#but i never felt frustrated or felt like it was pointless or a waste of my time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrollohearttags · 1 year

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blow me like a candle • e. jaeger

Eren was never really a fan of parties or celebrating birthdays at all for that matter but (y/n) knows just the trick to make his special day one worth remembering.

cw: black fem reader, musician eren x influencer reader, oral sex (m/f receiving, he eats ass for like .1 seconds 😭), food play, squirting, toy use, public play, aggressive eren, mentions of car sex, masturbation, choking, overstim, kitchen sex, pet names, cumshot, breeding, (princess, daddy, baby)

wc: 4.1k

📝: y’all know I couldn’t let baby boy’s special day pass without doing something for my fav ship! Hope y’all enjoy. Happy belated to my beloved!

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“And who all did you invite?” “Just a few friends, that’s all.” “Get to naming or I’m not going.”

the expected banter between you and your fiancé had been going on for nearly an hour now. All this amid your preparations and planning for the one day a year that you’d have to all but force him to take it off.

“For real, EJ? It’s your own damn birthday party. How you not gone go?” Smacking your lips in pure frustration at your man. Honestly, you shouldn't be too surprised when dealing with someone so stubborn and ornery. For the three years that you had been together, March thirtieth seemed to be a day of dread rather than enjoyment for the disgruntled musician. Fans had already begun flooding his inbox, comments and mentions with love, adoration and fan edits of the man who brought them a plethora of hits over the years. Some even consider him the sole reason they were even on this planet. Celebrating the life of EJ the Don..you were scrambling all week, planning a party for him in secrecy, hoping to surprise the rapper but with a bit of digging and zero resolve from his assistant, he quickly discovered your plan and voided it immediately. While everyone else was showering him with love and hoping to make his twenty eighth trip around the sun a happy one, Eren was too busy being glued to his next online match and dismissing any and all talk about some extravagant party. Including his own wife to be!

“Because (y/n), it’s pointless. A bunch of people who don’t even fuck with me on a regular day, running in my face and being annoying. Why should I spend my day in a loud restaurant or looking at Jean’s ugly ass mug when I could sit right here, kick my feet up, play some COD…..” His words trailing off while pulling you toward him with a gentle grasp on your wrist. “And eat frosting off your ass. Is that too much for a man to ask?” You’d all but dismissed him, rolling your eyes as he burst into laughter. It was obvious he wasn’t going to make this easy. “I’m serious though, princess. There’s just no use in wasting time or money on something like this. I’m happy right here with you.” At the end of the day, it was his decision. But a last ditch effort at guilt tripping couldn’t hurt! Folding your arms over your chest, (y/n) pushed your lip into a pout, giving him those glaring brown eyes. The ones he could never resist or say no to. Truthfully, you wanted him to have a nice time and gather all of the people who cared about him in one place. For once, let him be the one taken care of..

“I get it, I’m sorry..” “it’s fine, I just rather—“ but before he could finish his sentence, you began in on your little tirade and even threw a few tears in to make it plausible. “I mean, I just wanted you to have a good day, that’s all..I guess it really doesn’t matter.” In the midst of your little tirade, his smile would quickly fade into a look of confusion. Now he felt bad! Here you were planning and expending all of this energy into a gathering, spending your own money and resources to give him an amazing night and he’d rather spend it playing some stupid game. Unbelievable! Refusing to see his baby upset, regardless of his better judgment, Eren released a huff and got up to console you. “Calm down, princess..alright, you win. I’ll go.” Just then, that seemingly somber glare turned to one of pure excitement! “You mean it?! Oh my goodness, I’m so happy!—“ but there was one minor stipulation he wanted to attach to this little acceptance offer. In mere seconds, that deviant grin was back plastered across his handsome face and you couldn’t help but get the sneaking suspicion that something insane was swirling around in that big ass head of his. “One condition.” The only words he uttered to grab your attention. Cradling your waist tightly and running his hand across the lower part of your stomach. “I’ll go to your party, because I know you worked so hard planning it. BUT…there is something you have to do for me..” just then, you’d freeze in his clutch, wondering what exactly this man had in mind. Granted, he would’ve been perfectly content with just you, a blunt and his PlayStation but since you were all but forcing him to participate in this little charade, he might as well be entertained while going and he knew just the trick to doing so! “What is it?…” but alas, you wouldn’t receive your answer right away. Just as you had done for him, you’d let his mind wander and contemplate what could be. Walking off towards the kitchen after parting with a peck to the cheek, Eren just burst into laughter at the thought of his own sinister plot. “ ‘EJ, stop playing. What is it?”

“I’ll tell you just like you told me..it’s a surprise.” And suddenly, you knew the next few days of anticipation of what was up his crafty little sleeve.

it wouldn’t be until the night of his much anticipated soirée that you’d find out just what he was up to! By that time, it was too late and he had surely set you up! Because what other way..what gift would be greater than to force (y/n) into sporting a controlled vibrator for the duration of the event?! Underneath your shimmery designer, thigh length dress and thin pink panties lay a discreetly hidden device..shoved inside of you and controlled by his hands. Even with the promise of wanting to do anything to make his special day the best and just genuinely happy, you couldn’t believe that this was his request! Coupled with the fact that he didn’t want to be around all of these people anyways? You were certainly in for a hell of a night. Forcing him to do social interaction; the one thing he despises most on his birthday…this was karma! So as you sat by his side at Casa Tua..across from a table of his peers as they poured alcohol and sang his praises, he was casually tapping away at his screen, tormenting you with each passing second. That silicone mashed up against your mound and whirled around in your flesh. Tiny shocks of stimulation sporadically hitting your clit. Gifts and wrapped packages surrounded the table, lavender ambience lighting scattered above you and your company as he swirled his thumb pad around and drove up the frequency, making it nearly impossible for you to keep your composure. “..you’re the worst.” “You did say you’d do whatever I wanted.” To which you had no choice but to agree. No matter how flustered you were, clenching your thighs together and chewing at your lip. Everyone around you cackling, bantering among themselves. Meanwhile, you’d keep your hands entangled around his arm, clutching each time he hit another pulse. Trying to shield your face from being spotted. “No need to hide that pretty face..let everybody see how much you’re enjoying this.” Snickering from behind his palm as he gave that small dot another spin and watched you peel over once more; clutching his arm in the process. However, he was unphased and continued sipping at his champagne flute full of Moët. That smirk riddled across his face. He only wanted you to cave so that he could inevitably risk you away but your pride wouldn’t allow it. After having made your little spectacle and pleading the case as to why he needed to be drug out of the house, you were going to pay for this!

“..why don’t you moan a lil’ bit for me, baby? Tell me how good that feels inside of you..” It was at that exact moment, the waiter began dispersing meals around the table and neither of you could focus on the delectable dishes in front of you for the fact that the only thing you wanted was to devour each other! Eren was growing farther aroused and impatient by the second. Wishing he could tear you out of that dress that had your titties looking so juicy stuffed up in it. That made the curvature of your plump ass sit just right and of course, there was that beautiful face…one he wanted to fuck relentlessly until you stained his dick with that sticky gloss. “Or better yet..say the magic words and I’ll make it stop.” All the while taunting you with higher frequencies..whispering in that low deep tone that always drove you mad with lust. Whimpering through muffled lips, (y/n) cradled your face into his shoulder blade and to play it off, he’d coil a hand around your back when the server made his way to your side. “Had a little too much to drink..lightweights.” Chuckling with the man before he walked off. Buying you a bit more time as you rutted your dripping cunt against that toy. Staining the seat of your panties in that slick…a mess he had to see for himself. Luckily for the both of you, everyone was a bit preoccupied with their own side conversations to notice that he was discreetly tugging back your thong and exposing that swollen clit to the cool elements. “…I bet you want to let it out so bad, don’t you? Ride my fingers instead…or better yet…” just then, you’d feel his middle and ring fingers swirling your swollen bud, eliciting a gasp from you. “I can give you this dick. Whatever you want, princess. All you have to do is say it. Don’t be so stubborn..” that smug look had turned into a full blown grin because he was getting an absolute thrill out of all of this. The longer you waited, the further you prolonged your own orgasm. There was no point in pretending you could handle it. “ ‘Ren..” “Say it.” So reluctantly but eventually…you’d cave! In a shrill moan, still cradling his forearm through his white button down, you’d utter the one phrase he was looking for:

“…take me home.”

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thirty minutes later

after having abandoned the restaurant and all of your unsuspecting friends, the two of you jetted out of the eatery; his arm cradling you as he carried you from the establishment. From there, his plan was in motion. Funny enough, the two of you had devised your escape plan in the event that you couldn’t hold out; under the guise that you had fallen ill after one too many glasses of liquor. Putting on one hell of an act, so much so, an Oscar should’ve been seated next to his five Grammys. Either way, it worked and once valet wrangled his red McLaren to the forefront of the building, you were out of there! The brief drive home was equally as thrilling as the rush you got from potentially being caught. Whilst he maneuvered the wheel, trying to get you guys home quickly, you’d indulge him from the passenger’s seat; legs parted to either side, facing him whilst playing with that pretty pussy. Gently rubbing on yourself to release that tension building in your body. In the confines of this car, you were free to scream as loudly as possible, say whatever you please. Pumping those digits in and out, creaming all over them as you moaned for the man responsible. Even squirting and drenching his leather interior, which brought a big smile to his face. “You’re so fucking sexy, oh my god…”

so it came as no surprise when you got through the front door of your home, things only escalated…whisking you around whilst making out. Pinning you against the wall with his knee parting your thighs. Eren slid those nimble digits between your folds… whimpering and grunting against your lips. Tugging your top down and sucking on your nipples. Ravaging every inch of your body he could get his hands on..those tattooed fingers pinching, pulling and spanking you as he saw fit. Who needed two hundred dollar dinners when he could devour you as he saw fit? Naturally, it was only fitting that he take you to the kitchen, set you atop the counter and really start the party..no pun intended!

“Open those fucking legs, hurry up.” From the switch of tone in his voice, you knew for certain he was done playing these games. All night, he had been watching you strut in that tight little two piece..teasing him and practically begging for him to get that pussy. How envious he was of that Lush Vibrator being buried deep in your greedy little cunt. He could’ve had it all a lot sooner had you just let him stay home, now..it was time to put his claim on it. Not wasting another second of his precious time, (y/n) parted those thighs as far as you could spread them and held them in place with your palms. Gripping the thick of that ass and staying steady for him. It was a beautiful sight.. “..Eren, baby. I need it so bad. I need that dick..” desperately declaring as you watched him strip himself of his own clothing. “I know, baby. I got you..” Your panties tugged to the side by a finger hooked around the material and heels dangling in the air. Trust, he wanted to fulfill your desire for the both of you but there was one thing he needed before doing so. See, he had plans all night of how he wanted to go about this…the fantasy plaguing his perverted mind for days. With his shirt finally unfastened, he’d toss it to the floor, starting on his belt next as he beelined for the fridge. You already looked absolutely delectable and divine, but this would just set it over the top. When he retrieved his sought after item, you’d smirk and begin laughing when you saw what he had. “First though, let me have a lil’ taste of you.” Brandishing in his hand a canister of whipped frosting, Eren removed the top and tilted it downward, leaving a few little dots on your neck, nipples..along with a trail going down your exposed stomach. Even leaving a few on your asscheeks. Pink confectionery laden across your beautiful dark skin..it was the sweetest treat he could ask for. Bending down, he’d grasp your chin lightly and shove his tongue into your mouth, flinging it around as you engaged in sloppy kisses. It was almost criminal how badly he wanted you..cupping your breasts in your palms, you’d watch him closely as he lowered his head to begin lapping up those tiny piles of frosting. Slowly, he’d twirl his tongue around your perky mocha nipples; softly suckling them off. (Y/N) trailed those freshly done nails through his hair. Those narrowing eyes glaring at him as he glided down your body.

“Mmphm!” Sharply exhaling in reaction to his careful movements. He could tell that you were thoroughly enjoying this little display of foreplay. “I’ve been waiting all night for this..” Slowly but surely swiping up the sugary trail, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you. It wasn’t until he reached your mound did he pick up that can once more and dot your clit with the same substance. “Let me see your hands, baby?” Cooing to you in that sweet tone as he intertwined your fingers and shifted his focus to your slit, slurping on those delightful juices; stirred up by all the teasing. The mixture of your natural taste and that subtle sweetness of that frosting intermeshed for a delicious flavor. He was in absolute bliss at the moment, enjoying every bit of that body that he had been denied all evening. Because of that, he was going to ensure that he ate your pussy until his jaws locked up. For his own pleasure and you could come, cry and whatever else you felt necessary but this was his right now. “Hnghhh!! ‘Ren…oh shit. Right there..eat this pussy..” He’d continue on, spitting down into those folds and your entrance, being stretched open by his two free fingers. Whilst the two of you held hands, he’d greedily feast, making loud moaning noises and vibrating against your plump lips. Soon, he’d turn his attention to your decorated backside and licked it clean; gently flicking his tongue across your asshole momentarily. By this time, your nectar was trickling down his chin and even to his throat; that bobbing Adam’s apple jumping as he drank in your divine mixture. Eren was so enamored that he didn’t want to come up for air even..only to praise you for doing so good for him. “Keep putting in my face, princess..mmm, fuck..” meanwhile, you had no idea just how hard you had gotten him through the concealment of those pants. Hearing the sounds of your smacking wetness and little voice calling out for him. He’d proceed to tongue fuck and give you insurmountable pleasure, so much so that you reached another orgasm, but it was right before you could make it to a third did he cease and come up for air. His mouth and cheeks eventually stained in that syrupy sex. “C’mere..” demanding in a breathy wind as he clutched your throat and meshed your mouths together.

with the opposite set of digits, he’d undo the button of his black pants and tug his boxers down his waistline. That thick cock; swollen and throbbing with desire for you. “I want you so bad…want you so fucking bad..” by this time, becoming quite needy as he gripped his shaft and drug it across that aching cunt. Glaring with watchful eyes, (y/n) nibbled at your bottom lip in anticipation and Eren had no plans to keep you waiting for long! “..Take it…” “..give me that pussy. Open it up f’r me..” using your fingers to part that pretty slit open and seconds later, his tip made home inside of you.. “f-fuck!” Normally, he’d be gentle and all for going slow..taking his time but after being edged along for teased, he was about to tear your shit up! The initial sensation catching him up a bit until he gained a rhythm and the two of you finally found yourselves in sync. That leg draped over his shoulder and shook as he began to thrust. In and out..feeding you a couple deep ones, only to draw out some of that silky cream. Pumping until he was able to fit half way. “..you gonna let me have this pussy, baby? You can take more, I know you can. ‘S so tight..” baiting you along with that sweet charm, all while choking you out for added stimulation. He didn’t let you take your eyes off of him for one second, wanting to see each of those beautiful reactions. Even when you began to shed a small tear and whimper. “You can take this dick f’r me, can’t you? Let me put that shit in your stomach? That’s the only gift I want..” “..mmmm..yeah. I can take it, daddy. Give it to me!” Begging him to increase his speed and beat your shit sore if that’s what he desired. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long before he hit his stride. You’d find yourself clutching the sides of that countertop, bracing yourself for that brutal pounding. The sounds of your rough love making ringing throughout the room, all that passion and affection coursing between your sweat riddled bodies. “Right there, right there! Please don’t stop, ‘Ren! I’m gonna come.” That much apparent by the tight clutch of your cunt around his shaft. That milky white sheath coating him…but he knew what was coming next and he couldn’t wait to feel it. So much so, he’d massage your clit and bait you on.

