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andraxicated · 2 years

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the devil's witch

Pairings: toji x f! reader

Synopsis: An iron-wiled trip downstairs in the middle of the night leads to you seeing something horrifying that followed you for the rest of your life. Based on May Day Eve by Nick Joaquin.

a/n: I've read may day eve a long time ago and it's still one of my favorite literary works <3

be aware that some of the lines are taken from the short story!

It was the first day of May and witches were abroad in the night, she said—for it was a night of divination, and night of lovers, and those who cared might peer into a mirror and would there behold the face of whoever it was they were fated to marry—

"Oh, stop it you old woman!"

"Go scare those old men instead of us!"

"Enough with those old tales! Girls, calm down! Let us go to sleep! Madam, pls go and leave us for the night." Utahime says in an attempt to flatten the arising situation late in the night. But your stubborn self won't back down when hearing something that piques your interest.

"I won't sleep! Tell me old woman, what must I do?" You say standing up face to face with the servant as Utahime pressed her palm against her forehead. The other girls chant in support to let her tell you and the servant stares back at you with the same fiery eyes.

"Stop! Stop it! We are making too much noise! The old farts will come in here and break us apart if we were to be found!" Mai stresses by holding her index finger against her lips, pleading to be at least a little bit quiet.

"So?" You tip your head to the side. "What must I do?"

The old woman named Fumiyo who's been a long time servant of the Zenin Estate has been taking care of you girls since childhood. The little group of women that shared similarities by their family's occupation was always served by the woman you're facing right now.

And she always knew you have curiosity impulses that cannot be cured. There was simply no use in denying you your request. "You must take a candle. Go into a room that is dark and has a mirror in it and you must be alone in that room." She instructs and hands you a nearby candle resting on a table.

"Go up to the mirror, close your eyes and say: Mirror, mirror, show to me him whose woman I will be. If all goes right, just above your left shoulder will appear the face of the man you will marry."

Not just you but everyone was taken aback by the ridiculous yet sinister process. It stroke a little pang of fear in your heart but nonetheless, you don't believe in ghosts.

"And if it goes wrong?" Nobara who's clutching a pillow, asks for you.

Fumiyo startles you as she clutches your hand enclosing the candle. "Then the lord have mercy on you!" "Why!" "Because...you may see the devil!"

Silence. Then someone snorts and giggles. The room bursts into laughter together with you and the old woman seems dumbfounded by the unexpected reaction.

You give her a condescending smile and snatch your hand away from her grip. "I think you forgot that we're not children anymore." Strong, determined feet stride towards the door and your hands turn the doorknob. One last glance towards the girls and to the servant, you smile cheekily at her. "I don't believe easily"

The only light in the dark corridors of the estate was the dancing flame you were protecting. Normally, the hallways should have been lit but the truth was that the sisters' wing was neglected, left with a few servants. But all the more it was easy to sneak into their rooms since no one cared to surveil.

As you traverse the large hallways, you already had a specific location in your mind: the grand drawing room mirror on the main wing. It was a risky trip considering people would be questioning your presence if you were caught. And the chance of encountering their nasty relatives is high. Yet, you're a woman on a mission determined to satiate her curiosity. And besides, you have a little candle to defend yourself with.

The feel of the smooth carpeted staircase leaves you as you're met with the cold, marble floor. The scene of the empty drawing room sends feelings of gloom that your heart stung. It used to be filled with joyous laughter when you were kids but the fallout of relationships ended those moments.

You took a small breath and closed in on the area. Face to face with the mirror, you could admire your dimmed beauty along with the intricate frame. Gold foliage and flora, mysterious curves and carvings; it was too beautiful to be abandoned. Yet the struts to become closer to the reflection were met with fear and hesitancy.

You examine yourself, white nightgown dressing you as a ghost—but not quite with your face warm to the eyes. Your hair shiny, chest rising, and colored orbs of your eyes prove that the one peering into her reflection is a living, breathing being. You could only hope this is nothing wrong, that you could still see yourself standing in the next years.

But a small sigh and the faith of imitating the dead was all it took to be enchanted by the incantations falling from your lips. Until the last words where your arms visibly falter and the candle shakes, feet rooted to the ground, eyes afraid to open—afraid of what you could see. In the moment of urgency, you mused the idea of walking back to the staircase without your sight, albeit foolish.

But you heard the clack of heavy footing, a gruff snicker, and instantly opened your eyes.

"Mama! What did you see?" The little boy on your lap asks, but you're fixated on the mirror and the woman staring back at you. There were still traces of her youth even though she matured greatly. The girl in the mirror used to have plump skin, pretty lips, pristine eyes, and an impertinent and fiery facade. To the point where she was once akin to a sensitive feline.

But now, this was an old face slowly stripped of its beauty. Her skin was less elastic, lips thinned, eyes tired yet she looked serene and happy. A stark contrast of who she used to be, that you took note of.

"Mama!" The little boy shouted that you're forced to turn your attention to him. "Pay attention to me! You get angry when we're not listening but you're not listening too!" He pouted and was visibly upset. You never thought someday you'd get lectured by someone years younger than you. You finally understand that silly old woman's temperament. God bless her soul.

Your eyes soften and giggle at your son, brushing aside his hair that looked a lot like yours. "I'm sorry. I momentarily forgot what happened next." "Do you remember now? Mama! Please tell!" Your son pleaded by pulling on your dress; you look right into his eyes and see him. A mischievous smile creeps onto your lips as you sit the little boy properly in your lap. When was the last time your playful nature visited you?

"I saw the devil." You answered with bitter eyes and the child's anticipation fell.

"The devil? Mama?..." His small voice asked, trailing off. And you swear you could almost cry at how this was squeezing your heart. This boy was too cute for his own good. Perhaps every mother saw their child like this.

"Yes, my love. I opened my eyes and there it was, in the mirror, smiling at me over my left shoulder, was the face of the devil." You pretend to shudder. "Is he scary? Is it red?"

You snort and chortle at his innocence, pinching his chubby cheeks. "Yes very. But not red, it has the same color as us humans." "Were you frightened?"

"Very. That's why you shouldn't believe easily in what others say. Or you may see the horrors of the darkness yourself one day." Your son nods, taking your words seriously. But just like you back then, the questions would never stop until his curiosity is satiated. Oh, you fear for this child.

"What did the devil look like?"

"Hmm....he had straight black hair and a scar on the side of his mouth." "Left or right?' "Right"

"Like papa?" Your son asks with questioning brows and you nod with a smile. "Quite. But the devil's scar was one of sin, while your papa's scar is one of survival." He nodded, asking you to go on. "Well, he was extremely tall...and well built. Just like your papa. Suffice to say he was kind of attractive" You tell your son even though he can't understand some of your words.

"Did he speak to you mama?" "Yes. He spoke to me." You whisper softly, reminiscing the past and kissing your little boy's head. The sweet child attempts to hold your hand, his doe eyes shining against the sunlight and you cried.

You could never forget. That May night will never leave your mind.

"Don't need no candle to see such a pretty face" He praised, smiling at you in the mirror and stepping back to give a low mocking bow. From the gruff speech, decent clothing, and familiar features, he must be one of your friend's nasty relatives. The men of the Zenin family are utterly horrendous, meet one and you're best to be running away.

And so you do, dashing past him with a glare and he had burst into drunken laughter. Toji liked exactly what you displayed just right now; he never knew you'd grow up to be feisty.

"I remember you. You're (y/n)" He cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue. "I left when you were this small and came home to find an enchantress." Toji demonstrated how you used to be half his height. "And I saw you at the tavern the other night, offered a drink but you refused."

"Good thing I did. Now let me pass"

"If I let you, will you have a drink with me pretty girl?" he asked even though he won't take no for an answer. You can't reason out with this one, so you stood before him with tired and pleading eyes to let you go. And the mirror, the melting candle, the dancing flame, and your shadows on the wall bear witness to this one-sided banter.

Toji who came home to the estate after years while drunk, erased the thought of passing out on his cold bed and found himself sober, wanting to prolong your attention on him. A devilish glint passed in his eyes.

"Let me pass! I want to sleep!" The fatigue was now taking a toll on you and you found yourself wanting to go back to the sister's room. In your angry cries, he grasped you by the wrist and smirked.

"No. Not until we're drunk"

"Drink with the devil!"

"My my. My pretty girl has a foul mouth."

"Stop calling me that! I am not your pretty girl!" "Whose then? Someone I know? Someone I beat up? 'Coz I heard you treat all Zenin men the same." You attempt to get his grip off you as it was hurting and he noticed this. Toji let you go but made sure you can't run off to the staircase.

"And why not? I have a very valid reason to express my displeasure to all of you." You howl in anger. "Oh, how I detest you, you obnoxious old men! You treat women like we're good for nothing and just for breeding stocks! And then you dally off with young women I—it's absolutely revolting!"

Toji is amused at your sudden outburst, his grin growing wider at your heaving chest and your forehead creased. Looks like you have a lot of bottled-up emotions that ended up slapping him in the face. But there's something he's curious about...

"How did you know?" He asks and you scoff at him for the nth time that night. "Of course, I hear what people say. I wish to unhear those inappropriate details about despicable men like you."

He chuckles. "But clearly, you think of yourself highly. You came to admire yourself in this fancy mirror in the middle of the night. Never took you for a vain woman." Him assuming your personality made you beyond livid as you clenched fists. Toji glanced at your cute little curled-up fists and thought how hard would it hit.

"I was not admiring myself." "You were admiring the moon perhaps? Or me? I know you ladies—"

Tears prick your eyes as you bit your mouth. Those tears are not from sadness but from the mere frustration you're having right now. "You are insufferable! It is exhausting to talk to you! If you don't shut your mouth I will scream—mmph!"

Amid the struggle, you drop the candle from your hand as you keep on struggling in his hold. You couldn't even speak or breathe as Toji has your mouth covered by his large palm. The fire has gone out the moment it dropped and now, both of you are shrouded in darkness.

Two idiots scuffling in the dark as one attempts to keep the other shut as the other attempts to live. If you hadn't bit his skin, it probably would've turned a murder in the dark.

"Fuck!" Toji quickly whipped his hand away as he hisses from the stinging pain of the bite. He couldn't see a thing but he could feel a scar forming, thankfully not enough to draw blood. He lets out a breath of relief and turns angrily at wherever you are. "What the fuck are you? An animal?"

But you couldn't answer. Warm tears continued to flow onto your cheeks as you crouch on the floor, shaken by how death almost knocked at your door. You hug your knees and eye the faint outline of the man's legs in the dark. Gathering all of your strength, you punch his hard bones as an act of swift revenge for what he did to you.

"Agh!" Toji groans in pain quite loudly, gripping his ankles as he falls to the ground next to you. "You almost killed me you asshole!" You sob and Toji freezes, taking a moment to register what you said.

"It was so dark, I couldn't see, I couldn't breathe because of your disgustingly sweaty palms! And it's so rough! I think you're the animal here! You must've been used to crawling on all fours and eating dirt you rake!" You say with stuttering breaths and hiccups, wiping the upsetting tears with your nightgown.

You're never good at anything except for your unfiltered mouth and harsh insults. You may not have hurt him that much physically but you do hope it struck a nerve. Standing up from your position, you attempt to go back to the room quietly yet you felt a chilling tug on your gown.

Toji stood up from his feet and guided his own way to you through your gown "I'm sorry. Please don't cry. I-I just didn't want for someone to find us here-" "Why? Because we'd have to be wed? Don't be ridiculous. I'll never marry the likes of you."

You were about to walk away but this unnecessarily pertinacious man kept on clinging to you and your hand. "Let me go" Your voice had turned cold and Toji was conscience-stricken. He sometimes forgets the brute strength he has and ends up hurting others. Especially you in your small and delicate frame.

You felt your hand rising then the press of a soft, moist, flesh along with a rough patch. Your whole body freezes but your heart pounds rapidly from the familiar sensation. A hand kiss. Your mouth opens to protest but you could only give a small scoff. The audacity of this man to pull another trick on you.

"I can't. Say you forgive me first. (y/n). Say you forgive me, please."

But you are full of him and instead dragged his hand to you and made a powerful twist of his arm. Toji once again cried in pain, having the third injury of the night from you, a little lady who's now up and gone. He heard the hurried steps from the carpeted stairs, the wind brushing against your dress, and the crack of his arm as he moves the limb after a good fight.

Nefarious thoughts raced through his head: he could go and tell the servants of a certain savage girl who's to be banned in the estate forever — or he would go to their room and drag you out for a spar, seeing as you've given him a few pains. But at the same time, he was thinking of you going home tomorrow and ambushing your carriage to give you a little scare.

Oh, Toij would have his revenge, he would make you pay. "That little brat." He snarled and thought that he would give you a taste of your own medicine. But god...what pretty eyes you had. It turned a glowing color when you were angry. He remembered your bare shoulders: gold in the candlelight and smooth to the sight. He saw the mobile insolence of your neck, oh how he would love to sink his teeth into them just as you did to his palm.

And your taunt breasts steady in the fluid no fire or grace? You were truly an exquisite treat!

Toji shook his head and headed to his room, traversing the empty hallways, and suddenly realized that he had fallen madly in love with you. He ached intensely to see you again—at once—to touch your dainty hands and your soft hair; to hear your harsh voice. He burst open his windows and the beauty of the night struck him back like a blow.

It was May, it was summer, and he was young—young and crazily in love. Such happiness swelled within him that he could feel his chest was itchy. But he won't forgive you. He would make you pay, and have his revenge; Toji thought with a grin and glanced at his scarred palm. But what a night it had been, probably one of the most exciting nights that happened in his life.

"I will never forget this night. Mark my words you brat." He swore to the moon, amidst the breeze in his dark room; a sparkle in his eyes, his tousled hair, and his clenched fist. Toji finally felt something.

But, alas, the heart forgets; the heart is distracted; and May time passes; summer ends; the storms break over the rot—ripe orchards and the heart grows old; while the hours, the days, the months, and the years pile up and pile up, till the mind becomes too crowded. Too confused: dust gathers it; cobwebs multiply; the walls darken and fall into ruin and decay; the memory perishes...

And there came when Toji walked home through a May Day midnight without remembering, without even caring to remember; being merely concerned about going home across the street. His eyes had grown quite dim and his legs uncertain—for he grew old; he was over sixty; he was a very stooped and shriveled old man with white hair and moustaches, much like all the men in his family; much to his dismay.

