#again: key word here is 'silly' and 'dumb' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kissagii · 2 months

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Your brothers are dumb, but Isagi is always your number one fan.

cw: gender neutral reader, 2.4k words, reader is rin & sae's musically gifted sibling, silly isagi, obscene amounts of pining, i don't know how music competitions work lol

@celestair it's here!!!! thank you so much for the fabulous prompt <3

“So, you’re on next, how do you feel?” Your friend Yuki asks, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. The performer before you is wrapping up his piece, and your turn on stage is approaching far too quickly.

“Were they there?” You whisper, completely ignoring her question.

“Didn’t see ‘em,” Yuki sighs, “But hey, you can’t see anything from up on that stage, don’t give up just yet.”

Despite her attempts at encouragement, you both know the truth. They aren’t there. They never are. Even now, as you prepare to step onstage in the final round of a national piano competition, your two soccer-obsessed brothers are nowhere to be found. You should’ve expected that from the start when the most they could offer to your invitation was “ok.”

How many soccer games have you attended by now? How many hours have you spent in the sweltering heat, watching your brothers run up and down a field kicking a ball around? And despite all that, they have yet to deem one of your music events as worth their time. You’re half sure the reason they neglected to arrive was because neither one would be caught dead sitting in the same room as the other. It’s always a competition with those two – a test to see who could be the better soccer player, the worse brother – and you’re simply caught in the crossfire as you pursue your own wholly different passions.

But now, unfortunately, there’s only one thing to do: go out on stage, play your heart out, and hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll get a scrap of recognition from one of the fools who shared your last name.

“Break a leg. And don’t let your shitty brothers get to you,” Yuki says, nudging you out onto the stage as the previous performer exited past you.

When you walk onstage there is no announcement of your name, no applause. There never is. Just a silence so thick it could be cut with a knife as the audience watches with judging eyes, anticipating eyes, and… hopeful eyes? The stage feels different today, fresh and pleasantly cool, as if the crushing expectations are lifted ever so slightly.

Then you see him. It’s just a glance, an impression of an individual, a hint of green and black in your periphery. But when he sees you it’s earth-shattering. He can breathe again – but only one barely-muffled gasp, because you’re quick to steal the air from his lungs as his heart begins to inexplicably race. Isagi has been in the same audience seat many times by now – the same seat every time, for his favorite view – yet every time he sees you walk out onto that stage it’s like rebirth, a preparation for the waves of joy and sadness and admiration and, dare he say it, love, that would wash over him as you played. All he has to hope is that you know he’s there, watching like he always is. And for the first time, you know – you deeply, truly, know – someone is out there watching you.

For this competition, you chose Liszt’s Un Sospiro. After mastering the technique, you spent hours of practice imbuing the piece with a thousand emotions, a thousand ways to sigh, and yet none of them felt quite right. So in the ten seconds before your fingers hit the keys, you have a decision to make.

Yoichi.

Of course, how could you forget?

Without a moment’s hesitation, you begin to play, the notes dancing with the image in your mind. Simply the thought of him makes your heart race in time with the arpeggios, your measured breaths falling out of time as you let the music wash over you. The emotion flows so naturally you’re not sure if you’re pushing them into the music or if the music is pulling them out of you, a different one for each phrase, the joy and fear and longing and hope and desperation. You could practically see them, figures of light in every color dancing together across the stage and out into the audience, seeking out their target.

They more than find their target: they crash into him like unceasing waves. Each one slightly different than the last, yet all so familiar; a language without words, yet each phrase he understands clearly.

Is it five minutes, one, or thirty? Time begins to blur, everything fading to soft pink and green and orange and blue, colors and sounds existing independently of earthly constraints. It’s transcendental, almost, the room immersed in a lovestruck state of reverie until the final notes echo through the auditorium.

By the end of the piece his chest is aching, and yours is aching too. The exhilaration hardly makes sense – were you not full of worry only minutes ago? Or had it been an eternity since anything other than Yoichi was on your mind? Adrenaline pulsing through your veins makes your head spin as you attempt to process your own performance. Oh, how unreal it felt. It had been a long time since you last felt so moved by your own playing… yes, truly a long time.

The audience applauds with the required politeness, if not a bit louder than usual. None of it falls on your ears, though. You’re too busy staring at Isagi’s distant face as he gazes back at you with sparkling cobalt eyes. He nearly forgets to clap, sitting so unblinkingly still that those in the seats next to him wonder if he’s alright. He’s more than alright – his mind is racing in the same way it does when he scores a goal, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control he has to keep him from running to you now.

As soon as you’re backstage, Yuki barrels into you, earning a few miffed glares from the last few performers preparing to go on. “Oh my god, that was amazing!” She whisper-yells, “I’ve never heard you play like that! See, I knew you’d do just fine without them in the audience.”

Right. Them. You had forgotten about them while onstage.

“I think I’ve found someone else worth playing for,” You murmur, half to yourself. For the first time, you didn’t really mind that your brothers hadn’t been there. Of course, it would’ve been nice, but without them… without them, you had made magic. You can make magic.

Yuki smiles brightly, the way she always does. “You’ve gotta tell me everything. And quickly, so as soon as this shindig is over you can head out and see your loverboy.”

“How’d you know that’s what it was?”

“Trust me, it was obvious. I’m pretty sure everyone knew.”

So, of course, you tell her everything. And as soon as the final round of applause echoes down the hallway, you’re getting pushed toward the door, standing nervously in the auditorium lobby until a familiar face emerges from the exit doors.

You see him first, which means you get to watch in real-time as he sees you and immediately lights up like a kid in a candy store. It’s his third epiphany of the day, and the only thing he can think to do is run toward you, frantically apologizing to strangers as he weaves through the crowd. Before you can even greet him or thank him for coming, he thrusts a large bouquet of flowers into your hands.

“You did amazing! Your music is like magic and I think I might be in love with you!” Isagi blurts out.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, that was probably tactless. No, it was definitely tactless. I’m sorry. It’s just, I saw you up there and I heard you play and it was like the music was talking to me and it was saying, oh, by the way, you have feelings for them and it’s actually ridiculous that you didn’t notice earlier because you’re absolutely whipped, y’know? Is that weird?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his unrestrained reaction, the genuineness in his tone. “No, it’s not weird at all.”

“It’s not?” He asks, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Of course not. It means you heard what I was trying to tell you.”

It’s his turn to be surprised, and he lets out a soft, confused, “Eh?”

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to confess to you directly, so I did it the only way I knew how. Yoichi, will you go out with me?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” He beams, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile before; little wrinkles appear next to his eyes and his slightly crooked teeth are on full display. Shyly, he asks: “Could I hug you?”

“Please do,” you say, opening your arms to let him wrap his tightly around you. For a moment you stand in silence (not true silence, of course, because the room is full of people) and feel his heartbeat hammering against your chest. He feels your heartbeat too, he swears he can hear it over the noise.

“Thank you for coming, Yoichi,” You whisper, gripping the flower bouquet tightly, “It means a lot to me that you could be here.”

He hugs you tighter, so tight it feels like your ribs might crack in his grip. “Of course. You always come to my big games, there’s no way I’d let myself miss one of your big events. Speaking of that, do you know when the results come out?”

Though you’d like to keep hugging him forever, you let go and check the time.

“They’ll let us back into the auditorium in an hour, though they never seem to announce the winners on time.”

“In that case, can I take you out on a date while we wait? Unless you already made plans to wait with someone else… ahh, I really should’ve thought this out more.” Isagi scratches the back of his neck with an awkward smile, a nervous habit of his that never seems to lose its charm.

“Oh, no, I don’t have plans. I’m sure Yuki’s already gone off with her boyfriend, and you’re the only person I really know who showed up to watch. Spending the hour with you is a serious step up from waiting alone.”

“Let’s go then! There’s a cute café just down the road if you’re hungry, or we could go walk around the mall if you’d prefer.”

Isagi lets you lead for the hour, making it a bit of an early celebration. Because while the results aren’t out just yet, he’s entirely sure that your performance is worth a hundred gold medals and more. Anything you want to do is good enough for him, even if it’s something as simple as window shopping in formal wear, and he does everything in his power to make sure he’s the best new boyfriend possible. After all, he’s won at life, hasn’t he? Because now he gets to date you – he gets to give you flowers and cheer for you and hold your hand and make you smile.

As you sit in the adjacent seats waiting for the results to be announced, he rubs his finger affectionately over your thumb.

“See, I told you they’d start late,” You whisper with a laugh.

“They must’ve realized their trophy wasn’t big enough to properly congratulate you,” He whispers back.

“Hey, don’t say things like that! I haven’t won yet.”

“I don’t think you witnessed yourself perform. You did amazing.”

“And you’re not a musician, so you’re not qualified to decide who won.”

“Even an untrained ear can tell you were the best up there. Trust me.”

Before you can come up with a witty reply, the head judge steps up to the podium on stage, holding a single sheet of paper in her hand. She gives a short speech – something about appreciating the hard work of the competitors – but neither you nor Isagi hear half of what she says. The room is silent waiting for the top three to be announced.

“In third place,” The Judge calmly says into the microphone, “Matsuoka Yuki.”

Immediately you burst into cheers, hastily untangling your hand from Isagi’s so you can applaud your friend. Her performance had been stunning, and she’s more than deserving of the prestigious accomplishment.

“In second place,” The Judge continues, once the applause quiets down, “Watanabe Shigeru.”

Another talented performer, of course. He had won his fair share of competitions, and the two of you had stood together on the winner’s stage more than once. As soon as you finish applauding, Isagi grabs your hand and squeezes tightly, as if to say the Judge will call your name next, I just know she will.

The moment you spent months waiting for is here. Either your hours of rehearsal and stress and aching hands paid off, or they didn’t. And the only thing between you and knowing was one sentence from the Head Judge’s mouth.

“Finally, in first place, winner of the Japan National Piano Competition, Itoshi Y/n.”

I’ve won. It’s as if you’re up on that stage once more, the way that the room explodes into applause like thunder. Isagi is shouting and shaking you by the shoulders – he really couldn’t be prouder of you. He knew all along, it seems, that your indirect confession was worth a gold medal from the organization and a thousand more in his heart.

The head judge invites the winners up to the stage, and Isagi nearly pushes you out of your seat to receive your award. Yuki meets you onstage, whispering her polite but excited congratulations to you. You return them hurriedly before taking your place on stage to be presented with your trophy. The process of handshakes and photographs feels like it takes forever when all you and Isagi want is to spend the rest of the afternoon together in celebration.

