#a gem killed him the first time

[youryanderedaddy]

Dark Is The Night

Summary: A late night encounter with a patroling soldier changes the trajectory of his life - and, unfortunately, yours too.

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, threats, thoughts of non - con, mention of war, patronizing behavior, slight misogyny, hinted kidnapping

All he could think about was you.

It was a damp linden night, one of the very few old fashioned ones - as if time itself had stopped. The old colonel was laughing in short sharp breathes, skin spotting in red along with his sweaty neck, tearing into a letter he had received this very morning. The young soldiers were all over the tavern - some crying, some cheering over a beer and calling each glass their last, losing themselves in the rich foam that covered their fresh military mustaches. Christoph was alone, though.

He had no wife to write back to - no home to call his own, no friends or family to celebrate his final battle with. He also wasn't a rookie - so he couldn't drink himself blind in the pursuit of ideals, of empty promises of greatness to come. Truth was, his troops had won their fair share of battles, and today they had signed a treaty that would certainly benefit the district - the one he had lost his youth fighting for. He knew the capital would attempt at invasion, those greedy fucks wanted to bite more than they could chew - but that was no longer his problem. Today his contract ended. Today he was a free man.

And yet.

And yet all he could think about was you.

It was funny - he had spent more nights than he could remember wishing he could burn this half - dead village to the ground, all together with the maidens and the elderly still stick fending for themselves after the war. He presumed he'd be doing everyone a favor - he'd rid himself of the memories that haunted his dreams, and they wouldn't have to suffer any longer, not when all that winter would bring once again was even more hunger and decay.

After all, the victory changed nothing. The starving populace wouldn't starve anymore - it would simply die, having lost fathers, sons, daughters, farmers, merchants, healers. Nothing less than the very foundation of society. So maybe it would be far less cruel, far more humane, to burn everything and let them die with dignity.

But then you too would burn with the miserable souls of the damned. The man pictured it all - your beautiful skin still damp from the rain blistering in red and orange, and eventually black, those gems of yours trembling beneath your long eyelashes as the smoke swallowed your last breath.

The thought made Christoph irrationally angry - jealous even. Not only because he just imagined you dying, but because it was someone, something else stealing your final moment from him. Something else bruising your skin and forcing your lips to swell, something else causing you pain and suffering. No, he couldn't let you die. Not like this.

He couldn't help but recall your first meeting two years ago. Unbeknownst to you he had memorized it, citing each line by heart - envisioning it in his memory over and over each time he needed an escape, an outlet. The soldier wasn't one for softness, never one to dream and hope - but deep down he knew that this simple encounter had swayed the bullets. It had made him grip his rifle just a bit closer, made the biting wind just a bit warmer. He was a killing machine undeserving of humanity - yet you had saved him without even realizing it.

It was a cold winter night - quite opposite to this one, in the middle of Hell. The county your village was part of had been surrounded for a few weeks. Food was running low, and even clean water was scarce. All the men had been displaced a long time ago, sent off to fight in the eastern territories. Christoph was stuck at the Iron hills, a region so poor they didn't even bother to send additional armies to. If it lost, it lost. It held no special resources, no cultural or economic significance, no sea or forest roads to profit off of. All in all, no one wanted to serve here. No one but him.

Not that Christoph was too fond of the hills - it was more so that he didn't care where he was going to die. Whether it was on the eastern front, the western or even on the other side of the ocean, it didn't matter. And he had made peace with that fact - but before death took a toll on him, he was going to earn enough buck to buy good cigarettes for once in his miserable life. With real tobacco, none of that cheap imported trash they sold in his hometown.

And that's exactly how fate let him meet you. He was patrolling the border bridge late into the night - a thick cigar in hand (a parting gift from the general Murphy), humming to an old melody he couldn't quite remember the name of. He was alone that night - his friend had been injured so he needed to rest. The man was trying to stay alert, although the fatigue had long settled in between his tired bones and it refused to let go. The lack of sleep and the sheer paranoia was making him jumpy, ready to point his gun at the slightest of sound. He almost shot you that night.

"Colonel." You had whispered through gritted teeth, slowly raising your hands up as you approached him with a hesitant step. He blinked twice, unsure if he was still awake. Surely there was no way a young woman was out alone so late during wartime. "Colonel!" You repeated, putting a bit more force into your otherwise soft, calm voice. This seemed to snap him out of his trance and he finally raised his head to look at you, his sharp, intense gaze measuring you up from top to bottom. Just like a predator seizing his pray, like a soldier trained to keep his eyes on the target, he knew no other way to introduce himself other than with a silent, unspoken threat.

"A bit young to be calling me that, no?" The man snapped back, voice coming out more raspy than he intended - but it was hardly his fault. He rarely had visitors nowadays - no one wanted to expose themselves to the front lines, to risk becoming smoked meat, which meant he had little opportunity for chatter. So his voice had become rough - almost unnecessary cruel.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, blurry eyes focused on the weapon resting oh - so snuggly against the soldier's heart as if guarding it. "I'm not familiar with your many titles, sir." You explained with a certain bite. Christoph squinted, growing amused at your little jab, yet the black mask covering his mouth hid it from you. The man knew exactly what you meant. You were not used to so much surveillance on your step - on everyone's step, so many eyes set on you as if you had a massive red target on your back. You were not used to armed forces ghosting around your small homely village with a gun resting at an arm's length just waiting to be loaded.

He wondered if it was your first time running into a soldier since the beginning of the occupation. He wondered if you were scared - if your heart was beating against your chest like it was trying to break through the skin. After all he was indeed intimidating - with heavy combat boots and a black uniform that did little to hide his rough figure, the lineage of lean muscle and battered blistered skin that undoubtedly belonged to a man. A man whose hands were still covered in dirt and blood. He could kill you. He could push you around - get some entertainment out of you. He could shove you down and use you like a cheap village whore - and no one would care because that's just how war is. He was serving his country, he needed an outlet, and you just happened to be there. No one would blame him.

He couldn't bring himself to come closer to you. He didn't trust himself to hold back when faced with something so fragile after months of letting his fists and his teeth do the speaking.

"That's lieutenant to you, miss." He barked in a tone that felt familiar - a tone that used to wake him up every morning at 5 for weeks on end. A tone that he could still hear every time he loaded his rifle and let go of the trigger with shaking fingers.

He couldn't be nice to you. He couldn't be nice to anyone in this bloodshed. And yet he heard himself asking you for your name. It hadn't meant anything - it was a long night and he was bored. Lonely, maybe, he couldn't tell his feelings apart very well. You hesitated for a second too long before you finally gave him a clear answer. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard - not just now, but ever.

"Would you mind explaining why you're here so late, miss?" The man tilted his head, trying to understand your unreadable expression - somehow you looked lost in time, striken by fear and grievance. "I believe the general gave direct orders this morning. No one should be out after ten." He paused to take a long, dramatic puff off his cigar. "It's too dangerous. Especially for a pretty little thing like you to be roaming at night." He knew his boldness was making you uneasy, and that he shouldn't derive such obvious pleasure from your discomfort, but he just couldn't help it. He was lonely. He was sick. And most of all, he was a bastard who had already given up on life. He had nothing to lose.

"Truth be told, if you were mine I wouldn't let you out of sight, miss." He grinned, feeling just a bit disgusted with himself. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to scare you. To creep you out so bad you'd never go out alone again. Why he had got so invested so quickly, he also couldn't tell.

"I... I needed a breath of f-fresh air, l-leutenant." You responded quickly, eager to leave this conversation as soon as possible - completely ignoring anything he said. Your initial confidence had evaporated as the wet cold crept into your thin coat. It didn't fit your frame - it was too big on you and it reeked of a man's first proper cologne. The thought of it filled the soldier with unreasonable, hot -red fury, imagining you next to some nameless brat with his hands wrapped around you.

"That's all?" The corners of his lips stretched mockingly as he let his smoke blow into your face - and you had to fight the urge to immediately wave it off.

"Are you, are you implying something, sir?" You fiddled with your fingers nervously, looking anywhere but at Christoph. He found it pathetically adorable. "Just curious." He took another long puff - his breath coming out frozen - white as it hit the icy air. "You don't seem like the brave type to me." His eyes narrowed to two pitch black slits. He must have looked terrifying to you in that moment, and he loved it. "So just what-" He pulled you in by the collar. "Are you doing here, huh?"

You froze in place as if he had pointed his gun to you yet again. You swallowed loudly, trying to come up with an explanation - but nothing came to mind when you were so obviously scared. The soldier could feel your heartbeat - he could hear the blood pumping to your ears as you looked around hopelessly for help that wouldn't come. And just like that the wolf had the rabbit dancing in its own trap.

"Are you just looking for trouble, hmm?" The man reached in to curl his finger around one of your loose locks. He didn't want to make you feel so awfully small - but everything about this situation, from the tremble of your lips to the sheer panic in your eyes was going straight to his cock. "I'm sure that with a face like that you never lacked attention, no?" He tilted his head with predatory malice. "But now all the men bending over backwards for you are off somewhere, dying as we speak. Poor little you - I can imagine just how lonely you are." He pressed his body closer to yours. "The thing is, I am more than willing to play with you in their pl-"

"Please, lieutenant." You couldn't stand to listen to him any longer, a thousand warm pleas already falling off your desperate lips. "Please let me go." Your eyes softened, trying to hide the first sign of hot wet tears. "I need to go home to my siblings. I need to bring them fo-"

"Why should that matter to me, dollface?" It was his turn to interrupt you - voice full of childish glee as he kept up with his petty torment.

"Because - because," You started off, hands shaking into little fists that you knew, realistically, could do the soldiers no damage were you to push against his chest. "Because you're a good man." You mumbled after a while, looking for the right words to say. "And I know that deep down you're kind and brave. That's why you're here now, fighting for all our lives."

You were such a pretty liar, Christoph thought. He could listen to your sugary sweet fairytales all night long, silently praying that they'd become true if he was only able to capture his own little fairy - his own miracle.

"What if I am not the hero, doll?" The man whispered darkly in response, leaning against you until your back hit the tree behind you, trapping you between his stiff body and the pillar. "What if I am here for all the wrong reasons, huh? Just think about it." He lowered his head so it would match your eye level - you were so quiet he wondered if you had forgotten how to breath.

"We're in the middle of nowhere. I have a weapon and a direct permission to shoot at will. I can do whatever the fuck I want." He made sure you could hear every single word clearly. He wouldn't let you faint before he was through with you. "I can fuck you right here in the open - or I can drag you to the barracks and keep you there for as long as I need to. Do you really think anyone would care about some insignificant girl going missin-"

"Please." You repeated, suddenly getting stirn with your pleading, as if you too had nothing to lose. "Let me go - I'd do anything."

His eyes darkened - then lit up with sick, perverse desire. He wanted to echo your words back to you just like a classical villain would - to really drive the point across that he was out for blood. Anything, you say? Anything at all? But he couldn't contain his excitement enough to voice those sadistically banal thoughts. Besides, he could already feel the adrenaline running through his whole body. His heart was beating rhythmically, pumping and alive for the first time in days, weeks, months. He wanted you more than anything. It was that moment he knew he was going to live - he was going to fight and win, and then come back for you as a hero. As your hero, even if in your eyes he would be more of a villain.

A nightmare you'd try to forget - and just when you think you have erased his fingertips off your waist, your face, your neck, he'd come back to steal you away forever.

"Kiss me." Christoph all but snarled, some unfamiliar, needy - greedy ball of emotion settling into his loins as your delicate face twisted into a petrified grimace. You began trembling in his arms, looking around yet again. It was pitch black, no soul in sight. You inhaled deeply, trying to steady your movement to no avail. "A-alright. I-I..." You whispered with difficulty as if simply saying the words was causing you a great deal of pain. And maybe it was, but the soldier could care less. He already knew you were made for him - made to serve him, made to make him happy. "I'll d-do it."

The man growled in satisfaction, taking a small step back. You looked at him, puzzled - your confused face was just as cute as your scared one. He couldn't wait to explore all your reactions - the way you'd squirm and writhe underneath him as he fucked into you restlessly, filling you up with his love over and over again until you were crying for mercy. But that had to wait, he had a war to fight. For now he could settle for a little taste of you to keep him warm during the cold nights. And just like that he tapped his lips, guiding you silently. You felt your cheeks heat up once you finally understood what he meant by that. He wasn't going to kiss you. He wanted you to put in the work.

Your eyes filled up with tears, and you felt silly for becoming so upset over a little kiss - but this was your first kiss, and you had to give it to a monster. It was certainly better than the alternative, with the alternative being rape in a filthy military cottage, but it still made you feel dirty all over. Yet, you had no choice. You took a step towards the man - you could feel the suffocating warmth radiating off his body towards yours, and if the situation wasn't so grim, you might have been grateful for another human's heat in the freezing cold. But now all you could feel was dread.

You stood on your tip toes, a shaky hand reaching out to cup the stranger's face. Cristoph smirked, complecent at your obedience. You licked your lips and slowly, hesitantly pressed them against his, just barely touching at all.

He groaned, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. He grabbed you and pulled you in roughly, squeezing you like a plush toy. He deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth, finding heaven between your soft, sweet lips and broken whimpers. You were so innocent. So lost. He wanted to take you into his arms and never let go. He wanted to keep kissing you until your lips turned blue, until it hurt to speak.

And then you pushed him off just like that, using your own body as a distraction. He tripped backwards, too shocked and lost in sensation to stop you. He smiled at your final act of defiance. It was, of course, adorable and so painfully you, yet it didn't really matter - not in the long run. You had only suceeded in making him want you more.

But that was two years ago. Now the war was finally over. Now he had enough to start a new life. Now he was a free man.

And he was coming back for you.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere soldier

[risibledeer]

its actually really fun seeing people over on the hermitcraft reddit discover for the first time just how amazing joel is at pvp.

to all the new joel fans who don't know the lore, he used to be pretty bad at it like two to three years ago. and then - just out of spite, mind you, for the mcc reddit predicting him super low - he grinded on hypixel and mcc island for hours at a time. like you could go on there at any time and there would be a 90 percent chance he would be online.

eventually he cemented his training arc by getting a first individual in mcc scuffed after getting nine kills in skyblockle - no easy feat as the record is eight kills and usually people get like 4 or 5 on a good day. (unfortunately his isn't considered a record as it was in a noncanon mcc)

when gem, etho and cleo say that he's good, you know he's good lol

#joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #hermitcraft #the reddit is going through the five stages of initiation into jeremyism #first shock #then confusion #then admiration #then comes the horse hatred- had to happen #and then lastly the realization that you are stupid smelly idiot #before you know it you've joined a cult- sorryy- religion

[cordeliawhohung]

Of Sea Foam and Iron [1]

general masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap

your beauty was meant to be a blessing, not a curse. the only way your father can keep you safe is by marrying you off to an ugly, scarred blacksmith. at first, it seems like your new husband wants nothing to do with you. you eventually learn that's not the case at all.

wc: 4.8k

warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, blood/gore/violence, minor self-harm ideation (no sh happens), arranged marriage, reader is a virgin, reader is very shallow, nudity, fear of sex, ancient standards of women (the characters aren't actually gods, but rather god-coded. they're mortal, but still fit the symbolism of said gods)

When you were a child, people often told you that your beauty was a gift from the gods, and for the longest time you believed them.