He came from a secret meeting of businessmen; the walls of his mind echoing the speeches and his heart still beating as he made his way to the front door and inside the slumbering darkness of his house; wholly unconscious of the May night, till on his way down the hall, chancing to glance in the drawing room. He shuddered, he stopped, his blood ran cold—for he had seen a face in the mirror there—a ghostly candlelit face with tired eyes and dried lips. A face that was supposed to be long gone yet a different person.

He felt he had seen it before though it was a full minute before the last memory flowed, came tiding back, overflooding the actual moment and so swiftly washing away the piled hours that had gone by and transformed him into a young man again.

He just came from a glamorous country; he had been drinking all night; saw a beautiful face; offered her a drink; ran after her; passed out on the streets; drank every night; came home through the doorway; he saw a face in the dark; he cried out...and the pair standing before the mirror jumped in fright and almost dropped their candle, but looking around and seeing the old man, they sighed in relief and came running.

"Grandpa! You scared me!"

Toji turned pale. "So it was you little brats. And what are you doing here at this hour?" He questioned the twins, exchanging looks at the girl and the boy.

"Nothing, grandpa. I was only...uh..." "I told you this was ridiculous! You got us in trouble!" The young diva whined to her brother who could only scratch the back of his neck.

"Yes little miss, spit it out." The girl rolled her eyes and sighed, preparing herself for the scolding.

"It was just foolishness, Grandpa. They told my brother he would see his wife." His granddaughter stated and Toji wanted to smack his old arms into whoever planted that silly idea in that little head of his.

"Wife? You're too young to have a wife! What wife?" "Mine. The boys at school said I would see her if I looked in a mirror tonight and said:

Mirror, mirror Show to me Her whose lover I will be.

Toji threw a fit of laughter. He took the twins playfully by the ear, ignoring their whines as he sits them down on a couch, right by his sides.

"Put your candle on the table and let us talk this over. So you want a wife already? You want to see her in advance? But do you know that these are wicked games that prey on unknowing children who play them and see dangerous horrors?"

The boy shrugs. "Well, I was warned that I might see a witch instead."

"Exactly! A witch so terrifying you may die of fright. And she will bewitch you, bite you, steal your heart, and cook you for dinner!"

"Oh come now, Grandpa. We don't believe easily, no one believes in witches anymore." The girl counters his storytelling and Toji embarrassingly clears his throat, perhaps these kinds of scares don't work on the youth anymore.

"Hah, child. What if I tell you that I have seen a witch?" "You?! Where?"

"In the abandoned Zenin manor. But right in that mirror" said the old man, and his playful voice turned rough. The children glanced at the mirror quizzically as if looking for the witch that their grandpa just mentioned.

"When grandpa?"

"Not so long ago. When I was a lot older than you. I was such a drunkard and though I was feeling sick that night and merely wanted to lie down and pass away. I could not rest in peace of course without seeing the last expression on my face. But when I poked my head in the mirror, I saw..."

"The witch?" "Exactly!" "What did she do to you, grandpa?"

Toji tries to remember. "She bewitched me and tortured me. She clawed her fingers into my chest and broke my bones." The children held their breaths before gasping in distress. "Oh my! Such a horrible person! Why haven't you told us?"

His brows furrowed and quickly shook his head. "Horrible? god no, she was very beautiful! She was the loveliest sight I'd ever seen. Her eyes were somewhat like yours but her soft locks were a different shade. And her golden shoulders were bare! She was enchanting...but I should've known the dark and fatal creature she was."

A silence. Then: "What a horrid mirror this is, grandpa. We should throw it out." whispered the boy and Toji stood up in anger. He was suddenly ticked off and fuming, the thought of abandoning such a precious item was not to be done.

"What makes you say that!" The children were shocked by his sudden outburst but the girl quickly composed herself and supported her brother. "Well, you saw a witch in it. And papa told me that grandma once told him that she saw a devil in this mirror. Was it of the scare that grandma died?"

Toji stared into the mirror and his wrinkled face. For a moment he had forgotten that his wife was dead, that you were no longer in this world. Poor (y/n), you are at peace at last, your tired body at rest and no one will be able to disturb you.

Your youthful face and body shrunk down to a heap of white hair and bones in the end: a pitiful, crying old lady. Whipping out your cruel tongue, fiery eyes, blooming face—now gone and nothing. nowhere. Save a name on a stone, on the graveyard; nothing was left of the girl he cherished who burst so brightly in a mirror one wild May Day midnight, long, long ago.

Remembering how a few of your tears shone in the moonlight, how you twisted his arm and fled, and how he swore to the moon and surprised himself in the face of love.

Such grief overcame Toji and he felt ashamed before the twins; standing up and fumbling his way to the window, sweeping the curtains, and looked out—looked out on the peaceful neighborhood where the streetlights guided the path. A carriage stomped on the cobblestones while the dark birds flew and spread their wings—towards the lone, sinister estate in the west. The moon prowled above them, the night breeze hitting his face, sending the scent of summer to his nostrils and painting his sight with the unbearable Maytime memories of a distant love to the old man shaking with sobs by the window.

Toji figured it was a long time since he had cried, it was a long time since you had passed. His eyes try to familiarize the feeling but his heart knows the painful throbs all too well. His bitter sobs went heard as his tongue tasted the salty tears. His old back was beginning to strain from crying so hard but the dam won't seem to stop.

One hand pressed to his mouth, an old man drowning in his sorrows, the watchmen ringing the midnight bell, the clock strumming twelve.

Twelve. Midnight. Twelve.

"This is the twelfth time you told me that." "I just thought you would forget. You know that mirror is important to us." You pout and Toji sighs, bringing down the furniture to his feet and pulling you in his arms. Neither of you wanted anything to do with the Zenin estate, except for the marvelous mirror that you coveted.

"Do you need the elder's permission for that? Say it's our wedding gift. Or if they refuse, steal it." You instruct him with a straight face and Toji could only shake his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pinching your butt.

"I turned over a new page for you and you make me do bad things" He walks away to pick up the furniture outside and you rush after him, chasing after your dearest husband in happy steps, the glow of the orange sun shining brightly onto the new home. Blessing the home and blessing the owners.

And so, Toji buries your only regret in his heart, the regret of not living longer to see the blossoming family. Was it because you're a good person that you had gone ahead? And was it because his sins cannot be washed off that he had lived longer in this world, waiting for death to pick him up, yet it plays with him and refuses his desire.

He had lived longer to tell. To tell of what became of the witch in the mirror. They asked him what happened to the horrible creatures living inside the mirror. He said that the witch stole his heart but it came with a price, a price that benefitted him so much.

"She stole the devil's heart. And thus, she belonged to him and became the devil's witch"

#toji x reader #toji fluff #toji hcs #toji x reader fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen

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ineffible-chaos · 1 year

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The Christmas Kids

Summery:

It's been four years since Craig Tucker stepped into South Park. After a nasty, one-sided breakup at sixteen with his long-term boyfriend, Tweek Tweak, Craig has been on a downward spiral with seemingly no end. With a new assignment from his therapist, Stripe #10 and enough medication to kill a small village, Craig is returning to the source of all his problems. Things have changed in South Park and some people don't know how to leave well enough alone. With new friends, old friends, and something in between, Craig just wants to disappear out of the lives of everyone

Parings: Craig/Tweek, Kyle/Stan, Kenny/Butters/Marj

“I dream of you in every waking and sleeping moment and its the sweetest and cruelest form of torture.”

Day one.

My name is Craig Tucker.

I’m twenty-two years old.

My therapist is making me do this assignment where I have to make an entry for a whole year. Three hundred and sixty-five entries. He told me that it was okay to skip a day or two if I forgot or didn't have the energy to write anything down. I don't mind this if i'm being honest, it's better than wallowing in my own self pity like I have been the last few years.

I think it would be rude to not introduce myself to you, even if you are just a leather bound book filled with empty space.

So.

My name is Craig Tucker and I'm depressed.

I was first diagnosed when I was sixteen when my boyfriend of six years broke up with me. Then a lot of stuff happened and I got the free upgrade of having MDD- major depressive disorder, a few years later. I’m gay, I’ve known since I was fourteen. You’re probably wondering, “Craig, how did you have a boyfriend for six years if you didn’t know you were gay until years after you started dating him?”

That, my friend, is the question, isn't it? I grew up in South Park, this fucked up little town in Colorado. The adults were insane, there was one fat kid who was a menace to society (his friends were too, I still hate them for Puru) and then there was Tweek.

Tweek Tweak was this neurotic little blond kid whose parents ran the only coffee shop in all of South Park.

We even fought once because of the fat kid I mentioned earlier. We’d played superheroes together (I was Super Craig and I beat the shit out of other kids, I loved it) and before we “dated”, we were doing some medieval shit with this new kid who farted. Like, a lot. It was a weird time.

Then the Asian girls started making yaoi fanart of us and the whole town had decided that we were gay, dating and that was that. We “broke up” shortly after and Tweek had decided to make me sound like a cheating bastard with some dude named Michael (srsly what the fuck, im still mad about that).

But I guess we just sort of stayed together after that. We fake dated for the town but we actually became really good friends and eventually the line between friends and being something more just… blurred. I was the only one who could calm him down and he was the only one I could stand touching me.

That's sort of my thing. My family never believed in coddling their kids and it was rare to be touched in a way that wasn't violent (I got into fights a lot) or those posed two second family pictures. I even remember flinching away from his touch in the beginning because it was so foreign.

I haven't let anyone else touch me since.

The thought makes my skin crawl, like having any one else’s hands on me but his made me want to throw up.

Sorry, I'm rambling aren't i? It's been a while since i've talked to anyone that wasn't the therapist.

I'm gonna be honest, book. I’m not okay.

I’ve been in love with my ex for nearly ten years and I don't know how to get over him. No one else clicks and a part of me is so, so tired of getting drunk and high to feel something other than misery and self pity that I just want everything to end. That sounds bad doesn't it? Who feels that way over some guy?

Everything feels heightened now because I'm going home to South Park for the first time in four years and I'm scared out of my mind. I was a complete mess that last year and a half of high school after Tweek broke up with me and I spent most of that time high, drunk or both on the first set of meds that made me feel numb enough that I could barely think and when i could, i was so fucking miserable i wanted to die.

If I'm being honest, I don't even know how I graduated. Despite what everyone thought about Kyle Broflovsky and Wendy Testaburger being the smartest in our grade, I had been on track to be valedictorian, which I hid from everyone as best I could. Sure, I had sucked at school when I was younger but the teachers had been able to tweak (ha, jokes) how I was taught and boom, smart as hell.

Honestly, I think my teachers felt bad for me and just passed the depressed gay kid who was dumped by his long term boyfriend for a fucking girl.

Ugh.

Book, this entry is making me want to jump so I’m gonna end it here. So see you for entry two, maybe I won’t be so miserable the next time we talk.

-Craig.

He flipped the book closed and flexed his fingers, which had cramped from the amount of writing he'd done. A part of him had almost felt bad for trauma dumping through the pages and immediately wanted to punch himself in the face because how fucking stupid is that? It's a book.

He hadn’t been lying as he wrote and he’d even felt like the slightest bit of weight had eased off of his shoulders for a moment. He looked around his barren dorm room and wished he could make time stop moving; graduation had come and gone and now he was heading back home to South Park for the first time in years. Apartments were too expensive in the city and he was completely wiped out from paying tuition.

So home it was. Tricia was about to be in her senior year of high school and he’d felt guilty for missing so many events the last few years. His mom was excited he was coming home and he had no doubt that every single miserable person in town knew the Gay Kid was coming back home.

Being out of the cold shadow of the mountains had done him good, his voice had finally let go of the lispy rasp he’d had for so long and he'd let his hair grow out so it stuck out from under his hat.

He looked towards the desk in his room and stood from his perch on the bed. Stripe #10 had been changed to his carrying case and he’d protested it, his angry weeks expressing just how he felt being in his tiny enclosure.

“Dude, chill. You’ll be in there for only a little longer and I’ll give you treats later.”

Stripe let out a huff in response.

“Don’t sass me young man, it's hard being a single mother dealing with your tantrums.”

Damn kids.

He shrugged his bag on and lifted the cage, leaving behind the dorm he’d occupied for so long. He left the key by the RA office and put Stripe in the front seat of his car, buckling him in and throwing the bag into the back seat.

“Don’t expect to see your deadbeat dad anytime soon bud, just because we’re going home doesn’t mean you get to see him.” He said to Stripe, who didn’t respond.

Teenagers are so ungrateful nowadays, he thought to himself and started the long journey to South Park.

this is also posted on A03

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noah-moth-cursed-chaos · 2 years

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“No.” Kyou stared at the old man in front of her. He needed to dye his roots, the red and gray were starting to show through the blonde. She didn’t know what made him think she was giving up the type of information he was asking for, but he was sure stupid for it. She wondered if she should say he knew who he was. Basil Dill. Corrupt sh^tbag of a scientist, who was trying to track down past experiments. Did she know where some of those experiments were? Absolutely. Shaun bought her cool pillows he found sometimes and Wes paid her a lot for info on bank security. No way she was betraying either of them for this guy though.

“No?” He seemed like he wasn’t used to hearing that. Old, evil, and entitled. A triple whammy. Kyou would rather be home doing her homework for human geography.

“You heard me. You’re not getting shit I know, and I seriously doubt anyone else in the city is going to answer those questions either.” She stated, “Cut your losses and fuck off back to your hole before you ask the wrong person and get stabbed, old fart.”

“Do you know who I am?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes, “Basil Dill. 61. Creator of the ‘sentinels’ and the first person to successfully do cloning of humans. Used to work for Blackwell. Yes I know who you are. You don’t scare me. I’ve turned down worst customers than you. Do you know who I am? The connections I have in this city? If you touch me you’re screwed.” That wasn’t necessarily the truth. It was totally plausible that Basil could kick her ass and leave her in this alley, or kill her, or kidnap her, or anything else and nobody would find out and nothing would happen. Maybe nobody would care at all. But Basil didn’t need to know that. Being a kid doing this type of stuff was dangerous enough, it’s best to not let people know that technically nobody really has your back.

“Screwed, huh?” Basil approached her, surprisingly calm. It suddenly registered that she was closer to the wall. Rookie mistake.