Isagi meets you in the auditorium lobby again, and he presents you with the same bouquet of flowers a second time. “You won! You actually won! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thank you, Yoichi,” You say, grasping his hand with your free one, “Thank you for being here to inspire me. Now c’mon, let’s go celebrate!”

The rest of the afternoon is blissful, almost unreal, just you and Isagi enjoying the sweetness of victory and love. When your phone begins receiving text message after text message you can hardly be bothered to reply immediately, even when you get the message you nearly spent the whole day waiting for.

rin: good job on the competition or wtv

isagi 💚

#imagine ⋆｡°✩#isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x gn reader #isagi x gender neutral reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi x you #isagi x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x gender neutral reader

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a3risbaby · 1 year

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what we whispered in the dark [m]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 stardew valley : sam x afab!reader (no pronouns)

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Between the sneaking around and him nearing cumming in his pants from a heated kiss, you don't feel like a pair of twenty-somethings who are three and a half seasons into their relationship. And something about that makes your heart soar. He always finds a way to make you fall in love like it's the first day all over again.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 smut (minors dni), fluff, established relationship, face-sitting, vaginal fingering (barely), cross-posted on ao3 | 1.9k words

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 my first x reader smut! i was going to continue, but i figured that this was a good stopping place. let me know if you liked it :)

On your first day in Pelican Town, you tried to greet everyone, introducing yourself as the new farmer taking over your grandfather's dilapidated farm. The reactions varied from the gruff Get the fuck out of my face (Shane, your favorite grouch) to the stand off-ish Oh...you're not what I was expecting (Jodi, who's warmed up a little) to the pleasant Nice. I'll see you around (Alex, one of your fastest friends).

And Sam? Sam was sweet, you realized immediately, and your impression hasn't changed since. With his bright hair and even brighter smile, he always passes you with a chipper wave, kicking off on his ever present skateboard, and you find yourself saving all of your fished-up Joja Cans just to see his face light up. Sam is sweet and kind and nice and just a little dumb and funny and currently doing a really shitty job of sneaking out of his house.

"Can you be a little quieter?" you hiss from the bushes, wincing as his knee hits the windowsill for the second time.

You're not worried about Kent. In fact, he's watching the two of you right now from his usual spot underneath the front yard tree, the smallest frown marring his features. The last time you were rushing to avoid the 2AM fine, you made a point of stopping and asking Kent for his blessing. Less because it mattered and more because he often sat here until late, and you weren't sure if you could avoid both his insomniac habits and the town's curfew.

"His mom leaves the house around ten," Kent murmurs. "Make sure to set an alarm before you get distracted with playing your video games."

"No worries, sir, I'm up by sunrise," you say, eyes not leaving your boyfriend. He's finally making his way down the makeshift rope ladder. "Can you please teach him how to sneak out properly next time?"

Over your shoulder, Kent snorts softly. "Sure."

It's been years since either of you were a teenager, but Sam breathes a youthful energy back into you, taking your hand as soon as he hits the ground and running off with one last glance at his dad. You keep up with his long strides, the wind whipping at your straw hat and clothes, and have to suppress a giggle as he nearly trips over a rock. He's really bad at this. You slip an extra glowstone ring onto his thumb.

"That's the first time I actually made it out undetected," he says, a laugh bubbling in his chest. "I need to tell Seb tomorrow."

"How does it usually go?"

"Well, I barely get out the front door—"

See? A little dumb. You bite back a silly comment, shooting him a smile that he returns instead.

The journey from his house to yours isn't far—go past Leah's cozy cabin, take a right at Marnie's expansive ranch, follow the newly laid stone path until you see the telltale stable—but it's long enough for your floating moods to sink into something akin to anticipation. At the stoop, you drop your keys once, then twice. It doesn't help that Sam's trailing his fingers along your sides, dropping kisses along your shoulders.

"You should just leave the door unlocked next time," he suggests when you finally get the key in. You barely managed to pull together the plan for tonight, and he's already talking about next time. "No one's out here this late."

"Except us."

"Except us," he echoes.

You kick your shoes off, but you're not sure where they land because Sam has you pressed against the closed door, lips moving against yours, clumsy in his haste. His hands are tight on your hips as he pulls you into him. You're tempted to lose yourself in the urgency.

"Sam, wait," you manage. He hums in acknowledgement, moving to brush his nose along your jaw. "I need to take a shower first. I've been foraging in Cindersap all day."

"You could be covered in slime goop, and I'd still find you hot," he says with so much sincerity your knees almost buckle.

"Thanks, but it's not a matter of whether or not I'm attractive." You push his shoulders squarely. He yields. "I feel gross. It'll take five, ten minutes tops. You can wait upstairs for me."

"And what if I get lost?" He raises his eyebrows. "I feel like I should follow you to the shower."

You roll your eyes. "Heel, boy. I'll be right there, okay?"

His excitement is endearing. Between the sneaking around and him nearing cumming in his pants from a heated kiss, you don't feel like a pair of twenty-somethings who are three and a half seasons into their relationship. And something about that makes your heart soar. He always finds a way to make you fall in love like it's the first day all over again. As promised, you're done washing off in seven minutes. For a second, you entertain the idea of walking into your bedroom with only a towel, just to gauge his reaction, but you throw on a tank top and shorts instead, foregoing underwear since it'll all be gone anyway.

You find him on the edge of your bed, sorting your mail into two piles on your nightstand. He looks up with a smile.

"JojaMart's having a sale on seeds," he reports. "You can use my employee discount and get a little more off."

"Yeah?" You step between his open legs and brush blond hair away from his forehead. Your beautiful, radiant boyfriend. "How much off?"

"I don't remember. Like 10%, I think?"

"Just ten?" You shimmy your shorts down an inch. He follows their journey like a hawk. "I thought it was more than that."

"Maybe it was twenty, I'm not sure."

"That's all? A shame." You push them down further, exposing your hips, and his eyes light up as he catches on.

He wets his lips and says, voice strained, "No, it was 100%. Definitely completely off."

You let him tug your shorts down, and when they pool around your ankles, you kick them off. His gaze flickers between your exposed skin and your face, impossibly reverent. He doesn't pray to Yoba like his family, but his expression, here and now, is one of a worshiper. Devoted and devout until the end of time.

He pulls you in for a kiss, mouth open to swallow your moans, and falls back onto your sheets. Your legs straddle his hips, and you whimper as he ruts his growing bulge against the apex of your legs. The material of his sweatpants drag against you—you definitely need to throw it in the laundry before he leaves.

"This wet already, baby? The night's barely started," he mumbles against your lips. Under normal circumstances, the stain on his pants would embarrass you, but anticipation thrums in your veins. The hands on your waist force you to still, and it's pathetic how close you are to begging him to keep going. "As much as I love it, I'm not going to last long like this and I want to finish in you tonight. Okay?"

"Okay," you manage, "but you better keep your word."

He laughs. "I always do. Now how much of a discount do I need to promise if I want you to sit on my face?"

You're a sight that Sam can never tire of. He isn't the wordy kind of person, but if he was, he'd likely wax poetic about how beautiful you look right now. Something about how the crescent moon spills from the open window and falls over your skin like liquid silver.

Huh. That actually wasn't bad. Maybe writing lyrics for the band has made him better at this sort of thing. He settles on the pile of pillows on your bed, murmuring encouragements as you shift forward and straddle his face.

"Are you sure?" you're asking for the third time, and he has to hold back from rolling his eyes.

He tries his best to look you in the face, which is hard considering everything else tempting his gaze. Yoba, this is a perspective that he needs to get more often. "Babe," he says, trailing kisses along your thigh. "Seriously. I already said it before, but this is exactly what I want. You're stunning. Amazing. Perfect. I'd rather die between your legs than anywhere—" And the rest of his argument is lost on his tongue as you finally take a seat and Sam considers quitting his day job at JojaMart to do this forever.

He inhales the dampness of your pussy, flattens his tongue, and basks in the way you keel forward, fingers curling around the headboard to keep steady. A shaky breath from you and he sets out in earnest, one hand digging into your ass, the other skimming its way up your body until it lands on your chest. He's not the type to curse much either, but fuck, your tits are amazing. He grasps at them firmly, just how you like it, until you yank your top over your head and he can finally get a full view.

His hands move again, this time to spread you further apart as his tongue laps at your dripping cunt, and if your growing cries are any indication, he's proud to say that he's gotten good at this lately.

Can you be a little quieter? he's tempted to echo the complaint you had at his house earlier, but he holds back from teasing for two reasons. One, he actually hates it when you bite back your moans. Your volume is exactly why you can't do this at his place, and he relishes in the way your noises go straight to his dick, currently straining to be freed from his sweats. And two, truthfully, he doesn't think he can separate from you long enough to say anything.

So he expresses his pleasure with guttural groans and pants as you grind down into his face, your clit clipping his nose in a way that has you squirming in his hold. You're fucking amazing, and he hopes you know this. He feels like he doesn't tell you that enough.

"So good, a-ah, Sam, fuck...just like that. Keep goi—oh my—"

Your pace stutters when his lips finally suction around your clit, and his name becomes a breathless mantra on your tongue as he unravels you on his. You rock against his face, previous hesitation forgotten as you chase after your high.

"'m so close," you whimper, your hands kneading your chest desperately. "So, so close—Sam, please—almost there."

Without warning, he sinks a finger into you, the metal of his glowstone ring cold against your flushed folds, and it's enough to send you over the edge. A flurry of broken curses spill over as you ride it out, and Sam swears he can drown in your pussy, lapping at your orgasm until you push off of him and slide onto your back.

"You're too good at this for a newbie," you insist, voice petulant as you catch your breath.

He wants to kiss you so bad, make you taste yourself on the slick that runs down his chin, but he cleans himself up and waits beside you patiently until you tug at his hand. A sign that you're ready for him to make good on his promise.

#stardew valley smut #stardew smut #sdv smut #sdv sam smut #stardew sam smut #stardew valley sam smut #a3risbaby.fandom

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 7 months

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Jizz Fingers║ ⓞⓝⓔⓢⓗⓞⓣⓢ

|| ꂵꍏꀤꈤ ꂵꍏꌗ꓄ꍟꋪ꒒ꀤꌗ꓄ || | PAIRING(s): alien!Joel x reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 3.2k | CONTENT: This is a crackfic. Joel is not Joel. He’s an alien that can shapeshift and isn’t into the splorgimums on their own planet. He wants to nut in you with his creampie fingers. It’s not supposed to make sense. It’s not supposed to be anything but fun and sexy and silly. It’s meta. It’s tongue-in-cheek. It’s self-indulgent. If you’re not into that kinda thing then idk what to tell ya, bud.

| SYNOPSIS: u get creampied by a dick finger alien Joel Miller.

