak.” he didn’t even bother asking that as a question, proving how much he didn’t believe you.

“tell me why you’re really ignoring me.”

you ponder for a minute.

if you tell him the reason you’ve been avoiding him is because you have a massive fucking crush on him, you would have the element of surprise. you’d be the one with the power! now all you have to do is gain the courage to verbalise your thoughts…

“b-b-because i… because i… because…” not even being able to form at least three words you hang your head in shame. you feel like a complete failure.

“because you what? stop stuttering, you sound like you’re remixing a track.”

…

what?

there was no reason for him to say that!

the wrath you suddenly feel translates to courage.

“BECAUSE I HAVE A MASSIVE CRUSH ON YOU AND I DON’T WANNA EMBARRASS MYSELF IN FRONT OF YOU! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!!?!?!?”

you shout so loudly, the three worlds can hear you. probably.

centuries pass and the tension can still be cut with a butter knife.

“oh.”

“yeah…”

he opens his mouth but no words come out - lucifer is truly speechless.

——————

had this idea in the depths of the night

i hope i’ll see you again ღ

thanks for reading ☆

#obey me gender neutral mc #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #obey me fluff #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me luci x reader #obey me luficer #lucifer om #lucifer x y/n

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Text

Anamnesis

Infected Yandere + Reader + Yandere Deity [G.N All]

Summary: “How are you feeling today?” They can't remember the last time they knew.

Warning: Mentions of Death, Dereality

Word Count: 1.2k

How are you feeling today?

The wellness board hangs centerpiece on the wall – a yellow card in each slot of the week; red, hairline fractures splintering the teeth of the smiling suns printed to image. Red Blue. Gray. Emotions tucked neatly into a holder on the wall. Vision distorted, the beginning colors bleed into one.

A picturesque life crowds the remaining space; a few stragglers cascaded to the floor, but enough left to tell a tale. Eyes shy from their reflection. The nurturement of a positive adolescence guides the object of each photo into a stable adulthood. Framed smiles, familiar embraces, and little bumps along the way display their prized memories. Memories now housed by stained floorboards long with shattered dreams and bone.

Did you know they were studying to be a doctor?

“Two on sight…. Eleven in total.”

Feeling- When was the last time they felt something? The blood on their hands has run cold, yet it’s still the same temperature as when it was warm. Guilt pounds at the door of their mind, but there isn’t anyone to answer. Gazing down at what they've taken, it's best that way. The eyes that stare back tell them as much - and yet they still mock.

Are you sure there shouldn't be a zero at the end of that number?

“Shut up. I’m not in the mood to deal with you.”

A laugh. Phantom’s touch chills their skin.

“Carrier, by now you should know that by acknowledging my presence, you’ve agreed to allow me to stay for a while. Let's talk. Get to know each other.”

The voice comes from within their own mind. Its outline dances on the edge of their field of view; gone – not matter what angle they took. It was more a blessing rather than curse when its silhouette eluded their sight. The less they saw, the less they knew which meant the more of themself they had to regain.

Carrier- Is that who they are today? They’ve been worse. Family, friend - nobody.

The trembling of their hand steels to an iron grip around their weapon. Torn flesh births its blade from a deep wound in the neck of the corpse below them. The body clings to its death bringer, but falls limp as its ripped away. Their eyes point up to the ceiling; two violet drops in a crimson sea. A shame their true color would be lost to time. Carrier reaches towards their eyelids.

“wait.”

They freeze.

“Stick your finger in.”

They obey. Against any reason they had left, Carrier pushes their fingers into the open eye. It's wet, covered with a slimy film. Pinching their fingertips together, they pull something free; purple enveloping the pad of their thumb.

It's a contact.

This time, there's a dull sting when the laughter returns.

“Poor thing.. Just wanted to dress to impress and got killed for it. Then again, it's what they deserve for trying to impress the one you love, isn’t it?”

“Don’t mention them.” They want to scream. “Don't make me remember.”