“Absolutely.” She tried to look calm, not bothering to back away, she’d have a better chance of waiting until he was a certain distance away and trying to run past him.

“I suppose we’ll just have t-“ Now. She bolted, ducking under his arm. She didn’t even round the corner before she felt something hit her in the head and she fell over, her vision going black.

She came to handcuffed to a metal chair, in what looked to be an interrogation room. Their head still hurt, but less than they expected it to. Her chair sat at a table, another chair across from her. The rest of the room was… mind numbingly plain.

She didn’t know how long she was sitting there before she heard a door behind her open. “Well! Look who’s finally up!” Basil’s voice.

“I’ve been up for ages, you’re just slow as balls.” They grumbled, “Do you make bad attempts to give everyone who ticks you off a concussion or am I special?”

“… do you lack a survival instinct? More people shut up once they realize they’re fully at someone else’s mercy.” The scientist walked in front of her, sitting in a the empty chair.

“At this point in my life I am not convince I can die, and I welcome any overzealous asshat to try.”

“… well. That’s something to get into later.” He sighed, “Ready to talk yet?”

“Fuck you.”

“… are you trying to make me hurt you?”

“Go ahead.” Kyou sneered, “You’ll regret it when someone comes for me.”

“Really? Someone will come for you? Who? The heartless criminals that took vague pity on you, or maybe that poor retiree you keep harassing who doesn’t even want you around?” Basil scoffed, “Are the ghosts going to come after me? Any of the foster parents who didn’t want you? The teachers who think you’re an annoyance? Nobody in this city is going to miss you. I can keep you here as long as you want. Nobody will miss you. I give it a month before you’re forgotten entirely. You’re nothing but an unwanted, unloved, orphan runaway that doesn’t know when to quit. And I’ll be very happy to remind you of that.”

Kyou stared at him, unsure how to react, how much about her did he know? Then her brain narrowed on one thing, ‘or maybe that poor retiree you keep harassing who doesn’t even want you around?’ He had to be talking about Zeph. She wouldn’t necessarily call him a retiree but. It had to be him. That was ridiculous. Zeph wanted her around. Right? He was probably worried sick right now. He was probably looking for her. When he found her they could go home and this whole thing could be over.

But… did he really care or was it obligation? It wasn’t like he’d wanted anything to do with her at first. Why did she assume that changed? It made sense for an adult to worry about her. She was a homeless teenager basically trying to get in trouble. Of course it made sense for him to try and make sure she at least stayed alive. It didn’t mean he cared for her. It just meant he didn’t want her dead.

What if one day he decided she was too much trouble? What if he told her to get lost?

Sure, she knew she could just go back to the way things had been but…

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed people a lot more than she thought. And not just a few nicer ghosts or people who were kind to her in brief meetings. People who she was close to. People who cared for her that she cared for in return.

And she needed someone she could call family. Zeph was probably the closest thing to a father she’d had in her life.

She knew that from a logical standpoint, if he gave up on her she could just continue living the way she had.

But from an annoying emotional standpoint she sometimes wished would just go bury itself, she didn’t think she’d ever recover losing the only family she had. Especially not because of herself.

They must have been thinking for longer than they realized because Basil sighed and got up, “Fine then, brat. I have about a billion and one experiments I’d love to do. I’m sure after being the subject for a few of them you’ll crack.” With that he got up and left the room, returning with two needles, a tripod, and a camera. He put the needles on the table before he set up the tripod and camera.

He returned to the table, where Kyou was trying to tug at her restraints, screaming her head off, definitely not wanting to find out what was in those.

Of course Kyou didn’t know how to get out of handcuffs, and a grown man Basil’s size was decently stronger than a scrawny teen. So the needles’ contents were administered anyway, and Basil began talking to his camera before leaving the room.

Kyou continued yelling, but noticed it getting harder, and an odd tingling spreading throughout her body, starting at the injection site. As it got harder and harder to move at all, the sensation got stronger and stronger until it was painful. She lost the ability to move before the pain reached its peak. It was hell. She was in hell. She had to be. Every fiber of her being was lit up in red hot excruciating pain, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. Her tongue and her limbs felt like lead. Her heart even felt like it was beating slower, making her light headed, her brain begging her body to just give up and let her faint, but her body refusing to forcing her to endure the very air around her turning into another thing that worsened the pain.

She had no clue how long it was before the affects subsided, and she finally collapsed, exhausted. She woke up in a cold cell, body uncomfortably tossed onto a concrete floor. She looked up and saw… a 6’ demolition dummy robot in a hoodie? She scrambled against the wall, “Back off-whatever you are!! I-I kick really hard!”

“… that would be a bad idea. I’m made of metal.” The robot seemed a bit confused by her reaction, “I uhm.” They looked around quickly, before pulling… a lunchable and a caprisun out of their hoodie? “Here.” They bent down to put them on the floor right inside the bars, glancing around once again. They were… scared? Kyou suddenly felt bad for her initial reaction. She walked over, taking the items.

“… thank you.”

“I-if anyone finds that, I didn’t give them to you okay? Basil won’t hurt you for having them but…” They trailed off, “… I don’t think he’d feed you and. You’re just a kid I… you need to eat.”

“… do you have a name?” She asked, “I’m Kyou.”

“Sin-Sinoc-Sinocall-no that’s not how you…” He sighed, “I can’t pronounce it-but- You can call me Demo!”

Kyou giggled, “It’s nice to meet you Demo.”

“I gotta go now, but I’ll be back!” The robot got up, and ran off. Kyou cringed when she heard them turn the corner and fall.

Sadly, despite Demo’s brief and nervous visits, a lot of… well Kyou had no way to tell how long she was in there… a lot of her time was spent in Basil’s tests. At the same time she seemed to be coming down with something. She could barely keep food down, and after the food was gone it was stomach acid. Her throat was raw and scratchy and eventually blood started coming up with the bile.

As if the drugging and the illness wasn’t enough, Basil seemed to be pretty good at waging psychological warfare against his captives too. And Kyou was starting to believe him.

If anyone out there was looking… they would’ve found her. But nobody had. Everyone probably forgot she existed. Zeph was probably relieved to have her out of his hair. She didn’t think she’d ever cried so much in her life. She wanted to die. If she was dead hopefully she’d just depart. If she was departed maybe everything wouldn’t be pain.

It was about two weeks before Demo had found where Basil hid that poor kid’s belongings. Or some of them anyway. A phone and a wallet. He had no clue if that was all she’d had on her. During those two weeks the way she deteriorated scared the ever living tar out of the robot. She was losing weight alarmingly quickly from how hard her body was fighting just to keep her alive with everything Basil was doing. The fact that she couldn’t seem to keep anything down didn’t help. She had dark circles under her eyes and constantly looked like she could collapse. She barely spoke and when she did it was obvious that it hurt like hell. The day before he’d found the items she’d slept the whole day through. At one point Demo thought the poor kid might actually be dead.

Thankfully Mockingbird was able to hack the phone pretty easily, and turn off the passcode lock so Demo could turn it on whenever.

Demo had already knew where Basil kept the cell keys since before Kyou was even there. So getting into the cell when she was sleeping was easy. Sneaking out of the labs unseen wasn’t as easy, but he managed.

Then it was just to… somewhere. He chose a park. It was fairly public. The sun would be up soon and then people would be here.

He opened the phone and looked at the texts. The most recent was ‘Best Kinda Dad Ever(Zeph)’. He sent the phones location to that contact, before placing it by Kyou along with her wallet. “… please be safe.” He whispered, before rushing off.

Was what he’d done risky? Yes.

But he refused to watch another kid die. And he didn’t think they would’ve lasted much longer.

@cloudedgalactica come get your angst juice dude

#lego city haunts #writing #local girl is suffering my guy

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batslime · 7 months

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Hard at Work

Copia x reader, nsfw

Based on this audio

Drawing to come, rn I’m just making this post bc it’s easiest to share for peer review this way lol (liking/ reblogging etc is still fine, I don’t know yet if I’ll repost or just edit this)

Copia had been seated at his desk now for almost three hours and still hadn’t actually gotten anything done. He was simply too distracted to stay on task today. Luckily Nihil had taken Sister Imperator skydiving for her birthday, so he did have the office to himself, but found himself unable to concentrate enough for that to matter.

He went back and forth between the documents he was working on to searching eBay for used rat clothes to dusting the blinds to filing his nails to fiddle farting on his phone. After seeing the same ad for the 6th time on The TikToks he switched over to Instagram. He didn’t post very often himself but did enjoy the videos where people crushed things under hydraulic presses as well as the cute rat ones. Separate videos.

This time something different caught his eye. He typically ignored the suggested friends section that showed him all his contacts’ accounts. Sister. Saltarian. Swiss. He had already blocked Dew. But for the first time he was seeing your name and profile picture intrude on his space.

Since you had arrived at the ministry the two of you had shared a few… fiddle farts. There weren’t many people living in the Abbey so it was always excitable when somebody new showed up, and you had especially excited him. He was nervous that you wouldn’t be interested at first but you couldn’t help but find his pathetic and unsettling demeanor endearing. So you fucked him.

Copia was giddy. “Eheheheh…” he couldn’t keep it in as he went to view your page. He felt like a 13 year old who just found his big brother’s porn mag stash. He took his time looking at each of your posts, gawking at you. He wondered if you were busy right now…

His breath caught in his throat. He got a text just as he scrolled to a photo of you in a swimsuit, saltwater from the ocean behind you glistening on your skin in the sunlight, sea bass tightly clenched between your big strong teeth. He felt like a 13 year old who just got caught in his big brother’s porn mag stash.

It was you.

“Hey C… remember that immersion blender I lent you? Need it back. Time sensitive.”

That could wait. He was working.

Copia turned your attention back to the picture. Feasting his eyes on all the skin. And scales. He realized now he had gotten more than a little hard. Darn. More work.

He moved one hand down to his groin and pet himself softly, gazing at that voluptuous frontbutt of yours, the way the swimsuit lifted and squeezed them just right… your legs were so nice. Peppered with sand. It made him imagine being there with you. Pressing you down into the sand. Grinding against you. Also biting the bass.

Copia attempted to unbutton a section of his cassock to fit his hand underneath. Doing this with just one hand, he fumbled a bit and almost dropped his phone in the other. He caught it, but accidentally double-tapped the photo.

“Fuck!” His finger slipped again and he accidentally typed out “wish I had been there to rub “sunscreen” on those lumps” in the comment section and hit send. “Oh, ah, oh shit!” He accidentally unblocked Dew and sent him the post. “Crappola!”

Nothing he could do about that last part. But he DID unlike the post then delete the comment. Post-haste. He hoped you left your phone on and in the other room and went to poop so you missed the notification otherwise that could have been REALLY bad.

He heard a loud muffled “WHAT” coming from somewhere on one of the floors overhead. He decided to ignore it. That could have been anybody.

Sweating anyway, he smashed some keys on his typewriter to make it seem to any passersby that he was busy. Dick still half half and visible through the opening in his cassock, as red as his face felt.

Copia had started to calm down a bit after preemptively drafting a full two-page resignation letter, just in case. It had been a little bit and nobody had yelled at him. Maybe you really were shitting when he sent that.

You opened the door to his office.

Fuck. Just play it cool. Maybe you just wanted to help with the Ministry’s monthly financial reports.

“H-hello”, he croaked out, stupid, anxious smile smearing across his face. “How do you do?” You looked down and saw his penis poking halfway out through his clothes. Okay.

You approach him. He nervously grips the sides of his chair.

Once behind the desk next to him, you spin the chair to face yourself, leaning against him and throwing one leg over his lap so that it wove through the opening under the chair’s arm. You grab his cock and grind against the base and his balls, still stuffed under his clothes, as your fingers massage the tip. “Uh-“ he groans in surprise, immediately rocking his hips and gripping your butt through your tunic in response. You can feel his dick come to attention quickly. Good. You work your leg free, then lower yourself down to your knees, using Copia’s as support, then rubbing his thighs as you lean in towards his lap.

“Ah.” So you hadn’t been pooping.

Maybe you had been doing something else, actually, because you didn’t seem keen to waste any time. You grip and rub his cock again, maneuvering it so you can slobber along the length just long enough to ensure it was slick enough, then dove your open mouth down its entirety.

Copia continued to grunt strangely as you gagged yourself on him repeatedly, gripping your veil before pushing it back and gripping your hair. The feeling of him wrapping his fingers in your hair and puppeteering your head down into his pubic hair as he thrusted into your throat was accompanied by a drip down your leg. In day to day life he was the farthest thing from dominant. Usually people walked all over him. It was so hot when he let this side shine through. You loved the way he touched you. Used you.

You swivel your head on your neck as you continue bobbing up and down, earning an extra low groan. Copia kicks off his left shoe and his leg finds its way between yours. You feel the angle where his foot and ankle met rub against your pussy and you rock yourself against it, moaning on the mouthful of dick you’re busy with. The sound of your slurping mixed with his quickened breathing was working you up more than you realized.

Copia whined a bit as his hips made a few involuntary jerks towards you. “Ah, shit”, he didn’t want to cum yet. “Alright, that’s enough” he pushed himself up, you unlatching from his cock so he could rip a few more buttons out of the opposite side of his cassock and free the rest of his junk. He reached down to you- your grab his hand, but his own continues down to your upper arm and hoists you. You shiver a little and the unstated demand behind it.

He rubs his gloved hands around and under his balls a bit as he presses one side of you against the desk, gripping and lifting the leg closer to him up. He hardly takes time to position himself before piercing you, hilting himself completely, and your spine lights up with tingling as your jaw drops silently. The two of you are completely flush against eachother. His pelvis angled just slightly up into yours, tiptoes giving him the perfect entry, as he hugs your skywards leg against himself. His other hand grips the edge of the desk so hard you wonder if it’s a sturdy enough material to hold the onslaught it’s about to fall victim to.

Copia doesn’t hold back, slamming all his weight into you. He knows you can take it- you won’t take anything less. It’s just how you like it. You let out a long, breathy groan while he thrusts wildly into you, rhythm almost undetectable. His hands constantly reposition, trying to grip all of you at once. The hand gripping the desk goes back and forth between your hip, breast, shoulder, and neck several times before he remembers how to really push you over the edge. His palm lays flat into the crease between your thigh and pubis, thumb, gloved in warm, now wet leather, pressing hard on the area just above your clit. He works his way down not so slowly and works the glans, his own proximity to the end evident in his pace.