“Squirt on this dick then..come all over it..” Coaxing out that sticky rain as he swiped his fingers across your bud and let it spray his lower abdomen. Your body shook violently in reaction to that pent up orgasm. The third one you’d experienced tonight and you weren’t sure how many more you could handle. However, your husband-to-be was going to put it to the test! “Thaaat’s my girl. But you’re not done..I know you got more.” Gritting his teeth and grunting in your ear. Giving you only seconds to adjust before folding you yet again and doubling down, folding you into a bit of a mating press to really pound your pussy. “AHH! Fuck, fuck…” making you yelp in an excessively high pitched voice as your skin smacked and collided in a fury. His entire pelvis soaked in slick as he slammed those full balls against your backside. The two of you were making a beautiful, aggressive, mess…letting him have all of you was more than he could ask for on a day like this! Soon though, you wouldn’t be the only one reaching climatic bliss as you felt him swelling up inside of that tight womb. “Imma—imma nut in that fucking pussy!” “Come in me, ‘Ren! Nut in this pussy, daddy!” Emptying his sack shortly thereafter and letting the remnants spill into you. Both of you releasing ear shattering cries simultaneously.. “..oh my God..” “..oh shit.”

even so, that still wasn’t all he had in the tank! Once he pulled out, letting the pulsating shaft hit the cool air; withdrawing from your sore warmth to give it a break. “..yeah, I need that throat now. Clean me off, baby.” And you were thrilled to oblige! Helping you to the floor, placing you on your knees, Eren positioned himself in front of you and kept that hair reigned back as he let you work your magic. “..you’re so fucking pretty..gone let me fuck this face..” just in pure awe of how gorgeous you looked, despite being put through the wringer by him. With tear stained eyes and running makeup, you’d laugh and ask that he pass you the frosting. Now it was his turn to be devoured and sucked up. The best finish to an already wonderful night. You were so thankful that he whisked you away from that party now! Tilting that canister up, you’d spray a single line across his aching cock and quickly slide your tongue across it shortly thereafter. “Mmmmm..yeah..see how good you taste?” Nodding your head as you began bobbing it back and forth. Cleaning up your mixture of cum and the pink cream splattered all over his lower half. You didn’t even need hands..taking him to the hilt in the back of your throat only moments after beginning. Eventually, you’d start implementing twisting palms and drawing out not only more of his moans but the remainder of that nut as well. “Are you going to come for me?..come all in this mouth?” Fluttering those adorable eyes that made him weaker than he already was. (Y/N) would open your mouth wider, preparing yourself to be drenched in that warm seed. You knew he couldn’t withstand it much longer. That thumping was growing by the millisecond and as you’d twist him around in your palms..”OHHH! FUCK…”

you’d find yourself absolutely saturated in that hot white semen. Covering your face, mouth and titties..to which you’d proudly parade with a wide smile on your face. Wiping it clear from your eyes with his thumb, Eren would lean down and give you the biggest kiss he had mustered all night. He couldn’t believe the aftermath of what you two had created. But you both could do nothing but burst into laughter..

“Damn..kinda went overboard, huh?”

“You think so?” regardless, his happiness was your main concern and giving him the best present a man could ask for. He couldn’t imagine celebrating any other way!..grasping your chin once more, he couldn’t help but to keep showering you with pecks, even after swallowing his cum.

“Hey..happy birthday, baby..” Knowing that dinners, expensive gifts..whatever, nothing else could top this.

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glitchtricks94 · 7 months

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did you know that gyutaro kisses your knuckles but his pointy teeth accidentally scrape you. every time it happens, he grumbles and insists on kissing it better :3 (you are stuck in an infinite loop of him kissing you better)

Reece, darling, I don't think you fully understand how much I needed this. After the last few days, I honestly feel like this is just what my poor little brain needed. I'm sorry I'm taking so long with all the other goodies you sent me. I'm making something fluffy now with this.

Gyutaro tries to be a gentleman like he's seen with the humans, trying to treat you the way he felt you should be, which was like royalty. He knew he wasn't much, or at least he felt that way, but he had given you his heart, and you gave him yours in return and he had to ensure that he cared for it with the upmost importance. He would only discard your heart if you became a threat to him and his sister. Which is why a mix of frustration and guilt bubbled away in his chest. Gyutaro had decided to try his hand at being more romantic, greeting you when you stepped out of your work room to the private area that he and Daki had made within the Kyogoku house. "Welcome back, little star." Gyutaro crooned, a lazy Cheshire smile on his features as he took your much smaller hand in his. He held it for a moment as you chirped your greetings back to your love, the Upper Moon distracted by how tiny and soft your hand felt in his. Such puny fingers slotting against his own calloused hands, filling the spaces between his own fingers in a cute and clumsy yet still perfect manner. His gaze softened further, smile smoothing at the edges as he moved his attention to your face, your eyes granting the warmth he had always craved for all his years of living. You felt like home. He couldn't stall any longer, the moment felt to perfect to waste on more pointless words. Gyutaro was never really for pretty words anyways, actions always rang louder for him. He tugged you closer by accident as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your knuckles- "Ow-!" He froze, eyes going wide as your soft yelp registered in his mind. You looked slightly pained, yet didn't shove him away. The demon frowned as his eyes flicked to your hand, the sight of little dots of blood greeting him. "M'sorry, little star, didn't mean to hurt ya." He grumbled, instinctively pressing more kisses to the wound. He had told you he liked when you kissed where his wounds were whenever he got hurt, despite the regeneration, and he wanted to return the favor to you. You always did say he gave you the best kisses of your life. Gyutaro unwittingly added more damage to your skin, trying to kiss the pain away but only making you whimper. He pulled away with a growl, to which you sprung into action, seeing his frustration coming to a boil. "Gyu, sweetie, it's okay." You cooed, his attention flicking to you instantly. "Why don't we go bandage up my hand, yeah? You can help me with that, right?" Gyutaro nodded, but refused to let your hand go, deciding to skip the bandaging and simply utilize his abilities. Slowly sliding his thumb over your now marred, petal soft skin, the injuries faded, amazing you.

He felt disappointed at his failed attempt, something you noticed immediately. Running your free hand down his arm, you trailed your touch to his other hand, the Upper Moon eying you curiously. Taking his hefty hand in yours, you brought it to your own lips, planting one of your infamously tender kisses to his cold skin. His heart leapt to his throat, face heating up at your gesture. He felt a tinge of jealousy in himself too, wishing he could be as smooth with his idea of romance as you were, and yet, you always managed to reduce such thoughts to dust. "I love you Gyutaro, and it was really sweet of you to kiss my hand." You spoke softly, looking up at him like he had hung the moon and stars. In your opinion, who didn't need them since you consider him to be your night sky. "You're always so sweet and romantic, constantly trying to look out for me and make sure I'm happy. I love you for that." Gyutaro felt himself melting under your honeyed words, his soft smile and loving gaze returning to his sharp features as he leaned further into your space. "I love you too, little star. You always know just what to say to me, what I need to hear, not what I want to, what I expect to. You truly are a star from the sky, love." He crooned, making your own smile widen as you stood on your toes to press a love infused kiss to his chapped lips, the gesture being returned instantly. This time, he made sure to really watch his teeth.

#glitchwrites.notepad #glitchfriends.reece💜#demon slayer x reader #gyutaro #gyutaro x reader #kny gyutaro #demon slayer gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro fluff #demon slayer fluff #kny x reader #kny fluff #This was a nice thing to write tonight #It's soft and sweet and really need that since I'm tired and feeling soft #Plus hands can have such neat meanings #Twining fingers are so intimate and the cheesy romantic aspect of a hand kiss is cute #Thank you so much Reece #This means a lot to me

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wishluc · 11 months

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More thoughts on the Obey Me Shared Darling Au (OMSDAU?). This has a focus on the demon brothers—the beginning of it all. -🧵

There was something...odd about the brothers' behavior lately.

Flickering glances following your every move. Hushed whispers behind closed doors. Sounds of something heavy being moved about...And a potent cloud of magic hanging in the air.

You are only able to imagine what they are planning, but that alone was enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck sitting at high alert. Inquiries were pointless. Conversations looped back to where they began. Time was spent wasted in this purgatory of back and fourth. Of questions and non-answers.

Paranoia began to weigh on you. Weary and exhausted, it came as no surprise when fatigue finally caught up to you. As you drifted off into a deep and tired slumber, you began to wonder if perhaps that was their plan all along.

You had waken in your own room. Your own bed. Everything was perfectly normal; nothing was out of place. Your shoes, which you had kicked off haphazardly the night before, were still scattered across your floor. The book you had been reading was on your nightstand right where you had left it. Everything is as it was.

But this is not your bedroom.

It was Lilith's.

If it weren't for the densely packed magic in the air, perhaps you wouldn't have noticed. The room had been augmented with a variety of spacial enchantments. Lucifer's handiwork, no doubt.

A nauseous sensation washed over your body as you attempted a teleportation spell.

You tried a different spell, and a splitting headache tore into you.

Another spell. You felt something crawling under your skin.

You try again. Phantom water pools in your lungs.

Again. Tremors shake your body.

Again. Your leg cramps and you fall.

Again. Footsteps?

Again. A door creaks open.

Again. You look up blearily at the seven shadows in front of you.

Again. Your vision begins to fade.

OMSDAU I think works? Yeah? I'll make a tag for it! I stuck to detailing more with Mammon, Levi and Beel here! Will delve into the others next time :D

Initially, you believed their increasingly concerning dependency on you was because of their lack of...social connections. There's only so much they want to tell each other, and so much they could tell Diavolo and the other exchange students, right? You just happened to grow closer with them than the others, and obviously, having a new friend would entail them telling you about all their issues and dragging you along on every little misadventure. Surely, this wasn't as unhealthy as you fear?

At first, Mammon's whining and Levi's poorly hidden jealousy was almost cute. Flattering, even, that two of Hell's most infamous demons would crave your full attention so badly. Mammon's pouting and prodding while you were getting ready, asking if you "really have to go?" instead of staying in with him, then him changing tactics and huffing, pretending like it doesn't bother him at all made you smile, when he first started. It was fun to squeeze his cheeks and coo at him, promising he was still your favorite and that you'd be back very soon, fun to placate him and watch him suddenly grow bashful under your affectionate attacks. You had no idea that you were feeding this habits, that he thought you always playing along and giggling was a good thing. You don't find it overbearing until it's too late, until you have to shake him off every time you step outside without him, or worst yet, with one of his brothers instead. You think he would understand, if you explained yourself a little more clearer, but with every attempt, nothing changes.

And you don't know which is worse now—Levi's passive-aggressiveness or his blatant displeasure—whenever you spent time with anyone that isn't him. The days you spend over at Diavolo's castle, for instance, though beyond your control, never fails to frustrate him. He broods in his room until you come in yourself and flatter him with reminders of how much you missed him and how terrible the days without him were (you hold your tongue when you go to praise Barbatos's cooking or Diavolo's hospitality when he's around, too). It’s difficult to appeal to him constantly, to keep in mind if Levi’s around and choose your words carefully. You have to pretend like his actions don’t frustrate you, lest you vex him further. It’s a terrible game of tiptoeing around his feelings, and you’re tired of it. Before, his enthusiasm about his games and mangas also excited you, happy to have something vaguely familiar in the unfamiliar world you found yourself in to help bide the time and keep yourself occupied. And, you thought, it could help you get closer with Levi. However, after receiving innumerable recommendations, to the point you were struggling to even keep up with him, you started losing interest. You got used to feigning excitement whenever Levi detailed every scene he liked, though you couldn't remember anything he actually said, started searching up the basic summary of all the games he recommended so you could pretend like you gave it a try; though this lost it's efficiency quickly, and he started demanding you play in his room.

And Beel, who, though you'd never admit it out loud, was easily your favorite to hang out with these days, was...acting strange. Usually, he'd never partake in the rule enforcing and the stalking (you'd long figured out it was the brothers, though you weren't sure if they knew).—at least not outright, but recently, things had been different. Beel is uncharacteristically clingy, asking to follow when you go out alone, starts working at the same place you work at part time, and consequently gets you both fired after almost destroying the building. He's always been observant, you know, but these days, it feels like he's searching for something in you, and it frightens you as much as it unnerves you. You should do something about it, but what? What could you do to stop him looking at you like he can see through your words (it sounds crazy, especially because this is Beel, but you swear his eyes harden when he catches you in a lie) and dissect your every movement? It's Beel, you tell yourself, Beel, who's never had ulterior motives. He's always had your best interest in heart, and he loves you, not the kind of love that fills you with dread and despair, but something more genuine. But it's also Beel that blocks the door without being urged to when you try to bolt out after realizing just how deep of a hole you've landed into, and it's also Beel that looks away when you plead with him for an explanation.