The sonorous silver ship glided above you before descending gently into a large clearing in the field ahead. Bright light flooded your vision as a hidden door pushed away from the spacecraft and revealed an occupant.

It appeared to have an amorphous, fluid corporeal form, but no matter the shape it always remained an off-white greenish gray color. Six large onyx orbs were situated near the top of the form. You assumed they must be eyes or some other sort of organ. When the greenish grey flaps snapped together and apart a few times in quick succession, you realized they were in fact lidded eyes.

A warbled voice sounded inside your mind. “Do not be afraid. I come in peace, and I stand before you with no intention of harming you.”

You realize the creature is speaking to you through your own mind.

You should be afraid, but instead you’re just fascinated and exhilarated. You aren’t sure why they’d say the same thing twice, though, just in a slightly different way. You also aren’t sure if you should respond in your head, out loud, or at all.

“That’s kinda a weird thing to say. Like, you said it twice,” you point out, speaking loudly and clearly enough that the creature can hear you.

At least, you think they can hear you. You don’t see any ears. Then again, they possess the capability of telepathic speech, and there must be some equivalent to hearing for that. You try to think what that is called or what that might be called when the creature shifts back and forth but still doesn’t approach.

“Those were two separate statements,” the voice in your mind contends firmly.

“Huh?” you ask. You’re sure you sound dumb, but you were never really going to be a match for a higher level intelligent being anyways.

“When I bust, it is peaceful for every being involved. I also greet you with good intentions,” the voice patiently clarifies.

Suddenly you are standing no more than arm’s length away from the being. “I saved your achilles the trouble,” the voice in your mind said, as if it was some huge favor.

“My achilles is fine,” you grumble awkwardly. “I know I should hit leg day more, but sometimes it’s just so–”

“Our sex organs are complimentary,” the voice interrupts. “We could perform the Divine Dance, if you’d like.”

You wanted to ask why they had to come all the way to Earth just to get laid, but you think better of it.

“The splorgimums on my planet just don’t get me,” the voice explains. You realize you said your thought aloud.

“Oh. Uh, okay. S-Sorry about that. I, uh, didn’t mean to offen–”

The creature waves a gelatinous blob arm dismissively. “No offense taken. You’re not like other splorgimums. I can tell. You’re different,” it assures you.

You feel a blush creep onto your cheeks. “Oh. Well, uh–” an awkward giggle “—thank you. But I’m not really that special, here on Earth I mean. There are other women who are wayyyyyy more attractive. Oh! I know! You should try driving by Doja Cat’s house because oh my god she is so. fucking. fine. Like, if I had her in that I’m A Cow Bitch Moo costume for 5 minutes I’d—”

“No. No Doja Kitties. Only you.”

You shrug and accept their obsession with you.

“Okay. So now what? I don’t know where your Divine Dance hole is, and your floating blobs are sort of freaking me out,” you admit.

You keep tabs on the hovering goops that orbit the creature. They remind you of the time you tried to make Key Lime Jello Shots for your uncle’s cousin’s dog’s recital but added too much vodka.

“I can take the form of something pleasing to you. An earth male, perhaps? The female of your species is more difficult to capture as they are far superior.”

“So fuckin’ true,” you agree. “But, hhmmmm, a male specimen? I mean, I hate all men, but Pedro Pascal seems pretty decent. Maybe you could turn into Joel Miller? You know, from The Last of Us?”

The creature nods — you think it’s a nod — and transforms into Joel. Game Joel.

“Oh, uh, look, Pixel Daddy is fine as hell, especially in part 2, but I meant the HBO adaptation of the game. Please,” you correct.

“How’s this?” Pedro’s version of Joel’s voice asks aloud.

Your pussy bottoms out. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

You disrobe completely as you enter the spacecraft.

“I set it to 72º Fahrenheit. Is that a suitable climate for your meat suit?” Joel asks.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Mr. Alien, could you, like, put more of the twang into his voice? And use words like he does? Like, how he sounds on the show? You know what, let’s watch a few clips to get it right.”

You pull up your account on your phone, but it takes you a minute to find it because you forgot they changed it from HBO Max Go to just Max. “So fuckin’ stupid. Purple is a better color than blue anyway,” you mumble to yourself as you pull up an episode.

The galactic creature uses some magical time skip thing to binge the entire series and gets a yucky smudge of goop on your phone screen when it attempts to find season 2.

“There’s just one season? Please tell me there’s another one,” Joel implores.

“Yeah, there’s a second season, but it’s not out yet,” you inform him.

“Damn. But you said there’s two games already? So what happens in the second game?” he asks.

“You know what, we super don’t need to get into that right now. Let’s see what you’re working with,” you quickly change the subject and grab at his crotch.

He grunts in approval. “Needy lil thing, aren’t’cha? You want my cock, baby?”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Did you use a time jump thing to read a whole bunch of Joel Miller smutfic on Tumblr?”

Joel blushes and scratches the back of his neck. “Eh, mighta read a few.”

“Oh my god, you’re gonna be super nasty and dominant, aren’t you?” you sigh.

“Only if that’s what you want, baby. I’m a consent king,” he assures you.

“Well, alright then. I want you to rawdog me and slap my ass, okay?”

He smirks and pulls you close. “I’ll give ya what I give ya, and you just gotta take it,” he grunts into your neck as he nibbles and sucks downward.

You gasp at the sensation and grind your hips into him. “Oh fuck, Joel,” you whine. “I want you to wreck me, please!”

“Gonna fill that cunt up,” he says gruffly as he gropes your ass and breasts.

“Yes, Daddy, please!” you beg.

He pauses for a moment and looks confused.

“Oh, uh, you must not have got to those kind of fics–” you cough awkwardly “–uh, anyway. Sorry. Joel. Yes, Joel, please.”

“I can sense the vibrations of your inner sex organ when you call me that. If it is sexually gratifying to you, I wholly welcome the use of it,” the original voice says inside your mind.

“Oh wow. I love that you’re not kink shaming me. Glad you didn’t make it to that side of Tumblr,” you huff in a laugh.

Joel suddenly pins you against the wall and presses his hard, clothed cock against your bare skin. Even through the denim you can tell he’s huge. Apparently all those fic writers were right all along.

“Who’s gonna fill up that pretty cunt uh’yours, huh?” he demands as he grabs the back of your neck for leverage.

“Y-You, Daddy,” you say in an aroused tremble.

“That’s fuckin’ right. When my fat cock is inside you, I better hear you singin’ some thank you’s to Daddy for fillin’ you up so good,” he warns.

“Yes, Daddy, I’ll be your good girl,” you promise.

He flips you around without warning and pushes your chest flush against the wall.

“Even good girls need to be reminded every once in a while what happens if they don’t listen to Daddy,” he says in a low gruff.

His clothes have magically disappeared with the help of his alien outerspace boi powers. You feel him firm against your backside before a harsh slap of his palm replaces it. You jump and yelp in pain at the surprise spanking.

“Mmmm, pretendin’ you don’t want it, but I feel you pushin’ your ass back for more,” he taunts.

You whine because he’s right. You can only imagine the derisive comments he’d make if he felt how wet you are.

He lands another three harsh swats on the same patch of skin. Tears prickle up in your eyes. “D-Daddy,” you moan.

“You gonna thank Daddy for keepin’ you in line, baby?” Another swat. It stings so much you know there must be an imprint of his hand clearly outlined by your welting red flesh.

“Thank you, Daddy!” you choke out. “Th-Thank you for k-keeping me your good girl and not letting me b-be bad, Daddy. I only wanna be good for you, Daddy!” you wail.

“That’s what I like’tuh hear, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Ask Daddy to make you into his own little cocksleeve. Ask Daddy to give you this big, fat cock.”

You whimper as he slips his length between your folds and rubs back and forth in teasing passes.

“Daddy, I want you to use my pussy. I need it so bad. Please. I just wanna be your cocksleeve. Use my holes, Daddy,” you whimper.

You barely finish your sentence when he flips you around again and lines himself up with your entrance. Apparently the alien creature was just as into this as you are because their altered form reverted back to the amorphous gray green blob. You’re way too horny to be picky about it right now, so you squeeze your eyes shut. You forgot to charge your vibrator, anyway.

Their penis was more like fingers that kinda moved around randomly. You don’t know. You’re not an astrophysicist or whoever it is that would best be knowledgeable about alien wieners.

Its spongy gray appendage felt firm and slimy as it entered you. There was some sort of phantom connection to your mouth and throat as well, the sensation of its finger-penis dragging back and forth, able to be felt in both your pussy and your mouth. It was weird, but you knew if it was Joel Miller doing it then it would somehow become totally fine and very hot.

“You’re getting too lost in the sauce,” you whine. “You’re in your true form again. Change back.”

“Mmmmm, sorry, baby,” came the familiar gravelly voice once more.

When you felt brave enough to open your eyes again, you saw those familiar Wreck-It-Ralph sausage fingers and sighed in relief. The alien had changed back to your preferred form of Joel Miller as portrayed by José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal.

As much as you wanted to stare at his face, you also wanted him to dick you down through the floorboards of the ship. You wiggle to sink down onto your hands and knees. “Wanna be wide open for you, Daddy,” you pout.

He makes an approving growling noise and scrambles behind you, shoving you downward between your shoulder blades until your face is smushed into the floor. He makes no effort to warn you before slamming his entire length into you. The impact of his wide tip against your cervix is so forceful it punches the air out of your lungs. You let out a panicked, strangled moan, suddenly unsure if you were going to be able to take this dick like a champ.

Joel grabs your hips for leverage and starts pistoning rough, deep strokes into your drenched pussy. “Gaahh–Goddamn! Fuckin’ chokin’ it, honey,” he rasps in a labored voice. “Feel so fuckin’ tight for me.”

“It’s s-so big, Daddy. I dunno if I can take it,” you cry.

“You can take it. You can take it for Daddy. Be a good girl or m'gonna hafta punish you,” he cautions. As a reminder of what that might entail, he strikes your backside so hard your entire body jerks as you let out a sob.

A high pitched moan gathers in Joel’s throat as you start to accommodate his size. “Yeah, fuckin’ like that, huh? Like when Daddy spanks you? Makes ya listen?”