It's so hard to think, it's hard to remember when there’s a parasite toying with your brain. Latching on to, and rewriting your memories until it’s a ghost of your past and all that is your future. The only thing that eases the pain is having little to look back on to begin with.

“You have to be the most selfish Carrier I've ever had. Others would have spread my name by now to know peace. Do they really mean that much to you?”

Be quiet. Carrier flees the bloody room as breezily as taking a night stroke. Every alternating step, their footfalls echo by another.

“Though your silence reads many tales, I already know how special they are. I've seen your memories afterall, most anyway. They’re probably the only thing keeping you alive given your history. What beautiful laughter….”

Carrier shoves the emerging memory to the back of their mind; beating it into submission every time it crawls back. Seriously, did this thing never shut up? They descend the approaching stars; tail rattling with the vibrations that stem all the way from their pocket. Without even thinking, they pulled their phone from their pocket and hastily swept at the familiar ringtone, prints foreign to censor. You'd probably scold them for not getting their screen repaired by now. They’d promise you they would get it done by last week. You probably remembered the promise better than they did. You'd… probably hate them for what they've done. Who they've become. Shit…

“Hello?”

Their phone tumbles down the steps. When.. When had they answered the phone? The voice on the other end reaches them from the bottom floor. Your voice calls out to them; laced with worry, just like it had been when they were sprawled out on the ground after a run in with a flying sports ball. The nurse said they were differently concussed, but with an attentive partner like you they would be fine. You didn't even know each other's name. It was a good laugh.

Stop.

The emotions hit them like a truck. A nausea worse than the one given to them after getting food poisoning at a fair. How could they ever hold your hand like that again when they’re covered in so much blood?

“Carrier.. You shouldn't keep them waiting~”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

That voice is so irritating. Just like every other voice they've ever heard, except one. The parasite has been with them their entire life, though it feels like mere months. Spreading, consuming every god damn memory they had until it was all they had left. A starving infection created from a being once worshipped by many; now forgotten and grasping for any hold on their reality by ridding its prey of all thoughts but itself. It had told them as such, considering they'd be together for a long time. The voice at the bottom of the steps would make sure of it.

“Hello?”

There was one thing keeping them from the edge. A persisting presence that stopped them from losing their mind or rotting from the inside out like so many others before them. Soul cleansing. Irreplaceable warmth. And most important- unaware of the deity in their head.

“Y/n?.. Is that you?… I'm here… Please.. say my name.”

“Erys?”

They sink to the floor, whole at last. Erys wipes their face. “Yeah.. it's me..”

Your voice crackles over the speaker. “I would hope so, considering its your phone and all. Anyway, the person I met at the party last week bailed on me. I was hoping to introduce you to them since you have similar contacts. Wanna hang out?”

Hatred has never felt so flourishing. The disgust they felt for the person upstairs only brewed more love for you. Their unjust sins roll down their spine with twisted righteous What was done, was done. Innocent blood may have been spilled, but who’s to say it wouldn’t become one day tainted.

“You're a terrible human being.”

The voice is barely above a whisper.

“You'll never have them. Someday, by slip of tongue you will mention me, and I will take them, and make them immortal.”

The warning nails deep, but the weight upon their shoulders finally dies. From the living room, a tiny whimper can be heard; weak pounds against the back door. Erys quietly steps into the room. Their pleading, violet eyes won't trick anyone.

“I'll never let you take them from me…”

How are you feeling today?

A sunny week the whole way through.

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere god #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere drabble #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

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izloveshorses · 6 months

Text

Let Your Heart Be Light

holiday modern au, 1.7k. when anya gets to be the grump this time dmitry has to cheer her up <3

Anya huffed as she slammed the door behind her. She fumbled with her scarf, hat, gloves, coat, tripped from her boots, and left it all in a wet, dripping heap on the floor.

She hadn’t called her boyfriend before coming over, but had let herself in his apartment anyway, since he’d given her a key and everything, so she made herself comfortable on his couch without saying a word.