You wonder if it's Lucifer that casted the spell that keeps you in here, or if Satan helped him, too. How ironic would that be? You wonder who else helped with the planning, if it was Asmo who ordered all the identical furniture and if it was Belphie who kept an eye on you most often, checking in on your dreams to attempt to sway your view of them. Barbatos likely had a role in it, especially if Diavolo asked him to, but the betrayal doesn't sting nearly as it does when it concerns the brothers. The rest, you could, perhaps, explain, but not the brothers, who you devoted so much of your time and energy to. Who you put before yourself and entertained despite your simmering anger. You practically walked into the twisted web of a trap they slowly wove around you, because you trusted them.

And all you got in return was this miserable room.

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bananadrinkxxx · 7 months

Text

𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝓵 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝓵 (3)

Give me your loyalty

CHAPTER 3

[ Aemond Targaryen x female original Targaryen • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: sex content, fights, harassment, angst, smut, domination, violence, targcest (uncle/niece)]

Only for 18+

[description: War is going on between the Blacks and the Greens and Aemma Velaryon is brought to Aemond as a prisoner.]

Masterlist for all available parts (click here)

"My prince, you seem tense. Let me help you."

He felt a hand sliding through his hair, playing with it. The hand gently stroked the back of his neck, moving over his shoulder to his chest, deeper and deeper until it reached his manhood.

Normally such a thing would arouse him, but this time the gesture had no effect on him. It took a moment for Alys to register that her touches were not having the desired effect.

"Is everything all right?"

"I no longer require your services today, you may go," Aemond replied, feeling no desire for her.

She was silent for a moment, circling him and kneeling in front of him.

"Is it the girl?" she asked, continuing. "The princess is a pretty thing. Do you imagine it's her when you fuck me?"

He inhaled softly and felt a stirring between his legs. He didn't know if it was because she was kneeling in front of him, or that she was drawing attention to Aemma.

"She still seems quite inexperienced. A young girl who doesn't seem to be very experienced at pleasing a man yet. I, on the other hand, know how to give you pleasure," she said, gently placing her long fingers on his thigh. He felt his manhood pulsate violently at her words, his mind completely clouded, his lips opened.

"You can do whatever you want to me, my prince. You can even say her name if you want, I wouldn't mind," she whispered softly and sensually as her hands reached up to unzip his pants.

He could use her the way he had used her several times already. She was always at his service, fulfilling all his needs. But despite his arousal, he didn't want to feel her that night.

Aemond watched Alys. She looked like Aemma. Her hair, her eyes, her skin. She was older than his niece, but she proved her experience in bed. Yet it was not Alys he wanted.

Suddenly he felt frustration at the sight of the woman offering herself to him like a whore, looking a poor copy of the one he wanted in truth.

"Leave the room," he ordered coldly.

"But-," she began, but Aemond had no interest in listening to her blather any longer. He grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her up roughly. Alys looked at him, stunned.

"I told you to stop, woman," he hissed. "Don't make me repeat myself."

He saw in Alys' eyes that his coldness hurt her, but he owed her nothing. They never had any connection other than that he was using her for his purposes and lusts and that she had an advantage because of it. If she had hoped for more, she was a fool.

Alys narrowed her eyes and nodded. His eye followed her as she left his room, and he almost averted his gaze if he hadn't seen one of Aemma's guards dart past his door.

With a swift movement, he went to the door, pushed aside Alys, who looked at him hopefully, as if he had changed his mind, and went out into the hallway to grab the man by the collar.

"What are you doing here, lad?" he spat with anger in his voice and fear entered the boy's eyes.

"M-m-my p-prince, I-"

"Don't waste my time with your pointless stuttering. You were assigned to guard the princess. Why are you here?"

The man looked at him with fear and horror.

"Oh, we were relieved. We haven't had supper yet, and three men said they would guard the princess."

Aemond felt the blood freeze in his veins.

He cracked open his eye and shoved the young man roughly away from him.

"You fool," he hissed and ran in the other direction. He was fast, but he feared when he arrived at Aemma's room, she would be gone. He was sure that his enemies had broken into Harrenhal to free his niece.

He would slaughter every single guard. He would drag them to Vhagar and execute them with fire before offering them to Vhagar for food.

Then he heard a scream.

Aemond ran into the corridor to her room and stopped gasping for breath at the closed door.

"Stop resisting, cunt, and take what I give you," a voice mewled from behind the door, muffled but still loud enough for him to understand.

He felt his blood freeze in his veins.

They dared? They dared to defy his orders and attack what was his? He determined what happened to Aemma. No one was allowed to touch her, to touch a hair without his consent.

He pushed against the door, only to find that it was closed.

Without much hesitation, he drew his dagger and slammed the handle against the lock. The doors in Harrenhal were old and damaged from the many fires and it was easy to break the lock.

He pushed the door open to see exactly what he had expected.

Aemma was lying on the floor, surrounded by three men. Two held her down, a third struggled with her legs. She had a bloody lip and he was sure he could already see a bruise under her eye. Her hair was wildly spread over the floor, her dress was pulled up and her bare legs revealed themselves to him. He saw that there had been a fight, all the men also bore wounds on their faces.

His little warrior, Aemond thought proudly.

"What the seven hells," one of the men cursed before recognizing him and he turned white as a sheet.

"M-my prince," he stuttered, and his buddies turned around, startled. Without hesitation, he stepped toward the men and knocked one of them down, the other man he chased his dagger into his guts, watching the life drain from his eyes. He enjoyed the sight and regretted that he could not take more time.

One he would leave alive and make an example of.

Eyes fixed on his allies, the third man, who had been crouched between Aemma's legs, fell to his knees fearfully looking to Aemond.

"My prince, forgive me, I didn't mean to do it, the whore tricked us, she promised us her cunt if we freed her, but-," he lied, obviously, and Aemond wasted no more time. He plunged the dagger he'd used on his friend earlier straight into his mouth, which was bubbling with lies, watching with satisfaction as the man choked on it while spitting blood. His eyes were wide open before Aemond withdrew the dagger, watching as the man toppled lifelessly. He cleaned his dagger on the dead man's clothing and turned his gaze to Aemma, who looked at him in shock and fear.

His gaze slid to her bare legs and Aemma followed his gaze. She flinched in shock, ashamed, and slid her dress over her white legs. Regret filled his belly.

"Did you like the performance?"

She looked at him, stunned, but said not a word.

"Did they touch you?"

She snorted. "Obviously." She phrased it as if he were stupid, but that wasn't what she meant.

He moved closer, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up.

"I want to know if they fucked you?"

"Don't touch me," Aemma screamed, but Aemond grabbed her chin and held it tightly.

"Give me an answer," he roared in anger, and Aemma's eyes widened in fear. He saw tears come to her eyes and suddenly felt pity. She looked distraught.

"No, you came in time." Her voice was low, ashamed.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have known what he would have done if she had confirmed it. Aemond looked to the man he had left alive. Soon, he would wish he had died like his accomplices.

"Do you see now that you are at my mercy?"

Aemma looked at him, stunned. Anger entered her eyes. There was her fire again.

"It's because of you that I'm in this situation in the first place," she accused him. And she was right. But he was not a man plagued by guilt. He took what was his due. Guilt meant weakness. He had no regrets. He lived with the consequences.

"Would it be so bad if you gave yourself to me? As my wife, I could protect you."

He would rip the heart out of anyone who even approached her.

"You mean as your whore, don't you?"

He pulled up the corners of his mouth. He liked the idea. He looked at Aemma. Although her face was damaged, she was still pretty. Too pretty.

"Does it matter that much?" he breathed softly, his extended index finger over her chin. "I mean, you'd make a good whore."

Her eyes flashed. He felt her fire arousing him.

"Let me go," she nagged, kicking at his leg. He dodged elegantly and regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

"Stop fighting it, Aemma. I know you want it. Then as now."

His smile is bitter, just like the heart in his chest.

"Do you know what I would do to you if you were mine?"

"Not interested."

"I'd pump you full of my seed. I'd stuff you full of it until your belly would swell. Would you like that?"

He saw the blush on her face. He saw the shame and her innocence and it only excited him more. He wanted her. He desired her. Aemond imagined everything he would do with her, and it still wasn't enough.

"Would you take your uncle to bed?" He kissed her neck. She tasted sweet, mixed with the salt of her sweat. She moaned and he pressed harder against her. No matter how hard she fought it. She had always wanted him. No matter how much she denied it. She wanted him the way he wanted her. She was his. He would never leave the space between her thighs again if she was his. His tongue traveled down her neck, tracing a trail of passion on her skin. His fingers touched the neckline of her dress and played with her laces.

"I could give you anything you desire, if only you'd let me."

He looked at her eyes, blurred with lust. Did he look at her the same way she looked at him. All she had to do was say yes and he would give her everything. And he would take it all. Her moans would be heard all the way to Dragonstone.

He wondered how his half-sister would react when she would find out that he wouldn't let her bastard daughter out of his bedroom. Fucking her until Aemma had his child inside her.

"Why are you torturing me like this?" breathed Aemma, and she sounded exhausted. "Do you know no mercy?"

He snorted snidely.

"Mercy is nothing you will get from me. Give up and surrender to me."

She shook her head.

"I'm not getting involved in your games."

"Strange, you usually enjoyed my games," Aemond scoffed. "Stop playing the innocent lamb when there's as much darkness in you as there is in me."

He saw the hunger in her eyes mixed with anger. It was a divine sight.

"Admit it, Aemma," he breathed. His lips just inches from hers. He felt her hot breath on his lips.

"You love it when I do what I want to you. You crave it. You want to feel me inside you, deeper than any man has ever felt before."

Aemma looked at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"Any man before?" Her voice sounded irritated but Aemond was not fooled. He had heard what she had done to secure the support of the North for her mother. He'd heard the rumors of how she'd spread her legs for Lord Stark, only to have him go to war against his rightful king.

But it didn't change the fact that he still wanted her. It just made him mad that another man had her in front of him. No, through an unfortunate set of circumstances, he hadn't gotten to her cunt, but he still would.

"You're a whore, aren't you?" Aemond breathed against Aemma's mouth. He wants to plunder him, wanted to fuck so deep inside her tight body that Aemma will feel his mind for years.

"You'd spread your legs for any man who wanted you." He punctuated his words by sliding a hand between them. He lifted her dress and felt her bare skin beneath his. He wanted to possess her and after that she would be all his. He would fuck her so hard that she would never feel anything else.

Aemma's head fell back.

She clenched her hands into fists and squinted her eyes.

"You call me a whore," Aemma breathed "As if you would allow anyone else to have me."

"I'd rip out their guts," growled Aemond.

Aemma laughed, and the sound choked into a groan as Aemond's hand tightened. His manhood pulsed.

"You don't want me. You only want power and retribution. You're cruel."

"Must everything I do be a cruelty to you?"

"I know nothing else," she said, looking at him. Her eyes were serious. "I haven't forgotten our childhood."

"You seem to be good at finding fault with others."

"You play with people, Aemond. You're playing with me. You always have."

"Then you play along," he urged her.

She shook her head. Anger, hatred, bitterness, sadness, and something else was in her eyes.

"You killed my brother."

Yes, that was indeed something he might want to think about more carefully. He hadn't even intended to end Lucerys life there. He wanted to see his fear, to see him kneeling before him, pleading for his life, but he hadn't thought about his death. Rather of his eye, but it had happened what had happened.

He had no regrets.

He just hadn't planned it.

"He took my eye."

Aemma looked at him, stunned. She was back in her right mind. Too bad.

"A life for an eye?"

"You punished me again for that, didn't you?" said Aemond bitterly, thinking of his nephew's headless body. He was dead, murdered by Rhaenyra and Daemon, and he would not rest until he got revenge.

And if his revenge consisted in taking Aemma to his bed and presenting Rhaenyra her belly swollen with his seed.

He would fuck her in front of everyone, in front of all his men, if it meant that Rhaenyra saw her own wickedness in her daughter. He wondered what it would be like if everyone watched, but only he was allowed to touch her.

"But I am kind, niece. I can forgive you," Aemond whispered, letting his lips brush over her skin again. "I would pardon you. I would make you a Queen. My Queen. I would crown you."

Aemond looked Aemma straight in the eye. She looked at him from narrowed brown doe eyes. She was a lamb and he was a dragon. No matter how hard she tried to be a dragon. A true dragon she would never be. But he could plant a true dragon in her.

"There is only one Queen for this realm. My mother will soon sit on the iron throne and burn all traitors."

Aemond smiled snidely. He was not surprised by her answer.

"Then see what I do with traitors," he spoke and she followed his gaze as he looked to the dead men. His focus was on the unconscious man who slowly began to stir.

He would show her that he had no mercy on his enemies or traitors.

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daddy-deathslinger · 1 year

Note

Thanks I hate it!! But I love you and your writing so may I request a pt2 of the escaping the realms one you did? Maybe where they find the reader??

I’m happy you were tortured as much by the picture, as I was making it! >:D And thank you so much for the kind words!! ❤️ One part 2 coming right up!

The Deathslinger searches for his S/O after the Entity spat him back out

Sundown had long come and gone. Night was approaching steadily and without mercy, covering the silent town in darkness. The chilly night air cooled Caleb off, it was just what he needed right now. He felt frustrated beyond words, his heart pounding in his chest and his fists clenched shut. Another day wasted. With a deep sigh, he untied his horse and got up in the saddle. Spending another night at the inn was pointless, he wasn’t going to get any sleep this night either. He might as well be on the roads, on the lookout, than tossing and turning in a cheap bed.

“Let’s go, Polly”, he muttered to his horse, and they rode out of the small shithole town, hopefully never to return.

