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secret-smut-sideblog · 2 months

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Karlach x F! Tav

(Girl Talk part 3, can still be read alone)

18+ drowning, near death experience, hurt/comfort, temperature play, urgent sex, grinding, face sitting, oral (f!), fingering (f!), mild restraint, karlach being absolutely feral, love triangle situations uh-oh

After nearly freezing to death Tav needs Karlach near. Very near, it seems...

Part 1, Part 2

The sword coast was hit by a cold snap and the camp woke in surprise to frost on the air. Even the lake they were set up by freezing over.

Everyone gathered their warmest clothes and made a day of it. Gale excitedly planning soups for their dinner. Lae'zel rolling her eyes at the camp entirely, going back to grinding her whetstone.

It quickly became a game to throw increasingly larger objects onto the surface of the frozen lake to see what falls through first. There was even a bet underway.

Tav had stepped out, sneakily she thought, to throw a stone farther in. (She may have been part of the bet) Only to feel the rogues even colder fingers push her, sliding her out. Insufferable man.

"Astarion, don't." She turned and huffed at him, only getting a wider grin in return.

He had already tried, and failed, to get Karlach to throw for him as tribute. Seemed he had switched to more underhanded tactics.

"Oh come on, I've got a lot riding on this." He winked, pushing her one more time. Sliding surprisingly far.

"You bastard, I'm going to get y-" Was as far as she got before the world broke away underneath her.

All air pushed out of her lungs as she submerged. Shock tore through her body before the freezing cold. But when it reached her the pain was excruciating, striking her blind. Somehow white hot. Vaguely aware of her limbs fighting dumbly to get back to the surface.

Time stretched on endless as her lungs burned to near bursting, then flooded with ice water, a slow sort of peace beginning to blur her vision. Her kicking legs hushed by the enticing exhaustion.

Her mind slowed, winding down. Only one thought pulsing through.

What a silly way to die.

A pale hand plunged into her vision and caught her by the collar, yanking her slackening body up.

Suddenly the world was full of noise again. So many shouting voices.

"Karlach, hurry!" Astarion bellowed, pulling her to shore. Releasing her against the coarse sand, his hands shaking over her.

Shadowhearts determined face rushing into her vision, turning her on her side and beating hard into her back.

Suddenly aware that she was going to live, it was like her body remembered breath again. Great gurgling waves of water rushing cold from her, burning her throat raw.

When the adrenaline wore off she wanted to go back to that peace beneath the water. Freezing alive. Teeth chattering, body trembling like an earthquake only she was privy to.

Warmth only a memory, this bone numbing cold was all she knew now.

Astarion continued to hover over her, afraid to touch her with his always cooled hands. Searching her pallid face in frantic glances.

"Tav, I'm so sorry. Oh God's forgive me, please please keep breathing. Stay here please don't-" A tearful torrent of words poured out of him, only stopped by Karlach crashing down at Tav's side. Pulling her shirt open, the buttons flying everywhere.

Astarion looked at her in shock.

"Get her wet clothes off! Now, Astarion!"

Tav moaned in protest, being exposed to the elements further surely couldn't be the answer?

But she knew Karlach had survived the hells and back, literally. She knew what she was doing. She would trust her with her life. But Tav didn't have to like it.

Astarion wrestled briefly with her wet leathers stubborn on her thighs. Relented and took his dagger and sliced a clean line up the fabric, peeling it away.

Shadowheart running back to camp to get potions, nodding in confidence at Karlach.

"Hold on, love." Karlach encouraged in a knowingly pained voice and pulled her bare torso hard into her.

Immediately Tav needed to pull away, her body scorching unbelievable heat into her.

She pushed against Karlach's chest but she would not release. Moaning in pain.

"I know, I'm sorry soldier."

She was burning, her breath gone again. Thrashing weakly. "It's too much." She tried to say, but it just came out as garbled whines.

"Just a little longer. You're going to be okay, baby. Just hold on."

As they sat around the fire everyone came over to check on her frequently.

Or well, both of them.

Tav was wrapped tightly around Karlach, a blanket shrouded around them.

As soon as her body temp had come above frigid Karlach's heat had gone from unbearable to deeply needed. She couldn't get enough.

Draped in a spare shirt that Astarion had offered up sheepishly, in her underclothes and a pair of Wyll's warmest socks.

Though Tav was aware the modesty was needed she felt best where their bare skin touched. Pulling her endless heat into her greedy skin.

"Oh Fangs, stop hovering! She said she forgave you!" Karlach laughed good naturedly.

"I can't help but feel awful." He scoffed, pushing his hands on his lower back. "Only two nights in my bed and I've nearly killed her. And not even in the expected way."

"I'm right here, you know." She tried for annoyed but was as slow and contented as a housecat in the sun.

Is this how Astarion felt against her? No wonder he always pressed into her so thoroughly when he fed.

"Go on, she's in good hands tonight." Karlach encouraged, Tav nodding happily in agreement into her chest.

He sighed shortly. "Fine, but I will make this up to you darling."

Tav hummed in a vague agreement, nuzzling further into her living furnace. "G'night Star."

He paused, came forward and planted a quick kiss on the top of her head and walked away quickly. The tips of his ears burning pink.

"Well, I'll be damned..." Karlach chuckled, looking after him in blatant disbelief. "He's lucky we're the only ones left awake. Shadowheart would never let him live it down."

Karlach wrapped her arms loosely around Tav's waist, resting her head against her auburn hair in a happy sigh. "God's I missed this. Touching. I could stay here all night."

"I can't even imagine." Tav murmured, pulling closer. "This is heaven." She sighed.

Her legs wrapping around the small of her back. Her core now pushed flush into her heat.

Oh.

Tav blushed but couldn't bear to pull away.

"You feel better, love?" Karlach intoned, oblivious. Pulling her long hair secure over her shoulder.

"Mhm," Tav purred, the heat against her cunt making her slow and stupid. A creeping of wetness pooling.

"I'm so glad. You really scared us." Karlach tipped her face up to look at her, holding gently by her chin. "You're so precious to us, you know that? To me."

Tav stared up at her, dumbfounded by her tender words. Karlach's eyes pouring with adoration.

Without thought, Tav pushed up and slid her lips into her.

Karlach jolted in surprise, then leaned into her. Kissing back with a restrained desire.

The heat against her mouth was devine. Karlach's plush lips melding into hers. The tenderness of their touch giving way to hot desire. Tav pulling her waistband closer, moaning into her mouth. Karlach holding her by the nape of her neck, kissing hungrily. Both of their breathing strained.

"Bed. Now." Karlach moaned into her.

Tav nodded and was lifted under her thighs with a surprised squeak. She was not a small person, eyeline with most of their male companions. But Karlach lifted her like she was nothing.

If the desire wasn't already coiling in her pelvis, that would've done it.

Finally reaching her tent they were shrouded in soft light. Karlach kneeling back down hastily, Tav still wrapped around her waist. The air thrumming with need.

Tav crashed her mouth back into hers, grinding her hips into her torso. Gods the heat was so good.

Karlach's fire burned blue then, hoisting her up and gripping around her ass. Pulling her into her body in time to the pulse of Tav's hips.

Tav mewled into their kiss, the heat and friction incredible. "You feel so good." She moaned, pulling away to lean into her neck.

"Gods, soldier. The feelings mutual." Her talons digging into her ass. "How are you so soft?"

Tav giggled, kissing along her neck. Suckling down on the spot behind where her jaw began.

"Ah!" Karlach moaned, pulling her in harder.

Oh?

Tav licked hard little circles into that spot and felt Karlach shiver. Her chest sending out a pulse of heat.

Karlach pulled Astarion's shirt off of her, throwing it down and slid onto her back, holding Tav's hips still. Her face now straddled under her open thighs.

Tav stared down at her in surprise. Suddenly feeling exposed, embarrassed.

"Tav, please," Karlach moaned, the bright blue glow of her eyes intoxicating. "I need to lick your cunt."

Tav groaned, her words burning a hole of desire through her.

She released her thighs, lowering down onto her. Karlach gripped her hips, moaning happily. Tongue flat against her underclothes.

The fabric separating was driving her mad. The hot strokes of her tongue dampening the fabric, a tortuous teasing.

"Karlach, please," She moaned, anchoring her hands on hers as she lapped. Grinding her hips as much as she could, strong hands holding her in place.

She heard her huff in agreement, pulling the offending garment away with her teeth. The yank against her hips, the sound of tearing fabric.

Tav moaned loudly, clapped her hand embarrassed over her mouth. Oh Gods, did anyone hear?

She considered casting Silence but her concentration was nothing but a puddle now.

Her core now free the onslaught began. Karlach pulled her down hard, laving fast hungry stripes into her.

Tav buckled forward, biting back a string of moans, coming out as urgent squeaks. Her hips already quaking. Hells below she had never been taken this ferociously before.

The heat of her ravenous mouth radiated up through her whole pelvis, her lower half an inferno of pleasure.

The need that her tongue worked into her was vulgar. Suckling down hard on her clit then pushing hard into her center with her tongue.

She prayed that none of their campmates were still awake cause the sounds coming from them were already obscene, and if this continued, about to get worse.

"Oh gods, please, please," She begged as quiet as she could.

Her mouth clamped down around her clit, suckling in hard pulses. Hand coming up and thrusting two fingers up into her without warning.

Tav nearly shrieked, hands falling in front of her to brace her collapsing body. Her hips trying to find rhythm against the tornado beneath her in futility.

When she curled her long fingers Tav almost snapped. Barely biting back an indignant whine. It was too good, it wasn't fair.

Her fingers and mouth both punishing her was sending her to the edge. A world ending orgasm threatening.

In one last act of lucidity she grabbed Astarion's shirt and shoved it hard into her mouth. Barely enough time before she was screaming out her end.

The world shattered beneath her again. Unbearable pleasure thrashed through her. Beating her fist into the ground. Shuddering in deep release. Endless muffled curses pouring from her mouth. Torrential waves of perfect agony striking her blind. Near death a second time.

Karlach hummed her approval, scooping up her creamy spend like honey. Massaging her hips with strong fingers.

Pulling Tav's hips down to be above hers, she ground into her for a few urgent moments then threw her head back. Face crumpled in pleasure. Already incredibly close just from Tav's sounds and sensations. Her orgasm face so adorable.

Tav finally, blissfully, collapsed into her. Unlocking her jaw around the fabric in her mouth. The pale elf's smell still lingering. Sending a different thrill down her back.

As if reading her mind, Karlach spoke up in a panting voice. "Oh shit, aren't you with Fangs?"

"With? I don't think he thinks that highly of me." She laughed. "I'm pretty sure it's just sex to him."

"Well he's a damn fool if he thinks he can find better."

"Careful with the sweet words, unless you want me to drown in a different way."

"And what if I do?"

Tav pinched her side playfully. "Bad. Bad tielfing."

It made her head swim to have two lovers. Pushed the more pressing thoughts about complications into the back of her mind. That's a later-her problem.

"Can I stay the night? I don't think my legs work anymore." She laughed, pulling playfully at her useless limbs.

"Baby, you can stay forever."

Part 4

(Narrator Voice: It was not, after all, just sex to him...)

#Karlach coming to steal your GIRL #eating it like a souffle 😔🤌#also realized i messed up the order of karlach getting touch again but WHATEVER #karlach smut #karlach x tav #astarion x tav

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psychedelic-ink · 7 months

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𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 4.3k

chapter summary: new dynamics, new outlooks. the story comes to an end.

warnings: cock worship, oral (male receiving), ass play, anal sex, spit as lube, dirty talking

a/n: this is the last chapter of this series but there will be an epilogue coming very very soon. thank you to everyone who joined me on this journey and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it xx

Railhead - The end of a railroad line where trains can be loaded and unloaded, often in a remote location.

You’re proud, to say the least. Looking back at the train, your chest swells with indescribable emotion. The outside might look rusty and dusty—something Javier was adamant about so no one would want to come take a closer look—but the inside was where your efforts truly shined. Through the windows, you catch a glimpse of the plants you potted in old cans you cut into two and one semi-intact clay pot. A fence surrounds the train, booby-trapped just in case someone lurks nearby.

Javier comes out and stands next to you, he’s chewing on a long-stemmed dandelion. His signature aviators nestled above his head.

“We fucking did it. An actual living place,” his shoulders raise slightly, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. “I can’t believe we actually did it without killing each other.”

You roll your eyes and come to stand in front of him. His eyes drop to your lips, then smoothly travel back up to meet your gaze. You smile playfully as you quickly pluck the dandelion from his lips, closing the distance, you slant your lips together. As always, he’s hungry. He cups your waist and pulls you flush against his body, slipping his tongue between your wanting lips. You groan loudly, your stomach doing somersaults as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. Every part of you is humming with delight.

But then Javier suddenly parts, and you’re left aching.

“Hey—”

“I got a surprise for you.”

You blink before answering, “A surprise?”

“Si,” he chirps quickly, brown eyes shining. He holds your hand and pulls you towards the entrance of the train. “Follow me, querida. I’m sure you’re going to appreciate it.”

“Hmmm we’ll see.” Javier sits you on the tattered couch and disappears into the makeshift bedroom—your shared bedroom. “How did you even manage to get me something?” you call out. “We literally go everywhere together.”

“I have my ways.” then he adds. “It’s handmade.”

Handmade?

He appears from the narrow threshold, he’s holding a small box, “Here,” he says, placing it on your lap. “Maybe you’ll complain less thanks to this.”

“Charming as always.”

You carefully lift the lid, a pair of intricately crafted insoles catches your eye. Javier watches you intently, his full attention making your heart stutter. The insoles, are fashioned from what seems to be a combination of salvaged leather and repurposed fabric.

“I—Insoles?” you gasp, tears prick the corner of your eyes. You lift your gaze and your brows furrow as you meet his. “I don’t remember mentioning I had shitty insoles.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The edges are neatly stitched with a weathered thread, showcasing the craftsmanship that went into it. You notice the tiny details, like irregular patterns and faded hues, hint at a past life.

Javier grins, leaning in as you inspect your gift. "I found an old leather jacket and some sturdy fabric in one of the abandoned buildings. Thought it might make your life a bit comfier. And hopefully—it’ll make my ears hurt less."

“Don’t ruin the moment, Javi.”

“I don’t want you crying. I can’t handle you crying.”

“Aw, big scary Fedra soldier afraid of some happy tears?”

“Didn’t say I was afraid,” his lips touch your forehead, you lean into the heat of them as he takes a seat next to you. “I just don’t enjoy being the person who put them there.”

“You do know what happy means right?”

He waves a hand, “Tears are tears, perla. I’d rather see you smile and laugh.”

Looking back down, you run your fingers over the textured surface. It’s soft, resilient. The insoles seem to mold to the contours of your hands, promising a snug fit when placed inside your old boots. The scent of worn leather and a hint of dust lingers.

"Try them on," Javier urges, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. He nudges you slightly with his shoulder.

“Alright alright. Just give me a second.”

You slip the handmade insoles into your shoes, a surprisingly pleasant sensation envelops your feet. You sigh pleasantly and your eyelids flutter.

“That good, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Javier watches your reaction closely, "So, what do you think?"

"Handmade indeed," you muse, a soft smile breaking across your face. "You always find a way to make things special," quickly, you lean in, your kiss taking him by surprise. “Thank you, Javier.”

He holds you by the hip, hands gradually moving lower to your backside. A shudder runs up your spine, your breathing becoming short-paced.

“Say my name again.”

“Javier,” you repeat, a bit more breathily this time. He stands up, the sudden movement making your head spin. He’s not touching you anymore. Instead, he’s just staring at you, his eyes like charcoal.

“Again.”

“Javier.”

His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, he pushes you towards him, close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. You inhale sharply.

“Where do you want me to fuck you?” he asks. “The couch or the bed?”

“B—Bed,” you stutter. When he clicks his tongue with disapproval, you say, “I want you to fuck me on the bed, Javier.”

“That’s my good little troublemaker. My sweet thorn.” Before releasing you, he keeps you still, his fingers digging into your neck. “Before I fuck you,” he groans. “I want you to suck my cock, baby. I want you to get it nice and wet, want you to fucking worship it. Understood?”

You nod in a daze. Javier smiles, a bit of softness showing in his irises. His hand dropping from your neck, he kneads the plump flesh of your ass. “Then I’m going to worship this gorgeous ass. Does that sound fair to you?”

You swallow thickly, not sure what to say when your head is swimming in deep arousal.

“Yes,” you whimper. “That sounds fair.”

The way to the ‘bedroom’ is a blur of quick kisses and rapid stripping; some part of you doesn’t want to remove your boots, you want to continue to appreciate the insoles he made for you, but sadly, you end up kicking them off.

“Lay down,” you say, taking back some of the control. While Javier pulls down his pants, you suck the skin above his collarbone, tracing the bone underneath with your tongue. A soft whimper reverberates in his throat, dragging your lips up, you kiss his bobbing Adam’s apple. “I haven’t even begun worshipping your cock and you’re already a mess?” You palm his erection, grinning at the way it twitches in your palm. “Are you going to come as soon as I wrap my lips around you, Javier?”

He grunts and grips your wrist, “Don’t start a war you can’t finish.”

You know the words are meant to be a lighthearted tease, but they affect you more than you anticipate. You look down at his scar, almost ashamed at the cruel past that ended up binding you two together.

He must’ve felt it because he lifts your chin, forcing your gaze back to him, “We’re not in a battle anymore,” he reminds you. “There are no wars. And even if there were any, I have no intention of joining when I’m desperately in love with you.”

Love.

He’s in love?

With you?

“I want to witness the beauty the world still has to offer. . . with you.”

Your eyes go wide, your pulse skyrocketing in your veins. Your chest heaves. Love. A feeling so foreign that you thought you’d never be on the receiving end. Love. An emotion so complex that sometimes it felt you were the only one capable of it. Love. The emotion Javier feels for you.

Love. The emotion you feel for Javier.

You don’t say it—mostly because you’ll get choked up if you do—but you do kiss him with every bit of emotion you feel towards him. You breathe him in. Inhale him. You feel his lashes on your skin as he closes his eyes, feel the thud of his heart against your own chest.

Love.

What an amazing thing it was.

And a cruel thing you were only able to find after the world ended.

“Get on the bed,” you say, softer this time. Javier complies, the bed creaking in protest at his weight. You strip down completely. Your underwear and bra left on the floor. You want to be bare. You want to be safe. And you are safe, with him you’ll always be.

“I love this pretty cock,” you mutter, kissing the side. The muscle in Javier’s jaw tenses, his teeth coming together. You lick up to the tip and wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the ridge. Before he can get comfortable, you drag your lips back down, following the vein that throbs violently under your soft flesh, you take one of his testicles into your mouth. You suck on it slowly and release it, blowing a bit of air over the spit-slicked skin.

“Fuck,” he growls, hips jerking. “Fuck fuck fuck—That’s it baby, that’s it. . . Shit—”

Javier’s head falls back, his dark locks a mess above the white-ish pillowcase. You dip your tongue between the crease of them and flattening your tongue, you lick the underside of his cock. His breath comes in short, fast pants. You take him into your mouth, sucking him halfway until the tip touches the back of your throat. You feel your nipples tightening, your pussy soaked from pleasuring him. Javier cradles the back of your head for dear life, thrusting into your mouth with shallow thrusts. You let him. You’d let him ruin you, you’d let him tear you apart and stick you together again.

A series of moans and groans drop from his lips. Saliva trickles down his length, going down his thighs. Moaning around him, you grip the meat of his legs and push yourself down. He sinks into your throat desperately, his breath hitching when your throat convulses around him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pushing you off his cock. “I don’t want to come yet but your mouth is too damn tempting.” You look up to him with a grin, he reaches towards you, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “Next time I’ll fuck this pretty mouth so well you won’t be smiling about it.”

“I’ll hold you up to that, you know.”

“Good.”