Minutes later, there was the noise of the lock turning and Dmitry was stomping his shoes dry. “Anya?” he called, perhaps confused by the sight of her coat in a heap at the door. “You here?”

“In the living room,” she answered without much more elaboration.

He made his way around the couch and he finally found her on her side with her head on the armrest. “Hey,” Dmitry’s smile melted her heart, just a little. On a good day he could put the sun to shame. His hair was disheveled from the walk home, cheeks flushed from the cold, his hoodie a little crooked, his smile moreso, smelling like snow and clove. “This is a surprise.” He settled on the couch behind her, their usual cuddle spot after a long day. She did her best to maintain her fowl mood she was determined to cling onto. But he was rather warm. Perhaps she could snuggle a little closer to him. “To what do I owe this occasion?”

Anya sighed. “I’ve officially broken up with Christmas.”

He snorted. “Oh no!”

“I’m serious. We’re so over. I’ve decided I hate the cold, and the music, and the crowds. Everyone is too cheerful.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged. “It was just a really bad day.”

“I don’t think one bad day warrants such extreme actions,” he reasoned, tone playful. Teasing was usually the trick that cheered her up, but she wasn’t in the mood right now. “Especially something you’ve adored since before I’ve known you.”

It was true. She was Hallmark Movie Crazy about the holiday season, always had been. She loved buying gifts for everyone, watching the Christmas classics, going ice skating in the park, baking for her neighbors. Basically every cliche you could think of, Anya participated in. She never understood why anyone could be grumpy at this time of year. Until today.

Dmitry’s fingers dug into her side in an attempt to tickle, another trick that normally lightened her mood, but she smacked his hand away. “Watch it, Sudayev.”

“Sorry,” he said, but he was still laughing. “But seriously. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Anya took a deep breath. “Nothing big, but like— you know how when all the little things just add up? And make the day terrible? And you feel like a toddler about to dissolve into a tantrum?”

“Yeah. That’s always rough.”

“Right. Like— I spilled my coffee and didn’t have time to change or buy a new one, so there goes five bucks.”

“Oof.”

“And then I was late getting to work anyway, which is never a good way to start the day. And we had all these meetings so I didn’t get to finish my work before I had to leave, and the printer was broken, and my lunch box leaked, and someone sent me a rude email again—”

“Was it that one guy from sales?”

“Yeah, the same guy.”

“I hate him. Want me to fight him for you?”

“I might fight him if he writes ‘as previously stated’ one more time.”

That made Dmitry laugh. His cheek was cold against her neck, but his body was so irresistibly warm she wondered if his mere presence would lull her to sleep. “Geez. You can’t catch a break.”

“And then! My usual metro line was down again, so I had to take a bus, but there was so much traffic from holiday shoppers that it took twice as long to get uptown, and I lost a glove, and at that point I didn’t even want to go to the store and cook dinner anymore.”

Dmitry was rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. “And then you came here.”

“Because I didn’t want to go home to my empty apartment and get all mad again.”

“Did you want me to cheer you up?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I just kinda feel like eating in and watching TV.”

“Fair.” He was quiet for a minute. He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping away, and Anya assumed the conversation was over. Maybe she might actually fall asleep. Until, “I know what will make you feel better. Come on,” Dmitry stood abruptly, stretching, and she was immediately annoyed by the lack of his warm body against her back. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Somewhere fun.”

Anya refused to get up. “If it involves going out there again,” she pointed to the door, “you’re going to have to pay me.”

“You’ll love it.”

“No.”

Dmitry sat again, now at her feet, still trying. “They opened the Tuileries winter market today. They’re selling warm drinks and everything. Don’t you want to go see the pretty lights? Do something a little Christmas-y?”

Anya knew she was being stubborn. That was the thing— stubbornness wasn’t exactly a pleasant trait, but, unlike others who suffered from this gene, she was aware of the flaw. Her self awareness made this at least a little more tolerable. And, frankly, she earned the right to not want to get up from this old couch after such a day. Even if she knew she was being difficult to her very lovely and very patient boyfriend. “Christmas lights can’t erase today. I’m forever jaded.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

She sat up, really looking at him, trying to figure out the angle he was playing. “I thought you hated that kind of stuff.”

