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#it is like handing everyone a piece of metal because they need it. and while some do something worthwhile with it. a few may choose to
empress-hancock · 3 months
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Something that I think is very important to keep in mind regarding the argument that “this objective observation can be used in a bad way so you shouldn’t say it” is something my archaeology professor brought up to our class a few years ago. She talked about how limiting that argument is to the spread of information, and she gave this example:
A team of anthropologists published a study discussing lactose intolerance and its relation to regions across the world. The fact was, many nations populated predominantly by non-white people had higher rates of lactose intolerance. They published this study as nothing more than an objective observation, and discussed the influence that the behaviors and eating habits of generations centuries before contributed to this modern day pattern. Some white supremacists then took this paper and started parading it around as “proof” that white people are superior.
The questions we must ask ourselves regrading this circumstance are as such; are the archaeologists at fault for publishing the study? Should they have kept it to themselves to prevent this? Are they responsible for predicting the responses to their study and taking steps to prevent any ridiculous claim made based on it? Is their publication of objective fact dangerous because other people with nefarious motivations may use it to their own advantage? And finally, how would withholding basic information simply because someone might attempt to twist it to uphold their chosen narrative affect the world and the spread of information as a whole?
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tacticaldiary · 10 months
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It All Comes Crashing Down
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
She presses the metal radio against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.
"I love you, Simon.
A/N: The classic 'bomb my location' fic you've all been waiting for! This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks, so I'm glad I finally got it out- I'm thinking about a part 2 where she wakes up and it's some extra fluff, maybe?
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She takes a shaky breath in as her hands grip her rifle tighter, but when she speaks her voice is as steady and firm as ever.
"Bomb my location."
The words are acrid on her tongue, but they feel right to her heart. Her mind is in disarray, trying to piece together any other solution that won't have her ending up under dead under pounds of rubble, but she knows deep down that there's no other way out of this.
An entire enemy organisation eliminated at the expense of one soldier.
It was a win-win for everyone but her.
And that was alright. She's made her peace with it, made it the moment she signed her name on those documents giving her life away to the tang of blood and the scent of gunsmoke.
"Level the building." She continues, wincing at another hail of fire that rains upon her. Heavy footsteps and orders barked in Russian move around her location. Steadily being surrounded, there was little hope for a smooth extraction or escape anyway. "Have Soap blow the charges, Captain. Then send in the airship and raze this hellhole to the ground."
"Like hell we're doing that." Gaz's voice comes through her comms, frustrated. "We're not leaving her, Price." They must have rendezvoused successfully, because Gaz doesn't speak through the comms, rather it sounds as if he's turning away his head to speak to the man directly.
It brings a small smile to her face despite the circumstances. Her boys would get out of this, at least.
Simon. Her mind flashes to her Simon and she thanks whoever's above that they had split up before everything went to shit.
It had been fine at first. She was setting the charges they needed to bring the building down while he fetched the intel from somewhere else, and really, she should have been suspicious when it all went smoothly.
She'd planted the last charge before the enemy started closing in.
Like rats, they seemed to emerge out of nowhere shooting her down and pinning her until she had no choice but to slip away and barricade herself in one of the nearby rooms. The entrance and exits were likely swarmed with people and here she sat, in the heart of it all.
Unreachable, untouchable.
She sort of tunes out the muted conversation on the other end, lets the ringing on her head take over. Loud angry cursing, yelling in distinctive Scottish, the harsh rasp of her Captain telling everyone to calm down...it all floats through her mind.
Everyone but Ghost.
She doesn't hear his voice...but he was alive, wasn't he? She'd seen him slip out of the building through the window in front of her, so she knows he must have gotten out. The thought makes her gut curl up, brings her back to the present.
"Negative, Sergeant." Price's voice cuts through her thoughts, much louder than the others. "We're mapping out a route to come get you-"
"Price, it'll be suicide." Perhaps it's the way her voice softens and quiets, the gentle way she talks so different from the harsh way she's spoken earlier. It's as if she's accepted it, is content to lay down and allow herself to be swallowed by the dirt she came from. "I'm one soldier. Don't make yourself visit more than one coffin."
"I'm going to-"
"Set off the charges."
There's a beat of silence, painstaking silence where nobody speaks. Even the gunfire outside the room she's barricaded in seems to fade out for a moment.
"Copy."
A death sentence coming from the man she considered family.
It cracks a smile out of her. She squeezes her eyes shut, lets her head fall against the blood spattered wall behind her.
"Make sure my replacement's just as much a pain in the ass to you, alright?" If the way her voice breaks at the end of her last sentence is noticed, it's not brought up. "Simon's gotta have someone to push around, yeah?"
"There's no replacing you."
There's arguing. Soap and Gaz are yelling, and it's startling because she's never heard either of them shout the way they are, at their Captain nonetheless.
It's comforting to know she was cared for, even if she's about to die.
A sudden bang on her door makes her jump. Muffled Russian filters through the old wood. Someone ramming at it with something, trying to break it down.
But it doesn't really matter, does it? She'll be going out on her own terms even if they find her now.
Ghost...Simon. Where was he? If there was one thing that'd settle her mind right now it'd be hearing that gravelly voice, even if it was merely yelling at her, telling her how stupid it was to suggest what she has.
A desperation claws at her chest, deep down. She wants Simon, wants to spend the night in his bed again, wants to hug him, feel his skin, wants to see those rare smiles of his one more time.
Just once.
Just one more time before she-
"Charges setting off in 5-"
How cruel was the world?
She hopes Simon knows that she didn't mean to leave him. That she wanted him to go on without her, to not fall into the void of 'what-if's.' It wasn't his fault.
Her eyes burn but she refuses to let out the helpless sob clawing its way up her throat. She wants...she wants so much. Wants to do so much more, wants to live, and breathe and smile and laugh and experience and live. Simon. She wants to tell him so much more.
If she could go back in time and fill their silences with all the words she wants him to know right now, she'd do it in a heartbeat.
It's an impulsive decision, how her hand shoots up to grab at her radio frantically. Switching it to the private line between just the two of them, she presses the metal against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.
"I love you, Simon."
The ground crumbles beneath her, the world turns to black.
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Slipping out of the small shed, he tucks the papers into his vest. For a multi-national organisation, they sure were stupid as hell when hiding their intel.
Scanning the grounds for any movement, Ghost moves out, keeping to the shadows until he reaches the edge of the field that morphed into the woods farther down.
"Intel secured, moving to rendezvous point now." He says into his comms. He frowns when he doesn't get an answer back, grabbing his radio and speaking again, casting a glance back into the foliage in the distance where he knows the others have staked their place to operate from.
Price, Gaz, and Soap were operating remotely, dealing with drones and distant detonation devices, whereas the other two had infiltrated the building separately.
Plant the charges and secure the intel. Simple tasks made difficult when they both realised that the intel wasn't in the building, but instead in the shed attached to the side of the complex instead. Splitting up had been the most logical thing to do, even when Ghost had refused at first.
"It'll be fine. Quick and easy, right?" She'd told him with a grin. "Get that intel before I'm out of the building and maybe I'll give you an extra treat when we get back." Ghost had rolled his eyes at her suggestive wink.
"Does anyone copy?" He says into the object. He's met with nothing but muffled crackling and garbled speech, tinny and indecipherable. Ghost scowls at the machine, ripping it off of his vest and turning it over. It crackles and pops with bursts of sound but nothing cohesive enough to interpret
"I-...ou...Simon"
"Fucking thing's busted." He mumbles to himself, shoving the item back into his vest, his hand brushing against the folder of intel he's successfully recovered from the shed attached to the main building.
He can spot one of the convoy vehicles near the edge of the woods, but he doesn't let his guard down even as he crosses the field towards it.
Ghost barely takes a step through the dead grass before the building behind him goes up in an explosion that makes even him unsteady with the force of it. Flames lick up the east side of the massive structure and Ghost takes a second to watch as it crumbles in on itself sending up clouds of dust and debris.
Good fucking riddance.
He's looking forward to getting the hell out of this place once he rendezvous with everyone else. This mission had stretched on for far longer than it should have, the elusive bastards slipping away through their fingers time and time again with dirty, underhanded tactics.
The foliage grows thicker as he steps into the woods, rifle at the ready. A click of a safety had him raising his weapon and spinning around immediately.
When he sees a very familiar mohawk, however, he lowers his weapon instantly. "Blue!" He says loudly, bringing up a hand to half Soap. "Just me, Johnny."
Soap follows suit and lowers his weapon, his shoulders visibly relaxing the tiniest bit. "Welcome back." He says, but something about his voice makes Ghost uneasy. "Price and...and the others are prepping exfil." He gestures towards the clearing.
"Everyone else made it back?" He asks as they push through the meager trees and into the open space where soldiers are rushing around tying up loose ends.
"Aye." Soap chokes out.
Ghost would question it, but he's too busy doing a sweep of the clearing, putting names to faces. Price and Gaz were there, going back and forth over something. It strikes him a little odd how furious Gaz looks, Price looking so resigned but he pushes it away in favour of catching a glimpse of the person he's more inclined to spot.
"We tried what we could, but she was pinned down." Soap breaks the silence, misinterpreting the reason behind his silent staring at Gaz and Price. "We didn't...Laswell's insisting immediate evac, but Gaz wants to at least find a body to bury." A bitter laugh that makes Ghost's stomach drop like a stone.
"What?"
Soap rakes a bloody hand through his hair, shakes his head, and continues on like he's in some sort of shock. "I don't want to. I think she'd rather us leave her buried there than dig out bits and pieces and bury her again." His voice cracks.
Bury...?
There's only one woman in their team.
There's only one person he hasn't accounted for in the clearing.
There's only one person he hasn't reached on his comms before they broke.
The world spins, his mind screams and falls silent, a crescendo of noise and denial. The ground shifts beneath his feet, rocking him into a state that makes him feel like he's walking on string.
"MacTavish." His words are so calm and even, it's eerie. "Is my girl still in the building?" He feels detached from himself, perhaps a way to distance himself from the pain of the implied.
Soap looks at him for a long moment, then croaks out one, broken word.
"Was."
And it all comes crashing down.
He's been through torture before. Had his skin marred, his fingernails torn off, been hung from his ribs but nothing, nothing has ever come close to the way his heart twists.
Nothing had ever made him panic in a way that has his throat closing up.
"Christ." Johnny breathes, and it's a sound that drags him back from the brink of something horrible. Soap's eyes are fixed on the empty spot on his vest that holds his radio on normal days, horrified. "You didn't bloody know." He states.
Wasting time answering is useless. Talking, speaking breathing is useless because not a moment later Ghost is sprinting towards the rubble.
The rubble that he had just watched fallen. The building he'd stood there and watched fall down, had felt pride and relief in seeing.
His gear digs into him, the air thickens with smoke and dust but he doesn't stop. Vaguely he hears people yelling after him, hears Price and Gaz and Soap and every other motherfucker who stood by and detonated the charges. Friend or foe it didn't matter to him right now. If someone dared to get in his way he'd mow them all down, grind them into nothing and keep going.
They blew the charges.
The airship would be here any minute to finish the job.
No, he'd get to her by then. Ghost slams down into the ground somewhere near where they split off. He'd find her by then, and he'd bring her back, bring her to medical and she'd be fine in a week or two.
There was no other fucking option.
The debris rakes off the fabric of his gloves, splits the skin on his fingertips as he hauls and pushes and pulls and digs through stone and metal and wood, leaving evidence of his efforts in the form of his own blood behind.
She had to be okay.
Not her. Not like his mother, not like his brother, not like his nephew.
Not her.
He digs, calls out her name until his voice is hoarse, pulls away piece after piece of rubble until his fingers are torn to shreds.
Just as he hears the sounds of incoming aircraft, he spots something that makes the knot in his chest slam against his ribcage in pure and utter terror.
It's been a while since Simon has felt fear this pure.
Hair that he's familiar with, strands that he's gripped and gently soothes his fingers through peek out from under the piece of metal he's just lifted.
Unable to breathe, his attempts at moving the earth increase tenfold. He picks off stone after stone, brick after brick until more of her body is uncovered. Still, unmoving, bleeding. Once he's gotten her top half free, he hesitates for one horrible moment because what if he looks down to see a still chest?
Steeling himself, he bites the bullet and curls an arm around her waist, pulling her out of the debris.
The relief that slams into him when he feels her shallow, breaths against his palm is almost enough to send him to his knees.
"I've got you, love." He mumbles, half to himself as he adjusts her in his arms. She's dead weight, pulse barely there but present.
Cuts and bruises, Ghost can name at least five lacerations and countless other places she's bleeding from, a broken arm, leg, and who knows what kind of internal bleeding.
Alive.
But still alive.
And that was enough because like hell Ghost was going to let the one good thing in his life slip through his fingers ever again. He'd drag whoever he needed to her aid, he'd go to hell and back just to make sure she got to open her eyes again.
With limps that ache and a heart that's heavy, he quickly moves them out of the rubble, just in time to see two aircraft circling their location. They hadn't dropped any explosives yet, which a far part of Simon's brain thinks might be Price's doing.
Uncaring of whoever was watching, because frankly everyone could fuck off right now and it would be preferable, Ghost presses his lips to her hair as he moves into the clearing with her.
"Medic!" He barks out. "Right fucking now!"
He ignores Gaz's strangled gasp, ignores the way the entire team approaches them and tries to help. Ghost is a little concerned that if he let the adrenaline that's pumping through his veins go, he might just collapse as well, and that was unacceptable at the moment.
A weak hand grasps at the front of his vest, his eyes snapping immediately to her at the movement.
"S...'mon?" She says, words so faint he barely hears them?
"I'm here." He confirms, pressing his face to her hair harder. "I've got you, darling." He whispers. "I've got you."
It soothes her, because she nods against him and lets herself relax. It's only then that Simon notices she's holding something in her good hand in a deathly tight grip.
Upon closer inspection, it's a radio.
"I-...ou...Simon"
Fucking hell. His grip on her tightens.
She'd been trying to contact him in what she thought were her last moments, and he'd never have known because his fucking radio was broken.
It doesn't matter, he tells himself, chants it over and over again in his mind. He's got her again, and like hell is he ever letting go now.
When the medics bring out a stretcher, Price has to talk him into letting her go down into him, practically ordering him to let the bloody medics do their jobs. He doesn't stray far, however, keeping a hand on her at all times. Sat next to where they were working on her in the helicopter back, never once do his eyes stray from her unconscious form.
She wakes up once or twice, whines, and fights against the medic's hands with a panic-induced haze. Every time Simon is there, holding her hand, muttering rough, soothing praise and assurances.
It calms her down immediately, the trust in those far away pain-addled eyes when they meet his is enough to make his heart twist.
Simon stays with her the entire time, and then takes residence in a seat next to her hospital bed on base, ready for when she wakes up.
Hell would freeze over before Simon would ever let them be apart again.
If that makes him selfish, then so be it.
Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!
(12/08/2023)
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jojissalsa · 7 months
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husband!leon drabble
hear me out, cause i have an idea :3 (yes this is a drabble but also kinda long...)
cw: housewife kink, very slight condescension, praise, oral, breeding kink, ya get the gist. (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)
i cannot get my mind off husband!leon, like... at all, i feel like he'd love to pamper you. you need your hair trimmed? when and where. going somewhere special? he'll immediately take you shopping. his favorite is when you wanna get your nails done, he'll just hand you that sleek black credit card. i mean, it's not like he doesn't have the money. he has to deal with the worst horrors this shitty world could conjure up, so all he wants at the end of the day is to see your pretty smile.
it's all he can think about at work. everyone notices how distracted he seems, constantly checking his phone for possible pictures or any kind of update. he's so glad he doesn't have much work to do that day, so he can be home before you. and when you finally unlock the door he has to stop himself from running to you like an excited dog happy to see his owner.
and you know he's excited, as much as he tries to hide it as you walk over to the couch where he's sitting, plopping down right next to him and nuzzling into his side. "you like 'em?" you hold out your hand, a smug smirk on your face as he takes your hand. "it's pretty.." he whispers in awe, a loving expression on your face. usually he's the type to wanna lay on your chest, having your nails graze his scalp so he can finally relax. he knows you love it too, like he's a big lap dog you can watch movies with.
he feels a lil different tonight though, maybe he's just pent up, but all he can think about is your pretty, delicate hand wrapped around his cock, your lipstick smeared around your mouth and making rings on the length of his cock. and you know he's thinking about something, because he moves his hand up yours before grabbing your wrist and pressing your palm against his cock.
"feel that? that's what you do to me, so damn sweet. you and that needy cunt is all i can think about. c'mere, wanna see those pretty hands jerk me off." you don't waste any time moving your head into his lap as he pulls down his sweats, your hands finding their place at the base of his cock and cupping his balls, your tongue already lapping at his tip, savoring the taste of his pre-cum. he looks so fucking hot like this, legs spread, arm resting on the back of the couch while his hand moves down your back and under your leggings, determined to feel more of you. you're always such a good girl when you sink your mouth lower on his cock, tip hitting the back of your throat which makes his hips buck and his head tilt back as he groans.
"i got so lucky, pretty wife that knows how to suck dick. so eager for me to touch you, huh? need my fingers to fill up that tight pussy, don't you, honey? can't answer with a mouthful of cock, can you?" leon can never help himself, he has to be a little smug, because he landed such a hot piece of ass and he's more than confident about you belonging to him completely. how you stop everything you're doing to please him. how can he not pay back the favor? he pulls your leggings down to your thighs along with your panties, coating his fingers in your slick before slipping his fingers inside your welcoming pussy. you clench around his thick fingers when you feel the cold metal of his wedding band, and it only makes him smile wider.
like i said, he really does love to pamper you. make you feel pretty all the time, because you are. you may not think you are all the time, but he sure as shit does. pretty enough to carry his baby, too. "such a pretty girl, you'd look even more beautiful with my baby inside you." you whimper around his cock, pulling your head up to stroke him so you can catch your breath. "like that one, hmm? you always walk around looking like a fucking milf, so damn sexy with those tight jeans and cute heels i buy for you." you knew he was a family man, wanted at least two kids, but damn he did not have to make the idea sound that fucking hot.
and you let him, he could give you a whole bloodline and you'd do it with a smile. letting him fuck his huge load of cum into your tight cunt, those pretty nails digging into his back as your legs keep him pumping his cum inside you. "atta girl, can't wait to see that pregnancy test. gonna keep you here and take good care of you, promise." he lets you come back down to reality as he leans up, getting a good view of your blissed out smile, humming contently as you look up at him. "you won't have to lift a single finger with me around, trust me."