“You’re so good to me, Daddy!” you sob. Your arousal is practically dripping down your thighs. You listen to the hum of the engines mixing with the sounds of your drooling cunt being fed Joel’s massive cock over and over again. He grabs your wrists and pulls you upward, using your limbs like reins on a horse. You have no control over the depth of penetration in these positions, and Joel is opting for nothing less than utterly devastating your pussy.

“M’gonna give you these fingers, too, baby. Know you can take it,” he pants.

He releases your arms and lets you scramble to catch yourself before faceplanting.

“Hey! You could’ve at least–”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth and take what Daddy gives you,” he snarls.

You whine and clench around him. You feel a boogery churro type object prodding at your asshole. You turn your head quickly enough to see the creature has let Joel’s arm halfway revert back into the wiggly blobby thing.

“Did I say you could turn around?” he barks. He spanks you again with his 100% Joel hand, hard enough that you know there are pinpricks of blood beginning to seep through.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” you scream.

You feel him now inside both holes. It’s overwhelming and amazing. The phantom throat thing is back again, and you like how you gag even with an “empty” mouth.

“Got enough for every hole you got and then some, sweetheart,” he practically slurs. He sounds completely wrecked.

You feel your lower belly heating up and quickly tightening.

“Oh my fucking god, Joel. I’m getting so close,” you gasp.

“THAT AIN’T MY FUCKIN’ NAME WHEN I’M STUFFIN’ YOU WITH MY COCK, SWEETHEART,” he grits out as he wraps his hand around the front of your throat and squeezes.

When your breaths quickly become hard to take, you know you’re going to come soon.

“I want your space juice inside me, Daddy!” you cry out, not caring if you’re breaking the illusion. You still needed to be clear and consensual in your approach to this intimate exchange, and you needed to address the weird topic of whether or not your birth control could do effective hand to hand combat with spaceboi cum.

“Our sexual organs are compatible, but our reproductive hormones and liquids are not,” the voice explained in your mind.

The Jim Carrey baby grinch was kinda cute, but you still felt better knowing you weren’t going to birth a little green gremlin alien baby. (Although you did think Victor or Clementine would be nice names.)

“Put a baby in me, Daddy! Fuck your baby into me!” you beg now that you know you can’t actually get pregnant.

“Uh, I mean, there’s just so much pregnancy fic out there,” Joel hedges carefully, still maintaining his merciless thrusts. “You don’t really wanna make this into a whole thing do you? Ya know, with the pregnancy storyline and stuff? Some users have actually said they prefer—”

“No, Joel, I’m not actually—” you interrupt in a huff “—I’m just saying it to be sexy. It sounds sexy. Besides, there’s some fic writers who basically only write creampies but none of their characters ever seem to get pregnant. It’s kinda wild. There’s a fic writer I can think of right now, actually. She loves creampies so much.”

“So she’s just really into pussy gettin’ drenched but nobody’s gotta deal with babies? Sounds like a pretty sweet deal if ya ask me,” he approves.

“Yeah, I think the only pregnancy fic she has is, like, this really nasty oneshot where the reader is already pregnant and she gets double teamed by Tommy and you at the same time. Oh and she lactates. I wasn’t into it at first, but it was kinda hot. Maybe you’ve read it? The author calls herself Puddles?”

“Oh, her? That Gasoline Rainbow lady? I thought she just made memes?” He sounds surprised and impressed. He’s hitting your cervix repeatedly with such force that you feel like your vagina is going to look like somebody dropped a tray of lasagna on a pubic hair linoleum floor.

“No, she actually has, like, legit fic on there, too. She’s, like, really talented. I can’t believe she doesn’t have more followers,” you laugh incredulously.

You’re glad he doesn’t ask how you would know how many followers she has since that isn’t publicly available information. You hate it when plot holes have to be smoothed out nicely and still fit in with the story. It’s so boring and way too much work sometimes.

“Maybe stuff like alien jizz fingers is a little too much for people to–”

“Okay, this is getting too meta. Let’s just get back to you fucking me so rough I can’t walk right for an entire week, okay?”

“Hnngg, fuck yeah. Daddy’s gonna wreck this cunt,” he hisses as his thrusts pick up pace.

“DADDY, I’M GONNA COME,” you cry as you start clenching and seizing around the massive circumference of his cock.

Joel lets out a guttural, choked moan as he empties inside you. You can feel it from his weird creampie fingertips, too — even the invisible one in your mouth and throat. You’re trembling, trying to keep yourself upright as Joel fucks into you through his orgasm. You lick your lips. There’s a flavor there. Is that….?

“You like Daddy’s brisket cum, sweetheart?” he grunts as his thrusts slow to a sloppy grind.

“I thought I tasted barbecue,” you muse. It was bewildering, but mostly satisfying.

“Yeah, tastes just like those Fourth of July backyard get-togethers you love in that Texas heat,” he breathes. "You runnin' around in barely anything, makin' me hafta adjust myself so your dad don't catch his best friend ogling his precious daughter."

“I’m starting to think you read more fic than you admitted to earlier,” you assert.

“I like it, darlin’,” he shrugs.

“Are you gonna follow Puddles now? Oh! Can you do a mind link thing with her and see what she’s working on next?” you implore.

Joel appears to zone out for a minute, and you take the opportunity to stare at his naked body. He looked perfect. His eyes focused again as he looked at you.

“Her waveforms are erratic and very concerning, but once I subdued a Brain Goblin inside her mind I was able to discern she is likely to be releasing some Ezra from Prospect centered fictional stories,” the voice inside your head revealed. "They are very sexually aggressive."

“Nice,” you say under your breath.

“So you gonna let me have that sweet pussy again, sweetheart?” Joel drawls.

“Yes. But I’m going to need you to familiarize yourself with Pedro’s extensive works. I’m thinking we could do some really great Mando roleplay in this spaceship,” you say with a big smile as you gesture around.

Joel smirks at you. “Don’t matter what form I take. You’re still gonna be callin’ me Daddy.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you agree with a big grin.

I hope those splorgimums understand what they lost bc that's our man now! Special thanks to Multiversed Daydreamer (Fuzz) for inspiring part of the title and @xdaddysprincessxx for the shared derangement over That Old Man™.

Undying thanks to @psychedelic-ink and @bonezone44 for writing some of my fave ~aLtErNaTiVe KiNk CoNtEnT~ and inspiring me to let my brain run wild with this crackfic.

Art in graphic includes transformed works of the Mucinex booger man.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

P.S. - I counted how many times "Daddy" appears in this, and it's 29.

tagging: @wannab-urs, @gracieispunk, @milla-frenchy, @patti7dc. @lumoverheaven, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, @toxicanonymity, @rubyfruitjungle, @huffle-punk, @jupiter-soups, @swiftispunk, @theywhowriteandknowthings

#crackfic #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic

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nevernonline · 2 months

Text

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #16; the part we play.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 1.5k

note: in-between photo sets is some writing!! xo

masterlist ▸ 015 leave it to the cullens (part 2). ▸ 017 happy trails.

Jumping out of bed and throwing on a random pair of sweatpants scattered on her floor in what y/n referred to as her “stress pile” of clothes, she ran down the hallway to the front door to check who she had kept waiting for over ten minutes.

Much to her surprise it wasn’t one of her obnoxious friends waking her and her overnight guest up so early, but a shady one. Joshua.

“Y/n? I know you’re here, I asked the front door man if he had seen you leave yet this morning? Hello?”

And with a couple more knocks pounding in her brain, she swung the door open to reveal a smiling old friend holding a bouquet of wild flowers and a box of pastries.

“Sorry. Hangover. Why are you here?”

“Tomorrow is your birthday?”

“Right. But, it's also 7:30 in the morning?”

“I thought I’d come by today so I didn’t disrupt whatever plans you have tomorrow with Seokmin and Jun. That’s okay?”

“Yeah.”

“So.. Can I come in? Or do you not want to have a chocolate croissant?”

“I do, but coffee! I’m out of coffee. Can we go get some? I can’t possibly have a pastry without it, silly.”

“Yeah, of course. Mind if I use the bathroom?”

“Why don’t you just use the-”

In all of her attempts at protesting Joshua walking through her apartment and finding the boy hidden in the guest room, he still managed to somehow find a way in. Just like he was doing to her heart. She knew she shouldn’t even entertain the idea of spending a day with him and pretend that she has no idea the amount of blackmail he had a hand in, but a part of her couldn’t help it.

In all her daze of thinking of the moral repercussions of his and her own actions. She didn’t even notice him slipping back by her side. As she rapidly texted the man she unnoticeably had hidden in the room down the hall it was his time to sneak out like a secret to be kept.

“Ready?”

“Uh, yeah. Let’s go.”

“So, how was Wonwoo’s event?”

“Well for starters I had no idea that gamers drank so hard, I felt like I was back in freshman year of college trying to keep up with drunk Soonyoung and you at those dumb ass Dream Boy parties you used to take me to.”

“That hard, huh?”

“Yeah, I haven’t drank like that in so long. It’s fun once and a while I guess.”

Walking into the white walled coffee shop with Joshua felt like some sort of omen, but y/n couldn’t decide if it was a good one or a bad one just yet.

If Joshua was honest about his play in the game with Mimi, maybe someday down the road she could forgive him and patch up their friendship one last time. But, the more he waited to say anything, the more he lied and kept his secret the less she even believed he’d own up to his actions.

“What would you like?”

“Just a drip coffee please, large, no sugar or milk.”

“Okay, I’ll pay.”

“Wow. Thank you so much.”

Sensing y/n’s sarcasm, he smiled and turned towards the register placing their matching order and grabbing the cups as he handed her the steaming cup of fresh coffee and made their way back to her apartment.

Waiting to cross the street her front door opened, walking out was Minghao dressed in his same outfit from the night before, catching y/n’s eyes, as she quickly turned Joshua around to look at a dog passing by so Minghao could make his quick exit without any suspicion.

When she was sure he made his exit and got out of the line of sight, with Joshua by her side they headed back up to her apartment, announcing she needed to go use the restroom fast and search the bedroom that once belonged to another untrustworthy friend.

Under her laptop sitting on the desk, a small note was placed with just the corner of the purple sticky note sticking to the side.

‘Swan, by midnight tonight you’ll be one year older. I hope another trip around the sun brings you peace of mind and the happiness you truly deserve. See you tomorrow, MH.”