Caleb despised this place, he had only been here for one thing. His mission. And again he had failed. It had been one year since he was spat out from Hell, one year since he had last seen you, heard your voice. He was on a mission to find you, but so far he had been unsuccessful. And every day without you pained him more and more. He had cut ties with the Hellshire gang, left them to fend for themselves, find a new leader, whatever. He needed to do this alone, he knew that. But some days, the most lonesome days, when solitude hit like a knife, part of him felt like giving up. Turning himself in, going out with a bang in a shootout, anything to make it all end. But thinking of you always kept him going.

“Might as well rest a bit now that we’re out of that dreadful town”, he said to Polly, and pulling her to a halt he quickly got off.

He decided to start a fire, keep himself warm and do some thinking. Polly needed rest tonight, even if he didn’t. He built a quick fireplace and got some twigs and branches gathered, and soon a small fire was cackling along. Caleb sat down by the fire, warming his hands, thinking of you. He had searched the whole country, it felt like. Day and night, with very little rest. And yet, you were nowhere to be found. He knew it was a long shot, asking to find you here, in the States. You might not even have been released from Hell, what if you were still there, being tortured? Caleb shook his head to get rid of the thoughts, the memories from that place. He needed to find you, and soon. As he sat there in the night, alone with his thoughts, he could hear something in the far distance. Hooves. A group of horses, galloping across the desert in the middle of the night. Caleb got up from the ground, his gaze fixated on the horizon where he could hear the sound. There he saw them, a gang riding along the road. Five or six of them. What on earth were they doing out here, now? Caleb thought he was the only one who couldn’t sleep these days. As the gang got closer to him, he thought fast.

“Howdy there!” he yelled out, waving to seem more approachable. “Care to help a stranger out here?”

They outnumbered him, he couldn’t rob them. But he could ask them if they’d seen anything, heard anything. Any leads he could get. To his gratitude, he saw the silhouettes change their routes slightly so they could approach him directly, and soon they slowed to a halt in front of him. In the light of Caleb’s campfire, he took a quick look at the gang in front of him. A bunch of youngsters all of them, some of them barely out of their twenties by the looks of it.

“What you doin’ out here alone?” one of the boys asked. “Lots of trouble along these roads.”

Caleb didn’t respond, he was busy studying a curious baggage on one of the horses backs. It was big, dark, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he could see it move in the shadows. Kidnappers, eh? Well, he was far from above that, so he would let them be on their merry way soon enough.

“Just wondering if you boys have seen a lone person on yer travels? About this tall, hair this long…”

He was interrupted by one of the boys laughing.

“Mister, we’ve seen a lot of people during our travels! Hard to keep track of ‘em all!”

Caleb swallowed a grunt and tried keeping his cool. Suddenly, he was struck by a feeling, and as he saw the person/baggage on the horseback moving slightly again, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Mind if I take a look at that person of yours? Can’t be too sure these days”, he said, pointing towards the baggage.

At this, the boy who seemed to be the leader shook his head.

“No can do, mister. We got business to attend to, if you’ll excuse us. We ain’t seen nothing and no one. Let’s go, boys!”

Caleb quickly got out a revolver from his coat pocket and aimed it at the leader.

“Wasn’t exactly a request, I’m afraid.”

The boys looked at eachother, then laughed in unison.

“What, you’re gonna take on all of us with that thing?”

“Crazy old coot!”

Caleb grunted and put away his pistol.

“If that’s how it’s gotta be…” he murmured, searching the bag on his horseback.

The boys’ laughters were cut short as he pulled out his Redeemer and aimed it at the leader.

“Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way”, he said, a slight smile on his lips.

“We ain’t scared of you!” one of the boys shouted, and the next second a loud bang rang through the night.

The hook was caught nicely by the leader’s shoulder, and in one go Caleb had him falling off his horse and struggling for his life as the chain pulled him in closer to his perpetrator.

“Fuck, it’s him!” one of the boys shouted and turned his horse around to flee.

Caleb released the wounded leader and took aim for the boy with the baggage on his horseback.

“Fuck this!” the boy screamed and turned heels as well.

Just as he was about to gallop away, Caleb aimed a shot right next to the horse to frighten it, and to his triumph the horse rose on its hind legs, making the baggage fall to the ground before it galloped away with its brave knight in the saddle. The rest of the boys were soon to follow, none of them daring to take up a fight against the Deathslinger himself. The wounded leader got up on his horse and rode away as well, and Caleb let him. He had more important business now, approaching the tied up person still on the ground. As he got closer, his stomach curled in on itself, and he felt something he hadn’t felt in years. A longing, so strong it was going to rip him apart. He quickened his pace, and knelt before the tied up figure. They had a bag on their head, and with shivering hands Caleb removed it… And as he saw who was underneath it, his stomach punched a hole in itself and his heart stopped in his chest. It couldn’t be…

“Y/N…?” he whispered, just staring at you.

You were gagged, so he quickly removed the gag so you could speak.

“Caleb!” you screamed, tears trickling down your face. “Caleb, I can’t believe it’s you!”

Caleb stared at you for a couple more seconds, then he shook his head and untied you quickly. He helped you up from the cold ground, and the two of you embraced like you hadn’t seen each other in… well, a year.

“Y/N…” Caleb whispered, feeling the tears burn behind his eyelids. “It cannot be…”

For so long he had searched. So many sleepless nights without you by his side, so much anger, so much grief. And here you were. Or was this a trick of the mind? Caleb had to release you, take a look at you. You looked tired, heavy bags underneath your eyes and tears streaming down your face. He caressed your face, kissed you, held you again.

“Y/N, I can’t believe it.”

“Caleb, I missed you so, so much…” you whispered into his hair, hugging him tightly.

“Come, sit down by the fire”, Caleb said, and on shaky legs both of you walked up to the campfire and sat down.

Caleb got out a blanket from his bag and swept it around your shoulders. You dried your eyes and curled up in his arms as he sat down next to you. Neither of you said a word. Caleb was dying to know how you were here, what had happened to you, but for now he just wanted this moment to stay like this. You, in his arms, in front of a warm campfire, the crickets chirping in the night. Caleb let out a content sigh and relaxed for the first time in a year.

The Oni searches for his S/O after the Entity spat him back out

Flesh. Blood. Bones being broken, their cracking noise echoing through Kazan’s head. It was all a red mess, a red, bloody mess. And Kazan loved it. He made them all pay for what they had done to him, he made them regret ever taking you from him. As the screams eventually died down, Kazan was left standing victorious amongst the corpses of the villagers. His trembling breath was all that could be heard in the night, his bloody fists still shaking from the adrenaline. He had defeated them all, but where were you? Were they hiding you somewhere? He let out a desperate roar in the night, but to no use. You didn’t reply. His adrenaline rush slowly fading and being replaced by anxiety, Kazan started searching the village. He went into every house, every cellar, tearing up beds and flipping over tables. Nothing. He knew you could still be trapped in the other place, that place where blood and torture were everyday things. The place he had been at, before he woke up here. Shaking his head, he removed those thoughts from there. You had to be here as well, you just had to. So he continued his stubborn search throughout the village.

The last place he checked was the emperor’s palace. It was big, but somehow Kazan knew his way around here. He checked every room, and when he ventured down into the dungeons, a strange feeling grabbed a hold of his heart. A feeling he hadn’t felt in ages, a feeling of… longing. He didn’t know what this feeling meant, but he urged on his exploration of the palace. The prison dungeons were dark and wet, and Kazan’s heavy footsteps echoed through the silent halls. He checked every cell, empty besides some skeletons here and there. Prisoners, living out their final days in this rotten place. As Kazan was nearing the last cell, he let out a frustrated sigh, clawing at his face. If he didn’t find you… Suddenly, a sound could be heard. It was faint, merely a mumble in the dungeon halls, but it sent Kazan running towards the last prison cell. Somehow, that faint sound made him think of… You. There you were, tied up in the corner of the cell, sitting on the cold stone ground. Kazan’s breath got stuck in his throat, the world started spinning and he had to grab ahold of the heavy iron door of the cell. Was this real, or a trick of the mind? You lifted your head to have a look at whoever had stopped outside of your cell, and as you saw Kazan standing outside the door, your eyes widened.

“Kazan…? Is that really you?”

When Kazan heard your voice, all breath was stolen from him. This was real, it had to be. Quickly, Kazan took a more secure grip of the iron door’s handle and pulled it. It didn’t budge.

“It’s no use, Kazan, they locked me in here. I-I don’t know which one of the villagers has the key…”

Kazan let out an angry grunt and pulled the door handle again. Nothing happened. Taking a step back away from the door, he grabbed his Kanabo from his back. He was so close to getting to hold you again, he was not going to stop now. He gathered all his strength and anger, and with one mighty swing he tore the door open with his Kanabo, and the loud bang echoed through the halls. As the dust settled, Kazan approached you. He quickly untied you, and the next second you were in his strong embrace, hugging him like your life depended on it.

“Kazan, I’m so glad you found me…” you whispered, and Kazan felt his anger turn into a warmer feeling in his chest.

He hugged you desperately, never wanting to let go of your warm body ever again. He had found you, and he was never going to let anything happen to you again. No one would ever hurt you, he would make sure of it. Come what may.

The Pig searches for her S/O after the Entity spat her back out

Warnings: angst, gore

Amanda’s heart was hammering in her chest. The gun felt heavy in her shaky hands. She had never felt this scared in her life, but she had never been more alert. She needed to find you, no matter what. She was making her way down a dimly lit corridor, a corridor she knew far too well. It was here that she had set up Jeff’s tests. Now it was empty, save for the clutter and random machinery parts. This old factory still gave her the creeps, she couldn’t deny that. Even more now, when she was searching for you, not knowing what was going on or if you were safe. She had searched through empty rooms and halls, not seeing any trace of you. She had torn off a piece of her shirt to tie up the bleeding wound on her neck, it helped a bit. In one of the rooms, she’d found a box of bullets to her immense relief, so now her gun wasn’t useless at least. She hadn’t yet dared call out your name, but now she was becoming desperate.

“Y/N?” she yelled as she entered another empty room.

The stench of dried blood and guts hit her nostrils like a fist to the face, and she almost vomited on the spot. Gun outstretched in front of her, pressing her face against her shoulder, she took a deep breath to try and gather herself. She could not be weak now, she had to remain strong for you. Quickly leaving the room, she cast a last glance over at the torture device filled with human remains before she left. Had to be the drunk driver. Amanda continued with shaky yet determined legs, the loss of blood slowing her down a bit. Where were you? As she approached yet another closed door, probably hiding another empty room, she suddenly got a strange feeling. A feeling she hadn’t felt in ages, a feeling of a strange longing. A longing so strong, it was going to rip out her stomach. In one quick move, she forced the rusted door open and immediately was faced with a nightmare. There you were. Strung up from the ceiling, unconscious.

“Y/N!” Amanda cried out, dropping her gun to the ground and running up to you.

This woke you up, and you opened a pair of groggy eyes. Very soon your grogginess was exchanged for fear, as you noticed you were tied up.

“Amanda…?”

“Y/N! Are you hurt?”

Tears were burning behind Amanda’s eyelids, her heart hammering away in her chest like a possessed drum. You were hooked into a device holding you upright, dangling from the ceiling. Around your chest was a leather harness, keeping in place the metal contraptions, and you were bleeding quite heavily from a wound in your chest. The angel trap. Amanda knew this trap, because she had designed it.

“Amanda, help me, please!” you screamed, as it seemed to dawn on you how you were trapped.

Amanda nodded, silent tears streaming down her face. This couldn’t be happening. Suddenly she noticed something in the front pocket of your jeans. A note sticking out. She quickly grabbed it, unfolding it with shaky hands.

“You created inescapable traps.”

That was all that was written on the note, and the handwriting was impossible to decipher. Amanda let out a cry of fear, looking back up at you. This couldn’t be.

“Amanda? What’s wrong? P-Please, help me out of this!”

Amanda tried to collect herself, she tried to think. Who had put you here? It couldn’t have been John, he was dead. Was it the Entity? There had to be an escape, there must be. She had designed this trap, she knew how it worked. You also know it’s inescapable, a voice in her head said, but she ignored it. She had to ignore it. Quickly drying her tears with the back of her hand, she started studying the contraption with her hands.

“I-It’s okay, love, I’m gonna get you out of this. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll get you out of this”, she said as she studied the harness a bit closer.

But could she really promise that? Shaking her head to get rid of the thoughts, she forced herself to stay focused on her mission. She noticed the wound again, the wound bleeding from your chest. But something was strange with it, it didn’t seem to be related at all to the harness. And then Amanda noticed that the harness wasn’t even attached to your ribcage. A wave of unimaginable relief washed over her and she almost laughed out loud in joy.

“Honey, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay!” she said, looking up at you. “We just need to find the key.”

“It’s there”, you said, pointing with your gaze in front of you.

Amanda followed your gaze and saw a small jar hanging from a chain from the ceiling. The acid jar.

“I just need to get the key from there and we’ll-”

“No!” Amanda yelled, a bit louder than she had intended to. “I’ll get it.”

“Amanda-”

“I’ll get it, Y/N!” Amanda pressed on, trying to ignore her own shaky voice.

She was the one who had gotten you here, by being your partner, so she was gonna get the key. Quickly climbing up on the contraption you were dangling from, she put her hand into the jar of acid without hesitating. Burning pain exploded in her hand and spread throughout her body, but she persisted. Screaming in agony, she felt her fingers grabbing the key and holding onto it for dear life and she pulled her hand out of the jar.

“You got it! Amanda, you got it!” you screamed, relief audible in your voice.

Amanda took deep breaths to try and calm down. If you don’t give the pain power, it isn’t as bad, she told herself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She didn’t look at her hand, as she shakily started to unlock the lock that held the harness together. In a blur, she saw the lock get opened, and you were quick to get out of the harness. Amanda wanted to check if you were hurt anywhere else besides your chest wound, but the world was getting blurrier by the second. She had to sit down, gulping air into her lungs intensely.

“Amanda!”

She felt you kneel down beside her, holding her in a warm, safe embrace. You were safe, that was all that mattered now.