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astaroth1357 · 6 months
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Flipping the Script: Leviathan Meet-Cute (Human World AU)
So what if you met the demon boys in the human world instead? You’re not magic. You’re not special. You’re an average little human that came crashing into some demons one day. Good luck!
Contents: Pretty new format for me, second person (you), forgive any wonkiness
Part One (You are here), Part Two, Part Three (Coming Soon...)
~♡♡♡~
You’re a hardcore otaku influencer with a niche in creating and sharing cosplay. You’ve befriended a lot of other enthusiasts pursuing your passions, but there was one guy that you met at a recent convention that stood out from all of the rest.
The Seven Lords was just having yet another milestone anniversary, so several friends in your circle all decided to get together and do a group cosplay for the fans, you all were even offered space for a panel and locations for meet-and-greets! Your whole fanbase was ecstatic, and so were you, but there was just one problem…
The friend that agreed to be your Third Lord backed out at the last minute! His baggage was totally lost on the flight there and suddenly your whole group was without a member to complete the set. Though you knew it wasn’t a huge deal, you hated to disappoint your fans who were looking for a full group photo-op…
But then you saw this guy waiting around your hotel lobby-
“I can't believe Wess had to cancel on us…!” You thought to yourself while tapping your foot furiously against the hotel's linoleum floor. You were waiting for check-in last night when your collaborator sent his text to everyone, and your team still hadn’t found a suitable replacement… How could you guys have a TSL photo event without a Lord of Shadows?? Especially when you're the one dressed as Henry! What self-respecting group TSL cosplay doesn’t have those two together?? They're the closest pair in the show! The Sun and Shadow shippers were going to start a riot…
You were all still double-checking your gear and supplies down in the lobby. Months of work had gone into planning and prepping for this event… Your friends were trying to calm you down as best as they could, but your nerves weren’t on your side… You hated letting down your fans, even if it was entirely out of your control. But without a replacement, what exactly could you do? Just as you were about to throw in the towel and get dressed, a bunch of shouting from the hallway entrance caught your attention.
“Why the hell am I stuck carryin’ all your crap, huh Levi?! Ya got two working hands!”
“Because this outfit is heavy, Mam-er-Malcom! I need help, or else I'll get sweaty and gross!”
“You're already gross, so what's it matter?”
“Shut up, scumbag!!”
'Yeesh, what a loud pair...' You turned to look their way with a visible frown to show your annoyance only for your jaw hit the floor. Two men walked out of the hall and into the lobby, one being a dark-skinned male with the whitest hair you'd ever seen, and the other… Sweet kami-sama above, the other guy…!!
He. Was. Perfect!! The dark, shadowy armor, constructed fron what you could only guess was EVA foam and faux furs, combined with his violet hair made him look like the spitting image of the Third Lord! It was almost like the character himself had climbed off the page!! You had to cover your mouth to contain an audible gasp of shock while glancing at the others in your team. Only a few of your friends had noticed the man's arrival, but those who had all shot you back the same kind of look, “Go get that guy. NOW!” Who were you to refuse?
The god-tier Third Lord cosplayer was still arguing with his companion when you first made your approach, allowing you to sneak up pretty close without getting noticed. By the time you were in speaking distance, you were already marveling at the craftsmanship of his cosplay up close. The foam pieces looked flawlessly metallic and there were no patches of hot glue mishaps, frayed stitching, or painting mistakes. It was truly something else!
“Hey, what'cha gawkin’ at??”
The white-haired male caught you red-handed, leading the cosplayer in his company to turn in your direction. Though, amusingly, the moment your eyes met he seemed just as star struck as you were. You wasted no time thrusting your hand out towards him with your most “camera-winning” smile.
“Hi! Uhm, I’m Y/n L/n and I'm-"
“-the most popular cosplay model on Instagram, three-time champion of the WCS competitions, and the host of the ‘TSL Today’ fan podcast-!”
You froze from surprise as the cosplayer slapped his mouth shut with his own hand in a bid to stop rambling. His cheeks instantly tinged pink as he must have realized that he was spitting your own resume at you in excitement. It was hard not to feel a bit flattered at the sudden eruption of joy, so you smiled back more genuinely.
“That’s right! You've heard of me?”
You waited for his response with a patient, maybe even endeared, gaze. Seeing that you weren’t immediately weirded out by his hyped babbling, he uncovered his mouth to respond shyly.
“Y-yeah, of course I do…! I uh… came here to see your meet-and-greet today…”
He winced, face getting hotter, and looked like he wanted to double over from embarrassment, but honestly, you couldn’t have been happier. A creator of THIS caliber was one of YOUR fans?? Talk about a “diamond in the rough” moment!
“Really? That’s awesome!! Because I couldn’t help but notice that cosplay you're wearing… Did you make it yourself?”
How his face recalibrated from flustered to ecstatic in just a few seconds could have made your heart melt. After he confirmed that his cosplay was his own handiwork you began to gush about the design, asking rapid-fire questions about the materials he bought, what patterns he found, and his different sewing techniques. You both were so caught up in each other's passion that you hardly even registered the other guy standing next to him until he finally cleared his throat insistently.
“Yo Levi… This crap’s gettin’ heavy. Are we going or what?”
The cosplayer, who you guessed was Levi, turned to the man reluctantly, which sent a surge of panic through you as you still hadn’t asked him to stay.
“Wait!!”
Both men flinched a bit at your sudden exclamation, making your cheeks flush with color, but you pressed on regardless,
“Um, Levi right? My team and I could use your help… Our Third Lord just dropped out on us today because of baggage troubles and we really need a replacement for the shoot. Your outfit is fantastic! Do you think that you could step into the role for us? I have early access badges to the vendors room, so we can take a look together if that uh… if that…? Um. Levi...?”
The man in front of you looked like he was moments away from breaking down in tears, but somehow holding them back through sheer force of will… and his closed eyelids making a decent dam.
“H-hold on… I think I need to pinch myself because this can’t be happening. Is this actually happening?”
His voice wobbled while the man next to him, Malcolm(?), rolled his eyes behind his gold-tinted glasses.
“Hey, that doesn’t answer their questions, ya know?” He elbowed Levi while looking at you with a serious expression, “Are ya willin’ to take him AND his stuff with ya?”
“Of course! It’s important to have everything while yo-”
“Great. You can have’em.”
You were taken aback just a bit by the speed of his response, but not as much as Levi because he quickly leapt back into the conscious world in a panic!
“Wha-wh-Whaah?? You can’t just answer for me!!”
Malcolm shrugged his shoulders, letting several bags he had on slide to the ground but cushioning the fall a bit with his foot.
“Why not? It’s clear ya wanna go with them. Unless you wanna leave them hangin'…”
“N-No!! I mean, yes! No-er UGH!”
You watched Levi cover his face in frustration feeling a twinge of sympathy. Does he get tongue-tied like this often? After a few seconds to compose himself, he finally straightened up to give his true response.
“Y-yes, I want to go with you…! Being able to help one of your online idols is like a dream come true for any fan! What can I do to help?”
You could feel your smile grow twice as wide from the combination of relief and gratitude. Maybe the shoot would go alright after all…
“Give me your hand.”
Levi stuttered watching you reach your hand out towards his, using your other one to pull out a black marker that you always kept on your person for fans. His skin was soft, but strangely cold, when he rested his knuckles into your upturned palm. The icy jolt even made you jump a bit. Holy crap, was he cold-blooded or something?? When he flashed you a concerned glance, you quickly recovered uncapped the marker between your fingers. With years of built up practice, you ran the black ink over his pale skin, but instead of a signature, you left one of your burner numbers that you used for interacting with collaborators.
“Here. We still need a bit of time to get ready, but that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the con. Text me your name and I'll send you back where to meet up once we're ready to go.”
Levi was staring at the black marks on his hand like you'd just handed him a key item in a video game when one of your team shouted back from behind you.
“Y/n! Why aren’t you dressed yet?? We gotta go!”
“Shit, I’m coming!” You turned to head back, but you spared just a second to smile at Levi over your shoulder. “Thank you so much, Levi, you're going to be a huge help! Don't forget to text.”
“I won’t!”
Levi's promise made you grin lift even higher. With a wink and a wave, you made your way back to the others with a brand new pep in your step. Mission, saved!!
Meanwhile…
“… Did ya seriously just score a number in that getup?”
“I swear, I’ll never wash this hand again...!!”
“Fuck's sake, Levi, stop being so gross! At least put it in your phone before your sweaty palms wipe it off!”
“Gah, you're right!!”
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chaosandmarigolds · 2 months
Text
(clears throat) ahem, I have a little dribble drabble cause I needed to fully write it out cause I'm in a silly goofy mood
“Hey- Tinker bell. Tink.” 
Reluctantly you left your gaze on the obscure piece of metal, which you thought may be from a carburetor you weren’t sure though, that you had been given by your Liuetnatnt (and you were beginning to think he gave it to you just to shut you up) and you look at the Scotsman that sat across from you on the workbench. It was barely four in the morning, and while he had just woken up for his morning…whatever, you had been up the entire night, with the pile of paperwork the captain had you doing and a routine maintenance you procrastinated with; an all-nighter was the only option. 
So when the ‘boys’ (a term you not so lovingly adopted for the unit) woke up you were met with a few grumpy grumbles and one very awake man, somehow the sight of them triggered a second wind so you ended up going on a forty-minute tangent about LTV’s to your Lieutenant, who- now you realize- grabbed a random piece of metal and asked you what it was. Clever, because it had shut you up but mildly infuriating. With a sleepy stare, you look at Johnny, “No.” 
“No what?” He quipped back. 
“No callsigns, I don’t want one, don’t need one...” 
You hear a small stifled laugh and then Kyle’s voice is heard from what you assumed was inside on of the trucks, “Too late for that.” 
To those words you spin to face the truck, pretending to be unfazed by Kyle sitting on the hood of it, happily sipping what you assumed to be an energy drink of some sort. “The fuck does that mean?” 
“Means er’ a Tinker bell, ‘ever that is.” Out of all the people you expected to be in on this you didn’t expect your Luietant, so when he spoke up from where he was looking through the files you had just turned in you shot him a glare. 
“Like from Peter Pan.” You speak slowly and look back at Johnny, who seemed oddly content with himself. 
“Well more ‘o ‘cause she does lot ‘o thin’s with her hands, ya’know? Like she-she built tha’ boat in the one fairie mo’ie.” 
At the very least everyone's attention wasn’t on you anymore, because as soon as Johnny spoke everyone looked at him. Through the harsh lighting and even though the mask made his eyes look more like voids of nothingness, you could see Ghost’s eyes narrow to his friend’s oblivious expression, meanwhile, Kyle didn’t try to hide his confused yet amused stare. 
You move to look at the man and lean forward, “Johnny, I didn’t know you had sisters.” 
“Yeah, got two lil’- oh.”
yeah thats it, <3
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rebelliousstories · 1 month
Text
Rock A Bye Baby
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Infirtility, Violence, Strong Language
Word Count: 1,937
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: Two hundred years seems like a long time, but there is somethings that never change; no matter how much time had passed.
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“Janey, we gotta get to school! Come on, little lady.” A woman yelled from downstairs in the kitchen. She plated some fruit on the remainder of the plates before moving them to the dining table. Someone came up behind her and placed their hands on her hips.
“This looks good, sweetheart. And the food isn’t half bad either.” Cooper chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She giggled and let herself relax into his arms for just a bit.
“Such a flatterer, Coop. Now go get that daughter of yours and bring her in for breakfast. She has a test today.” Sending her lover off, she made her way to the table and finished setting it up just in time for her two favorite people in the world to come down the stairs. Right before she got in her chair, she was tackled by a little bundle of energy.
“Oof, you are getting strong, baby. Come on and eat your breakfast, Janey. Then we can go to school.” She nudged the young girl in the direction of the plate she set aside for her. Watching Janey tuck into her meal, the woman smiled as she did the same. Her husband was sitting next to her and also ate his breakfast with a grin. Once everyone was done, she quickly ran around to tidy up before they grabbed their things.
“Come on, Janey. Let’s get going so daddy can drop us off at school. Okay?” And with that, Cooper was more than happy to be their chauffeur for the morning to take his daughter to learn, and his wife to work. The drive there was a relatively short affair, full of loud singing from the passenger and back seat as the radio was cranked loud. Parking in a spot, Cooper leaned over and kissed his wife goodbye as she took her step-daughter in for her school day.
That was a little over two hundred years ago, and everything changed.
Now, there was no more days at school. No more drives in the countryside or taking Janey to her mother’s house because of the visitation. Now it was navigating a nuclear wasteland for two hundred years.
They had been on the move for a couple days now. Very little was causing them to stop, and that was how they liked it. The couple functioned better on the move. Never allowing themselves to get comfortable in one place for long. But the town they were on their way to was known for big bounties. And they truly needed a bounty to replenish their caps after buying a bunch of RadAway.
“You go inside. I’m gonna stay out here for a moment.” She said, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder briefly before passing him in favor of seeing what stall were available.
Cooper just nodded and left to collect the job he did not care to much what she was going to while he was inside. She could take care of herself. When he exited the shop, he spotted her at a stall with different types of wears. He distinctly remembered her talking about how she needed a new undershirt and possibly some new boots. It all passed quickly, and there they went off again.
The couple walked all around the area, utilizing Cooper’s tracking skills to the fullest of the extent. If they got this done quickly, that meant more caps. Leaning over to look at something in the dirt, a chain slipped out from her new undershirt. Cooper instantly recognized the ring looped through the metal and unconsciously placed a hand over the matching piece hovering over his chest. Even after all this time,he was glad one thing had remained the same. It was probably what made surviving the Wastelands easier.
“Hey baby! Come here.” The Ghoul walked over to his partner, and looked at where she was pointing. A blood trail. Kneeling, he stuck a finger in before tasting the dark red liquid, and spitting out the sand.
“He’s close. Let’s move.” His voice clipped as he took off to follow the trail. Ever the faithful wife, she followed close behind. By the time the sun had set, they still had more trail to track, but no light to do it by. So the couple found themselves stationed in the middle of a junkyard with a roaring fire. She rested her head on his chest and felt his arms around her shoulders, drawing her in closer.
“Wait, do you hear that?” She peaked her head up, and waited to see if she could hear it again. Cooper went to say something but she just shushed him. She heard it again; this time louder.
“What the hell is that?” She got up and followed the sound of the noise before her husband could stop her.
“Damnit woman. Slow down.” He grumbled, following after her with a scowl. She continued to follow the source of the noise, never wavering in her pursuit. It took a couple of turns, and a few trips from the uneven terrain, but she eventually found the source. A moving bundle of blankets were placed on top of a barrel.
“The hell you doin’ woman?” Cooper finally caught up to where his wife had stopped and paused over the same bundle that she was hovered over.
“Oh look at them, Coop.” She cooed, picking up the wiggling bundle. In her arms was a baby.
“I wonder what you are. You can’t be more than a few weeks old.” The baby was tucked securely against her body as she rearranged the blankets to see what the baby was clothed in.
“Oh you’re a baby girl. So cute with those chubby cheeks.” Her finger stroked over her face, and felt her heart swell when the babe wrapped her chunky little hand around it.
“Now, don’t you go gettin’ attached to that thing.” Cooper looked to his wife, and then down at the small human in her arms.
“Coop, she’s so small and defenseless. We can’t just leave her here.” She countered, already moving to leave the area where the child was abandoned.
“No. No, no, no. Now what we ain’t gonna do is keep the damn thing.” He followed her through the path all the while her arms were occupied.
“Oh relax, beau. I ain’t leaving her.” Making their way back to their little campsite, she sat down a little closer to the fire and held the babe close. She retired the blankets around and tried to find something to give her for her hunger.
“You just gonna get attached to the thing and it’s not gonna survive.” He commented, sitting back down in his seat but not draping his arm over her again. She grabbed her canteen and dribbled a little bit of water to her lips.
“Need to find some formula when we get into town tomorrow.” It was just a little side comment, one that she did not even realize that she had said.
“Already told you, we ain’t keepin’ it.” Cooper grumbled, placing his head over his eyes.
“Coop, she’s just a little girl.” She replied, but her husband did not. Whenever the little girl in her arms slept, she caught a brief moment of shut eye too. The sun came up, and woke her husband who looked well rested.
“Is that thing still here?” He asked, looking over at his wife with a sleeping baby in her arms.
“Yes she is,” a yawn broke up her words. Her eyes were a bit hazy and tired, but she was aware of enough to continue going. Packing up their things, she had to navigate everything with the child in her arms. Her husband was grumbling the entire way about being slowed down, and how he did not want the child to travel with them. But as they continued to follow the trail, the baby stayed quiet, and stayed asleep.
There was something interesting about having the baby with them. Even if he refused to admit it, Cooper found himself extra protective of the child in his wife’s arms. It took him back to when Janey was a baby; how small and defenseless she was. Always relying on her parents for everything. When they found the target, he held a hand up to stop them.
“Stay here.” He whispered, ducking around the corner. Howard saw the trail of blood, but no body was around. It was not until he heard his wife scream, and a thud followed by the sounds of bones breaking. He whipped around to find their target on the ground, and his wife with a baby still in her arms, kicking the man wherever she could. The target’s jaw was definitely broken, and she was trying to at least shatter the knees of the man who kept trying to get up. Unhooking the lasso, Cooper wrangled the large man onto his knees, before turning to the two females next to hm.
“Y’all alright now?” Cooper turned his attention to the babe in her arms, before checking on his wife.
“Yeah. We’re all good, Coop. Let’s go turn that bounty in.” She stated, determined to get back to the town. The man picked up their bounty and began to march them into the town the had received the hit from.