Placing the note under the cover of her laptop, she smiled to herself and decided now was the time to confront an elephant in the room.

She walked back up to Joshua sitting on her couch, the plate of chocolate croissants placed on the glass coffee table, two cups of coffee on either side.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course.”

“I need you to listen to me, like really listen and don’t deflect. I need you to tell me how you got my journal to Mimi.”

“I didn-”

“You did. I know it was you who took it, I just want to know why?”

“Just listen. I didn’t take it to give it to Mimi. I actually took it before she even got back in touch with me. And I didn’t just stumble upon it on my own time. Minnie showed me it, she wanted me to know how much I hurt you and how you felt about me because you never told me. You kept all those cards so close to your chest, I felt like I had to read more. So, the night of Mingyu’s bar opening, I had Mimi over at my house after, we were just catching up, talking, nothing too serious, she had just moved back and needed somewhere to stay for the night. She was the one who found your journal and took it and concocted the entire plan.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I guess why didn’t you just tell me all of this at the beginning?”

“I was just going to bring you your diary back and ask you out, I had feelings for you too. I still do. I eventually was going to tell you everything. But, it just got so complicated and the day I came over and saw Minghao here, I got so pissed off at you for trusting him after he hurt me, I figured he’d hurt you too.”

“But he didn’t. You did.”

“I know. I should’ve just told you the truth from the beginning, but I was scared to lose you.”

“You already had lost me. How am I supposed to even believe a word you’re telling me right now?”

“Because, I have proof. The only reason I even still talk to Mimi is to make sure she doesn’t go too far.”

“Why did you fight with Minghao then?”

“He pisses me off. Simple as that. I knew he had helped Mimi. I knew he was being deceitful to you as well, but so was I. It was just a matter of who owned up to it first.”

“Alright. What else do you know?”

“I know that Minnie is helping Mimi. They’ve been in contact with each other for quite some time, even before Mimi moved back. I can’t tell you why only because I genuinely have no clue. But, I have a feeling she's trying to hide something about herself and not exposing you.”

“And Mingyu?”

“No. He has nothing to do with it.”

“Okay.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm, sure.”

“Do you think we can ever get past this? Even if we just stay friends or see each other once and a while?”

“If what you’re telling me is a hundred percent true, then I think we can. But, if I find out you’re lying to me, I will never speak to you again.”

“I can show you the texts. Between me and Mimi, Minnie, Minghao. Anyone involved.”

“Who sent me the bouquet? You right?”

“Yeah. It was just a warning to be careful about the people around you.”

“Okay. Well. Thanks for telling me, I guess.”

“There’s something else.”

“Uh, alright?”

“Tonight. There’s a party at Mingyu’s bar that Minnie was throwing for your birthday. I came over here initially to invite you. They told me only you’re invited. No Seokmin, Jun, or anyone else.”

“Why?”

“They wanted me to take you as a surprise.”

“My party is supposed to be tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

“So they have something planned for me and I feel like it’s safe to say it’s not good.”

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s safe to assume that yeah.”

“Okay, if you want to make it up to me. You’ll help me sneak Minghao and the dorks into the back of his restaurant.”

“Yes.”

“Call Jeonghan, tell him everything. Get him to cause a distraction so they can come inside. Text Minnie and ask if it’s okay you invite Seokmin to come with you and I. It's believable I wouldn’t go anywhere on my own without him and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Are you going to tell me what the rest is?”

“Yes, eventually.”

“Okay, let’s hurry, we have about three hours until I’m supposed to bring you.”

“What’s the dress code?”

“Formal. It's some sort of mask party.”

“Fuck.”

“So you’re still friends with Hao?”

“Yes, idiot. I heard you jiggle the doorknob this morning. Come on.”

taglist: @sun-daddy-yoriichi @hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo@minhui896@wonwooz1@porridgesblog@jasssy051@soonyoungblr@saucegirlreads@musingsofananxiouspotato@young-adult-summer@punkhazardlaw@bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo@k-drama-adict@90s-belladonna@blaycke@dnylwoo@to-mi-yo, @nonononranghaee

note: hi me again!! lol. I hope you enjoy this messy lil installment. not my favorite (everyone says this sometimes ik ik) let me know what you think our resident traitor mimi is up too 👀

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tsukkis-little-dove · 1 year

Text

𖧷 Study Buddy 𖧷

Kei had something he needed to ask.

Fluff!!

Word count: 1k

Warnings: kissing :)

You stare at Tsukishima, your brain unable to comprehend, fathom even, what is coming out of his mouth. The background noise of the library is completely drowned out by the TV static within your mind. You sat across from Tsukishima, laptop screens separating you two. He adjusts his glasses with one hand, the redness of his cheeks becoming more obvious the more you look at him.

You two had been studying for the upcoming exam, reviewing the content with each other. Quizzing one another every few slides, bantering about who was right. It had become a competition up until he threw an unexpected question at you.

“What are your feelings towards me?” His head tilting to one side slightly, his demeanor becoming stoic compared to the serious one he had with you most of the time.

He had been wanting to ask you this for weeks. Opportunities presented themself but he never had the guts. It would always be interrupted with you asking why he was making that face or if he needed your help, for once, to answer a question. But today, here, in this moment he had to know, because the feelings he had for you got stronger every day.

You look at him over your computer screen, your eyes widening and mouth opening slightly. Butterflies fill your stomach, you take a quick breath in, trying to form an answer.

Tsukishima and you had been friends for months now, frequently studying together and sitting next to each other during lectures. He was a constant in your life, a rock really. He kept your head in line with school, didn’t goof around unless it was late and you were delirious, he was a safety net. He would be the one you called when you couldn’t figure out an answer to a homework question, and he always answered. No matter the time of day. Sure he would mess with you, giving you a hard time for not knowing, you usually shooting back a ‘why do I even bother’ before he eases up and gives you the answer.

For him you were a really good friend. He felt like he could be vulnerable, laugh, and have a good time. You made him feel comfortable. He first developed a crush on you when you started passing him notes during class with silly doodles. A bright pink sticky note with purple pen ink reading ‘I have no idea what is going on’ with a dumb smiley face on it. From then on, he kept those notes in his binder. They would fall out sometimes and he would read them again, a wide smile developing with each word. Then it got worse when you would then whisper in his ear, asking questions about the powerpoint. The feeling of your breath on his ear gave him shivers, blood rushing to his face each time. When you started studying with him he would periodically glance at you on your computer, watching as you furrowed your brow at certain things. He could tell when you were lost, a sigh of defeat usually followed by you dropping your pen on the desk. He would raise his eyebrows at you before smiling and asking ‘anything I can help with?’ To which you two would banter about how easily you give up, causing you to laugh. The laugh he loved to hear.

“I don’t really know what you’re looking for me to say, Tsukishima.” Anxiety raising in your chest. “Like what kind of feelings?”

He sighed, “I know how I feel about you, I just want to hear what you have to say first before I make a fool of myself.”

“Oh,” you put your hands in your lap, fidgeting with a pen.

Up until this point, you hadn’t thought of him as more than just a friend. But thinking about it more- the glances during class, the coffee he would bring you some mornings, the always answered calls- you realize he took care of you. He cared for you.

He could see the gears moving, the fidgeting you do when you are unsure, his heart beginning to quicken as the thought of you saying what he feared the most.

“Tsukishima,” you spoke without looking up. The fear that what you two had could be ruined with the wrong words bubbling in your stomach.

“Yes,” his tone was unlike you’ve heard before, an ounce of worry in his usual unwavering voice.

You finally look at him, his brown eyes intently on you. “I’m afraid,” you take a pause before continuing.

His stomach falls into his butt, his shoulders sinking slightly.

You blink a few times, making sure to pick the right words. “I…I like you.” Now a bright pink hue radiating on your cheeks. “But I like you more than just friends.”

His demeanor immediately relaxes, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding until now.

“Is that… what you wanted to hear?” You become skeptical.

He chuckles at your insecurity, “I’ve had a crush on you for months now. And I’m just glad you feel the same.” He closed his computer, putting it away in his backpack. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

You follow suit, nervously joining him as you walk down the spiral stairs.

Now you feel nervous around him. It was weird how just admitting a few simple things made such a difference.

He opens the door for you, but right after you pass him he grabs your backpack handle. You stop in your tracks and turn to him. Before you have a second to ask why, he grabs the straps to your backpack and pulls you in pressing his lips against yours.

His lips were warm and soft. He gently touches your warming cheeks as he kisses you repeatedly, savoring every one. You hesitate at first but relax as he coaxes you for more. You kiss him back softly, the feeling of his hands against your face makes the nervousness disappear. He pulls away slightly, just enough to look over your face.

Your pupils were dilated, the color of your eyes much brighter than they were before. Your lips are now puffy and reddened. A gentle smile covers both of your faces.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.”

#tsukishima kei #confession #study date #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima scenarios #haikyuu #tsukki simp #he’s a secret softy and you know it #Em’s thoughts

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 4 months

Text

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 165- The Ghost of Christmas Past

Summary: While out cold on the Dorwinion castle floor, Josie dreams or "hallucinates" of last Christmas Eve when she was being held captive by her ex-boyfriend Peter in his remote cabin, deep in the woodlands just North of the Grey Mountains. A strange object is believed to hold magic. Clues blatantly dance like sugar plums through Josie's head but will she remember the trauma blocked memories when she awakens from her nightmare? Legolas and Lola throw words over Josie. Josie asks something critical of the Prince. Lola searches for someone unexpected.

*Warnings* NSFW-DARK.... with mentions of drugs, emotional abuse, angst, violence, strong language, sexual language and abuse, alcohol use

Chapter characters: Josie, Peter, Thranduil, Legolas, Lola

Chapter word count: 5,593

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through house, not a creature was stirring....except you as you paced about the living room of the secluded cabin, nestled in the middle of a desolate never ending forest. The cabin that your abusive, narcissistic and sadistic ex-boyfriend Peter was keeping you prisoner in and torturing you daily while doing so. You had been inside the wooden box for so long that you stopped counting the days and no one had come for you. How could anyone find you when you didn't even know where you were? One moment, you had been in a northern New Zealand bar and the next, you awoke in the back seat of Peter's car, bound, gagged and disoriented from being drugged.

You momentarily paused your tears and erratic steps to gaze out the window at the winter wonderland. The same window you've stared out of a gazillion times, imagining a beautiful blonde King on a great white horse riding down to free you from the evil clutches of the dragon you called Peter and slaying him with his mighty sword, then whisking you away to his castle in the heavens to live happily ever after...but he never came. It was just a dumb song anyways, that you listened to as a kid when you believed in magic.