Javier pulls the pillow under you while he guides you to all fours. Suddenly you’re feeling too exposed with your ass in the air. You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at the sheets. He flattens his palm above your spine, his hand moving all the way down, he stands on his knees right behind you, his cock wet and heavy above the swell of your ass.

“Just say the word and we’ll stop.”

“No, I. . . I want it, I’m just nervous because I’ve never actually. . .” you trail off, your cheeks flaring at the thought of speaking openly—which is hilarious when you think about it because this man has literally seen the worst of you. “I’ll tell you if I need to stop. Promise.”

Javier seems satisfied by your answer and playfully slaps your ass. You imagine him smiling, stoked to have you in a way that no one else has. He parts your cheeks, you hear the sound of his mouth as a string of saliva drips right onto your hole, Javier hums, and with a thumb, he smears it over. Your breath hitches. He hasn’t even done much, yet you’re already dizzy with the vicious way your heart beats in your chest.

Javier spits again, a pleasurable shudder crawls up your spine. Your nipples tighten. Goosebumps rising across your skin. He slowly pushes in a finger, he stops shortly after, examining the way your back tenses at the pressure. With his other hand, he caresses your spine. It’s soothing and you relax into his touch.

“Wish we had lube,” he murmurs. You hear the rustle of sheets as he moves. “But hopefully this’ll be enough to loosen you up, querida.”

His lips are nothing short of sin. You groan at the touch of his tongue, the velvet muscle swirling around you. He groans at your taste, pulls you closer by gripping your waist. You go willingly. Gathering spit in his mouth, he pushes, your body jolts as he wiggles his tongue inside.

His hand moves down to your clit, rubbing slow circles over the swollen nub. You feel your arousal growing, your body responding to his touch. You moan and squirm, unable to control yourself. It’s too much but also not enough all at the same time. He kisses where he’s been fucking you with his tongue and presses the same finger inside. This time it slides in with ease but he stops half-knuckle deep.

Your body tenses when he swipes over your clit again.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, mouth moving over the plump flesh of your ass.

"Amazing," you gasp, your body tingling with pleasure.

He moves his hand away from your clit and you whimper at the loss of his touch. But before you can protest, you feel him pulling out. Slightly turning, you see him licking his fingers, getting them wet. His hair is a mess, his beard thicker now that time has passed. Your heart swells and your lashes flutter. A beat later, your eyes meet. Javier makes a show up sucking his fingers, smiling around them.

“Are you enjoying the show?” he asks, pressing both fingers against your hole.

Instead of words, a choked-out sound drops from your lips. Your head falls back, your body arching as he pushes them deep.

"Relax, mi amor," he says, his voice gentle and reassuring. You wince at the stretch, but his spit makes it easier, and soon his fingers are sliding in and out of you, stretching you open.

Javier leans over you, his body covering yours. You feel his hard length against your back, and you know that he's just as turned on as you are. His fingers begin to move faster, scissoring and curling inside of you. He moans with you, precome dripping down your back and onto the sheets. Your body begs for more and more and more—

"Please," you gasp, meeting the thrust of his fingers. "I need you inside me, Javier."

“How can I ever say no when you beg so sweetly,” he rasps, chest heaving. “Mi dulce perla.”

He pulls his fingers out of you and you feel a sudden emptiness. But it's quickly replaced as he lines himself up with you and slowly begins to push into you. You gasp as he stretches you wide, he stops mid-thrust, waiting for you to adjust. Slack-jawed, you feel sweat beading at your temple. Javier finds your clit again, playing with it until you’re a soaking mess over his fingers, your body squeezing him tight. A loud groan trembles within his chest and he rocks forward, his cock filling you completely.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he says, voice hoarse. “I could go on like this all day long—until the day I die.”

You want to quip back at him, maybe mention that there’s no way he can go that long, but you lack the ability to form sentences. An elongated groan slips past your lips instead and you swear he smiles, without even looking you can sense the mischievous smile curling at his pretty, plush lips.

Javier starts thrusting into you, slowly at first and then building up speed. His hands caress your body, over your back, and down your hips. You can hear the sound of his lower abdomen slapping against your ass, along with both your moans filling the air. His cock hits all the right spots inside of you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as he hammers into you, the wet sounds growing and growing with every move.

You feel a sudden intensity building within you, rising higher and higher with each thrust of Javier’s hips. He lets out a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you harder. You can’t help but moan loudly You’re feeling overwhelmed but in the best way possible.

Javier leans down and whispers into your ear, “You look so fucking sexy like this, taking my cock in your ass. You enjoy it don’t you—my sweet filthy girl.”

His words, along with his cock pounding into your tight hole, send you over the edge and you come with a loud cry, your entire body trembling. Your clit throbs as your cunt squeezes around nothing, pulsing viciously as your orgasm is ripped away. You clench around him and Javier’s movements become erratic. Suddenly, he stills, his body tensing as he reaches his peak. You feel him release inside of you, filling you up as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging his orgasm. Your eyes roll and your lids flutter, your own release washing over you as you come undone with him. He stays buried inside, both of you panting and catching your breath, until he finally pulls out.

Javier collapses onto your back, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You both lie there for a few moments, basking in the aftermath. He eventually pulls out of you and you move to lay on your side, feeling his spent trickling down the back of your thighs, you face each other.

He strokes your cheek gently, looking into your eyes with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. “You were amazing, mi vida,” he says, still trying to catch his breath.

You smile back at him, “So were you,” you reply, running your fingers through his hair. “Though sadly, I don’t think we can do that again for a while. I’m going to be feeling it for days.”

Just as he opens his lips, a sudden chill settles over your sweat-slicked body and his eyes drop down to your naked body with worry. “Are you cold?”

“A bit,” you admit unwillingly. You slightly stir, attempting to reach for the blanket. “Winter is finally coming, huh?”

Javier leans in and kisses you softly, his lips moving against yours in a slow, loving dance. You feel a warmth spread through your body, then you feel it on the outside as he reaches down, grabbing the blanket for you.

“It is.”

“Is there a reason we’re outside in the middle of the night?” you grumble, hugging yourself, you follow Javier’s footsteps. “It’s fucking freezing.”

The crisp night clings to your skin, freezing everywhere it touches. You miss the heat of your shared bed, the heat of another body against yours. With narrowed eyes, you glare at the man who is not slowing his steps. Javier takes your hand into his own, forcing you to move faster. He’s been secretive ever since he woke you—and it was definitely not pleasurable to be waken up in the middle of the night, especially in this day and age.

“Javierrrrr,” you whine, throwing your head back. “It’s cold. . .”

“You’ll thank me, I promise.”

“Fine. I trust you,” you chew on your bottom lip and smile. “But mainly because you made me new insoles.”

He turns to you, eyes round and simply adorable, “Are they keeping you warm?”

“They are.”

The two of you continue your journey through the night, and as you walk, Javier's hand remains firmly clasped around yours. The crunch of leaves beneath your feet echoes in the quiet darkness, a lullaby that once again makes you wish you were in bed instead.

After what feels like an eternity, Javier leads you to a small clearing. Your eyes go wide when you notice the soft silver beams cascading onto the patch of ground underneath The air is still, and the world seems to hold its breath, the only sound being the faint rustle of leaves.

Your breath catches as you step into the open space, your hand slipping away from Javier’s. A field of flowers had bloomed in various shades, their slender stems standing proud. The delicate petals reflect the silvery light. They remind you of stars, their petals pointed instead of round like you’re accustomed to.

A gasp escapes your lips, and a radiant smile spreads across your face. Your head snaps to Javier, "What are these?" you ask.

Javier's gaze shifts from the flowers to you, and in that moment, the world fades away.

“I have no idea what they are,” he answers, finger moving over his bottom lip. “But they only bloom at night.”

Your heart swells, “They’re beautiful. Thank you”

He steps closer, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your cheek. "Don’t mention it,” he brushes your lips together, the warmth of his breath making your melt into the earth. “Besides, they’re pale compared to you.”

“No need to charm me further,” you grin. “You already have me.”

“Do I now?”

“You do.”

As you share a tender kiss, the first snowflake falls. Then another. The world quiets down, and as you pull away, you notice the first snowflakes gently falling around you. Breaking away you both look at each other, then up to the sky.

It's here – winter has finally arrived.

Surprisingly, despite the cold, you've never felt warmer. In that simple kiss and under the falling snow, there's a magic that makes everything feel just right.

The day was warm, the sun bright. Small petals flew further away from the green grass, colorful flowers moving left and right with the soft caress of the wind. The grass tickled your bare ankles. You felt lucky to have found some regular shoes. If not you would have to wear your boots that made your feet feel like it was in a sauna. The lovely weather felt like a joke. It wasn’t the reality you lived in, just a mirage of the life before—though even then, it wasn’t quite perfect was it?

Your grip tightened around the straps of your bag. If you listened close enough you could hear the clatter of all the guns you were meant to smuggle in. The FEDRA was cruel in Kansas City. It was like the boogeyman stories but real.

You took a deep breath, your eyes scanning your surroundings one last time. It was like a spitting image of a Van Gogh painting. The world was still alive. It wasn’t infected, it didn’t know about the monsters that lurked on the surface.

Turning around, you continued to walk uphill, your chest starting to ache from both the heat and the constant walking.

Then you saw him.

A FEDRA soldier.

Your eyes momentarily went wide. He wasn’t looking at you, He was fidgeting, constantly looking around as if he was waiting for someone. Worry made a home in your gut. You didn’t think you had the strength in you to fight anyone off today. You just wanted to help the people and get rid of the weight of the guns.

The vest he wore looked like it dug uncomfortably into his chest, his rifle slung over his back, and pistol snug on his hip. You wondered if he would use either one on you—

Your eyes locked on one another.

Your breath halts in your chest, your heart ramming angrily and fearfully against its boney cage.

He raised a sole eyebrow, eyes narrowing. He was assessing you, trying to see how much of a threat you were.

“Who are you?” he asked and pulled out a cigarette pack from his back pocket. “You’ll get hurt if you wander around much, hermosa.”

You swallowed, “I—I’m just walking by,” you paid careful attention to make your voice sound meek and frightened. You lifted both your hands in surrender. “Please don’t shoot.”

He lit his cigarette and made no move toward his weapons. You eyed him nervously. FEDRA was not to be trusted.

“That wasn’t my question.”

“I just want a place to stay for the night. I was hoping to take refuge here for the night and leave first thing in the morning.”

The soldier looked through his lashes and he shielded the tiny flame with his hand. When the cigarette finally came to life, he took a deep breath then looked up to the sky.

“I really want to trust you. You have a kind face,” he said, sounding tired. “But your bag is making me doubt you.”

You froze, “Please. You can trust me.”

“And that’s all everyone needs during the end of times isn’t it?” he asked, not really wanting an answer. “Someone they can trust.”

He lowered his gaze, looking back at you, he sighed. His gaze lingered on you for an uncomfortable long amount. Your feet were glued to the soil, heat blossoming all over your skin. He had a kind face too. In another life, you might’ve even fallen for eyes.

The soldier suddenly blinked as if hitten by electricity, something he saw bothered him and you worried he saw right through you. Saw that you were a firefly, that you were carrying a shit ton of weapons. But he didn’t say anything.

“Go.”

“Go?”

He looked away, “Go before I change my mind. I have someone I need to meet anyway.”

So he was waiting for someone. Briefly, you wonder but quickly shrug the thoughts away. You had a mission.

You mumbled a thanks as you walked past him, your arms brushing in the process. As you left, you tried not to think about the electricity that circulated you, about the brown eyes and the tired look in them—

You tried not to fall for the possibility of a happy ending. Tried not to look for him when the chaos ensued, when Kathleen took over.

You tried.

And you failed. Miserably.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña au #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #tlou crossover #the last of us fanfic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction

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crossdressingdeath · 6 months

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Lord Enver Gortash: Ah - a familiar face, and a fondly-remembered one indeed. How have you been, Karlach? Karlach: Very, very hot. Lord Enver Gortash: You're agitated. I'd keep an eye on that. My Steel Watch are sensitive to anything they perceive as a threat. Karlach: Very clever, fabricating people to do your fighting for you. But they won't be able to protect you forever, Gortash. Lord Enver Gortash: I never meant to harm you, dear, merely to help you realise your vast potential. Karlach: You sent me to the Hells. You let Zariel take my heart. As though any of it was yours to give away. Lord Enver Gortash: The greater good, Karlach. Something I wouldn't expect you to understand. Karlach: You feel no regret, do you. All right. How about fear then? Lord Enver Gortash: Oh, you do quite misunderstand. I've already made a deal with your companion. We need each other. Karlach: Do we now? Kyvir: Easy, Karlach; we won't make it far against the Steel Watch. Lord Enver Gortash: Listen to reason, for once in your life. I'm sorry you feel wronged about how things ended between us, but that was ten years ago. We must look to the future. Karlach: You have no future. Karlach: There will come a time, sooner than you think, when death comes knocking at your door. You'll swing that door open, and you'll cower before what you see, and you'll beg, 'Please, Karlach. Spare me.' Karlach: I can't wait.

The wild part of this is, I think Gortash actually means it when he says he never meant to harm Karlach. It was an immensely fucked up thing to do to her and I don't believe for a second he misses that as much as he's pretending to, but I fully agree with the post I've seen around suggesting that on at least some level Gortash was playing out his own trauma with Karlach in his place with the expectation that she'd come out the other side stronger like he did (also immensely fucked up like he did, but hey! Who's counting?) and actually did think he was doing her a favour. I mean, he definitely knew that it was a horrific thing to do to someone who trusted him for personal gain and he's an awful, awful person for it, but it is an interesting point of characterization to consider. Also I vaguely remember seeing someone talking about a dialogue path (maybe only if you're playing Karlach?) where Gortash says essentially "You knew what I was, why did you not see this coming?" and I didn't get that here but it's very fun. He's got a bit of a point, but also I can say without a second of doubt that if Karlach knew he was the type to sell her to a devil who'd replace her heart with an engine she would not have worked for him. He was absolutely hiding his worst attributes from her; she didn't see it coming because she didn't know what he was. God he's such a rat bastard of a man.

It also says so much about Karlach that even with the man she hates more than anyone else right here in front of her and even with him deliberately antagonizing her (you can't tell me that "Something I wouldn't expect you to understand" and "I've already made a deal with your companion, we need each other" and "Listen to reason, for once in your life" aren't Gortash deliberately antagonizing her like the rat bastard he is) she'll still stand down if you ask her to. She trusts the player character so much that she'll tolerate an alliance with her literal worst enemy out of faith that they have a plan! And with remarkably good grace under the circumstances. He absolutely deserves to die at her hands and deserves even more to beg for her to spare him and be left entirely at her mercy the same way she was left at his.

#bg3 #enver gortash #karlach #it is WILD how different it feels talking about gortash re karlach as opposed to re durge #the way different characters can respond to a character in such wildly different ways depending on their own experiences #really is so fun and fascinating to observe

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smok3r7 · 4 months

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Is Leaving Even An Option?

Joel x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Four: Relief

Series Masterlist & Main Masterlist - My Ao3

Summary: Your days have become one in the same, even with the terrifying reality of death right outside the walls of Jackson. You never thought you’d be in the situation you’ve been stuck in for seven years now, the daily abuse you endure has become an expectation. You take whatever your husband throws at you, literally and figuratively, because you’ve been trained to believe this is normal. But a new man, Joel, moves next door and happens to be friendly towards you, this causes your husband’s anger to worsen. Your mind starts a gruesome war with itself - can you leave him or do you stay until the inevitable happens?

Chapter Summary: The same night you meet Joel, Nate becomes aggressive and does something way out of the norm. This causes you to reach out for help to your new neighbor, Joel. How does asking for help change your life?

Word count: 4.5k

⚠️Warnings: fear of husband, running and hiding from him, mentions of rape (no description), mentions of beating, self-hatred

—

“Go away!” You scream as you sprint to the dark gray bedroom door and slam it behind you, locking it immediately. The jar of pickles you had is now shattered somewhere on the stairs from you dropping them when you heard Nate get up from his recliner to follow you.

“You bitch!” He slurs as he starts to pound the other side of the door with both hands. You back up to the bathroom connected to the room and slam the door shut, locking it too, then jump in the porcelain bathtub, lay on your side, and you start to cry, muffling it with the fabric of your sleeve. You can still hear him hitting the door and his now muffled voice, still yelling about something you can’t make out.

How did you end up here? How did you become so weak? Why don’t you stick up for yourself more?

The sound of the bedroom door breaking sends a terrifying chill through your cold body, and holy shit, you think to yourself, he’s gonna kill me. “C'mere you whore,” he hiccups now on the other side of the bathroom door and slowly knocks on it, then he drunkenly sings, “Ooh Mrs.Rossi, come out come out, wherever you are.”

Your mind is racing as he continues to slowly knock, taunting and playing with you, and you almost wish he would lay his hands on you instead of this mental torture he loved so goddamn much. You would rather take his hands over his words any day, because the wounds left on your skin can heal. His words, however, leave an imprint on your soul like a steaming hot brand on cattle - it’s there forever.

The knocking abruptly stops, you sit up with your knees in your chest as you wrap your arms around your bent legs, and you look towards the white door, seeing the shadow of his feet through the sliver between the floor and the door. “I said,” his tone changes to a serious one, “Come here, my dear Mrs.Rossi.” A beat goes by and you stay silent, even holding your breath, trying to make yourself disappear like a magician doing his rabbit in the hat trick.

A sense of desperation forms in your core and flows through your blood, you wish you could ask for help, but you’re inevitably fucked.

Still no noise has come from either of you, eyes zoned in for any kind of movement. You then watch how his shadow stumbles away from the door, and you finally let out that breath that’s been trapped in your lungs for what felt like hours. You don’t dare move out of the tub, because the smallest noise could bring him right back to torture you and, to be honest, you’re not sure if you’ll make it out of this beating.

Flipping your right wrist over to look at your watch - well, Rosa’s, one of her personal items you grabbed - and you put together that an hour has gone by with you in the bathroom, an hour since the last time you heard any sort of noise from Nate. He’s gotta be passed out by now, you think to yourself, trying to make yourself believe it, but you decide to wait another hour, just to be safe, because if he is sleeping, you can run over to Maria’s for the rest of the night and deal with Nate tomorrow when he’s sober.

While you wait and stare at the little black hands on your dainty silver watch to move to the nine and twelve, nine PM is all you need to anxiously wait for. You are in disbelief about how your life has come to this; you hiding in the bathtub in the bathroom you share with your husband, from your husband.

The overwhelming feeling of loneliness and self-hatred starts to slowly consume you from the inside out, because you used to be an expert about seeing through men and their evil twisted lies. However, for some irrational reason, you were and still kind of are, blind when it comes to Nate. Even though he hurts the hell out of you, in more ways than one, he knows exactly how to lasso you and pull you back into his warm arms.

It’s pretty infuriating and ironic how he is the reason for your pain and yet, he’s the one who helps to make you feel better, for the small time being. Shit, it’s honestly pathetic that you keep allowing it to happen, there’s absolutely no reason why you should still be married to him; you don’t have kids, you’re not dependent on him anymore, and lastly, Maria and Tommy told you that they would let you stay with them until there was a home available.

Tommy was actually the one who pulled you aside not too long after Maria put the pieces together last year and he had gotten extremely emotional when he said, “I put Nate on patrol with Daniel. I’m so sorry for all that you’ve been dealing with by yourself, I am disgusted with myself for not having noticed. I want you to know my loyalty stays with you, a million times over. Please don’t hesitate to come to me or Maria for help, okay, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t believe that Tommy, who had been Nate’s right hand man since the beginning of Jackson, had written Nate off entirely and favored you in this matter. It gave you some sense of hope for something good to happen, but in the end, you’re still here a year later, in the same situation, but now you hold your own a little better.

The sudden urge to pee hits you and brings you back down to earth. Fuck, you glance away from the silver faucet you were staring at, and as you flip your wrist again, your eyes widen as you notice the hand's location, ten fifty-three PM stares back at you like a hawk eyeing its prey.