“You know, you checked on her first before checking on me. Never done that before.” She commented, shielding the child from the sun with her cloak. Cooper smirked as he kept his eye on the prisoner in front of them.
“Well, maybe she is alright. Ain’t like she ever done anything that deserves bein’ left in this god forsaken desert. You gotta take care o’ her, but you can keep ‘er.” He drawled, letting his eyes wander to the child before looking at the love in his wife’s eyes.
“Didn’t realize you ghouls could even have children. Who would want to be raised by a couple of mutants?” Their bounty snarled under his breath. Loud enough that she felt self-conscious, and loud enough that Cooper felt rage. In the blink of an eye, he had blown a hole through the man’s shoulder, who dropped to his knees screaming.
“Now,” Cooper caught up to him and tightened the rope around his body, “you ever talk about my wife like that again, I ain’t gonna miss and hit your shoulder.”
He let the man go, dragged him back up to his feet, and made him walk yet again. Cooper fell back where his wife was now suddenly silent.
“Don’t listen to the shit he says darlin’. You’re as fine a momma as I ever did see.” He reassured her with a quick pat to her back.
“What if he’s right, Coop? I mean, maybe two hundred years ago we were good parents. Well, you were. Me… I was never able to be a mom.” She looked to the baby in her arms with a mournful gaze.
“This is your chance to do it again. Just cause it ain’t your by blood don’t mean it ain’t yours.” Once more, Cooper kept his voice down while he reassured his wife. She looked towards him, searching his eyes for any sign of a lie, yet found nothing. Silently, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and continued onward. Cooper knew that their captive was far too focused on his own shoulder and pain to notice their interaction, but watching her with that baby, made him think about if they just had more time all those years ago; could they have found a way to have children?
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months
Note
hi! i would like to request kaz brekker x fem!reader where kaz is feeling a lot of pain on his bad leg and reader massages it for him. established relationship please. thank you in advance!
The salve
You could tell that Kaz’s leg had been bothering him for a while now. With the weather changing and the rain pouring down for the second week now, the humidity was atrocious for joints. So Kaz limped and grunted through it. Being in a way worse mood than usual. Meaning that everyone who was around him was catching a handful of snarky remarks for anything. Even breathing too loudly.
You gathered a play of food for him downstairs adding extras so you both could share. He hadn’t been down even once today. Kaz said he was just busy with work but you could tell from the way he was tossing and turning the previous night. He simply couldn’t walk downstairs. The pain had gotten that bad but of course he didn’t show it. His cold mask didn’t slip even once.
Pushing the door open with your hip you walked into your shared room. Smiling at him the moment your eyes locked. Kaz’s eyes caught that spark too but his face stayed stone cold. “You didn’t need to bring it up”, he grunted, turning a page over. “But I did”, you chirped in response, moving to yank that same document out of his grip as you lowered the plate in its place, “Push the chair back and eat”.
Kaz frowned slightly. “Also, take your pants off”, you add with a wave of your hand. “You are confusing me, woman. Why would I eat dinner without my pants?”, Kaz huffed, snatching a piece of roasted potatoe. “Kaz Brekker take your pants off”, you said firmly once more. Keeping his gaze. “Multitasking has never been my favorite thing”, he huffed in frustration but still stood with a grunt, holding onto a table for support. Stoping to breathe. “Let me help you”, you reach for the zipper but he bats your hands away. “I’m not some immobile fool”, he hisses in annoyance. “Kaz, you might think that you can fool me but you’re an idiot here”, you catch his hand placing it on the table so he can hold his weight up while you undo his pants with ease.
“It doesn’t even hurt”, he argues but you only lift your eyebrow at him as you look up at him, “Fine, maybe a little but I don’t need you undressing me”. You only hum as you guide him back down into the chair. Those couple minutes alone were enough to make sweat break out on his forehead. You reach into your pocket, the metal jar of salve gleaming in the low light.
“Where did you get that?”, Kaz asks firmly and you know that you didn’t even need to answer. He knows himself. The stamp on the lid says enough. “Don’t tell me that you went there without me knowing”, you can hear the frustration in his tone. The slumps here had been crowding with new arrivals lately. Arrivals that had been enjoying killing people as of late so Kaz had forbidden you to go there.
“It was quick”, you breathe out, warming the mixture between your fingers. “They can also kill you quickly. Asked for that too?”, Kaz grunted but your fingers pressed on his legs, and his whole body went ridged. “Fuck”, he hissed. “I’m sorry”, you pushed your finger into the knots and stiff muscles. Feeling it gives in. “This will help. The healers are from my old village. You’ll be able to walk tomorrow”, muttering you continued to work your hands all over.
“Not worth it if it puts you in danger”, Kaz argued, his head lulled back. “I would do it again”, you shrugged. “That’s the scary part”, he turned to look at you. The tension in his body already melting away. “Any better?”, you question him, moving to bend his leg through the knee a couple of times. “I would say yes but because you were reckless, I’ll say no”, the side of his lips turned upward and you bit your lip, “What I shame, guess I’ll have to massage your legs some more”, “Guess so”, Kaz shrugged, reaching for a piece of meat pie before guiding the fork to your lips.
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dearanakin · 21 days
Text
trust you - Anakin Skywalker x f! reader
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Summary: You work as a tech for the Jedi Temple and end up having to fix Anakin's robotic arm, once again. He starts having trust issues when she and his son, Luke Skywalker, become close to each other.
Warning: Angst, hurt, mentions of injury, cursing | Ps: Luke is his only child in this story. Anakin doesn't become a Sith (for now hehe)
Word count: 1.7k
*
Anakin arrived in the tech room with a frown plastered over his face, as always. His cheekbone was bloody and his metal arm was loose as well as malfunctioning.
She was sitting on her table, writing down on a piece of paper when his name was announced. She turned her head around and watched as he silently sat down on a chair across from her. One of her droids excused itself, leaving them both alone.
Anakin had his blank stare at some random point in the room, not bothering to look at her, who dragged the chair closer to him. (Y/N) gently grabbed his metallic arm, looking at the prosthetic.
"What happened this time?" She asked, trailing his limb. He still didn't look at her, or even mentioned to do so. "Tough assignment today?"
He sighed, rubbing off the dripping blood from his chin as he tried to close his fake fist. The motion failed, and he pulled his fingertips as he's supposed to feel the touch.
"Got a blast shot on it" His husky voice was almost a whisper, she nodded. When (Y/N) looked at again, she noticed how tired he looked. He had bags under his eyes and his forehead seemed to have more wrinkles to it.
She nodded and got up looking for her tools. It wasn't actually strange for her to fix his arm, because this wasn't her first time doing it. Maybe it wasn't even her first time seeing him coming back from a mission all beaten up.
Sometimes, he would look less upset or mad. But it was hard to decipher how he was feeling because Anakin was a pro at hiding his emotions ever since he lost his love interest. Perhaps having Luke around him would make him seem less disturbed, but also, having a kid wasn't easy for him.
(Y/N) took a closer look and noticed the robotic articulations were almost melting. It was going to take a while and she was afraid of telling him the bad news. Most people are always feeling intimidated by him, especially by the way he looks at everyone.
She let out a quiet sigh, catching his attention anyway. Since he became a stronger Jedi, his hearing had improved a lot. "What?"
It was the first time Anakin actually looked at her, wondering just what the fuck happened now. Slowly lifting her gaze at him, she gathered all of her courage to speak up.
"Your robotic articulations are "injured". And we're going to need some time to fix it, I'm sorry". She gave him a sympathetic look, to which he scoffed and shut his eyes.
"How long?" His voice carried some sort of rage and (Y/N) saw him making a fist with his other hand.
"Uh, we don't know. But I'll make sure it won't take too long".
Anakin grunted and ran his fingers between his hair. It was quite hot to see him like that, she thought to herself. At the same time, (Y/N) scolded herself for even thinking of something like that.
He didn't look at her when he released his fingers from his curls. "I'll give you a day".
While detaching his faux limb, she tried not to roll her eyes. He was always giving orders to people, not ever caring who they were. "We'll try our best Master Skywalker", she said bluntly.
(Y/N) placed the robotic arm above another table and reached for a first aid kit. She approached the man cautiously while holding a wet cotton. Anakin, who finally looked at her after snapping out of his reverie, furrowed his eyebrows when he saw what she was doing.
(Y/N) gently placed her hand on the Jedi's cheekbone, who remained still as she wiped the almost dried blood from his face. Anakin didn't flinch, even though he felt his skin burn from the contact with the stinging product.
He closed his eyes tightly to avoid eye contact with her, he didn't want to show any fragility at that moment. He was forced to face (Y/N) in front of him anyway, when she walked away to throw the material in the trash.
"You should get some rest, Master. Take this as an excuse to cool off for a bit". (Y/N) gave him an ice pack for his wound, smiling at him.
Anakin stood up from his chair holding a serious expression on his face while nodding. "Yeah, thank you".
He left the tech room without looking back. She scoffed. It was his thing to be the least polite ever and not even look at anyone.
(Y/N) considered it a win having caught his attention twice that day. He never does that. Not ever since he lost Padmé anyway.
*
Anakin
Luke came running straight to me as soon as I got to the loft. He was doing his homework with C-3PO before I arrived.
"Daddy!" He shouted as his small arms hugged my legs. "Your arm is missing, what happened?".
Little guy never failed to actually notice things. I crouched down to stay on his level and messed up his hair. "Dad was on an assignment, and it got shot with a blast".
He frowned for a second before messing my hair back. "Hey, little one!"
Luke started laughing as he ran back to the Droid, hiding behind him. "Are you alright, Master Skywalker? Do I need to contact the medical bay?"
I shook my head and flopped down on my bed. "Thank you, 3PO. I just need some rest".
The Droid nodded and walked back to the table, so my son could finish his homework. I sighed, it was weird to have a missing limb. It has been so long, I don't even remember how it felt like. I could still feel my ghost fingers moving.
I felt a throbbing pain on my cheekbone as well as my ribs, making it harder for me to breathe properly. My single hand went straight to my hair as I ran through it nervously.
I tried to dial down the stress, but couldn't even keep my eyes shut for what felt like half an hour. Luke had left the loft with C-P30 for whatever reason, which made me feel relieved. I didn't want my kid to see me like that.
"Fuck", I muttered under my breath. I wasn't sure I had painkillers lying around, and I didn't feel like going to the medical bay for an appointment.
I only found a bottle of liquor and decided to pour some into a glass. The strong taste burned my throat, and it hit my stomach briskly. If that doesn't numb the pain, I would have to drag myself out of the house. It was enough already I didn't have my metal arm, I wouldn't want to deal with that excruciating pain.
I didn't realize I had laid my head down on the kitchen countertop. The muffled sounds coming from my door woke me up, and I quickly grabbed my lightsaber, holding it next to me.
It was already dark, and only then I noticed Luke wasn't there. He wasn't watching TV or playing with his toys. Nor was he trying to sneak on me looking for my weapons that he fancied.
My fingertips became cold as I carefully walked towards the living room, still hearing low whispers. The giggling made me drop my shoulders and put down my lightsaber when I realized it was Luke.
"Luke! What the hell were you doing out? It's dark" My voice came out louder than I intended, and it scared him. He was using both hands to hold (Y/N)'s left arm, like he was trying to drag her inside.
"I'm sorry, Master Skywalker. He went to the tech room with 3PO. He wanted to see your arm". Her voice sounds apologetic and a bit apprehensive, even.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, watching as Luke reluctantly let go of her. "Sorry, dad. I just wanted to see how your arm was. I asked Miss (Y/N) to show me around as well, and 3PO said it was ok if she watched me".
"I didn't mean to bother, I'm really sor-" I cut her off before she could even apologize. My gaze met his and he nodded, knowing he should go to his bedroom.
"You should've brought him right away. He's not supposed to be out when I'm not with him". (Y/N) bit her lip and brought her hands together. "Don't do that again, please. Or I won't let him go near you".
She got taken aback, her eyes met the floor as she crossed her arms. "I really am sorry. I didn't know". I could barely hear her voice, it felt like she had a lump in her throat.
All I did was nod and watch as she turned her back to me and walked out of my door. I was about to make my way to Luke's room, when I found him propped up on the door stop, looking at me with fear.
"Buddy, I said you should only stay with C-3PO" The boy looked down at his feet and sniffed.
"But I wanted to look. I wanted to see how your metal arm is. It's pretty cool, by the way! Dad, don't be mad at her. She was nice to me, and she stayed with me the whole time!" He pleaded, he had his small hands holding the hem of my under tunic.
I released a drained sigh and sat close to Luke. "You can't trust everyone, Skywalker. It's a different world out there, we need to watch ourselves".
I didn't want him to trust anyone, I didn't need to see him trust every person who's nice to him. I've been there before, I know what it was like. I lost my girl. I trusted someone and I got stabbed behind my back.
I don't want Luke to be like me. I know who I became after losing Padmé. And I can't trust anyone anymore, either. I have issues trying to trust Obi-Wan again.
And more importantly, I don't want to fall for someone and lose them again. Because at some point, it always happens. 
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captaindeadpoet · 2 months
Text
Isami is the one that proposes.
He’s lost Lewis twice, and he’ll be damned if it happens again with his feeling still left unsaid. For a few days after their triumphant return, Isami scours the base for supplies. Thin strands of metal. Shiny things. Paper. String. While Lewis is stuck in the med bay being poked and prodded and worried over, Isami is building. Tinkering. Until he has something that resembles a ring.
A simple stand in for when he can get Lewis something real and pretty. Assuming that big sap even wants a different one later.
Isami doesn’t waste anymore time after it’s finished. He pulls Lewis away from everyone and takes him to the beach.
It seemed like everything happened on the beach.
And he just walks with Lewis. Lewis is still clumsy, not quite used to being back in his human body, but he’s all smiles nonetheless. It warms Isami to his core when Lewis smiles like that. He takes Lewis’ hand to help steady him as they walk. He feels Lewis’ fingers struggle to intertwine with his own, so he meets him halfway, finding the spaces and squeezing the man’s hand until he sees red cheeks and a soft smile.
They find a nice spot to look over the sea they’ve spent so long on at war, and find comfort in cashing waves and cold foam lapping at their feet.
Isami doesn’t think as he kneels in wet sand and digs into his pocket and pulls out his clumsily crafted ring, all mismatched metal and a shiny piece of sea glass he’d managed to find by a miracle. He looks up at Lewis and holds it out.
“Marry me.”
Not so much a question as a statement.
Marry me.
Because Isami isn’t asking. He knows the answer. He’s just confirming. There need not be a question mark at the end, because there’s no uncertainty anymore. They’re Lewis and Isami. Partners. Two halves of a whole.
Tears well in Lewis’ eyes, and Isami’s heart drops for a moment, but his mind is quick to remind him that Lewis is sensitive. His other half is overwhelmed with emotion.
Which makes it so much sweeter when Lewis’ knees buckle and his arms wrap around Isami in a tight hug.
“Yes.”
And it’s music to Isami’s ears.
Yes.
And Isami feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, because he won’t lose Lewis again. Because Lewis is his.
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sapphicseasapphire · 5 months
Note
ok, so, this has been bugging me for a bit today, but, what was Sky's reaction to when he first met Warriors? like there's got to be a strong emotion there given that Fi is also a sword spirit.
so yeah, I'm just wondering what you have planed for that.
.
.
.
.
(also great artwork it's absolutely stunning and looks really yummy)
((dont question it))
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SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS, I HAD TO DRAW IT.
(Lore under the cut. Sorry, I have a lot to say about this haha)
Sky’s reaction when he first meets Warriors? Awe.
They find Wars last- or, well, they find his sword. The others are notably confused because they were looking for the hero. The temple that they were led to is completely empty except for a single sword atop a pedestal. Surely their lead was wrong- this can’t be it. Maybe this is the hero’s blade? And he will return to the temple? Or is this just the wrong spot entirely?
While the others are arguing with each other about what to do next, Sky steps up to the blade. It’s… a lot fancier than the ones that the heroes are accustomed to. Gems are inlaid into the guard, fabric is woven around the grip in a familiar pattern. There are diamonds that run down the blade and a piece of blue fabric is tied around the ring of the pommel. This level of decoration is not usually suited for a sword to be wielded in battle. In fact, the only sword that he’s known to be this beautiful and but also effective is currently strapped at his side. As Sky walks closer, he can see the blade glow unnaturally, and his voice echoes through the temple:
“It’s a Sword Spirit,” he’d say, reaching out to the blade but not touching. Not yet.
There’s a mix of emotions when Sky looks upon the blade. He’s relieved, for he had feared that Sword Spirits had been forgotten entirely. His heart aches at the cold weight of Fi at his side, empty and quiet where she used to be full of life. It’s good, he thinks, to see a new sword shine so bright. He’s a little afraid, he’d admit, since he has unsavory memories of a different Sword Spirit. Phantom hands at his shoulders, tongue at his ear, black blades arcing in the air.
Still, Sky can’t repress the way his heart leaps in excitement, a smile at his lips, even as his hand falters in the air. Another Sword Spirit, here, right in front of him. Another opportunity to make things right, to fix things. Oh, how he misses Fi.
“This is the hero we’re looking for.”
And the others would approach, their curiosity piqued by the reverent tone of Sky’s voice. (Note that Sky had just joined them about two-ish days ago? He was the second to last to meet the Chain, the last being Wars).
No one else has met a Sword Spirit before, not even Wild or Time (who, at this point, everyone thinks is a spirit), so they’re all a bit hesitant to accept Sky’s words at face value. Sky explains that he’s met Sword Spirits before, that the Master Sword herself is a spirit. Puzzle pieces click into place but they still need more convincing. They’ll believe that Sky’s correct: that the sword in the pedestal is indeed a Sword Spirit, but they don’t agree that it’s the hero that they’re looking for.
At least, not until the spirit bursts from his sword in a flash of white light, floating in the air as Fi had done so long ago. The eight heroes stand, eyes wide, before the glowing metallic figure. Sky could cry in at the joy he feels as the spirit utters his first words to them:
“Hello, Masters.”
. . .