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd fanfic #the deathslinger #the deathslinger x reader #caleb quinn #caleb quinn x reader #the oni dbd #dbd the oni #the oni x reader #dbd the pig #the pig x reader #amanda young #amanda saw

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gooseagain8 · 8 months

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Raimu Usuzumi - Ultimate Mangaka

Sloth

So far these are the only digital drawings I have of them

Their design is pretty basic

t-shirt, baggy pajamas, a big blanket over their shoulders and some socks. I'll definitely change up the color pallette and maybe the hair just a bit?

I have a design of them when they just started out as a mangaka, just imagine the opposite; very tidy and still full of energy

Having always dreamed of being a mangaka because it's what helped them through tough times

They started making manga at a young age and right now I'm pretty sure i planned for them to be the oldest in the cast

Their name, Raimu can be read as Lime which I thought was cute so Lime is sorta their pen name and the name they use to present themselves online/publicly

They've been very overworked, currently working on many well known on-going mangas

They so desperately want to quit but would feel immensely guilty because what would happen to the people who love their works? How would people react if their favorite series just ended?

They understand that what they make is something truly important and an inspiration to some people. They love their fans and work very hard to not disappoint any of them

They don't want to quit, they love what to they do... but someone should give em a vacation or something

Back to the working hard thing,

Well... yeah they work hard but most of the time they try to procrastinate or have a hiatus any chance they get (Don't get me wrong they very much need it but fans are either understanding or would be very impatient)

Raimu is very weak and tired all the time, someone who doesn't move around much and just very done with it all. Constantly so tired but can never sleep, its very frustrating for them. It's probably best that you don't talk with them in between their breaks

Raimu is a hard working mangaka who just can't let their fans down and has ruined themselves trying to please them and live up to the name of Ultimate Mangaka

Anon - Ultimate Singer

Wrath

Just need to say that this 'not' what she looks like currently. She has a more muscular build and I'm still figuring out her design.

Anon is her stage name

She's an adopted child

As a child she usually bottled up feelings and thoughts, was told to never be rude or offend anyone and lived quietly. She's always loved music but only ever listened and sang a little, never even once considered being a singer because she never thought she had the same talent as the people she listened to

Throughout the years she's worked many jobs but her first job related to music was debuting as an idol in Japan. She eventually quit, although the idea of singing as a career never left her mind.

Being back to working a normal job her life has felt pretty dull and sort of... irritating. Still, she keeps everything inside

And let that go on for a few more years until she finally breaks and just wants to scream.

She doesn't want to keep these thoughts inside anymore, she wants to shout them out. She quit her job and wants to try music again. She's extremely frustrated with herself for wasting all these years doing pointless jobs she found no enjoyment in, all the people she's had to deal with for years and remembering how she could never speak up.

She was enraged with herself. She wanted to improve, so she started quickly.

She's been improving her singing and has been working out to get stronger

She pours out her heart when she's singing/on stage and she feels happy with herself

Although she's much more short-tempered now and says whatever without thinking, she can get.... very violent conceringly often

She knows when she sees her past self in someone else and it irritates her. She tries her best to make them more open and vocal in their opinions ( she's aggressively supportive so the person just ends up being intimidated and scared )

#dr: mira #dr: miracle event #fangan oc #my ocs #ocs #about ocs #ask stuff!#ask open

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awordbroken · 11 months

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MotR impressions after 18 hours/3 playthroughs (pretty negative, ngl)

on my first playthrough i admittedly mostly faffed about with whatever seemed interesting. ended up getting the parliament ending, but since characters were still pushing me to investigate the murder before the trial i ended up wasting a bunch of time on that which turned out to be completely pointless.

i never really felt like there was a good time to put everything else on hold to pursue romance, but since i knew the game was supposed to go through three 'seasons', i figured i could put it off until after the trial. this was incorrect, the trial is the end of the game and the third 'season' is just the ending of the playthrough. technically i got AN ending on this playthrough, but it felt pretty hollow since i still had no real clues about the murder nor managed to squeeze in any romance or even close friendship. even despite spending a decent amount of time with Griz on achieving the parliament ending, as far as the game was concerned we seemed to be little more than strangers, presumably because stupid me didn't devote any of my limited time to spending time with her solely for relationship-building.

second playthrough, i thought ok, this time i'll have a romance in mind, i'll just pick up the parliament ending again and then devote the rest of my time to flirting with Mr Pages.

i didn't really want to have to express interest in it to Griz's face immediately after the first meeting where it barely says anything, but in my first playthrough i don't recall ever getting a second chance to express interest, so i guess that was obligatory. so that was already starting out feeling weird and like the game was demanding i express interest before giving me any reason for my character to have any.

spent a decent portion of the playthrough gathering censuses and turning them in in batches of 2-3, mostly ignoring sidequests and the murder mystery (since i knew doing the parliament quest would bypass it). none of my interactions with Pages felt like there was any natural building of closeness or an interest forming, so despite the constant insistent popping up of the generic menu for defining your exact kind of interest i was hesitant to assert that my character was already in love -

(and i also didn't fully understand that this was solely a menu for defining what options you want available for the character - i thought 'decide to kiss Mr Pages' meant, you know, that my character would try to kiss it right then and there? not that that would simply unlock a future option to try? i fucking hated this intrusive pseudo-ic menu to be honest, immensely disruptive to have Mr Pages tell my character that it was only indulging this romance as an experiment with love stories immediately followed by this FUCKING menu popping up and my eyes falling on the option 'decide to marry Mr Pages'. REALLY? as if the complete lack of internal narration or continuation of that scene didn't already make my character feel like an automaton with no interiority whatsoever, this gameplay menu with its utterly generic options inexplicably masquerading as an in-character prompt really was the final nail in any tension or immersion in this "romance" that i might have deluded myself into feeling)

- getting back to the point above, nothing in the generic "pursue your romance with Pages" scenes ever felt like a natural point to escalate the relationship, so possibly i was a bit slow in pushing the "romance" along, because i didn't even end up getting the Vake-at-your-window scene until the last day of the game, and the ending at the feast didn't even give me the option to talk to Pages, so. once again, ended up getting the exact same ending with no close character relationships.

starting my third playthrough i was, ngl, pretty frustrated. at this point i just went all in on Pages, turning in every new census i got to maximize my scenes with it. once again, i never felt like there was any point where i honestly believed that there were feelings developing between my character and Mr Pages, i just pushed those buttons in that behated relationship-defining menu and suddenly Mr Pages was calling my characters its pet or whatever. cute, but the lack of any emotional buildup or sense of progression just made it feel completely hollow. the kissing scene, the brief fetish gear bat sex quest and the Veils scene were literally the only glimmers of interest in this whole "romance", with the rest of the time spent with Mr Pages feeling like nothing so much as those parts in persona games where you spend time with a social link but don't have enough relationship built up to get the next real scene, so the game just briefly shows the characters chatting somewhere with some variation of "you spent some time with x."

bored. i spent most of this playthrough bored. i never at any point felt like either of these characters so much as liked each other. in fact they barely felt like more than strangers. ostensibly they ended the playthrough in a relationship. the epilogue made no mention of how things may turn out in the future. maybe Veils ate them both off screen and put them out of their misery.

speaking of Veils, was there supposed to be any followup after reporting its appearance at your window to Pages? it just seemed to be abruptly dropped, which was a shame since, again, it was about the only interesting thing to happen.

i also noticed that, by prioritizing spending romantic time with Pages (which you always do alone with it) i never got to see any of the scenes with Griz that actually show some insight into its personality or relationship with the other Masters, like confronting it about things like the drownies. is that really how it's supposed to be? having to choose BETWEEN romancing a character and actually getting to know it in any meaningful way? make it make sense.

at this point i feel like i haven't had a single playthrough that left me feeling satisfied and like my character got to experience a complete story, so i don't know. maybe Mr Pages' romance is just uniquely bad. maybe you're not actually supposed to want any romance in this ostensible romance game and i should just be pursuing the plot. maybe there is a way to have a fun and satisfying run of this game, but then how, why, is it that after three playthroughs, i still feel that i don't know how i'm supposed to achieve that?

#motr spoilers #others are already articulating criticism better than i can so this is just.. my raw feelings throughout my time playing #it's the best i can do #mask of the rose

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thetarttfuldickhead · 4 months

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A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

23.

The door swung open before the soft chime of the bell had faded. ”Jamie!”

Mummy, beaming at him, and before he even knew it he was in her arms, wrapping himself tight around her and stooping to bury his face in her neck and just hold her as she clung to him in turn.

“Hi, Mummy,” he murmured, inhaling the familiar scent that was comfort and safety and home.

He could hear the bright smile in her voice. “Hi, baby. Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

And it seemed to silly, suddenly, such pointless and foolish waste, that he should have stayed away for so long, kept himself from this for so long. Just from the way she’d lit up at the sight of him it was so fucking obvious that there’d never been anything to fear, and nothing to gain but loneliness and heartache for them both.

And he had known that, deep down, hadn’t he. And yet.

Fucking stupid.

Jamie made a low, frustrated noise.

Mummy noticed, of course she noticed, and she didn’t let him go or try to pull back, but she asked, “Jamie? Is everything all right, son?”

“Yeah. No. I mean, it’s… Listen, Mummy, I need to tell you, but it’s… and I’m sorry I haven’t been around much, yeah? Haven’t called enough, I should have called more. But things— And I’m sorry, yeah? I just— ”

“Jamie, baby,” Mummy interrupted, kindly but firmly, as she kept running her hand over his hair, just like Keeley had a couple of nights ago “Whatever it is, it’s going to be all right, I promise. There’s nothing you can do or say that would make me love you any less, you know that.”

He nodded against her shoulder. “Yeah, I know.” He did know. Had never doubted it.

Somehow that had only made it harder.

“I just want you to be happy.”

And yes, he knew that too, but that was the crutch of it, wasn’t it? The truth he’d wanted to keep from her. “I haven’t been, much,” he mumbled, a whispered confession, the thing that lain between them brought out into the soft light of the hall. His unhappiness, and underneath it what had caused it and what it had led him to do.

She did pull back at that, lifting her hand to his face, running it over his cheek. “Yes, son,” she said quietly. “I know. And it broke my heart that you wouldn’t talk to me about it, but you’re your own man, Jamie. If you don’t want to tell me things you don’t have to. I’m here for you, whenever you need me to be. But yeah, it did hurt when you stopped coming around, even though I knew you were busy. You don’t need to tell me everything, my gorgerous boy, but please don’t shut me out just because you think you can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t… I wanted to talk to you, I did, swear down, but I just didn’t know— “ He fell silent with a small shrug.

Georgie nodded. “All right. Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Yeah, okay.”

She smiled at that, encouragingly like, and Jamie smiled back. Felt some of the tension bleed away, some of the regret ease. It had been shit, staying away and shutting her out, but they were here now; it would be all right.

“Let’s go sit down then, and we’ll have Simon bring some sweet treats. He’s been in the kitchen all day since you said you were coming.”

Oh. Jamie made a face. “Sorry, I should have called earlier, given you guys more time—“

“No, hush now, none of that. You’re here now, Jamie, and that’s all that matters, yeah?”

Sighing, he pulled her back into a tight hug. There were a lot of them to catch up on. “Yeah, okay. I love you, Mummy.”

“I know, baby. I love you, too.”

#alexa play 'welcome home son' by radical face #i cannot be held responsible for this being sappy as fuck it's just how they talk ://////#jamie tartt #georgie tartt #jamie's christmas carol #ONLY TWO CHAPTERS LEFT ARE YOU KIDDING ME #my stuff #fic

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ivysinistra · 20 days

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I'm not gonna name any names, but I have this one friend who's essentially the perfect trans girl. Voice passes, face passes, pretty much everything. Always posting about how much she loves her life and being trans.

I know I'm such a miserable piece of shit for this, but seeing that is so fucking demoralizing because there's just no conceivable way that I could ever achieve that. I'm fundamentally limited by my body and my genetics and overall it's just fucking impossible to get where she is. I wish I could love myself and my transition as much as she seems to love hers, but that's just a pipe dream ultimately. I have to actively try to be normal around her, which to be honest is almost impossible, so I tend to avoid her as much as I can especially in VCs. She probably doesn't know that and I'm never going to tell her.

I know I'm the asshole here. I should be happy watching someone else succeed like this. I'm not a crab in a bucket and I hate people who are, but goddamn is it frustrating to be in a position like this. I have to work VERY hard to even have a 50% chance of passing, if that, and it seems like people around me do it so much better. And sure, I can ignore the binary, I should be ignoring the binary, my entire life is an act of protest and I've had to acknowledge that I'm hot in more... unconventional ways. That much is true. The binary is bullshit.

Unfortunately, I'm still fundamentally bound by it internally and can't follow my own advice. I would love to just be a cis-passing trans girl but that's impossible with my natural jaw and hairline and voice and height and build and everything. I've spent months and months of wasted life being dysphoric about these things that people tend to actually enjoy in me, despite me feeling disgusting because of them for such a long time. I've wasted years being insecure about things about my appearance I can't control.

And yet it still consumes me to this day. Even though I know without a shadow of a doubt the binary is bullshit, that I should be happy with my transition because every body is beautiful in its own way, that there's no wrong way to be trans, etc. My brain cannot let go of the binary and trying desperately to achieve the impossible. I have to face it eventually. I'm an ugly fuck according to cisheteronormative beauty standards.

I'm not traditionally feminine, like, at all, and I wasn't blessed with any features that can help cover that up. At all. It'd be pointless to pursue it, because failure is guaranteed. I look older than I am, and pretty much every stranger calls me "sir". It makes me feel like it's completely pointless to even continue transitioning.

I've always felt very alienated from the trans girls that I typically see online who put a lot of stock and effort into being as feminine as possible. I've pretty much never entertained the idea because I know it's just going to make me feel worse that I can't convincingly "be a girl" enough to average passers-by. Everyone else seems to have it so easy. Meanwhile, I'm standing over here in the corner with my weird-looking features and weird-looking boobs and weird fashion sense and not fitting any description.