Please please, you repeat in your head as you carefully put your hands on either side of the edge of the tub and push yourself on your feet, and both your knees pop, echoing through the silent, tiled bathroom. You curse to yourself as you step onto the white bath rug, praying that he doesn't hear you. All you have to do is unlock the door, open it quietly, and get downstairs then sprint out the front door. Should be easy, right?

You tiptoe to the door and unlock it, wrapping your shaky hand around the cold knob, taking a deep breather for a moment to spark a bit of confidence in yourself to sneak past him, wherever he is. Your heart is beating rapidly, enough where you think it might leap out of your chest, your stomach doing flips, making you jittery.

With your hand still on the knob, you slowly turn it with your free hand on the door itself to keep it quiet. The pleading in your head is still there as you silently and slowly push the white door open. Before you fully open the only thing keeping you alive, the first thing your eyes notice is the gray door that leads to the hallway from your bedroom, and the bottom half of it has been kicked in.

Seeing this makes you swallow heavily - this has never happened before so you really don’t know what’s in store for you. You quietly push the door just a little bit more and as you step out onto the navy plush carpet, you turn your head to the left and you’re greeted with Nate eyes wide open, his tall statue-like figure sitting on the edge of the king size mattress you share.

You’re frozen in your tracks. Both your hands drop to your side, your breathing starts to become erratic, your chest heaving up and down, and sweat beads start to form on your skin. No fucking way, you panic, how is he still up?

“There she is.”

—

Hold on, hold on! You hear Ellie on the other side of the oak door. You’re back standing on the cream porch you had been on hours earlier, but instead of being here to show them the new home, you’re now there for any source of help.

The door swings open, “Who the he-“ Ellie starts but as soon as she sees you standing opposite to her, she stops. All you’re dressed in is a black tank top, plaid sleep shorts, and a pair of gray socks that are soaked from the snow when you walked over. You stay silent as you watch Ellie’s eyes gaze at your bruised and broken body, you don’t doubt that she knows what went down.

“Fuck, um- come on in, please, please,” she rapidly tells you and welcomes you inside the home that is almost identical to yours, without that distinct gloomy, unsettling aurora floating around. It’s actually an incredibly welcoming feeling that wraps around you as soon as you step foot inside.

“Here,” Ellie runs over to the closet across the room and grabs a smaller blanket out of it, “wrap this around you, go sit down, and I’ll go grab Joel.” Still not having said anything, you reach your arm out to take the blanket she has offered and you nod your head.

Your body is on autopilot as you drag your frozen wet feet across the hardwood floor to the open living room and plop your heavy feeling body on the tan colored couch, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and bringing your knees to your chest, curling into your comfort position.

Joel. Joel. Joel. He’s all you desperately crave at this moment, and even though you don’t know a thing about this man, you still desire him and his comforting atmosphere. You’re so out of it that you don’t even hear Ellie run upstairs or the noise of Joel’s heavy footsteps sprinting down the steps to quickly aid you.

Suddenly the shape of Joel’s body is in front of you, then he shrinks down to sit on the wooden table, his gaze now meeting yours, and you watch as his beautiful eyes are full of concern, darting all over your meek body, making you tighten your arms more.

“You’re staying here for a little bit, sugar,” Joel states, trying to keep his anger from taking over from seeing you like this. Hearing him say that with such ease and honest concern causes you to finally let go of all the tears and anger you’ve been holding onto for all these years.

“Than- Yo- I-” you sob between words, trying to say anything but you simply can’t make anything out. Shh, Joel hops off the table and sits down on the cushion next to yours, softly grabs your trembling body and pulls you to sit in his lap as he cradles you like a newborn baby.

You’re violently weeping into his chest as he slowly rocks and shushes you. The way he holds you in his safe arms makes you feel more loved than ever before.

You’re not sure how much time has gone by but you have stopped sobbing, though tears continue to roll down your cheek, your face still. “You don’t have to tell me now,” Joel’s voice makes your body vibrate as he speaks, “But I wanna know what happened.”

The way his voice sounds, you can tell he is aggravated but upset by seeing you hurt. You’ve been staring at his chest, the way his dark blue T-shirt clings to his body, you’ve memorized the pattern of his breaths and yours matched with his. But now that he’s asked and with such clarity, you figure that you have to tell him. It’s the least you could possibly do right now with him and Ellie being nothing but helpful.

Slowly, you lift your face to look at him and you notice that he’s already gazing down at you with the same whiskey eyes that make you swoon just by looking. The shame you’ve been experiencing flies away in a second just by seeing how much he truly cares. It’s not like Nate’s face when you initially met him, no, this is different.

“Okay,” your voice hoarse from the yelling and crying, you sit up still in his lap, “um, so-” You’re trying to find the right words to really showcase what happened to you tonight. “I got home and he was waiting for me, he’d drunk the rest of the bottle and started to chase me upstairs. I locked myself in the bathroom for, like, three hours, and you’d think he’d be passed the fuck out right?”

You’re starting to become loud and hysterical, your hands are now animated as you talk with them because you have so much to try to get out, but you can’t really communicate it all. Joel is just listening and watching how worked up you’re getting, his arms still latched around your body but it’s not like a possessive hold, more of a let me take care of you kind of grasp.

“Well, apparently I was wrong, because as I walk out the bathroom, I am immediately met with Nate just staring at me sitting on the bed. And I just freeze, like a fucking deer in headlights. Dumbass. If I woulda ran I wouldn’t be bruised to hell, no black eye, no hair ripped out.” You wait for a beat before you finish your story, “And I wouldn’t have been raped either.” The last part comes out in a defeated sigh, but you never shy away from his eye contact.

He’s stunned into silence, his eyes glossy, a tear breaking away from his eye and rolling onto his cheek, one that slides down and gets lost in his messy beard. You bring your hand to his lined face and wipe away the stain from the tear, and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the early morning before anyone else is awake in Jackson.

—

It’s been about six months since you ran over to the safety of Joel’s house, and for all intents and purposes, you’ve been living there since. The only times you go back to your shell of a home is when Nate is out on patrol, but you don’t even stay there, you only grab a couple necessities like clothes and toiletries. Nate really believes that you’re staying with Maria and Tommy - he has no clue that you’re only a couple of yards away from him and you’re gonna keep it that way for a little while longer.

Ellie now has come to help you at the stables alongside the three sisters, who gracefully accepted Ellie into the group, and you couldn’t be more at peace about it. Joel has been by your side whenever he can, but not in the sense of trying to keep an eye on you. It’s more for your safety and the fact that you told him that you feel safe and loved when he’s around.

You’ve finally been able to live peacefully. You haven’t had to deal with any Nate drama, no new physical or emotional pain, and you haven’t had to walk on eggshells anymore. Truly, you feel more secure than ever in the last two decades, and it’s all because of Joel.

“I think Tommy and Maria are coming over for dinner tonight,” Ellie tells you as she continues to brush her horse, Shimmer. You smile over to her, “what do you think they’re gonna make?” She takes a second to really think about her answer, she suddenly stops brushing and excitedly goes, “I think Tommy is making his famous chili. Joel had brought up to me that it was his absolute favorite meal, well, whenever Tommy cooked.”

“That sounds delicious,” you laugh as you finish the last of the hay so Jinny can grab it and put it with the others. “Oh my god you have no idea!” Andrea yells from outside the barn, you turn your body and give her a confused face. “Wait, so you’ve had it but I never have?” You question playfully putting your hand on your hip and popping it out.

The girls chuckle at your stance and they start to talk about how they had to beg Maria for him to make it, since the ingredients can be hard to come by a lot of the time. Somehow the three sisters got him to make it a couple years ago and they say he hasn’t made it since then, so they also believe that he’s making it tonight.

“Alright ladies, I’ll believe you. However, if you’re all wrong,” you take a second to think about what playful punishment to give them, a little smirk grows, “you all have to switch jobs for a week.”

The four girls all groan in unison, fine, but Ellie is quick to say, “that won’t be happening.” She winks at you and you chuckle as you shake your head. These girls have your whole heart.

—

“Let’s go, old lady! I’m starving,” Ellie drags out the last sentence as you lock up the barn for the night, the rest of the day went smoothly. “Girl, if you don’t wait a fuckin second-” you banter back while laughing. You turn around finally and you see Ellie making a snowball that she fires at you, and hits you right in the thigh.

You slowly lift your head with a sharp grin, “Oh, you’re so in for it now!” She has the biggest smile, from ear to ear, as you bend down to grab a clump of dense snow you hear her yell, “You gotta catch me first!”

You laugh, oh, just wait, because little does she know that you’re actually quick on your feet. It’s how you survived so long alone before Jackson, when you had no choice but to be quick, especially considering you never stayed in one place for too long.

After making a ball out of the cold white snow, you pick your head up and scan for Ellie. You spot her running down Main Street just past the Tipsy Bison, and you knew you could catch up to her in a second but you have another idea. There’s a shortcut to your neighborhood behind the grocery store next to the stables, so you decide to take that path and you’ll meet her just after Maria and Tommy’s house.

You take off towards the snow covered concrete path with the singular snowball in one hand and your set of keys in the other. The cold breeze hits your face with a stinging sensation, but right now you really don’t care, you’re actually having fun and there will be no consequences to you simply enjoying yourself. So you ignore the aching of your feet, the coldness of your face, and the stiffness of your knees all because you can finally do what you please.

You’re just about to Spruce St. and you see Ellie walking past the secret pathway and you smirk, perfect. You stop your moving feet and wind your arm back as you whip the ball of snow at her figure, she’s too busy looking behind her to even notice you’re only about fifteen feet away from her. The snowball hits her directly on her shoulder and she quickly turns her head in your direction, “How the fuck?”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You wink as you walk up to her and put your arm around her shoulder, you both start to laugh as you make your way to the beautiful navy blue house for the night.

—

“Knock, knock!” You hear Maria come in, followed by Tommy and his greeting. You’re currently upstairs finishing up your hair, just something simple to keep it out of your face. “I’ll be right down!” You yell, putting in the small golden hoops that you still have from Rosa, and you smile as you look at yourself in the full length mirror on the backside of your bedroom door. Joel told you that there was a guest bedroom that you could stay in until everything worked itself out, and he didn’t care or mind how long that took.

You stare at your reflection with awe, the light blue jeans hug your curves perfectly, and the green flannel Joel gifted you hangs open so your black T-shirt fits your upper body comfortably with a little bit of cleavage. It’s nothing crazy, but you look like yourself again. The woman you were before Nate - shit, before the apocalypse even, even the weight you had lost because of him is now coming back, and damn, you look astonishing.

As you take one more full look at yourself, and it hits you that you’re not covered in bruises or blood, a small gloss covers your eyes but you quickly wave it away. No, not tonight, it’s a good night, you repeat. Because it truly is; you’re actually happy and not playing it up for visitors. This is real, your emotions are raw and real.

“Old lady, c’mon!” Ellie yells from the bottom of the steps, and you yell back to her as you take one last look at yourself. Hell yeah, you mumble with a nod to yourself, putting your fingers on the silver handle, shaking off whatever jitters you have, and pull the door open. The sound of people talking fills your ears as you enter the hallway, closing the door behind you, the stairs are lit by the lanterns hanging on the wall.

This feels like an actual home.

As you reach the hardwood floor at the bottom of the steps you're met by Joel’s figure, about five feet away from you, stopping your feet to gaze at him. He looks beautiful, his hair is wet from the shower but combed back, and you’re taken back when you notice his shirt - it’s the same green one that he gave you.

You raise your hand to point at his chest, making you now only inches away from touching him, your other hand now on your hip, “Miller, are you trying to copy my style?”

“Darlin’, I invented this style,” he chuckles at you with such admiration in his eyes, now stepping closer, letting your hand palm his chest. Yet again, it feels like you two are the only ones in the world, the only two souls left alone just dancing around each other like flames in a fire.

The sound of Tommy clearing his throat shakes the two of you out of the trance, your hand still on Joel’s chest as you turn your head towards the kitchen and you see Tommy with a smirk on his face as he says, “Dinner’s ready.”

“Be right there!” Both you and Joel chirp at the same time, causing both of you to flip your faces back to one another and you both just start to laugh, so much that the top of your head falls into his chest and his lips lay a gentle kiss on your head.

“Ladies first,” he mumbles into your hair as he moves his hand to guide you towards the kitchen. You smile, lift your head back up to meet his gaze, and all you see is pure love. You want so badly to kiss him and feel that passion that you desperately miss, but you don’t because you still have this weird loyalty to Nate, all because you’re still married.

Some part of you won’t allow the happiness you know you’d receive and deserve from being with Joel, because even though your husband is an absolute monster, marriage still has meaning to you. Marriage isn’t just something you cheat on - your mom instilled this in you after Roy because she never wanted you to end up like her.

“Okay,” you say with a cheesy smile. You feel drunk off of him, off the smell of his sweat mixed with body wash, and his looks have you feeling butterflies erupt from your belly again. Your feet start to mindlessly walk away from him towards the sound of people having fun towards the kitchen, and he’s planted in the same spot as he eyes you up and down as you walk past Tommy, giving him a smile.

As you pass Tommy, you’re met with Maria at the stove stirring what you can only imagine is, indeed, Tommy’s famous chili. Ellie mutters it at the same time you think it, and you turn your head to see her sitting at the dining room table with a shit eating grin on her face.

“I told youuuu,” she sings to you as you walk over to sit next to her at the wooden table. You give a glance to her and she sticks her tongue out at you, which you reflect back to her with a laugh. Ellie starts to laugh with you as Maria brings the big pot to the table and sets it on top of a heat resistant mat, the strong smell of delicious chili fills your nose as Maria sets across from you.

By now, Tommy and Joel have walked in the dining room and sat down in the wooden chairs, Joel at the head of the table next to you, and Tommy sitting next to Maria across from Ellie. You couldn’t feel more at home than you do right now, this just feels like it’s meant to be, like all what you have been through is worth it since you’re here now.

“Dig in, sugar,” Joel softly says to you with a gentle smile, the warm feeling starting to grow in your belly again just from his words, and you grin as you grab the ladle and fill your bowl. “Thank you, Tommy,” you state as you take a spoonful of chili in your mouth. This has got to be the best meal you’ve had in god knows how many years.

He says a quick thank you as everyone else gets a bowl of the yummy chili, and you can’t help but feel insanely happy and relaxed at this new lifestyle you have. It truly is the most beautiful experience you’ve had in awhile, and you can’t believe that you have been actually happy.

The thought of Nate hasn’t popped in your head in weeks, and you couldn’t be anymore grateful about that.

Tags: @evyiione @southernbe @pedrosfanny @oscarissac2099

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #Is Leaving Even An Option #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #read warnings before reading #dark story

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concreteangel92 · 13 days

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See This One Shine

Andy Biersack x female reader

18+

WARNINGS: knife play, blood play (a little bit) dom/sub relationship, PiV

A/N: so this idea wouldn’t get out of my head, especially with all the new photoshoots that Andy has been releasing, he’ll be the death of me one day I swear 🥵

It’s my first time writing for Andy which is surprising as I’ve been a huge fan of BVB since the beginning, I’ve literally grown up with them haha

Obviously Andy is not married in this, I fully respect his relationship in real life, this is purely fiction!

Also respect if you catch where the title is from haha 👌🏻

Once again, this is a trigger warning for the knife play in particular, if anyone feels they will get triggered by that then please scroll on, you have been warned haha

“Is this what you wanted baby?”

You nodded quickly as your chest heaved up and down, your skin feeling the cold, sharp blade that Andy was slowly running down between your breasts.

This has all started from the new photoshoots that your boyfriend had been doing for the new era of the band, his Sweeney Todd era as it’s been dubbed. Andy always looked drop dead gorgeous in all of his photoshoots but this new look has stirred something within you. It was the cut throat razor, he looked so menacing and dangerous and seeing him with the razor for the first time had you aching.

You weren’t shy about letting your feelings be known, when he’d text you one of the photos that he was very proud of, you instantly text back ‘cut me 🥵🔪’

Now Andy at first thought it was a joke, but when he brought it home for the first time, the hungry look in your eyes couldn’t be denied. The razor, although a prop, was very real, not as sharp as it could be of course, but sharp enough that with the right pressure would slice through the skin very easily.

And now here you were, lying down on your shared bed in nothing but your black lace bra and underwear and Andy hovering over you with the blade between his fingers tracing your skin, the low light from your bedside lamp making it shine.

“I can’t hear you”

“Yes sir”

Andy hummed in response, his eyes following the blade as he gently traced it over your collarbone and up your neck, the edge pressing in that little bit more as he angled his hand to run it across like he was slitting your throat.

A audible gasp escaped your lips, you gripped the sheets beneath you while your thighs squeezed together to try and relieve some of the tension you felt building.

Andy moved the razor down and slipped it under the bra where the cups joined.

“Didn’t realise you were such a masochist baby”

He then proceeded to slice it with ease which caused you to moan softly as the fabric fell away, leaving your top half bare. Andy then very gently ran the tip of the blade around each nipple, his eyes never leaving his own movements.

You closed your eyes as you let all the sensations wash over you. You felt the razor trailing down your stomach, you opened your legs in anticipation of what you knew was coming.

“That’s my good girl”

Andy ran the razor with slightly more pressure down your thigh, the pain mixed in now more evident than before and was no doubt making the skin rise in its wake.

“F-fuck me”

“All in good time”

Andy turned the blade onto its side and ran it up your clothed cunt, no doubt soaked at this point. You let out a choked cry, you needed more, something that your boyfriend already knew.

He circled the tip of the razor around your clit carefully, your hips bucked up with need and Andy pressed his other hand onto your hip to push you back down with a deep chuckle.

“Easy baby, don’t want to cut you here”

You felt his fingers rub your skin lovingly, before he quickly sliced through the material of your underwear and watched it fall away.

You opened your eyes and glanced down.

“I liked that underwear set you know?”

His piercing blue eyes met yours and the corner of his lips raised up.

“I’ll buy you a new set”

You took in his appearance, his white shirt was nearly all the way unbuttoned, leaving his tattoos on display, his long hair was falling into his face and his trousers were clearly becoming extremely tight for him. Andy looked deliciously sinful.

“Open up for me baby”

You spread your legs wider as you heard his groan of approval.

“Now whatever you do, keep very still for me”

Using his fingers, Andy spreads your lips apart, turns the knife on its side again and you feel the cold metal drag upward, in and along your folds making your thighs twitch.

Andy brings it up and you can see it coated with your juices and you watched as he brought it to his lips and ran his tongue over the blade, your walls clutching on nothing at the sight.

“Delicious. You’re so wet and I’ve barely touched you yet”

His head tilted and his arrogant smirk was the last straw, you reached out for him.

“Andy please”

You sounded desperate, you were so ready for him, Andy lent down and kissed you while you undone the rest of his shirt, you just couldn’t wait anymore.

Putting the razor down, you helped Andy strip out of his clothes and watched as he settled back on the headboard

“Come here beautiful”

You crawled over to him and settled yourself over his lap, you lowered yourself down and felt him stretching you open. A loud groan escaped both of you as you finally sat down fully, next to no resistance being met due to his previous ministration’s.

Andy settled his hands on your hips while you placed yours on his chest, and you started to move, allowing Andy to guide your movements, watching his face contorting in pleasure. You started off at a slow pace but neither of you were in the mood to hold back for much longer.

Andy picked the forgotten razor back up and held it up against your throat carefully which made you move your hips faster, you needed more, so much more. You brought your hand up to cover his, moved it down and pressed it onto your chest, just enough to slice the skin open slightly.

“Babe what are you doing?”

You couldn’t form any words, the pain on your chest mixed with the heat in your core caused you to let out a guttural growl that would rival his and your head fell back, you don’t know what had possessed you but it sent shock waves through your body, you were so close at this point that you needed to finish and although Andy had been taken back by your actions, you could tell he was just as turned on as you.