• Sky inherently trusts everything that Wars says because he trusted Fi. Fi didn’t lie, she was always helpful, and she told him exactly what he needed to hear every single time, even if he didn’t like it. She was calculating and intelligent and Sky (well… Link) could not have survived on the Surface without her. He trusted her with his life. Sky has no reason to think that Wars would ever lie to him, either. Especially in the early days, when he’s more robotic and less human. And so, he trusts Wars to always be honest.
• This will totally definitely 100% not be a problem guys, I promise. Wars would never lie to Sky about something dangerous. And it totally would never result in Sky getting hurt. And it’s definitely not why Wars looks so upset in the sketches I did yesterday. You can trust me. I promise.
• Sky and Wars talk a lot about Fi. Wars is curious about her, since he’s met her before in his own era and doesn’t know what happened to her. So Sky would explain that she went to sleep after his first adventure, and Wars would stare at him blankly.
“Sword Spirits do not necessitate sleep, Master.”
“I-” Sky would look away, something terribly vulnerable in his eyes. His voice would be sad and quiet as he continued: “I know.”
• I know I’ve talked about this before, but Sky is the most knowledgeable about Wars. He understands. And so his interactions with Wars are a lot easier for the Sword Spirit than with the others. The others don’t like being called “Master.” They don’t like the matter-of-fact way he talks, how he calculates every sentence before speaking it, how he uses percentages and simulations to back up his arguments. (How he always wins arguments). And Sky doesn’t necessarily like these things either, but he’s always patient. Always gentle. He allows Wars to call him “Master” because he understands how much Wars needs it. When Wars goes off on tangents and describes every bit of data he can think of, Sky sits and listens and they talk and it’s just so easy. Sky is probably Wars’ favorite, just for that.
• The REASON that Sky is so supportive of Wars goes back to the one thing that drives him through literally everything in his life: guilt. He said goodbye to Fi much too soon. She was just starting to open up, to feel and express her emotions, when their time ran out. He never got to know the person she’d end up to be, and he’s not making that same mistake again with Warriors.
I think I’ve talked about this before? How when Sword Spirits are young, they talk robotically and don’t express themselves, but as they mature and are around more people, they kind of adopt their traits and become a more well rounded person? Fi, for example was only around for what? A few months? Ghirahim had thousands of years to develop. That’s the difference between “According to your social customs, I should provide you with my personal designation. Fi is the name I was given,” and “You may call me Ghirahim. In truth, I very much prefer to be indulged with my full title: Lord Ghirahim. But I'm not fussy."
Sky wants to see Wars grow in the way that he never got to see Fi. He wants to know Wars. Not just as a spirit, but as a friend.
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seeingivy · 4 months
Text
tolerate it
actor!eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting series
previous part linked here
song: (is obviously) tolerate it by taylor swift. minor you are in love by taylor swift mention.
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You can’t help but stare at Jean and Mikasa the following morning. The honey sweet smiles, the fact that they share a cup of coffee instead of getting their own – just to end up drinking two cups anyways – and the warm kisses on each other's cheeks. 
They’re in love. 
The slip of paper sits heavy in your pocket, a metallic taste in your mouth from the blood you drew from biting down on your cheek. The ring on her finger glimmers in the light. 
Colt’s at your side, a soft hand on your shoulder, as he nearly breaks you out of your trance. 
“Hey. You good?” he asks. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Why’d you ask?” you mumble.  
You drive your fork straight into the french toast as a distraction, but too hard that it squeaks against the ceramic of the plate and makes them all flinch in response. Jean and Mikasa turn their heads to you, and you shoot them all an apologetic smile before everyone turns back to their own conversations. And Jean distractedly tucks a stray hair behind Mikasa’s ear, before lacing his fingers with hers. 
“Y/N. You’re sure? You’re kind of….” 
“Kind of what?” 
Colt sighs, the corners of his mouth twitching before he speaks. 
“You just kind of had that blank stare in your eyes. Just wanted to know if you wanted to talk about anything.” 
You pause, putting your hand on his shoulder this time. The guilt sits heavy in your stomach – the never ending worry you’ve seemed to sow in both of your brothers was almost embarrassing. 
“It’s not that, Colt. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just…it’s just about Jean and Mikasa. But…but if I needed you, I would tell you. And-and I know that sometimes I kind of scared you but I-” 
Colt breaks a smile, bringing his hands up to squish your cheeks hard, before he starts aggressively rattling your head.
That’s the thing about him. He’d never let you feel bad about it. About him taking care of you – because according to him, it was always his job. You hate that you rely on it so much. 
“Only thing scary about you is your bedhead. Or your attitude. Or that god awful-” Colt states. 
“Okay, Jesus. You’re laying it on a little thick there.” you respond, trailing your voice. 
“I’m glad you’re okay. And that your…your…Eren stuff is mostly resolved?” 
You smile. Colt and Levi have one thing in common – that they’ll always be a little bit disapproving of your relationship with Eren (whatever that is) just on principle. 
“Kind of.” 
Colt squints. 
“Well, he actually showed me the documentary after you came back from Seattle. He kind of…told me all that stuff when I asked a while back and it didn’t necessarily make sense. But watching the video, I…kind of feel bad for the guy.” Colt murmurs. 
“Me too.” you respond. 
The two of you look over at him, at the quiet conversation that he and Armin are having, soft smiles on both of their faces. And then watch those turn into devious grins as Armin digs his fingers into his glass for an ice cube – and then consequently watch Eren slip the ice down Reiner’s shirt. 
“You still like him? He just shoved an ice cube down someone's shirt and thought it was funny.” Colt asks. 
You frown.
“It is funny. And I’m kind of…putting that on the back burner.” 
“Why?” 
“I feel like I need everything else to be finished, the book needs to be shut before we….do anything again. I want to say my piece – have the documentary out, do my stupid triple threat performance – before I can even consider anything with him. If…” 
Your throat is heavy. 
“If I want anything with him again, I’ll have to do it right. I-I have to move carefully with everything from here because…a lot is riding on this. And if I’m not a hundred percent sure yet, I don’t want to push. He deserves better than that.” 
Colt smiles, a rare kiss pressed to the top of your head before he stands up. You shoot him a grateful smile before turning back to Jean and Mikasa, watching her balance both of their plates before she leaves to put them in the sink. 
“Jean?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Are you filming today?” you ask. 
“Nope. What’s up?” 
You pull the piece of paper out and hold it out to him. He reads it over, quickly recognizing it’s his, before he closes it in his fist. The look he gives you is soft, a quiet glance to Mikasa before he looks back at you. 
“I’m all yours for today, princess.” he responds. 
--
When everyone leaves for set, you and Jean find yourselves lying flat on the carpet in your room, quietly staring at the popcorn ceiling. His hands are up, holding the little slip of paper above both of your faces, an empty page open at your side, and you’re both uncharacteristically quiet. 
It’s almost strange. Trying to broach something so…sensitive with Jean. 
Because it’s not that you aren’t friends, but you were never friends like this. It’s like you two knew where loyalties lied. That Jean was Eren’s best friend, that you were Mikasa’s – and if it came to it, you would side with your person. That you had expectations for each other, that you held each other to a higher standard because of it. 
To be careful with the person you trusted them with. That Jean could never hurt Mikasa. That you couldn’t do the same to Eren. 
You didn’t hold up to your end of the deal. 
“Mikasa’s going to ask you to be her maid of honor again soon.” Jean murmurs, voice so quiet you barely hear it. 
You give him a quiet nod. 
“We’ve got a whole scheme going. Trying to make Amy quit on her own accord so it isn't family drama. It’s fun to kind of mess with her. And the second she’s gone, Mikasa’s going to ask you to do it again.” 
You can’t muster a response. You can’t even think about being Mikasa’s maid of honor. 
Because why are Jean and Mikasa getting married if Mikasa doesn’t love him half as much as he loves her? If he thinks that she doesn’t?
“I do hope for my future wife’s sake that your silence means you’re going to say yes. Would hate to see you ruin our wedding.” Jean states, a joking tone in his voice. 
You crack. 
“I’ll say yes. I’m not crazy.” you state .
Jean smiles. 
“You could have fooled me.” 
You elbow him hard in the side, as you watch the fan spin around. 
“You’re a dick.” you state. 
“You’re going to have to get me a gift you know? I’d watch your mouth if I were you.” 
“Why would I buy you a gift at my best friend's wedding?” you ask. 
“Mika’s idea. We’re sharing our lives together. Including, sharing friends. So instead of you guys getting us gifts, Eren’s going to get something for Mikasa and you’re going to get something for me.”  Jean states. 
“We’ve always been friends. You guys were always there for me.” you state. 
“I know that. But, my friendship with you was exclusive to the fact that you were my my girlfriend's best friend. We aren’t really close and I think we both know that. And Eren and Mikasa are close now, have been for some time, and…and you and I can be too. We’ve got something that brings us together.”  
You sit up, leaning against the back of the bed, as you dig your feet into the carpet. It makes sense. Jean was always there at your side, and you always felt close with him, but it was almost like you knew that you could never go further than that. 
He was Eren’s friend. So in that type of way, he couldn’t be yours. 
“What’s that?” 
“Eren. No one we love more than him, right?” 
You smile. 
“You love Eren more than your future wife?” 
He rolls his eyes.
“Shut the fuck up. You know what I meant. And we love Mikasa that way too.” 
“Not sure I did…I fear I’ll have to tell her, just on a best friend principle type of thing.” 
Jean shoves you, elbow straight to the side that makes you laugh. 
“Weirdly enough, Eren and Mikasa started getting along when they talked about me. And they always talk about how nice it is, to talk about me with each other because they get it or whatever.” 
You scrunch your nose. 
“They’re so weird.” 
“Tell me about it. The first time they hung out without me I was almost offended. Like what the fuck did you even talk about? And they were like you, Jean. Like I was supposed to be flattered or something.” 
You laugh. 
“Oh, god.” 
“Thought it was dumb. Then…then Mikasa and I started having our problems. And them being friends…it did a lot for us. Eren talked to her when she didn’t have anyone to talk to about that type of thing, someone who understood what I was like…what it was like to be close with me…sometimes I think it saved our relationship.”  
You pause, taking the little slip from his fingers, before you read it again. 
you love someone with your entire being and all they do is tolerate it 
“Jean. What happened?” you whisper. 
Jean smiles, as you lean your head on his shoulder and loop your hand through his arm. He welcomes the touch, slouching back as you both swing your legs out in front of you. 
“You only fall in love with three people in your lifetime. I just happened to do it all with the same person.” Jean murmurs. 
You’ve heard this before. A dumb thing you’ve heard parroted around - the puppy love, the one that hurts you, and the one that’s just right. 
“The first one is the one that looks right. It’s…it’s idealistic. You’re fifteen – you’re on the set, confined into this little bubble, and you think that you’re the first person to figure love out and other people are stupid for not getting it right.. That no one has ever felt the way you have, that you’re the first people to ever love and you’ll be the last ones too. That’s how Mikasa and I were at the beginning. We liked how we made each other feel more than we really liked each other.” Jean states. 
“Isn’t that what love…kind of is? Someone who brings out the best in you? Pushes you to do things that make you nervous, support you behind your back?” 
Like sending a demo of your first song to the Institute so that you could perform it. Like climbing onto the stage and playing the piano when your original pianist couldn’t. Like writing to the Institute behind your back just to make sure your dream would come true – being so firmly resolute in the fact that you were brilliant that he’d write hopeless letters just to convince them. 
Eren. 
“I liked Mikasa, from the start. I wanted her so badly that…that when we started dating, I was more happy by the fact that I was dating her. That I got to say that. Not that we were…actually together. And Mikasa, she liked the fact that I would fawn over her. That I basically worshiped the ground she walked on. And I’m not…putting words in her mouth. She’d tell you the same thing.” 
“Okay. Keep going.” you nudge. 
“The second love is the hard one. That teaches you a lesson about what love really is. And it all boiled down to a simple fact. That Mikasa and I loved each other in different ways.” 
“You don’t love her more than she loves you, Jean. She-she adores you.” you murmur. 
Jean smiles, glassy tears wavering in your eyes. 
“Don’t cry. We are still getting married, you know? And we’re pretty over the fucking moon about it.” 
“Then why would you give me that?” 
“It was Mikasa’s idea. She wanted you to write that song with me. This is what we did with Eren when we were writing songs with him. Gave him things to think about. Maybe thinking about other people will give you more insight on yourself. Help you piece things together, because you rarely have experiences that are unique to you. And it's a nice bonus to have friends who basically write the soundtrack to your life.” 
You sniffle, glaring at him through your watery eyes. 
“Of course you made this about Eren.” 
“Do you blame me? He wrote a really good song about us. Figured you could do the same.” he asks. 
You sigh, barely pushing the air through that heavy block in your chest. 
“What did he call it?” 
“You Are In Love.” he states. 
You hum in response as Jean gives you a smile, before leaning his head against yours.  
“Mikasa and I loved each other in different ways. She could be trying her absolute hardest, doing everything she could, and it would never work for me.” Jean states. 
“What do you mean?” 
“The problems from before bled in. We were too comfortable in what we had, that we wouldn’t leave each other, that it became too easy. That she could pull away and I’d still be there. And part of the problem is me – that Mikasa did no wrong in my mind. I was…enamored by her. Almost like I was lucky to even be dating her, that..that she’d leave if I did something wrong.” 
You frown. 
“I’d walk into the room and we wouldn’t have seen each other in weeks. She couldn’t even be bothered to look at me. I…I never got to see her because of work so I’d fly out to her. Just for her to be dead asleep. And it would make me happy, that I sacrificed my entire sleep schedule just to watch her breathe with her eyes closed. That it was enough for me.” 
You can’t help but think of Eren’s birthday – that you were tired from touring and that you had slept through the entire thing. That he wouldn’t even wake you up, that he’d never break what you wanted for what he needed. 
“Jean.” 
“I’d go all out for her birthday. Throw her a surprise party, have Vanity Fair film the entire process. And the small things she’d give me – calling me a pet name once in a while, giving me a kiss on the cheek. It’s almost like I was working based on a reward system. That if I was good, if I worked hard enough, she would love me.” 
You can feel the tears falling down your eyes, choking back that sound in the back of your throat from coming out. 
“I’d buy all this…fancy shit for her. Nice dinner sets, the most…expensive couches and stuff. And sometimes when I did, it…it was almost like she’d find it annoying. I would be doing interviewers gushing about her, just for her to come home and say that it was too much. It’s like I was a nuisance. Like all I did was create problems with her.” 
Jean pulls out his wallet, before handing you a picture. It’s a polaroid of the two of them smiling. 
“That was the day we got engaged. The second time.” 
“What?” 
“I broke up with her.” 
You pinch your lips into a flat line.
“I was sitting there. Watching her, like I always did. And she still wouldn’t even fucking look at me. And I was thinking so hard…why was she my whole world? My literal fucking sky? She doesn’t even give a fuck about me. So I left.” 
“For how long?” 
“We didn’t get back together until four months after. But…but it wasn’t a break. Didn’t even last a day actually without seeing each other.” Jean states. 
You smile. 
“Didn’t last very long there, Jean.” 
He rolls his eyes. 
“She came back to me, dipshit.” 
Jean takes the picture back, a fond smile on his face. 
“The third love is the one that you never see coming. It keeps knocking on your door until you're ready to answer. And if you’re Mikasa, you wait three whole months for me to come around. Ready to prove it that you’ll work to do it right. And never let me forget it either.” Jean murmurs. 
“Really?” 
“That’s right. The time apart gave us time to think. I needed that – but she didn’t. She was at my door almost everyday. Sometimes she would sit out there and just talk – and I’d listen. She was being earnest – that she wanted to love me, that she knows she did wrong. And when I let her in, the conversation we had, it was like I was seeing Mikasa, the person, for the first time. That was the person I loved. I wasn’t looking at her as some like…dream girl and I didn’t think she was some goddess doing me a favor either. She was just Mikasa. I proposed right there and it was better than the first time. Not in the idealistic, fifteen year old way. Not in the nineteen year old, all consuming way.  Loving her this time around was weightless. And I knew that it was right.” 
You smile. 
“It’s not as romantic. That we’ve loved each other since fifteen and we’ve never wavered. But…I’d argue that it’s better. Mikasa and I aren’t childhood sweethearts because we’re soulmates. We’re childhood sweethearts because we fought for each other. There’s no fate, there’s no luck, in fact the quite opposite – the love lies in the fact that we won’t let each other go.”  
He takes your hands, tears nearly collecting in his waterline. 
“Y/N. Mikasa loves me. I love her. There’s not a day that she doesn’t prove it to me now. There’s not a day that I can’t even spend without her because she’s the love of my life.” 
You smile, cupping his cheek with your hand. And you get it - that he’s right. That it’s not romantic, but it almost is. Jean and Mikasa fight hellish odds just to end up together. That fate could try its best and never get to them. 
That you and Eren being friends, that being together, is a testament to your love. That he fought his way back to you and you were intent on fighting your way back to him. 
“That’s nothing short of what you deserve.” you whisper. 
It’s enough to make him cry. 
“Thank you.” 
Jean smiles. It’s the first time that you notice that Jean’s attractive. That Jean’s someone that you really love. That he’s going to be Mikasa’s husband, that he’s going to be Eren’s best friend, that he’s going to be around forever. That he’s earnest, that he loves hard, that you’re going to stand at his side when he gets married. 
And that you’re going to give him his dream wedding if it’s the last thing you do. 
“Are you getting the drift of why Mika and I wanted you to write this song?” Jean asks. 
“I’m not a fucking idiot, Jean.” 
“Do you believe it?” 
You swallow hard. 
“If Eren and I can get back to that, when-when I’ve put everything else to rest, then yes. Yeah, we…we’d be the same. That we fought odds to be together.” 
“I’m glad your mind isn’t closed to it. That you’re open to the idea of you and him again. S’always something I’ve appreciated about you.” 
You smile. 
“We aren’t there yet, Jean.” 
“I know. But when it comes to it, I can tell you will be. He’s been my person since I was a kid, but you’re my friend too. I’ve got a personal stake in your relationship now.” 
You can’t help but beam at him. And in your newfound friendship, Jean divulges everything that Eren’s hiding from you. And you both agonize over the fact that Eren’s so painfully stupid – that he always hides his great gestures of love, moves in silence behind your backs to love you. 