“Shit… oh, ah, shit…” he mutters against you. His nose and forehead are nuzzled into the side of your face at this point, mustache tickling your ear. His heavy breathing persists as he continues pressing his whole body against you, at this point his hips not thrusting into and away from you but rolling and shifting. He can’t stand to be away from you for long enough. He starts to lose his balance and you’re awkwardly pressed into the surface and the desk as he practically lays on you, still humping away. The pressure mixed with his ridiculously fat cock filling you and the speed he stroked you with was almost too much. You were letting out overwhelmed cries without even realizing it. You were too focused on undulating against him at just the right time. You were surprised at the desk’s tenacity, though the floor was creaking like it would give in at any second.

“Who’s your daddy?” he has you entirely pinned. He’s practically sitting on you. You try desperately to scream his name but find yourself hopelessly breathless. Your tongue was swollen and practically hanging out of your mouth as you gazed into his face, pressed against your own “I’m your daddy!” He was nice enough to answer for you. All his fingers ran back and forth across your clit now. If you were able to, you might have laughed when the xylophone sounds popped into your mind. You just threw your head back instead. He kissed and bit your neck.

Your body finally gives in and you squeal as you cum hard. Copia doesn’t let up with his hand, flinging droplets of your fluid. He stopped thrusting and clenched himself against you as hard as he could as he unloaded his balls into your sopping wet, pulsing pussy. He grunted with a mouthful of your throat. His cock kicked inside you and you shuddered at the sensation, already overloaded.

Copia took a second to catch his breath, riding out the last of both of your orgasms, before climbing off you.

He stood there looking at you, hands folded in front of him, limp dick hanging out, eyes wide with post-nut clarity. Looking at the mess he’d made in such little time.

“Eeeeeh. Uh. Ah.” The two of you stared at eachother. The fuck was always good when you hooked but it tended to be a bit awkward afterwards, neither of you ever knew where to go from them. “Alright, that’s enough. Thank you.”

You were about to say something about him wrapping up work for the day and grabbing some dinner with you when his phone buzzed on the desk beside you. You glance over.

It was Dew.

“Why’d you send me that”

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cainluvr69 · 1 year

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A Dream Of Helio Upon The Glinting Blade Chapter 10

Previous Chapter

Murr: Those high 'n mighty old farts would never let an event as important to their country as the swordsmanship exam get canceled, or else they'd lose face! And the person who gathered up and led the knights and solved the incident was none other than the very hero those old farts exiled, Cain. Can't leave that in the official reports!

Mitile: Is that what the event organizers said?

Faust: Close enough, at least. They were throwing themselves at our feet to try and make sure we didn't vent our anger at them.

Akira: No official records were made of your first match, so you're being allowed to have a rematch, too. And your opponent said it would be fine as long as you were feeling all better again, but...

Hector: N...no, I'll do it! Please, let me do it! Wah, um...

Hector had excitedly stood up, and then hesitated a moment before slowly seating himself again. But he still very firmly nodded his head.

Hector: Sir Cain, everyone, thank you so much. This time, I'll be sure I win through my own strength!

Chloe: Yep, we'll be rooting for you! But make sure you don't push yourself. If you don't think you're back to normal yet...

Mitile: Before your rematch, eat some of my sugar! It'll help you feel a little bit better.

Hector: Thank you so much, I will!

As he accepted the sugar from Mitile, Hector slowly glanced over towards Owen.

Hector: Thank you too...Owen.

Owen, still leaned up against a wall, just raised an eyebrow at him, looking bored. But he didn't poof away and vanish.

Akira: (If someone as moody as Owen isn't just leaving on the spot, that must mean he's not in a bad mood. Probably...)

Cain: Do your best, Hector. Be sure to show us what kind of knight you're going to become!

Hector: Yes...! I'll definitely become a respectable knight, right in front of you all!

✦✧☾✧✦

Cain: Looking good, Hector! Keep at it!

Akira & Mitile: You've got this, Hector!

The rematch really did take place almost immediately. Hector was fighting against the same trainee he'd been paired against before.

Lennox: They really are very evenly matched. But the height difference means his opponent has a small advantage.

Chloe: Oh, he's starting to get pushed back...! Don't lose, Hector!

Hector took a powerful attack, and he was slowly moving back. His cheeks were turning red with frustration.

Cain: Hector, calm down! Getting worked up just makes you lose sight of what you're doing!

Hector startled just a little bit, and then grit his teeth and endured his opponent's attack. And then...

Hector: Haaaah!

With a moment's opening, Hector swung his sword. Keen edge met keen edge with a harsh, metallic clang that reverberated through the air.

Opponent: ...?!

His opponent's sword spun into the air. Backed by the sky, it drew a beautiful arc through the air and then clattered onto the tile below. The referee raised his hand.

Referee: And stop! Winner, Hector!

Hector: Ah... I--I did it! I won...!!

Chloe: Wahh, you did it, you did it!

Cain: Congratulations, Hector! You did great!

Owen: Hmph. Your heart still isn't knightlike in the slightest, though.

We applauded him as he bowed to his opponent, and then he ran over to us--and we surrounded him, still clapping.

Mitile: Congratulations, Hector! Now you can become a knight like you've always wanted!

Lennox: You had good technique. Turning things around in the middle was impressive.

Oz: ...Your prayers were unneeded.

Hector: Everyone... I really can't thank you enough. How can I possibly...

Cain: No thanks are needed. You achieved your dream with your own strength.

Cain smiled beautifully. Just as bright as his sword had shined, and with the same light of the sun.

Cain: From now on, we'll be doing our best together as knights, Hector!

Hector: ...! Yes! I'll be putting my all into it!

Hector nodded fervently. His proud and dignified back reminded me a lot of Cain's.

✦✧☾✧✦

Chloe: I'm so glad everything ended up okay! Hector's gonna be a knight at the palace!

Akira: But he looked so down when he went inside after he got told to finish the paperwork to become a knight. Do you think he's okay?

Cain: He's completely terrible with everything like paperwork, reports, documents... Is this because he's trying to be like me...?

Oz: ...He is not like you. He's clever.

Cain: And I'm the one who fills out your mission reports for you, Oz. That's something the other countries' teachers do, so you should do it yourself sometime.

Mitile: Hector's going to be working at the castle as a proper knight now, right? I want to see him once everything's been finalized!

Lennox: Yes. If we have business at the castle, we'll see if we can meet with him.

Faust: As a member of the knights, he should have the opportunity to patrol in the castle town. If you see him, you can just go up and talk to him.

The wizards were chatting happily with one another, relieved that the tournament had finished without any other problems.

Akira: (I really am glad things turned out okay. But...)

I looked over at Owen. He hadn't said anything since earlier, simply watching what the others were doing.

Akira: (Normally Owen would've said something snarky by now... I wonder what's wrong?)

Cain must've noticed too, because he stepped over to Owen.

Cain: Owen, thanks for your advice out there. And thanks for helping Chloe with the knights that were being controlled.

Owen made a face at him and then kicked Cain hard in the leg.

Cain: Ow! Why are you kicking me?!

Owen: You sounded like you were half asleep, so I was trying to wake you up.

Cain: A thank-you isn't something you do in your sleep. As always, I really don't get you...

Owen looked grumpy, Cain looked like he was in pain, but the atmosphere between them wasn't a bad one.

Akira: (I wouldn't have believed this could happen, back when I first arrived in this world. Imagine these two natural enemies willingly being in the same place like this...)

Owen: See you later, my sleepyhead Sir Knight.

Cain: Wait, where are you going? We were about to go back to the manor together.

Owen: There's a stall selling pies over there that are bulging with cream like a waterlogged corpse. I want to eat one before I go back.

Cain: A cream pie... You mean sfogliatella, right? In that case you shouldn't go there, because I bet you'd like the ones from old man Conques's place more. He's got ones filled with chocolate and jam, too. They're well-known for being super sweet and delicious.

Owen: ...Where is it?

Cain: Um~m, he always opens his shop in a weird place. Go into the main building from that entrance, then past the barracks, and then turn around and go to the left, um...

Murr: Cain, that's quite the complicated expression you've got! Whatcha talking about? Are you telling Owen your weaknesses?

Cain: No weaknesses. I'm telling him where to find a specific sweets stand. He's gonna get this soft and warm cream pie called sfogliatella.

Mitile: Oh, that sounds yummy! I want to buy some to bring back to Riquet. Ah, but won't they get cold before we can get back to the manor?

Oz: There is still plenty of daylight. After buying them, we can use my magic to return.

Mitile: ...! Thank you so much, Lord Oz!

Lennox: Thank goodness, Mitile. Let's get some for Dr. Figaro and Rutile, too. Lord Faust, how about getting some for the rest of the Easterners?

Faust: Good idea. Nero and Heath are one thing, but I can see Shino eating Mitile's portion out of jealousy.

Chloe: I'll buy some for Rustica and Shylock, too!

Cain: And I want to buy some for Arthur. I imagine the Northern wizards will want some as well, so I suppose we should get some for everyone.

Akira: Good idea. We can eat them all together back at the manor!

Cain: Alright, let's go! Let me guide the way to the shop. You should come with us too, Owen. To be honest, just showing you the way will be faster than trying to explain it.

Owen: I guess there's no helping it.

Cain and Owen walked alongside everyone else. I can't exactly say the two of them were walking shoulder to shoulder, but at the very least, they were headed the same direction. I must be able to see this scene because Cain is a radiant person, the kind who never loses sight of that light.

Cain: I bet there'll be some you'll like too, Akira. The previous sage said he was the kind of guy for filling things with cream.

Akira: Filling things with cream... He must mean things like cream mitarashi! That's definitely what it is!

Cain: Then that's what I'll go with, too. I want to try things from your world, too.

Cain's golden eye sparkled, reflecting the gentle evening light. I think that the path Cain has ended up taking is a long way off from the one he intended. But still, regardless of if he walks that path as a knight or as a wizard, it seemed like he was content to keep walking down it.

***Translator’s Note: Sfogliatella is an Italian puff pastry that’s somewhat similar to a croissant, except shaped differently and with a sweet filling of your choice. Dunno what the Italians are doing here, though.

Cream mitarashi is a prepackaged sweet in the same vein as pudding cups. It consists of a piece of mochi dango, a thick sauce made of soy sauce and sugar, and then the whole thing is topped off with whipped cream.

#.mhyktl #.eventtl #.knight event

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sunfyred · 1 year

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sexual tension prompts | NOT accepting

【@scndbrn sent a raven】: [ DEFEND ]

"i said it's NOTHING !!" the prince kept insisting, his complaints falling on deaf ears as the maesters held him down and proceeded to clean the wounds rather impatiently, apparently having had enough of his wriggling.

"stop touching m— how dare you disobey me ? let go of me !" they weren't the only ones running out of patience. aegon's flailing got all the more desperate when the stupid old farts showed no signs of fear or even sympathy, still running their cold, soggy cloths along his exposed torso in an attempt to get the dirt and dried blood off of the small cuts he'd gotten from when he tumbled down the hill like the drunken fool he was.

"the queen's orders, my prince," one of them showed the courtesy to reply with, earning a hateful glare from the boy. "we must clean and tend to your wounds so that you don't get infecte—"

"unhand him." a new voice interrupted then, calm and eerily monotonous. familiar. aegon looked up to watch the maesters falter, suddenly not THAT eager to follow the the queen's orders .. a part of him was shamefully resentful— how could the younger prince inspire so much fear & respect in those who wouldn't even consider obeying the king's firstborn son .. ?

"prince aemond." the eldest of the band of old farts bowed curtly, and then finally all claws were removed. aegon was free, for now. they left the room in a hurry like mice scurrying away from a cat and aegon scoffed, still lying there on his back feeling way too tired to sit up to greet his mighty brother, may the gods forgive him !!

#i'm sorry he's such an ungrateful fucking gremlin ..#he actually appreciates it ? he just likes to be an ass too :')#【✧tried and executed】: replied #scndbrn

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soul-controller · 3 years

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Hi, I'm a very small old man. Recently I've been troubled by my young bodybuilder neighbor being rude to me. I don't think he deserves that big muscle, so can you transfer this young man's muscle and height to me? I want to teach him how to be 'polite' to an old man.

The Old Dog's New Trick

Sitting there gardening in the front yard of your house, you groan as you hear footsteps approaching. Nick was the hotshot young bodybuilder that was living a few doors down from your house, and to your annoyance, he loved to taunt you. Despite having no stable career and still living at home with his parents’, Nick’s ego had grown to incredible proportions as his body inflated with muscle. By the time he entered his first bodybuilding competition when he was 18, he believed that he was the king of the world. Being that you were an older man who clearly wasn’t as gifted in terms of muscles, he got off on taunting you in your weaker state. Approaching, the man was completely shirtless and wearing only a set of grey athletic shorts and a cocky wide grin.

Trying your best to ignore him, you continue to tend to your flowers while the shadow of his bulky frame above you blocks the heat of the afternoon sun. “How sad, an old man left with no friends but some ugly flowers…” he says, his hearty chuckle causing you to roll your eyes in frustration. “What do you want today Nick?” you ask, attempting to ignore his shady comments and get to the point of his visit. “Oh, nothing much. Just wanting to show off what a real man looks like to a wrinkling old fart like you!” he retorts, his voice dripping in pure unbridled cockiness. Despite your best intentions to ignore him and remain calm, he continues to taunt you and demand you turn to face him.

But as he moves his thick hand towards your shoulder, your body twists surprisingly fast as your older hand grasps around his wrist. Gasping in annoyance, the man attempts to pull away, but he suddenly finds himself unable to pull away. Looking up towards him, an annoyed look of disgust manifests on your face as you take in the bulky vision of the man. “You don’t deserve those muscles. You’re just a pathetic weak little man deep down…” you say, gritting your teeth as you feel pure rage coursing through your veins.

“Fuck you gramps, get your hands off of me!” he cries out, attempting to free himself from the iron-clad grasp you have on him. Looking down at your arm, Nick stares in disbelief as he watches your weathered skin begin to inflate with muscle as his quickly deflates in response. “Holy shit man, let me go! I’m sorry!” Nick cries out, but you’re refusing to loosen your grip. You wanted to teach him a lesson in the best way possible, so as he continued to freak out as his muscles dwindled and yours began to stretch the limits of your shirts, you knew that he was getting his just desserts.