Your tears softly free fell like the sparkling snow before you as you fogged up the glass with your hot breath, then drew a heart and whispered into it, the words you had pointlessly recited every single night.

"My King, take me away from this awful place."

The slamming of the backdoor put a startling stop to your silly pleas and in stomped Peter, ridding the wet snow from his coat and muddied boots all over the floor that he would soon make you clean up.

"Baby it's cold outside!" the tall, dark and handsome monster bellowed with a grin that you wanted to smack right off of his prickly bearded face, the beard that tore your neck up every time he ravaged you.

"I never would have guessed." you quietly riposted and went to get a mop before he ordered you to do it.

"Bitchy again. That time of the month eh? Well, I've got a box full of old treasures here that I snagged at a thrift shop. I thought since it's Christmas Eve, I'd get you something since you like that kind of crap, so a little thanks would be nice because you certainly don't deserve any of it with that mouth of yours. Women should be seen and not heard, except for the moaning of being fucked good and hard."

With your back turned to him, you rolled your tear ridden eyes. Good and hard. The only correct part about that was hard. The narcissistic creep didn't know how to be gentle in any way.

"What was that Josephine?? I can't hear you!" he snarled as he dropped the box on the coffee table in front of you, making you jump.

"Th..thanks." you swiftly mumbled as you flinched in fear of getting smacked.

"Thata girl. You wouldn't want to spend the holiday with a fat lip now. So where's dinner? I'm starving after that long ass trip."

"There's stew in the pot over the fireplace. It's all we had."

"I brought more food. It's on the back of the snowmobile. Go get it. Oh..and Josephine??" he smugly toyed while holding up the keys and jingling them. "Just in case you got any stupid ideas of taking off."

"Peter...I've been here for..I don't even know how long and I know you keep all the keys on you. You remind me every single day."

"Well, I have to because I know that every single day, the wheels are turning in your simple little mind, trying to find a way to leave me and that...will never happen. I told you that back home when you foolishly tried to leave before. I always find you. There is nothing out there for miles. That is why we are here. No one is coming and you know I'm right, don't you Josephine??"

"Y...yes Peter. You're always right."

"I don't like your tone. How many times do I have to explain it so you get it through your fucking fairy tale little head? There's nothing to the North for over a hundred kilometers and the East, West and South are nothing but mountains, rivers and woodlands. I've told you, if you want to go, go...but you know you'll never survive. All alone, in the dark, in the freezing cold, no food, no shelter, just turned 24 years old and you have absolutely no survival instincts or skills since you grew up sheltered from the world, moving from place to place every few months...and lets not forget about...the wolves."

And now you were sheltered again. And The wolves. You heard them howling every single night. It was just another reminder, besides the recurrence of the real big bad wolf rubbing it in your face, that you were trapped.

"You have everything you need here. Food, heat, electricity thanks to a very expensive generator, and most importantly...me. What do you have back there?? Nothing and no one. Your mom is dead, your dad is dead. You have no friends or other family. You have no money. All that you own is a bag of shit I brought with us that you already had packed when you tried to leave me that day. Everything else you have, I gave you. I own it. I own you."

You did have everything...except what you truly needed and wanted. Love. But you did have money. Lots of it that your dad left you in his will. But what good did it do you now? You were probably presumed dead anyways, if anyone even noticed you were gone. Peter was right. You had no one anymore but him.

You didn't want to hear his cruel rantings anymore, so you put on your coat and boots and went out to get the food.

Brushing the snow from the seat of the snowmobile, you sat down and gazed up at the full moon of the winter solstice, wondering if there was another like you, gazing into it too, wishing for things you wished for, searching for shooting stars to make those wishes upon. The last time you saw one was on your recent birthday, but that was two weeks ago, so now all you had to rely on was the moon and each unique and perfectly crafted snowflake that fell into your hand as you held it out, sobbing.

Although your faith in fairy tales was diminishing, the things that were real, you could not deny, such as the wicked effects of the Mercury retrograde that began on the 13th, just before the solstice and would last another week into the new year of 2022. Your life was already shit before it began, but it only seemed to make things worse. You could feel it through Peter's actions, the way it made someone dark even darker and nothing would change when it passed. This would continue to be your hell.

Sobbing harder, you quietly cried out. "Please help me. Someone."

Everything was so deafening outside, for the blanket of snow on the ground always absorbed sound which created a calming silence. There was no wind or breeze of any kind either in that moment and then...a cool whisp of air puffed softly over you, carrying the fragrance of lilacs, a scent you would never forget for they were flowers your mother loved.

For a moment, you smiled, believing it was her...her spirit, watching over you until you heard a man's voice and it certainly wasn't Peter's. The voice seemed to also carry in the breeze and it was deep and alluring, yet soft and loving...and filled with desperate concern.

"Who are you? Where are you?"

You gasped and flung off the snowmobile so fast as if it were on fire.

"Hello?? Wh..who's there??"

Seconds went by as your eyes darted about the darkness inside the trees and then all was quiet once more.

"Josephine!! Get your ass in here! I want my bottle of whiskey!" Peter shouted as he banged on the back porch window, glaring at you.

With great hesitance, still staring out into the nothingness, you grabbed the bag of goods and scuffled back inside, glancing back on the way with every two steps you took.

As Peter devoured his stew like the slob he was and slurped on his liquid fire, you sat on the couch, sipping wine in a state of befuddlement. Had you really heard someone? Or was your mind going into some kind of survival mode to protect your sanity, making you believe there was hope? Was it the retrograde or was your mind just completely breaking? Surely that had to be it. You were just flat out losing your mind. For one thing, how could you smell lilacs in the dead of winter?

Peter finished off most of the stew and then plopped in a chair by the fireplace and began his nightly regimen of getting sauced, but not enough to where you could ever take the keys from him. He was quite smart as most psychopaths were. The only way you would ever get them was from his cold dead body and you knew you didn't have the stomach to kill someone, not even him. It didn't mean you didn't wish him dead though. Maybe choke on a chunk of the deer meat in the stew from the deer he killed, slip in the shower or fall down the basement stairs. You've imagined all kinds of scenarios with you standing over him, watching him take his last breaths. Did that make you a bad person after all he had done to you in the past 4 years?

"You gonna open your gift or what?" he snapped.

You wanted nothing from him and would much rather throw the box in the fireplace....or at his smug ass face.

"It's..it's not Christmas day yet."

"Just open the fucking box Josephine! Your lack of appreciation really pisses me off."

Picking the box up, you fretted about what you would find, for his gifts were never thoughtful and usually just junk. and that's exactly what it was as you pulled out the first item.

Cheap cosmetic jewelry that maybe a 5 year old would wear for dress up. Honestly, you didn't think anyone would wear it and that's probably why it was in a thrift shop. Next...another pair of gawdy high heels which he bought only for his own fetish. You despised high heels and he was why. Then there was a long white dress, which at the time you had no clue would be the one you wore when you finally escaped 4 months later and the high heels would aid you in that feat.

The next two items were decent at least. Another fantasy book and a classic cassette tape that you could play on an old 80's boombox you had in the bedroom. You didn't know the artist or genre, but to you, music was music when you had none, for you couldn't pick up any radio stations out in timbuk-fucking-tu. Anything was better to listen to besides silence or the cringing sound of Peter's voice.

Lastly...you pulled out an object at least two foot tall that was heavy and wrapped in burlap.

"Thought you'd really like that one since you're into all that fantasy bullshit. It's supposed to be magical or some shit. That's what the lady said anyways. I don't think she was all there, if you know what I mean. She reminded me of one of those chicks that look like they're into that creepy voodoo shit or what not...a gypsy or some fortune teller maybe? Said it grants wishes."

"Well, than why would you give it to me? You know what I will wish for."

"Because you know I don't believe in all that hocus pocus hogwash! You're not going anywhere Josephine. Deal with it and just open the damn thing already."

Upon unraveling the string and removing the burlap, your eyes widened as you were now holding a realistic porcelain sculpture of...a male elf?? Not any ordinary elf though like one of Santa's helpers with striped tights and hats and shoes with bells on them. This one was of majestic youthful beauty and superior elegance, an Elvenking of royalty maybe? A King in all the ways you had always envisioned and dreamt of one to be, whether human or immortal, for he wore a crown of twigs and berries over his long, sleek platinum strands that hung perfectly straight over his broad and sturdy shoulders clear down to his abdomen. A high standing collar wrapped around his thick, elongated neck that was accentuated by a black blizzard stone, set inside metal prongs that reminded you of spider legs and it was centered and pinned just under his captivating clavicle at the V shaped opening. Crystals were something you knew well because of your mother's massive collection. This one in particular, also known as merlinite, was a very rare and powerful crystal. It was said to hold a strong connection to the earth that gave it grounding energy and also helped to give healing strength.

Down his slender body, ran a form fitting robe of shimmering silver and placed underneath him was a blood red outer robe that you could tell was twice his lofty height as it draped over his forearms and flowed around his feet in a swirling pool of scarlet satin. You guessed the beautiful giant to have stood well over 6 foot tall and to be highly resilient, vigorous, stealthy and agile.

The way he was prestigiously positioned on the tree carved throne with enormous elk-like antlers sprawling out behind his head, spoke of a highest stature that cautioned of puissant power and dominance. His head was held high, angled to the side with fierce confidence and noticeable arrogance. One knee was crossed over the other, revealing his grey leggings where his robe parted below the waist and one arm was relaxed on the limb rest as his hand slouched freely off the end. His other hand gripped a very tall wooden staff of twisted oak that was crowned by a peach sized and shaped amber jewel on the top, snuggly nestled inside a lattice of silver vines. Baltic gold the gem was sometimes referred to. It was made from tree resin and preserved for millions of years and would turn to stone. Just how old was this Ellon supposed to be?

Your perplexed eyes then traveled right back to his glamorous face because their was some kind of undeniable magnetic pull to this mystical being of defined glass. His skin was of flawless ivory and delicate as the porcelain the figurine was made out of. Like his body, his nose was long and lean, sloping down in to a softly pointed tip while his pronounced ears raised up in to stronger points. His supple lips were heart shaped and pouted ever so perfectly over a very compelling jawline. Even his Adam's apple was intriguingly and audaciously apparent.