It doesn't seem like anyone's ever going to notice they're not talking to a man when they talk to me. Try as I might, it rarely, if ever happens. I don't feel comfortable using the women's restroom because I don't pass. I'll get yelled at or kicked out or have the police called on me for being a pervert, or something. I managed to do it approximately once at a university when the bathroom was completely empty, and even then I was panicking so hard it took me three times as long to take a piss. There's been so many times I've contemplated dropping out of society entirely just so I don't have to worry about ever being seen again by anyone. Hell, my biggest life goal is to build a house in the middle of a large plot of land so I never have to be looked at by anyone, ever.

I'm still afraid people would just say I'm an asshole and a traitor to queer people for having these feelings. It's why I just try to keep a low profile. My existence feels like it won't ever bring anything to both queer communities and the world at large and I've almost never felt welcome anywhere I've been, digital or physical. I wish I could let go of the fear and just be Me. Ivy, the goth knifemaker. Ivy, the woman. Ivy, the force for good in the world.

Those chances were lost a long time ago, erased by forces I did not create nor did I control or participate in. It's just the status quo, and I'll never break that on my own.

#trans #transfemme #queer theory #rant

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 7 months

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Pedantic, chapter one - a Malevolent AU

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems.

Arthur is also going blind, with a rare genetic condition that can’t be fixed.

The looming depression is bad. He can’t imagine a life where he can’t create anymore. Arthur nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new.

Great, right? Now, if only this John Doe weren’t clearly hiding something so wild that not even PI Parker Yang can dig it out…

Chapter One: Time for a bet.

AO3

----------

Arthur couldn’t see his view.

He knew it was good. He could still see when picking out the penthouse three years ago. He also knew it was a complete waste for him to hang on to this view now when he couldn’t see it, but he didn’t give a fuck. It felt like revenge against whatever force saw fit to do this to him, by depriving some other bastard of a view like this.

I’m telling you, it isn’t compliant, the robotic voice in his head said, synthesizing that fucking American’s words in the least emotional manner possible.

Arthur had never heard John’s actual voice, but was certain it wasn’t emotionless. “It does. I checked it against CIC standards, and YTM, and even the elusive Carney and Dobbs scale. You’re wrong.”

No, you are, argued the distant engineer.

Arthur didn’t have time for this. “Listen, Mister Doe, it is two o’clock in the morning here. I know damn well what I sent you works. So the problem is on your end, and I expect you to figure it out. ”

Silence. A long moment of silence.

Arthur knew precisely two things about John Doe. One, he was some sort of security whiz, capable of sniffing out backdoors and potential risks before even the pro hackers did, and two, John Doe absolutely hated his guts.

It was personal. Had to be. He never agreed to anything, always dragged out every damned conversation. Damned pedantic son of a bitch.

Finally, an answer: I think you need to check your code.

Check his code! Arthur did not need to check his code. “Excuse me?”

Check your code.

“No. It is two o’clock in the morning here, Doe.”

It is noon here, Lester. I have four hours to get this implemented. If you don’t fix your fucking code, I will.

And there we go. Pointless threats. Inappropriate language.

The sucky thing was, while normally altering code like this without approval would be enough to get someone fired, John Doe could get away with it.

Doe had come out of nowhere; Arthur had never heard of him, and he’d made no waves, but boom, old Hastur had promoted him to chief of cybersecurity for the whole company, and evidently paid him enough to live comfortably in the Upper East Side, Manhattan.

And Arthur had to admit: Doe was some kind of golden boy. He knew his stuff. It may feel like he sprang fully-formed from Hastur’s head, but he knew cybersecurity. It was like he had a fucking pipeline to the bad guys, the way he was able to spot exploits before anyone else could grab hold.

What Doe didn’t know was art. Or beauty. Or utility. Or any of the things Arthur’s entire life had revolved around since he was twelve and used Python to design his first Linux GUI.

Arthur sighed. He turned away from his glass walls and wraparound balcony, from the view of Melbourne at night which he could not see, and made his way to his computer.

His monitor—enormous, because all the text had to be, as well—booted up, and he sighed as he entered the usual frustrating and painful balance of trying to focus, squinting, dealing with the pain of the monitor’s brightness (without which he couldn’t see the damn screen) and adjusting the size of the text until he could handle it and read through what he’d written.

Gods, this was a gorgeous design. Lullabye, he called it, because it was designed to help after a DDOS attack, to put all relevant and endangered systems right to sleep, cutting off access, stopping whatever invasion was going on right in its tracks.

It was flawless. It was efficient. It was beautiful. It was a hell of a major project to go out on.

He could not spot whatever put Doe in a tizzy. Fuck.

The easy solution would be to give Doe permission to patch it, requiring detailed notes of what changes he made.

The medium-hard solution would be to give him permission to patch it, but live, with Arthur sharing his screen, so Doe couldn’t do anything unmonitored (and maybe Arthur could finally understand how Doe thought).

The dangerous solution was to refuse him, foment more conflict for no pay out, and watch Doe have his way, anyway.

Damn it. But it’s perfect, he thought, unable to keep from whining a little.

Arthur sighed. Carcosa had been good to him. Hastur had rewarded his artistry over and over. The ungrateful thing would be not to trust Doe. “Fine,” Arthur muttered. “Cassilda, email John Doe.”

Emailing, she replied through the implants in his head, voice as musical as he designed her to be, damn near singing.

“Permission granted to make changes to the code as long as we do a screenshare and all changes are approved by me. Send.”

Silence for a moment.

About fucking time, Lester. Here’s my number. Text is fucking faster.

This guy knew his stuff, but he did not know how to be fucking appropriate in a fucking business setting. “Is he serious?” Arthur said. Maybe he did spring fully-formed from Hastur’s head, he snorted. Being a year old would explain it all. “Reply: If you’re trying to cover your ass legally, that won’t work with a company phone.” It was both sarcasm and a warning. Also, logic. Touché!

Arthur’s smugness lasted all of the 60 seconds it took for Doe to receive and reply: I have my own personal phone and so do you. Don’t be a dick. Let’s get this done.

How did… What? Why did Doe know that? “I’m not a dick,” Arthur muttered, trying to decide if this was a great big personal information violation, or…

Well, it was, but did it really matter? He could change the number. Block Doe. Whatever he wanted to do here. And it would be quicker. The Hyades global network was faster than any email because Arthur had helped design it. (Hastur had given him an incredible bonus that year.) “Cassilda, send Doe my phone number.” Okay, why had he done that? Why? “Because I’m not a dick,” he answered himself. “I’m an idiot.”

The reply took literally as long as Doe needed to save the contact to his phone. Nice to meet you.

“We haven’t met yet, Doe,” said Arthur, replying through Cassilda.

Call me John. Now let’s fix this code.

“Damn you, there’s nothing to fix!”

An exclamation mark! A swear word! Looks like I finally got some emotion out of you.

Arthur gaped at nothing. “I will have you know that you get plenty of emotion from me. Primarily, frustration.”

Glad to know you’re not frigid. Okay, I’m sending the screenshare request now.

“Frigid? What the fuck… Wait, wait, give me a moment. Got it, got it. You prick.”

Better believe I am. Now, pay attention. Line 1004. Doe—John—read the code to him via text, because Cassilda would read it next.

Arthur paled. It had a typo.

He couldn’t see the typo. The font showed the difference between a lower-case l and a numeral 1, but he couldn’t see it.

He leaned in, face nearly to the monitor, peering. The serifs might as well have all been erased.

See it? Good. Next we’ll jump down to line 8524.

Arthur didn’t reply. He swallowed.

It was another typo, but this one… he didn’t need to know this was the big one. The typo on 1004 just rendered that bit of code inoperable; nothing would happen. But this one…

This one. Instead of a semi colon, it was a colon, which meant…

This is the big one, said John unnecessarily. Arthur didn’t reply. This one means this process keeps running, and the particular ping it creates to find the invading bug also leaves it open to malicious injection.

“I was right,” Arthur whispered, because he had been. He’d thought, deep down, this would be his last major project.

About what?

Arthur hadn’t meant to send that. He leaned back in his chair, reducing the familiar, beloved language on the screen to blurry dots and squiggles, and was surprised to find he was crying. He wiped his face, furious. “Nothing.”

Tell me. It could be relevant.

Fuck him. “It’s not relevant.”

It might be. We’re getting this fixed so you can go to bed and I can go get drunk. Come on, Lester.

He sighed. “Arthur. Just Arthur.”

All right, Just Arthur. What were you right about?

Arthur checked. Cassilda confirmed that “just” had been capitalized. Like receiving a knighthood, or something.

He laughed weakly. “Didn’t know you were funny, Doe.” A pause. “John.”

Only when it’s worth my while.

So… well, this moment was certainly worth his while. They had three hours left to implement this thing. “Just that this was my last big hurrah. That’s all. I knew. I knew it. Just didn’t want to know it, if you get what I mean.”

Why the hell had he said that?

Arthur sighed. There was no undo send with Hyades and the Carcosa phone line (Dancer—it had long put Apple out of business). It was better, Arthur believed and had argued, to have a record of communication, even when things were sent by accident. Better to have that record, legal and powerful, then try to handle the fallout of removed knowledge and the potential for deceit.

It doesn’t have to be, fucking hell.

That made him laugh for some reason. “Right. Sure.”

It doesn’t. I’m guessing the coding doesn’t work so great with Cassilda for you?

No, it had not worked with Cassilda. Cassilda could read it all out (Line 147, from enum import Enum semicolon. Line 148, class Day(Enum) colon. Line 149, all capitalized letters, MONDAY space equal sign space the numeral 1).

Yeah, he couldn’t do that. It was like trying to listen to an audiobook one godsdamned letter at a time. “It doesn’t work for what I do.”

You just need someone who knows how you think who can put your stuff into code, then. You’re good at this, Arthur.

“I’m going blind, John.” Which of course he knew. Everyone knew. Fucking TIME magazine knew.

So?

“Excuse me?”

You a betting man?

“Oh, what the hell are you saying?” Arthur muttered. “Don’t send that!”

It’s already sent, Arthur. My apologies.

He sighed. “No, it’s fine. Continue to send automatically unless instructed not to. I guess we’re doing this.”

John was scrolling on his end, highlighting bits of code and fixing them. It wasn’t a lot. The whole thing was nearly 100 million lines of code, and Arthur had made a total of four mistakes. That wasn’t bad.

Except that when Arthur could see, he never made any.

The code scrolled. Too fast; he didn’t have time to focus on what John was doing (and doing quickly, with an ease that spoke of artistry the idiot himself did not understand). The next generation, folks, picking up the slack.

One wild, intrusive thought of throwing himself off his expensive balcony later, Arthur shook it off. “What bet?”

Let’s design something together.

Oh, this could go so badly. “What?”

Don’t know yet, but here’s the catch.

“Of course there’s a catch.”

Heh, heh, heh.

What a silly text to send. Arthur’s lips quirked. “Out with it, you dork.”

You share your vision with me, and I design it. Your specs. I won’t interfere with your idea of beauty or whatever you call it. You stick to the parts you love—making it pretty, and how the user accesses it. I’ll make sure it works.

Arthur swallowed. He’d never successfully designed with anybody. It always fell apart. “I don’t know.”

Let’s make it big. We won’t announce it. If it falls apart and I lose the bet, I’ll do whatever you want. Quit. Shave my head. Whatever.

Arthur laughed. “Shave your head?”

But if I win—

Arthur waited. He frowned. “Did you fall on your overlarge head and die?”

Shut up. If I win, you have to keep creating shit, and I get to be smug at you over coffee.

Eh? “That’s—” He didn’t know what to say. “What kind of a stupid bet is that?”

Beneficial to us both. You think my best work isn’t done on your coattails? It is. My star rises and falls with yours. I need you, and for once, you need me, too.

That was too much, and Arthur walked away from the desk. He had to pace.

This shouldn’t be personal, but it was. “How the hell was that both flattering and infuriating at the same… need… what in fuck’s name…”

Of course, Casdilda sent that.

By all means, keep going. This is funny as fuck.

“Fuck you.” Arthur sat back down. He was shaken. He felt like he was a million years old.

It’s cleaned up. Do you want to test it?

“No, it’s ready to go live. I… I trust you.” Because he had to, at least in this. But this bet… insane. Insulting. Ingratiating? What the hell? How was he supposed to take this? It was the weirdest thing he’d ever been offered.

And it’s implemented. Congratulations. Updates are going out now. Got any champagne?

“It’s three in the morning. What I have is bed. We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, Doe.”

It’s John. Dick.

Arthur decided not to answer out of pure pettiness, and was still churning the entire conversation in his head when he fell asleep.

------

CHAPTER TWO

Notes:

This was posted on the road and written on my phone, so I beg your patience as I correct inevitable coding errors typos. Also, the tech stuff is made up. Just pretend it’s an alternative future. We’re all here for John and Arthur, anyway.

#john x arthur #arthur x john #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent fic #malevolent fanfic #john doe malevolent #arthur lester #kayne malevolent #malevolent au #pedantic fic

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sturmovik · 10 months

Text

Rambling about Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury’s ending

I've been absolutely loving every episode of the season up until Episode 23. After watching that episode, I felt a bit... disappointed? frustrated? It was like ep.23 was trying to cram Gundam Unicorn's 1-hour final battle into a 20-minute episode and it didn't feel as satisfying as the previous episodes.

I didn’t have any problems with the plot beats, just the pacing really, it felt pretty rushed - that’s where my worries started. The pacing was like they're trying to wrap up as many plot threads in case they don't get another season, while still wasting time introducing new elements to the story (like SAL apparently being massive despite being a non-entity for 90% of the story, oh and they have a giant laser! surprise!), as a result we lost some precious time that would’ve been better spent on the main conflict between. I was bummed Quiet Zero was disabled so quickly, and was totally unconvinced Prospera would suddenly back down after never being able to confront Delling AND possibly losing Eri. Not to mention the time wasted on Lauda’s pointless tantrum.