You weren’t expecting Andy to lean forward and lick up the fresh wound of your chest, that act making you grip onto his hair, your hips faltered in their movements and your pussy was clenching him in an iron grip, you’ve never experimented with blood before but here you are.

You pulled on his hair and he brought his head up and you smashed your lips together and instantly tasted your blood on his tongue, both of your groans lost in each other mouths.

You pulled back “I’m so close”

You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, you just needed a little more, Andy snaked his hand down to your clit and started working it hard.

You let out choked out cry as you came undone and wrapped your arms around him while Andy gripped your hips and thrusted upwards hard a few times before his own orgasm followed with a loud groan and you both collapsed back onto the headboard as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

Once you’d got your breath back, you pulled back and gave him a soft kiss.

“I wasn’t expecting that”

Andy was smiling and playing with your hair, he glanced down at the cut on your chest.

“Well clean that before bed babe ok? Don’t want it to get infected”

“Sorry if it was a bit much, I don’t know what came over me”

You giggled slightly and slowly pulled yourself off of him and cuddled up into his side.

“Don’t apologise, I said I wasn’t expecting it, not that it wasn’t insanely hot”

#andy biersack #andy black #andy bvb #black veil brides #Bvb #Andy Biersack fanfiction #Andy Biersack x reader

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the-cult-of-riley · 1 month

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Sleeping With Ghosts (Act Two: Chapter Three)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N:

Man, I’ve been feeling like shit lmao

My b12 anaemia has been kicking my ass and I’m not even joking. I went to see Greg Puciato on the 10th and I legit spent the whole first two starting bands throwing up and almost passing out, with zero alcohol consumed. I thought I was gonna die but refused to go home ‘cause no way was I missing Greg loooool I pushed through and it was the best show I’ve ever been to, even if I felt on the verge of death. I also picked up some germs ‘cause now I feel like I’ve got the flu and I haven't even got over whatever I was dealing with before.

I don’t know why my brain has been really struggling with this chapter. I have so much of Act Two mapped out but it's mostly the action and the fun and the angsty bits and the making up and all that. The little in-between parts to get there haven't been written and my brain really wasn't playing ball. Sorry for any typos, It's currently 2 am here and I've literally just finished writing and quickly editing it lol

In the name of our Lord and Saviour, Simon Riley, I beseech you to strike the writer curse from my weary body and allow me to continue feeding my hungry children with Ghostly content.

The last wisps of sleep were still clinging onto Charlotte’s consciousness when she felt her bed dip and the covers rustle and move. Her eyes blinked open slowly, her brain trying to comprehend the shit show that had become her life. For a brief moment, she thought she was back home, dying under the weight of grief and raising a child alone. But then she realised this wasn't her bed, these weren’t her bedroom walls and her husband wasn't dead. She still felt that grief though, it wouldn't shake even if he was breathing and now she had a heaping scoop of betrayal to go along with it. She rolled over to the source of what woke her up to see Beth beside her, giving her a cheeky smile.

“Good morning, mummy,” she murmured tiredly, scooting closer and wrapping herself around Charlotte like a snake. It made all of her tension seep from her body, even if only for a moment. She loved these moments in the morning with her daughter. They made her feel like she was glued back together briefly.

“Good morning, pickle,” she smiled softly and Beth made a disgruntled noise like she always did at the nickname. They didn't need words as they cuddled together as they both woke up and Charlotte tried to will some backbone to leave the room at some point.

They’d need breakfast and she hoped Simon wouldn't be in the mess hall. She wasn't sure how Beth was supposed to bond with him when she wanted him nowhere near her. She knew she needed to suck it up for Beth’s sake and Simon was lucky she’d do anything for their daughter.

“Did you have a good sleep?” Charlotte asked, her fingers stroking through Beth’s unruly curls. The girl shot her a bright smile with a nod.

“I did. I’m excited to go and see daddy at breakfast! Can we go yet?” she asked eagerly and Charlotte tried to stop her stomach from tying itself in knots.

“Let's get dressed then,” she flashed her best fake smile and Beth giggled, rushing to get out of bed as Lottie sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Can we match, mummy?” Beth asked hopefully and Charlotte nodded.

“You pick what you want us to wear,” she instructed, watching with a fond smile as Beth rummaged around in the bag, pulling some things out and leaving them strewn about the place.

She picked out two matching hoodies that had Placebo across the chest. Hers was real merch but they didn't make kids stuff so she’d wound up using fabric paint to replicate it on a kids hoodie. She picked out black leggings to match too. They both got dressed in their matching attire, boots to finish off the look and Charlotte really didn't feel like making much of an effort with her hair with how she was feeling so she threw it up into a high pony. Naturally, Beth gave her a look and was only placated once she also had a high ponytail that looked nothing like Charlotte with her blonde curls.

If she thought she felt nauseous on the way to the mess hall, it was nothing compared to how she felt when they strolled in, hand in hand. It felt like everyone’s eyes turned to the two civilians on base and she knew she wasn't imagining how they all murmured to each other. Maybe word travelled fast.

One pair of eyes in particular felt like they burned her right down to her bones and she glanced over to the table housing the 141, seeing those deep brown hues staring right at her. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her and she looked away quickly, ushering Beth to the food. She grabbed two trays, feeling guilty that Beth was babbling about something but she was struggling to pay attention. She scooped some scrambled eggs onto the plates and some bacon. She was just scooping some beans too when someone approached.

“Well then, who’s this wee pretty lass?”

Charlotte turned to see Johnny standing there, a smile that she could only compare to sunshine on a rainy day as he peered down at Beth. she clung to Mr Snuffles tightly, blinking up at the man.

“I’m Beth,” she answered sweetly and Charlotte watched as Johnny crouched to be closer to her height.

“What a beautiful name,” he grinned and Beth beamed at him.

“What's your name?” she asked curiously.

“I’m Johnny but people call me Soap,” he answered and Beth giggled.

“That's a silly name!”

Johnny snorted with a nod.

“Aye, it is, but it's mine and I love it. We need to get you a call sign, aye?” he asked and Beth toddled closer to him, eyes wide as she nodded.

“Yes please, Mr Soap,” she clapped her hands excitedly and Charlotte didn't miss how she was drawing attention.

“Alright., let’s think…” Johnny rubbed his chin, making a show of thinking and it made Beth giggle again.

“Do ye have a nickname already? We could use that,” he suggested and Beth pulled a face.

“Mummy calls me pickle sometimes,” she muttered gloomily and Johnny chuckled.

“Nah, we don't want a name like pickle, do we?” he asked her, pulling the same face she had and it made her laugh.

“What kinda things do ye like?” he asked her thoughtfully and Beth’s face lit up.

“I like Halloween and spooky things. Ghosts, skellingtons and pumpkins. I like monsters,” she made fake claws with her hands and growled at him.

Being the good sport he was, Johnny yelped dramatically, falling on his ass and Charlotte couldn't help the grin on her face as she watched the pair, Beth laughing brightly at him. She was quickly warming up to the man.

“I have the perfect name for ye, and it kinda goes with yer daddy’s” he announced, looking pleased with himself and Beth was practically bouncing on the spot.

“What is it?” she asked eagerly.

“Spook,” he declared with a flourish and Beth’s eyes were almost sparkling.

“I love it!” she beamed, dancing about a little, the bunny in her hands getting thrown about in the process.

“Awesome!” Johnny grinned, holding his hand up to her and she slapped him a high-five harder than he expected if his wince was anything to go by.

He stood back up, a slight groan leaving his lips as he back popped.

“Now that's settled, let's eat, aye?” he smiled, turning to look at Charlotte as he gave her a warm grin that had her smiling back at him.

“Alright?” he asked her and she nodded, feeling somewhat better by his soothing presence. He seemed happy with her answer, clapping her gently on the back before he swiped Beth’s tray so Charlotte didn't have to carry two.

Beth was happily chatting to him as the three of them made their way over to the table. Price was at the head of the table to the right, the bench along the back housing a man she didn't know with a cap on his head and a calming smile aimed at her. She smiled back nervously and looked away, her hands tightening over the tray. There was an empty spot beside the man and Johnny plonked into it, not before putting Beth's tray on the other side of the bench which was empty. On the head of the table to the left was Simon, whose eyes were glued to her. Beth’s tray was placed beside him and that left the spot between Beth and Price open for her.

She noticed two of the men who were there at her outburst the day before weren't here but she was glad. It was bad enough being around just this small group, especially because she’d spilled her heart out in front of them. Worst of all was Simon though and the only respite she got from his burning gaze was when Beth climbed up on the bench, having to sit on her knees to reach her tray as she beamed a blinding grin at him and his eyes now went to his daughter.

“Good morning, daddy,” she smiled up at him. Charlotte wished to tear her eyes away and yet she couldn't, seeing his dark eyes peering out of his mask at Beth, all soft and gooey. It was the same look she had herself when her daughter was being sweet.

“Mornin’, lovie,” he murmured quietly and Charlotte swallowed thickly.

“So! Introductions since this spooky bastard won’t be makin’ ‘em,” Johnny started with a smirk and Beth gasped, slapping one hand over her mouth, the other pointing accusingly at the Scot, making him go silent.

“You swore!” she exclaimed and the whole table went quiet as they watched her. Charlotte bit her lip to stifle a laugh as Johnny blinked at her for a moment before he let out a laugh.

“Aye, I did, I’m sorry, lass,” he murmured with a grin and Beth raised a sassy brow at him.

“You owe me a pound now,” she held her hand out expectantly and Charlotte watched the Scot look to the girl's hand before back at her face.

“I owe ye?” he asked slowly and Beth nodded.

“We have a swear jar and every time mummy swears she puts a pound in and then I get to spend it,” she flashed her teeth in a toothy grin and Johnny’s lips quirked upwards as he glanced to Charlotte and then back to Beth.

“Well, I don’t have a quid on me right now, but I’ll owe ye one, aye?” he asked and Beth sighed with a nod.

“So, ye already know the Captain and this creepy fu- fool…” he trailed off after curtly cutting his words so he didn't owe even more money to the mini Riley. He slapped Simon on the shoulder and Lottie watched carefully as his dark eyes slid to Johnny, mild amusement and annoyance shining behind them. But when those eyes slid back to her, she felt like a lightning bolt struck her right in the chest and she looked away quickly, picking at her eggs.

“This one is Kyle Garrick, also known as Gaz,” Johnny finished as he gestured to the only man on the table she hadn’t met yet.

“Nice to meet you Mr Gaz,” Beth smiled sweetly at him. The man smiled, a soft look on his face.

“Nice to meet you too,” he replied politely, his eyes turning to Charlotte then.

“You too, Mrs Riley,” he smiled and her hand tightened around her fork.

“Charlotte’s fine,” she muttered tensely and she could practically feel Simon’s eyes burning into her.

“And all you fuc- idiots know Charlotte and Beth, now also known as Spook,” Johnny gestured to the little girl with a flourish and she grinned, making a spooky noise while she wiggled her fingers.

“You gave her a callsign?” Simon asked and Charlotte couldn't decipher his tone. It was so detached, different to what she was used to with him.

“Course I did. She loves spooky shi- stuff, so it felt right. You like it, aye, Spook?” he asked her and she giggled, nodding her head.

“I love it,” she answered happily before she turned her deep brown eyes to her father.

“Do you like it, daddy?” she asked, her eyes hopeful and wide as she stared at him. He just watched her for a moment and Lottie was starting to think he wouldn't answer her.

“I do. Suits you,” he answered, reaching out slowly and stroking her head softly. Her smile widened as she leaned into his touch and Charlotte felt a burning in her chest.

“We need a call sign for Charlotte then,” Gaz commented, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Grim,” Simon answered before anyone could suggest a thing. Had he shot her in the chest? It felt like it. So many memories flooded her system, memories of a happier time, of a time where he hadn’t betrayed her trust, hadn’t lied to her, hadn’t hurt her.

“Aye, that's good. Ghost, Spook and Grim, a proper family,” Johnny snorted gleefully

“What can I say? I like a good theme,” Simon answered dryly but she heard the amusement and it sparked an annoyance in her.

Five years he’d been gone, five years he’d fucked off, only to live in their old base. Was he here every day eating with his friends and cracking jokes like she wasn't at home raising a child alone and drowning in grief? Did he really care that little that he hadn't even checked in with her once? Didn't have anyone look into where she might be, what she was doing? Would he have even bothered to come back if he knew Beth existed? Would he have come back for her? Did he like it here without her?

She pushed her tray away from her, a vile feeling creeping into her chest like an infection that was spewing puss. She didn't want to be here.

“Mummy, your breakfast,” Beth murmured, looking up at her carefully.

“I’m not hungry anymore, sweetie,” she replied but her voice felt far away, floating out of reach.

It felt like her eyes weren't seeing, she couldn't get out of her own head. She suddenly felt warm leather on her cheek and with a start, she realised Simon had reached over Beth to cup her cheek, turning her to look at him with pure worry in his gaze. She jerked her head from his grasp like he’d burned her and his arm dropped back down. She didn't miss the pure anguish in his eyes. She needed to get out of here, she couldn't break down in front of everyone, not in front of Beth.

“How about I give ye that tour we were talkin’ about?” Johnny asked her with a grin but there was something on his face that touched her, soothed her spiralling. He’d never offered her a tour, he was giving her an out and in that moment, she knew Johnny meant his promise from the night before.

“Sounds good,” she forced a smile and Beth grasped her arm.

“Mummy… could I stay here with daddy?” she asked with a smile and Lottie hated the pain that lanced through her chest.

It shouldn't hurt her that she wanted to spend time with her dad, she’d only just met him and they had a lot of lost time to make up for. Yet she couldn't help the burning jealousy that hit her out of nowhere. He hadn't been here, it wasn't fair that he got to covet her and she got left in the dust.

“That's fine,” she answered, trying her best to keep herself in check until she left. She stood up quickly, not looking at anyone and not really bothering to think about manners to the other men at the table as she rushed out of the mess hall and outside.

Johnny was right behind her, hand on her back as he led her to a bench. She crumbled onto it, resting her face in her hands. She didn't want to cry, not again. She was sick of it. She wished she could just pretend it didn't bother her what he did. That she could just be happy he was here, happy he was alive. She couldn't shake the feeling of abandonment though. That the one person who swore he’d never do that to her had done it without care. It hurt so much that she felt she might die.

“It's alright, love,” Johnny murmured sympathetically as he rubbed her back.

“I just… he’s been here this whole time while I’ve been suffering ,” she lamented, feeling like her sanity was slipping through her fingers.

“I know… I know, lass. I wish I had the words to make this all better. Ye didn’t deserve to go through all this,” he sighed sadly, his hand still rubbing her back. Silence settled over them for a moment as she fought the deep urge to cry, sitting there staring out at nothing as she wondered how it all came to this.

“Ye wanna blow some shit up?” Johnny asked out of the blue. Her eyes darted to him, wondering if he actually meant what he said and he gave her a roguish grin that told her he did indeed mean it.

“Okay,” she nodded with a sniffle. Johnny’s grin widened, a gleeful laugh leaving his lips as he jumped from the bench, grabbing her hand and yanking her with him. He all but dragged her through the base to get to the demolitions section where training was held.

Ghost sat stiffly, watching as Charlotte rushed from the mess hall, his best mate in tow like a little puppy at her feet. He couldn’t get that haunted look she had out of his fucking head. She looked so lost, adrift at sea with no anchor to tether her to the world. He’d been that anchor once and now he was the cause of her spiralling. He’d wanted to be her anchor again and his touch had brought her back, but it wasn't the reaction he was hoping for.

Having her pull away from him like that was more painful than the gunshot wound to his collarbone last year. The fleeting contact he’d had with her filled his dead heart up with so much warmth before it was snuffed out like it was never there to begin with and he cursed himself for wearing his fucking gloves. He just wanted to be okay with her again, wanted her to accept his touch, wanted to fall into her arms and have her make everything okay again.

It wasn't okay though, it hadn't been for a while and this was his doing. He wasn't sure he’d ever be able to fix it and having Johnny be the one glued to her side was like salt in his wounds. He knew it was a good thing, Johnny would try and get her back on his side like the good best mate he was, yet it still stung. Hurt like a bitch when he saw her embracing Johnny while she refused his touch so viciously. How easy she’d fallen into Johnny’s arms, how desperate for comfort she was. It hurt. It really fucking hurt .

He was brought out of his depressing musings by a tug on his hoodie and he glanced down, remembering the little girl sat next to him. Her brown eyes were blinking up at him carefully, tilting her head like she was sizing him up. She was so beautiful.

“Daddy?” she asked him, her voice soft and sweet, wrapping him up like a warm blanket.

“Yeah, lovie?” he asked quietly. It was like no one else existed in that moment but her. She nibbled her lower lip as she shifted where she sat for a moment, looking deep in thought.

“Can we do something?” She gave him a hopeful smile and despite looking so much like him, he saw Lottie in that smile and he wasn't sure if that eased the ache in his heart or made it worse.

“What do you wanna do?” he asked, unsure what four year olds liked to do and even if that was possible on a military base. Her eyes seemed to light up as she flashed him a bright grin.

“I know!” she shuffled off her seat, moving to stand as she grabbed his hand and tugged on it impatiently. He stood, seeming to tower over her and she refused to let go of his hand as she started pulling him along. He couldn't hear Gaz’s witty remark but he heard Price chuckle at them both as he left.

He allowed her to lead him until they got outside and she kept pulling him until they moved over to the patch of grass that ran along the gates near the car park. She let go of his hand and he watched curiously as she plonked herself down without a care. She looked up at him expectantly and his lips tugged up slightly as he moved to sit on the grass with her.

“Daisies are really pretty,” she murmured happily as she started picking them. He’d never really noticed them before but now she’d drawn attention to them, he noticed they were scattered all over the grass.

He had no idea what to say, couldn't remember how to act around kids, it had been far too long. Part of his brain tried to remember how he’d interacted with Joseph but that was far too painful and he shoved it away quickly. He wanted to bond with her but he really had no clue how, so he just watched her.

She picked a bunch of daisies, her tongue poking out of her mouth a little in pure concentration as she started fiddling with them. He couldn't really tell what she was doing with them but after a few moments, she grinned triumphantly and put a flower crown on her head.

“What do you think, daddy?” she asked him sweetly and he melted into a puddle looking at her. The sun shone down on her and he wondered for a moment if he was dead and she was in fact an angel.

“Perfect, love,” he murmured, his throat feeling tight and uncomfortable and he had to clear his throat to ease the sensation.

Her smile widened even more and his chest felt like it was expanding. She picked a bunch more and he was helpless, could do little else but watch this little part of himself as she busied herself with the flowers. He still hadn’t fully wrapped his head around the fact he was a father now.

He’d been so ready for it back then, when he’d left for the last time. He’d been so excited to get back to Lottie and start a family. He’d been excited to watch the bump grow, to watch Charlotte glow as she carried their baby, looked forward to the scans and all the milestones. Looked forward to holding a tiny bundle of his own, much like he had when Joseph was born.

He didn't have any of that though and it was all his own fault. He’d missed out on the most precious moments of Beth’s life because he was a coward. He’d never be able to get those moments back, he couldn't undo what he’d done. Knowing all the things he’d missed made him wish he had died back in Mexico. It would be a relief from feeling what he was currently feeling.

He flinched with a blink when something touched him, rousing him from his thoughts. Beth was standing in front of him now, a cheeky grin on her face as she put a crown of his own on his head over his balaclava. He felt a rush of warmth flowing through him and he really didn't give a toss who saw him wearing it. She’d made him something and he wished he could keep it forever, wished it wouldn’t wilt away.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he smiled softly even though she couldn't see it. It was like she could sense it or maybe she was perceptive for her age and picked up on the scrunching of his eyes because she beamed at him, such a radiant smile he wanted to burn to a crisp from it.

“You're welcome,” she smiled, kissing his cheek over his mask before she moved away.

He was overwhelmed, too many thoughts and feelings running rampant in him and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. An explosion across base felt like it shook the floor and Beth jumped up, a worried look on her face that had a protective streak surge through him. He steadied her with his hands and she settled closer to him, plopping into his lap as if she’d done it a million times before.