Certainly, it was only by Aphrodite’s grace that you were able to hold yourself with such elegance and outshine even the most precious of gems and metals. Even as a young girl your father adorned you with flashy jewelry as if to prove to anyone who laid eyes on you that you were the only creature in the world that could make gold appear dull. You enjoyed every moment your father spent parading you around because that’s what love was supposed to be; the unconditional admiration of all those that were so far beneath you. 

It wasn’t until you became of courting age that you learned better. Gifts of fine silk and flashy jewelry were commonly sent to your father by countless suitors, and while they were beautiful, he sent every single one of them back. Simple gifts of cloth and metal were not good enough for your fathers beautiful daughter. If a man were to wed you, he would have to offer up something that your father could not provide for you himself. 

Countless suitors visited your abode where they would drink wine with your father and eat the freshest fruit while they attempted to gain his favor. Sometimes, you were permitted to sit in on their discussion, though you were not allowed to speak and no one was allowed to speak to you. You sat silent and unwavering like a transformed tree nymph, capable of only observing the events that unraveled around you as you stared at the man who sat in front of your father. 

His name was unremarkable, something you didn’t think you could remember even if it had been carved into your skin. He was not handsome nor ugly, but you could tell by the vibrant color of his chiton that he was of nobility. A philosopher's son, or even a politician. Personally, you guessed a politician due to his sharp tongue and even sharper gaze. Every instance in which his eyes landed on you, you felt as if you needed to check your skin for cuts. 

All the silver in the world couldn’t gild his tongue enough to grant him the ability to convince your father to let him take your hand in marriage. There was no amount of cattle or coin that your father seemed content in trading you for, and you watched in silent horror as the man stood from the table with his finger pointed in accusation. A finger turned into a blade all too fast, and it wouldn’t take long for blood to stain the stone floor of your home. 

In either anger, frustration, or arrogance, your suitor had dared to pull a blade on the man that raised you. His blade was well made, built for killing men, but even in his old age your father picked up the very same knife he used to cut up fruit to carve into the man's stomach. The odor of his offals was putrid and you covered your mouth as you watched the man attempt to keep his organs within the confines of his skin. He failed miserably, and his body joined his insides as he collapsed on the floor as a bloody and gasping mess. 

It was then that you learned love was not at all something gentle and sweet. Love was the spilling of blood in a brash act of violence and the decaying scent of rotting intestines. Love was what started the war of the Trojans where countless men lost their lives in gruesome battles. Helen of Troy brought the end of an empire simply by existing. You had brought the death of a man for that same crime. 

As your father turned to face you with red and sticky hands, he finally realized what a suitor could provide to you that he could not; protection. Because despite his reflexes, and the body that laid on the floor in front of him to cool, his age would soon catch up to him. There would be a day where you would be alive and he would not, and should that day come before you were to find a husband, he was certain no one would live to tell the tale. Your beauty was not a gift from the gods, but a curse that could damn a nation to ruin, and it was his responsibility to ensure you were protected no matter the cost. 

After that day, your father would not accept any more suitors into his home. No matter how much they groveled at the door, or begged to see even the faintest glimpse of you, they were all cast away back into the streets in which they came. For months, your father combed the city himself in search of a man who came even anywhere close to being worthy of your hand. During that time, you only ever set foot outside if you were in the enclosed courtyard of your fathers estate, otherwise you spent most of your time hidden away on the second floor where no visitors, man or woman, was allowed to see you. 

Trapped in your own home, your mind began to wander to places even darker and more morbid than the Underworld itself. If you didn’t walk with such grace and have an air of beauty about you, then you would have never found yourself in that predicament in the first place. Some frustrated and upset part of you was tempted to disfigure yourself. Maim your face with a knife and become something no one could bear to behold. Maybe then at least you’d be able to pick your own husband. But if your beauty truly was a gift from the gods, and not at all a curse like it felt, you wouldn’t dare to cast their grace aside, lest you face the consequences. 

Eventually, your father found a suitable man for you to marry. You had begun to think that he would never be able to find anyone that would meet his standards, and yet one day he returned home with the triumphant news. Your soon-to-be-husband’s name was Simon Riley, and you were to be wedded to him before Apollo drew his chariot across the sky the next day. 

You knew nothing about this man besides the very few things your father would tell you over your last meal together. Simon Riley was an artisan, a blacksmith to be more specific. He often spent his days slaving over a fire as he bent iron and bronze to his will. In your mind you could already see his hands darkened from burns and skin wet with sweat from the heat. A man who could shape something as cold and unforgiving as metal certainly was a man to be reckoned with, yet plenty of artisans before him had asked to wed you. 

What made him so different?

That question plagued your mind in the early hours of the morning as you washed yourself in the cooling water of your bath. Usually a nuptial bath would be given under much brighter circumstances, both literally and emotionally. As a young girl you always imagined that the sun would stream through the window and light up the water in the same way ocean waves sparkled at sunset. Instead, you bathed by candlelight as you purified yourself for your marriage, because marrying off a soiled daughter was unforgivable, no matter how beautiful you were. 

Once you were clean and smothered in as many fragrant oils as your skin could hold, you donned your peplos and veil for the ceremony. Beautiful garments, the white fabric hung off your body and cascaded down your legs like foam, and the veil was as red as a blazing fire to ward off any ill spirits. If this was any normal wedding, people from leagues around would come to see you in your attire, to get a chance to attempt to bask in your beauty, yet it was no normal wedding. The only people who would see you dressed like that would be your father and your new husband. 

“It’s safer this way,” your father attempted to soothe you. The night air was cool against your anxious skin as the two of you snuck through abandoned streets. It had felt like an eternity since you were able to travel along the worn stone, and it was only because you were to be transferred off to the care of another man. “There will be time for proper celebration later. No one will dare lay a hand on you under the care of your husband.” 

An odd tingling sensation plagued your skin the closer you got to Simon Riley’s home, and the moment you laid eyes on the structure, you knew it was his. It felt like it was prophesied in a dream. Approaching the steps to the door felt strangely like coming home, yet it was wrong. This abode would not be a home, but a prison in which to keep you safe. 

As if he sensed your presence, the man who you assumed to be Simon Riley stepped through the door and into the dim street. Darkness shrouded his figure, making it difficult to discern specific features through your veil, but his height was easily noticeable. He towered well above both you and your father as if he were a titan, and he was just as broad as an ox. Power and confidence exuded from him, and the only weakness he showed was a limp as he walked down the steps to the street. 

“Quickly,” your father prompted as the man approached, “lift the veil and she is yours. Yours to cherish. To protect.” 

Simon stopped in front of you and stood still for so long you feared he second guessed the whole arrangement. As much as you didn’t really want to get married, not like that in the darkness of a street in front of a stranger's home, you knew it was necessary. You would not be the reason more blood was spilled over pathetic jealousy. A part of you just wished that everything was as glamorous as was once promised to you. 

Eventually you watched as his fingers pinched the sheer fabric of your veil and he peeled back your disguise with so much care it was as if he was afraid to harm you. There in the dim glow of the impending dawn, you saw your husband for the first time. He stood as tall as a warhorse and just as scarred as one. His nose was large and crooked and adorned with puffy, raised tissue that threatened the thin skin of his eye and tender rose of his lips. Dull eyes scanned the features of your face as he let the veil fall along your back. Despite your beauty, he almost seemed uninterested in you, and you weren’t sure if you should have been grateful for that. 

“It is done,” your father concluded. He held out the leather pack that he had gathered a handful of your items in. Clothes, a few necklaces and bracelets, and a hairbrush was all you had to your name. Should you need anything else, your new husband would provide for you. “Hurry, inside. She is yours, now. Keep her safe.”

Without hesitation, Simon took your pack from your fathers hands before he rested his hand on your low back. Even through the fabric of your dress you could feel the coarseness of his palm as he urged you up the stone steps towards the entrance. You glanced over your shoulder and took in the view of your fathers features. For all you knew, it was the last time you would ever get to see him. 

“You have my word,” Simon promised. Those were the first words you had heard him speak, and they were an oath. 

Pale candlelight consumed you as Simon closed the door behind the two of you, locking you in your new home. It was only then that the true panic began to rattle its cry within your ribcage. You had been given away to a man you had never met before in the name of protecting you, and yet you had still been wedded all the same. There were certain expectations given to a new wife, one that you knew a man would be stupid to not take advantage of with a woman of your blessing. The very idea made your hands clammy, and you found yourself running your palms along your peplos in an attempt to rid yourself of the moisture. 

“Come,” Simon urged as he crossed through the entryway. 

Obeying him, you followed close behind him with careful and light feet as he led you through your new home. There was a vague scent of sweet fruit and warm bread that trailed behind you as he climbed the stairs up to the second floor. Though you tried to ignore it, your eyes couldn’t look away from the obvious limp in his step. His short chiton revealed several gnarly scars on his left leg even more fierce than the ones on his face. It was as if someone attempted to hack his knee off with a dull blade and pitifully failed. Was this man, this battered and ugly man, truly supposed to be your protector? 

Simon brought you to a room that was obviously his bed chambers, and had you not felt slight terror about the events that might unfold in that room, you would have been utterly stunned. Never before had you seen a bed so large. Sure, the man himself nearly scraped the ceiling with the top of his head, and so it only made sense that his bed matched his size, but it was near ridiculous. Its width spanned nearly from wall to wall, wide enough to fit three grown men comfortably, and the length had a good foot on Simon, if not more. There was hardly enough room for anything else in the area because the object took up the entire space of the chamber. 

“Rest. You look exhausted,” he said as he sat your pack on the end of the bed.

Confused, you looked up at him with narrow eyes as he gestured to the bed. You had the strange feeling that he would not be sated until you were at least seated on the bed, so you followed his outstretched hand and sat on the edge of the bed next to your pack. It was strangely comfortable, and dipped in low enough to swallow you whole. You wondered how much wool was used to create such a plush mattress. 

Instead of joining you in bed, your husband took a step toward the doorway before he turned to face you once more. Early dawn light bled through the closed wooden shutters on the window, which illuminated his face but didn’t make his features any less dull. 

“Help yourself to anything. What’s mine is yours. Plenty of food in the kitchen when you get hungry. If you can’t find something you need, ask,” he explained simply.

He spoke to you as if you were some lowly slave, and not his wife. His wife who had caused the death of a man just by beauty alone, a woman who had men lining up for miles for the chance of laying eyes on you, and he spoke to you like that? 

“Where will you be?” you questioned. 

“Working,” he answered gruffly. “My forge is in the courtyard. Don’t walk out there barefoot.” 

He didn’t give you the chance to ask any other questions before he limped out the doorway where his footsteps fell heavy against the wooden floor like thunder. There you sat, at the edge of the bed, still in your wedding clothes, abandoned by your husband. Still, an odd relief washed over you at the realization that you were alone. He had not stripped you bare before him and fucked you into that ungodly large bed like you had expected him to. Grateful that you had not yet had your virginity taken from you, you did as Simon had instructed. It had been over a day since you had last properly slept as you spent the entire night getting ready for your rather depressing wedding ceremony, and that weight bore down on you relentlessly. 

Removing your peplos, you donned a much lighter chiton before you stood at the side of the bed. Wool and animal skin blankets laid across the bed in layers and you peeled them back to crawl underneath. As you sunk down into the mattress, you were enveloped by a scent of musk and fragrant oils that was oddly intoxicating. The weight of the blankets on top of you held you in place, willing your eyes to close. Simon Riley was a strange man, but at least his bed was nice. 

There were many things you learned about your husband that day, none of which he told you himself. He was a very quiet man who truly spent most of his time working at the forge. On the first day you had been wed, you snuck a glance out of one of the windows to watch him work over sweltering coals and steaming air. Though his legs seemed lame, his arms had no such problem. Thick muscles flexed and went taut as he brought his hammer down upon white hot metal to bend it into shape. Sweat lined his brow, which he would wipe at with his forearm every now and then, and though his face was a right mess, you realized the rest of him wasn’t too bad to look at. He knew how to make a variety of things, from tongs to signs to swords, and he was paid handsomely for his work, judging by the large pile of coins and bartering items you would find on the table at the end of the work day. 

He never sat down for proper meals, but while he worked he ate enough to feed two grown men, which only made sense given his size. Lamb seemed to be his favorite, and there was plenty of it. Dried and seasoned jerky, a leg he would roast on a spit to then shred and add to bread, or even some he would fry in a pan. Your help with anything was unnecessary. He never asked you to cook, or clean, or assist in selling his products; Simon was completely self sufficient. 

The thing that caught you most off guard about him was the fact that he slept naked. Your first night together, while you were already in bed, he shamelessly stripped his dusty chiton off and tossed it on the floor, baring himself completely to you. It was your first time ever seeing a man naked, and even in the darkness you could make out the silvery scars that tore through his skin. He was completely covered in them, and you couldn’t help but wonder which of the gods had cursed him with such a body; something that could have been strong, beautiful, and powerful, only to be covered with errors. 

When he climbed into bed next to you, your eyes couldn’t help but glance further down to where his cock hung heavy between his legs. He wasn’t even hard, yet the size of it matched that of the rest of him, and you could feel your heart jump in your throat. Yet that night he still did not take you. Instead, the two of you slept on opposite sides of the bed facing away from one another with nothing but empty space between your bodies. He would not fuck you, and that confused you. Something must have been wrong with his body, littered with scars and abnormalities. Or maybe he was the only man in the entire world who was immune to your gift from Aphrodite. 

If you remained a virgin for much longer, perhaps you could escape and become an acolyte. 

The next month went by like this. He would speak a few words to you, spend his entire day working, and then sleep naked next to you in a bed large enough for a bear. He was not cruel, at least, in fact he was quite the opposite. There was always enough food for you that he would set aside on a special plate, and he bought you a new chiton when you had accidentally torn your old one, but no matter what, he did not seem interested in you. It was as if you were something for him to take care of, rather than something for him to love. 

But that was what your father had wanted for you, wasn’t it? 

Like a caged dove, you spent most of your days peering out of the second story windows to gaze at the city. Busy streets bustled with traders and artisans alike, and you would watch them mingle as they weaved between buildings like ants. On windy days you could smell the salt of the ocean, and you would long for the days when you were a young girl, collecting shells along the shoreline as sea foam gathered around your ankles. Things seemed more colorful back then. As a married woman, everything in your world seemed to only be the shade of stone. 

One day after a heavy rain, some excitement had been brought back into your life. It started with the sound of triumphant horns followed quickly by cheering. Deep, bass drums echoed throughout the streets, drawing you to your window once more where you saw countless men in a march spanning further than you could see. Their red chitons and leather armor branded them as soldiers, and you watched in awe as they paraded through the streets after what was obviously another successful campaign. 