With his arms becoming pencil-thin and his pectorals deflated until he’s completely flat-chested, you’re in complete awe as the inverse happens to you. Feeling your body fill up with such power and strength is incredibly alluring, which leaves you eager to continue the muscle drain. Staring at his exposed torso, you can’t help but grin devilishly at the man as his abs sink deep within his body and manifest onto your body instead. By this point, the man’s broad stance had been condensed inward, which only further showcased his flat torso and quickly-shrinking body. Still laying on the ground, you watched as your view of Nick grew closer as you grew taller and he shrank in height.

By the time the height had finished swapping between the two of you, the transformation had completed as your legs had exploded in muscle and replaced the former thick and flabby thighs you once had. Loosening your grip, you chuckled at the scrawny man who now looked quite strange while shirtless. “Looks like someone needs to respect their elders huh?” you said, a deep bellowing laugh intimidating the former bodybuilder to the point where he ran off crying back to his parents’ house.

Unfortunately for Nick, by the time he got home, reality had been partially warped to fit Nick’s new appearance. Instead of being an aspiring bodybuilder, Nick’s new life was that of a slacker. Having dropped out of college and moving back home, he was stuck in a dead-end job in retail that completely drained him of his joy. While Nick retained all of his memories about who he used to be, his parents had their memories altered to match their new reality. Instead of joy and encouragement about their son pursuing his passions, they now felt intense shame and disappointment in their failure of a child.

As Nick began to obsess over the older man who had stolen his muscles and rewritten his life, his family felt incredible disgust as they perceived the reason to be that their son had a daddy kink. Despite their best intentions to help sway him to find people of his own age bracket, they always found Nick going back to their older neighbor down the street. While they assumed that their child was being fucked by the buff older man, the reality of the situation was quite different.

Heading over to your house once a week, Nick couldn’t help but miss the muscles and life that were stolen from him. As a result, you made a deal with him that allowed him to come over and worship the muscles that were rightfully taken away from him. If he continued to do this, you vowed to give him back some of his muscles, but in reality you had no intention of ever doing this. To you, this was just another way of furthering his humiliation. Just a weak twig of a man appreciating the muscles of a real man, a man who had always deserved them...

Like what you read? Please consider signing up for my Patreon to read more stories and support my work.

#request story #muscle theft #punishment #male transformation

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elysianslove · 3 years

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helo love! i hope you're having a good day. kinda want a break from bf hq boys. can i ask for miya twins as reader's older brothers? 👉👈 i was thinking if she can be the manager of inarizaki just because i want aran to lose his mind from dealing with three miyas hahahaha. thank youuu ily!! ʕ•ε•ʔ

omg i lovelovelove the concept of the miya twins having a sister and now that i’ve gotten an ask about it skfsbfkj <3333 thank you for sending this and i hope you like it!!

MIYA TWINS WITH A YOUNGER SISTER

considering you and the two of them are only a year apart, you’re pretty close with one another. of course, the older you got, the more annoying they were, and there was this one era when they were like 9-12 that they made it their life mission to annoy you. but then they grew out of that phase eventually, and as they matured, they became more tolerable.

they’re not only teenage boys, but also your older brothers. they’re going to be annoying.

atsumu definitely does that sibling thing where he’s like eating a bowl of cereal or whatever and he enters your room, just stands there and chews really loudly, then walks back out without closing the door. it makes you want to kill him every time.

osamu probably just like tugs at your hair whenever he sees you because why not yk, especially if it’s in a ponytail or a braid. and this isn’t 9-12 year old osamu. this is like 15-17 year old osamu. he just grabs your braid and pulls. you might snap your neck one day honestly.

atsumu eats your leftovers. all the time. like literally all the time how do u still have 2 brothers and not 1

osamu comes and sits in your room like on ur couch or bed cause you have better wifi or whatever. he farts and goes “sorry :D.” he is not sorry.

sometimes the both of them team up on you and it’s so exhausting. but if you manage to get your mom on your side? consider them obliterated.

and yk what’s even more fun? when you and a twin team up on the other twin. it’s just always hilarious cause the other twin will act so betrayed vjshsdsk

anyways because you’re only one year apart, their friends are your friends and your friends are their friends. have you ever had to deal with a “best friend’s brother” type of thing where a friend of yours only wanted to come over because she heard that miya atsumu likes to walk around the house shirtless? yes.

she ended up being extremely disappointed at the fact that miya atsumu has a lot more respect for those living in the same house as him and doesn’t walk around shirtless. ironic.

but also atsumu does flirt with every single one of your friends.

flirt with his it’s okay <3

you’d think atsumu would be more protective or selfish about you being close with him and samu’s friends? nope.

it’s osamu

like, for example, every time he sees you walking alone with suna he wants to either deck suna or deck you. he can never decide on which one.

he’s just very good at hiding things like that, and atsumu isn’t, so it always seems like atsumu gives more of a shit than osamu does. and honestly, osamu’s not even sure why it bothers him so much. he’s not mad that you’re friends with his friends, like, obviously he isn’t, because he’s happy to share, especially since you’re his sister. but at the same time, he can’t help but feel like he really can’t have anything for himself you know? sounds pathetic and selfish but he can’t help it.

i think you bring it up at some point and ask him if he’s bothered by it, and it took a whileee before he admitted that yes, it kinda does. it made sense in your head though, only because he’s your brother, and obviously you’re not gonna stop being friends with them, but you understand. they were his first, in a sense.

but!!! he’s not gonna lie, osamu loves the fact that he can trust his friends with you. like if anything were to ever happen to you, he knows his friends will react the same way he would, and that alone kinda reels him in.

since you’ve known aran since you were really young, he’s kinda like a third older brother to you. he always acts like a mediator between you and your brothers (and is always on your side, even if you’re in the wrong. so what if his favoritism is showing?). you genuinely feel like you can turn to him for anything at any point if you can’t turn to your brothers first.

but out of all their friends, you’re closest to suna and you can’t explain why. he’s just so nice to be around and if you’re left alone with him, it can’t ever be awkward, even if it’s completely silent and quiet. plus, suna’s probably covered for you a couple of times if we’re being honest :)

anyways!

protective wise, they’re honestly a lot better than you’d think they’d be. like yeah they’ll give you hell if you even mention the fact that you might have a crush on someone, but in reality, they just want what’s best for you, and they want you to always be happy.

obviously, if the person of your choosing really doesn’t seem like they have your best interest in mind, your brothers will be extremely blunt about it. like i said, they want what’s best for you, and they’re not going to sugarcoat anything at all.

good luck trying to get your opinion in on their love interests they’re suddenly incapable of hearing. hypocrites and double standards <//3

they will do the whole interrogation thing, but it’s mostly because they don’t wanna look like they’re softies. they want the person to fear for their life if they even consider hurting you.

in regards to comfort;

osamu is the best listener there is. genuinely. he just sits there and lets you talk his ear off. he won’t care if you spend hours doing it. if it helps you relax, and calm down, then he’s all for it.

atsumu is who to go to when you’re sobbing and need to get your mind off of something. he’s great at distracting you, but healthily. he’s not very good at the talking thing, and he will listen if you need him to, but go to him when you don’t want to think about anything anymore, yk?

btw!! both of them are secretly huge suckers for the drama in your life. if there’s some friendship drama, they want all the details. they’re giving you the best reactions and the most ridiculous advice, and are definitely heating you up more than they should be but, what else are you expecting?

as each other’s siblings, you’re insanely supportive of each other and your respective dreams. like when you found out osamu wanted to go into a completely different field than atsumu, you spent a thousand nights trying to convince him that what he was doing was right, and spent another thousand nights trying to convince atsumu that osamu choosing a different career path didn’t mean he was leaving him behind.

whatever your own dream may be, they’re hella supportive. like suffocatingly so. if it’s something they’re well versed in, like volleyball or cooking, they’re helping you out in every way they can, every second they can. but if they’re unfamiliar with it, they’ll either pretend they’re the most knowledgable people about it and end up embarrassing themselves, or will just support you any other way they can (for example, buying or promoting your things, or proofreading, or helping you edit, etc).

when the three of you are older and have lives of your own, you still take the time out of your day to catch up. sometimes other days are harder than others, because your lives are so different that there can be no time at all, but every time you see them through a screen or you meet up after hours in osamu’s restaurant, or you and osamu sit front row at one of atsumu’s games, it genuinely doesn’t feel like any time has passed. you’re so different but the exact same.

they piss you off, insanely so, and you get on their nerves too. you’ve spat ugly words at each other, words you didn’t mean, and made each other cry, frustrated and angered one another, but at the end of the day, you’re siblings. at the end of the day, they’re the most important constants in your life. no matter what, they’re there.

you can always count on that, you know? :)

so are y’all gonna send me more prompts like these? 😼 please?

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya twins x reader #miya twins x sister!reader #miya twins x sister

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cherrycheridarling · 3 years

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'someday maybe' | t.h.

tom holland x singer!reader

warnings: one swear? fluff and angst? kisses

summary: you're so close to finishing your second album when your manager pushes the deadline, your ex tom helps you write the final track.

{listen to someday by michael bublè and meghan trainor (if you want)}

wc: 2.1k

"Someday maybe when we're old and grey,"

"Yes, yes. I know. You are not being a very helpful manager right now, Noelle." you spoke to your phone as you paced around the living room, "Okay. I'll get working on it. Bye." you huffed and threw your phone against the couch.

Your album was due to be released in two months and you needed one more song to tie it all together. Your manager, Noelle, was pushing you to finish the song so she could start the promo of the album.

You were incredibly grateful for your career, but the pressure weighed down on you everyday. Never ending.

With a final groan you picked up your acoustic guitar and sat on the couch. Picking at the strings, trying to find a melody. You hit record on your voice memo app before strumming away.

"Someday maybe when we're old and grey, we can be in love once more. 'Till then I won't give my love away. Darling, I'm forever only yours." you sang softly.

You and Tom had a joyous relationship. A love that only ever existed in movies and fairytales. The type of love story that gets told for generations and onwards. But alas, all good things must come to an end.

Your breakup was calm, serene and clean. A mutual agreement as if your whole relationship had been a business deal. There were no loose ends or jealous passive aggressive remarks made. Just maturity and respect for one another.

Your pinky still held the promise ring he gave you. A token of appreciation. A reassurance that he'd always be there for you. And he lived up to his word.

Tom walked in and sat across from you, startling you, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. Whatcha writing?"

"Need a final song for the album. Sorry for showing up unannounced. I just get better inspiration here, with all the memories, you know?" you timidly looked back down at the guitar.

Tom nodded, "No need to apologize. We gave you a spare key for a reason."

You couldn't stop yourself from spilling the words from your lips, "That was when we were together."

You could hear the awkward silence start to fill the room before he spoke again, "Still our best friend, Y/L/N."

The pain that crossed your features was instant. Being addressed by your last name felt like a stab to the gut. Especially by Tom.

You nodded before playing again, "Can I help you write it?" Tom asked as he sat next to you.

"Dancer, gymnast, actor and now songwriter. How many hidden talents have you got, Holland?" you teased making him laugh.

He shrugged with a smile, "It's kind of like writing a poem, right?"

You pondered on his analogy before slowly nodding, "Yeah, it kind of is. Give it a go."

You began playing the melody and he listened intently for a few moments before singing, "I love seeing you happy. I miss seeing that smile. It's been such a long time. A– Nope. Nope. Nuh-uh. I can't do it." he shook his head aggressively with a loud laugh as you stopped playing.

"No!" you quickly protested, "That was amazing! Don't leave me hanging, c'mon." you nudged him with your shoulder before strumming again.

"Alright, alright." he ran his hands down his face, "And although I don't have you, I know now that I need to?" he paused and gave you a skeptical look before you nodded again, "Somehow make you mine. Mmm."

"Oh, okay. He's giving ad-libs and all. Get it." you nodded as he laughed.

You were so engrossed on Tom actually writing a song with you that you didn't focus on the lyrics he was singing.

"And I won't lie, it's hard seeing you with him 'cause I know he can't hold you like I can." his mood seemed to drop by a thousand as the words left his lips.

"When can we meet this boyfriend of yours?" Harrison flicked your forehead from across the booth.

You, Harrison, Tom and Tuwaine were all sat in the local pub. Pints of beer in front of each of you as loud music and chatting filled your ears.

You shrugged, "He's picking me up, so possibly tonight."

Tuwaine's eyes lit up, "Fina-fucking-lly. I swear you've kept him hidden for years."

"We've only been together for three months, T." you laughed lightly with the group of boys.

And they met him. It wasn't the smoothest of introductions, but an introduction nonetheless.

"Boys, this is Kai. Kai this is Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine." you gestured to the parties as they all shook hands and gave polite greetings.

"So," Harrison started, "What do you do for a living, Kai?"

Kai cleared his throat, "I'm a Senior Resident at Kingston Hospital. Working towards being Head of Pediatrics."

Tuwaine and Harrison both nodded, impressed by his profession. Tom's face remained expressionless as he stared at Kai with cold eyes.

"Do you have any siblings, Kai? Any psycho ex-girlfriends? Any wacky cousins?" Tuwaine joked making everyone laugh. "'Cause Y/N has a lot of wacky cousins."

"We could be in love once more,"

"Hey!" you gasped with a laugh.

Kai pulled you closer to him as he laughed, "No, no wacky cousins or psycho exes, but I do have an older sister and a younger brother."

This game of ask and answer continued on for a few more minutes. Tom didn't say a word, just sipped his beer and burned holes into Kai with his eyes. If looks could kill, Kai would be six feet under.

Kai was a sweetheart, but you two ended ages ago. His work got too much for him and your job had you touring and travelling every second.

You picked up after him with the chorus before diving into your own verse, "I remember that love song. I sang every word wrong, but you didn't mind, no, no."

"I love the things you do. It's how you do the things you love. Well it's not a love song, not a love song. I love the way you get me, but correct me if I'm wrong. This is not a love song, not a love song!" Tom belted the 'Austin & Ally' song from the top of his lungs.

"Your turn!" he pointed the pretend mic in your direction.

You laughed, not knowing any of the lyrics, but still wanting to participate, "I love that you not a licket! And you own a watch and chicken! We got a car!" you sang with full confidence, making Tom burst with laughter.