--
You gather everyone around later that day, with Jean seated at the piano at your side. You shoot him a thumbs up as they all sit criss crossed around the piano, excited smiles on their faces. Falco and Gabi doing their secret handshake, Hange and Levi sharing a chair - it makes you smile. 
“Are we ready?” you ask. 
They all give you a nod, as Eren and Mikasa sit next to each other, whispering in each other’s ears. Jean did as you promised – warned Mikasa beforehand that it was this song – and she all but gave a golden stamp of approval, contingent on the fact that Eren sat with her while the two of you performed it together. And you give the two of them a nod before you take the little slip in your hands.
“The request is you love someone with your entire being and all they do is tolerate it. And it’s from Jean.” you state. 
The group of them all give affirmative hums, before you take a seat next to Jean at the piano. 
Eren’s stupid songwriting exercise – it was something that he had planned for you, on purpose. That it meant more for you than for any of them – that all of the requests are intended to be of this nature, something personal for you to work with. 
Eren asked them to help you in whatever way they thought you needed. 
For Jean, and Mikasa by extension, it was that they thought you needed living proof; that you could weather the storm and still be together. That you could come out stronger because of it. 
And it’s also why Jean got mad at Connie in retrospect – and Reiner too apparently – who gave more tame requests. But in their humble defenses, Jean said that they gave those so that you wouldn’t get emotional whiplash.
They thought you needed someone to give you the ease amidst the storm. 
You love all of them. Painfully so. 
Jean starts with the tiny piano composition he prepared, before you sing the song. 
I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it
If it's all in my head, tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it 
I made you my temple, my mural, my sky Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I Break free and leave us in ruins Took this dagger in me and removed it Gain the weight of you, then lose it
If it's all in my head, tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it
I sit and watch you
Mikasa and Eren are the first ones to crush you and Jean in a hug. And when you lock eyes with Mikasa, you can’t be more than happy to be attending their wedding – in whatever way they’ll have you. 
--
“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed will you be if Connie gets drunk before the reception?” Eren asks. 
He’s shuffling through the itinerary, per Jean’s request, and the mix of an open bar and a Connie tasked with literally nothing to do in the two hour waiting period is a mess waiting to happen. 
“You should give him something to do. Something stupid like getting flowers that he can’t mess up.” Eren adds, before stacking all the papers together. 
“Knowing Connie, those flowers wouldn’t even make it out of the parking lot.” 
Eren looks up to find Armin standing at his door, an awkward smile on his face, as he gives him a little wave. The camera that he gifted him – or left on his desk with a sticky note when he was filming without a word being spoken – is hanging around his neck as he pads into the room. 
“Fuck, my bad. I thought you were Jean.” 
“I figured as much. We both know that I’m smart enough to not overlook something like that.” 
Eren smiles. Armin takes a seat on the bed across from Eren, retreating his legs back into position as he fumbles with the camera in his hands. He can tell that Eren’s on edge – that Eren always feels around him that way – and all he can do is try to muster his best smile. 
“Remember the Met Gala where Jean and Mikasa got super drunk?” 
“God. Don’t remind me. I’m genuinely concerned that they’re both going to get alcohol poisoning at their bachelor and bachelorette parties.” 
“God. I wouldn’t even drink if I were you.” Armin states. 
“I’m like a thousand percent sure that Y/N and I will be on sober duty.” 
“Y/N?” 
“Yeah. Jean and Mikasa are so insufferable that they’re doing a combined bachelor and bachelorette. But it was my idea. They just get so clingy when they’re drunk that I just decided we should combine the party beforehand instead of trying to coordinate it when everyone’s already too drunk to function.” 
Armin smiles. 
“Taking your best man duties very seriously. It’s going to be great.” Armin affirms. 
“The anxiety helps. I’m already stuck thinking about like every worst case scenario, but now I can create contingency plans for anything bad that happens. Like if Mikasa somehow ends up in Mexico, I know that Southwest will get here the fastest on the day of the wedding.” Eren murmurs. 
There’s an awkward silence. Eren said too much. And his chronic case of foot in mouth syndrome, especially when it came to fucking Armin, has him reeling. Eren’s positive that he’ll spend six hours ruminating about it tonight. Eren can see Armin fidgeting with the camera, running his fingers on the notches at the top. 
“If the camera’s broken, Y/N was the one who bought it.” Eren states. 
Armin laughs, the smile lines appearing around his eyes, and Eren relishes in it. 
“It’s not broken.” Armin states. 
“Okay, then it was me. She didn’t do anything.” Eren states. 
“Noted. It’s a…it’s a nice camera. The old one, the film got stuck sometimes. Strap got kind of worn out after all of these years so it was..it is nice to have a new one. Thank you, Eren.” 
Eren smiles, scratching the nape of his neck, as he feels his throat bob. 
“Nothing to thank me for. It’s the least I could do.” 
It’s quiet. Eren doesn’t know what to talk about. Should he ask about Annie? Or how filming has been? Or maybe he should just shut up before he embarrasses himself for a second time?
“How’s Y/N?” Armin asks. 
Eren deflates. Thank god he bit the bullet first. 
“Good. We’re good.” 
“Are you guys…?” 
Eren smiles. 
“Everyone seems to be asking that.” 
“In the overbearing way?” 
“No, not really. You’d think that, but…it seems like a natural question for you guys to ask. She doesn’t seem to mind it either. But, I don’t know. We’re good. I’m glad she’s back. And…and Colt thinks she’s doing good too, so.” Eren states, leaning back against the headboard. 
Armin seems to follow suit, the two of them awkwardly eyeing almost everything else in the room but each other. The books on the shelf, the pictures on the wall – literally anything except for that giant elephant in the room that neither of them want to touch. 
“Are you going to try and date her again?” Armin asks. 
“Not unless she asks me first.” 
“Makes sense. Ball is kind of in her court with the documentary and all that.” 
Eren’s throat feels dry. 
“Oh. Did you watch it?” 
Eren had offered it to him the second it was done. Because some people were more easily swayed, more quick to turn to his side when he was finally ready to ask for help – Levi, Hange, and Jean. But other’s needed to be convinced, needed to see it as it was to actually understand it – Mikasa, Historia (before she was in it), and Colt. 
Eren knew that Armin would be in the latter. But when he had offered, Armin opted to break the disk in half instead. 
Eren figures it was what he deserved. 
“Yeah. Y/N. She gave it to me when she got back. Told me that she would never talk to me again if I didn’t watch it.” 
Eren laughs. 
“She would talk to you. She’s just being dramatic.” 
“Well, she spent an entire two years ignoring all of us. So I wouldn’t exactly put it past her.” Armin states. 
“That’s very true. But really, I feel like she was kind of using that to her advantage. She wouldn’t do it again.” 
“To your advantage. Though I suppose for you two, your wants have always been the same.” Armin adds. 
Eren eyes the picture on the wall – of Lana, Connie, Sukuna, him, and Teddy all swamped around Connie’s little cake – as he looks back at Armin. 
“I’m sorry for breaking the CD when you gave it to me. I should have watched it the second you offered.” Armin states. 
“That’s okay, Armin. I probably would have done the same thing in your position.” Eren states. 
“No, you wouldn’t have. You…you were always better than me, than all of us, in that sense. Always really quick to forgive. I know it’s…it’s because you expected little from people after what happened with Zeke, but…we should have given it to you. Should have done more.”  
Eren fights the urge to scoff. The premise of the statement is ridiculous to him. Those type of rules don't apply to him. And as perceptive as Armin is, he knows that’s exactly what Eren is thinking. 
“We’re serious. There’s…there’s a lot of people you didn't have to forgive. And…and some of us didn’t even ask and you did it anyway.” 
“I know your intentions. I broke your fucking camera, you had every right to do-” 
Armin’s almost exasperated. 
“You know how you were quick to forgive Y/N, for not talking to any of us when all of that stuff happened with her music and all that?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Why’d you do that?” Armin asks. 
“Well, she had a lot going on. I’m just thankful that she came back to us eventually. And…and it’s already hard to hold anything against her, she…she always does the right thing. But that specifically. I can’t hold it against her if other things are going on.” Eren states. 
Armin nods. 
“That’s what I mean. You’ve always thought about everything like that. Given grace where it deserved. I’ve never had a shred of that in me. You…you did what you did and I didn’t even think twice about what it had meant. I mean hell, even Y/N had a little bit of an inkling that something else had to have happened. I just fully believed it. And even when you tried to tell me, I still didn’t consider that you could have been going through something else. Not until she came to me and advocated on your behalf.” 
Eren smiles, putting a hand on Armin’s shoulder. He makes a mental note to thank you later. You prove time and time again that you’re far too good for him. 
“That’s not your fault for believing it. I’m just a really good actor.” Eren teases. 
Armin rolls his eyes, shoving him lightly to the side. 
“Oh, fuck off. I’m fighting the urge to strangle you right now. And how’d you even come up with that bullshit anyways.?” Armin asks, referring to what Eren had said to you back in Seattle. 
Eren grins.
“You have to promise you won’t tell Y/N.” 
“What? You haven’t told her?” 
“No, no. She knows everything but I refuse to tell her this part because she’s going to gouge my eyes out.” 
Armin tilts his head to the side, confused. 
“Do you remember when we were at the birthday dinner and Vinh kept asking her if she was dating Sukuna? Going on about how you can’t fake chemistry like that?” Eren asks. 
Armin’s perceptive. 
“Holy shit. You got the idea from her.” 
Eren nods. 
“That’s right. Her whole ‘I’m an actor, this is part of my job’ defense was like the first thing that came to mind when I knew I had to send her away. And that’s just what came out of me at that moment.” 
“Good move on your part. I wouldn’t tell her that either.” 
Eren rolls his eyes. 
“It’ll be short lived. I’m sure Sukuna will tell her the first chance he gets.” Eren adds. 
The two of them marinate in the silence, the weight of the conversation sitting with them. It seems pretty lackluster to an outsider – that if you were there you would have forced them to hug it out – but they were hardly the type to communicate with their words in the first place, the meaning was all the same.
They had made up. 
“You have to give credit to Y/N. Your girl is trying to ride as hard for you as you did for her.” 
Eren frowns. 
“What do you mean? Because she got you to watch it?” 
“Yeah. That. but also the award show thing? I’d be scared shitless if I was Scott Clarkson. Whenever she talks about it, it kind of freaks me the fuck out how much she doesn’t seem to care about what people think. Though in hindsight, that was always kind of her thing.” 
“What awards show thing?” Eren asks. 
Armin pales. 
“She didn’t tell you?” Armin asks. 
“No.” 
Armin shakes his head. 
“All in good time.” 
Armin pushes off the bed, giving him a quick look over the shoulder, before consequently flashing the light of the camera in his face. Eren sees the polaroid front and center – his eyes pinched shut in shock – on the wall the following morning. And the caption makes him smile. 
eren jaeger redemption arc. circa 2024. 
--
“Have something for you two.” Levi states, slamming a manila envelope right in between you and Eren – startling you both from what you were doing. 
Eren was playing a very aggressive game of Cup Pong with Lana on iMessage, claiming that the two of them have been playing for the past three years, nonstop. And you were busy finishing up Gabi’s request that you had pulled out of the little bowl this morning, so excited to play it for them tonight. 
write about the bestest of friendships!!!! like so good that you can’t even stay away from each other bc of how fun it is to be together. 
Recruiting Falco to sing one of the verses with you later – because you were almost positive that this request was about him – felt like cheating, but your humble gamemaster Eren approved it. 
“Jesus, Levi. What the fuck do you have against the postman? He make a comment about how short you are or something?” you ask, flipping over the little envelope in your hands. 
“Look at the sender.” Levi seethes. 
You look over at Eren, as the two of you catch sight of the little name of the corner, almost positive that your eye was twitching now. 
Scott Clarkson, Stone Studios, 15th Street, New York City 
It’s addressed to both you and Eren. 
“What the fuck?” you seethe. 
Eren takes the envelope from your hands, nimble fingers sliding open the little seal, and a magazine falls out. Eren takes it into his hands, nearly groaning, before picking up his phone and shooting a quick text. 
It’s a picture of Scott Clarkson – sitting on a literal throne with a crown on his head – with Lana and Eren leaning on the little handles at the side. 
Scott Clarkson: King of an Industry – How This Businessman Jump Started the Careers of the Institute’s Frontrunners 
You look at Eren at your side, quickly clocking that it’s Lana and Sukuna that he’s texting. 
“You’re kidding.” you state. 
“It was stupid. We refused to let him run it at the time. I’m guessing he got wind of what’s happening this weekend and wanted to get ahead of the curve.” 
It was simple. Eren’s documentary was going to come out on Friday. Hyla just happened to have a song featuring Ricky James releasing on Saturday. And almost too perfect, the sixth episode of Attack on Titan – your first of the season – was going to release on Sunday. 
And with Levi’s approval, you and Eren were going to attend the Institute Awards pre-show and the event itself next week to put an end to them for good. 
“How could he have known?” you ask. 
“He has eyes and ears everywhere. They’re preparing to distribute the film – I’m sure he must have seen it shuffled around in the paperwork somewhere.” Eren states, shrugging. 
You turn to Levi, staring into his steely gray eyes. You eye the magazine, now lying flat on the table, before looking back up at him – knowing for a fact he understands. That he has the same thought as you. 
“Do you think that we could do it in time?” you ask. 
Levi looks at the picture, corners of his mouth twitching, before he turns back to you. 
“I’m positive he knows a guy. We’ll make it work.” Levi states. 
You give Levi a smile, looking back at the magazine. It’s a comforting press to the shoulder, accompanied by Levi slamming the keys on the table at your side. 
“Take Eren with you. It might rain.” 
“You got it, Levi. Thank you.” 
Levi cups the bottom of your chin with his hands, a warm smile on his face, before he shakes his head and walks away. You turn to Eren, giving him a lopsided smile, before you jingle the keys in front of his face. 
“Wanna go for a drive?” 
“I’m pretty sure Levi just demanded that I go with you.” 
“I was trying to be cute and you just ruined it.” 
“Can it even be considered trying if it’s already something you’re so effortless at?” Eren jeers, snatching the keys from your hand as he pulls you up. 
“You don’t have to be so patronizing, Eren.” 
“Leave it to you to confuse my affections with ill will.” 
Eren swings the door open, and at the first burst of chilly air, aggressively wraps the extra scarf left on the hook around your neck before shutting the door. 
“Where are we going?” he asks. 
“The airport.” 
Eren features curl in confusion as he opens the door for you, tucking you into the seat before taking his at your side. 
“The airport? Who’s coming?” 
You bite your cheek. Becuase Eren does that thing – that thing that guys do when they reverse out of a parking spot. His arm is spread out on the back of your seat, his face close to yours as he looks out in concentration, and you take the chance to fully ogle him. Only you start searing with embarrassment when his eyes flicker over to you – giving you a wink in recognition. That he knows you were fully checking him out.  
“Some friends of mine. I..I kind of owe them a favor. And contingent on that, they refused to ride in the bus with everyone else.” 
Eren squints his eyes, the stoplight's red glow reflecting on his features. And when he looks over, his eyes are so pensive that you feel bad for keeping it from him for so long. 
“It started out simple, I guess. When…when we came back from Seattle, I felt like there was so much…floating around in my head. So much I was finding out, so much I was realizing, that I could barely come to terms with all of it at once.” 
Eren’s gaze shifts, focused back on the street, as the little drops hit the glass. 
“I wrote it all down. Everything I learned, what I can’t forget. That I can’t live my life when I’m untouchable. That the wound is where the light enters. That you can’t learn your lessons for people, that sometimes you just have to be there to catch them. You can have grace for yourself but keep yourself accountable too – those things don’t have to be mutually exclusive. That hardship can be good – that sometimes it can even make the good times feel even better.” 
You look over at Eren, the red reflecting on his skin. 
Eren’s smiling at you – like he’s proud of you. That he knows that you’re repeating the words – his words, Michael’s, Levi’s – everyone who has been pushing you forward. 
That you’re taking them to heart. 
“That I’m going to make them pay for what they did to you. And to me. I don’t know what’ll happen, but I refuse to be silent about it. I’m done doing that.” you whisper. 
You reach for his hand, leaning closer. And he follows your suit, your noses nearly brushing against each other, stilling your blinking – just so you don't have to tear yourself from his green eyes. 
“Are you with me, Eren?” 
“Think it’s impossible for me to be anywhere else.” he whispers. 
The warmth in your throat is suffocating. 
“Eren?” you whisper. 
“Yeah.” 
You pinch your eyes shut at the horrible timing. 
“The light is green.” you murmur. 
Eren’s eyes falter, a curt nod, before he releases your hand and continues to drive forward. 
And takes you all the way down to the airport, the quiet silence enveloping your space. 
You open up the car door, a light sprinkle and the earthy smell in the air, as you lean against the hood, hands tucked into your pockets. Eren follows suit, taking the spot next to you, as you watch your breath visualize in the cold, crisp air. 
“Back in the day, Satoru Gojo did me a favor. He had the chance to do an ensemble showcase, and he lent that time to me, so I could make a point.” you state. 
Eren turns his head towards you, and immediately looks at the group of people piling out of the airport – the distinct white, green, and pink hair catching him off guard. 
“It’s time for me to make a point again. I figured I could use all the help I could get.” you state.
Eren fights the urge to bite his cheek, the glimmering smirk you give him before pushing off the hood of the car making his heart pound. He watches as you excitedly run up to Satoru Gojo – and Suguru Getou by extension – wrapping your arms around the two of them and pinching their cheeks. 
And it only gets worse when his favorite kid comes running out shortly after – followed by Lana and Sukuna berating him – and clings straight onto his legs. Eren’s exasperated, bringing his hand down to Teddy’s curly hair just to make sure. 
That they really were here. 
“Eren! Eren, pick me up! Pick me up!” 
“You could say please, Teddy. He drove all the way here just for you.” Lana states, giving Eren a warm smile as she places her hands on her hips. 
“Please, Eren!” 