But there was one soldier above all others who towered over them upon a warhorse adorned with armor and a mighty spear. Even from a distance you knew that this man was John MacTavish. He was a soldier bred and born for war as if the only thing he knew how to do was kill. People often said he was bestowed his gifts of war by the God of War himself, Ares, and it was a tough speculation to deny. Countless lives had been taken by his hands alone, and no matter the odds of the battle, he always came home victorious and smiling. You had seen his face only once before in the last victory parade he marched in, but you could never quite get his grin out of your mind. 

“I’m heading into the city,” Simon said behind you. 

Despite his sheer size and thunderous footsteps, your husband had managed to sneak up behind you, startling you half to death. You spun so that your back was to the window to face that goliath of a man with a racing heart. 

“Will you be alright on your own?” he asked. 

Still trying to calm your racing heart, you nodded. 

“Good,” he concluded as he began to walk away. “There is a sword in the kitchen. If anyone attempts to harm you while I’m gone, use it.” 

He didn’t give you any time to explain that you had no idea how to wield a sword, let alone kill a man, before he vanished down the stairs. Moments later you heard the doors to the courtyard open and close, and Simon’s body melted into all the other figures in the streets below you. It wasn’t his first time leaving you alone, after all, he had to get materials for his work somehow, but it was his first time instructing you to use a sword to protect yourself. You figured the countless soldiers that flooded the city had him on edge.

But if that was the case, why would he leave in the first place? 

As you waited for him to return, you couldn’t help but meander down to the kitchen in search of this sword he instructed you to seek out. It didn’t take you long to find it, as he had left it right in the middle of the table next to your lunch. Beautiful iron extended strongly a good foot or so in what was the most well crafted shortsword you had ever seen. Dark wood formed the grip, and there was a flared base made of gleaming brass for the pommel. This looked different than his other works. There was more flair to it, like it was more of a gift than something he would sell for coin. 

With tender fingers, you reached for the grip and took it in hand. Its weight was heavy, more so than you had anticipated. Holding it was awkward as it felt like it wanted to fall forward no matter how high up you held it, and you huffed as you attempted an amateur swing. Unsteady, your strike would have hardly broken the skin of any intruder. When you set the blade back on the table, the memories of your dead suitor bubbled up in your mind. The sheen of his blade as he drew it on your father, the blood and offal that spilled on the floor shortly after, and the reeking stench of death that followed. You weren’t sure if you could ever do such a thing. 

Simon was gone for only half an hour before you heard the sound of the courtyard doors swing open with a creak. You gazed down at your half empty plate where you had snacked on fresh fruits and cheeses while you waited for his return. Sticky juices coated your fingers which you quickly cleaned with your mouth before you stood from your seat and left to greet your husband. 

He wasn’t alone. Another man accompanied him clad in light armor and a sword strapped to his hip; a soldier, likely one of the men who had just returned home. This man’s chin bore a hefty scar, and still despite it he was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes on. Battle hardened muscles bulged out of his uniform, and your gaze couldn’t help but fall to his powerful thighs as he took a few steps into the courtyard. It wasn’t until you saw him smile that you realized who this man was; this was John MacTavish. The hailed hero of your city, its greatest defender, a man who could cut down hundreds and come back smiling through the blood.

Simon hardly had the time to shut and lock the courtyard doors behind him before John’s hands gripped the fabric of his chiton. Words escaped you but your mouth opened in a silent plea. Were they about to fight? Was this soldier, Ares’s wild dog, about to slaughter your husband right in front of your very eyes? Your hands flew to the doorframe to steady yourself as you watched Simon stumble forward while John yanked him closer. You could already smell the gore, imagine the pink intestines and organs that would spew from your husband’s body and all you could do was stand there and watch in horror as John… kissed him?

This man, this near mythical being who had won countless battles in the name of your city, pressed his lips against your husband’s with such passion it left you stunned. And it was not at all unwelcomed, it seemed, as Simon’s hands rested on the man’s waist and returned the notion, curving his spine enough to meet the man's height more comfortably. As they embraced one another in front of you, the horror on your face quickly melted into confusion. 

“I missed you,” John muttered as his lips separated from Simon’s. 

“I’ve dreamt of this day ever since you left,” Simon countered, his voice more tender than it ever had been with you. 

But John would not be the highly acclaimed soldier that he was if he hadn’t felt the prying eyes staring at their intimate moment. Eyes as blue as the ocean turned to land on you, and your jaw slammed shut underneath his inquisitive gaze. He was not secretive in the way he looked over all your features, scanning first your face and then lower, over the curve of your hips and the hidden flesh of your thighs. While he nearly licked his lips at the sight of you, his obvious attraction did little to cover the confusion hidden in his eyes. 

“I didn’t realize we had a visitor,” John admitted humorously as he glanced at Simon. 

As you waited for your husband's response, you glanced at him in hope to receive an answer to the storm of questions that raged in your mind. But there was something different about his gaze. Rather than contentment, something else ignited in the darkness of his eyes that blazed just as bright as the forge he slaved over day and night. Whatever flat expression he normally gave you transformed into something so shining it almost looked like love. 

“She is no visitor,” he claimed with pride. “She is our wife.”

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #f!reader

[dr3c0mix]

All You Need

Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader

CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking

i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light

IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-

♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.

♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.

♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.

♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.

♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.

♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.

♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.

♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.

♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!

♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?

♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.

♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!

♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.

♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.

♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.

♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."

♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.

♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.

♠️ "Are you the applicant?"

♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.

♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.

♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?

♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..

♠️ "So you're..?"

♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."

♠️ "Baron..."

♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-

♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...

♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.

♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.

♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.

♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."

♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.

♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!

♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.

♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.

♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!

♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."

♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."

♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.

♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.

♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.

♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."

♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."

♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!

♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.

♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.

♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."

♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"

#male yandere #oc yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere x male reader #tw yandere #x reader #bodyguard x reader #yandere x you #yandere x female reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere bodyguard #bodyguard #x male y/n #x male oc #x male reader #x female reader #x female y/n #x gn reader #x gn y/n #opossumdoodles

[shaytheantagonist]

My Roman Empire is how the life series writes itself. Here are some coincidences that I think about frequently:

1. Every person who has ever won a life series (Real Life included) was paired with another winner in Double Life (Grian & Scar, Scott & Pearl, Martyn & Cleo)

2. Several members had patterns in their deaths in Secret Life (All of Grian’s deaths happened while a large portion of the remaining server members were present, all of Scott’s deaths were arranged & he let whoever killed him kill him, all of Etho’s deaths were from Scar killing him, all of Jimmy’s deaths were from mobs of increasing strength (drowned, dragon & warden), all of Mumbo’s deaths were because of poor walking (walked off a ledge, walked into lava, walked into his own fence posts) & all of Martyn’s deaths happened in different dimensions)

3. Jimmy being out first 4 times in a row

4. Grian winning 3rd Life & then being dead last in the VR recreation of 3rd Life

5. Mumbo always having his final death moments after Jimmy’s final death

6. Pearl & Scar winning their seasons after being the underdog the entire season & having it the hardest

7. The first interaction Etho & Joel had in the entire life series was while they were in boats

8. Every time Scott is in the final two, whoever loses dies to a mob they didn’t know was behind them (Ren in Last Life, Scott in Real Life)

9. Jimmy always cursing at least one of his allies to do horribly each season (3rd Life was Scott’s lowest placement ever, 10th. Last Life: both Mumbo & Impulse were in the bottom 4. Double Life: Tango played poorly and was responsible for 2/3 of their deaths. Limited Life, Joel was out third & The Bad Boys died A LOT. Secret Life: Martyn was the first yellow AND the first red despite literally winning the previous season. EVEN REAL LIFE, Jimmy teamed with Grian, Joel, Scar & Impulse, who were the first 4 to be eliminated.)

10. Since Double Life, Pearl has wanted her allies to win the current seasons, she has outlived all of her main allies every season since then (Big B in Limited Life & Mumbo, BDubs & Joel in Secret Life)

11. Joel literally & metaphorically being the reason Lizzie was the first one out instead of Jimmy in Secret Life (Lizzie only died because she was trying to kill Scott to help out with Joel’s assassin task, by the time she tried to kill him & died in the process, Joel had already failed his task & just hadn’t told her yet, so if he had told her that he had failed, she wouldn’t have taken Scott to the end & fallen into the void & Jimmy probably would’ve first out again. Also when they were hosting an early funeral for Jimmy, Joel opened the grave & told Jimmy to “Rise”, I think this was Joel unknowingly breaking the curse.)

12. The fact that Gem’s final death is always her coming 3rd & dying in a 2v1 situation.

13. Joel’s first death in Last Life was fall damage, his first death in Secret Life was also fall damage. The reason Joel ended up on red life in Last Life was because of the Boogeyman curse (both times), in Secret Life, he because red because of being killed by a Boogeyman. In Last Life Joel’s final death was at the hands of Scott, causing him to place 5th, in Secret Life, Joel’s final death was being killed by Scott, causing him to place 5th. I’m leaving out one of Joel’s Last Life deaths, specifically when he died to Mumbo in self defence, but that’s mostly cuz there are more deaths in Last Life than Secret Life

This isn’t even all of them, there are so many more!

#seriously this shit is writing itself #I think about this all the time how is it not scripted #trafficblr #traffic smp #life series #grian #smallishbeans #goodtimeswithscar #solidaritygaming #dangthatsalongname #rendog #inthelittlewood #skizzleman #bigbst4tz2 #zombiecleo #bdoubleo100 #impulsesv #ethoslab #tangotek #pearlescentmoon #mumbo jumbo #ldshadowlady #geminitay #3rd life #last life #double life #limited life #secret life #real life

[dollwrites]

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 — 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, coercion, dub con, giyuu treats reader like a pillow princess ( derogatory ), degradation, virgin!reader, dacryphilia, the teensiest bit of dd/lg vibes if you squint, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ pacify her by melanie martinez

“What would you do to keep your family safe?”

you hadn’t even stopped to think about it. the slayer was standing in front of you, azul gems cold and unreadable— awaiting your answer. you didn’t hesitate. “Anything. Just please, please help us.”

maybe you should’ve been more specific.

“Please be gentle,” you’d whispered upon watching him undress. you’d sat on your bed already stripped, hugging your knees as he did so, your eyes tracing every scar that littered his lean, toned abdomen. there were more than you’d imagined, some bruising that hadn’t yet healed, but he didn’t wince when he tossed his uniform aside. “It’s… my first time.” the apples of your cheeks were on fire, and you tried not to glance down at his manhood. it was a surprisingly difficult feat; you’d never even lain eyes on a naked man, and you were trembling, absolutely wracked with the anxiety of it all.

you look up at him, and he’s busy untying his hair. it erupts in thick, raven tresses that waterfall over his shoulders and down his back. those cold, blue eyes are zeroed in on you. “Be a good girl for me and I’ll be good to you.” was what came out of his perma-frown. your heart slammed into your rib cage in rapid thumping. he took a step towards you, and at first, you scooted back; you weren’t sure why you felt the need to recoil, other than how intimidating he was. he hardly spoke at all. the entire time you’d told him about the demon wreaking havoc in your village, he’d simply stared at you. now, as he was about to climb in your bed and take his compensation up front, you were getting cold feet. he stopped, brows furrowed, and wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. the movement glued your eyes to it, and they widened in awe. thick and heavily veined, nestled in a bed of dark hair and already sporting a girthy, red tip, he was a perfectly proportioned specimen, even to your untrained gaze. “You don’t have all day.” he mutters, running the pad of his thumb along one of the prominent veins, his eyes flickered to the window. it was still spilling daylight on to the bed where you sat, but it was orange and fading. “It will be nightfall soon. You want my help, yes?”

“Yes!” you blurted, nodding, “Please, please you have to kill it.”

his head tilted to one side, and he gave you an order. “Then, spread your legs and keep your end of the bargain.”

you do so, more or less ungracefully, opening your knees wide. this new position called for your hands to plant themselves on the mattress behind you, to steady yourself, and with the subtlest arch of your back, you offer your naked body to him. you couldn’t watch him stare at you, so you avert your gaze to the window, the setting sun bathing you in warm light.

in less than five steps, Giyuu was across the room and on the bed on his knees, grasping both of your thighs to pull you closer. you gasp, sliding up the ramp his legs provided. you could feel the warmth of his thighs as he drags you along them, the definition of muscled pads creating dips for you to ride over. the friction against your core was unexpected, and you elicit a soft and breathless sound. he arches a brow, watching your expression. “You’re sensitive.” he said, matter of factly, and you nod, sheepish, keeping your eyes far away from his. your knees were quivering, stuck on the outside of his biceps with your toes hardly grazing the sheets, the muscles in your legs were much too taut, making it impossible for the position to be comfortable. “Virgins always are.”

he’d practically whispered it, but you still heard it. it made you wonder if he did this often; did he travel from village to village, offering to slay the demons that lurked there and, in exchange, would deflower the innocent and desperate women like you?

you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you could even say, but nothing except a pitiful bleat escapes it. Giyuu had pressed the swollen head of his cock against your core, dragging it along between your folds, teasing your tender sex. you can’t help it, your eyes fall to the display between your bodies and you gasp, watching your netherlips slot around his thickness as it slides against you, the slit kissing your swelling clit each time. “T—that’s— what are you—“

“Shh,” it’s a rumble in his throat, his eyes shut as he just enjoys the sensation of grinding against you, “you’re going to soak me first.” one hand hooks around your lower back bringing your body closer to his, and the other keeps his cock steady and strong. “Your little cunt could never take me without help.” he was right, because the more you stared at the sizable tool as it rubs into you, the more you feel an ache in your stomach, how the hell was that supposed to fit inside you? his cock was shiny with your essence when he shifts under you, tensing his calf muscles to get a better angle, and after one, final rub, he pushes the thick tip between your lips, and it splits you open.

yipping, startled, your hands fly to his chest, giving him a faint push. the insertion burns, forcing you to open up more than you ever had before. “‘S… too… big…” your knees dig into his biceps when he ignores your whining and pushes himself deeper. “It’s…” panting, you shook your head, trying to squirm, but he’d got a vice hold on your body, keeping you in place, “not… going to fit…”

“It fits.” he replies, stern, and uses the hold on your back to press you forward, meeting his push, and your body yields with a hapless whimper from your trembling lips, stretching around his cock. “Feel that?” you nod, blinking tears back. “That’s me taking your innocence,” he insists, leaning close so his parted lips drag over your chin, not quite a kiss, but a growl vibrates in the back of his throat, “no one else will ever have you like I have you right now. Not the boy next door, not your husband on your wedding night. I own your body. It’s mine. Say that it’s mine.”

chewing on the delicate skin of your lip, you tried to control your breathing, but with each buck of his hips, he was pumping another inch into you, tunneling through uncharted territory, and your tight walls frenzy around the intruder. “It’s—“ you squint, humiliated and aching, “it’s yours, Giyuu…”

he moans, pleased, and digs his knees into the mattress to propel you forward, pushing you on to your back. your head hits the fluffy pillow, one hand landing beside your face whilst the other tries to keep a palm flat on his chest, but it slides on to his abdomen as he sits up at the join of your bodies. he grabs one of your legs at the ankle, allowing it to straighten along the shape of his chest, your foot hanging limp over his shoulder, and he nuzzles into it, kissing the silken flesh found there. for a moment, you’re caught up in watching the way he praised your leg, mouth forming seals over every inch he can, kissing it from ankle to knee, allowing the edges of his teeth to tease the sensitive area behind the knee. then, he cuts his navy eyes to your countenance, catches you staring, and you’re immediately sheepish. it felt as if maybe you shouldn’t be watching.