Whomever created the sculpted masterpiece from clay with their bare hands was highly skilled and deeply invested in it. The artistry was of such detailed precision, right down to his crystalline eyes of the moon that your boring olive orbs were helplessly lost inside of and desperately trying to read. There were multiple rings upon his pampered fingers with one in particular standing out upon his left forefinger, a sizeable moonstone that resembled the icy blue hues of his eyes, eyes that drew you right in against your will as you began to understand them, ageless eyes that held presiding pain and darkness as if they had seen an eternity of hatred, fire, war and death, yet love and light, loyalty, wisdom and knowledge dwelled within them in competition with the evil and sheltered over those lonely soulful eyes were the boldest of brows, black as his knee high boots.

You also were now highly invested in the art piece. What was something like that doing in a thrift shop? Did the piece have a name? You wanted, needed to know more, so you carefully turned it over to see if there was any information on the bottom.

Gúl -o Aran Thranduil. Ech- a ithil sarn iest no i clair de lune was carved on it and nothing more.

"Clair de lune. I know and love the song. It's French for Moonlight...but the rest of these words, what language is that?" you whispered aloud with furrowed brows as you ran your finger softly over the grooves of the letters.

"What does it say?" Peter curiously answered your question with a question and a hiccup.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking. It's not English and I don't know how to pronounce any of it."

Peter took a hefty swig from his bottle and then chortled. "It probably says made in China."

Asshat, you thought. It wasn't any language you had ever seen and from all the fantasy books you have read, you guessed it to be from long ago...medieval era?? No...it had to be even older and you desperately wanted to decode it.

"Well why don't you put that pointy eared princess on the shelf...right there, in the window and make your stupid wish. I'll even entertain you and make one too." he barked, then got up, ripped it from your hand and sat it down on the wooden sill so hard, you swore it would shatter...and it should have, but it didn't. The elf sat chip free under the rays of the moonlight shining in from the window, his eyes sparkling in it as they looked right at you.

"I...I..I don't want to." you stammered as you began to tremble, knowing the whiskey was kicking in and Peter would become meaner than when he was when sober.

Here he came, storming at you, grabbing a clenched fistful of your hair at the scalp and dragging you to the window, stumbling, screaming and sobbing.

"Now. I'm going to make my pointless wish at this sexy elf on the shelf and then so will you! I can't say I wasted my money on it because it was free, some horseshit that freak at the store told me, saying the price tag is in the wishes, SO why not?...here goes nothing!"

"No, wait!...I....I changed my mind. I..I want to go first....please."

You never believed in this stuff, even though your mother and Sarah did. You and Sarah argued about it all the time and eventually, you just humored her and played along with the tarot cards and seance's for fun, but right then...you were willing to believe and be daring and brave, knowing what the consequences of your actions, or words you should say, would be after you blurted them out, and not by the price tag of karma, but by Peter.

"Alright. Go." he sarcastically agreed and pushed your head forward as he released your hair.

Your pent up anger rolled into rage and out of your mouth, as you stared into the elf's moonlit eyes, spewed words you had been aching to say out loud....and you knew, this night, you could die for it.

"My King, I wish for you to take me away from this awful place! And for all the times Peter has tortured me with spiders, I wish he would be dragged off by the Queen of all spiders, bloodied and screaming, deep into her dark cave and ripped limb from limb, leaving him alive long enough with his disgusting head attached to his torso so he can watch a dozen more spiders come and feast on the pieces and then I wish the Queen would drag his dismembered remains to her lair and spin him up in her web so he can be tortured for days, screaming in the dark as she snacks on him till his death!!"

Peter's eyes gaped as he gulped and then the rage that you knew would come...came.

"Brava!!" he shouted in a fury, clapping his hands as the Italian in him came out. "Tell me how you really feel Josephine! Well guess what? I wish that I will come back from the dead and haunt and torture you for the rest of your life!... Although that may not be very long..." he snarled and head butted you.

Down you went, to your hands and knees, stunned and almost blind as he knelt down and growled right in your face.

"There's no King coming! The only thing that's coming for you is my cock fucking you to death."

Peter grabbed the statue and hit you in the head once more, knocking you to your back, barely conscious and then he hoisted you up over his shoulder and carried you off into the bedroom, where for over an hour, he roughed you up... before, during and after having his forced way with you....and it was after this night that Peter began drugging you because the sadist realized the sex was much easier when you were practically limp and couldn't fight or talk back.

Crawling in tears of pain from the bed to the floor to find your clothes, you passed out and later awoke on Christmas morning with the sun blazing over your face and throbbing head, instantly crying once again from the pain, mostly below your waist and from also realizing you were still alive.

You stumbled in agony to your feet and gazed out the window to see the sun had melted most of the snow and the car was gone. What time was it??

After wrapping a robe around you, you crept out to the kitchen and sighed in relief when you saw Peter's coat and boots were gone too and you knew it was so the coward wouldn't have to look at you after what he did.

Knowing that you had a good amount of time to yourself, you showered, dressed, ate a donut and then remembered the elf figurine.

Gasping, you quickly hobbled to the living room to find it and sure enough, it was gone. It was real, wasn't it?? You couldn't have dreamed all of that, considering the huge knot on the side of your head from where Peter struck you with it.

You frantically began searching every corner of the cabin, even the basement that you dreaded going down to, but you came up empty handed. The creep had taken it after you wished him dead, you just knew it.

Crying ONCE AGAIN, you went back to your room and threw yourself on the bed, instantly regretting it as intense pain shot through every inch of you. As you laid there, sniffling in your snot, your eyes found the floor board where you had hid something special to you because you knew Peter would take it just as he had taken the statue. Luckily, he had never went through your bag that he had brought there when he kidnapped you, the bag you had pre-packed when you were going to leave him.

Slowly making your wincing way to the floor, you pried it open and pulled out the wooden box buried within the wooden box you were buried in. As you opened it, you smiled and sobbed some more to see the three items that belonged to Sarah, your best friend and neighbor who had disappeared into thin air on Halloween night 8 years ago.

Inside were her deck of tarot cards, a photo of the both of you, happy and twinning it at 14 years old, for you were both the same age, and her special ring, a silver ribbon ring she always wore, claiming it warded off magic spells placed upon the one who wore it. The day after she had vanished, her mother Jocelyn did too and you never saw her or Sarah again.

One night, after your sick father had fallen asleep, you snuck into their house through an unlocked window and went up to Sarah's room. That's when you found what looked like a shattered figurine all over the floor and in the shards, laid her ring. You had placed it inside her box on the dresser that had the photo and cards in it and took it for special keeping for when she came back, because you always believed she would....but she never did, nor did her mom. What you didn't know was of the special compartment the box held on the bottom and what was inside of it...until now.

As you were attempting to place the box back inside the floor board, your dropped it and the bottom popped open and out fell a beautiful amethyst pendant.

"What the??" you whispered and held it up by the chain, gazing into the purple crystal that had swirls of white clouds inside of it.

"Why would she hide it??" you asked yourself, completely and utterly confused.

You had never seen it before and she had shared everything with you. It must have been something of great importance, you figured. Maybe something personal or sentimental that she didn't want to share with anyone, not even you.

You stuffed it back in it's hiding place and the box too, then you decided to go outside for some sunlight and fresh air while you had the chance, and you took with you the battery powered boombox and cassette tape Peter had brought back to see what kind of music was on it.

Sitting on the picnic table out back, you slid the tape in and pushed play. The music began and it appeared to be some kind of country, bluegrassy, Irishy mix. It was all you had so it would have to do.

About 5 songs in and two glasses of Peter's whiskey drank down to help wash away your pain, you were completely caught off guard when a song came on that you knew. The same song you recalled the night before as you stared hopelessly out the window, dreaming of a King on a great white horse, for that was the name of the song.

You had sang it a lot as a child. Your mother was always singing it and it had stayed with you all through the years until now, but for it to just randomly pop up after you thought of it the night before, and after the wish you made to the porcelain elf, it was just too odd and it was all just too much.

"Why???? Why is this happening to me????.....Is anybody out there??!!" you screamed, so loud it burned your throat and then broke down into hysterical, uncontrollable sobs and blubbered the words as you tried to sing along.

"When I was a young girl I used to dream of a lover, to be my shining knight of strength one day. He'd carry me to a castle in the heavens and battle all my dragons on the way. And he'd ride down on a great white horse. He'd bring me love I was longing for. He'd bring me joy and everlasting peace and on a great white horse, he'd ride away with me."

"Josephine..." you heard in the wind and jumped to your wobbly feet.

"Josie! Josie...wake up!" you then heard, a voice echoing in your head. Legolas' sweet elven voice.

Was he really there or were you hearing him in your head again? You couldn't open your eyes, only mumble his name and when you did, you then felt yourself floating as Legolas lifted you from the cold stone floor...just like the night Thranduil found you in a similar state on the cold forest floor and carried you.

"Legolas?? What happened to her??" Lola frantically asked as the Prince gently laid you upon your bed.

"I do not know. Quickly, bring the healing water. Her skin is like fire."

Lola did as he asked and when she returned, she momentarily froze in her tracks with a hard dose of reality. Legolas was holding one of your hands and caressing your cheek with his other and the way he was looking at you spoke volumes of his undying love. It was as if no one else existed but you and Legolas proved it only seconds later.

"Legolas? I have the water and a cloth."

The worried and suddenly deaf elf did not hear a word Lola said as he continued stroking your cheek with a stare lost upon you.

"Legolas?? The water???"

"Huh?" he gasped and glanced at her and then took his eyes back to you.

"Would you rather I pat her with it so you do not have to remove your hands and eyes?"

Legolas certainly heard that. "I will tend to the Queen. You tend to the child as it is your duty is it not?" he snapped as held his hands out.

His words were cold and biting and Lola's eyes began to sting as she handed him the pitcher and cloth. She could hold her tongue no longer when Legolas aggressively took it from her.

"And you are appointed Josie's keeper? By whom? I am quite capable of looking after her as well as my DUTY of caring for Leean. I do believe the Queen has hired me, not you. I am the one who has always done it, never leaving her side, as you so easily did when she needed you."

Legolas' lips pursed as he turned to the bitter face matching the bitter words.

"By my father's rule...which... that is what he would wish, for she is his Queen and that makes her my Queen! And whom are you to speak to me that way, or to speak anything at all of the situation? I am Leeanduil's brother and godfather. I do not require employment or authority to care for either of them. You are merely nothing more than a servant and should mind your place and tongue if you wish to continue your duties as such."

"You did not seem to view me as merely a servant when your lips neared mine this evening! And now you threaten to remove me of my duties? And whom are YOU to do so? Josie retained my services, not you."