Eren smiles wide, the warmth in his chest reverberating, as he reaches for Teddy’s sides and gets a wet kiss to the cheek from him return. There’s a deep yearning stinging in Eren’s chest as you walk up, looping your arm under Sukuna’s as you press your cheek to his bicep. 
Eren can barely contain it. He’d strangle you if he could. 
And Satoru Gojo’s quick to follow, aggressively leaning his weight on both you and Sukuna, as he gives Eren a bright smile. 
“Eren Jaeger. Just the guy I wanted to see.” Satoru sings. 
“Is that right?” Eren asks. 
“We’re all going to battle for you, kid. How do you feel? Your vicious guard dog plans to leave no corner unturned.” he responds, ruffling the top of your hair as Eren watches you shove him off. 
Eren frowns. 
“You don’t have to…do something for me. I’m not exactly sure what it is you’re doing, but you don’t have to.” 
You smile. It was almost aggravating how cute he could be sometimes. 
“Don’t worry kid. I love to stir shit up. I have a feeling this one’s going to be in your favor.” Satoru states, giving him a lingering smile before getting called up to one of the cars lingering in front. 
Eren turns to his side – Teddy wiggling in his arms – as he watches you excitedly smile at Lana and Sukuna. And when you turn to him, the pale fluorescent light making you glow, you stand out more than anyone else standing there. 
Eren swears Satoru’s chanting “fuck a bitch named Scott Clarkson” in the car ahead of him and realizes that Levi’s probably in for the biggest headache of his life. 
“Ready to go?” you ask. 
Eren gives you a quiet nod, as you reach forward with your grabby hands for Teddy and buckle him into his seat at the back. Lana and Sukuna are at his sides, Eren watching them smile at each other through the rearview. 
Eren tries to stamp it out the best he can. That glimmering flare of hope that’s burning in his chest. 
And for the first time in years, he fails to do so. 
You were keeping his candle alight. 
--
You know for a fact that things will work in your favor, this time around. 
Hyla Clarkson, in her extreme annoyingness, moves the release date of her song up to that night – ruining the perfect plan that you had written out. Satoru’s more upset about it, that she ruined the perfectly cinematic moment that would have been.
Her new debut song smushed in bewteen Eren’s documentary and your comeback. 
But then you listen to the song and relish in the fact that karma is real. That all of the bad is canceled out by good – and that when it came to them, sweet justice was going to be served. 
There’s no such thing as bad PR. And from your standpoint – people talking about you, you being the center of attention, was the one thing that you needed leading up to the awards show. 
It’s almost too perfect. 
You had every intent to milk the fact that Hyla Clarkson just released an entire song about how big of a bitch you were. 
And make her regret it. 
Starting by releasing a song the following morning, your first in three years, to ensure hers won’t occupy the top spot. 
--
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--
next part linked here
an: ARE YOU READY FOR IT (revenge era for someone who actually deserves it)
(hyla clarkson you will develop a cough in three days for naming your album pop princess pretending like you don't know the entire aot cast calls y/n princess BC she's a pop princess...)
(I plan to write at least a chapter a week so we can wrap this sweet baby up!)
taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv @cowgirlikets @dreamxiing @mamamammarga @tangerine-neonlight @th0tformikasa
pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3
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mydearlybeloathed · 11 months
Note
THAT HEROES OF OLYMPUS IMAGINE WAS SO GOOD FR like nil it reminded me of the eternals BUT PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE MAKE A PT2
𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the eight get together for first time since Y/N's funeral, and it's a cause for some serious looks into their future.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: allusions to leo x fem!reader, heroes of olympus x fem!reader
𝐚/𝐧: omg you're so right it is like the eternals AND THANKS SM 🥰
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Christmas Eve hadn’t ever been so crowded, and honestly, Sally was a bit overwhelmed. Nevertheless, she'd never wish it any other way; her son was happy, and his wife was happy, so she was happy.
Besides, she wasn't stuck to the kitchen all alone. Estella and Paul were right at her side, and so were her grandchildren, Margot and Zoe.
Well, Margot and Zoe were fighting more than helping, spreading puffs of flour into the air with every punch and chokehold they threw out.
Sally let out a breath to calm herself as she very nearly dropped the tray of casserole due to their chase around the kitchen. Paul, who had gained a sense for Sally's temper, looked up form across the room and noticed the furrow of her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut.
"Girls," he snapped, snatching the rolling pin from Zoe and grabbing Margot by the back of her hoodie. "Please, take it outside."
Zoe, ever the oldest, nodded and dragged her sister out into the front yard. Hopefully, thought Paul, there wouldn't be a Christmas trip to the ER.
Further into the house, away from the stress of the kitchen, laughter rang throughout the house.
In the living room, sat around the hearth, were the eight Heroes of Olympus.
Hazel sat on the edge of the couch, every once in a while looking toward the kitchen she'd been thrown out of. Sally insisted she didn't need any more help, but Hazel couldn't help but feel the need to.
Annabeth and Percy sat on the rug, criss crossed and side by side as they thanked Hestia no arguments had yet to break out. It seemed things were finally getting back to how they used to be; that is, good.
On the couch, right next to Hazel, was Frank. There was a polite enough distance between them, but every once in while they'd lock eyes and smile. The conversation between them wasn't what they'd like it to be, but slowly, they felt the ice slowly begin to melt. Both were hoping for a second chance, but neither knew how to ask for it.
"You're still doing quests, right?" Hazel asked him.
He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Not really quests. A search party, more like. Searching for more demigods."
Her head tilted as she turned to face him. "How are you finding them?"
"Luck, mostly," he said. "It's just me and Lavinia right now. We're following monster patterns for the most part, as well as just going to Olympus and asking... well, asking for a roster."
Hazel laughed behind her hand. "A roster? For all the people they've, erm, been with?"
Nodding, Frank chuckled too. "It's effective."
On the other end sat Y/N and Leo, the latter completely captured by whatever the son of Hephestus said. His hands were quick as he worked with several gears and pieces of metal, not realizing as his friend got closer to his shoulder to watch what he was doing.
When he was done, he held up a tiny model dragon, which he handed to her before going on about all that had happened since last they talked, which had been some months ago, upon her crashing her own funeral.
Y/N grinned down at the dragon, setting it on her knee as she propped her arm on the back of the couch and rested her head there, eyes finding Leo's profile again as she hung on every word he said.
"What happened to Calypso," she asked in a moment of pause. She'd been wondering that for some time, even before her "death." She'd been on good terms with everyone during their decade of disagreement and had spoken to Leo every few years or so, and eventually, Calypso stopped showing up to their lunch get-togethers.
Y/N never had the nerve to bring her up, mostly because she didn't want to come off... the wrong type of way about it.
Leo blinked, not expecting that, and shifted to face her. "Oh. Uhm, we didn't work out." His lopsided grin turned melancholy. "Took me three years to figure that out."
"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it. He'd been so happy with Calypso, and as much as that was hard to swallow, she wasn't about to put an end to that.
"Eh," Leo shrugged, noticing how her face had fallen. "It's fine. We're good now. Better as friends, I think."
The pair fell silent at that particular choice of words, an echo of a past they'd rather not bring up in their heads.
It hadn't been so long ago, to them at least, when they were sixteen, and better as friends had put some kind of impassable bridge between the close friends.
For some reason, they both reflected, sharing a brief glance, that bridge wasn't so impassable anymore.
On the soft armchair across from them were Piper and Shel. Piper had her legs thrown over Shel's, her upper body leaned against the side of the chair as she talked with Jason, who lay on his back on the floor. To her surprise, Shel and Jason got along really well.
"So you can fly?" Shel asked, a brow raised as she looked between her girlfriend and the son of Jupiter.
Jason sat up and nodded. "Yep."
Shel scoffed. "I don't believe you."
Piper and Jason shared a look, mischief in their eyes. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," she answered, shaking her head. "Just cause you're a demigod or whatever doesn't mean the laws of gravity don't apply to you."
"Well, they do still." Jason shifted so he was sitting right in front of Shel. "It doesn't work like that, really. I just bend the wind to lift me up."
"There's no way you're a fuckin' airbender, dude."
"There is a way, and I'll prove it--"
"Mom!"
Annabeth's eyes shut as she sighed to keep her patience. Meanwhile, Percy nudged her and wondered aloud. "How come they never call for me when they're angry?"
Ignoring her husband, Annabeth looked up as her daughters ran one after the other into the living room. Margot shoved Zoe aside to get there first, sending her older sister spiraling into the wall.
Zoe jumped back up with a grunt, just in time to catch her mother's stern glare and shape up real quick.
Margot pointed at her sister and shouted, "Zoe punched me! For real punched me. In the eye!"
"Was it aggravated?"
"Percy."
He raised his hands in defense. "It's a valid question."
Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose, though a little grin was fighting its way onto her lips. "Zoe, do not deck your sister in the face."
"Ha!"
"Margot," Annabeth warned. "Do not do anything garnering a deck in the face."
The sisters glared at each other before they said in unison, "Yes, Ma'am" and ran back outside, this time with their Aunt Stella marching after them, slouching and frustrated at being sent to be their babysitter by her mother.
Annabeth sighed and leaned into her husband's side, feeling his laughter in his chest before she heard it. He rubbed at her shoulders. "We haven't decided whose genetics trumped the others yet."
"It's obvious," Y/N said, looking up from the little toy dragon in her lap.
The parents shared a look before Annabeth asked, "Really?"
Y/N nodded. "Yeah. Margot may look just like Sally, but she's all Annie's sass and smarts. And Zoe's a tiny little Percy, except maybe a bit more self-aware."
Percy scoffed, nearly offended, as Annabeth chuckled. Y/N leaned back, reclining into the soft couch, and let her exhaustion get the better of her as she confessed, "I can't wait till I have kids someday."
An instant later, her cheeks were rosy as she sat straight up, glaring at Hazel's little snicker. "I mean, not mine, obviously."
Leo's brows quirked as he turned to face her entirely on the couch. "Why obviously?"
She realized then she'd actually never told anyone. "Oh, uhm," she stammered. "I... uh, I learned a while back I can't. Something in my DNA. I dunno..."
Suddenly, her little slip up wasn't so funny. Piper shifted so she was sitting up, beside Shel on the armchair. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry."
Y/N was quick to shake my hands in dismissal, a tiny grin on her face. "No, don't be. I have other options, if I ever get a life and move out of the Big House."
Annabeth tilted her head at that, her hand still in Percy's. "But you love being a counselor?"
"I do! Don't get me wrong," she said, starting to laugh a little awkwardly now that everyone was looking at her. "I just... I wish I hadn't clung to Camp like I had, you know? I shoulda gone to New Rome and gone to college with you guys instead of settling for never getting passed tenth grade."
Now it was Frank that turned to face her. "Y/N, you know it's not too late, right? NRU has GED programs."
Percy nodded. "And then you can apply. I'm sure Reyna and Jason would give you a recommendation or something."
"Definitely," said Jason.
Though the prospect of it was exciting, she ducked her chin and sank deeper into the cushions. "But... guys. I'm bordering on twenty-five..."
Before anyone could say anything else, reassure her it wasn't too late, the man beside her blurted, "I'll do it with you."
Everyone's heads darted in Leo's direction. Leo was smart. Insanely smart. But he'd made it clear school just wasn't for him. He was well enough off, and had a good job working at a garage not too far from the Waystation. He had no need to go back to school.
"What?" Y/N voiced the thought whirling around the room.
He just shrugged. "I've been thinking about it for a while, to be honest."
"You're not just saying that?" Y/N asked. "Cause I-I don't need you to do that for me, Leo. I know how difficult it was for you."
"I'm serious," he insisted. "Fixing motorcycles and cars is fun and all, but there's only so many oil changes a man can do before he has an existential crisis."
He wanted to be an engineer. He'd always wanted to be engineer, really, but it always felt so far away. He'd felt alone, but Y/N was there, and she also wanted more out of life. She too had regrets, probably some regrets they shared, and he wasn't just letting that go.
So he shrugged again, offering her his signature smirk, and raised his fist up to her. "What'dya say? Back to school?"
Y/N probably stared at his fist long enough to make it weird, before her eyes snapped up to meet his, and a smile spread from cheek to cheek. "Okay."
She fist bumped him, letting out a loud laugh as Piper whooped and started a round of applause that soon had the living room nearly too loud to handle.
It was still going on when Sally and Paul entered the room, the mother ripping an oven mitt off her hand and crossing her arms whilst her husband snickered under his breath. He cast her a look and wondered, "Did we miss something?"
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cyborg-franky · 1 year
Text
Shopping Trip With One Piece Characters
Part of a trade with the awesome @softcenteregg
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Doffy - The very definition of “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”
Has money but you will have to pay for him all day when it comes to lunch and drinks.
Will be sitting at a restaurant at 11 am with a cocktail as he tells you about his week, regardless of if you asked or not.
Checks out the mall hotties.
Laughs when people open push/pull doors wrong.
Always has a cocktail or a Starbucks clutched in one hand, waving his credit card around in the other hand.
Rude to salespeople.
You will be dragged through the mall for hours because he needs to go into every designer shop he can and try on at least seventeen pairs of $400 sunglasses or he’ll die.
Will be the most overdressed person in the area,
When your having lunch with him and he sees someone he doesn’t like, he will be like “Oh hey! Been so long since we hung out, should do it again soon!” then soon as they're gone he’s dishing the dirt.
Also, you will carry his bags, thx.
Roger
Makes you wish you could get those reigns for kids but in adult sizes.
In fact, the entire trip is like taking a child out for his birthday.
Ever seen a huge bearded man grinning in pure glee at the new limited edition Build a Bear products? Ever seen one make like 12?
Do yourself a favor and limit his booze and sugar intake.
Is confused he can’t do a pub crawl in a mall.
Buys alot of those ‘alcoholic chocolates’ by the box load in an attempt to get a nice buzz going.
Thrift shopping but he will try on everything he can.
Does not know how to dress but does it with style, oddly enough.
You won’t get a chance to sit down or rest unless it’s dinner time.
At least he’ll sleep well tonight.
Kid
Hit’s all the stores that sell music and band merch.
Will snort at people who buy things he doesn’t like.
Throws around words like ‘poser’ and judges everyone.
The kinda metal kid who hangs out at the mall with all the wallet chains looking like their parents grounded them, but in their late 20s.
Will spend hours looking for CDs and just say he’s too broke and he’ll download it online anyway.
Walks around the mall trying to find the right shade of lipstick with Killer, both their arms and hands are covered in testers before they both just get more black nail varnish and the same shade they always buy.
Has a reusable plastic cup that's full of jack and coke. 
Taunts mall cops.
Killer
Imagine all of the above but he also spends alot of time looking at fancy new cook wear.
Will spend nothing on food all day but will drop $90 on a brand new crockpot or air fryer for the kitchen.
Very metal of him.
Thatch
Thatch is fun to go with.
Treats you, buys the coffee and lunch.
Is happy to do whatever you want as long as he gets to check out homeware sections while you look at your things.
You will never lose him behind shelves because you can always see his hair.
Like Jaws but with hair and ozone layer murdering levels of hairspray.
Will flirt with staff, will get talking to them for far too long, and hold up the line.
The type of person who has alot of change and makes it a personal challenge to count out change exactly.
Will carry your bags though, he’s a good boy.
Bit judgey on eatery places pastries.
Shanks
I hope you enjoy getting nowhere because when you're at a mall with Shanks or out and about in town you will be stopping every ten steps because someone recognises him and comes over and chats.
Has no concept of how long he’s been talking.
Is the type to have a pint with breakfast or brunch when you guys hang out.
Sale on ugly pants? He’d push you down to get there first.
Always texting the gang when he’s out.
Lol Benn guess what, I saw Buggy and he was with that guy, you know, the one with the hook, lol lol
Will drop Uta off at the mall kids' soft play area even though she’s 18 and still forget to pick her up before leaving.
Ace
Low key baits mall cops by loitering around and looking like an issue but has no intention of being an issue.
Might skateboard inside the mall.
Poses with ‘no skateboard’ signs.
Hopefully, there isn't an arcade in the mall because if you had any intention of getting things done today, that won’t happen now.
Hungry every 20 minutes and has to grab snacks.
100% the kinda friend/boyfriend who sits on the seats outside the changing rooms holding all the bags and groaning, acting like it’s the worst thing in the world.
Is one of those people who opens push/pull doors wrong.
Marco
After taking five minutes to park correctly he’s happy to go with the flow. 
Likes to have a coffee and a people watch with you, chatty and social.
But he will drag you to shoe stores and you will be sat there for ages as he tries on every strappy sandal in the place, walking up and down and asking you what you think.
“I like this one but I don’t know if it makes me too tall yoi.” while you can’t for the life of you tell the difference between that pair and the last 40.
If you meet him at the mall he might be late, very much the shows up 20 minutes late with Starbucks.
Has a tendency to wander off in shops and you spend half your time looking for him.
Doesn’t give a warning when entering a shop if something shiny caught his bird brain.
Benn
He hates the mall.
Imagine a dad who has to take his teenage daughter clothes shopping and that’d basically be him with Shanks.
Benn is a very ‘I know what I am here for’ in and out kind of person but he doesn’t mind going to other places with you.
Ignores staff-only signs when he knows there is a smoking area on the other side of that door.
Is the person to remind you of the ‘insert thing here we have at home’ and is a shop sensible person, though he won't say anything if you do buy another T-shirt that looks exactly like the one you already have.
Pretends to be annoyed at carrying the shopping, but he offered and he likes to help you out.
If you complain about your feet hurting he’ll helpfully tell you he told you to wear your other shoes.
Sabo and Luffy
Banned
Both have their pictures up in the security office.
Sabo for giving the mall cops the finger, graffiti, and shoplifting.
Luffy peed in the fountain and kept stealing pick-n-mix.
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starrydixon · 1 year
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Lost & Found
*Requested from this ask :)*
Era: Alexandria (Pre-Negan) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: None-Specified Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: grief, anxiety, comfort-fluff Summary: After losing the last remaining picture of your mother in a horde of walkers, Daryl takes it upon himself to get it back for you. 