“You’re soft.” he says in response, hips falling into a slow, steady rhythm. this position opened you up to him, allowing him to delve deeper into you. his palm slides from your ankle to grip your thigh tight against his abs, using the leverage to bounce you forward into him, meeting his hips when they snap forward. you start to call for him, pressing your elbow into the mattress as you try to sit up, but his free hand grabs your chin, instead, urging you back down against the pillow. “Just—“ even his breath has started to tremble, chest rising and falling more heavily now, “just lay right there… Just take my cock…” his thumb shifts and traces your lower lip, eyes slitting as he stares down at you, “That’s all I need from you, just lay there, let me fuck you…”

your tongue pokes at his thumb when you whimper, eyelashes wet with fresh tears as he bottoms out and he pushes it into your mouth. at first, you want to reject it, spit it out, the foreign taste of saline on his skin, and the rough, broken pad that must be irreparable from all of the wear, but he only forces it deeper when you squirm and whine. “Suck on it.” he instructs, fingers digging into your thigh.

so, you do as you’re told, wrapping your lips around his knuckle, suckling hard on his thumb. when his pace picks up, and the creeping pleasure partnered with the predominant pain of being stretched for the first time mix together and overwhelm your senses, you’re mewling and sniffling, tears on your face, but you’re staring up at him, uncertain if you even want him to stop anymore.

he looks down at you, his inky locks hanging in his eyes, and he pushes himself hilt deep, stilling there, experimenting. your eyes roll back, but you clamp down around his thumb and suck harder, whining muffled. “I know, I know,” he mumbles. it was taunting, but utterly lacked any emotion, faux or not, other than lust. “I put it right in your guts, didn’t I?” you nod, looking up at him, your mouth sealed around his thumb, but you wince when runs his hand along your thigh and careens it over your belly to press down where he’s nestled. another pitiful, slurred cry. “Go ahead, make all those pathetic sounds you want.” he encourages, rubbing in firm circles, hips rocking, but he simply pumps at the same, incredible depth, as your head rolls around on the pillow and your back arches. “I’m going to cum just like this,” Giyuu shivers, rubbing the bump he’s created in your belly in tandem with his deep strokes, “balls deep in your virgin cunt while you suck on my thumb and squirm, ah, my pretty little crybaby.”

#giyu #giyu x reader #giyu x you #giyu smut #Giyuu #giyuu x you #giyuu x reader #giyuu smut #giyu tomioka #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you

[were-changing-cake-vaults]

See, the thing is, Grian isn’t lying when he says that the snails aren’t his doing.

He gets why people are saying that; the timeline of him finally getting the stupid book and the snails emerging from the sea line up near-perfectly, as if they were another manic machination of his boredom. It’s also the fact that they just straight up came out of the sea, or at least should’ve- he swears up and down that the pink one shot down from the sky, he saw it with his own two eyes. But, considering he doesn’t control the sky, the pink snail cannot be his doing at the very least. And the teal one? The one that people are calling his snail? He just found it after a particularly stormy night, chilling on the docks, and he found it just so damn cute that he took it as a pet. Both of those aren’t Grian’s fault. They can’t be, by that logic.

But honestly, by now, he’s getting a little worried about the snails, in either case of his innocence with them. He’ll be the first to admit that he’s not the sanest person on the Hermitcraft server—he’s not sure who is, really, when everyone has their own things going on—particularly within the past few weeks, if the beard and book count as indication. His memory has been a little foggy for a while, so it very well could’ve been him putting snails everywhere, and he just flat-out forgot for one reason or another. Though, that doesn’t seem likely- he’s strong, but not strong enough to haul a giant snail out of the sea and onto a literal freight train, nor does he have the patience to meticulously choose snails that are sturdy enough to replace the wheels. That had to be a meticulous and pre-planned process, something Grian doesn’t really have the time for.

This leaves him with three conclusions: if it is him behind the snail acts, he’s not the only thing occupying his body. If it isn’t, well, there’s still something causing the snails to make their way through the works of Magic Mountain, and it certainly isn’t another hermit, based on their reactions. If it’s a mix of both—considering he’s found himself freeing snails from the cages Scar put them in without remembering how he got there—then the snails aren’t so cute anymore, and Grian’s just about ready to—

To—

He’s just—

Where was he?

Right. The snails. They’re not his doing, pinky promise. Grian got his book, he filled the prophecy, and he’s stopped fishing like it’s his last day on earth. The bit is over. He’s moved on- why would he beat a dead horse into the ground like that? Sure, he can still smell rot wafting from the river, but he’s Gem’s neighbor, and she’s got that whole fish horror thing going on, so it very well could be her. Nevermind the fact that they were eating her lighthouse, and she wouldn't do that to her own hard work. And sure, she came to him when a snail chose her--the way he said it would--but she was probably under the assumption that it was his, just like everyone else. It wasn’t. He’s sure it wasn’t.

The snails would explain his white-hot anger at Scar’s little cooking prank; the way Grian’s skin felt like it was burning every time he looked at the pan. How, despite knowing that his friend was just messing with him, every instinct was telling him to kill him where he stood, no mercy. How it felt like the same seething rage he felt when Scar had fished up a copy of the book weeks prior, and he’d done that very thing. And maybe, just maybe, it would explain how sometimes, on the nights where his dreams are the most vivid and gross, he wakes up in the Chamber, positioned as if in a prayer.

But if it is…

A streak of fear runs up his spine. The weather, despite his dedication to the sea released, is still stormy and grey. The water is still murky and washing slime up onto his shores. The dreams of the book haven’t stopped, despite him clutching it like a rosary on even good days. The whispers of the wind are an angry, menacing thing in his ear. He thought it would be over once he got what he wanted. He thought it would be enough to satisfy whatever the ocean needed from him.

There is a rod in his hands, he realizes. He throws it as far away as he can. It lands next to a clump of snails, who all turn to look at him with an otherworldly menace in their pitch black eyes.

Just what has he released onto his home?

#oceans calling au #grian #hermitcraft #geminitay #goodtimeswithscar #woosh writes #ITS BACK BAYBEEEEEEE #YOU THOUGHT OCEANS CALLING WAS DONE? LOL. LMAO EVEN #Gem said ‘there’s something in the water’ and I went OH IS THERE #is this kinda terrible? yeah. doesn’t matter. #anyways enjoy

[rjchocobi]

HOLD STILL, PRETTY BOY, lee haechan

♡ . . . synopsis ; when your pretty boyfriend can't seem to stand in one place for a moment for you to snap a picture.

♡ . . . genre ; haechan × idol! fem reader, oh so silly fluff, inspired by the pictures from inkigayo bts they posted that took my breath away, established relationship.

♡ . . . notes ; i've been writing a lot these past few days and i think i'm over my slump. but i always start overthinking and never end up posting anything. here's to the first post on tumblr! just taking baby steps till i can put together something that lives up to my standards.

p.s also, requests are officially open!

"Lee Donghyuck, if you don't stop moving in the next second—"

Your exasperated yell does nothing but fuel his laughter as he ducks away from the frame of your camera, hands shoved in his pockets. Beside you Mark has given up wrangling his bandmate and stands under the cherry blossoms as you take a few stills of him.

All of your group members and theirs are spread around on the mostly empty street behind the SBS Open Hall. Beautiful pale pink flowers shower you with petals at the slightest wind blowing over them.

"Honestly, would it kill you to stand straight for a little bit?" You huff, putting the lens protector back on.

"I already have my whole day being filmed to be put on YouTube. I think I'm fine having a few minutes to myself," he says wittyly, making you pout.

It's not like he's wrong. He's just so infuriatingly correct about everything, and if you weren't such a sucker for capturing these moments, you would have been equally resistant to having a camera shoved in your face all the time.

"Hey, _____? Can I borrow your camera for a bit?" Jaemin's calls make you march over to him, handing over your precious Nikon DSLR with utmost care. Yet, if anything, he's the only one that understands your awe at such a whimsical sight.

You fish your phone from your pocket next, sheepishly approaching Donghyuck as he stares at the bright blue sky dotted with clouds. You can't take your eyes away from his face—from the sunlight peppering his skin in a delicate glow and making it's already lovely colour appear otherworldly; right down to the moles you loved to map constellations on.

Catching yourself before you could be found staring, you clear your throat. "Haechannie, can I please just take one picture? Pretty please?"

His eyebrows quirk up in amusement but he holds out hand towards you. You blink at it owlishly. "Only if we take a selfie together."

You smirk, seizing the golden opportunity to tease. "Oh, you looove me."

Contrary to what you expected—maybe a snarky reply or equal amounts of nonsensical teasing being reciprocated—Donghyuck only pulls you closer by hooking an arm around your waist, plucking petals off your curled hair. "That I do."

Feeling the familiar heat creep up you neck and towards your cheeks, you lower you head. "You're awfully sentimental today."

He scoffs. "What? Like I need a specific day to declare my overflowing feelings for my girlfriend." He pauses for a moment, staring at your dolled up face, a finger coming to press lightly on the gem sticker shaped like a star at the corner of your left eye. "You look really pretty."

You're practically beaming, soaking in this soft side of him you that adore just as much as his dramatics. "Yeah? You look very pretty, too. Now, hold still pretty boy and let me take a picture?"

"I guess one is fine." Donghyuck didn't let it show but you know he is flustered. Avoiding eye contact with such vigor was a telltale sign. You chuckle, going on your tiptoes to press your lips against his cheek, right as you click the shutter button.

Before you could pull back to inspect the product, he grabs the back of your neck, placing his pillowy lips on top of yours and you positively melt against him.

For all it was worth, you ignore the hoots and whistles of your friends to cherish these stolen moments wedged between hectic schedules.

#🍨 ── 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙤𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 ᵎ #nct #nct dream #nct dream x reader #lee haechan #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #nct fluff #lee haechan x reader

[rveyjules]

A Second Chance

Pairing: RE6!Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst

Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, stalking, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (mentions of masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings,  p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?

author's note: This story is entirely fictional. I do not know what the President and the Prime Minister exactly do for the country. Same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue so pardon if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first.

—

        It all started when you had an assassination attempt for the fifth time. Being the only daughter of the Prime Minister isn’t easy. The more your father becomes powerful, the more assassination attempts you receive because if the opponent can't attack the Prime Minister, their target will be his family and pick the most treasured and precious gem of his life, his daughter. 

"The President will help to capture those bastards who tried to kill you." Your father spoke, looking at you, who was fixing the files from the CIA. 

"Papa, this is the fifth time you told me that. All the men you hired to guard me ended up being fired." 

"Because they failed to protect you," The Prime Minister replied in a strict fatherly tone. "This time, it was the President who recommended this agent to keep an eye on you." 

"I hope he wouldn't think that I am being a spoiled brat and a baby when he found out that I am a prosecutor." You chuckled, shaking your head a little. 

"Yes, you are a prosecutor. Not just a simple prosecutor. You are one of the most powerful prosecutors in the Supreme Court. You have access to every government agency as the Chief of the CIA. So, it’s quite understandable that those people who tried to eliminate you were not just because of me but because you are one of the most influential people in politics.”

      You sighed and gave him a small smile. Your father has been stressed out with international political stuff plus your assassination attempt. And speaking of the President, both of them are best friends and they climbed the political ladder together. The President is personally closer to the Prime Minister than the Vice President. That’s why when you survived your fifth assassination attempt, it was the President who was one of the first people that paid a visit to check on you.

“Alright, I’ll accept whoever the President has to recommend to guard me. But Papa, I don’t want to be guarded all the time. You know what I mean. I need some private time.” Your father nodded in agreement. 

“I understand. I’ll call the President.” With that, he walked out of your office and was escorted by his bodyguards as he walked down the hallway of my office. 

—

“I heard our dads having a conversation about your assassination attempt. Are you sure you’re okay?” Your friend, Ashley asked in a concerned tone on the other line of the call. 

“Yeah, I am fine. The assassin must have poor eyesight.” You laughed but Ashley only sighed. 

“You’re still joking around as if you weren’t stunned when you barely dodge the bullet. By the way, my dad recommended the man who saved me from Spain. You haven’t heard about him, have you? Because you have three cases to finish.” Ashley chuckled.

“The two are successful, only the rape case left. But believe me, I was so worried about you. And don’t tell me his name. I love surprises.” You grinned. 

“Oh, no. Here we go again with that behavior of yours. I think you know this person. Because when I mentioned you once in our conversation, he was surprised to hear that you are the Chief of the CIA and a prosecutor.”  

“Do we know each other?” I asked, confused. Ashley hummed and chuckled. 

“You’ll meet him tomorrow, according to the conversation between the Prime Minister and the President.”

         With that, you started critically thinking about the person. According to your father, he’s a federal agent and was exclusively picked to save Ashley from an insane cult in Spain. But why did this person seem to know you?

—

“This is Leon Scott Kennedy. Your bodyguard starting today.” Your father, the Prime Minister introduced the federal agent who saved your friend from Spain and the one the President recommended. 

            And for the very first time, you hated surprises. This is the worst surprise you’ve ever had. Leon looks different from before. How long has it been since the Raccoon City outbreak? Fifteen years? Leon looked at you, scanning you from head to toe. You are wearing a black tight turtleneck knee-length dress, black high heels, and simple makeup but the matte red lipstick made you look bold. Your chest and curves perfectly fit the dress you are wearing. His gaze went back to you and swiftly rolled your eyes. 

“Bodyguard?” You repeated, hiding your irritation because out of all people to become your bodyguard, why this fucking bastard? Why your ex? 

            Your father nodded his head. 

“If he saved the President’s daughter alone from a deadly cult in Spain, then he can save you from assassination attempts.” 

“Papa, that guy can’t predict if there’s someone who will try to eliminate me.” You retorted and your father gave you a disapproving look. 

“We agreed on this already, Y/n. And this is an exclusive decree from the President. You are one of the secret weapons of the country so for him, it is also his responsibility to take care of you.” Your father reminded you. 

“I know my job, Papa! You don’t have to remind me of that! Right now, I can’t help but feel embarrassed of myself that the Chief of the CIA needed to be guarded as if I can’t protect myself.” 

“Y/n L/n!” Your father yelled, shutting you up. “For Christ’s sake, Y/n! Just for once! I am trying to protect you but you wouldn’t listen! And for the first time, you despised the man we selected to keep an eye on you. I mean, what’s wrong if this guy keeps an eye on you?” 

             His question made you pause. Your father must never know the reason why the hell you hated Leon so much. Even thinking about it makes your heart break. So, you looked down and replied against your will to not make this worse. 

“Alright. End of discussion.” 