“What was that?” she asked with big eyes, looking towards where the noise came from.

“It's just the demo practice. Its where they learn about bombs and things,” he explained, hoping to ease her worries. It seemed to work as she relaxed into him more.

“So, it's not bad?” she asked him, blinking her pretty eyes at him.

“It's not bad. You don't have to worry, lovie, I won’t let anythin’ bad happen to you,” he meant those words wholeheartedly. He’d burn the entire world down with everyone on it to keep her safe.

Another explosion happened and this time Beth seemed fine, pressed into his chest as she sat on his knee. While he wasn't worried as the noises were coming from the demo area, he was sure there weren't any classes or training today. It wasn't uncommon for Johnny to go and play around a bit, the only one to get away with it as the demolitions expert and being one of the 141. Was Lottie with him? Was it them making all this racket?

His eyes drifted back to Beth then, happily sitting on him with their matching flower crowns. He wanted to know more about her, all the things he’d already know if he’d have been around.

“You wanna play a game?” he asked her and she grinned up at him.

“What kinda game?” she asked him excitedly.

“We ask each other questions to find out more about each other,” he suggested and there was a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes.

“I already know everything about you. Mummy told me,” she beamed, sounding more than proud of herself. He felt like someone just gutted him, sliced him right open and let his insides splat onto the floor. He pushed it away though and tried to ignore it. Of course Lottie told her everything.

“How about you tell me stuff about you, then?” he asked her hopefully and she clapped her hands excitedly.

“My full name is Elizabeth Anne Riley,” she started. No, he hadn't been gutted before, he was now though. The pain that ricocheted through him tore through skin, muscle and bone. He bit down on his lower lip hard behind his mask, drawing blood. The sensation grounded him though as he nodded, trying not to look too upset.

“That's a lovely name,” he muttered, voice strained and choked. Her smile turned softer then, blinking up at him and she leaned into him more.

“It's a special name. Mummy told me I was named after special people,” she murmured. His chest felt so tight that he felt like he couldn't breathe. Without thinking about it, a hand came to stroke her hair and he found the feeling soothing to him, easing that ravaging ache in his chest.

“I’m four but I’m five in two weeks,” she held her hand out, wiggling her fingers at him to demonstrate her point and he felt his lips tug up a little at her excitement.

“My favourite colour is…” she trailed off, tilting her head with that thoughtful look on her face again. “Black. I like black ‘cause it's all spooky,” she flashed him a toothy grin and he melted once again.

“Mummy’s sketty is my favourite meal but I also love when she does eggy bread on my birthday,” she beamed up at him and he swallowed thickly, still stroking her hair as he nodded.

“They’re my favourites too,” he replied hoarsely and she gave him a cheeky look.

“I know,” she giggled and he made him smile.

Without warning, she hopped off his lap, his hand suddenly cold now it was no longer stroking her hair but she flopped down next to him, laying down and making her crown fall a little onto the grass.

“Lay down,” little one was bossy and he knew he had no choice so he obeyed. He held onto his flower crown as he shuffled around before laying on his back beside her. He moved his hand back to his side even though he was sure the crown had slipped off into the grass anyway,

“Do you like clouds, daddy?” she asked him softly. He turned his head to look at her and she was laying there, staring at the sky.

“Never really thought about it,” he replied honestly. She turned to look at him then, scrunching her face up with the most judgmental look he’d ever been given.

“Look at the clouds. Sometimes they look like things,” she murmured.

“I’ve seen that sometimes. Once I saw a cloud that looked like a co-... clock,” he muttered, shaking his head as he changed his words. Wouldn’t bode well for him as his first day being a dad coming out with that.

He still remembered that day though, in the sweltering heat of Al Mazra in the middle of a mission. Wasn’t every day you see a cloud shaped like a fucking dick in the sky and he’d have thought he was hallucinating due to the heat if it wasn’t for Johnny seeing it too. The Scot had said it was the best thing he’d ever witnessed in his entire life. When Soap had got Price to look, the shape had changed and the old man was sure they were off their rockers.

“Look at that one, it kinda looks like a bird doing this,” she pointed at a big cloud before she started flapping her arms around weirdly and he shook his head fondly before he looked back up at the clouds. He just watched them go by for a moment, enjoying the peace he felt. Something he wasn't sure he’d felt in a long while.

“That one kinda looks like a bum,” he murmured, pointing to a cloud.

“Daddy!” Beth burst out laughing, smacking his arm and he found himself laughing. Actually genuinely laughing and not the half arsed chuckled Johnny would draw out of him with a bad joke. It was an odd feeling to laugh like that, he was sure he hadn't done it since before he’d left for that mission, the one that ruined his life. It made him feel lighter.

“You can’t tell me it doesn't,” he huffed playfully and she laughed again.

“... It does, but you're still silly,” she snorted, making his whole body light up.

She was so precious and he wasn't sure just how to handle it. He was sad things with Charlotte were so bad and he didn't want to think about how the hell he was supposed to fix that mess, but being able to spend time with Beth and bond with her meant the world to him. He could focus on Beth for now, one thing at a time. He’d build his family back up from the ground, brick by brick. He’d done it before, back with his brother and his mum and he could do it again. It’d be painful and probably take a while but he wouldn't waver, wouldn't give up. Not when he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. He couldn't give that up for anything.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley

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grapefacegrfa · 1 year

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I literally couldn't do anything until I typed this stuff out because I didn't wanna forget the idea hngjfkdkeldjskbfja

"Pretty Boy"

Scenario: Leo reacting to his lover gently cupping his cheek and calling him "pretty boy" after a rough day.

⚠ There is some angst in this⚠

☾ As confident as this boy may appear, he genuinely can't believe that you wanted to be with him of all people. He isn't super smart like Donnie, he's not big and strong like Raph, or emotionally mature like Mikey. Sure, he makes jokes about how it's obvious why he'd be your favorite, but he seriously can't figure out why you chose him. Not that he would ever actually tell you any of this of course.

☾ Yet after a particularly rough day, it just sorta came out. Specifically the evening that him and his brothers came back home from the Maze of Death and you had heard of the story about how the four of them almost died because Leo wanted a picture on the Wall of Champions.

☾ You weren't necessarily upset with Leo, but you did decide to confront him about him. He played the situation off as a joke at first, but after after asking him what the big deal was about the photo, he snapped.

☾ "It's not just about some stupid picture! It's about the fact that I'm useless to my family and especially my brothers! Yeah, I get that I'm annoying or whatever, but it's like I'm just so expendable! Donnie's the brainy one, Raph's the smash-y guy, and Mikey's the one who's good with feelings and stuff. I'm nothing without them, and I don't bring anything to the table. I just-" A quiet hiccup escaped from Leo's lips as hot tears streamed down his face. "I just wish I was worth something."

☾ After waiting patiently for Leo to finish with his rant, you slowly stepped forward to move closer to him and place a hand on the side of his face. One of your fingers caressed the fabric of his mask and you looked up at Leo, as if silently asking permission to take off his mask.

☾ Leo seemed to notice what you were doing and reached his hands behind his head to untie his mask, sliding it off of his face. Your hand gently cupped his cheek and your thumb slowly traced along the red crescent on the side of his face.

☾ "Leo, I can assure you no one thinks that way of you. You're far from useless to anybody, but I'm also not trying to criticize you for feeling the way you do. It's okay to feel that way, but I hope you know that you're extremely important to all of us. You're always there for the people you care about and always try your best to cheer them up even in their darkest moments. You always do whatever you can to protect the people close to you and you're such an amazing strategist. I know it's easy to go down into a negative spiral like that, but you're worth so much to all of us. Especially me." You place your other hand on his other cheek, looking up at the red eared slider with a soft smile. "And I'm so happy that you're here, pretty boy."

☾ Leo had to take a few moments to process what you had just said. Mainly because of the extreme lack of validation he's recieved in his life, but also because someone as sweet as you was saying such kind things to him. He didn't feel as though he deserved it, and he definitely doesn't believe that he deserves you, but shortly after your words finally sink in, the warmest and dorkiest smile graced the turtle's face. Even though tears were still falling down his face, he placed one of his hands over yours and his eyes closed as he leaned into your palm.

☾ Leo still doesn't understand why exactly you put up with him or treat him so kindly, but whatever the reason, he was just happy to know that he meant something to at least someone.

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt leo #rise of the tmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #grapeface written works

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someuncreativity · 10 months

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Fuck it here’s part two of

My Ranking of How Quickly I’d Let These Fictional Men Rearrange My Organs

Still BotW/TotK edition because look at these men

You get the point, it’s gonna be hella NSFW because read the title

Oh but also this time I’m formatting the prompts like Stanzi Potenza’s “Animated Men I Would Sell My Body To At a Discount Price, The Discount Being Free Because I Would Never Make These Fine Gentlemen Pay For a Whore Like Me” series on YouTube

Cuz why not

But also this is just me thirsting after the most atrocious and/or attractive men in the Zelda universe

6. Master Kogha

This man may not be a fine dining experience, but he’s definitely worth your time for a banana or two.

A solid six-out-of-ten, the only thing that rivals your hatred for his superhero alter ego is his dad bod that puts furry artists on Twitter to shame.

They say that everything’s better with friends, and this man has a couple that would sweeten the deal, and as it happens, red spandex is absolutely up my alley.

A dork playing glorified dress-up doesn’t sound fun until his devotion to a demon king threatens an entire nation, and I am 100% here for it.

5. Revali

Fun fact, my favorite bird to eat is chicken, partially because I’m basic, but also because I could see myself sinking my canines into that cock.

His aim is im-peck-able, pun intended and unashamed, and he’s certain to get a bullseye into my heart.

I know he’s an egomaniac, but in the deep, dark, crevices of my mind, I know he’s mentally ruined. It’s the lifelong trauma and the “I can fix him” for me.

I love Rito clothing, especially since this man’s version of is the sluttiest thing on earth. After looking at him, I’m certain I’m not getting cold anytime soon.

He could treat me like the scum of the earth and I’d still be on all fours polishing his arrow free of charge. He’s like if a Disney prince realized he was a Disney prince.

4. Daruk

The only Goron I’d let pound me like a quarry, this man has warmed my heart like the fiery maw of his hometown’s tourist trap.

I could write a fifty-page essay about how this man’s kindness makes My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic look like more of a joke than it already is.

I know what I’ve said about Gorons literally crushing me to death, but as long as his words of encouragement are the last thing I hear as he erupts inside of me like Death Mountain, that’s all that really matters.

That loincloth isn’t doing much in the way of covering up his Boulder Breaker, and for that, I thank the weak fabric for its service to our nation. On the plus side, it’s white, so if he ever walks in the rain, that cloth’s purpose in life will have been fulfilled.

The fact that he has a grandson makes him not just a DILF but a GILF. In my opinion, fathers age like wine, so this is a win-win for me.

Combined with his white beard which resembles a mane more than facial hair, he’s like Santa if Santa was somehow both more and less cuddly at the same time.

And I know he’s afraid of dogs, but personally, that’s fine. I’m more of a cat person anyway.

3. Teba

Take everything I said about Revali and multiply it by the “white hair equals sexy” principle, and you have the new Rito chief.

I didn’t think it was possible to find anyone edgier than the spirit inside of the Master Sword, but here we are.

It is taking every ounce of my soul not to say “I can fix him” because clearly, I can’t and he doesn’t want me to.

. I would let him cry his heart out after nearly losing everything near and dear to him. There’s no shame, sweetie.

His wings are long, and I know of a few things that are longer. Given that he has procreated, it’s clear that the hot springs aren’t the only things that’ll be hot and steamy after a night with him.

Speaking of which, he’s a loving parent and a loving husband, which makes him a DILF, and let me tell you, the second that word becomes an adjective, the snow isn’t the only white thing covering the Hebra mountains.

If he could fly me into the skies, I would watch the sunset with him in silence as we realized the real magic was inside us all along or something like that. Whatever makes him happy, and yes, if he asks for it, that includes me swallowing a few of his bird eggs.

2. Tauro

Finally, a himbo the people can rely on.

We love seeing strong, partially-head-empty men being strong, partially-head-empty men.

Only I’m pretty sure this himbo is actually smart.

Idk I haven’t played enough or focused enough in Kakariko to find out lol

This man is investigating the ring ruins but he forgot about the ring he he to put on my finger.

He is giving “I’m going to save the world” and we love that. If you don’t, I see why- I did just say I liked villains- but I’m a double-sided coin.

Speaking of coins, flip one: head or tails? Which part of me is going to need to be replaced by Rauru? I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t care.

I personally have some depths for him to explore, and let me tell you, it’s gonna be the cave feeling his gloom infiltrate every orifice instead, and the cave will thank him.

His hair is giving the Hot Topic version of Melanie Martinez, and let me tell you, if I wasn’t a Crybaby, this man would have turned me.

I just love that every single Hylian around is taller than Link. I also love, however, that this man also towers over them too. Honestly, that makes things even better for me personally.

As long as Miss Papaya over there doesn’t realize that Link isn’t half the hero her grandma made him out to be, we won’t have problems. No worries here, chief, just doing some Zonai excavating.

1. King Dorephan

It’s known that this man singlehandedly defeated a Guardian, but judging by his measurements, all of which make the Empire State Building look like a stack of building blocks, it’s not hard to see how.

The leader of the Zora, this man is guaranteed to make any traveler feel right at home- hopefully, between the two logs he calls legs and the other two which he uses for other less savory deeds.

Not that I would mind, he could stretch my throat out to a time when the community will stop complaining about how the company keeps retconning the story with one and turn me into a make seahorse during conception with the other and I’d still have room. I have no shame.

If his son is a ten, he would have still been a ten before inflation.

You have to love a rich man with anatomically-correct shark organs. Jaws was really just my wake-up call after all, but not really because I like my men to talk dirty.

All I ask for in life is for this DILF to stretch me like taffy and squash me like a grape. Once that is achieved, I don’t care what Ganon does to Hyrule- I found my own sacred realm, thank you very much.

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astheswarmitcalls · 2 days

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PART 4: THE BUSINESSWOMAN

This is the final part of my 4-part analysis of MCR5, the Masterpost for which can be found here. Link to previous part found at the bottom of the post. If there's something I missed, or you'd like to add your own spin/elaborate on something I brushed over, by all means I'd love to hear it!!

We fucking made it. This is my magnum opus. The apotheosis of my life’s work. This is what it is, what it’s all about. This is MCR5.

I alluded to the character of the Businesswoman a good 11,000 words ago during my deep dive of The Foundations of Decay. ‘She will always be the whore.’ Yeah, that’s her. I also omitted her when talking about FEMCR because I wanted to do it here. She is the only character to appear more than once on tour, aside from Cheerard. The latter appeared in two US shows, Nashville and LA, but the Businesswoman appears in 8 shows total across three countries. We also know it’s the same character apropos of Marina Toybina’s Instagram post, and her appearance evolves throughout. Strap yourselves in, we’re in for a ride.

AUCKLAND: FIX FAX FUCK YOU “But it’s not the end. It never ends. Because WAR never ends. Because war never ends. WAR!!!”

The first appearance of our lovely lady. As opposed to Cheerard and our Nurse, she’s a lot less cheery, which is what leads me to believe her story isn’t particularly sparkly or sweet. She screams a lot. The blazer and mid-thigh skirt are this nice grey, and due to the specific cut of the blazer, I believe this specific ensemble is utilised for this performance only. I believe the black tie stays consistent throughout the rest of her appearances. She has black heeled boots and black stockings.

I’ve seen a lot of people speculate that the ‘Vampire Mansion’ is where MCR5 is going to take place, and all these character Gerard is portraying on tour are residents of the mansion. With how little we know about MCR5, it’s possible, but I don’t believe this narrative to be as likely. It’d be so much fun, don’t get me wrong, but the fabric of each concept album has intrinsic ties to the psychology of the band at that point in time. Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge is a love letter to horror flicks, but also deals heavily with grief and loss since Gerard and Mikey had just lost their grandmother. The Black Parade is about death and moving on but has those personal undertones in the lyrics about addiction and mental illness that are pulled directly from the band’s experiences. Mikey Way talked about how the band’s stay in the Paramour Estate had exacerbated the issues he was facing, and that Gerard was looking into having him committed.

Two weeks after Mikey left, Ray and Gerard wrote Famous Last Words which of course fits into the storyline of The Black Parade, but also is a direct response to Mikey’s departure and the emotions Gerard was feeling at the time. This pattern of the albums pulling from the band’s experiences at that moment in time is a reason why I don’t think the Vampire Mansion MCR5 Theory is so credible.

Back to the Businesswoman. We know Gerard’s stance on war from the numerous on-stage rambles they have across the tour. The backdrop of the tour is quite literally a warzone, and there’s references to war and 9/11 in the lyrics of The Foundations of Decay. They spoke out about the war in Ukraine (the band was supposed to play a show there, but it was cancelled), and war is this tragic, persistent thing that never seems to end. 2022 and 2023 have been rife with it.

This character is surrounded by war, by terrorism and bloodshed. She’s bitter and angry, and she has every right to be. ‘Fix fax fuck you’ has this sharp tone to it that introduces this character incredibly well. We already have a gauge of this person, and her setting. The next outfits build upon that.

BRISBANE NIGHT 1: EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL “I will not wear a hat in this outfit! And so we move on, we move on, we move on to war! You know what’s in store? More fucking war!”

(Sidenote: The drawings on the speakers from Mikey’s kids are so endearing.)

The Businesswoman outfit appears a little more conservative here, but it’s our same favourite gal. She’s got sheer black stockings and heels with straps. Her skirt’s just below the knee tonight. She loses the jacket fairly early on in this show, as well as her tie; most photos are of the 1st photo where the outfit is stripped down significantly. I’ve found it incredibly difficult to find decent quality pictures of this show with the full outfit, I think Gerard just Does Not Enjoy Australian weather.

I’ve heard some claims that ‘Everything Under Control’ was what came over the speakers at the World Trade Centre during 9/11, but I can’t find a source for this. At this point, there may be a little bit of plausibility with the Businesswoman Theory. Similar outfits two nights in a row? That’s new but maybe they’ve got a limited wardrobe. They are halfway across the world anyways. ‘Everything Under Control’ seems a little vague, you could tie to just about anything, if it isn’t a reference to 9/11.

Would also to mention here, Gerard Way arrived in New Zealand with a Gucci shopping bag. I’ve done my research and can’t pinpoint exactly what part of the Businesswoman outfit he may have shopped for, but my guess is the sunglasses, shoes or coat. She’s a luxury girl. She doesn’t deserve any less. (EDIT: I found it, but I’m going to leave this here as I add more.)

BRISBANE NIGHT 2: HERE COMES THE AIRPLANE “I have two kinds of perfume on this tour; one smells very calming, like the last day of summer, the other smells like a hospital. It gives me anxiety. Do you know which one I’m wearin’ tonight?”

If you had any inhibitions about the 9/11 ties to the Businesswoman, this should do it. ‘Here comes the airplane’ implies she’s some sort of accountant or secretary working at the World Trade Centre when the attacks occur. A 9/11 narrative for MCR5 would be macabre no doubt, but no more than the content of the preexisting albums. Skylines and Turnstiles was written in direct response to the attacks, and the band itself was formed in the wake of the events. I don’t think it’s coincidence either that they played that song at this show.

MCR5 as the 9/11 album would be this beautiful dichotomy of old and new; building on the birth of the band itself but speaking to the rebirth and healing that is so integral to the psychology of their return. The Foundations of Decay is all about moving on from your past, and that’s exactly what this band is doing.

The blazer is darker than the one at the previous two, and the skirt is shorter again. They added a grey trench coat and these elbow-length black leather gloves that are remarkably cunty. I can’t tell if these are the same sunglasses to the Auckland show, or if they just have a few pairs and recycle them through the tour. Ms. Businesswoman has a briefcase, likely the same one as the night before, and I can’t find a good picture of it so please just take my word for it. She’s wearing the same shoes as the previous night.