"Yes! Sing it, darling!" he cheered you on, "Absolutely butchering the lyrics, but sing it!"

"Being stuck inside a car. If it's not a doe, don't kiss it! I can't hear a missing, when there's a shoe inside the ceiling! If you really need to fart, you can lunch on a pig farm! Love song! Love song!" you couldn't even hear the song in the background, your voice overpowering it.

Tom was hunched over from laughing before he came back up and planted a soft kiss on your lips, "You are one hundred percent ridiculous and I love it."

You brought yourself back to reality and sang again, "And I'll admit that I miss you, but only if you do. 'Cause you know that I'm shy. And I can't lie, it's hard seeing you with her. 'Cause I know she can't love you like I can."

Tom's eyes met yours as the words fell from your gentle lips. His mouth was slightly agape as you continued to strum.

"You are absolute rubbish. Imagine coming in eighth. Embarassing." you laughed as you crushed Harrison in a game of Mario Kart.

He shoved you with his shoulder, "You're such a try ha—"

"—It's always the same, Tom! How can I trust you? You follow gorgeous models on Instagram and expect me to trust you?" Nadia's voice cut Harrison's words off.

You looked at him with wide eyes, his expression matching yours.

"Those women that I follow have been my friends for ages. Who I follow on a stupid app shouldn't effect how much you trust me."

You paused the game, cutting off the theme song, "How long have they been fighting like this?"

Harrison sighed, a long groan following, "A few weeks. I think it started when she saw that he liked your Instagram picture?"

You stammered, "M-my post? She got mad about my post?"

Harrison nodded before opening his mouth to speak, but Nadia cut him off again, "And she practically lives here! How do you think it makes me feel seeing my boyfriend play house with a superstar?!"

"Aw, a superstar? I'm flattered." you joked making Harrison stifle a laugh.

"I've been friends with Y/N since we were in nappies!"

"I can't be with you if you're going to be friends with her."

Your laughter abruptly died at her words. Harrison stiffened beside you.

"Y-you can't be serious. You can't make me choose between you and her."

"Why? Because you're gonna choose her?" you could hear her voice crack.

"I-" Tom couldn't make out a sentence for a few moments, "Yeah. I'm gonna choose her."

Your heart fell from it's place, stopping at your feet. Harrison brought a hand to his mouth, "H-he chose you. He chose you!" he whisper shouted before you shushed him.

"Of course. I don't know why I expected anything different. I think I'll be going now." Nadia's footsteps approached the living room.

You and Harrison scrambled to look as if you weren't eavesdropping on their argument/breakup.

Tom followed close behind her, "I'm sorry. I really am."

She nodded, hand on the doorknob, "I know. Goodbye." she stepped out of the house, slamming the front door shut in the process.

Tom let out a breath of relief before turning to you and Harrison who were staring at the Mario Kart home screen with the infamous tune playing.

"You guys are terrible actors."

"'Till then I won't give my love away,"

"I'm forever only yours." the both of you finished the song in unison.

There was a moment of silence before you reached over and ended the voice recording.

"T-that was really good. You can change what I wrote, I know it isn't as good as anything you would've written, but I tried. And it was actually pretty fun and I never knew how difficult songwriting was un—"

"—Kiss me." you cut Tom's rambling off.

His eyes grew wide, "W-wha—"

"—Kiss me, Holland."

He swallowed, a small smile stretching on his lips, "Thank God."

And with that, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. Interlocking like missing puzzle pieces. Moving in sync like waves in the ocean. Soft and sweet, but filled with passion. You could feel his smile against your lips causing you to grin.

His hand came up to pull your face closer into his. Caressing your jaw, fingertips playing with the hairs on the back of your neck. His other hand holding your hip in a tight grip. Pressing the pads of his digits into your flesh, scared that you might slip through his fingers again.

One of your hands was pressed flat against his chest. Steadying yourself, the heat of the kiss threatening to throw you off of your axis. Your other hand tangled itself into Tom's curls. Pulling and tugging lightly causing small groans to fall from Tom's lips. Your fingernails scratching his scalp. Pulling him impossibly closer to you.

"I want my ten pounds." Harrison's voice snapped you and Tom out of your make out session.

Him and Tuwaine stood in the doorway, shit eating grins on their faces.

Tuwaine laughed before placing a ten pound note in Harrison's palm, "You guys couldn't have waited until next month to get back together?"

"You two were betting on us?" Tom laughed at his mates who nodded.

You shook your head with a smile, "Absolute idiots, all of you."

Harrison let out a happy sigh and pocketed the money, "Today was a good day. Had a sick ass shoot. Got ten pounds. And my best friends are finally together again." he waltzed into the kitchen with Tuwaine, leaving you and Tom alone again.

Tom's shy expression met your gleeful one before he spoke, "Someday came a lot sooner than expected, huh?" he chuckled.

You nodded with a laugh, "It certainly did and I am not complaining."

He sent you a wide grin before cupping your face and connecting your lips to his again.

"Darling, I'm forever only yours."

#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x osterfield!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland one shot #tom holland blurb #tom holland headcanon #tom holland series #tom holland fic

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bluesest · 2 years

Text

A Road Trip

John would make a long trip, he was studying at a university that was in a state away from his old home, the trip would last hours, the good thing is that a friend offered to accompany him, Elian also lived in the same state as Jhon, and how It was the university vacations, they decided to travel together, with each other's company nothing bad was going to happen, it would also be fun to spend some time together, since their university activities did not give them much free time, they got into Jhon's car, carrying different objects for their little adventure, fried foods, gasoline, toilet paper, water, money, among others, everything indicated that it was going to be a calm and carefree trip, where both would have a great time, but Elian was very wrong. They opened the chips, and while John drove, they began to eat and chat for a while about what they would do when they returned, their university activities, their friends, etc. An hour passed, when Jhon noticed a strange and disgusting smell, he asked Elian: "Do you notice that strange smell?" Elian responded with a No, Jhon reached over and checked the seats, since it was a freshly washed car, and he didn't want some of the things they had bought to destroy the car, Jhon said: "I'm going to stop the car and check better the back seats", Elian told him: "Don't stop the car just for that", then Jhon continued on his way, just 5 minutes later, the same smell would have returned, Jhon wanted to stop the car, but Elian convinced him again After 3 minutes, the smell intensified, and Jhon said: "I'm going to stop the car now", Elian told him: "Don't do it", but Jhon replied: "That horrible smell won't go away, something we bought he would have fallen" and Elian embarrassed told him: "Actually, it's me, those fritters filled me with farts", The car was filled with silence and Jhon apologized.

Elian said: "Open the windows, since I'll keep farting", but Jhon refused and told him that nothing was wrong, the car smelled terrible, but Jhon refused to open the windows, since in this type of situation, He got very hot, the hours went by, the farts were less frequent, but at the same time, they had a worse smell and were more and more humid, Elian told him: "I'm sorry, (Pffffft) but I just can't stop" Jhonn sympathized with him, and then he farted himself, Elian laughed thinking that Jhon was doing it as a way to support him, however, Jhon did it to feel hotter, after that, Jhon put on his headphones, because that the trip, except for the farts, became boring, Jhon heard Elian say: "Hey, stop the car", however Jhon pretended not to hear him, after a while, Elian shook Jhon's arm, he took off his headphones and I hear: "You have to stop the car", Jhon already knew the answer, but still asked: "Why?" Elian told him that he needed to go to the bathroom, so Jhon asked him if he was going to urinate, but Elian told him: "Bro, I need to go to the bathroom urgently", Jhon noticed that they were in the middle of nowhere and said: "No You're going to shit in the open air, right? We'd better wait until we find a gas station", Elian agreed and they continued with the trip. 10 minutes passed, the car started to stink again, while Elian stirred in his own seat, Elian said: "I really have to go shit right now, how long until I get to the gas station", Jhon said that the gas station more The closest was 40 miles, Elian got angry and said: "Stop the car right now", Jhon obeyed, Elian got out of the car in a hurry, unfortunately, he was holding on for a long time, and not having stretched his legs a few hours ago could not walk to a more private place, Elian warned Jhon not to turn around, and then he undressed, squatted down, and began to have a bout of diarrhea, even though Jhon wanted to see Elian, that made him happy. It would make him look like a pervert, but luckily for him, you could clearly hear the sounds that Elian expels from his anus, giving a good description to Jhon of what was going on, Elian said "Oh dear, why?, why? (Spurt of diarrhoea) how it hurts, (Fart) I- I'm very sorry Jhon, but I splashed I love your... AAAAH (Spurt of diarrhea), your car..." Jhon, containing himself, said: "That doesn't matter, you calm down".

When he finished, Elian asked Jhon for toilet paper and then he cleaned himself up, leaving the stained paper on the road and then he got in the car, Jhon said: "You stink!!" but Elian told him: "I had an anal explosion a minute ago, the car is still parked next to my intestinal soup, under a great sun, I stained my pants and splashed on your car door, what did you expect?" began to laugh, and they resumed the trip, Elian said to Jhon: "Hey, that was very embarrassing, but I'm glad you're not angry because I've stained your recently washed car" Jhon responded by saying: "Well, having an accident like a baby is enough, isn't it?", Jhon had only forgiven him, just because it was the sexiest thing he's ever seen, Elia said: "I'm still full of gas" and Jhon replied: "I guess not We should buy those fritters again, also don't be so hard on yourself (Pfffft) I'm also full of gas", Elian said: "I hope you don't have an intestinal attack" and Jhon, between laughs said: "Really?, have an accident like you? Never", they both laughed, now the farts were from both of them, they knew that soon they would have to shit ar furiously, so John devised a plan. Jhon said: "I have plastic pants, one of those you use only because you have to shit urgently, besides, you also have spare pants", Elian surprised, asked Jhon for more explanations about what they were going to do, Jhon continued:" Listen, I'll (Pfffft) shit in those plastic pants, while (Elian's fart) you'll shit in your pants" Elian rejected the idea but Jhon managed to convince him by telling him that having a gigantic shit in his pants would strengthen their friendship Also, if he doesn't, he'll tell everyone at the university that Elian took a shit on the road and in Jhon's car, Elian laughed, and as he let out another fart, I agree, Jhon Said, "Well, because I'm about to shit myself right now", Jhon stopped the car, got naked in front of Elian, Elian turned around, but Jhon told him: "Don't be shy, haven't all the male friends seen each other's penis before?" , Elian then had no compunction in appreciating Jhon's penis, the plastic was tran sparente, and having the purpose of not shitting on his clothes, Jhon was naked, a great warm breeze came out of Jhon's anus while he moaned, and an erection was noticeable, the pants contained all the waste, however, his diarrhea stained his legs; Blushing, Jhon asked: "What do you think?" Elian said: "Not bad, but can you get over me?", Elian put his hands on his stomach and quickly his pants became more yellowish and wet, Jhon finally could see how Elian's shit was, it was yellow and super liquid, while Jhon's was thicker and browner, then he realized that he was deducing this as he shit in his own car on purpose, while noisy farts were coming out of each other, they started talking, Elian said: " Hey, yes, that is (Jhon's diarrhea jet) a good shit, it reminds me of when I eat (Pffft) tacos", Jhon replied: "Because yours is yellow?, Wow, you have a bad digestion, you remember me when I eat...(Spout of diarrhea like a waterfall and sizzling and vibrating farts come out) Ahhh my anus!!!", After finishing, they continued talking, while bathing with the water they brought.

#Diarrhea #Road Trip #University #Farts #Poop on pants #Coprophilia

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buttsmasher · 3 years

Text

Smell of an Alpha

[The fantastic @one-inch-chick submitted the photo that gave me this idea. BTW if you haven’t checked out his art yet, you should do so, he’s extremely talented. Feel free to check out the photo here.]

Warnings/Tags: Face Farting, Gay Farting, Willing Victim, Teasing, Pass out from Farting, Cumming from Farting

You try not to stare as Demarcus runs around the track. But the way his ass moves up and down in those tight pants is just purely erotic. You can’t not stare, and you know you can’t be the only one. No man should have an ass that fat and so hypnotic. You just try to take a peek and next thing you know, you dick is straining in your trainers as you’ve watched him run two laps.

You firmly shut your eyes and put your head in your hands so there’s absolutely no way you can keep staring. You keep willing your boner to go away so you can go back to stretching and start your morning jog, but your mind keeps wandering to Demarcus’s massive ass. You can’t help but imagine having him sit straight down onto your face after running all day in this terrible heat.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You say absentmindedly as you ball your hands into fists. “Come on man, get yourself together.” You gave your cheeks two slaps before jumping up and bouncing from foot to foot. Your eyes are still closed and by some miracle your boner has decided to leave. But when you open your eyes, you freeze.

Demarcus is currently in front of you bent over touching his toes, his ass in perfect view. Your mouth falls open and you can feel drool starting to drip out of your mouth. His ass is just...perfect. There’s no other word for it, and you just want to know what it feels like. Your body takes a step closer to where he’s currently stretching. You have no control over yourself as you move on auto-pilot.

You watch as your hand reaches out and smacks his sizable ass. Then your hand grasps his right cheek and you shake it. His ass fills your hand completely and you can smell his musky body from where you’re standing. Your eyes go up his back and you come eye to eye with him. He’s giving you a confused look as he looks down at your hand and then back up to you and he gives you the most shit-eating grin.

“You havin’ fun?” He asks knowingly.

“Uh-uh I-I-” You fumble for words as you snatch your hand away. “Wh-why did I do that?”

“It’s alright bud.” He claps your shoulder. “You’re not the first fag to get overwhelmed by me.”

“I’m-uhh-” You clear your throat “not a fag?” You don’t know why it comes out as a question but it makes Demarcus laugh.

“Look man,” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. “I know I have a great ass. I ain’t blind. And what kind of human would I be if I didn’t let a fag get off to my ass every now and then.” He moves a hand of yours so it’s touching his glutes.

“Uh thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” His smile is very confusing, a bit cocky but also a bit genuine. You’re not too sure what to make of it. You both stand there quietly as he continues to let you grope his ass. He then slowly moves your hand over his crack.

PFFFFFFF

You stare at him in horror as you realize he just farted on your hand.

“Well I have to get going.” He looks at an imaginary watch. “See ya around?” You stare at your hand and then back at him then back at your hand.