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You knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to do: go out on a run by yourself; but what else were you supposed to do? Daryl was outside the walls hunting for the day, and everyone else you were close with was doing their own thing around the community. Since you began residing in Alexandria (which at this point had only been for about a month), you hadn’t yet found your…thing. Daryl was the recruiter and hunter, Glenn the supply man, Sasha was keen about watch duty, Abraham had construction, Rick and Michonne maintained the peace, and Maggie was the apprentice to Deanna. You didn’t have a special thing to help contribute to the community, and the thought of sitting around in your suburban home doing nothing, waiting for either your boyfriend or one of your family members to finish their thing, irked you to no end.
Which is why you went off on your own to do a small run at a nearby convenience store to scavenge for any useful supplies.
Everything was going fine, swimmingly really; you had managed to find enough supplies in the rundown store to almost completely fill up your backpack. Maybe it was because you felt the need to prove something to yourself and to your community, or maybe it was your ego, but you wanted to return with an overflowing bag of supplies that you’d have trouble hauling back. So, you decided to check the stockroom that was in the back of the store.
And that’s when everything went to shit.
Unbeknownst to you, the storage room was filled with lurkers. Your knock on the metal door did nothing to gain their attention, so you advanced inwards with the impression that the room was clear. Before you could even turn your flashlight on, your fresh and alive scent had awoken the once stupor walkers, causing them to instantaneously lunge at you. There wasn’t time to fight them off with the hunting knife Daryl had gifted you; there were too many of them and they were moving abnormally fast. The only option you had was to run. With grunts and curses escaping past your lips, you pushed shelves and debris into the walkers path as you tried to get to the exit. The heavy backpack strapped to your back lumped painfully against you with each jolt of movement you made. At one point, you felt like a cartoon character; sliding around the tiled floor while trying to maneuver around the walkers that were now breaking out of line and beginning to crowd around you.
Eventually though, after barricading the exit door, you made it out of the store, unscathed. The last thing you wanted was for the walkers to follow you home, and you were not going to jeopardize your family. You ran into the woods until you couldn’t breathe anymore. Once at a safe enough distance away from the convenience store, you nearly collapsed against a tree; one arm pressed against the ridged trunk to keep you upright, and the other holding onto your hip. Breathy curses escaped from your mouth, feeling the ache of your heaving chest and burning lungs. Sweat lined your forehead, and you were sure the back of your shirt had a giant sweat stain on it. Without even having to look, you knew your hair had turned into an unruly mess, with loose strands either stuck to your sweaty skin or sticking out in odd places. 
Needing some comfort, the hand that was once resting on your hip rose to your chest. Blindly, your fingers searched for the familiar locket that hung from your neck. Inside held the last remaining picture of your mother, and you often turned to look at the beautiful picture whenever you needed a little pick-me-up. If you wanted to get back to Alexandria, alive and in one piece, you figured looking at the image of your mom would help get you there. 
When your fingers couldn’t locate the metal locket, you felt the blood coursing through your veins run cold, and your once heavy breaths get stuck in your throat. For a moment, you weren’t breathing, moving, or even fully conscious. Much like the walkers, you suddenly found yourself in a stupor of your own. Slowly, almost as if you were trying to evade the inevitable, you lowered your gaze to your neckline. When you saw nothing hanging from your neck, an electric shock shot up your spine, bringing you back to life.
Explicits spilled out of your mouth as you desperately felt yourself up and down with your hands, hoping that the necklace caught on the material of your clothes or even the straps of your backpack when it fell from your neck. Instead of panting breaths, you were now breathing rapidly in and out of your nose. It was borderline hyperventilating.
“Shit!” You shouted in a panic as you began surveying the surrounding ground when the search on your person became futile.
Unable to concede, you retraced your steps back to the convenience store. You knew you couldn’t go far, unless you wanted to get lost in a small—but deadly—horde of walkers, but you hoped—prayed—that the locket had fallen off you as you were running away from the store instead of when you were still in the store. You must have upturned every rock and leaf in your path as you trekked back towards your previous location. Desperation took control of your body now, and you pushed your luck by even scoping the outside of the store. The famished walkers pounded against the glass windows with their rotten hands and stalked you as you paced up and down the store. If you didn’t leave now, you feared the walkers would break through the glass.
Salty tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you stared at the walkers. For a moment, you thought about going back in and getting the last piece of your mother that you had left, but knew it would practically be suicide if you did so. With a heavy heart and tears blurring your vision, you turned your back to the store, and your mother, and headed back towards the direction of Alexandria. Wherever she was, you hoped she understood. 
By the time you reached Alexandria, the sun was already in the midst of setting. The suburban houses that resided inside the protected walls had a golden glow reflecting off of the vinyl sidings that protected them from the wrath of nature. If you weren’t still in a near debilitating stupor, you would have thought the sight was pretty. You were hoping to return with a pep in your step, proud of the bounty you had found for the community; but instead, you could barely hold yourself upright due to the massive amount of grief that was weighing you down.
As you neared your home, you could see that the lights of your front porch were on, and that Daryl was sitting in his usual spot on the wooden railing, sharpening his knives and arrows as he waited for you to return. Before gaining his attention, you tried to straighten out your posture and hold your head up just a little higher. Your seemingly neutral facade was nearly foolproof, but the archer was eerily intuitive, and knew by just once glance at you that something wasn’t right. Daryl couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, and aside from the sweat stained shirt and messy hair, something just seemed off about your appearance. 
“Find anythin’ good?” Daryl asked as he watched you slump the backpack off your shoulders and plop down on the railing across from him.
For a moment, you could only shrug your shoulders as you were having a hard time finding your voice. Whether it was from shame or just the mere knowledge that you’d break the second you looked at him, your eyes couldn’t meet his. Instead, you kept your gaze planted on your clasped hands that were placed in your lap. “Got a couple of things…I’ll bring the bag to Olivia later.”
Daryl hummed in acknowledgment, taking note of the unusual weight in your voice when you spoke, and solemn demeanor. The archer let his eyes linger on you for a few more moments before turning back to his knives. Daryl wasn’t one to push touchy subjects, and knew you’d talk when you were ready.  
“Ya went to Cal’s?” Daryl asked, referring to the only convenience store he knew of that was within walking distance. You could only nod your head in confirmation as a response.
With each second of silence that passed, you could feel the protective walls within you begin to crack. Despite how comfortable the silence was between you and Daryl, it allowed the reality of your loss to set in. Slowly, you let your head rest against the column behind you, and stared up at the darkening sky. You didn’t know how much more of the silence you could take.
“I lost it.” 
Your voice was shaky and defeated when you spoke. When Daryl averted his gaze off his knives and to your face, he could see tears pooling in your eyes. Despite how vague your statement was, it suddenly clicked to Daryl why you seemed so off. When the archer lowered his gaze to your neckline, and didn’t see the locket, he felt his stomach drop. Daryl knew how much you valued that picture of your mother, and couldn’t even imagine what kind of pain was currently coursing through you. 
“It’s actually kinda funny…” You trailed off as an empty smile uplifted the corners of your mouth. With the back of your hand, you wiped at your eyes. “I had been meaning to replace the chain it was on, since it’s so old and felt like it was on its last leg…I just hadn’t been able to find any materials for it.”
You suddenly looked so small; with your knees held tightly to your chest, and your teeth biting into your quivering bottom lip in an attempt to conceal the cries you so desperately wanted to let out. Daryl felt pains shoot through his chest, and guessed it was just the physical sensation of his heart breaking.
“Do ya know where it fell?” The archer inquired with as much of a soft voice as his naturally gravelly tone could allow. 
“Somewhere in the store that’s filled with walkers.” Admitting it out loud caused you to inhale sharply, as your lungs felt like they were tightening and not getting enough oxygen.
The irony wasn’t lost on Daryl, and he couldn’t help but scoff at it. Setting his arrows aside, and placing his knives back in their sheathes, Daryl stood up from the railing with a grunt and shuffled over to you. He couldn’t take looking at that defeated and lost look in your eyes any longer. 
“C’mere.” With a shake of his hand, he motioned you towards his opened arms. 
At the gesture, your eyes and sinuses began to sting with oncoming tears. Without hesitating, you got off the railing and wrapped your arms around Daryl’s torso. Your face was buried in his shoulder, and you practically melted at the warmth that was emitting from his comforting embrace. Daryl’s arms were wrapped protectively around your body, and one of his hands stroked your hair. A few tears escaped from your waterline, and you felt the need to squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to stop any more liquid from staining Daryl’s shirt.
“M’sorry.” Daryl empathized after placing a kiss on the crown of your head. 
“I’ll be okay…eventually.” You reassured him, and maybe even yourself, with a sniffle. Pulling a few inches away from the archer, you wiped your face with the back of your hand. “It just really sucks right now.”
With barely any sunlight left in the sky, the temperature was beginning to drop. The last thing Daryl wanted to see was your shivering body on top of your sadness. “C’mon—let’s get ya inside and somethin’ to eat, alright?” Daryl suggested in a gentle tone while jutting a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the front door of the house. Reaching down, the archer grabbed a hold of your backpack as you began to pull away from him.
After a final sniffle of your nose and nod of your head, you allowed Daryl to lead you inside. The rest of the night was quiet; you showered off all the sweat and tears that had dried onto your body, ate the leftovers from last night’s dinner, and turned in for the night early due to the mental and physical exhaustion from the day’s events. Daryl tried to do everything he knew of to comfort you, but how do you comfort someone who is freshly grieving the loss of their mother for the first time? To you, having that locket in your possession, and being able to look at her face every single day, made the pain of missing her just a little bit more easier to manage. Without it, it felt like it was difficult to prolong that sadness and grief.
Daryl couldn’t stand to see you so distraught, it kept him tossing and turning for most of the night. Selfishly, he wanted to see the bright smile on your face again that always made your entire essence glow. In order to do that, he’d have to go to the convenience store that was filled with walkers. It was risky, possibly even a suicide mission, but Daryl cared more about your happiness than himself.
It wasn’t uncommon for you to awake in the morning to an empty bed. Daryl was an early riser, and inherently, liked getting an early start to his day. A part of you wished he had stayed in bed with you, just this once so you didn’t have to be alone with only an empty house and your depressing thoughts to keep you company; but you also didn’t want to drag Daryl down into your sorrow. So, you tried to keep yourself busy around the house by completing mundane chores as you waited for Daryl to return from whatever Daryl-things he was doing. 
Although that empty feeling in your stomach, and heavy weight on your chest was still prominent, the chores did help distract you for a while. When the pang of missing your mother began to become too hard to ignore again, you decided to sit outside on the porch with a glass of water and a generic interior design magazine to flip through. You hoped the fresh air would help clear your head. 
Before you knew it, the familiar sound of a rumbling motorcycle engine began to sound from up the street. Jumping to your feet, you watched as Daryl pulled into the driveway. Squinting through the blaring sunlight, you noticed dirt, grime, and gore covering the archer from head to toe. Within seconds, you were jumping the front steps of your home and running over to him; worried that something awful had happened during his presumed hunting trip. “Daryl!? What happened!”
It felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and it became difficult for your lungs to retain oxygen. You felt like you had just run a mile instead of only a few feet. With bated breath, you bounced uneasily in your spot as you watched Daryl slowly dismount from his bike. With the blood in your ears sounding like deafening alarms, you had to strain to hear Daryl’s grunts of discomfort as he walked towards you. Whatever had happened, it was clear that he had overexerted himself far beyond his limits. 
“I did somethin’ a little stupid.” Daryl rubbed the back of his neck as he stood in front of you. His eyes couldn’t meet yours, in fear of the scolding he was sure he would receive. 
“Clearly,” You deadpanned with crossed arms. Your once near debilitatingly worried demeanor had shifted to annoyed upon Daryl’s admission. Although you were relieved he was alright and back in one piece, you were upset he had put himself in danger for who knows what. “What happened?” 
You had expected him to tell you that he had willingly followed a buck into a horde of walkers, unable to accept the idea of coming back empty handed, or that some wild turkeys had unknowingly led him to walkers. What you didn’t expect was Daryl to hold out his hand with your locket sporting a new chain hanging from his fingers. 
Instead of being caught in a fear-induced stupor, you were now in a stupor of shock. You could only stare with unblinking eyes as the locket dangled in the air, the metal glistening due to the sun’s reflection. You couldn’t breath, move, and you weren’t even sure if your blood was pumping at the moment, as your brain tried to process how your locket was in Daryl’s possession.
“I made sure the picture of your mom was still in there ‘fore leavin’…wasn’t sure if the locket broke open or not when it fell from ya.” Daryl explained while scratching his blood stained beard with his equally blood stained hand. When you remained unresponsive, Daryl felt the need to say more. “And—uh—I found a pawn shop nearby n’snagged a new chain off some kinda diamond necklace. I know it don’t match the locket, but I can go to a jewelry store or somethin’ and-“
Before the archer had a chance to finish, you practically threw yourself at him and held on to his broad frame for dear life. An onslaught of salty tears streamed down your cheeks and uncontrollable sobs filled with relief and gratitude fell from your mouth. Slowly, Daryl felt his muscles relax, and he carefully wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. Letting his chin rest on your shoulder, the archer kept his gaze on the locket; which he tightened his grip around as he didn’t want to risk it becoming lost again.
“H-How? Why?” You stuttered against the fabric of his shirt once your cries had subsided and the flow of tears had been reduced.
“A whole lotta willpower s’all,” Daryl shrugged his shoulders as he took a moment to re-scratched that invisible itch on his chin again. With a bashful look overtaking his usually stoic face, Daryl tightened his hold on you as emotion suddenly swelled up his chest. “I just…couldn’t see ya so sad anymore. Anything’s worth seein’ ya smile again.”
“Even fighting through a horde of walkers?” You asked while looking up at his handsome face. There was a lightness to your voice, and a smile began to twitch at the corners of your mouth as you wiped the tears from your face.
“Two actually…” Daryl trailed off as his gaze averted yours once again. “One at the convenience store and the other at the pawn shop.”
“Daryl Dixon! I am not worth two hordes of walkers!” You exclaimed while lightly swatting his chest with the palm of your hand. Despite the scolding, a smile was beginning to break through the permanent frown that was once glued to your face. 
“Sure ya are…worth ‘bout a hundred really.” Daryl stated matter of factly as he puffed his chest in pride. With a roll of your eyes, you took a step away from him.
“Come on my knight, I think inhaling all that walker stench is making you delusional.” You teased while lightly nudging him towards the house.
“Hold up–” Stopping you with a hand on your arm, Daryl gently turned you so your back was facing him. Your knees almost gave out from under you as you felt the familiar weight of your locket drape around your neck and rest on your chest. Once you heard the clasp lock, your hands flew to the locket and your fingers tentatively opened the pendent. A lopsided smile graced Daryl’s face as he took a moment to admire the locket being back in its rightful spot again once he positioned himself in front of you. “That looks ‘bout right.”
Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip as it began to quiver as you looked down at the picture of your mother. Even though it had only been less than a day, it had felt like an eternity since you had last seen her face. Fresh liquid welled up in your eyes again as you took in the identifiable facial features that you shared with your mother. With the locket still grasped in your hands, you brought your gaze up towards Daryl. “Thank you, Daryl…I-I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
A scoff escaped past Daryl’s lips and he shook his head fiercely. Taking one step towards you, Daryl placed both of his hands on your shoulders and gave you a squeeze with each hand. His earnest stare seemed to be looking into you until he reached your soul. As comforting as it was, it was also incredibly daunting. “Ya got nothin’ to repay me for, alright?” With the serious look he was giving you, you couldn’t help but nod along in agreement.
“Good…now tell me again ‘bout those delusions ya think I got?”
With a laugh and lighthearted shake of your head, you nudged Daryl forwards towards your home. Your hand remained clasped around the most valuable object you owned as you ventured back inside. As Daryl began to strip himself of his soiled clothes (which you were going to burn later that day) you made a silent oath to yourself that you’d never lose the irreplaceable locket again. 
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A/N: I was pretty much melting as I was writing a good portion of this, since Daryl is just so sweet! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!! <3 
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eustasskidagenda · 9 months
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I'm bored and my head is full of One Piece stuff. So I decided to join the old N$FW alphabet trend, with my beloved, Eustass Kid. English is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes.
WC : 3869
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A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
If you’re just a one night stand, Kid’s aftercare is nonexistent. He will just tell if your session was nice or shitty (with his usual brutal honesty, so sorry not sorry if it hurts your feelings), he’ll maybe make a comment about how good your ass was and then, he’ll bark you to leave his room, or if he’s at your place, he’ll leave without any more word. Do not expect any form of kindness from him, this man is rough by nature after all.
However, if you too are engaged into a relationship, he’ll need some time to cool and calm down, so don’t talk to him or try to cuddle with him during this time, it’ll only annoys him. After that, he’ll get up and bring you a glass of water and something to clean you up. He knows he’s rough during sex and wants to make sure you’re doing okay, so feel free to ask him anything else. Once you’re comfortable and all your needs are fulfilled, he’ll lay next to you and give you his honest opinion regarding your session. He’ll let you rest your head on his chest, while he runs his fingers through your hair. Kid is not good with pillow talk (and with any talk in general), I think he’s more the type of guy to quickly fall asleep (and snore loudly). If you’re in a talkative mood, he’ll try to keep his eyes open but end up falling asleep quickly anyway. 
B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)  
On himself, bro is a fan of his own dick, I think everyone in the fandom agree with this fact. He knows it huge and he’s proud of it. I mean, he makes women cum all around it or gag on, of course he’s proud. Actually, you know how to boost his ego? When he undresses in front of you for the first time, ask him if his cock will fit into you with a worried face. He will be so fucking proud.
Another objective fact, this man is a fan of his torso. I mean, the shirts he’s wearing are useless as fuck, bro just wants to flex with his muscles. 
With his partner, Kid is in love with their ass. The whole Eustass Kid agenda agrees with this headcanon. He wants to see your booty all the time : spank it,  grab it, makes it jiggle, even bites on those juicy cheeks. Damn, his hand(s) is/are always glued to your glute. 
C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)  
Well, regarding his cum itself, it’s on the thicker side and there’s quite a lot of it. Definitely not really tasty, but overall, it’s not the worst taste. 