I actually solved the Gerard Gucci Mystery 8 hours ago (I’ve been working on this for about 10 now). The skirt he wears at this show is shorter than the rest and tweed. I found a Gucci skirt that’s $1975AUD and looks incredibly similar if not exact. If it isn’t this skirt, then it might be the perfume. If it’s not the perfume I’m totally lost.

Fun Fact: This was the show my barber was at. Amy you are so fucking cool.

MELBOURNE NIGHT 1: TERROR “See you in church! I’ll see you in hell! Punish! Punish!... Gorgeous! Gorgeous fucking violence!”

The order of the Australian shows stumped me for a few minutes. Auckland to Brisbane is all fine and dandy, but then they jump down to Melbourne and back up to Sydney instead of travelling down the east coast. Maybe Sydney just has a nicer international airport.

At first glace I thought this was the same blazer/skirt combo as the Auckland show, but the pockets are different. It’s also not dark enough to be the suit from Brisbane2. This is incredibly pedantic, but the Brisbane1 skirt goes past the knees, and this cut sits just above; being able to differentiate the skirt lengths is vital because otherwise it’s fairly difficult to tell what show each photo is from. The shoes are the same pair from the Brisbane shows, and the gloves make yet another appearance. The trench coat also makes a return, and tonight she’s wielding a black umbrella with a dog head on the handle. I’m not looking into it too much. She’s a dog person.

The ‘Terror’ written on the drumhead could refer to the feelings of many at the time of the September 11th attacks. Our Businesswoman character is amid the action, she’s terrified. Also terror as a root word for terrorism, which coincides with war. My immediate thought was ‘Tower of Terror,’ which is a Disney park attraction, but also,,, tower,,,, twin towers.

MELBOURNE NIGHT 2: BARK BARK BARK

This is the first time in 4 shows Gerard has worn a normal outfit, and the last night of him wearing this. As for the drumhead message, we have a few references to dogs, like Gerard howling before House of Wolves at Firefly Festival, but it’s not something to read into. That’s sort of hilarious thing for me to say, considering I wrote about 400 words on the colour green, but I digress.

SYDNEY NIGHT 1: UNKILLABLE

She’s back! She’s bloody! She’s never looked better!

Based on the style and skirt length, I’m confident this is the same outfit as the Melbourne outfit, now with the boots from the Auckland show and no stockings. Most photos of this show will have her with her jacket still on. Our favourite professional woman in back, now with a pretty nasty head wound. Her preceding appearances as Very Much Alive and the incriminating drumhead messages imply that she has perished in the 9/11 attacks. ‘Unkillable’ could reference how this character is a survivor, her inability to die and her curse to continue to walk the earth even after her death. I did make mention of zombies earlier, and how they could be a metaphor for MCR5’s themes of rebirth. As we’ll see, Ms. Businesswoman refuses to be laid to rest. More likely, it’s a reference to Frank Iero’s accident in Sydney that nearly took his life. Copy and paste everything I just said about My Chem weaving their own experiences into the narrative of the concept albums.

SYDNEY NIGHT 2: UNKILLABLES

Our girl is still dead!

This looks to be the same as the Brisbane1 outfit, now with the Auckland boots. She’s bloodied up, and now she’s got these gnarly whiteout contacts that make her look Extra Dead. Like the Brisbane1 show, she loses the jacket at some point, and I think the blood gets sweated off in some of the photos.

Not much to add about the drumhead, could be in reference to the full band; they’ve overcome quite a lot and continue to make art alongside their rocky pasts.

TOKYO: GEMINI

Our girl is extra bloody tonight!

This looks to be the same as the Melbourne outfit with the same heels. Gerard took them off at some point in the show and was walking around barefoot. I learnt this trying to find pictures of this show; just too many with his dogs out. They have both the briefcase and the black umbrella. We have an exponential increase in blood, and a return of the whiteout contacts.

As for ‘Gemini’ it appears fairly left-field because astrology historically hasn’t been a motif within MCR. None of the members are Geminis (I checked, unfortunately), but do you know what the symbol for Gemini is? That’s right. The twins.

My line of thinking is so skewed, genuinely. Maybe Ms. Businesswoman is an astrology girlie.

OSAKA: ENDLESS NIGHT

Exact same outfit as Tokyo, but the blazer comes off, and there’s a little less blood. I’m going to make a flowchart because I’m having the hardest time trying to place all of these photos.

‘Endless Night’ is a lyric from Vampires Will Never Hurt You, which Gerard has cited as their favourite vocal performance they've ever done.

Before I start the spiel, here’s the flowchart:

I see a few potential storylines for MCR5 that centre around the Businesswoman.

The Businesswoman was working in the World Trade Centre when it collapsed, but she was able to make it out. The album would follow her complete mental dissolution in the wake of the events, where she imagined she had died in the attacks. We would explore her reckoning with healing and her eventual rebirth. She is subject to sensationalism from her peers as a woman surrounded by tragedy, which only exacerbates the issues she is having. Only when she has completely broken and dealt with her trauma, she is able to move forwards. Alongside healing, the album would feature anti-war sentiment throughout. We would continue the swarm/rot/vermin/decay imagery as a metaphor for her decline and eventual resolve. This narrative would be more grounded like The Black Parade, but still have fun in its lyricism and concepts.

Alternatively, the Businesswoman perishes in the attacks, but is stuck in a time loop that would have her relive her death over and over again. This could explain why she seems to ‘die’ on tour but continues to come back night after night. We’re painted a vivid picture of our iconic lady in the World Trade Centre succumbing to the rubble as she submits to her fate. In those hazy moments between each restart, she’s greeted with these visions that revisited her past and put her in the place of other women. She’d see herself as Joan of Arc, burning at the stake. She would revisit her glory days as a cheerleader, only to see her perfect image slip through the cracks and distort into who she is today. She would reckon with her hopelessness. How easy it is for her to lie down and let the flames engulf her, but in seeing these visions, she’s filled with a new hope and a bitter vengeance. She thinks of the endless cruelty of war, all the lives it takes, and that rage fuels her. She gets up, and she makes it down the staircase. She lives. The bizarreness of the time loop would allow for some interesting songs. I’m really hoping for a Joan of Arc song, it would be the coolest. Like with the previous idea, we’d have explorations of healing, rebirth, femininity, and war.

Any number of narratives surrounding the Businesswoman could be true. She could be alive or dead. She could be in purgatory. She could die in the attacks or be fighting for her life in a hospital bed. She could be in one of the towers when it collapses or be watching from the curb. The concept could be grounded in a way we haven’t seen before, or twice as insane as Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. Here’s the concrete facts of the album:

It centres around some professional woman.

She has ties to 9/11.

She is dead or has a close call with death.

She hates war.

She heals and experiences rebirth.

I’ve already made note of how a 9/11 album would tie fantastically with the fabric of the band’s return, but another question arises. Why a woman? Historically, MCR’s concept albums have centred around male characters, such as the male Demolition Lover and the Patient. It’s plausible Gerard just wanted to switch things up a bit, but I think it goes a little deeper than that.

As I mentioned before, Gerard has a longstanding connection to femininity. This is something that was definitely alluded to in the Revenge Era, but it would’ve been dismissed as Typical Emo Androgyny from a non-queer audience. In 2014 they opened up about how they empathised with trans people and women, and that at points in their life they had experienced confusion surrounding their identity.

"I have always been extremely sensitive to those that have gender identity issues as I feel like I have gone through it as well, if even on a smaller scale. I have always identified a fair amount with the female gender, and began at a certain point in MCR to express this through my look and performance style. So it's no surprise that all of my inspirations and style influences were pushing gender boundaries… Masculinity to me has always made me feel like it wasn't right for me."

"I never really subscribed to the archetype masculinity growing up... There was a time where I was called a girl so often that when I discovered the idea of transgenderism I considered myself to be more of a girl. So I identify with trans people and women a lot because I was a girl to a lot of people growing up."

The former quote was from the Reddit AMA, and was followed up with “It was really freeing to be able to talk about gender identity btw.” Representations of female characters on the return tour spark commentary on multiple fronts, a lot on how we view femininity and how society loves to make spectacle of tragic women. This fits in well with how MCR has critiqued masculinity, but I think it also has more emotional value. Portraying these characters has allowed Gerard to express himself in a way that just would not be accessible in the early 2000’s and even the 2010’s. The fact that they’re clean, sober and have gotten professional help (Mikey too) is undoubtedly a reason as for why the whole bands seems to be at their happiest in this era, but I think being able to experiment and express femininity onstage has added another layer of catharsis for Gerard.

Copy and paste AGAIN everything I’ve said about the concept albums being an outlet for the band’s experiences. MCR5 is going to centre around a female character, and I think more explorations of gender identity are incoming. It’s a concept that’s not been so explicitly explored in MCR’s history, and I think Gerard should be given the space to vocalise and represent those experiences on an album. It’s something I believe is alluded to in one particular unlisted song, but more to be said in the next part.

This album is a personal statement from the band, it’s a work of deliverance, a visitation of their ruins and a promise to rebirth. We do not move forward in spite of our pasts; we move forward alongside them.

<<< PREVIOUS PART | [BONUS PART COMING: EAGLES ANALYSIS]

#mcr #my chemical romance #mcr5 #mcr5 is real #mcr5 theory #OH GOD I THINK I’M FINALLY DONE

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dmwrites · 2 years

Text

The first few days back after finishing the life series was always a bit jarring. Impulse had been through this three times now, but this last time had been especially… odd. He didn’t like feeling odd. So he went back to old habits, and threw himself into his work. Spent two full days digging at his diggy diggy hole, reinstalled the entire storage system three blocks to the left, polished the sea lanterns until they shined.

“Impulse…”

It took Gem literally waving a hand in front of his face for him to notice her presence.

“Oh! Hi Gem! What’s up bud?” Impulse smiled at her, moving and realizing just how sore he was- how long had he been leaning against his shovel and staring at the opposite wall?

“When is the last time you slept?” Gem crossed her arms.

Impulse frowned, trying to remember the number of times he’d seen the moon come up. “Dunno… a couple of days?”

“It’s been a week, Impulse.”

“Oh.” Impulse put a hand to his chest. “Well, you know how server travel goes.”

“yoU KnOw hOW serVEr TRaVeL gOeS.” Gem mimicked him, rolling her eyes. “I can excuse a couple days of confusion, I mean you just got back from dying in the Life series, and that’s what I told myself, but you and Pearl have both been handling it badly! Maybe if you two talked to each other you could, like, get over the fact that she killed you or whatever.”

Impulse’s fingers wandered absentmindedly across his chest, just kind of playing with the fabric of his shirt. “It wasn’t Pearl who killed me.”

“Well then go talk to whoever did.” Gem retorted. “Get your closure and then go to sleep. I miss soup group shenanigans.” Without another word she took off, maybe to avoid Impulse’s story of his death, which he had just been about to tell. Ah well.

Impulse went back to digging, hacking away at a gold ore, fully intending on ignoring Gem’s suggestion, but, just as annoying as she was, he kept thinking about the axe buried in his chest, the shock of who had put it there, and the darkness.

It was approaching another night, and Impulse put down his pickaxe and flew out of the hole. He flew past Pearl’s alien landscape, saw a huddled figure in blankets sitting under a mushroom. He’d talk to her too, after this perhaps. He held nothing against Pearl, never had and never would. So proud of the champion.

Impulse landed on the stairs of Bdubs’ diorite tower, which was alive with activity. He could hear someone, Etho he was sure, hitting something with a hammer in the basement. Far above was Ren’s doghouse castle thing- Impulse could see lights on.

“Impulse?”

Impulse turned to find the very man he’d been looking for standing on the staircase right inside, dressed in literal striped pajamas and a nightcap.

“Hey Bdubs.” Impulse felt for his chest on instinct.

“What on earth are you doing here so late?” Bdubs’ eyes flicked to Impulse’s hand and then up to his eyes. “I was about to go to sleep.”

“Can we talk?” Impulse asked.

“For a bit, but I really gotta get to sleep.” Bdubs gestured for Impulse to follow him up the stairs. Impulse climbed in silence, just kind of looking at the back of Bdubs’ head and that stupid nightcap. He’d been putting off seeing Bdubs ever since he got back, and it was almost odd to see him like this, all normal and whole again.

“So, whatcha wanna talk about?” Bdubs gestured to a chair in the corner of his bedroom.

Impulse sat. “Well, about double life, honestly. It’s kinda weird to be back, isn’t it?”

“Kind of.” Bdubs sat on top of his bed. “I just got so much to do here, it’s more been a matter of oh yeah that happened anyways. You probably feel the same way, you little dwarf guy.”

“So you’re adjusting well then?” Impulse asked, wondering why he was talking like this, like Bdubs was a simple causal acquaintance.

“Oh yeah, it’s been the easiest adjustment yet.” Bdubs said. “Just keep thinking I’m gonna get phantom damage every once in a while, which is weird to get un-used to. What about you?”

Impulse played with his shirt. “Oh yeah, well, it’s been-”

“Why do you keep doing that?” Bdubs interrupted, mimicking Impulse’s hand on his chest. “What’s that about?”

“I- I don’t know. I guess its kind of involuntary, in a way. It’s where the axe was buried into me.” Impulse let out a long breath.

Bdubs frowned, kind of looking up towards the ceiling in deep thought. “What do you mean? Pearl killed me, she never touched you.”

Impulse’s hand rubbed quicker against his chest. “It was a weird and confusing fight, but, uh, you accidentally hit me with your axe instead of Pearl. My death message said you killed me.” Impulse pointed at his chest.

“Oh.” Bdubs frowned. “Dang. Really?”

“Yeah.” Impulse leaned forward slightly.

“Well, sounds about on brand for me, jeez lewis.” Bdubs laughed. “Impulse, we really were a couple of dunces, weren’t we? I can’t believe I killed you! Whoops! Lol.”

Impulse smiled, and it felt like paper folding into unpleasant shapes. “Yeah. Whoops.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me.” Bdubs shifted, getting under his blankets. “That sure is something huh? Now, Impulse, love ya to death and all that, but a beauty needs his beauty sleep. Do you mind blowing out the candles as you’re leaving?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sure.” Impulse stood up, kind of thrown by the abrupt end of the conversation. He moved to the door as he’d been asked, blew out the candle, then stopped dead, turning back around. His mouth worked out several different phrases, none of which ended up leaving his throat. “It’s nice to see you again, Bdubs.”

“You too Impulse. We’ll have to go out for a horse ride sometime soon.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Impulse closed the door behind him and started down the stairs. He felt heavier then when he’d came in, somehow. He grasped as his chest as if he could stop the gaping hole from swallowing him whole.

It didn’t register with Impulse until he was at the ground floor of the monolith, perhaps too distracted before, but the racket Etho had been making had ceased at some point. And there was the man himself, leaning against the door leading down to the basement.

“Hi Etho.” Impulse tried to smile at him.

“Hey there, lover boy. Still got double life on the mind?” Etho’s voice almost held a chuckle in it, and something else Impulse couldn’t put a finger on.

“You called me that name in the games, Etho. I’m back to regular old Impulse again. The games are over.” Impulse told him.

“You sure about that? They don’t seem to quite be over for you just yet, lover boy.” Etho walked forward and gently, more gentle then Impulse had ever seen him, pulled Impulse’s hand away from his chest. It hurt. It all hurt.

#July 24 2022 #fic #hc9 #dlsmp #impulsesv #bdubs #not rly shippy but could be perceived as such idk #long post

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myriadium · 8 months

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Hello! I've been binging on the headcannons and designs of your AU all day, they're very creative and have quite a lot of thought behind that makes them feel organic and vibrant.

Now, my question is about what are your headcannons for the other half of the characters, a.k.a. "The Bakugan™"? Though I'm not only talking about the monster protagonists, but Bakugan as a species. I haven't seen anyone flesh them out as of yet.

RIGHT SO here's the issue I run into whenever I try to work on Bakugan: I only know how to draw people. I'm not creative enough to do diverse designs that don't follow the general shape of a bipedal humanoid. Sometimes I draw a tail or something. I have a lot of respect for people who can design and detail fantasy creatures; they're always so creative and some of them literally blow me away. Additionally, from a writing perspective, I'm not very good at alien society worldbuilding, because I'm not creative enough to make up a whole new society. I'm not J R R Tolkien, for sure.

This presents a problem because I like to tell stories through designs. I let a character's looks influence the story (instead of the other way around, but that's because I just really like drawing things and then trying to get them to fit my story hehe) but if I can't draw a character, their part is just void.

When it comes to monster designs, unless it's horror or very very pretty (very arbitrary decision, tbh), I don't like humanoid creatures at all. I don't like Ravenoid or Robotallion or whatever the fuck Drago becomes in the later seasons. Exceptions are Gorem because I love colossi and Monarus because they're beautiful. And Lars Lion but I'd be okay if she was redesigned. I'm thinking of a deer with its antlers forming a crossbow.

I'd like to headcanon that Bakugan themselves have more primordial, indiscernible forms, but Marucho's program is able to translate the energy readings into physical beings. I always find it strange when a supposed alien creature looks like a person except maybe their eyes are different or they're taller (looking at you, Vestals. I want them to look truly alien, almost freakishly so. Maybe they can retain a humanoid silhouette but generally I want to go for something COOL) but at least for Bakugan I can just say "yah like Marucho's program makes them look like a giant turtle trust".

A Bakugan's energy is very powerful and unstable, especially reliant on the state of the central cores, which fuels all Bakugans' life force. Two cores is kind of like two notes played that forms a dissonant core. The power generated is unbalanced (Silent core is stronger) and it ruptures the fabric of the universe over time. Powered up by the dissonant split cores, this energy escapes through cracks in the dimension, which leaks into new worlds. Usually this leads to preventing the heat death of a universe, but my AU's world was able to harness the energy and translate that into a pokemon game.

Once the cores are reunited, the energy flows in harmony, but lingering effects of the rips remain. The energy is still leaking out, and can be captured. This is how the Vestals found the dimension and colonized it.

I actually like the idea that because of the separation of the cores, all the attributes were separated as well, and the joining of the cores at the end of S1 meant that all the attributes intermingled. related to that, I think it would be mega fun if S2 onwards, there are bakugan with dual or even three attributes, because of the cores joining. It'll definitely bring an interesting aspect to a Bakugan tournament, where a two different attribute brawlers can use the same Bakugan.

I think Mikhail really missed a golden opportunity to study the sociology of sentient energy, honestly. Instead he got caught up in traveling between dimensions.

Honestly while I have thought about how my AU's Bakugan might differ from the show's, I definitely have not thought about it enough to be able to write a worldbuilding manual out of it :( It's all very surface level stuff.

What I will say is that at the start of every season they gotta shake up the main team's Bakugan and have them get new ones. I liked being able to see how the brawlers and the Bakugan interact in the beginning of their partnerships, but the later seasons just drop you in the middle of a fight with a Bakugan you've never seen before and never explain how they met. If you want to treat your Bakugan like real characters you gotta flesh out that backstory!

With all these disclaimers out of the way, here are some Bakugan design ideas I wrote down a while back:

"a hummingbird with a scythe shaped beak" : while hummingbirds themselves are pretty nonthreatening, imagine a grim reaper hummingbird. hilarious. Darkus or Ventus attribute. This was extremely inspired by oberus and the fact that her design is so good i have no idea what the fuck they were going for. Exactly what I want.

"just a bundle of wings (think biblically accurate seraphim but butterfly wings instead of feathered ones) that slowly fall off and reveal a cocoon. once evolution happens, the cocoon opens up to reveal-" : I didn't have an idea for what it would reveal, but i like the idea of an ominous bundle of butterfly wings. Ventus.

"Biblically accurate owl" : A barn owl looking creature with no eyes on its face, but with eyes all over its wings. Darkus.