              Your father scoffed at your sudden change of mood and aura. He had never seen you glare and roll your eyes at the agents he picked to protect you. You are warm to the four guards who used to protect you. It was he who fired them when an assassination attempt occurred and those men failed to protect you. But now, he sees nothing but the fire of rage in your eyes when he introduces Leon to you as your bodyguard. 

“Y/n, what the hell is wrong with you?” He asked. 

“I accepted him already, Papa! Don’t ask me such questions again. Just fire him the moment someone fired a gun on me while he was nowhere to be found. Just like what you did to my former bodyguards.” You replied, turning your back on him so that he couldn’t see the tears forming in your eyes. 

           And then, the Prime Minister’s phone rang. He accepted the call and there was silence in the room so that he could have a proper conversation with the caller. After a few seconds, he hung up and looked at you. 

“I need to go. They need me to discuss something in the White House.” He announced and you gave him a nod without sparing him a glance. 

            When your father left, you turned around and faced Leon who was looking at you the whole time, realizing that you are not the young girl he left for another woman back then. It’s true, he thought. You are no longer naive, eyes full of anger with the mess he made fifteen years ago. 

“You changed, Y/n. After fifteen years…” Leon started which made you smirk. 

“Unlike that woman who’s still manipulative. Bet you didn’t last.” You straight-forwardly rebutted and headed over to your desk. You sit on your executive leather chair and cross your legs as you rest your back against the backrest. 

“Tell me, what’s your motive?” You asked sharply. 

“It was the President who recommended me to the Prime Minister.” He replied but you shook your head in disapproval. 

“You can decline but you didn’t. There must be a reason why you accepted the offer. The government needs you to save the country from bioweapons but here you are, standing in front of me as my bodyguard.” 

“Well, I am protecting the country’s secret weapon so I think it’s considered. Besides, the President and I agreed that I will still work as a federal agent of DSO while guarding the Prime Minister’s daughter.” 

                 Well, he has a point. You hummed in satisfaction with his answer and opened a file and checked the documents regarding the case you are currently in. There was a silence between you and Leon couldn’t help but feel your anger behind your calm expressions. No matter how much you tried to not make this personal, the pain he gave you makes it difficult for you to calm your nerves. 

               But Leon decided to give it a try…

“Ada and I were not in a relationship… or even on good terms.” He stated, causing you to grin. 

“Not interested. Besides, you are nothing to me.” 

             You can feel that your words affected him but you don’t care. And there’s an awkward silence again until you receive a call from the Chief Prosecutor. At least it saved you from the uncomfortable feeling of being with your ex. You stood up and kept your documents in the proper places and grabbed your handbag. 

          You walked to the door but Leon moved faster to open the door for you. You ignored his presence and walked out of your office to the ground floor. Leon tailed behind you until you came out of the law firm’s building and your driver pulled up the car in front of you. Before Leon can move, you open the door for yourself and get inside the car. 

           Leon paused for a moment and shook his head and was about to get inside the front seat but you rolled your windows down and said…

“I do not allow my bodyguard to come to join me in my car so go join my other guards in the other car.” Leon scoffed and retorted back. “According to the Prime Minister, I shall join you in every vehicle you are going to ride.” 

“Are you working for the Prime Minister or me?” You sarcastically asked. 

           He didn't want to make further arguments so he sighed and just obliged. You rolled your windows up and your driver drove away to your destination. 

—

             It was now nighttime. You and Ashley decided to hang out in a fancy bar in the city. You are staying in the VIP Room while your bodyguards are staying outside of the room, securing the area.  You two are regular customers of the bar and the owner doesn’t mind if you two brought a bunch of bodyguards for safety purposes. 

           So here you are, sipping a glass of whiskey with your legs crossed and back against the backrest of the leather couch as you stare into nowhere in the room. It has been two weeks since your father hired Leon as your bodyguard. Having him around you during those days felt like being chained up again to your past. 

“Hey, you’ve been staring at nowhere. Are you even listening to me?” Ashley’s voice snapped you back to your senses. You hummed and took the last drop of the whiskey before putting the glass down and pouring yourself another shot. 

“You rarely drink whiskey, Y/n. What’s wrong?” She asked and you didn’t reply to her. Instead, you pulled a cigarette and put them between your lips, and lit them up before huffing out a smoke. 

“Knew it. Something’s wrong. Was this because of your new bodyguard?” She asked and you hummed, huffing out another smoke. 

“Tell me, Ash. Do you think my life right now would be different if I asked you his goddamned name before we met?” You asked. 

“Why do you ask?” She asked too while you breathed out another smoke and sipped on your glass of whiskey. 

“Because I could’ve stopped Dad from hiring him! That bastard has been getting on my nerves for the last two weeks.” You hissed.  

             Like your father, Ashley asked the same question. “What’s wrong if my dad recommended him and your father hired him to be your bodyguard? Y/n, Leon is one of the top agents in the country. He saved many lives and protected the country from bioweapons. And this is the first time you despised your bodyguard. You weren’t this cold to your former bodyguards until Leon came.” 

           There was another pause as you finished your cigarette and put it on the ashtray and drank your whiskey. Ashley continued, “Was I right? Do you two know each other?” She asked and you hummed again as the response. Even responding to her is difficult, especially when you're talking about the man who ruined you. 

“We used to, Ash. We used to.” You replied, chuckling to yourself as you tried to stop your tears from falling. Ashley has been your best friend even before his father became the elected President of the United States of America but you don’t want her to see your vulnerable side. 

“Used to? Like, he’s a part of your past?” She asked and you nodded your head. 

“Worst part of my life, rather.” You sipped again, gulping the strong liquor down to your throat. 

“You know, it would be nice if you would share your backstory with me. Even just the highlights, I’m sure I can understand it.” 

“Ash, he’s my ex-boyfriend.” You frankly said. Ashley gasped upon hearing this from you. 

             She never thought that the man who saved her in Spain was your ex-lover. This is a shocking revelation for her. Ashley recalled the moments she mentioned you during her conversation with him back in 2005. Leon’s reaction was still clear in her memory when she told him that you are a prosecutor and one of the most powerful ones in the Supreme Court. He was completely surprised but then he was grinning moments later. 

“No wonder why he was surprised when I mentioned your name back in 2005. How long has it been since you two broke up?” 

“Since 1998. It was during the Raccoon City outbreak. After we parted ways, I never heard from him again and just focused on my studies.” You lit up another cigarette, putting the stick between your fingers and lips. 

“Why did you two break up?” Ashley asked. 

            You paused for a moment. A lump formed in your throat and a tear slipped out of your eye. Your only way is to gulp down the whiskey in your glass. Ashley doesn’t want to force you to spill out the truth. Her point is to ease the pain in your heart. Seeing you struggling to speak is enough for her to understand that you and Leon did not have a good end. 

“He’s a traitor,” You managed to speak out, taking deep breaths as you struggled to breathe.  

—

               Ashley had to go because her mother, The First Lady called because of curfew. She doesn't want to leave you in tears but you ushered her to leave, saying that you will be fine and enjoy the time by yourself. Ashley gave you an apologetic look before grabbing her purse, kissing your cheek, and leaving the VIP Room. 

               And there you are, having deep thoughts. You huffed out another smoke and groaned. You are not a menacing teenager who will do everything to get rid of Leon. That’s too immature. Ever since you graduated in Law and become a prosecutor, you promised yourself that you are no longer that young girl who’s sweet and naive. You need to be tough no matter how hard the situation is. No matter how much pressure a case gives you, you will do everything to win the trial. 

              Same as being the Chief of the CIA. Your hacking skills, high potential on battlefields, gunfight skills, and being a deadly agent made you reach your current position. None of the missions you had were easy. Most of them cost the lives of agents that failed to complete the mission. Only you are the last man standing. At the end of the missions, you’d always look around and see the pools of blood scattered around whether it is from your enemy or comrades. Dead bodies lay down on the bloodied ground. And now, the President takes you as the country’s secret weapon against the threat from other countries who will dare to attack. 

             Those events happened within fifteen years. You didn’t get enough rest. Your mind is so occupied with your job that even when Ashley was kidnapped back in 2005, you did not let your emotion take over you and continued pursuing your goals and fulfilling your responsibilities as a prosecutor and the Chief of the CIA. Leon never popped into your mind ever since. Now that he’s here again as your bodyguard, you couldn’t help but recall what pain he gave you in Raccoon City fifteen years ago. 

           Fifteen years ago in Raccoon City, things go wrong as you, Leon, and Ada encounter another group of survivors and now they are chasing you down to kill you. Ada, the most experienced one in fighting got shot in the leg causing her to fall to the ground. You and Leon are shooting them with your guns but he saw Ada get shot. 

“Ada!” He yelled and shot those people who are after her before running to her to check on her. But there’s a guy who appeared out of nowhere and pointed his gun at Leon. 

“Leon, duck!” You yelled and covered Leon with your body. A gunshot echoed around the road and you hissed in pain as the bullet hit you on your arm. 

          You growled and reloaded your gun as fast as you could and shot the guy right in the head. You took care of the rest of the people while Leon is busy treating Ada’s injury with a small medical kit he has. After a few seconds of silence, you lowered your gun and held your injured arm to stop the bleeding. You turned around and found Leon carrying Ada in his arms. 

            In your view, Ada was telling Leon that she’s fine and can’t walk, even including a phrase that it was just a bite of an ant. But Leon insisted on carrying her. It makes you feel jealous. Like, you are his girlfriend while Ada is just a random FBI Agent who appeared out of nowhere and saved Leon from infected dogs. Then, why is he treating her as if you are not around? Does he even realize that he was hurting you? Does he realize that a man who’s in a relationship shouldn’t act like that around his girlfriend? 

            So, to not ruin Leon’s time with her and to avoid making an issue between you in the middle of a zombie outbreak, you uncovered your arm, letting it bleed. You’re wearing a black hoodie so the blood isn’t noticeable. Claire will be here soon so you can treat your wound later. You wouldn’t die if you bleed and wait for Claire, would you? With a heavy sigh, you walked away, taking the lead while Leon followed you with Ada in his arms. 

          Soon, you found Claire with Sherry in a safe room. She was treating Leon’s wounds too while Ada was resting in the bed. While you are looking outside through the window. It was your only way to ease the pain and jealousy you felt. That shot could have killed Leon if you didn’t cover him. That could’ve cost your life too. This isn’t the first time you felt jealous. This is the tenth time you felt this way and you hate it. You noticed how Ada acts around Leon and she usually dismisses you. If she did, it was against her will. 

            You are in deep thought when you hear Sherry gasp… 

“Y/n, you’re bleeding! Why are you not saying anything?!” With that, you gained everyone’s attention. Claire immediately approached you and found your arms bleeding. 

“How could you not say anything! You’ll die if we don't treat this immediately!” Claire scolded you, rolling up your sleeves, and gasped when he found your injury bleeding more. She grabbed all the things she needed and started treating your wound. 

                 You gritted your teeth as Claire took the bullet out of your arm and wrapped it with a bandage. Leon approached you too and attempted to hold your hand but you declined and said, “I can manage.” And there Leon realized that something was wrong.

               Until one day… you find out Ada’s secret. Upon finding out about this, anger quickly rushed down through your veins and quickly grabbed your gun and pointed it to Ada and fired multiple times but none of the bullets hit her as it was your way to catch her attention. 

“Tell us the truth, Ada Wong,” You growled venomously. “Tell us who the hell are you…” 

“Y/n!” Leon quickly stood between you and Ada, facing you. “Put the gun down! What the hell is wrong with you?!” He shrieked. 

“That bitch is fooling around us! She told us that she was an FBI Agent when I didn’t see her record on the FBI’s server! Stay away from that traitor, Leon!” You hissed, firmly pointing your gun at Ada. 

            Ada did not reply but there is no hint of worry or regret in her eyes. Instead, she glared at you. She stepped in front of you, never breaking eye contact with you. She then smirked and put on a smug look on her face. 

“Traitor? Seriously? If you are just a student, you wouldn’t know how to access the FBI’s server. From the very start, I’ve been helping you and Leon. I’ve saved your life a lot of time and now this is how you are going to repay me?!” Ada hissed at you. 

“For an eighteen-year-old student, it’s not easy to hack the FBI. What about you, Y/n? Who the hell are you?” She turned the tables around. She takes steps closer to you as if she was challenging you.

“Don’t change the topic, Ada. You’re working under Albert Wesker, right? One of the researchers and the reasons why the hell we are here in this damn situation? Too bad, Ada. You did not pass as the best actress.” 

            Then, Ada attacked you at such speed. Of course, you dodged her attacks and are more trained than her regardless of your age and state in the government. You may be just a student, practicing Law but no one must look down on you or even doubt your commitment especially when you are doing this for your team’s safety. The combat between you and Ada ended when you pulled the trigger and hit her on the waist. Ada grunted and you took the opportunity to take her down. 

“Y/n, enough!” Leon pulled Ada away with such care which breaks your heart more. Claire was holding Sherry who was sobbing in her embrace. 

“Leon, are you defending her?” You asked, feeling betrayed. Leon put Ada to the side for a moment before pulling you away to a more private room. 

“What the hell did you just do?! You know that Ada is our key point to survive this damn apocalypse!” Leon hissed at you and of course, you retorted back. 

“From the very start, I did not trust that woman even a bit! It feels like she planned to cross paths with us to gain our trust and take the samples because she is working for Albert Wesker!” 

“Aside from accusing her, shooting her, how did you access the FBI’s server? We have only limited devices! We even barely called for help and now we found out that you accessed the FBI just to do some stupid research on her!” 

“Stupid research? I did it for our safety!” You rebutted. “Leon… I don’t understand. Why are you being so protective of her? Why are you defending her? Leon, I am your girlfriend.” 

              Leon sighed. “You are. But these days, it feels like we’re not together. It feels like you are different from the girl I love. I… I don’t know you anymore.” Your heart shatters as Leon said those. Tears filled your eyes, your heart pounded against your chest, and a lump formed in your throat. 

               You couldn’t believe that Leon was saying this to you when you just want to protect him, to protect everyone. A tear slipped out your eye and you pulled yourself away. “Are you doubting me, Leon? Do you believe that the fake agent is your girlfriend?” Then Leon snapped at you, 

“Don’t call her that!” 

“Then what?!” You yelled at him. “You think I don’t notice your behavior ever since she came into our lives? That you are becoming more affectionate to her than me? That you will prioritize her over me? That night when those groups of survivors chased us and tried to kill us, I saw how worried you were for her that you insisted on carrying her when she just had a shot in her leg because of her stupidity, rather than me catching the bullet for you!” 

                 Leon was taken aback by your sudden outburst. 

“If there’s someone I truly don’t know anymore, that is you, Leon. Even thinking if I should approach you for help is difficult for me because your attention was on Ada. Tell me the truth, Leon. Is there someone else? Is there someone else who captured your heart away from me?” 

              He didn’t reply to your question. Seeing you in this kind of situation hurts him. But he couldn’t lie to you. His silence is enough for you. With a deep breath, you turned away from him. 