“Yeah-well maybe?” Your confusion makes him laugh and you watch as he walks away.

“See ya tomorrow fag!” He gives a wave and you wave back even though he’s not even looking at you.

“Tomorrow? Yeah.” You mumble the words not really registering with you. All you can focus on is your hand. You slowly bring it up to your nose and you take a small whiff. Your eyes go cross as his lingering ass funk fills your nose. You need to get home now!

You rush back to your car to head home, totally forgetting to even do your workout. The only thing you can focus on is how his ass felt as you squeezed and how amazing that fart smelt on your hand. You can’t even wait to get home and end up having to stop on the side of the highway to rub one out. You end up cumming in your boxers and by the time you get home it’s all gross and dried.

You plant your face against your steering wheel to catch your breath. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You sigh.

*****The Next Day*****

You’re embarrassed to say that you came back the next day just to see Demarcus in action again. Not even pretending to do a workout today, you try to hide in an inconspicuous spot where you don’t think he’ll be able to notice you. You even bring binoculars with you.

Shit, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are a fag.

You’re looking through them, trying to find any sign of him when finally you see him exit the locker rooms and head out to the track. This time he’s wearing a tighter pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination.

You take a big gulp, trying your best not to let your mind get overwhelmed with even more inappropriate thoughts. You can’t lie though, you came about 5-7 times last night from different scenarios you would beg Demarcus to try. But right now, this is probably the best you’ll get.

You spy as Demarcus stretches on the side of the track. Again his ass is in perfect view and your dick is quickly tightening your pants. He lifts his leg up to his butt and holds it for a moment and then does the other before he finally starts jogging around the track. You notice he seems to be going slower than yesterday and in his second lap you can see himself fanning his face like he smelled something bad.

Your mind immediately goes back to one of your mastubatory dreams from last night where he loads you up with his manly gas. The thoughts make your dick thoroughly strain against your boxers and you try your best to think of anything else.

Demarcus stops in front of you, maybe 20 feet away from your hiding spot. He puts his hands on his knees and takes a couple of deep breaths.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

From your vantage point, you can hear him releasing terrible torrents of gas. “Fuck.” He says pretty loudly as he rubs his stomach. “What did they put in that protein shake?” Demarcus stretches to the left and then to his right and makes eye contact with you. You see his pained face turn into a mischievous smile.

“Well hey there fag face!” He says standing upright. You give a short wave back as he walks towards you. “Were you here hiding from me?”

“Nooo.” You say unconvincingly. “I just like-uh-being one with nature.”

“Sure you do.” You see his right eye twitch.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

“I’m telling ya man, I’ve got the worst gas today.” He pats his stomach a couple times.

“Yeah I can, uhh, hear that.”

“If only there was a fag ‘round here, that would graciously sniff these butt blasts so I don’t have to smell them.” You gulp, he couldn’t possibly mean you could he. “Do you know one?” You shake your head no. “You sure?” You nod. “Well if you find one, tell him I’ll be in the locker rooms.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” You whisper-yell as Demarcus jogs back towards the direction of the locker rooms. You argue with yourself whether or not you’re going to go. “I have to go.” You stand upright. “I have to.” You quickly jog after Demarcus.

When you get to the locker room, you see Demarcus bending over the bench and letting out soft groans.

PFFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFF PFFFFFFFFFF

He’s still letting out farts and you can’t stop yourself from walking up behind him and getting on your knees. Demarcus notices you and makes a show of shaking his ass. “Couldn’t stay away couldya?” You sheepishly shake your head no and you take a loud inhale of his musky ass. “It’s alright, all you fags need to learn at some point.” He moves his hand behind your head and holds you firmly against him. “You can’t resist an alpha.”

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

You’re subjected to the pure manly stank of him. It’s raw and terrible and it makes your eyes water. He strongly smells of rotten eggs and you have to ask yourself how you got yourself in this situation. You don’t fight him though, you just stay there taking deep whiffs of his ass funk.

“There you go, breathe me in.” Your mouth slightly falls open. “Let my ass control your thoughts.” His voice is so calm and addicting, you fall into a trance. “Deep breath.” You take a large inhale.

PFBRBRBBFFFFTTTT PFFF

He times the farts perfectly making sure you get a lungful of his toxic fumes. “Yeah, like that. Breathe me in fag.” You take another large breath not wasting any of the rotten garbage he’s releasing from his ass.

He lets go of the back of your head. “Lay down for me fag.”

“Yes sir.” You obey laying down on the rough concrete floor.

“Good fag.” He squats down over your face, his ass not quite touching you.

PFFFFFFFBRBRB PFFFFFFF PFFFF PBFBFBF PFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFF

“Aww fuck.” He sighs in relief and you push your head against his clothed ass again. “You like how that smells?”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes Alpha.” He corrects.

“Yes alpha.”

“What’s it smell like?”

PRFFFBFFFTTT PFFFFFFTTTT

“Old eggs. Rott-rotten sewage?” You struggle to put a coherent thought together, your fag brain blissed out.

“Do you want more?”

“Please alpha, give me more.” You beg and you hear him chuckle.

“Anything for you faggot.” You watch as he pulls his shorts down so you’re staring at his bare ass. He finally puts his full weight on you by sitting down straight onto your face.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTTT

“That’s just for you fag. So make sure you get it all in your fag lungs.”

“It smells so good, alpha.” Your brain is empty with the only thought to serve him.

“You fags are so easy. One whiff of a man, and here you are. Begging me for my nasty farts. You’re as bad as a pig. You know that right? You’re a pig, fag.”

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFFFTTT

You know he’s right. You should be disgusted, but seriously you’re so fucking hard you’re scared that you’re about to unload in another pair of your boxers. Your eyes are rolled back in pleasure as you inhale everything he gives you.

“I bet I could make you cum from this.” He waggles his hips, making sure you’re bounced between both of his cheeks. “Think you could cum from me farts piggy?” You fevisherly nod your head yes, and he laughs. “Fucking pathetic.” He gets out between laughs.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

And there it is. You’re seeing stars as you start shooting your load in your boxers.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFTT

His ass doesn’t let up as your back arches from the amount of cum you’re shooting. It’s probably one of the best orgasms that has rocked your body.

PFFFFFBRBRBFFF PBBBFFFFFFFFFFFF

Fart after fart gets let loose to the point that you go from seeing stars to everything going black from lack of fresh air.

“Alpha.” You struggle.

“Nighty night piggy.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT

Everything goes black as your head falls lax onto the concrete floor. The worst smelling fart knocks out any remaining fresh air that you had left. Demarcus gets up leaving you on the floor to marinate in his stink. When you do finally wake up, you find his scent still lingering all over you and your shorts are sticky from dried cum.

You can’t help it that your hand snakes its way down to your dick and you start jacking off to the lingering scent of the alpha. It’s natural for a piggy to love the stink, especially a piggy fag like you.

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aenaxes-moved · 3 years

Text

soirée

[cody x gn!reader] sometimes, commander cody, diplomatic duties can be set aside. otherwise known as living, if only for a brief moment, with the golden boy.

warnings: none

w/c: 2.8k

a/n: i just think dancing with cody on a lakefront at sunset would be infinitely nice. and y/n is gender neutral! they could be read as more feminine coded because of their gown and heels but there are no explicit pronouns/gendered references.

"Have you ever danced for a gala, Cody?"

"I can't say I have, senator," Cody responds as the Theelin representatives pass by. Some tenuous balance of concern and mild amusement playing over the arch in his brow, he watches you lift the long hem of your gown to rub at your ankles.

"I would recommend you avoid it if possible," you say, grimacing when your fingers brush over a sure blister come dawn. "Nasty business, dancing."

Were he but a newly made acquaintance, as he had been when he had known you by name and Fox's fond regard alone, he would most certainly be on his highest guard. But after Obi-wan had very inconspicuously assigned him to your escort detail, placing you through a grand total of one assassination attempt and two stolen frigates, he allows himself a sort of relaxed regard that only comes by a bond forged in the belly of a ship under heavy fire.

Camaraderie, he had called it breathlessly as you wiped engine grease from your robes, collapsing against him after you had finally toggled the hyperdrive online.

Friendship, you had countered with the firm clack of your wrench on the helm. You recall with brilliant clarity that his hand had been warm when you had gripped it tight, illuminated the ghostly blue of the streaks of light flooding the viewport.

Comrades were bound to duty; friends, something much more. So he allows himself to stand back at pause to admire how the setting sun gleams over your skin, how your nose scrunches just slightly as you fuss at the sheer inconvenience of your heels, as if you are not as radiant in his eyes as the fading light sparkling and rippling over the water.

"Truly, an unfortunate part of the democratic process, y/n," Cody chuckles.

Without the presence of other senators to demand the formalities of titles and decorum, you watch his shoulders slacken from sharp attention as he calls you by your name. The cool neutrality of his gaze as a soldier softens into a warm amusement meant for a dear friend, and you are happy to bask in its glow despite the groaning ache in your feet.

"If I knew there would be this much dancing in politics, I would have listened to my mother and taken her speeder shop," you groan.

"And deprive the Senate of your voice?" Cody asks, and his smile, as discreet and small as it may be, is irresistible.

"You have to actually convince me, Cody."

"Fair enough. Then, deprive the 212nd of your acquaintance?"

You hum, your fingers suddenly still over your heels as he watches you genuinely contemplate his words.

"Just a bit closer," you prod, a playful gleam in your eye.

"I thought you said you didn't like 'fawning sycophancy,'" Cody snorts. "You and your politician language."

"I don't like groveling politicians. I won't turn down flattery if it is from you, my dear commander," you respond, unable to hide the bright smile high on your lips.

"Then, say you'd taken the speeder shop. Would you deprive me of your acquaintance?" Cody relents with a huff. It's nothing but a puff of breath exhaled soft, but it's a welcome sound close to the rich warmth of his laughter, the sound of the poorly concealed joy glimmering in his deep brown eyes.

"If you help me to a quiet place where I can simply sit for the rest of the evening, I might just tell you if that was enough," you tease, offering your hand to him with a haughty flourish as if you were the queen of Naboo herself and not a common voice of the people of Coruscant. Cody rolls his eyes, breaking into a brief grin that flashes over his expression as brilliant as the sun.

You're already in a bit of a secluded spot a few paces away from the swelling quartet music and bureaucratic chatter, giving you the space to break your level-headed courtesies and poke fun. But more than anything, you simply want time alone with the commander in all the impeccable neatness of his uniform dress. Besides, while you think you make quite a pair—the clean press of his formal whites and the shimmer silk of your ivory gown shimmering in the sunset—the old senatorial farts have little regard for the handsome soldier in your company (and it's, really, their loss).

"Are you suggesting I help you escape from your very important diplomatic duties?" Cody asks, a low gasp light on his lips. How many times have you played this game, knowing damn well that the both of you would much rather die in a firefight than sit through a foggy senator raising toasts? It's become close to second nature, now.

"I absolutely am, commander," you nod firmly. "As I always say, sometimes, commander Cody, diplomatic duties may be set aside. This is one of those dreadful times."

He rolls his eyes again, but this time, he takes your outstretched hand, complete with a low bow as he plays along with your theatrics. You rise, only to wobble on your heels, but Cody is there to gently grasp your arms, ever steady. The consternation that flashes over his eyes for a brief moment is deep, more than simple concern, and while you cannot exactly label what his expression betrays, it sets your heart fluttering in your throat all the same.

What Separatist arguments and militaristic rebukes could not rile in your unflappable calm on the Senate floor, Cody effortlessly awakes. It's his power, you think as you regain your footing. The man spun from gold.

"There's a place over the water by the back of the villa," you say, falling into step beside him as the din of the party recedes behind you. "I think we should find some peace and quiet there."

"So you already had an escape route planned out?" Cody laughs. "I guess you never needed a security detail in the first place."

"Well, 'needed' isn't exactly accurate. Maybe 'strongly preferred?'" you offer, and Cody laughs a bit brighter. It's funny, how you barely feel the ache in your feet as contentment blooms triumphant in your chest.

By the time you sneak past the serving droids, stifling soft laughter when you hide from a few stray representatives, the sun is a slim arc curved over the silvery waters of the lake. In the moments of approaching dusk, you stand far from the treaty talks and ulterior motives before an old gazebo, its curved arches heavy with flowering vines like verdant curtains awaiting your arrival.

You look to Cody with bright eyes and squeeze his hand.

"We only have a few minutes of light left," you say in a hushed, excited whisper as the the purpling darkness of night begins to chase the sunset light. With little but the soft lakefront winds breezing through the blooming pavilion arches, there is no need to whisper. But your time with the commander is a precious, fragile thing, so easily burst by the sudden arrival of your colleagues or his men. A whisper is only a savoring tribute to this rare moment. "Dance with me."

"I thought you said dancing was 'nasty business,'" Cody chuckles.

"With you, a dance is a pleasure," you say, the whispers of laughter on the tip of your tongue.

"All due respect, but this is the first time we've shared a dance y/n," Cody teases as you tug him to duck under the creeping trellis vines and onto the sun-kissed stone of the little pavilion. "What makes you so certain you'll enjoy this one?"

"Dancing at these," you wave your hand with a sigh, "little parties are nasty, only if by virtue of the other senators with whom I am obligated to dance. They see me as a rival or a signatory to be won over or fought, and dance is little but a means to an end. But with you..."

The words fall back on your tongue as Cody emerges from under the low-hanging leaves, immediately awash in the glimmering gold light of the sun. He is a kind of breathtaking awe in the cresting cold of dawn, chin held high and proud. But in the resplendence of the waning sun, as he tugs his gloves from his hands, he is the warm and steadfast comfort of home.

In his relaxed posture and soft, dark eyes lies the kind of beauty that you ascribe to an ancient sun rising from behind a waking planet. A star brimming with ageless wisdom and forgiving light, as the sunlight dances over the commander's even, tawny skin, he is nothing short of life breathed into pure gold.

"With you, even a dance can be something I hold dear," you finish as he catches your wide-eyed wonder with a wry smile.

"Very well, senator," he says, a smooth, diplomatic cadence that's sickly enough for you to laugh. He extends a hand to you with a flourish, and you relish in the pure joy. "May I have this honor?"

"With pleasure," you grin.