"Monstrous barreleye" : honestly you can probably make any of the deep sea creatures into a horrifying Aquos Bakugan, but the barreleye is my favorite. Imagine a big fish but with a clear dome and inside is just like. a writhing mass of tissue. What's going on here?

"Stingray skeleton, but it flies" : Stingrays have insanely cool skeletons. Their bones look like feathers. Haos.

A slightly warped vers (don't even ask how it's warped, it's different ok) of the lion costumes you see in a southern Chinese lion dance. Pyrus.

"Earthwyrm" : I think I just wanted a cool giant worm. A million teeth and cutting it up creates multiple wyrms. They can burrow to different gate cards using wyrm holes. Subterra.

Now that I'm writing these out I think my design ideas are fun. Maybe I'll draw them one day. This post ended up a lot more rambly than I expected, I apologize. You do bring up an interesting question though, it seems like I should start thinking about how the Bakugan as a species fit into my world.

Recommend to me your favorite monster artist! My personal favorite currently is matryoshiiika, but I would love to study more!

#bakugan #bakugan worldbuilding

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quotemenevervore · 1 year

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Decided to split up Remember Me, My Love into chapters, so…

Chapter 1

Content warnings: fear, panic

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With every death that he’d seen happen to others, he never once thought that this was a possibility. The chances of waking up like this on a server that had no evidence prior to this? Slim to none.

So why the hell did he wake up only five inches tall?

He woke up, completely dwarfed by his blanket, almost unable to get out from under it. Ten minutes were wasted trying to squirm out of what he thought were tangled sheets, until it occurred to him that it was a solid surface overtop of him and none of his limbs were actually twisted in the fabric. Finally, he’d crawled up to where he saw the opening, poking his head out and barely holding back a gasp of shock.

Everything was huge. Even the bed, which he was now realizing, practically engulfed him. He couldn’t have been any bigger than someone’s ring finger. For a long, agonizing moment, all he could do is stare, mouth agape before he forced himself out of it. He couldn’t waste any time figuring out his next move, not at this size. Damn, and he wanted to fix up Las Nevadas and make it better this life. So much for that.

What could he do? Should he hide? At this size, it’d be way too easy for him to be killed, intentionally or accidentally. Hell, the normally small gap from bed to floor could probably kill him at this height. Fuck, he had to get down, and somehow make it to the bottom of the elevator before he ran out of air in his now tiny lungs. How was he gonna get down? Sitting at the edge of the bed, his grip on the sheets tightened and loosened as he thought, before he looked down at his hand. Maybe.. maybe he could use the sheet to slide down.

It took him an agonizingly long time to get down to the floor, hands buzzing from scraping down the sheets. Looking back up, he felt sick at the height he just came from. It would have killed him, for certain. God, what the hell is he supposed to do? He was practically useless and too easy to kill now. He… he couldn’t stay here. Foolish would be able to handle his own should Purpled and Dream return, but if he also had to protect him? He couldn’t bring himself to force the totem into such a scenario, not after everything. And he was the last ally the duck hybrid had, which left the only option he had left.

He had to leave. With nothing in his inventory, a good chance of not getting anything before leaving and having nowhere to go. Great.

He started towards the elevator before abruptly changing his mind and going to the closest crack in the wall as he could. He could glide down, it’d probably be safer. Sure enough, thanks to all the damage from Dream’s latest attack, there was plenty, and with a quick flap of his wings to ensure they’d carry him down, he let himself glide down to the ground. It may not have been fast, but at least he didn’t have to worry about drowning as his feet finally hit the ground.

He crept against the walls of the buildings around him silently, keeping his eyes locked upwards in case Foolish or Prime forbid, Fundy who’s a literal fox, saw him. It took forever and a half, his body tense and head running with worry and fear, but he finally made it to the edge of the country. The grains of sand were like rocks to him, and the tall skyscraper-like sign was simply out of his sight at this size. Maybe it was that that finally made it sink in.

He was shrunken. A mere few inches tall in this world full of beings that could be up to twenty three feet, this world full of gods and people who wanted to play god. A world full of hybrids in which could and likely would eat him upon seeing him at this size. His heart sank into his stomach, and he almost collapsed against the sign from how shaky his legs became. How was he going to survive?

Through pure grit and determination. That’s how he’s gotten this far, and it’ll be how he gets through this. Pulling himself together, which felt like a mountainous task, he started out into the forest. Surely there was some place he could seek shelter in until he could build himself a better one. Nightfall was approaching, so he took shelter in the closest spot: Wilbur’s burger van, sitting abandoned and vacant and desolate. Just like its owner, Quackity mused. Though, it made him wonder what had become of the man. He hadn’t seen him in a while, had he managed to lose his life once again?

Curling up against the wall beside the door, he tried to get a little bit of sleep before dawn. Prime knew he was going to need it.

~ ~ ~

He found himself cursing his luck as he finally made it to another civilization. It’d been several days, perhaps a week’s travel at his size, and he’d been surviving on sweet berries and water from anywhere he could get it as long as it appeared clean enough. And wow, did he keep getting reminded of how bleak things seemed in Pogtopia.

But no, that’s not why he cursed his luck. He cursed his luck, because the closest civilization to Las Nevadas just had to be Kinoko Kingdom. The country his fiancés made without him without even telling him. The country his own fiancé banned him from. He wanted so badly to be petty, to keep marching onwards and find somewhere else to stay, but.. he’d also been surviving on sweet berries and water from wherever he could get it. Beggars can’t be choosers, so he begrudgingly continued into the country, hoping against everything that the closest house to him was George’s.

It was harder to find a crack in the wall at this house, he noted with an annoyed scoff. At least their pretty little kingdom was untouched by Dream in his mission to enact revenge. Though, hadn’t Sapnap said something about killing him if he escaped..? No, he scolded himself. No thinking about them. I can’t focus on them. On the side of the house, there was a very small hole, one where he’d barely managed to squeeze into.

The dark, cramped corridors he was met with was, for better or for worse, undesirable. But it was also the last place he bet he’d be found, so he’d just make do. It was obviously better to get over a little darkness and dirtiness than to be caught at this size by anyone. Sure, it was a little difficult to get around for now, but surely he wasn’t fully incapable. Surely he can make his own ladders and such. I hope so, he thought as his hands almost lost grip on the support beam he was climbing.

He’d made it to a new ‘floor’, sitting down to catch his breath. The walls were mostly solid, but there was a small amount of space to walk on. He’d find somewhere to stay in a moment- There were voices, more than one and it caught him off guard. He.. was this not George’s house? Well, even if it wasn’t, fine, right? There’s more than just him and them in Kinoko.

…He should find where he’s staying. Surely there’s some open area that’s not in a cabinet or something of the sort. Getting to his feet, he walked down the ‘hall’ searching for an open plan. He knew he was walking towards the voices, but he also needed to know how close he was to the open floor. He’d stay out of sight, he’d be okay.

The hall he’d been walking on stopped abruptly with a small opening. It looked like it led to a kitchen or perhaps a bathroom counter, though it was likely the former considering the voices he heard. Hesitantly poking his head out, he observed his surroundings.

The house itself seemed a mix of spruce and dark oak, with mushroom decorations scattered here and there. He wouldn’t be surprised if the counter was made of giant mushroom stems. The kitchen was attached to a barren dining room, with a table and three chairs, one of which had collected a good amount of dust. A half wall seemed to separate the kitchen and living room and-

His eyes caught sight of orange irises and he bolted back into the wall. Sapnap. Fuck, out of everybody- “Everything okay?” “Uh- yeah, just.. thought I saw something.” Shit, shit shit! He mentally cursed himself out. Of course, of fucking course he’d wind up in his ex-fiancés’ house! He was trying to go to George’s! Whatever, it would be fine, right? He was trying to stay out of sight anyway, just more incentive to, anyway. If he got caught by Karl, there was a good chance he’d be killed, if their last interaction was anything to go by. Sapnap was a bit of a wild card, especially since he had enhanced senses, but it was probably best to avoid capture at all costs. Stepping back into the wall, he tried to tune out the voices of his exes, trying to ignore how the domestic, peaceful atmosphere twisted his heartstrings painfully.

It’ll be fine. Just don’t get caught.

Easy enough.

He found an opening wide enough to be around the same size as his old bedroom, and despite having nothing but the clothes on his back he smiled. Maybe this will be okay. This could be good, he’s completely out of anyone’s view and nobody could get to him! He’d finally be safe. Sure, it’s not homey right now, but surely he could make it that way with enough time. Get some supplies, maybe scraps of fabric and make some kind of nest, since a bed wouldn’t be feasible. Definitely food, but that wouldn’t be hard to achieve, he was pretty close to the kitchen. He was sure it would be fine.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #remember me my love

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eriexplosion · 7 months

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Just finished the finale and I am going to eAT PLASTIC.

WHAT. THE. FUCK. WAS BAYLAN'S PLAN. I am going to throttle something they clearly were setting up for season two and now they are in a fucking PICKLE about that aren't they? The thing is that I fucking adore Baylan and now I'm EXTREMELY nervous we will never find out his deal because they haddddd to stretch it between two seasons.

Overall though, I did enjoy it, though again would have liked to see more of Baylan and Shin - they're just delightful to watch and I'm obsessed with seeing more of them. I love that Shin upon being set loose immediately decided fuck the Empire she's going to go JOIN SOME BANDITS. Feral queen. Morgan's death was unfortunately very underwhelming, that was one part that didn't click well for me.

One thing that really, REALLY stood out this season aside from those two though is that I think they got the absolutely perfect Ezra casting. Eman did so damn good and really tapped into the Ezra charm perfectly and he looks. EXACTLY like Ezra's dad in a way that makes me so emotional. And of course, I loved his reunion with Hera though I think he spent a little too long wandering around in a stormtrooper helmet. Baby boy you are so lucky they didn't shoot on sight what are you THINKING?

When he patted Chopper though ;_; I hope we get to see Chopper actually do things next season. Let the droid commit crime, he craves it and so do I.

Sabine finally using the force to pull her lightsaber in was a good moment, but when she went from that to JUMP AND I'LL BOOST YOU :D I was still just. Let's not get TOO confident now.

Still, I really love the addition of the idea that anyone can learn to use the force, some just have more innate talent, like. I love that. The idea that the force is in everything but only SOME people can learn to connect with it felt... a little empty in a way. Like yeah the Force is in everything but you're either born special enough to feel it or you're not. Having it be a talent anyone can connect with just makes it feel like a more integral part of the fabric of life.

And the KANAN MENTION. WAILING. He only got brought up directly a couple of times, but that means it hit much harder when he did get brought up.

Also Sabine literally never mentioned what she did to Ezra other than 'it's complicated' and that is so funny to me. Just go through your motions and refuse to answer and one day he will be flung back to regular space and you will still be here and now you don't have to explain at all!

I just would be more satisfied with this ending if we had ANY idea of how they are going to handle the Baylan Problem because he is so intriguing and played so well and they LITERALLY. DID NOT. TELL US ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT HE WAS DOING? WHY?

#star wars: ahsoka #star wars: ahsoka spoilers #I'm screaming because I love Baylan and I know nothing more now than I did at the start

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distant-velleity · 3 months

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A Fair Price (Vol. 1)

Summary: Davis’ attempt to make Azul face consequences backfires. Horribly. ...or not? Word count: 5.6k+ A/N: okay so. this may be a little rushed. but in MY DEFENSE this may be the longest thing i've written in several months and i need to stop myself at some point. plus i think niaa needs a break from my ranting abt these two. also ive never beta read my works in my life and it SHOWS Tagging: @thehollowwriter @nahelenia. lmk if anyone wants to be tagged for the release of vol2 !

Vol. 0 || Vol. 1 || Vol. 2

(Day 1 - Thursday.)

It had been, even by Davis’ dirt-low standards, an awful morning.

The day began with someone sabotaging his potion during first period. The perpetrator was caught by Crewel too easily, but that didn’t mean Davis was free from having to do a remedial. Then, he was intentionally tripped on his way out of second period, dropping his bookbag and being laughed at while he was on his knees. As if that weren’t enough, he’d nearly died during P.E. thanks to some classmates thinking it’d be fun to knock him off his broom several meters in the air. At least Ruggie had the sense to save him from certain death… but that left Davis in his debt, again.

After all that, he just wants to have a peaceful lunch by himself with no incidents whatsoever—even ducking into a hallway corner to avoid being spotted during the break—but apparently the universe can’t even spare him that much mercy.

Like an omen of suffering, halfway through the lunch break, Davis hears the clack of polished loafers on the floor before he sees the wearer.

“So you’re here today,” Azul says with slight exasperation belying interest, a wrapped-up bento box in his hand. The lilac fabric and embroidered insignia suggest he made it at his dorm. “Do you enjoy playing hard-to-get for me specifically?”

Davis doesn’t even hide the way he reaches up to rub at his temple. Is this how the newsies viewed him when he first started at RSA? But, no, he wasn’t nearly as much of a—as much of a… whatever, he won’t give any more to that thought.

“No,” he replies, as politely as he can. “I just wanted somewhere quiet to sit.” And then you came.

“Then I hope you won’t mind my intrusion too much.” Not waiting for a response, Azul lowers himself to the ground—slowly, as if his knees are unsteady or his leg muscles are strained—so he can sit next to Davis. There’s a respectful sort of physical distance he maintains.

“It depends on the reason for said intrusion,” mutters Davis.

He regrets giving Azul that opening immediately, spotting the classic spark in his eye that signals an imminent pontification burst.

“Have you forgotten about our exchange already?” Azul wonders rhetorically, setting his bento box in his lap and unpacking it so he can eat. “I believe spending our lunch together is one of the best methods so as to reach both my goal and yours. After all, we don’t have many opportunities to chat outside of club meetings… so this is the only time where I can pin you down for certain. Aren’t I rather benevolent for taking the initiative for you?”

…The exchange. Yes, that certainly exists. After having a blissfully Azul-free early morning and then suffering through literally everything else, he’d totally forgotten about that. (Despite going to bed cursing quietly into his pillow after Ruggie had fallen sound asleep last night, to show how he’d regretted it all of yesterday.)

Davis already knows that the foreseeable future will be nothing short of unbearable. But, as he reminds himself, he’s doing this so someone can at least bring Azul to some form of justice, no matter how seemingly irrelevant; and to settle his own annoyance with the merman because of that. The light at the end of the tunnel is that once this is over, it’s over and he’ll only have to hear a regular amount of yapping afterwards.

“Right. Is this really going to be a daily occurrence?” asks Davis.

Azul simply smiles at him. “Is there an issue with that?” is his response, both a confirmation and a test.

Davis looks at him wordlessly. Ultimately, instead of the other rather rude interjection he was going to say, he shakes his head. “...No.”

“Wonderful,” says Azul, in that elevated tone of his.

Davis looks away to check his phone, and that’s when the merman starts to actually eat. It’s rude to talk with your mouth full—at least Davis, born and raised a Queendom citizen, was taught that—so he gets maybe a few minutes tops of blissful, speech-free silence.

He’s absorbed in a DM conversation with Cater when Azul finally speaks up again. “Was there something on your mind earlier?”

“What?”

“I’m referring to…” Azul spares Davis’ phone a glance before continuing. “The fact that you decided to eat somewhere almost no one would find you. Well, not eat—it seems like you didn’t even spare the effort of going to the cafeteria.”

Okay, really—screw Azul and his nosiness, and how he can hit the nail on the head like that. He’d seen the way the bespectacled housewarden pursued a certain vice housewarden in their joint classes, but seriously.

“You don’t have to think about it so much,” Davis says immediately, because he can already see where this is going. And yet he still adheres to a personal principle of ‘no (fully) lying.’ “Is it so weird for a guy to just want a change of scenery every now and then?”

“You don’t seem like the kind of person to enjoy change without good reason, at least from my observations,” supplies Azul.

“Why are you paying so much attention to me all of a sudden, isn’t Viper your current obsession—” Davis closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again. “Okay, that’s true, but is this any of your business?”

Azul actually huffs. “I’ll have you know I’m leaving Jamil alone while he practices for the SDC. And it isn’t strictly my business, but who am I to abandon a classmate in need? I simply want to know if you have anything you need to get off your chest.”

Great Seven, does Davis have things he needs to ‘get off his chest,’ including his shitty day on top of the rollercoaster the past year has been for him—but he’d sooner go back to Royal Sword than willingly confess anything to Azul. Even if this is a harmless offer, which it never would be, then, well… Davis has someone else he would rather confide in. Possibly.

(And isn’t that a depressing thought, having only one other option, but—)

“Not right now,” he replies, hoping it sounds amicable enough while also being a clear rejection.

“You’re certain? I’d be willing to listen, free of judgment…”

“Yes—”

The bell rings, warning of the five minutes left before lunch break ends. Davis has never felt more relieved.

“What a shame,” says Azul with a sigh, wrapping up his lunch and getting himself standing back onto his feet. “It may have to wait, but—don’t fret. We have plenty of time, after all.”

“That’s the reason I’m fretting,” Davis mumbles as Azul walks away.

If Azul hears him, he doesn’t show it in the slightest.

—

(Day 3 - Saturday.)

“Ya think they’re enjoying themselves?”

“It certainly seems like it. Hehehe.”

Dual voices waft like unpleasant smoke from the partially-opened doors to Azul’s office. As if peeking out from amid holes in the reef, two pairs of yellow-black eyes peer in from the hallway.

Azul, using most of his willpower, makes it a point to avoid showing any external reaction to the twins’ shenanigans. Instead, he focuses on the pleasing sound of Davis’ voice.

“So we can guess that the potion would have combusted,” Davis says, leaning over the desk and scribbling something down on his homework. It’s amusing how agreeable he can be for the sake of good grades, any accusatory tone totally absent.

“What? No, it simply would’ve had a different final effect,” argues Azul, without looking up from his own paper.

That’s when Davis’ pen stops moving. “But this ingredient reacts with pure oxygen easily. Too much of it and the whole thing would go up in flames…”

So much for ‘agreeable.’

Still, Azul doesn’t curse under his breath, but it’s a near thing. He’d spoken mindlessly while listening to the other’s voice, and remembered the deep-sea version of the recipe instead. “That… was careless of me. You’re correct.”

Davis doesn’t gloat, just hums in accepting affirmation and continues writing. It sort of soothes the feverish shame that pricks Azul’s back as he makes sure to put down the right answer on his own worksheet.

“Yes. They’re definitely having fun.”

“Looks like the little sand goby got one over Azul.”

“How interesting; to think that he’d make such a slip-up…”

“Wonder what coulda distracted him so much~”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Azul says airily, standing up and storming over to the door (if you ask him, it was professionally speedwalking). He neutrally meets eyes with Jade and Floyd before closing and locking the doors in their faces. Turning around, he says to Davis, “Sorry about that. The open doors simply… bothered me a little.”

Davis, having stood up and looked over his shoulder for this, frowns ever so slightly. “That might’ve been my bad. If there’s a next time, I’ll make sure to close them properly,” he says, somewhat grudgingly, as if disappointed that he was raised with manners.

He mentions nothing of the twins, despite how they weren’t even trying to hide themselves.

“You mean you don’t think there’ll be a ‘next time’?” Azul lowers himself into his chair with a dramatic sigh; the other sophomore takes this as a cue to sit back down as well. “I’m hurt. Haven’t we been incredibly productive today? Wouldn’t you want to collaborate with me like this again?”

And, reluctant as he is to face the liability that is the introverted part of himself, this has been a good excuse to get away from crowds after a long day working shifts.

(Even if, as per getting to know someone, it’s also a window of time in which his own faults could be personally exposed.)

There’s a moment in which Davis doesn’t respond, looking down at the rest of the lab report and chewing absentmindedly at his lower lip; it’s a mundanely fascinating action, despite only being a subconscious behavior. “Right. But I’m sure you know why I would feel at a disadvantage when this is your turf…”

‘Turf’?

“I didn’t think such terminology was part of your vocabulary—you make me sound like a gang boss. I’m just the housewarden and humble Lounge manager, really.”