“I can leave, if that’s what you want. I know you very much, Leon. As a rookie police officer, you wouldn’t ride the same boat with the person you are doubting. But mark my words, Leon…” You paused but Leon interrupted you. 

“You’re not leaving.” You turned to look at him and he was looking directly into your eyes. “We will survive this apocalypse together, I promise. Please, stay with us. For me….” 

               For his sake, you stayed. To not lose him, you swallowed your pride for him. Until one night… when you almost escape the damned city, things went wrong again. He broke his promise.

                You woke up from being knocked out and there you found yourself cuffed in a chair. You looked out to the glass window and found Leon heading to the helicopter with Ada. And the sound of zombies banging outside of the room you are in made you panic even more. So, you forcefully pulled your hands off the handcuffs. You kept pulling yourself and your wrists started to bleed. Tears fall from your eyes, struggling to be free. “Leon!” You yelled and winced in pain until you successfully freed yourself. You banged against the glass to gain his attention. 

           He did. He looked at you who was crying, scared of death. The banging of zombies against the door gets louder and you look at Leon with pleading eyes as blood stains the clear glass that was coming from your wrists. 

“Leon, don’t leave me here! Help me!” You screamed but Leon only looked at you with saddened eyes. 

              He had no choice but to leave you. Even if it hurts him to see you crying like a puppy, injured and terrified, there’s no other way but to leave with Ada. The woman in red noticed that Leon was looking in your direction. So, she held his hand and gave him an assuring smile. 

“Leon, I know that this is hard but you need to strengthen yourself…” 

              What breaks your heart more is that he smiled at her before proceeding to walk to the helicopter.  After connecting the dots, you realize they use you as the bait while they take the opportunity to escape. With that, anger rushed throughout your veins upon realizing that Leon just betrayed you. He betrayed you for Ada. Your hands clenched into fists while your wrists keep bleeding. 

             Leon gave you a last look and he saw nothing but pain and anger in your eyes as if you were cursing him for betraying you. There’s no point in turning back now. Call him selfish but he made up his mind…

          And so he rides the helicopter with Ada, leaving you, scared and alone. Soon, the zombies break into the room where you are in. You ain’t going to cry and let those zombies eat you alive. On that night, you vowed to yourself that no matter what it takes, you will get your revenge on them. You used all the weapons you can use just to survive even if you’re alone. 

           Remembering how you struggled to survive made your eyes teary. You don’t want to be as weak as the person you used to be. That night when Leon betrayed you, another persona came into you. It made you more powerful. Having Leon back makes you feel like meeting your past self. A naive, sweet, and caring young girl who was now looking at a sophisticated, high-class, elite, and exclusive prosecutor and a superior of the country’s most powerful agency, the CIA. 

            You put your glass down and the cigarette on the ashtray before removing your black leather gloves and looking at the scars on your wrists that were carved on your skin. You still can feel the pain those cuffs gave you. When you survived and escaped that damned city, you started wearing gloves, not wanting to see your scars. 

              Anger rushed down through your veins. You grabbed the glass and threw it away with a growl, creating shattering sounds. There, you broke into tears. You rest your head against the backrest while you drape your arm over your eyes as you weep. 

“I will make your life a living hell, Leon Kennedy.” You muttered under your breath before passing out.

—

            Leon, who was patiently waiting for you outside the VIP Room heard a shattering sound inside. And there he found you, sitting on the couch with your head resting against the backrest with an arm draped over your eyes. He sighed in relief that you were fine. 

“Is that how you throw tantrums?” He asked. You didn’t reply, not even moving from your position. Leon sighed again, realizing that you passed out. 

             The man approached you to pick you up but something caught his attention. Your scars. He moved closer to you and stared at your scars. It was carved around your wrists. Your skin was torn, he can tell that the cuffs he gave you back then have made you ruin your skin, desperate to escape. 

          Leon still remembers how you looked at him with a fire of rage in your eyes as your tears fell uncontrollably. When he looked at you during his introduction as your bodyguard, the flame was even worse behind your calm expression. The mystery of Prosecutor L/n's gloves is now finally solved. 

         Suddenly…

"Traitor…" Leon snapped back to his senses and looked at you. You are looking at him with hooded eyes. You stood up and grabbed your bag and gloves before walking to the door, without regretting telling him that. Because that's what he is.

—

To be continued...

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil 4 #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x you #leon smut #leon x reader #leon x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #re6 leon #leon kennedy headcanons #biohazard 4 #resident evil #re4 remake

[theminecraftbee]

task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.

Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.

Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.

Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.

Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.

Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.

Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!

Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.

Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.

Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!

Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?

Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?

Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.

Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?

BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.

Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

#secret life smp #a bee fic #not tagging everyone in this because it's. everyone #anyway i have wanted to write this for like TWO WEEKS so i figured that now's as good a time as any #anyway this is probably as thinly disguised as my character meta gets #we talk a LOT in this fandom about curses #we talk about whether we like them as fanon we talk about whether we dislike them we talk about who has them we talk about why #we talk about if they're here or broken or anything else #so i'd like to think the characters have an opinion on curses too after how much talking about them we've been doing #...at least the characters around to tell us their opinions do. #(anyway for all I claim this is thinly disguised character meta it IS actually of note that this isn’t actually about if they believe) #(but instead about how they’d respond if they were asked) #(hence why half of them don’t even answer the right question) #(this is why I’m not good at character meta btw)

[bo0tleg]

GEMS MY FRIEND SAID WATCHING TOP GUN (1986) FOR THE FIRST TIME:

"Look at those thighs! He's gotta be sitting on a dick, there ain't no way!" (about a random engineer in the opening sequence)

"This guy is too handsome to be a rando" (it was, indeed, a rando)

"Fifteen minutes in and I have no idea who the protagonist is." "Do you know what Tom Cruise looks like?" ".... No."

*Thought Cougar was gonna be the protagonist, was confused as hell when he left*

"The baldo is boring, but I think were gonna keep seeing him throughout the movie." "No, we're not." "We're not? Oh, thank god."

"Whoop, spotted the gay one. That wasn't even hard."

"That guy (Chipper) looks russian." "Nope." "No? What about that one (Slider)?" "It's the middle of the Cold War." "..... So?"

"A gay couple already? Wow."

"The blondie is trying to flirt while the other one is too concentrated on the rivalry."

"OH HELL NAH."

"Every old movie just feels the need for random straight romance– OH SHIT THAT'S HER? HE'S SO FUCKED." (In the scene where Charlie is 'officially' introduced)

"HOLD UP!" *Rewinds the scene* "What kind of flirting is that?" *Plays the scene again* "Did he just... Chomp? At him?"

"He has chemistry with her, but she doesn't want any chemistry with him. I mean, I can see she's attracted to him, but I think she just wants a quick lay." (Repeated this Every. Single. Time. Maverick and Charlie had a scene together.)

"Ah yes, the hetero scene that actually looks really gay." Later, remembering the scene: "How the fuck are you gonna play sports looking like a hot piece of ass without looking gay? You're not supposed to be hot! You're supposed to slap that fucking ball, not be like 'hahaha look at me, I'm so dainty and pretty.' THAT'S GAY!"

"It's cute, Goose treats him like a father would." "Don't you mean an older brother?" "No, he's too gentle for that. They'd be killing each other."

"See, Goose's wife treats him like an older sister would. By annoying him."

Charlie, on screen: "(...) Because I've fallen in love with you." "NO YOU FUCKING HAVEN'T, SHE'S JUST SAYING THAT FOR HIM TO STAY! SHE'S JUST SAYING WHAT HE WANTS TO HEAR TO KEEP HIM THERE!"

*Loud disgruntled noises I could hear from the kitchen over the sex scene*

"That's the one with the hard on!"

"I want more scenes of the blondie (Ice) and Maverick, I don't care about fucking planes."

"Did he die? Oh, no he's fine, the chute is there. Wait, he did die? NO!"

"Did he really need to be in his underwear for this conversation?"

"How cute, he's worried about Mavericks mental health. Shit."

*Screams*

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU IDIOT? SHE LEFT YOU AFTER YOUR BEST FRIEND DIED!" "And put on a song that reminds him of his parents." "AND PUT ON A SONG THAT REMINDS YOU OF YOUR DEAD PARENTS!"

#now uptaded with her reaction to the volleyball scene #stay tunned for top gun maverick #icemav #top gun iceman #top gun 1986 #top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #tg86 #tg:m #goose bradshaw #carole bradshaw #ron slider kerner #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #charlie blackwood #iceman x maverick #iceman kazansky #rick hollywood neven #leonard wolfman wolfe #iceman top gun #nick bradshaw #top gun 86

[shemybitchhh]

𝕀 𝔾𝕠𝕥 𝕐𝕠𝕦☆

HEADCANONS of you taking care of injured Ellie.

<<Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader>>

☆Ellie, who the first time you two would talk, she would have a rather serious wound on her side. You, being the daughter of one of Jackson's doctors, were always interested in medicine and learned quickly from your father. "What happened?" You asked her, worried as you saw her clutching the side of her muscle shirt that had a huge red stain on it. "Nothing, mind your business." She told you coldly but you stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. "Aren't you going to go to the infirmary?" You asked and Ellie turned her head to look at you angrily. "You don't care what I do." You bit your lip, still worried. "If you don't let some nurse take care of you, at least let me do it."

☆Ellie, who from that day on would notice your presence in every place she went, and when she didn't see you she would look for you until she found you, without knowing why she needed to keep you in her sights.

☆Ellie, who would find you one day treating the wound of a little boy who was crying because of a scrape on his knee. "Shhh, easy little one. Everything's okay." You assured him as you gently disinfected the wound with a cotton ball. "That's it. You're very brave." You told him, making the boy smile a little. Ellie felt her heart warm when she saw that scene.

☆Ellie, who wouldn't know how to start a conversation with you so she would pretend to get hurt just to have an excuse.

☆Ellie, who would start asking you anything no matter how stupid it was just to hear your voice. "So, do you swab the wound with alcohol before bandaging it?" "What's worse, a knife or gun wound?" "Can I drink booze after antibiotics?"

☆Ellie, who would look for supplies during her patrols to surprise you. "Where did you get these?" You asked, looking in surprise at the empty blood bags and clean gauze she had gotten. "They were inside an ambulance a short distance from our checkpoint. Nothing out of the ordinary." She said downplaying it, when in reality she had entered an abandoned hospital full of clickers and runners completly alone, just to get them for you.

☆Ellie, who would invite you over to her room for the first time and you would end up reading her comics together.

☆Ellie, who would ask you what your favorite band is and a few days later a CD of it would appear on your doorstep. She would never take credit for it, although it wouldn't be too difficult to guess.

☆Ellie, who would invite you to have lunch with her in the dining room, after seeing that you were too shy to sit next to anyone besides your dad.

☆Ellie, who would stare into your eyes while you told her the plot of your favorite book. She wasn't listening to a single word that came out of your mouth. Her mind was lost in the vibrant and full of life color of your gems.

☆Ellie, who would tell you her stupid jokes just to hear your laugh.

☆Ellie, who would ask you to teach her first aid so she could take care of herself. Although she would never apply the theory since she preferred to go with you and have you take care of her.

☆Ellie, who would arrive from a patrol almost fainting from the number of infected she had to kill, and you would run up to her so that she could lean against you. "Shhh, easy, I got you." You whispered to her before she passed out.

☆Ellie, who would wake up exalted on the stretcher in the infirmary and the first person she would look for would be you. She would see that it was your father standing next to her, taking her pulse, and she would instantly be embarrassed. "I'll tell her you're awake and to come see you." Your father said with a kind smile, without Ellie having to say anything.

☆Ellie, who would accept your hug without second's hesitation after you ran in to check on her.

☆Ellie, who would start spending some nights at your house, listening to music, talking about irrelevant topics to pass the time, and sometimes even cooking with you.

☆Ellie, who would stare at your lips while you chewed the chocolate she had brought you as a gift. "Want some?" You asked, extending your hand with a generous piece.

☆Ellie, who would act without thinking and would pull you towards her by your outstretched wrist and kiss you, tasting your chocolate-flavored lips.

☆Ellie, who couldn't stop telling you how beautiful you are, loving how you looked away with an involuntary blush.

☆Ellie, who would promise to take care of you from everything, just like you took care of her when she got hurt on her patrols.

☆Ellie, who would hug you from behind with her folded hands after you disinfected her knuckles for the thousandth time, and would fall asleep smelling your scent and pressing you against her.

☆Ellie, who would let you know how important you are to her. "I got you, love."

#Spotify #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 #tlou #fluff #ellie the last of us #the last of us

[mccoyquialisms]

my fantasy high red-string-conspiracy-theory-board-of-the-main-mystery lore tracker (a long ass post) (because I love both mysteries AND organization of inconsequential information):

rough chronology of events:

In ages past there is a wedding attended in the Chaos Mountains by Sol and Galicaea of their sister the Witch Goddess to an unnamed giantkin god. This god is a summer god, sibling of the giant winter goddess Ruvina

Over centuries, the unnamed god's domain changes from the sun and summer to fire

This unnamed god is killed and their name was wiped from history. The other gods remember who this being is, but due to obliviati mori, cannot reference them directly to mortals. Red shatter stars appear around this time

850 years before present day, the Witch Goddess's name is erased by her followers (encouraged by followers of Galicaea) and she is transformed into the Nightmare King. Before she does she performs the 4 trans-substantiations to resist being "unmade". Her familiar Kalina becomes a plague and begins to spread through the mortal populace. These events likely happen after the death of her spouse, as there is no reference to a spouse when the Witch Goddess was previously mentioned

Roughly 4-6 years before modern day, the pit fiend Bakur attempts to resurrect his god, whose name was lost "so they could not be worshiped." The return of this god is felt to be a significant threat to the world. Lydia Barkrock and her adventuring party stop him by sealing Bakur in a red gem in Lydia's chest, where she keeps him imprisoned with her rage

The Ratgrinders, then called the High 5 Heroes, meet in freshman year and consist of Kipperlilly, Oisin, Mary Anne, Ruben, Ivy and Lucy.

They xp level up by killing rats, twig gremlins and other small magical creatures in the woods behind Aguefort

The events of freshman year happen and Kalvaxus is released. During prom, Ragh spots Jace Stardiamond talking to Arianwen. He is later "barbarian healed" by Porter and after this can see Kalina. Kalina finds Ragh later and threatens Lydia if he talks about what he's seen

Sophomore year spring break happens and the Nightmare King is transformed into the goddess now named Cassandra

At some point Lucy began to return to the woods after party sessions to revive the rats they killed. She did this long enough and with enough regularity that the rats remember her name/face well and think of her fondly

Paperwork is submitted for Lucy to change her god from Ruvina to a god whose name cannot be read, just before her disappearance. A few days later a second request is submitted to withdraw this change. Neither form was ever seen by Lucy's teacher Yolanda Badgood

Lucy was killed near Lake Shimmerstone by multiple assailants with both weapon and magical damage towards the end of sophomore year, in the period of weeks after grades were complete, but before summer break. The area has multiple uprooted trees, some of which were used to hide her body. Unholy rites were performed over her body to force her soul to the beyond, so she cannot be revived.