Then we go to my post-episode 24 thoughts:

Man did the last 4 episodes felt incredibly rushed. I didn’t notice it much in 21-22 cuz I was still giving the series the benefit of the doubt but after watching 23-24 it becomes apparent these last episodes were really sprinting to the finish.

It feels like they wanted to have an ending that could be considered conclusive - wrapping up as many ends they could - in case they dont get to do more G-Witch, but also they made it so that everyone who's still alive gets to survive to the end so that they can expand into more stories later.

The combination of those two factors are what ultimately leave me a bit disappointed, but I'm still surprised at how well they managed to stick the landing despite all that; it wasn't ideal or amazing but i'm thankful it didnt end terribly. I actually love the forgiveness ending for Prospera and Eri, it's consistent with Shakespeare's "The Tempest" BUT because the end was rushed it doesn't feel completely earned, like there shouldve been a longer period of rage/vengeance and at least an intense emotional confrontation with both Kenanji and Delling. G-Witch needed at least 12 more episodes, preferably more.

Given how great the first 20 episodes were, you can bet they would've had more character developments, conflicts, twists, and major deaths IF ONLY Sunrise gave them 48-50 episodes instead of 24. But I guess they didnt want to take that risk. I kinda hope the success of Vinland Saga S2 gives them some more confidence if they ever decide to do a sequel series.

I mean, they have to do a sequel series and/or spin-offs, right? I'd be seriously disappointed if they don't; the Ad Stella timeline is one of the most interesting and well-written Gundam AUs they've ever created, and my personal favorite AU. So much potential for many different stories in this timeline.

Also, the ending scene w/ SuleMio was cute af, but no kiss? not even on the cheek? booo

Final verdict:

Prologue + Episode 1-21: 9/10, my favorite Gundam AU series

Episode 22-24: 6.5/10, barely sticks the landing to get a good enough ending. Needs a sequel series to become truly satisfying and get some new writers to help Okouchi because he seriously fumbled these last episodes.

#gundam #mobile suit gundam #anime #the witch from mercury #spoilers #g-witch #g-witch spoilers #rambling #kinda disappointed #sigh #the witch from mercury spoilers

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notstilinski · 2 years

Text

They Both Die At The End Starters !

Taken from the 2017 novel by Adam Silvera, They Both Die At The End! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit!

“They’ve even been drilling into my head that I should pretend I’m the main character of a story that nothing bad ever happens to, most especially death, because the hero has to be around to save the day.”

“I guess what I’ll miss the most are the wasted opportunities to live my life and the lost potential to make great friends with everyone I sat next to for four years.”

“No one should spend their last hours second guessing people.”

“I think I’ll get a twelve to three shift where I do nothing but tell people their lives are over.”

I’m a ticking time bomb, and even if you’re not blowing up when I do, you might get burned—maybe literally.”

“You’re not invincible, dumbass!”

“It’s mad pressure to do all my living in one day.”

“I read our love wrong, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I know no one lives forever, but you should live longer than others. You matter more than other people. That’s life.”

“I’m dying and we can’t trade lives.”

“I lived through my funeral, but I wish I was already dead.”

“No. The chance you might have to watch me die.”

“Surviving showed me it’s better to be alive wishing I was dead than dying wishing I could live forever.”

“Bucket lists are pointless. You’re not gonna get everything done. You gotta go with the flow.”

“That’s a pretty dark bright-side.”

“Sorry if I pressured you to leave. You asked me to get you out of there, but I’m not sure you meant it.”

“I just don’t think I should be the judge of who actually needs my help or not, like they should do a dance or sing me a song to prove they’re worthy. Asking for help when you need it should be enough.”

“This is my spot. I come here once or twice a week. I get to say stuff like ‘I’ll have the usual.’”

“Don’t waste your breath on a question like that. Just come out and say whatever you want.”

“Nah. Leaving means living before you die. Let’s bounce.”

“It sucks how we’re all being raised to die.”

“I keep my photos in black and white because my life lost color when they died.”

“I felt unwanted, frustrated, lost, and I needed to take it out on someone. But that’s not me. It was a glitch.”

Yeah, but I wanted every possible minute with them, even if it meant being left with the memory of watching them all die in front of me.”

“Okay. I’ve signed away my right to bitch I die.”

“I feel like Indiana Jones right now.”

“Anyway, I hijacked your moment. Sorry.”

“We never act. Only react once we realize the clock is ticking.”

“Could’ve been at the cemetery sooner if a hearse carried us.”

“Weird question: Do you believe in the afterlife?”

“There’s only really room for one. Get your own grave.”

“I’ve spent so much time being pissed at my family for leaving me, Mateo. Everyone’s always running their mouth about survivors guilt but…”

“I was nine when I bothered my dad about love. I wanted to know if it was under the couch or high up in the closest where u couldn’t reach yet. He didn’t say that ‘love is within’ or ‘love is all around you.’”

“How do you know when love is love?”

“I don’t want you to see me die, but I can’t watch you die either.”

“Why can’t we have a chance?”

“You really think you can beat Death in an arm-wrestling match?”

“And you don’t need the same blood to lose a part of yourself when someone dies.”

“I wish this had some kick to it. I can’t be sober when I loose you.”

“To smiling while we can.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I know there’s no time to waste, but I had to be sure you are who I thought you were. The best thing about dying is your friendship.”

“Affection from millions and intimacy from one special person are completely different beasts.”

“I don’t know every detail about his past. But what I’ve gotten out of him in one day is more than I feel like I ever deserved. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“You’re begging for them, right? You don’t give a shit about me.”

“Are you critiquing how I saved your life?”

“The suspense of everything is killing me. I can’t take being out here.”

“But if for some reason this plan doesn’t work, we need to promise to find each other in the afterlife. There has to be an afterlife, (Name), because it’s the only thing that makes dying this young fair.”

“I would’ve loved you if we had more time.”

“Come on, (Name), it’s me. You hear me, right? It’s (Name). Wake up now. Please wake up.”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #starter sentences #ask meme #ask prompts #inbow memes #inbox prompts #novel sentence starters

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withered-primrose · 2 years

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🩰 ー 𝗚𝗢𝗨𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗘 | sabo x reader

and the only thing that remains with him is his memories of you painted on his canvas.

[ ʚїɞ ] 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: artist!sabo x she/her f!reader

[ ʚїɞ ] 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁: victorian era setting?, angst, crack english, rushed ending.

[ ʚїɞ ] 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: feeling sm love for sabo today, and i cannot stop thinking about artist sabo always dedicating his pieces to his s/o <3 though, this idea went down to angst aha. first post aswell, enjoy!

Sabo added a shade of yellow, rendering the art he’s currently working on.

You laid down on the shore, your satin parasol protecting you from the sun. The clear lake glittering from glee like you do, and he admired you from afar, like an angel unable to be reached. It has always been you, whom he got inspirations from. He added the shade of viridescent, depicting the greenland you’re sitting on, that complements the yellow polonaise you were wearing.

He added a monochromous color, putting his emotions in the painting.

At days you were a lady on duty, and at nights you were only his. You'd sneak out from your window, as dangerous as it may be but you’d take the risk, only for him. Both you and Sabo would stroll in the garden. He’d talk about his brothers while you’d talk about how much you missed him the whole day. He'd tell you how much he loves you, while you’d tell him how much you long and desire for him. If the gods ever bestow you both the time of the night, it would be more than just a simple chat. Your fingers ghostly touched the scar on his face, as he was mesmerized with yours.

Now, Sabo traces your outline with his fingers, having the phobia of forgetting what you look like. He screamed, knocking the easel down. The painting of you now all smudge and dirty. He slammed the palette out of frustration that he couldn’t get your features right.

He presented you the painting of a lady playing with the parasol by the lake. You were fascinated. For all of the times you've been secretly meeting with him, this was the first time you were introduced to his skill. So, you wasted no time to ask him to portray you on a canvas again, "Would you do the honor of painting my existence with the hues of your heart?"

His stare burned in your soul, as your figure burned in his mind. Sabo never taking his gaze away from you, memorizing every inch of you. There were only two flair in the room. There was you. And there was him. The art, and the artist; the poet and her prose. You continously ran your fingers across the piano, hitting the keys where there is rich note and harmony. He lingers at you for a moment, before reverting his attention back to the canvas, basing it with a dark tone.

There is a confining atmosphere in the room. The once tranquility Sabo felt was replaced with disturbance. Yet, he took another blank canvas, planning to redo everything from the top. But his heavy heart refrain him to do so. Thus, he only sat down and stare at the canvas with somnolent eyes.

You were once the reason why the contrasting colors harmonize together. Now, you are the reason why his work is full of monotone colors.

You were alone, crying in the garden to your heart's content when he first saw you. Fair and flawless, was the apt definition of your beauty. There was a tingling sensation within him when your eyes met his; and that, was the beginning of everything.

But you'd beg to differ. On the contrary of what he thought, you think of yourself as someone full of imperfections.

You were a lost soul, looking for something worthy in this pointless life. Then came along Sabo; putting on depiction and meaning in your abstract world.

Sabo closed his eyes, trying to think of somethingーanything that may bring him at ease. There, he saw your silhouette. He tried to extend his hands out for you, but you declined. Or was it you who really declined? He snapped his eyes open, not wanting to reminisce anymore. Though it seems like the odds isn't on his favor, he saw you standing in the corner, examining all of his artworks influenced by you. You turn to look at him with a bright smile, with a beaming eyes he once loved.

He picked up the rigger brush, sinking it halfway to the black gouache paint. He signed his signature on the right side low of the canvas, finishing off his piece. While your fingers slowed down its pace, ending the piano composition you did. "You were playing so lovely." he praised. And on the canvas portrayed a young woman with her baroque piano. The painting was well-detailed, tones and textures well defined. Even the brush strokes that were visible gave emotion to the painting. So once again you stare deeply at his eyes, asking him the most anticipated question you had in mind. To which he replied, "I have always been yours." and you even need not to ask.

There was a crimson red rose in his hand. Now that you were his, no thorn can harm both of you. He was expecting no one else besides you, there you stood before him like an alluring statue meant to be displayed in a museum. But only for him to admire. Sabo led you to his humble art gallery, yet filled with big dreams.

You were the response to his dreams.

Art is beauty; and beauty is feeling. Amongst these masterpieces in the room, he only stared at you and nothing else; you were the art to his eyes.

Amazed you were at that day, and Sabo made sure to bury this moment in his memories.

The air feels heavy. Nothing around him makes sense. He can see you everywhere, it seems like you have been waiting for him. He tried not to let his illusions provoke him. He isn't crazy, he just believes in love that made him a fool, that's all. He snapped again from his hallucination, trying to fixate at the canvas in front of him. And from his vision he saw a lady in white, dancing along the pond in a one starry night. Water lilies accompanying her, fireflies illuminating her.

Sabo had turned you into art, the idea of you now living forever.

At the night both of you lived the moment as if tomorrow stored nothing for you and him, he held you tight, now dreaming for the future. "Shall the blues ever try to damage you, I will be there to paint it over with the warms of my love." the stars witnessed the oath of this young man, that you giggled at his archaic way of words. "Sabo... Remember not to make promises when you're happy." And to your response he laugh, "My dear, it is not a promise but a commitment."

In his mind, your face looks distorted. Subtle voice echoed throughout his head. Times like this, you'd pull him into your touch with words of reassurance calming him. You lived for him as he lived for you.

Now that she whose reason he was living for is long gone, not even his artworks made sense. Sabo turned to look at the other side of the room, wherein a portrait of a lady he loves until this day hanged on the wall in a picture frame.

Until this day, and maybe even in the future, he could still see the horror in your face. He could still hear the horror in your voice. If only he had been careful. If only he had been by your side. He could've saved you from the macabre coup in that one night.

In that perilous night, many dreams and even hopes were torn apart. It felt like the able to express himself was taken away from him; and in that perilous night, you were taken away from him.

That was the beginning that ended everything.

Now, you live in the memories you encraved in his mind, that he painted on his canvas.

#sabo x reader #sabo x you #one piece #one piece x reader #op sabo #x reader #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece angst #one piece x you #angst #sabo #one piece sabo

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unboundpower · 11 months

Text

You and Me - CH 4

I didn't proofread this because I wanted to finish & post it asap since it's overdue, so sorry in advance if you find any weirdly-structured sentences or redundant word usages. The general gist of the chapter should be "perceivable" either way. Maybe in the future I'll go back, do revisions and update this. I'll add an addendum if I do.

No matter if it was scorching or freezing, he couldn’t abandon his daily task of looking after the Son family farm. Its matriarch would destroy his eardrums with her yelling if she even had a slight suspicion he was shirking his duties. Though, the Saiyan definitely did want to certain days…

Toiling away wasn’t the issue, but the fact that he was stepping in the same old footsteps figuratively and literally of a particular man never ceased in glaring at him. He often had to remind himself that he was doing it for the sake of Chi Chi and…he supposed their youngest son, even if boredom and at worst frustration begun to eat away at his thoughts.

Then again, when weren’t they plaguing him? Vegito couldn’t recall the last time he felt any significant enjoyment at any point, after his battle against that twisted Kai. Yet, he couldn’t in good conscious say that he had fun during that time. Zamasu wasn’t even all that tough, and the weight of what was at stake was too distracting anyway.

A gust of chilling wind blew past, stirring his bangs and taking the man out of his daydreams. Looking up, he noticed that the grey clouds had bunched up together even more, further darkening the sky and casting a rather gloomy atmosphere. If it was any colder, he could believe it would start snowing in the next few seconds. He still found it best to quit for today; the soil had enough management and new seeds had long since been planted. He wasn’t in much of a mood to stick around.

In the large shed standing some distance away from the fields, the tools were re-stored by Vegito and he made sure to lock the structure when he was done. He made the mistake of forgetting and leaving without doing so, regardless of how pointless he believed it was to begin with. Up on this mountain miles away from any civilization, it was only the Son family living here. The only visitors they got were wild animals, and unless a bunch of boars suddenly thought to start their own farm, it wasn’t like there was the possibility of their equipment getting stolen.