Although he claimed to never have danced, Cody fluidly assumes a regal sort of poise, moving your hand to his shoulder and settling his free hand light on the small of your back. You have seen him heft his brothers over his shoulder; you have seen him cast aside his blaster for raw strength; you have seen the firm hand he carries wherever he goes. And yet, he is gentler than ever as you step close and meet his eyes to share a smile.

With a soft inhale, you begin a simple waltz over the warm stone.

For the first few steps, there is form. You quietly nudge him to take your lead, step by step, and he is a diligent student as he follows. But where political waltzes have always kept rigid time, space between your chests and guarded caution to the orchestral suites, you quickly fall into something sweet, unhurried and soft as your steps become slow sways in the fading light.

Wordless, brimming with joy, you are free. Cody lifts your hand above your head, laughing with you as you tiptoe through a spin that gently flares your dress, and a few dizzying turns and careful dips later, you can't help but wonder if Cody's heart is racing as fast as your own.

Too enraptured by his steadfast composure (even with the warmth in his eyes), you do little to mask your surprise when Cody shifts his hand higher up your back and tugs you close, pressing you flush to his chest under the emerging starscape above.

Shock, then saccharine goodness, sweet on your tongue, floods you as you slip your hand from his. After a beat of hesitation, testing, careful, you slowly reach up and rest your arms over Cody's shoulders, waiting for the bashful regret to overtake you when he might gently let you down. (It's unbecoming of you, you think shamefully, no matter how closely you may regard him as a friend.)

But the rejection never comes.

Instead, as the sun slips below the lake horizon, Cody simply fixes you with a soft smile and clasps his hands behind your waist, pulling and keeping you close while he continues to sway with the lake breeze. He does not need to speak for you to know his presence bared to you, not as a soldier or as your guard, but as a humble man to bear witness to the starlight in your eyes.

Heart beating wildly in your throat, you press a bit farther, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. You have all but stopped your lazy waltz, simply swaying in place with the cool night winds fast approaching. In the stillness, you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against your ear, a steady, reassuring rhythm that quells the giddy excitement from your chest. Yet you still start when he lifts one hand from your waist to the nape of your neck, raising delightful shivers as he strokes his thumb over your skin.

"Cody," you murmur.

You are certain it is no mistake that when Cody turns towards your voice that he presses close, his lips ghosting over your brow. You are no stranger to his closeness in harrowing blaster battles and narrow escapes from certain death. But this is new, the tenuous gossamer of intimacy not yet shared, as you reach for him and he reaches back.

"Yes, cyar'ika?"

(Cyar'ika? You do not recognize the sound, but it floods heat over your cheeks all the same.)

"My answer. About whether it was enough to choose the Senate over the speeder shop," you begin, reveling in how close Cody stands, cradling you so close that you feel his soft breaths over your skin. "Sometimes I wonder if I would have been happier outside of the politics."

"I hear a 'but,'" Cody muses. But instead of any teasing bite to his words, there is only patience, fond and warm.

"But if I had stayed in the lower levels; if I had never come to the Senate, I would have never left the surface. I would have never come to call a jedi general a friend, nor would I have known your men. I would have never met you. And to meet someone like you..."

You pause, sighing deep as your heart begins to pound anew.

"It is beyond enough."

Upon your last word, you hold your breath close.

You had only intended this to be a part of your teasing game of lighthearted chase with the commander. What was meant to be a quick and breezy escape from the politics of gowns and frivolities (even if you could not deny your affections for the commander) has brought you here, wondering if your words might be a push too far. Truths they may be, but they open you to uncharted waters. And you tremble in the falling night at the vague possibilities and consequence.

"Cyar'ika." Cody's voice, still as the lake stretched behind you, rumbles above your ear. "Do you know what that means, y/n?"

You shake your head slowly against him, only to meet him with eyes wide in surprise when he gently takes your jaw in his hand and tugs you upright.

"It means," he says quietly, sliding his palm from your chin to your cheek. "Sweetheart."

You're too stunned to do anything but blink when you feel his lips on your forehead.

"Darling."

Another touch, this time, pressed to your cheek as your eyes slide shut. You wait, anticipating with blooming wonder the promise of more lingering on his tongue. But when he does not return, you open your eyes, and Cody is waiting for you, dark eyes and soft smile radiant even without the glow of the setting sun.

"Beloved," he says at last, and tips your chin to press one final, dizzyingly gentle kiss to your lips. He may not meet you in vivacious energy, but Cody holds you close, pressing unhurried, luxuriant touches over your skin as you hold tight. His touch is chaste, stolid restraint holding him to only slow, deliberate motions, but you savor every fleeting moment in the evening calm.

When you part, you open your eyes to dusk in its clear, cold darkness, bejeweling the lakefront with scatter of stars high above. Yet all you can see is Cody before you, his soft smile and beating heart glowing brighter than any constellation in the inky black of night, his own radiant sun, spun gold.

Enchanted, you reach one hand up from its place on his shoulder and slowly, trembling, touch one finger to the scar carved around his brow. And he knows that you mean nothing but adoration as you trace the dark ridge of his scar beneath his eye, then lower, over the proud line of his cheek to cradle his jaw in your palm.

"I am only a soldier," Cody murmurs, nuzzling close into your touch. "Cyar'ika," he calls, leaning close to kiss your cheek. "Will you have me all the same?"

The cooling wind rises across the water, brushing stray petals from the trellis vines as your gown flutters around your feet. You wonder if this is what it feels to fly through the aftermath of a supernova, the silence of what was and yet the promise of what might yet be, glittering dust and neon gas diffusing into the ever expanding possibility of the universe. You wonder if this is right where you were always meant to be, aching feet and politics and shared breaths with a simple man with eyes full of light and heart like the sun.

"Only if you will have me," you reply, and the smile that breaks over Cody's lips is brighter than any sunset light you have seen, golden and alive. "Cyar'ika."

#listen to l'autre valse d'amelie if you want to feel extra fuzzy #i think i never know how to properly tag my fics but that's okay #also because i am writing this absolutely plastered #but soft cody warm cody little ball of cody #cody x reader #commander cody x reader #the clone wars x reader #yaej.writes

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jaskierisbi · 3 years

Text

lines and verses from every amazing devil song that hit

King

But our voices collide with each howl of the tide || Singing all hell and its fire waits for us

All that matters || Is that you’re here

Pruning Shears

My entire life it's running away too fast || Watching everyone I've ever loved walk past || Never really quite getting the knack of || Knowing no one will not || Ever come back for you

Shower Day

Would have stayed if you'd had asked || But instead you just walk past

You're the one who told me my hair looked better black || You're the one who told me to never look back || You're the one who asked me if I'm feeling ok || I said I'm fine || It's just a sitting down in the shower day

Leave the room but you get caught in the rain || Know you should love him but it's such a pain || Would have stayed if you'd had asked || But instead you just walk away

Elsa’s Song

I can hear the cannons calling || As though across a dream || And I can smell the smoke of hell || In every stitch and seam || And like flowers, the bodies tumble || Around this muddied lot || I cannot hear them scream || ‘Forget me not.’

Pray

Pray for me, I'll run until I begin to understand || What holy men really mean || When they speak of sin

God made all man in his image || Honey I'm I'm I'm no man || I'm what’s left when children go to war

Run from you, I'll run until I begin to understand || What holy men really mean when they speak of sand and sons and seams and symphonies and sweat and sex and sin

Why you cannot sleep for sighing || Why womanhood is more than crying || I'm stronger now than you have ever known

The cracks you made I fill with mortar || A broken pot can still hold water || Symphonies and sweat and sex mean nothing when you are obsessed || With sin and soil and strength and song and all the words that came out wrong and him

Little Miss Why So

Did you tell them about the time we met little miss || You'll love the way I tell it || And I'll yell it from the rooftops for you || He says

He says || You're going too fast || You'll burn up soon

I don't know how to reach you when you get like this || I've been waiting for you to come home || I don't know how to reach you when you get like this || I've been waiting for you to come home

Why won't you just tell them all to fuck off love and be mine

He says || Why so sad || I'm here and I'm alive || Stop making up death wishes and take my lifeline

Why won't you believe I love you if I'm not hurting you, he says || Can't you see that I'm enough for you but you don't want me to be || 'Cause that means you'll actually have to be content

Why so why so sad || Stop asking why I'm sad just know it's enough to know I'm sad

New York Torch Song

But your blood does not bleed red no more || It's whiter than the sun burns, bright with every hum || From within this gaping wound of ours || A new us has begun. A new us has begun. A new us has begun

Tear me up and burn me up and rip me up and leave your || Hand on the wall as you go

Are you god or devil, ghost dishevelled || Childhood friend or drunken revel

I cannot find the words to keep you || I cannot find the words to keep you

Two Minutes

It's like all the wallpaper inside my heart || Is slowly slowly peeling off || And I'm showing || All the stains and things || They wrote on the wall before

These hands are growing cold ||They're running out of things to hold || Give me two damn minutes and I'll be fine

If I'm good will you come back || If I'm good will you come back || If I'm good will you come back || To us

Not Yet/Love Run

Sing me awake with a song about pirates || And I will try to harmonise || And sip the sunlight from your eyes || Oh sing me awake || With all the things we’ll do today || But instead we’ll build a den || Out of pillows and get drunk again

If my old mum could see me now || Oh how she’d howl she’d howl

Love run, love run || For all the things you’ve done || Run for all the things that drum || Run for all those pages thumbed

Love run, love run || For all the things we wished we’d done || Run from all you know that’s coming || Run to show that love’s worth running to

All that matters || Is that you're here ||All that matters

- - - - - - - - - -

The Rockrose and the Thistle

n/a sorry y’all

The Horror and the Wild

You are that space that’s in between every page, every chord and every screen || You are the driftwood and the rift, you’re the words that I promise I don’t mean

We’re drunk but drinking (sunk but sinking) || They thought us blind (we were just blinking)

Remember me I ask, remember me I sing || Give me back my heart you wingless thing

Think of all the horrors that I || Promised you I’d bring || I promise you, they’ll sing of every || Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child || Witness me, old man, I am the Wild

Wild Blue Yonder

So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes || Get a grip, we're grownups

Come and rip off my socks like you’re blasting the locks off of a bank vault. Halt! || This time we’re done for

Let’s hide under the covers || We don’t know what’s out there || Could be wolves || So hold me, lover, like you used to || So tight I’d bruise you || I’d bruise you, I’d bruise you too

Every stone you threw, I stood on to better see the view

Don't you ever wonder, what could have been? || All those wonders sit in wait for us, we tried

Every brick you hurled, I’ll use to build this world || This world, this world, this world

Welly Boots

And I love you, don’t you know || That I’ll be with you all along, as long as you are kind

And when you scream that it’s not fair || It’s like I’ve gone off to the coast || Left you behind just standing there || Pretending not to see your ghost || If only you could hear my voice || But you are screaming far too loud to hear me swear || Just because I left doesn’t mean that I’m not still there

'Cause you were always strong || When you were young, you’d kick things just to see if they would fall || They said ‘That girl, she’s wrong’ || But I’ll stick up for you, even though you haven’t got a clue, you haven't got a fucking clue

Farewell Wanderlust

He said ‘Hey darling hey, hey darling hey’ || I’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say

I promise you I’ll be better || I promise you I’ll try || But like rubbing wine stains into rugs it’s my curse || To try and make it right, but by trying make it worse

I promise you I’m not broken || I promise you there’s more || More to come, more to reach for, more to hurl at the door

Goodbye to all my darkness, there’s nothing here but light || Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night || This here is not make up, it’s a porcelain tomb || And this here is not singing, I’m just screaming in tune

Fair

It’s what my heart just yearns to say || In ways that can’t be said || It’s what my rotting bones will sing || When the rest of me is dead || It’s what’s engraved upon my heart || In letters deeply worn || Today I somehow understand the reason I was born

She laughs as though she’s not heard the joke ten thousand times before || And he adores her, he watches her get dressed as though she’s hurtling through time

And she brushes her hand through his hair, he’s got so much fucking hair

And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay

"It’s not fair, it’s not fair how much I love you || It’s not fair, 'cause you make me laugh when I’m actually really fucking cross at you for something," || And he’ll say || "Oh how, oh how unreasonable || How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do || I spend my days so close to you 'cause if I’m standing here, maybe everyone will think I’m alright,"

'Cause darling I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades

And calm throughout his melodrama, she will turn and say || "Dear heart, it’s me, it's me || You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not || 'Cause it’s not like I’ve never heard you fart and snore || And for some godforsaken reason || I’m still here, love, like I’ve always been before,"

Burying her head into his chest and clinging to the moment || "Where have you been?" she’ll whisper || "I’ve waited oh so long for you to come" || And as the stars above them hum and hear them || He’ll turn to her and say, "That’s what she said"

That Unwanted Animal

You try so loud to love me || I cannot seem to hear || ‘Be good to me,’ I whisper || And you say ‘What?’ || And I say ‘Nothing dear’

I’m the paper cut that kills you || I’m the priest that you ignored || I’m the touch you crave, I’m the plans that you made, but fuck all your plans I’m bored

And you rip my ribcage open || And devour what’s truly yours

'Cause if we join our hands in prayer enough || To God I imagine it all starts to sound like applause

Marbles

And I chipped my teeth on every joke you cracked

You stole the best years of my life || I’ll give them back

'Cause I will wait and hope || Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep || But a place for crows to rest their feet || And I will wait and hope || And rest my head at night content || Knowing where my marbles went

She sang, ‘Do you think I’m sexy?’ and oh god I really did

Oh, if one more guy calls me darling then I || Swear to you and to god I will murder them all

All the bastards applaud when I show that I’m flawed || You’re not flawed darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed

I’ve loved you, for a hundred years || Certainly fucking feels like it

The minute I met you, the colours of my life began to pour

And now, even though you’re mad and these memories won’t stay || That's okay || 'Cause then I get to meet you for the first time every single day

Battle Cries

Tell the truth to me, love, does my hair look as nice || As it did when you once tangled up in your eyes? || Look at me as you say this, don’t look at your phone

‘Cause these plates they smash like waves || And the wine stains hide the tears || But that breathing you hear, don't mistake it for sighs || Don’t you realise? They’re just battle cries, dear

And these lines aren’t wrinkles, dear heart || They’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art

And as I walk away, I know I’ve been through the wars || But that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it’s applause

This isn’t a break up, dear heart, it’s a season finale

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