Lucy is reported as dead but her body was never found. She was described as "not alive in this material plane" via divination

Because of the timing of her death, her party was not moved to pass/fail as all grades for that year had already been submitted

Night Yorb and the long dark summer happens

Buddy Dawn, a cleric of Sol, is specifically requested by the Ratgrinders to be their new cleric for junior year

Also over the long dark summer, the Loam farmers are accused of embezzlement and the Frostyfair festival is moved from there to the Thistlesprings tree at the recommendation of Lola Embers. Sklonda Gukgak is assigned as the Loam couple's public defender

Kipperlilly finds or is found by the rogue teacher and has passed the whole of junior year

Junior year begins. On her first day, Kipperlilly questions Jawbone on where YES! was created

Kipperlily announces she is running for student body president and her primary platform is for uniform equity under the rules without "favoritism"

In the mall of the Synod, the event that kicks off the battle is Cassandra becomes angry hearing Kristen isn't coming to help find followers. She says "This isn't fair!" as a razor-sharp flickering star of red light emerges from her chest. 24-point, red shatter stars infect nearby wizards and turns them into rage-filled, violent, giant versions of themselves. The people taken over by the shatter stars are instructed by an unknown voice to attack Cassandra

Cassandra is able to be calmed by a high persuasion and when she does, she expels multiple shatter stars. She seems to recognize them and says "I thought you were dead.”

Before Kalina is taken over by the shatter stars, she looks to Riz and says "Ragh Barkrock". She then slits Cassandra's throat, triggering a new round of rage in Cassandra

Cassandra suffers multiple attacks and begins to transform into a giant, red raging version of herself and attempts to kill the party. Before she's successful, the gang are swept away in a time loop back to Spyre. The Bad Kids see the Synod is destroyed, and Kristen finds she has shards of Cassandra in her pocket

Kristen attempts to commune with Cassandra and hears a voice say "She is at my side once more." The voice then mocks Kristen with YES!'s body and then tells Kristen it is coming for her, and it will break her irrevocably.

Ivy sees Fig disguised as Lucy at the party at Seacastor Manor, and has an inscrutable reaction to it, but did not seem surprised

The cloud rider engine in Fabian's basement is broken and a piece is found missing

Kipperlily does the food truck event with the subliminal OK messaging on the packaging

Ruben Hopclap performs at FrostFaire when he is attacked by Principal Grix. Grix is eventually killed by Fabian. The Bad Kids determine Ruben was doing some kind of ritual with a song about anger above an arcano-tech array in a 24 point star pattern, successfully releasing a large amount of some type of magical energy.

Simultaneously, Yolanda Badgood is killed at Lake Shimmerstone by immense concussive force damage, and afterwards her body is expertly hidden. She is subjected to the same unholy last rites that Lucy was.

The Bad Kids find Lucy and Yolanda's bodies, and Kristen releases their souls, who travel to the beyond on a "trail of moonlight"

Sklonda's clients are found murdered

Mazey reveals that the Vice Principal (i.e. Jace) does not become the Principal, and it would be the student body president who becomes the new principal of Aguefort

additional info we can reasonably infer or that don't fit neatly in the timeline:

Buddy's grandparents, and likely Buddy himself, have a vested interest in his grandfather becoming the cleric teacher. He went to Aguefort and is familiar with the school. Presumably he wants this to be able to preach about Sol and spread his influence

At some point before her death, Yolanda told Jace about her concerns regarding Lucy's deity-transfer paperwork

Cassandra is not dead, but is "beyond reach"

Lucy and Yolanda were noted to be in "realms beyond", which Brennan specifically noted they were taken from and "whatever was happening there"

The Ratgrinders are gunning for the bad kids and seem to be orchestrating situations to try to get them to take drugs

Porter's philosophical discussion with Fig regarding the concept of protection and how that is often inextricably tied with rage, that one can act as a fuel for the other

Porter is a paladin of the ancestors, and at some point was mentioned to be a goliath, though this seems to be debated in canon. If true, it's possible he's a descendant of giants

Kristen bring's up Sol's wrath and Buddy does not refute this, agreeing Sol's wrath is a well known aspect of him and he has been quite angry because of the dark summer/night yorb situation

As above so below. What the gods do affect their mortal followers, but conversely, what the mortals who follow them do also affect the gods

A god can only come back from death in a place a god had been born or created, meaning Bakur's decision to try to revive his fallen god in the Red Waste was what doomed it to failure

Bakur's documents are written in the language of giants, and his deity is said to be from the same region as Ruvina. Combining this with Adaine’s research, and the “mitochondrial magic print”, Bakur’s god is Cassandra’s former spouse

The cloud rider piece was likely stolen by the Ratgrinders as Kipperlily asked Aelwyn to research schematics of the device

Kipperlily seems to be keeping information from some of the other Ratgrinders, telling Aelwyn she needs to "protect Oisin" from their shady deals

Kipperlily's mother works for the city treasury and her father is in real estate. Neither are super wealthy, but Kipperlilly has been paying Aelwyn large amounts of money to obtain arcane components. Given the timing of this with the disappearance of a large sum of money from the Frostyfair accounts, the timing of the murder of the people who were blamed for it, and that the new chosen location happens to be the home of one of the Ratgrinders rivals, the Ratgrinders involvement is thought to be likely

Cassandra's whispered clue of "spies, tongue, curse"

Places outside Spyre, like the Synod, are easier for dead gods to reach

For whatever the Ratgrinders have planned, a student being the principal of Aguefort is essential for it. A lot of people have had to be conveniently absent or dead for this circumstance to occur.

This is all not even touching Aguefort's whole journey through time and possible time quangle issue and whatever the fuck Fig's Bad Luck Thing is. I'm not convinced that these are related to the god stuff and are likely their own separate issues. also, I am tired lmao. If you want to hear my rambling theories, I'll be making a separate post.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #fhjy #dropout #my musings #did i avoid all of my responsibilities after work today to write this? yeah. #do I feel bad about it? also yeah but it was still fun. #fantasy high meta

[fantasykiri5]

I’m a little sick of how Lizzie’s death is just being made about Jimmy and the canary curse now so.

How about writing about how it was a freak accident. How much more tragic it was that it was in fact an accident.

She wasn’t expecting it. Nobody else was expecting it. Half the server laughed. Some of them died not 10 minutes later. I’d like to think she got to laugh at them in whatever afterlife they’re stuck in till the end. Or cuss them out a bit. Or both.

She didn’t have any allies. A couple shaky truces, but no real allies. She didn’t get to take revenge on Scar (for the many, many, times he wronged her.) or anyone else really.

She died without turning in her second red task. She’d completed it. She wanted to take out Scott before she turned it in. She died.

Scott was this close to falling off the ledge after her first couple hits. His feet were practically off the edge. If you think hard enough about it you can see the pebbles and dust crumble away as he dances the edge of the cliff, just pixels away from her completing what she set out to do. Something she set out to do largely for fun. It wasn’t in her task to hurt Scott. Scott brought gifts to her party after showing up late, he wronged her but there were many who wronged her tenfold. She was going to kill Scott because her husband asked, and she’d just hit him over the head with rocks so she might as well. She kept doing it for fun. She was red. She might as well. Maybe everyone who didn’t come to her party would fear her a little then.

Maybe you should write about how Lizzie lived in a pumpkin house, had a whole pumpkin patch, was one of the two people who found the pumpkins first with gem, and all it would have taken for her to not die there would have been to wear one?

Maybe you should write about how if she’d looked just a fraction to the left or right she wouldn’t have looked at the enderman? How if she had reacted with the enderpearl a few seconds earlier she could have made it back up? How she only thought to throw it because she started taking damage as she sunk into the bottom of the void? How the only reason she didn’t was because she wasn’t expecting it?

Maybe you should write about how she wasn’t expecting it.

Lizzie wasn’t expecting it.

#kiri rambles #my writing #<- it’s an actual written piece but it’s supposed to look like just a regular text post so ✌️ we ball #secret life #life series #life series smp #ldshadowlady #lizzie ldshadowlady #only tagging her because it’s about her but a couple others are mentioned #fanfic #<- technically? it’s a little weird I had fun with it

[strangermarvelss]

all of the girls you loved before- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: the one where eddie runs into his first love, leaving you to question your relationship in the aftermath. loosely based on the taylor swift song with the same title.

Warnings: angst, crying, jealousy, insecurity, eddie being rude unintentionally, cursing, pda (gross), eddie and reader are a few years out of high school, fluff, happy ending

Word Count: 4.8k

Request?: No

A/N: hello again everyone, its been a minute! since i’ve been gone, i’ve entered my swiftie era (not like crazy obsessed but def a fan of the music) and this gem of a song dropped and plucked some inspiration from me, so here is a new one shot for you all! enjoy! -sava

The haze within the hot open room of the Hideout was starting to dissipate, the crowd exiting the venue one by one as the band you’ve been cheering on from your spot at the bar begins clearing the stage of their equipment. The ringing in your ears has yet to go away, getting so lost in the metal music that you didn’t care if it would bite you in the ass at work tomorrow, you’d find a way to take customers orders at the diner, even if they had to scream in order for you to understand. 

You found yourself sitting at the same spot at the Hideout every Tuesday night to cheer your boyfriend and his band members on. Within the years since graduating high school, the town you called home started coming around to the type of music your boyfriend played, despite ridiculing him for years prior to their own revelations. With the new popularity, Tuesday nights at the Hideout have gone from 5 drunks sitting in the back to almost a packed house every week, begging for encores and autographs at the end of each show. It made you happy seeing your boyfriend celebrated in such a way, having been there for him in his lowest points when the tables were turned. Now you bask in his glory like never before, cheering him on alongside the rest of the town.

Paying your tab, you begin walking towards the back stage area when you see a tall lanky man with long luscious curls make his way over to you, his smile wide as his signature dimples poked into the sides of his cheeks. He extends his arms wide, not caring if he gets in anyones way as he greets you. Taking off in a run, you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he catches you, hands making contact with your ass in a not-so-subtle way. You pull away and look at him momentarily before pressing your lips to his.

You take in his scent as your mouths move together as one, the sweaty smell that was no match for masking with his cheap cologne filling your nostrils, but you didn’t mind one bit. You part away from his lips, looking at the deep chocolate irises that you love seeing on a daily basis before running a hand through his sweaty mop of curls. He sets you down and plays with his bangs, moving them to the side as they desperately try to cling to his damp forehead.

“You guys killed it tonight,” you tell him, pulling him in for another hug. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side and twisting his upper body and leaning down to press a kiss to your hair before flashing a closed mouth smile at you.

“Couldn’t have done it without my number one fan,” he says, cupping your cheek with his large calloused hand and placing yet another kiss to your body, this time directed at your forehead.

“So I was thinking that maybe tonight we go back to my apartment and watch some movies? I know we usually go bother my coworkers at the diner after your show but I kind of just want some you and me time,” you tell him with a smile.

“That sounds even better than going to the diner. I bet you’ve already picked out a selection of movies.” “You know me so well. I rented Halloween, Nightmare on Elm St-“

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you. You and Eddie turn around, watching a slim figure approach you with a bashful look plastered on her face. As she got closer, you noticed she was wearing a short black leather skirt and a bright pink top, barely leaving anything to the imagination with the amount of cleavage she was showing. Her hair was long and straight, looking silky to the touch as her skin glowed under the colorful stage lights that were still on. Who the hell is this, and how did she know Eddie?

Eddie squints his eyes as she approaches the two of you, his face relaxing and the smile growing wider than you’ve ever seen it when he finally makes out her features. You won’t deny the twinge you feel in your chest as you watch him drop your hand and give the mysterious woman a big embrace, bigger than the one he gave you moments ago.

“Holy shit! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Eddie exclaims, breaking away and tucking his hands under his armpits.

“M’good! Just finished up college not too long ago so I came back to Hawkins while I search for something a little more permanent,” she tells him, her timid demeanor going out the window as you watch the two grow comfortable with one another. “I see things at the Hideout have changed since we went to high school not too long ago.”

“Yeah, they sure have,” Eddie chuckles, kicking one of his feet out as he looks down. “Looks like the people in this shit town have finally come around when it comes to listening to good music.”

As you watch the interactions from person to person unfold in front of you, you feel the familiar tickle in your nose begin, hoping and praying that you won’t be noticeable if you aren’t able to get rid of the impending sneeze.

“Achoo!” You exclaim, bending down and hiding your nose in the crook of your elbow, silently yelling at yourself when you watch both pairs of eyes land on you.

“Bless you,” the mystery woman says with a smile. You nod, taking a step forward to try and join in on the conversation.

“Thank you,” you tell her, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way, Eddie’s girlfriend.”

You watch Eddie nod as she takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Heather.”

Suddenly you feel your brain catching up with the rest of the world, clicking into place once the name leaves her mouth. This was the Heather you’d heard so much about from Eddie’s friends. The same Heather that just so happened to be his first love, capturing his heart in ways you wish you could’ve done yourself. If only you’d moved to Hawkins earlier in your high school career compared to your senior year, a.k.a Eddie’s second attempt at being a senior. 

The members of the Hellfire Club gave you all the details that you needed to know about Heather: that she was Eddie’s first everything. First date, first love, first time, and eventually, his first heartbreak. The two were smitten with one another when no one else wanted to look Eddie’s way, with all the judgy classmates questioning why they were together in the first place. They didn’t see Eddie for who he truly was, they only ever judged him based on his outer appearance. The same goes for Heather: everyone always questioned why someone as hot as her would settle for someone like Eddie, which always made you upset to hear.

“It’s really nice to meet you Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you tell her, trying your best to sound as sincere as possible. Eddie shoots you a look, silently telling you to stop, which makes your heart drop a bit. Adverting your eyes from him, you look back at Heather, who didn’t miss the interaction. 

“All good things I hope,” she jokes.

“Are you kidding? Of course all good things. I can only hope you extended the same courtesy for me, if you did tell your college friends about me,” he says, rushing the last part out. Was he getting nervous?

“I can assure you that I did. Even after the way things ended…” she says, looking down to the ground as her sentence trails off. You can sense the tension in the air, feeling as if you’re causing the vibe of the conversation to shift a bit. Masking your feelings with a smile, you turn to them and excuse yourself, lying about needing to use the restroom before heading out for the night. Holding the curtain to the side, you enter the backstage area and round a counter towards an empty hallway you know nobody ever comes down after the shows, as you and Eddie have had your share of moments in this very spot, both PG and R rated moments.

As the secluded feeling sinks in, you feel the confidence and happiness that filled your body just moments ago begin to evaporate, vanishing into thin air as you replay the last few minutes in your head. His big smile when he saw her, the big and warm embrace, the look he gave you when you nudged your way into the conversation. It made you want to shrink into yourself. Jealousy was never something you were known for having, usually being more focused on the moment at hand and knowing the security you had with the relationships you had with the people around you.

But the history between Eddie and Heather changed that.