“I mean, you are kind of the…” Davis looks up, seeming to realize something, and shakes his head. “…Nevermind. Force of habit.”

Azul chuckles. “Must be the effects of being in Savanaclaw, hmm?”

It’s amusing when Davis grimaces, but also elicits the slightest twinge of sympathy—if it were Azul in that situation, he’d ask to transfer out as soon as possible. “In part, yes.”

“In part?”

There’s no reply. Davis simply gets back to work, and Azul has to firmly stifle a sigh.

It seems as if Davis operates on the principle of “speak the truth or say nothing,” and very rarely deviates from it. Case in point: the current situation. It’s a bit of an obstacle when your name is Azul Ashengrotto and you’re trying to know more still about the only Royal Sword student to transfer to Night Raven College in decades (with the goal of having another useful connection to make use of, obviously).

School rivalries have this tendency to get in the way of information gathering. Which is why the best method was to talk to the teen himself, whether at lunch, club activities, or now.

…which would be more effective if Davis didn’t spend most of their conversations dodging questions like a sand goby camouflaging itself on the seabed.

Floyd’s nickname for you is a little too accurate, Azul thinks, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers. “Does it have anything to do with your time at Royal Sword?” He recalls a certain freshman with a rough history who swore to become a better student, and makes the connection with Davis’ current diligence. “That Trappola off-handedly mentioned you’ve always had your nose stuck in a book, but many things can change in just a handful of years.”

“Do you really have to…” It looks like Davis could age another two decades at the mention of his sly underclassman. “…Well, my previous dorm was also—rough, and territorial, I guess I’d call it. It wasn’t on the level of the Savanaclaw jocks, though.”

Then, if he’s always been sorted like that, it looks like he isn’t just the pure and principled individual who’s risen to the challenge of defeating ‘injustice.’

“I see, I see.” Azul hums with interest. “I suppose that means there’s still much more to you than you’d like to willingly show me?”

He flashes a smile at Davis, who sighs.

“So much for being productive… Can we get back to work, please?”

“It was merely a question.”

“Ashengrotto, I know you’re a Potionology ace,” says Davis, while brushing back his bangs with a tired air for emphasis, “but I don’t think I’m any more interesting than the homework.”

On the contrary, Azul actually feels more energized and satisfied after recovering from his earlier slip-up. It’s almost like he took any of Davis’ enthusiasm… which is a sobering thought, actually, and he straightens up in his seat.

“You’re right. These questions won’t answer themselves.”

…

(Later, once Davis has left, the twins approach Azul. Again.

“How did it go?” Jade asks, ever ‘polite.’

“Fine,” replies Azul, in a bit of a daze. He’s made progress, but not enough, but it’s also just enough to get him on that high of needing more…

…which is promptly ruined by Floyd’s interjection of, “You don’t even have his number yet. Do we gotta wait for that development like some kind of romance drama?”

Azul bestows upon Floyd a well-placed kick in the shin.)

—

(Day 5 - Monday.)

“And thus, we can see the effects of these policies on the Queendom of Roses through history…”

With two sophomore classes combined into one hall for a History of Magic lecture, the sound of pens scratching is louder than usual. It goes hand-in-hand with the rustling of notebooks and paper. Here and there, students have the gall to hushedly whisper among themselves.

“For example, in the late 1800s, war broke out among the dukedoms because…”

Idly, Davis jots down a paraphrased version of Trein’s words.

To be completely honest, he’s not fully paying attention. While he normally would listen closely, his excuse this time is that the content of this lecture is almost entirely things he knows by heart, save for a few details and exact dates. Having grown up in the Queendom of Roses and taken an advanced history elective before being expelled from Royal Sword Academy—if you could respectfully ignore that he’d been a history nerd his whole life—...the reason why is quite obvious.

So Trein’s words fade into the background, barely louder than the class-produced white noise. Unfortunately, that means the majority of his focus has shifted to the person sitting next to him.

Azul takes notes diligently and methodically, much in the same way that he was already in the classroom by the time Davis had arrived—

(He’d turned to Davis and smiled expectantly. Expectantly, and expectantly smug.

It really had been tempting, in that moment, to find somewhere else to sit out of spite—but it wasn’t like Davis wanted to sit next to Ruggie, who would probably copy off of his notes. And if he sat next to anyone else, well…

Basically, he was left with no other choice but to sit next to the merman, who was sitting towards the front of the room.)

—like a dedicated model student.

Aside from his standard magic pen, Azul also carries with him an assorted variety of highlighters or colored pens. Whenever there’s a pause in Trein’s lecture, he goes back and marks up his notes in a way that would make them easier to review.

It makes sense, all tutoring and study guide-related things considered. That doesn’t mean it’s any less oddly satisfying for Davis to watch out of the corner of his eye.

“The war resulted in dramatic lifestyle changes for Queendom citizens, especially those of the northern dukedom whose land had been pillaged and ruined…”

There go another few bullet points on Davis’ notes as he at least makes the effort to keep up with the lecture. In the margins, he takes note of a few important dates.

It’s weird, how—like when he was starting to have fun with the newsies, with Jacques—this lecture seems awfully boring when he could give into a less important temptation. Like observing Azul. Actually, it’s weird how that’s beginning to seem appealing…

Why is that—?

“Mr. Jayme,” calls Trein right after briefly summarizing the north’s situation, interrupting thoughts Davis didn’t even realize he was caught up in.

“Ah—” Davis blinks, snapping to attention. “Yes, sir?”

Some students start whispering behind him. It’s too easy to pretend he doesn’t hear anything, even if it’s all too noticeable.

He doesn’t notice the way Azul eyes him with an unreadable expression.

Trein raises a critical eyebrow at him—although, he’s usually satisfied with Davis’ work if not commending it, so maybe it’s more expectant… “You seem to be a bit out of it today. Would you mind standing up, and clearing your head by explaining to the class what other consequences the war had on the north?”

“…No, sir. I’ll do it.”

The whispers turn into faint snickers, people who are just waiting to see him fail and be humiliated. It seems that—even as much as Davis tries to keep a low profile—people never stop getting a kick out of kicking the outsider while he’s down. He doesn’t sigh or flush red as he stands up, even though shame makes even the air around him feel too suffocating from being put on the spot.

“With most of their cities and towns destroyed, the citizens of the northern dukedom had to crowd together in makeshift settlements to make it from day to day with the intention of gradually rebuilding,” Davis explains almost entirely from memory alone. “However, because of the poor conditions, sickness spread among the populace like wildfire. It was especially brutal for the weak-bodied former aristocracy, whose lands and assets had been targeted during the war. Consequently, with more of the common people left alive than the wealthy once the epidemic passed, the north was one of the first regions in the Queendom to slowly abolish the previous social hierarchy.”

The room is, funnily enough, silent.

Lucius mews something that, if Animal Linguistics has done its job, seems to be vague praise. Trein nods approvingly. “Very good; a flawless answer. You may sit back down.”

Davis doesn’t sit down so much as he lowers himself and then sags into his seat. That’s enough of being publicly perceived for one day, and—it’s not even noon yet, for the Seven’s sake.

By chance, though, he glances aside to see Azul smiling at him with a look in his eyes that screams I told you so. Even if he distinctly does not remember Azul telling him anything this whole class period.

(…and yet it feels good that he’s proven all of their classmates, who were hoping for him to mess up, wrong.)

The lecture continues on.

…

“I hope you all took note of that. Now, I’ll allow you two minutes for a stretch break. We will continue on the Queendom’s history momentarily.”

All across the room, pens clatter to the desks and sighs of relief are exhaled.

Azul finishes writing something down, goes over the subheading and some crucial phrases in a bright cerulean, then finally allows his hand a rest. “Well,” he says loftily, rolling his wrist in circles, “I’d say that was quite the enlightening lecture. Wouldn’t you?”

He looks over at Davis.

“Right,” replies Davis, almost automatically. “I knew most of that, but…”

Before saying anything else, he trails off. It sounds too much like he’s bragging, doesn’t it? And he’d rather not; especially not after that display…

“And? There’s no shame in that.” Azul chuckles to himself. “I don’t mean to sound like Rook, but there’s something admirable about seeing people when they’re confident. No wonder you hardly took any notes.”

Davis doesn’t mention how he didn’t take notes because he was watching Azul take them. “Well, you said it yourself—Ace reports that I’ve always had my nose in a book. I guess this is just a side effect of that.”

“But not everyone who reads thinks about what they read, you know.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

Azul opens his mouth to respond, probably with something witty—

Trein raps his knuckles against the whiteboard.

“Let us pick up where we left off.”

Instead of saying anything, Azul simply nods at him and picks up his pen. Back to paying attention, back to writing his perfect notes.

“Today, we see the dukedom system has become obsolete…”

Davis does his best to keep paying attention, but in the end, he’s still always glancing aside.

—

(Day 9 - Friday.)

Azul crosses his arms.

The classroom used for the Board Game Club is absolutely devoid of its usual members.

…To be honest, he probably should have seen this coming. If the group chat meant anything, Idia was going to be busy with something tech-related and couldn’t come—many of their other members also had remedials or something else to take care of, so they would be late too or wouldn’t be showing up at all.

And yet, Azul showed up anyway… then set up a few games for the latecomers to play whenever they decided to come…

Sometimes, being productive feels like a curse.

Azul sighs aloud to no one in particular, settling himself by a checkers board. There’s nothing he can really do now unless he wants to study, but at the same time, he may not even have enough time to actually get in the mindset for it.

So he pulls out his phone and opens Magicam to do some people-studying.

Normally, he leaves this kind of thing up to Floyd and Jade (if it’s information-gathering), or consults Cater for help (if it’s marketing-related); his personal account remains woefully untouched much of the time compared to the official Mostro Lounge one. But it never hurts to take matters into his own hands.

(…Even if it means looking through the profile of the person he’s been observing in-person for the past week?)

Azul pulls up Davis’ account.

(Yes it does, apparently.)

Thinking back proudly on how he’d convinced the other sophomore—who had his account set to private, a wise move as someone attending an arcane academy—to accept his follow request the other day, he finally has the time and excuse to go through his posts.

There’s a girl who looks around the same age as Davis featuring in almost all of his few posts. Azul’s first instinct, as someone who has matchmade many a pair in his day (unfortunately), is to wonder if they’re involved.

But upon further examination, they have the same facial structure, roughly, and where his hair is brown with blonde streaks hers is dirty blonde with a few more prominent brown streaks. After quickly going through some of her posts, too, she has him tagged as her brother—so it seems they’re familially related, after all. And Davis also has one or two posts featuring what seems to be his whole family: consisting of their parents, him and his sister, as well as a presumed younger brother. They all look happy just being with each other, and in every photo there’s a soft light in Davis’ eyes that Azul can’t recall ever seeing before.

He finds himself thinking of his own little family—just him, his loving mother, and his equally-supportive stepfather—and doesn’t realize the fond smile forming on his lips until it’s too late.

“Someone looks happy.”

Azul snaps both his expression back to normal and his head up, spotting Davis setting down his bag and sitting in the chair across from him.

“Sorry I’m late,” adds Davis, instead of elaborating on his previous sentence. “Someone started a fight in the courtyard.”

Judging by how his clothes are relatively clean and free of, say, charred spots from fire magic—Azul freely assumes he managed to not get caught up in it. “At least you came.” He puts on his best mock-sorrow face, saying, “Why, I was so despondent all on my lonesome…”

Davis gives him a flat look.

“Alright, alright.” Azul dismissively waves his free hand. “Don’t worry about being late. I wasn’t doing much except looking at your Magicam posts.”

“Can I… ask why?” inquires Davis, sounding more skeptical by the second. However, there’s also something about his tired expression that indicates he was expecting to hear this at some point.

(Which, rude. Azul only does a little snooping when it comes to online profiles.)

“I wasn’t aware you had siblings,” Azul explains, “but in hindsight, it seems to explain your behavior around the freshmen… Why, remember how you saw Chrysos coming out of his room the other day and fussed over him?”

Davis flushes pink across his cheeks and all the way to his ears. “I thought it was justified! He looked so pale and dizzy, like my little brother when he’s sick, and I got worried…”

Azul can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “It’s not a bad thing,” he assures.

It’d actually earned Davis some favor with Azul and the Leeches, but he wouldn’t voice that just yet.

“The death glares Chrysos was giving me sure had me thinking it was,” Davis mutters. “But, yeah, I’ve got a twin sister and a little brother. They’re gonna give me grey hairs.” For a change, he leans over and asks out of curiosity, “What’s your family like?”

“Mine? Well…” Almost subconsciously, Azul’s chest puffs a little with pride, and he can’t help talking about them. “It’s just me and my mother, plus my stepfather, but I’d say we’re rather close-knit. My mother runs a restaurant, you see, and my stepfather’s experience in law helped make it what it is today. I’ve many fond memories with the two of them.”

Davis is looking at him with something like surprise on his face—surprised awe, maybe. Azul’s affectionate tone regarding his family certainly wouldn’t fit his supposed mental image of a traumatized but cold-hearted capitalist. “That’s… I don’t want to call it surprisingly sweet, but it’s wholesome. So that must be why you established the Mostro Lounge.”

“Naturally,” says Azul with a smile.

“That’s nice,” Davis replies, sounding genuine as he nods. “That makes me wonder… Did you have someone who inspired you to be a mage, then?”

Like iridescent soap bubbles, Azul recalls memories of—

“My grandmother. She’s a very skilled mage who always uses her powers to help the less fortunate. What about you?”

He’s not expecting a full answer, of course, but…

“For me, it was my dad.” Davis rests his cheek on his palm, almost chuckling with nostalgia. “He’s the only one in our family who could use magic, and I thought it was the coolest thing growing up. You can imagine my joy when I got my magic in middle school and found out I was just a late bloomer.”

Azul looks at him in surprise. “You were a late bloomer? But I heard the entrance requirements for Royal Sword are far stricter than Night Raven’s.”

“Yeah, well, I was a really motivated preteen,” admits Davis. “If I wasn’t studying, I was practicing magic—and I eventually got the invitation.”

…

(It… reminds Azul a little of himself.)

“Seems like we’ve both worked hard to earn our rights as mages,” Azul remarks, leaning over the table and (sort of) beaming at Davis with his chin resting on his intertwined hands. “Looks like we’re quite similar, after all.”

As if remembering himself and his skepticism, Davis huffs. “Hey, no need to lump me in with you—”

“A-Am I… interrupting something?”

They both whip their heads to look over at the door, where Idia is clinging to its frame for dear life. Azul becomes acutely aware of two things: that he is only maybe a hand’s length away from Davis’ face, and that Idia is a notorious maker of assumptions like everyone else at this school.

“Nope,” immediately replies Davis at the same time that Azul says, “Not at all.”

“Y…You sure?”

“Positive,” Azul insists, delicately adjusting his glasses with his index finger and thumb. “You’re just on time, actually.” Where ever did the time go? “Davis and I were in the middle of discussing what we should play today.”

In the corner of his vision, he sees Davis bite his lower lip to avoid pointing out the obvious lie.

“…If you say so.” Idia pulls up another chair and sits down, not looking convinced in the least. “S-so… what did you decide on playing?”

Davis and Azul meet eyes for a moment, and Azul glances back at Idia. “How about…”

—

(Day 14 - Thursday.)

The Mostro Lounge is quieter than usual: the sound of customers chatting is only about as loud as the jazz accompaniment being played from the overhead speakers. Here and there, a few tables are completely empty.

Normally, Davis wouldn’t come here of his own volition. Normally. He has the excuse that some of his dormmates tried to have a—for lack of a better metaphorical phrase—dick-measuring contest with him. It’s not that he can’t hold his own in a battle of wits or fists, but he wanted to study. And…

He looks over at a very noticeable head of styled, pale hair belonging to a certain octopus merman amid the hustle of waiters on the other side of the restaurant.

(…at what point did he start considering Azul as the lesser of a few evils, again? Even in a social setting? Wasn’t the point to humble him, not—not this?)

A voice, soft and melodious, snaps him from his thoughts—

“Jayme?”

“Ah…” Davis looks over to see Chrysos, in a waiter’s version of the Octavinelle uniform, standing by his table. “Chrysos. You’re not sick anymore?”

Chrysos doesn’t blush at the reference to the fever that had kept him out of commission for a whole week, but it seems like a near thing. “I’m well enough to wait on tables,” he insists, his curls framing his face in a bashful way.

Davis nods. “In that case, I’ll try that new matcha latte Jade keeps advertising.”

“Noted. Just pay when you’re finished.” Chrysos starts to leave, but pauses and turns back around. “I’ll tell the housewarden you’re here, too.”

“Wait, isn’t he working right now—”

The freshman heads to the kitchen, leaving no room for protests. On his way there, he taps Azul on the shoulder and says something made inaudible by distance.

Davis sighs and pulls out his spell textbook. Hopefully Azul knows his priorities and keeps working…

(But it’s kind of lonely to just study on his own—)

…or not, because it’s only a matter of minutes before the other sophomore slides into the seat next to him.

“Ashengrotto?” Davis asks in disbelief. “Aren’t you… you know… on the clock?”

Azul smirks. “I get one break per shift, and I always use them wisely.”

“Is…” Davis pauses as he eyes the people around them, who may or may not be looking their way. “Is spending your time on me your definition of wise?”

“Ahh, but you’re the one who came here to study, aren’t you?” Azul glances at the textbook on the table, at an equal distance between them. “It’s almost like you wanted to give me this opportunity.”

“Uh, no—” Because he did come to study in peace, but at the same time, after two weeks he was beginning to get used to studying with Azul, so that may or may not have been a lie…

“It’s alright,” Azul says in a tone that sounds more mirthfully self-assured than soothing, “I understand. It’s better being with me than with your fellow Savanaclaw members, isn’t it?”

“…To some degree,” Davis admits begrudgingly. “At least if I want to get work done. Their studying ethics aren’t exactly anything worth bragging about, but I’m sure you know that.”

“All too well. So”—Azul gestures at his still-unopened textbook—“brushing up on spells, are we?”

Right, the textbook. “Not just brushing up, learning.” Davis flips it open to a bookmarked page in the more advanced section to prove his point.

Azul’s eyes light up a bit with interest. “Learning new ones? My, aren’t you ambitious.”

“No more than you are,” Davis fires back, more lightheartedly than he’d like to admit.

“Right, right.” Azul smiles and tilts his head. “So, what are you looking into?”

“Well… On top of practical magic, the juniors are also tested on certain elemental spells every year. I want to get them down to like second nature before then.”

“Oh, yes, the more complex spells needed to pass the magical combat class?”

“Yeah. To be honest, I’ve always been better at cosmic spells and it shows, so I really should practice at least a little…”

…and Davis, without realizing it, starts to lose track of time while discussing spells and such with Azul.

“…To be honest, it’s hard to generate a flame barrier strong enough that will block water spells…”

“That’s where the water manipulation comes into play, no? I recall seeing a returning senior turn the resulting steam into a barrier of its own…”

“Really? That’s… actually quite smart if you have a solid grasp over all elements, and it’d be good to have more variety with my magic…”

At some point, Chrysos returns quietly and sets Davis’ drink on the table before leaving as swiftly as he came. Azul slides it over and Davis takes it with a semblance of a second thought, continuing their little chat.

It isn’t until Azul’s fifteen-minute break is over and he has to get back to work that Davis realizes—

Ah.

He’s fallen right into Azul’s trap, hasn’t he? Somehow, at some point, his guard has already slipped a little…

…But for some reason, he can’t find it in himself to be that mad about it.

#kai's writing #twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #twst oc #davis jayme #chrysos pendentif #guys im not tagging all those other characters #but . yeah. although these two have known each other for a year by this point #they aren't necessarily well-known (at least personally) to each other bc thats just how they are #azul let go of profiting from davis a while back and davis also went out of his way to ignore azul at the time #but now they're starting to get to know each other more and #see themselves in each other !#vibrates. im normal abt my oc/canon ships (lying)

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