Kid loves to see his partner covered in his cum, its fuel his ego immensely. His favorite spot are your ass, your stomach and your face. If he cum during a blowjob, he asks you to pull your tongue out and will cum on It before making sure you swallow every drop. 
With a one night stand, Kid will NEVER cum inside. He’s already a Kid lol, having another one kiddo is not in his plans. Actually, if you ask him to cum inside, he’ll get mad at you and starts to think you want to have a child with him, so the mood is totally ruined.
If you’re his lover, he’ll maybe cum inside you, depending to your menstruation cycle. He just loves seeing his seed slowly flowing out of your pussy and stuffed his fingers to put every drop right back inside of you. 
D:Dirty Secret
Well it’s not a dirty secret but considering how cocky and arrogant he always acts, it is for him. The fact is, sometime, Kid likes when you take all the initiatives and do all the work. Yeah, I know, at the first look it doesn’t match his energy, but sometimes, Kid can get pretty tired, especially since he lost his arm. He rarely use his metal arm in bed because he’s afraid of hurting you. And doing everything with one arm can be exhausting from time to time. So please, offer him some relieve, be a good girl and ride him. 
Plus, of course, Kid loves anal sex. Fucking, fingering or licking that ass is a major turn on for him. Maybe some people find anal sex dirty, but not him. He LOVES how naughty it is, how tight an asshole is and how flustered his partner is when he spreads their ass cheek to lick their hole. 
And, since Kid is a punk, you CAN’T convince me this man have a single heterosexual bone in his body. Kid is not straight, I can smell it. I think he’s bisexual.So he often has fantasies regarding a threesome with a man. If you’re a one night stand, he doesn’t mind sharing because he just doesn’t care about you. If you’re his lover, he’ll maybe try if you insist on a lot, but will fix a lot of rules, like the other man can’t kiss you or put their dick inside your pussy. Your pussy is his and only his.
E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Considering how much Kid cares about his reputation, he knows what he’s into doing in bed. Sure, during his first times, it was a bit messy, but he’s a fast learner and good at following his instincts.
He also has no shame to ask you to touch yourself, so he knows what you like and how to make you cum as many times at possible. 
Overall, Kid doesn’t have a lot of experience, I mean, he didn’t fuck with hundred of guys/women. But he’s not a virgin. He’s just really focused on his goal of becoming the PK and one night stand only happens from time to time. Considering how asocial he’s, I think he needs to feel a kind of connexion to have sex with someone, even if it’s just for one night. 
F: Favorite Position
Literally, any variation of doggy style. Kid is an ass man, so he wants and needs to see the ass he’s fucking. Plus, he’s a rough guy, with wild instincts and seeing someone all helpless, on all four awake his carnal desires.
The more helpless you are in front of him, the more he’s turned on. He likes to see your pussy and asshole clenching desperately, waiting to be filled. While he thrusts into you, he just loves seeing your ass giggled and leave some hand prints when he spank you. If he can tie your wrists or pull on your hair, then, it’s even better. Seeing you, your chest against the mattress and your ass up in the sky is his favorite view. Plus, he can see his cock thrusting inside of you, coat of your juice. What a delight. 
With his lover, he also likes matting press. Just because you always cry out, complaining about how big he’s and how deep he’s fucking you in this position. He’ll never stop looking at you and your flustered expression. 
As I said in the dirty secret, Kid also likes to leave all the work for you sometime. In this case, he’ll go with reverse cowgirl. He can see your ass, hold your hips with one hand, or just lay back and watch you bounce up and down desperately on his cock. Seeing his dick buried deep inside of you will make him growl of satisfaction. 
G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  
Not goofy at all. Sex isn’t supposed to be funny for Kid. I think he can laugh, like while he’s teasing you, he’ll make fun of you, like "look at you, crying for my cock, you’re such a crybaby" but that’s all. Never, lord, never, you’ll hear Kid joking during sex.
If someone laughs at him during sex, then, he’s pissed off. With a night one stand, the mood is just ruined and he’ll leave. With his lover, he’ll get mad too, and also kinda hurt in his pride. He wants to make you feel good and cum at least once, so if you laugh at him, he'll think he’s not doing a good work. It will take a lot of time to reassure him after laughing at him.
H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Lol, I don’t think someone will live after asking him such a question.
But the carpet matches the drapes. 
Honestly, I don’t see Kid as a very hairy guy. 
And it’s maybe an unpopular opinion, but I think Kid takes care of himself. I mean, his manicure and make-up are always nailed. So when it’s starting to be hairy down there, he’ll trim it and cursed during the whole process, but that’s just Kid, always cursing. 
I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
With a one night stand ? Zero intimacy. Just rough sex and two people trying to reach ecstasy. 
With his lover, Kid is still not a romantic. For him, sex is not a way to express his love, it’s just a way to make the both of you feels good. He doesn’t understand the making love, lovey lovey dovey, crappy stuff. Having sex with his s/o means something to him, but the romantic side of it just fly over his head. 
J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)  
Considering his huge sex drive, Kid masturbate a lot. 
If you’re around and in the mood, then, he’d rather fuck with you than jack off. But if you’re not there, or not willing to have sex, he’ll just use his hand.
Everytime he sneaks around alone, you can be sure he’s jacking off and his crew already walk in while he was giving himself a little self-care time. 
K: Kinks (One or more of their kinks)
Humiliation/Praises : Calling his partner a whore, a slut and feeling them tightening around his cock. He likes to see how flustered he can makes you with his words. But if you’re not into degrading stuff, he doesn’t mind using praises, like "look at you, taking all of my cock so well,  that’s my girl", "that’s it, just take it all", "you feel so good around my cock" , "your pussy tighten around my cock, it won’t let me go, you like my dick that much?", "be a good girl and stay still" Etc
And he expects you to praise him as well. Tell him how good he’s fucking you, how good his cock feels inside you. And call him Captain in bed and you will have a lot of orgasms. He’ll make sure of it.
Anal sex : As I said in his dirty secret, Kid likes how tight anal sex feels. It always makes you flustered and he needs a s/o willingly to do anal sex from time to time. 
Pain : Well, Kid likes rough sex, everyone will agree with this fact. He likes to slap your cheeks, your ass, biting your neck, choking you lightly, pulling your hair. And he also loves when you scratch his back, pull on his hair and even bite him. It will make his cock throbbing inside you. 
Public sex : Kid likes to fuck you in a public place, the risk of being caught is a turn on for him. It’s just so naughty and sexy in his mind. But let’s be honest, if someone caught the two of you fucking, he wouldn’t give two flying fucks and just continues to thrust inside you. Feeling you tightening your walls around his cock because of the embarrassment will even make him growl and pound harder.  
L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)
As long as he can fuck you, the place doesn’t matter. Most of the time, he’ll fuck you in the bedroom or in his workshop, with you bending over his desk. 
He also likes fucking you on the deck, it matches his public sex kink. He’ll bend you over the railing, so hey, it’s quite romantic, to watch the sunset and the ocean while he’s plowing into you like the wild animal he’s.
But let’s be honest, Kid will fuck you anywhere, anytime. This boy isn’t picky. As long as you give him your consent, the place doesn’t matter. 
M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
The rush of adrenaline after a hard battle. He’s just so horny after a fight 
Whenever he needs to release some anger or frustration 
If you tease him, especially around of people
If he watches you fight. It’s hot, to watch his lover fighting and it always makes blood rush down to his cock. 
If you wear his red coat. It flustered him, but also makes him horny. Same if you’re wearing one of his shirts. 
If you want to have the ride of your night, just wait for him in the bedroom, wearing nothing but one of his shirts wide open on your bare chest. Or wait, naked, with his coat on your shoulders. Damn, it will drive him crazy.
Seeing his lipsticks smeared on your face or neck. 
N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything involving piss or shit. 
Sharing is caring, but if he ever accept to have a threesome, the guy will never have the right to fuck you. Your pussy belongs to him, and only him.
Being tied up. Kid hates feeling inferior or weak. If you’re his lover, he’ll only accept to be tied with something in metal, so he can take it off whenever he wants and take back the lead. 
Anything involving waters. He feels weak in it, even in the shower. He needs to feel powerful. 
Pegging is not a total no, but it will only happen with his lover and when the relationship is stable and long enough. He knows where his G point is, and please, he’s a punk, he LOVES non-conformism. But being vulnerable, laying on his back with his legs spreads or on all fours, his muscular ass up, chest against the mattress while you’re pegging him ? He really needs to trust his partner, because he’s afraid to ruin his reputation. Probably a bit overwhelmed and embarrassed at the end of the experience, but it was good. Please, reassure him than having that kind of experience has nothing to do with virility and that he’s still the dangerous and well-known Eustass Captain Kid. 
Roleplay : it’s so ridiculous and humiliating for him, he can’t. 
O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)  
A receiver, not a giver. Watching someone kneeling before him, sucking his cock, even gagging on it, damn, it’s just feel so good.
He bucks his hips, fucking your mouth. If you drool all over his cock, it’s even better. 
If you can deep throating him, it will make him cum really fast. His cock is big, not everyone is able to take his full length and girth. Just imagine this man losing his mind, cursing and throwing his head back while you deep throat him.
He, unfortunately, doesn’t go down on you often. But have you seen how this guy likes to show his tongue and lick his lips ? He knows how to use it, I can smell it. If you’re a one night stand, you’ll have to ask for having you pussy ate. 
If you’re in a relationship, especially if it’s the first time you two are fucking together, he’ll go down on you, lick your pussy and drink your juice, making sure you’re wet and ready for him. Go ahead, grab his head, pull on his hair, he likes it. Considering how stubborn he’s, he will keep going and only stop after you cum at least once against his lips. 
P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)
Fast and rough. This man is a beast. 
He always needs to release some anger or stress, so he’s always rough while fucking you. Even more with a one night stand. 
He doesn’t want to hurt you, still. But his pace will never be gentle and sensual. But he’ll adapt to whatever you’re able to take it. 
He likes hearing skin slapping against skin, sounds of your wet pussy, leaving bites on your body. For him, sex is messy and rough. 
I can only see two ways to force Kid to have slow sex : 
If you’re a virgin and a one night stand : he’s pissed off. He wants to have fun, not to be anyone first time and all the craps it involves. So just take your clothes and get out of here. Yeah, he’s mean.
However, if you two are in a relationship, he doesn’t want to hurt you and knows his pace is not adapted for a virgin. He will do his best to take you slowly, in missionary, holding back himself. He wants to make you feel good and as you continue to fuck together, progressively, your sessions will be more and more rough and messy. His strokes would be really long and deep, hitting all the right spots. Imagine him, with his jaw clenched, sweats dripping from his forehead, growling huskily, the muscles of his arms all tensed as he’s trying his best to not slam roughly inside your tight pussy. Damn. 
If you challenge him, like, betting he’s not able to fuck you slowly, this man will have the slowest pace ever, just to prove you’re wrong. At the end, he won the game and you’ll be frustrated by how slow and torturing his thrusts are. 
Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  
He likes quickie, but not that much. Let’s be honest, if you ask him a quickie, the answer will always be yes. 
But he prefers proper sex, because he’s always 100% implicating in what he’s doing, so he wants to fuck your properly. 
During quickie, Kid will bend you over something or carry you against a wall, skip any foreplay and just slams himself into you, his lips against yours to muffle your screams. 
R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Kid likes to experiment, but only with his lover. With a one night stand, he wants to be in control and proves how good he’s. If you ask him to do something he has never done, then, he’s not willingly trying.
If you’re in a relationship, he can try some stuff and fantasies, but don’t you dare laugh at him if he’s not doing great the first times you two tries something new. It will really hurt is pride, he gets pissed off and less inclined to try new stuff.
Concerning the risk of being caught, well, Kid doesn’t give two flying fuck. 
S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
His stamina is perfect, he can last for a while. Good luck. 
Even with his rough pace, he can last easily 20 minutes of intense pounding. 
You’ll be tired before him. He’s quite observant with you and will notice when you really can’t take much more. 
His sessions are intense and you always end up breathing harshly and sweating, with your legs shaking. 
Kid knows how to hold back, but you can make him cum quickly with anal sex or deep-throating. 
T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He hates toys. Are you saying he’s doing the job so poorly, you need a toy to cum ? Okay, he’s pissed off. 
If you want to have a toy during your solo masturbation session, then, feel free, he will gladly create any toy you want with his DF. But when you two are fucking, no toy. 
It hurts his pride.
The poor baby has a lot of pride.
Maybe he can have some fantasies, like a handmade vibrator. He’ll ask you to keep it inside you during the day and from time to time, he’ll use his DF and watch you trying to keep a cold face in front of others while the toy tease your G point. 
U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)
He likes to tease you, especially with dirty talk. Just because it always makes you tighten around his cock. 
He will also tease you a bit during foreplay. He loves when you beg for his cock.
But due to his lack of patience, Kid is not the kind of guy to tease during hours. 
In public, if he can’t fuck you, he gets frustrated and tease you as a way to release some frustration.
If you want to tease him, feel free, but he’ll show you absolutely no mercy later, pounding into you like a fucking beast and growling about how naughty you were earlier. And if you try to squirm, he’ll hold your hips and growls to stay still. You earned this, so shut up and take it. (But of course he’s not a total dick, if you need him to slow down or even stop, he’ll listen.) 
V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
This man can’t do anything in silence. Of course he’s loud.
He grunts a lot, talk dirty, spank your ass, all of the time. 
He doesn’t scream. Just grunt and curse a lot. Just imagine him, with his low, husky voice, grunting close to your ear. 
He likes to hear you scream or moan for him. So please, do it. The louder, the better. 
Tell him how good he's fucking you, how huge his cock is stretching your walls and Kid will be more than happy. He's a simple man, overall.
W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)
After sex, if you’re in a relationship, he falls asleep really fast… and even if he’ll never admit it, he likes to be the little spoon. Just hold him firmly and tenderly from behind and let him be the little spoon, please. 
X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)  
Pale dick, pink sensitive head. A few veins along the shaft, but not that much.
Kid is a big and large guy, and considering how bold and cocky he acts, his cock is long and thick af, he needs the right back-up lol. He knows he’s big and he’s hella proud of his own cock.
Length around 17/20cm (7/8 inch). And the girth is scary. Good luck if it’s your first time. 
A shower, not a grower. 
His balls are proportioned to his cock size and heavy.
When he takes off his pants down for the first time in front of you, he’ll probably grins while watching your scared or excited face. 
Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
High. Really high.
Kid is kinda always angry at something and he needs to release his frustration with sex. 
He can fuck you multiple times in the same day and still be ready for more. And his refractory period is really short, too. So good luck.
In a relationship, Kid needs someone with a huge sex drive too.
Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Will snore 5 minutes after collapsing on top of you. 
After fucking you like a beast, he feels relaxed, his anger is gone (at least for now), same for his stress or frustration, so he’s sleepy. He’ll just clean himself quickly, or not, and fall asleep.
He doesn’t like pillow talk, but if you’re in a relationship, he’ll try to make an effort. 
If it’s a one night stand and not at home, he’ll leave and fall asleep once he’s back to his ship. 
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eldritch-spouse · 11 months
Note
Krulu just subtly putting a piece of paper on the back of admins skirt that says "use me" and letting her go about her work unaware
[Fuck yeah, that's the shit.]
Guess who's bending you over first? Sybastian.
He's always the first to get into the break room at the start of a shift, so when he sees you walk in fresh with that note, he's being the opportunistic little shit he always is and bending you over the counter of that small kitchenette to stuff you with cock. You don't even know what's happening, but there's a sweet lulling mumur in the back of your mind telling you to let it happen and enjoy yourself. So you do.
By the time Grimbly walks in, Syb is close to finishing and only hurries up in case the bat's here to steal you from him. Naturally, the waiter's more than a bit scandalized, but he understands what's going on when he catches a flash of the note on your clothes. So, of course, he more than a little forcefully tugs the top of your outfit away so he can fondle your tits and go to town. He has the decency to apologize and smile sheepishly as he fucks himself between your breasts.
Eventually, news of what's happening spreads. And the first to hunt you down is obviously Santi. He's barelling through the floors and pumping out pheromones the moment he sees you, making the most out of the opportunity to fuck you stupid in front of clientele and make sure you're a drooling mess. He leaves sloppy kisses everywhere before letting you rest on the bar counter.
And Gallon picks you up swiftly, of course. You need a little break, how about he envelops you like a big warm blanket, and you don't have to think about anything for a while except how good it feels to have his cock and several tendrils inside you?
Fank-e's no fool, he's prying you out of Gallon with the force only a man of metal could sport. You get to hang off his head tubes while he grinds into you with an unshakable, merciless rhythm. When the video is saved, he lets you off with his cock detached, buzzing inside you.
Someway, somehow, you'll end up in Morell's kitchen, likely tugged inside when the cook sees you passing by. You don't even get to say a word, he's making you hang onto a bloody meat hook for dear life while he plows you from behind like he intends to put a child in you.
Your legs hurt by the time you make it to the shop, trying to actually get work done. Naturally, Nebul's more interested in making you model different toys for the clients currently present, including several ropes and tentacle toys. You get fingered nice and sweet for behaving.
Belo eventually catches you outside, and while he's upset that none of his coworkers are being decent to you, he guiltily begs for a quickie against the wall before fixing you up to the best of his ability.
Vinnel grabs you like a hawk. You're made to put on a stupid slutty and colorful dress, the note reattached to it, before he introduces you to his stage and audience. You leave bruised, cut, sore and coated in his strange black cum after he shoots a load on your face as the finishing act.
Patches eventually weasels you into his laboratory with gentle conversation, though once you're there, he uses vines to tie your ankles and wrists, taking advantage of you wriggling on the floor to drape over your body and fuck your sloppy hole, moaning about how gross it all is and how he doesn't mind being the last one because you look really cute and hot when you're totally disoriented and fuckdrunk.
You eventually manage to get yourself free and standing, trying to fix your mess of a look before heading to your Lord-Master's side. Krulu sits on his altar with a vaguely satisfied look of second-hand afterglow. You're praised heavily for your work thus far, but the higher claims you haven't dealt with everyone yet.
You understand what he's talking about when you're manually transported to the aquarium floor. And he tells you to come back after you've been to the garden as well.
Oh, the things you do for your savior.
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