When you first heard about Heather, you didn’t pay much attention to it because you knew that was his past. He told you numerous times that he loves you and loves being with you, and it made you confident in the strength of your relationship. But knowing how strong those feelings he had for Heather and seeing her interact with him in real time, it changed things. He was a different man from the one he was in high school, having graduated and making a name for himself with the music he loves performing. And now that Heather is back in Hawkins for a while, it makes you wonder what could happen between the two of them. 

Would they be able to reconcile? It didn’t look like there were any harsh feelings anymore, so maybe making up was still an option for them. What if Eddie wanted to revisit his past and be with the girl he loved before you came into his life? Was the love he had for her stronger than the love he has for you?

You could feel yourself being to spiral, your arms wrapping around your body and hugging on tight. Your breathing was starting to become jagged and unsteady, trying your best to take deep breaths slowly to get yourself to calm down. Thinking the worst was always such an easy solution for you, because preparing for the worst and not being shocked by the disappointment that lies ahead was better than being blind to the impending doom.

Once you feel yourself becoming calmer, you exit the hallway and walk towards the curtain once again, hesitating and stopping in your tracks. Peeking your head out, you can see the two of them still talking, Eddie throwing his head back in laughter as the two share a funny moment with one another, making your heartache grow. Retreating back behind the curtain, you turn and see Gareth walking your way, a smug look on his face before contorting into a welcoming smile.

“Hey Y/N! Glad to see you made it out tonight, even though I know you’re in the audience every Tuesday,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You give him a quick hug, pulling away and failing to mask the hurt as you see his demeanor change. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine…it’s just, Heather is here tonight. She came up to Eddie and I and started talking with him and catching up-“

“Wait, Heather Heather?” Gareth asks before poking his head out of the curtain. “Holy shit! I had no idea she was back in town. Still looks as hot as ever.”

Pretending to ignore that, you let out a sigh and tap him on the shoulder. Gareth turns to you, lifting a brow.

“Can you make out what her and Eddie are talking about? I think I sort of killed their vibe earlier and now it looks like things are picking up now that I’m not there.”

“Yeah, hang on one second,” he tells you before disappearing behind the curtain. As much as you appreciate Gareth helping, you were more scared to know how the conversation is going. With all the possibilities that were swirling around in your head, it was just getting fogged up with negativity that you were not expecting this evening and you hated going to such a low place.

A moment later, Gareth pops back from the other side of the curtain with a neutral expression, which worries you more than it should. You raise your eyebrows at him, bracing yourself for whatever news that he was about to deliver.

“So I used the gig as an excuse to talk with them and told Eddie that we were almost done loading the equipment up, which is true, and he said he’d be back here in a minute. But as I was walking away, I heard Heather mention how they should catch up another time over coffee and when I looked back, she was writing her number down on a napkin for him,” he explains.

Somehow the news hurts you more than you imagined it would. With their plans on the horizon sometime soon, it made the insecurities rise once again. You knew how special someone’s first love could be because Eddie was that for you. Before moving to Hawkins, you had your fair share of dating but none that meant much to you compared to the feelings your harbor for Eddie. Knowing that he already experienced that with someone else didn’t bother you until that person had to show up right there in front of you. A majority of these worries and doubts reside in your head, you’re aware of that, but it almost feels as if there is going to be a choice he is going to make, and it isn’t looking good for your side.

You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, unable to hide the frown that resides on your lips as you process what Gareth told you. Looking at him, you flash him a sad smile before wiping away at your bottom lash line, a half-baked attempt to get rid of the tears. He rests a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head down to try and make eye contact with you. 

“Hey, don’t get sad, okay? Heather is just Eddie’s past, but you’re his present and his future. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he tries to reassure you.

“Yeah, you might be right,” you tell him before meeting his gaze and making eye contact. “But you didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her, the way he held her. On top of that, the way he looked at me when I talked to her. I’m worried that I actually do have something to worry about,” you explain.

Now it was Gareth’s turn to frown, breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor below. He should know better than anyone how Eddie felt about Heather all those years ago and it doesn’t just go away overnight. 

“I think I should go. I’m going to sneak around the other way…will-will you tell Eddie I wasn’t feeling good or something? If you can think of a good excuse, just use it, because my brain is fogged up right now and I can’t think of any,” you ask. Gareth nods, sending a sad smile your way before you disappear behind more curtains as you make your way around the stage to exit through the front doors unnoticed.

—————————————————————————————————————

It’s been three days since you’ve last seen Eddie.

Clocking out of your shift at the diner, you sigh as you realize its your usual date night with Eddie, yet haven’t heard a word from him since the awkward encounter with his ex at the Hideout. To say the silence has hurt you would be an understatement, as you wait by the phone any chance you’re home hoping he will call. He always makes it a point to call you at the end of each day when he knows you both are already off work, catching up on each others days and talking for hours before falling asleep.

Now you’re going home alone for the fourth night in a row, wasting away as you prepare yourself for when Eddie does eventually call you to break things off, telling you he wants to try things with Heather again while she is in town and rekindle the blissful and naive love they once held in their hearts for one another.

Tossing your jacket on the back of one of the chairs at your kitchen table, you let out a sigh as you begin making your way to your bedroom and undressing your uniform. Quickly, you change into a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, tossing your dirty uniform in your laundry basket before going back to the kitchen. Opening your fridge, you spot the bottle of wine you have been eyeing every day after work this week. The delicious red teasing you and wanting you to indulge in the sweet liquid to cope with the impending end of your relationship.

“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, before grasping the bottle and twisting the cap open. Opening the cabinet above, you grab the first wine glass you see and take it out, pouring the wine in until it gets close the the rim. You take hold of the glass and make your way over to your couch, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the wine travel down your throat with ease. 

Before you’re able to bask in the taste, you hear your doorbell ring throughout your apartment. With a puzzled expression, you set the glass of wine down on your coffee table and make your way back to the front door, sliding the peep hold cover to the side to get a look at just who could be outside. Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath before opening the door, standing face to face with the man who owns your heart. At least, for the next few minutes.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask straight out of the gate. 

“Good to see you too,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the pizza box resting in his hands for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do for date night tonight, so I just took it as an opportunity to plan an evening of pizza, movies, and indulging in the new weed I got from Rick yesterday.”

“I just thought we weren’t going to do date night this week since I hadn’t heard from you,” you say.

“Sorry sweetheart, that is my bad.” He tells you as he makes his way inside your apartment. He sets the pizza on the kitchen table and opens the fridge and pulls a beer out. “I’ve been extremely busy this week with work, band practice, and…uh, well…”

“Heather?” You question, closing the door and resting your back against it as you bring your arms to cross in front of your chest. He stills for a moment, frozen in place as silence falls over the apartment unit. Turning to you, he raises his eyebrows while biting his lip, his physical look of guilt showing front and center. Trying your best to remain stoic, you quirk a brow at him, keeping your position at the door as you wait for an explanation. 

“How, uh…how’d you know about that?” He finally asks after several minutes of silence.

“Gareth told me before I left on Tuesday. Said he overheard her giving you her number,” you answer plainly.

Another beat of silence falls throughout the room. Eddie’s attention is on the floor below him, kicking his feet as he digs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and forgetting about the beer he was excited about enjoying. You find your eyes diverting to the ground as well, finding it hard to look over at your favorite metalhead. Mentally preparing yourself for the ache to grow, you finally let out a deep sigh, your hand coming up to rub at your forehead before you work up the courage to look at him again.

“Look, if you came all this way to let me down gently with pizza and weed, you can just save yourself the trouble. I’ve already spent the past few days preparing for this, so lets just call it what it is and go on about our lives, okay?” You muster out, feeling your throat close up and voice waver towards the end. You shut your mouth, turning your head as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver. Opening the door, you step to the side and remain silent, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. You can’t breakdown in front of him, not when he’s choosing another girl over you.

You hear his heavy footsteps grow closer to you, stopping right before your figure. Your eyes are planted to the floor, seeing his stark white Reeboks enter your vision before leaving once again. Suddenly, you feel his hand lay on top of the one holding the handle to the front door, guiding it to a close and stepping to the side.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he reveals.

You whip your neck in the direction he moved to, seeing the sad expression on his face as his big brown cow eyes look into yours. Part of you was hesitant to question him about it, not wanting his mind to change in a matter of seconds and leave you in a puddle of sadness afterall. But the more logical part of your brain wanted answers. Why did he not bother calling you for days but thought it was okay to hang out with his ex? Why didn’t he confess earlier about seeing her around? Why was he acting so strange at the Hideout, and why didn’t he want you talking to her?

“What?”

“I said I’m not breaking up with you, sweetheart. Why was that even a thought that popped into your head?” He asks, his voice level and sweet. He takes a step closer to you, filling the small gap that had separated you moments ago before slowly extending an arm out to you, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the soft skin.

“I don’t know…” you finally answer, the lack of confidence in your voice giving you away as your sentence trails off.

“C’mon, I know you had to think that somehow. I won’t be mad or anything, I promise. Just want my sweet girl to talk to me.” You take the beat of silence to think about to how explain it to him without coming across as a jealous and needy girlfriend. You can do this, you think to yourself.

“It’s just-I know how you felt during that relationship and how deep the feelings were thanks to Gareth and Jeff, a-and the way you were talking to her and looking at her at the Hideout on Tuesday made it look like no time had passed and that the feelings were still there. I mean, she gave you her number Eds! A-and you just said you hung out with her!” You exclaim, breaking out of his grasp and retreating towards the living room. You run a hand down your face, sighing as you try to level your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, when you put it like that…yeah it sounds bad,” you hear him say from the kitchen. You sit on the couch, taking a large sip of the wine you abandoned earlier. Eddie turns around and stalks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite of you, not wanting to get too close again after the failed attempt. “But baby, I promise nothing happened with Heather and I, okay? We went over to Rick’s last night after grabbing coffee and smoked. Nothing more.”

“I just wish you told me about it,” you let out, feeling deflated from the way you were reacting.

“I know baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Work had been busy and when I was going to call you after I woke up yesterday, Heather called and asked to hang out at the coffee shop. I should’ve used the payphone outside the place or hell, called you before I left my place. If I could go back and do so I would.”

You flash him a half-hearted smile, looking back towards your wine glass before picking it up once again. Bringing it to your lips, you take another big sip, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol move throughout your limbs and send a tingling feeling in them. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Eddie slide over onto the couch, still leaving room between the two of you as he leans his arms on his knees, hanging his head down a bit and letting his long mane of curls move forward with him.

“You want to know what we talked about yesterday? Over coffee?” He asks, quirking a brow your way as he shifts a bit from his position.

“Hmm?”

“We caught up, I asked her about college, she told me all kinds of stories. Even told me the story of how she met her fiancé, who moved in with her when she came back to Hawkins. They’re getting married in November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving which I thought was nice. Then I talked to her about you, and how we’ve been dating since the winter of ’84 and been inseparable since then. I must’ve been smiling really hard or something because she pointed out how happy I looked when I talk about you, which is true,” he chuckles out, a silly grin creeping onto his features.

Now it was your turn to smile, unable to hide the warm and fuzzy feeling that made its way into your chest at hearing the words. You set the wine glass back down, shifting on the couch so you were facing his direction, legs crossed as you leaned over to take his hand in yours. “Really?”

“Oh of course baby. Look, what I had with Heather all those years ago was great, and I appreciate the time I had with her then. But loving her taught me how to be better and show the person I was really meant for all the more love and affection that they deserve. You,” he boops your nose, making a giggle escape past your lips. “-you are the one I love now and will love until I take my last breath okay? All the shit I’ve been through was worth it because it brought you to me when you moved here, and I am so fucking happy about that. Wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

You can’t help but feel the burning sensation behind your eyes at Eddie’s sweet words. Sure, you still felt like a bit of a fool for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but hearing Eddie shut down all your worries and reassure you about his feelings for you in the nicest way you could’ve imagined warmed your heart. You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and closing the distance between you as your lips meet his. His hand instinctively goes to your hip, holding you closer as his mouth moves against yours in fever.

Eventually pulling away, you lean your forehead against his, giggling to yourself as you feel his bangs tickle the sensitive skin of your cheeks. You look at his big brown eyes, seeing the soft look he was giving you and melting all over again.

“Sorry for acting like a jealous girlfriend babe. Not the prettiest look for me if I’m being honest,” you joke.

“Hey, if the roles were reversed, I would totally act the way you did, so I get it. But now you know that you don’t ever have to worry about anyone else, because like I said, you’re it for me baby. I love you.”

“I love you more,” you say, pressing your lips to his cheek. He shoots you a grin, breaking contact with your forehead and rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your leggings. 

“How about I warm up that pizza I brought over and we pop in one of those movies I rented? You probably need some food after all that wine you drank,” he says, making you laugh. Nodding, you agree.

“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #fluff #strangermarvelss

[astrowarr]

when was the last time scott was this alone?

was it 3rd life, after the death of his husband, gone far too early? or was it last life, as he looked away from the blood on his hands and up to the sky just in time to see the lightning flash? was it double life, when he stood face to face with his soulmate that wasn't really his? was it limited life, when the sword of his ally, his friend sank between his ribs?

no, this is something new entirely. because this is the first time scott has ever been betrayed. jimmy held his hand until scott covered his lifeless body with dirt and planted flowers on his grave. pearl was an ally with loyalty abound up until the free for all that killed her. cleo, his chosen soulmate, never once entertained the idea of turning her back to scott, not even as the world grew emptier, not even for the person her life was bound to. martyn- for all intents and purposes- fought by scott's side until the end of the world, until his mind and body fractured and he turned on his heel. but even then, that wasn't betrayal; not to scott, because he knows what it is to be the last one standing.

scott's allies don't choose to leave him; they die before they get the chance. and even after their deaths, there are new friends to lean on. grian stood by his side in that sweltering desert as their fingers knocked arrows and the sand exploded into glass. when cleo died in double life, he looked to pearl, and for the first time, he saw her. he died looking into her eyes, but his heart felt whole because finally, he understood her. alone in the world together, they mended what was broken.

gem has flipped this on its head. it's not that she was fickle from the start— no, not at all. but something burned under her skin from the start, a fire in her eyes that scott is far too familiar with. when she burst from her home with one red eye and blood matted in her hair and splattered along her skin, she was smiling with sharp teeth. the void trickled along her skin, inky and endless and so so cold. the funny part about it was that scott saw her and thought she looks like herself now.

in the wake of gem's fury, scott has nothing and no one. he won't be able to turn his back to her again, not after knowing the sheer terror of her eyes boring bloody, gaping holes into his skull. he spent days curled up in tiny caves and tucked away behind jagged cliffs. he was utterly alone, more alone than he's ever been. scott's allies are what make him scott— what is he if he stands in solitude, no warm faces to share food and diamonds snd secrets with?

what is scott now if not a shell?

#secret life spoilers #it's almost eerie to see him so alone. he's strong on his own but he's twice as strong with the bonds he makes #but for the first time his team has fallen apart #and all it took was the smallest nudge from the eye in the sky #scott smajor #smajor1995 #secret life #3rd life #last life #double life #limited life #trafficblr #flower husbands #solidaritygaming #zombiecleo #pearlescentmoon #geminitay #inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #grian