Vegito knew better than to argue with Chi Chi though. It was always a waste of time and energy in the end.

The area became a distant blur as he rose into the air and flew off. His destination was West City, or rather, the outskirts of it. There, hidden within the mountainous forest terrain, was a small capsule house that was the closest thing he could call home.

He technically shouldn’t even have it, but Bulma was always the sort to rant and rave when things weren’t going her way…or people didn’t bend to her whims. Vegito was very annoyed when she threw a box of capsules at him during a verbal dispute between them sometime ago, but seeing as she never took them back or even asked for them, why would he look a gift horse in the mouth? A sheltered place with a bed sure beat sleeping on the ground, in a cave, or in a tree.

Entering the house and shutting the door behind him, Vegito entered his bedroom, briefly stopping to stare discontentedly at his dirtied visage in the mirror on his dresser. The stomach-turning feeling of humiliation surfacing caused him to quickly turn away, and his brown tail to whip about behind him. Pushing it down, he focused on cleaning himself up. After being out in the cold, a hot shower sounded pleasant.

Around 30 minutes later, Vegito crashed onto the living room couch, freshly groomed and clothed in casual wear. Lying back and taking a moment to breathe in, the silence of the compact room dawned on him. This time, he didn’t care enough to turn on the TV and put it onto a random channel he never watched. But, typically when he was left entirely alone to his thoughts, they surely took advantage of the opportunity.

First, his perpetual sense of boredom shone far more brightly now. The memories of events long gone played in the shadows of his mind. What he wouldn’t give to find someone he could fight against, someone powerful who would challenge him, but…there was literally no one on the planet who could.

Something that would be as equally engaging was he getting to train with the universe’s Angel once more, but that wasn’t a possibility right now. Whis and the Destroyer God he babysat haven’t visited the planet in over a month. Bulma had a device she could use to contact him, but she either didn’t feel like doing it or misplaced it, so he couldn’t rely on her.

Vegito was left to try and improve on his own, be it through exercise or image training sessions, but neither could ever compare to true combat. His Saiyan blood longed for it, the thrill that never let him down…alas, all he could do was deal with it. Some days, it was ok. Others…he could swear his sanity was slowly crumbling away.

Unconsciously, his fingers were tapping erratically against the couch. In seconds, it was like the silence deafened his ears. Was he imagining it, or were his ears truly ringing…?

He shook his head, and sharply sat up. Vegito reached for the TV remote-

*bzzzz*

-and froze. On the coffee table, his phone vibrated before stopping. It took a moment to set in, but he realized he must have received a text message. A rarity. Picking it up, he unlocked the device and searched for that messaging app he needed to open.

[ Amita > Hey. What are you up to right now? ]

A noise of confusion rumbled from his throat, and he stared at the screen with a furrowed brow. Recognition settled across his features in the next instant, as he recalled the name and the face attached to it. Her…Amita. His memories came together to show what had occurred between them a day ago. She had asked for his number…for some reason. Right.

And, he gave it to her. For some reason. He still didn’t have a decisive answer as to why. Even so, he used a finger to slowly tap a reply to send. He wasn’t used to sending texts, just answering calls…

[ > Nothing. Sitting around, bored ]

Autocorrection made the grammar intelligible. He waited, but another text came just as he blinked.

[ Amita > Do you want to meet up at a café? Hang out for a while? ]

He blinked. A rather sudden request, but…he couldn’t think of a reason to say no. Plus, his curiosity of the woman has now resurged. If they were to hang out, then maybe they could have a chat.

[ > Sounds better than what I’m doing. Which café? ]

༻ ❁ ༺

It normally was a pain that he had to, should he choose to not use his capsule car, descend from the sky to walk places in public. Flying was so much faster than sticking to a sidewalk and waiting for traffic signals to allow passage, but on this occasion he felt a little thankful for it. It gave him some time to get his bearings in order.

Vegito stepped over a crosswalk, intently looking out beyond the crowd of passersby to locate the café Amita informed him of. It was apparently a calm place that normally didn’t have customers flooding it, and the cheap menu had quality food to offer. Sounded decent enough to him. He never liked being in a closed off space, surrounded by a bunch of strangers.

He also didn’t have that much cash on hand to spend on anything that wasn’t groceries. And even that was pushing it.

The Saiyan made sure to watch the street corners, and did finally spot the sign Amita described to him. Loosening the scarf around his face, he used his free hand to pull one of the double doors of the establishment open, and eagerly soaked in the warmth that rolled across his skin. Surveying the tables and booths, he saw that there was indeed hardly any customers around. Most of the café was empty, allowing him to easily spot who he was supposed to meet up with.

She was sitting alone at a booth towards the back, leaned back and gazing out of a window at the street. Vegito wasn’t sure when she got there or how long she’s been waiting, but it’d be best to not keep her waiting. He was curious exactly why she wanted to see him; he’s been curious…

“Hello sir. What would you like?” The cashier greeted him with a cheerful smile as he approached. Vegito took a moment to look over the pastries and other baked goods displayed in the long glass case next to the counter, registering in the moment that he wasn’t actually too hungry. It wouldn’t hurt to grab a few things to snack on at least.

“I’ll have…two blueberry muffins.” A glance at the chalkboard menu presented behind the cashier revealed the drinks available. “And some hot chocolate.” It was even colder outside compared to this morning, and though he could flare his ki to easily warm himself, he had the hunch doing that in public wouldn’t be wise. So, a warm beverage was the next best thing. He didn’t care much for tea, and disliked coffee.

“Sounds good! Would you like a topping for the hot chocolate? Whipped cream, marshmallows…?”

“Nah.”

“Ok. I’ll get everything together for you in just a moment…” The woman assembled his order within the next minute, placing a sealed cup and two wrapped muffins before him. “That’ll be 450 zeni.”

It was a good thing he remembered to grab his wallet before he left. Reaching down into his left pocket, Vegito opened it and paused for a second to count out the amount.

“Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy.”

Turning away from the counter with his purchase in tow, he walked towards Amita’s booth. She was still staring out of the window, and now that he was closer, he could make out the half-lidded expression she maintained. Because of that, and her lopsided frown, she looked awfully….

Melancholic? Vegito raised a brow, but she turned towards him upon surely hearing his footsteps growing in volume, and that air about her was swiftly gone. While he didn’t quite know what to make of it, it was such a meager thing that wasn’t his business anyway, so he saw no point in calling attention to it.

“Thanks for the invite. This place doesn’t seem bad.” He slid onto the cushion seat facing opposite of her, and laid his items on the table. He could see that she had ordered a cinnamon roll and a beverage for herself. Directing his gaze back up, both of their eyes met in direct contact. Amita blinked rapidly and turned her face away towards the table.

“No problem. This is the only café I ever bother with.” She responded before taking a sip of her drink. Despite the fact that she was definitely staring at him just now, he was amused by the show of shyness on her part. Then again, in the past few encounters they’ve had, Amita had already given off the impression of not being the sociable kind of person.

Which just further made her seeming interest in HIM all the more confusing. In spite of that, he was only encouraged to get some semblance of an answer. He couldn’t turn down a challenge…but first, to make the atmosphere less awkward. The warrior wasn’t a master of small talk, but he could try it at least.

“What drink did you get?”

“…Hot cocoa. I don’t like coffee.” She rotated her cup to slush the liquid around. A half chuckle blew from him.

“Same. It’s way better than coffee.” They found a shared interest, and so soon at that. A promising start, if nothing else. A beat of silence passed.

“So, why did you want to talk to me more?”

She said something like that, as her reasoning for wanting his number. He watched her look back at him, somewhat stunned like he had flashed a bright light. For as much as she didn’t emote with her face overall, her golden brown eyes surely were very expressive.

“You’re…interesting. There’s a lot of things about you that make me curious.”

“Oh? Well, I’m not surprised. I am pretty fascinating.” Vegito smirked, though it was obstructed by the muffin he rose to his mouth so he could take a bite. Naturally, the Saiyan took any opportunity to fluff himself up.

Amita’s lips twitched, and amusement slipped onto her countenance. He chewed and swallowed his food before speaking up again.

“What’s making you curious of me?”

“…For starters, how strong you are.”

That brought him a pause, which only lasted for the blink of an eye. He detected an underlying meaning in her words, and saw fit to draw it out.

“What can I say? I do like working out. You’ve never seen a muscular guy before?”

“It’s not like that. I know you’re strong. Way stronger than the average person at least.”

Ah. Things just got more interesting.

Vegito chuckled. He had an idea where this was going, but he would still play dumb. “You say that with a lot of certainty. What makes you so sure?”

Now, she seemed to hesitate. Amita’s lips twisted once more, and her arms moved to rest over one another on the portion of the table in front of her. Whatever she was thinking about, it was like she was debating on how to go about forming her next sentence. When she did, her voice was lowered.

“My third eye. You remember I have it, right?”

“Yeah.” He took a swig of his drink. It would’ve been a bit hard for him to forget since it surprised him. He questioned how relevant it was to the current topic at hand though. “What about it?”

“I don’t know the science behind it, but I have this…special kind of vision with it. It lets me see the ki of living things.”

THIS made his eyes widen.

“You know what ki is?”

“Yes. It was taught to me back home, when I was kid.” Amita lifted her hands to part the puffy bangs covering her forehead, just enough so the eye could be exposed and open comfortably. The golden iris of it matched his gaze. What a development this was! It wasn’t everyday…or ever really, that he came across someone who had deeper knowledge of the body’s inner workings. Someone who appeared more or less ordinary on the surface. His own interest was steadily climbing up slopes.

“You’re suppressing it, but I can tell that you have a lot of power just because of how…dense your ki is.”

She could even tell that he was hiding his power? What a call out. Unknowingly to the man, his head tilted. If she gauged his level of strength back at that quick moment when the wind made her hair uncover her third eye, it was no wonder that she was keen on learning more. At this point, he discarded the innocent façade.

“That’s a neat skill of yours. And you’re right, I am suppressing it. I assume you can sense ki too?”

“Yeah.” She closed the special optic and recovered it with her bangs. “It was a part of the lessons. Sat through a lot of those…”

“Well well…” Vegito sat up straighter. “Meeting someone new who’s familiar with ki control definitely wasn’t something I predicted, but, here we are.”

The atmosphere had changed, into something Vegito couldn’t quite pinpoint. Suddenly, it felt like he’s known Amita for longer than he realistically has. Being so used to what Earthlings would label the extraordinary or flat-out unbelievable, yet getting to talk about it so casually with her despite the fact they were still mostly strangers…maybe that was it. They had another shared interest, except this one was far more personal to him because it was so inextricably a part of his life – his existence – as a fighter. One could say it was a part of his identity itself. And, he could talk about it with someone who wasn’t associated with them…?

“A lot of people on this planet are ignorant, yeah. But me? Not so much.” Amita remarked, eating more of her cinnamon roll. “I know all about being able to fly using ki, and using ki attacks too. In case you were wondering.”

“Heh…I should probably be surprised, but I’m not.” That invoked more questions to mentally spiral about. Vegito finished one of his muffins, chewing the mash on one side of his mouth so he could speak more clearly.

“Do you practice martial arts, by chance?”

“I used to. Kind of still do.” She winced. “I fell out of it years ago for…reasons, and haven’t gotten fully back into it. Lacking the passion and whatnot.”

“I see.”

There was a story there, but it wasn’t his place to ask about it.

“What about you?” She hunched forwards in a lax manner.

“You could say I am. A martial artist, I mean. Though, I’ve deviated from the standard path of one…”

“Let me guess. Got too powerful to stick to the mundane ways?”

“…That’s one way of putting it.” Vegito snorted. There were so many details to this topic that they could stack up and rival a mountain in height, but he couldn’t begin to fathom how to voice any of them to her. She probably wouldn’t even believe him anyway. Certainly not right now.

“Did you used to have a sensei?”

“Sort of-”

Vegito’s words were trapped in his throat as a small object in his right pocket vibrated. It didn’t stop, so he pulled it out and saw on the screen that he was receiving an incoming call.

From…oh, great.

“Hold on. I should answer this…”

Amita observed in quiet puzzlement as he tapped the green answer button and held the smartphone up to his ear. He spoke at a lower volume, and couldn’t stop a frown from twisting his features.

“What do you want?”

“How dare YOU sound annoyed! You were supposed to be here an hour ago!” Bulma’s voice on the other end was its usual shrill that grated against his brain. He hoped Amita couldn’t hear her.

“For what?”

“Oh, so I guess you’re forgetting your own promises now? Are we that unimportant to you, Mr. Big-Shot Warrior?” He could easily picture the sneer she must’ve had on her face. As strong as the temptation to hang up the phone was, he knew it would only bite him in the ass later.

“Here, I’ll remind you. We have a lot of new heavy machinery that needs to get moved, and you said you’d help out this morning.”

Vegito squinted. He frankly did not remember making any kind of “promise” like that, and this could be a manipulation ploy from her just to get him to do it, but he could have truthfully forgotten. Either way, he ironically wasn’t in the mood to put up a fight. Bulma had the special power of utilizing little effort to make him feel indescribably fatigued in seconds.

“Fine. Whatever. I’m on my way now.”

“Good-”

He didn’t wait to see if she had anything else to say, as he immediately tapped the red button to end the call. During their conversation, Amita had resumed sipping her beverage and eating her roll.

“Did something happen?”

“No. Nothing…important. But I need to go.”

“Oh.” The sound was neutral and her expression didn’t change, but the unmistakable light of disappointment bled into her eyes. “Ok.”

His frowned deepened, yet he gathered his things and stood up.

“Sorry. I’ll talk to you again, soon.”

“Alright.” That made her perk up more, but he didn’t stick around any longer. However, he…honestly wanted to. As Vegito walked out of the café, guzzling the rest of his drink and shoving his last muffin into his coat pocket to eat sometime later, he had to resist the urge to turn and look back at her.

He liked talking to Amita. And, he without a doubt planned on following through with his word and contacting her in the near future.

#amito fic // ♡ you and me ♡

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