“Hate’s a strong word. I’m no Scrooge.”

It wasn’t like he was never cheerful, but Dmitry wasn’t exactly the jolly type, either. Anya was usually the one dragging him to holiday events. He happily joined her, of course, but she could tell he only played along just for her sake. Anya jumped at any chance to celebrate the season, from a themed party at their favorite bar to her grandmother’s Christmas dinner to shopping in the holiday section at the bookstore. Dmitry would choose to stay comfortable at home with just the two of them any day. Not that that was a bad thing, of course. So this behavior— him being the one to actively search for a not-cheap Christmas activity in town to participate in— was rather suspicious. “But you always say they overcharge.”

“They do, but,” he bent down and kissed her cheek, “you like these things. And I like you. And I hate seeing you so glum more than I hate spending money.”

That made her smile. “How romantic.”

He mirrored her, kissing her nose. “Come on, Anya. It’ll be good for you to do something cheery and out of your usual routine. If you’re too tired and cold after an hour, we can come back here, and I’ll make us dinner and some boozy hot chocolates, I promise. Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t a scout.”

He just tilted his head, playfully and patiently exasperated.

“Fine.” His grin widened, but she held up a finger. “You get one hour. And I get to complain about the snow and the commute as much as I want.”

He kissed her then. “That’s my girl.”

They bundled up and braved the December weather, and as promised, Anya grumbled the whole way, and to her frustration Dmitry only smiled and gave her a spare pair of gloves and zipped her coat up to her chin. The ride to the park wasn’t very long so they arrived just as the sun was setting. Dmitry paid for their steaming cups of mulled wine without a fuss and they made their way through the gate, weaving through vendors and children running around, until they found a path of twinkling string lights to walk through.

With Dmitry’s hand in hers and a warm beverage in the other, it wasn’t so bad. The snowfall was less icy and bitter and more fluffy and sweet, Anya admitted to herself, and the lights were rather pretty. It was hard to focus on the frustrations of her day when there were so many delighted smiles walking around and the cheerful carols in the air. Dmitry was rambling mindlessly about his own day at work, talking about the technicalities of this new recipe he got to try, how maybe the head chef might let him take the lead on a dish for a critic tomorrow. And then he would whisper something funny against her cheek, earning a laugh, and. Okay. Maybe today wasn’t all bad.

“Could you take our picture?” he asked one stranger, offering his phone, just before they were about to step under a canopy of lights.

Anya raised her eyebrows up at him, surprised. He grinned as he adjusted his beanie, like he knew he was behaving a bit strange. But they posed and smiled, and when he kissed her cheek she laughed, and they carried on with their walk.

“You’re being a little gross today,” she commented, earning a laugh from him.

“Just trying to cheer you up.”

She tilted her head up at him.

“Is it working?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

He turned to face her. Checking. Showing his hand. His smile was still playful, but his eyes shifted into something softer, something a little more serious. “You ready to head back?”

She looked around, taking in the scene around them. “In a few more minutes.”

His eyes searched hers for a minute, studying, making sure. “Okay.” His hands ran up and down her arms as if to warm her up. Always taking care of her, subconsciously or not. “I just hate to see you and your favorite holiday in a fight after just one lousy day.”

She ducked her head. “I think we’re on good terms now,” she admitted, meeting his eye again. “Thanks to you.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Good.”

She stood on her toes to kiss him and he met her halfway, his nose cold against her cheek, all smiles and snow and clove and cinnamon.

Not a bad day. Maybe even a good one.

#dimya #fanfiction #my writing #anastasia broadway #anastasia #drabble #this is very silly but we need to not make everything so deep and heavy every time i type something asdhkjfkdgh #and we needed a little daydream to think about at work #so #here <3 #mayhaps this is attached to the joyeux noel fic idk

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