In a spitting image of his father, Legolas rose to his feet with rage and flared nostrils.

"I am the King! That is who I am to do so! Dare you ever question me again girl and consequences shall be suffered! Your jealous tirade is unwarranted and inappropriate and.."

"Leggy?" you grumbled as your eyes began to flutter.

His head whipped right to you as he immediately sat back at your side, abandoning the conversation with Lola...and Lola herself and continued to dab the wet cloth over your forehead which only infuriated her more.

"You are not MY King!" she barked, not caring if you heard her. "Lord Narcisse is and this is his castle. By all means, continue to pine for what shall never be yours while she pines for the one she truly loves. Unless you are a vampire named Garrett, which you most certainly are not, then it is you that shall suffer. I will leave you now to do MY duties."

Lola stormed out of the room in tears and the slamming of the door fully awoke both you and Leean.

"Yes, it is I my lady. I am here. I have not left you and I will never again."

"Leg...gy...my..my dream...I..I remember someth...." you paused with a flinched face as you noticed he was holding your injured hand a bit too tightly. "Owww!!"

"My lady?? What ails you?? Your hand?"

"Y..yes...it.."

Legolas' gasp cut you off. "It is bleeding clean through your glove!"

He carefully removed the lace covering and unraveled the makeshift bandage you had applied.

"Josie. This needs sewn up. Do not move while I locate a healer."

"NO!! Don't leave me! You said you wouldn't! I..I want you to do it. There is a thread and needle in the vanity drawer. The healing water will sterilize it."

"You...want me...a non healer...to stick a threaded needle through the tender skin of your palm??"

"Yes. I don't trust anyone here anymore. Give yourself more credit Legolas Greenleaf. Believe in yourself as I do."

He smiled at your kind words, but then frowned. "But..we have no pain reliever."

"Yes we do...hand me that carafe of wine. I will drink it down while you thread the needle."

The Prince's eyes gaped and then reluctantly did as you asked and while this was happening, Lola stood outside Narcisse's chamber door in full blown tears and sobs, vigorously knocking and receiving no answer.

"Daddy! Where are you??"

@redeemer46

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valiantroeagleangel · 4 months

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ITS ME AGAIN HELLO!! YES TAKE YOUR TIME AND ENJOY YOUR VISIT!!!

This is like SO self indulgent and also probably very silly but it was inspired by me watching the All Tall Things Must Come to An End series of behind the scenes clips <3 this will talk a little bit about weed so I hope that’s ok!! if not, im sorry and please feel free to ignore, but here you areee!!

So when I was watching, I was high HWVSJWNE and it seemed like there were definitely moments where they were high too, Vinny in particular LMAO. I’ve always loved this particular trope that involves being high and getting tickled. its MY EVERYTHING. Idea wise, Vinny and the Reader take edibles/smoke and are both chatting about the random thoughts that pop into their heads. Eventually, the reader gets a silly idea (we’ll say Vinny already knows she like being tickled to make life easier <3) she asks Vinny if she can talk about it for a second and he perks up excitedly. She explains she saw a post somehwere that said being high made you more ticklish. She pauses. He pauses. “So you want me to test it out don’t you?” She covers her face with her hands and nods. He smirks and takes the opportunity of her covering her eyes to strike. He’d probably start with her sides, skittering his fingers up and down. Lingering on her ribs when he notices her stronger reaction there. “You know, you can ask me to tickle you right?” She continues to giggle, not sure how to respond to his question. Of course she knows she can, but it always makes her so flustered. To her horror, he stop for a moment. He crosses his hands and grins. “Did you hear me?” She nods, “Oh ok so then you won’t mind me asking you to ask me for it right?” That smirk returns. He watches as the blush rises on her cheeks. He slowly walks his fingers up her thigh. “It’s so easy! You just have to say, ‘can you please tickle me Vinny,’ that’s it!” “But it’s haaaard” she whines playfully. Not wanting to give in this easily. He was prepared for that. “I can wait,” he says like a teacher awaiting a classroom of rambunctious students. She pouts, realizing she HAS to ask or else the precious tickles aren’t coming her way. Vinny watches in real time as she figures all of this out, pleased that he can make her feel this way. “Can you please.. do the thing?” She offers. He stares at her, “Do what thing?” He smirks again, feigning cluelessness as he giggles to himself. “Do I have to say it, you know what i mean!” She protests. “Come onnn you can say the word tickle, it’s not scary,” he watches as she almost winces at the word. “What does it make you flustered?” He asked, semi seriously. She blushes even more, meaning the answer is yes. “Well well well, thats exciting. I’ll keep that in mind.” She sighs, realizing there’s no getting out of this. It’s just a word! A dumb stupid word that is the key to getting her shit rocked. “Can you tickle me, pleaseee” she sing songs. Vinny nods, his hands suddeny meeting her tummy again. “See wasn’t that easy!” He teases. The reader just giggles in bliss the entire time. Of course she lowkey retaliates bc Vinny is like a little puppy I think he would vibe with getting tickled. He’d still protest and fight back a little bit, but internally he’d love every second. Which makes her all the more happy <3 Conclusion: yes it does make you more ticklish and they keep that in mind for later <3

Part of me also wants to include that the reader or maybe vinny is not super ticklish usually. The weed just makes them more open and so the tickly feelings get to them a lot more. Which is so amazing for them <3.

OK THATS MY SILLY IDEA THANK YOU I HOPE IT WAS FUN HEHEH THATS WHAT IVE GOT FOR RIGHT NOW, PLUS I HAVENT WRITTEN IN Y E A R S BUT!!! It’s the concept that counts HEHE OK BYEEEE

- 😽👻

OMG YES YOU AGAIN. HELLO BABE, TAKE A SIT. LET'S CHAT FOR A BIT.

Because please- I love this! I WANT VINNY TO TICKLE ME WHEN I'M HIGH. I haven't SmOkEd in years but this is now a new need in my life. Thanks. Getting high with that dude must be the best thing in the world. Don't ask me why, I don't know. I just have that feeling you know. Makes my heart ache.

Like- it must be so peaceful and yet so funny and full of love and AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH.

But babe I love your silly ideas and HC honestly. You're getting me real good with your tickling visions. 🫠🫠

THANK YOU FOR THAT ONE. <3

#just inbox stuff #valiant's inbox #valiant's requests #😽👻 sweet anon #vinny mauro #headcanon #motionless in white #fanfic #chenzo mauro #headcanons

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a-tale-of-legends · 11 months

Text

Death Scythe

Summary: Jude goes out to handle some TLH grunts on his own. It's harder than expected.

Notes: 1) Not sure if the robots are canon to TLH but I needed something for Jude to use a scythe on something that wasn't human and 2) The italics scenes that happened in the past! So Jude's pronouns change with each scene( reminder that Jude uses they/she/he pronouns and is genderfluid)! And 3) This probably takes place before Jude and Dante get together, but it can be ready ambiguously I guess.

TW: For blood! Nothing graphic, just a heads up.

And of course, I hope y'all enjoy the story!

~~~~~~~~

The most interesting things happen at night. Why wouldn't it? The darkness hides bodies, the quietness silences voices. All under the comfort- or mocking- of the moon.

The most interesting things happen at night. Jude is no exception.

She was done before she knew it, her body already sore from the match. Aiko towers over her, with a cheeky smile on her face. Jude doesn't have the energy to wipe it off.

" I win! Again," she teases, knowing it hurts Jude's pride. Jude rolls her eyes, still too tired to get up.

" You're supposed to be helping me here." she mutters, " Not boasting your victory,"

" I am helping!" Aiko huffs, coaching down to meet Jude's level, " You just suck at welding a staff,"

"Very helpful," Jude says dryly, causing Aiko to chuckle.

Jude Bellrose doesn't consider himself a vigilante. That's more so Dante and Emma. Jude doesn’t consider themself a hero either, though many would disagree with them. Jude is a Champion. This is just part of the job. And 'the job' just so happens to be TLH. Joy.

Jude watches from above, watching some grunts wander about. He has to thank Shauna for giving him the location of these guys as soon as she scouted them out. He left without another thought, even without his coat. Being mildly cold is a small con to what if greater stealth. Either the grunts know he's there and haven't done anything- which is dumb- or they haven't noticed him yet. Also dumb, but who is he to complain on free stealth.

Jude focuses on the grunts below, calling his aura to sense them. His heart sinks when he does. He only senses two auras of the entire group. The rest do not have any. They are not human. They are robots. TLH has robots. Fuck.

"Okay, okay, actual advice time," Aiko says after another day of sparring. Another day of Jude getting their ass beat. She sets herself into position, holding her bo staff with both of her hands.

" I was trained by the kimono girls in movement. To be graceful and precise," She twirls her bo staff, moving along with it, as if she was dancing with it, " Uncle Chuck taught her about strength, durability. Knowing how to dominate and overpower" just as quickly as she dances, Aiko slams her staff on the ground. There's a dent where it lands. Jude is grateful that they weren't at the end of it.

" So….."

"Hold on, I'm getting to it!" She sighs, setting her staff straight, " From both experiences, I learned two things! Number one! Balance is key!" Aiko slams her staff on the ground, which probably makes her feel like some sagely monk.

" Figuring out and maintaining the balance of the two styles I've been taught has helped me a lot! And even outside of that, when wielding a staff, it's not as linear as swinging a sword. Your whole body has to play in your movement!"

Jude nods their head, starting to understand Aiko’s words. Looking back, Jude never tried wielding the staff Aiko lent them with their body in mind. They always assumed the staff went for hitting, and used it as such. Though, in their defense, they’ve never seen Aiko use it another way either.

“ Number two!” Aiko yells, causing Jude snap out of their thoughts and wince at how loud Aiko is, “ Your weapon isn’t just something you wave around to look cool!” Jude gives Aiko a raised brow, but it seems like AIko just ignores it.

“ Your weapon is an extension of yourself! This may sound silly, but you have to work in sync with it to truly bring out your strength! Think of it like pokemon battling, without the pokemon! Or-”

“ Like using aura,” Jude says before they realize it. AIko blinks, before giving Jude a huge grin.

“ Yeah. Like using aura,”

Not only are these things robots, but they’re superpowered too. Jude doesn’t dare think of the implications. Not now.

Jude dodges out of the way of another attack, slashing down a robot when another one lunges at him, its hands turning into claws, ready to tear into Jude’s skin. Jude barely manages to dodge it, its claws grazing his side, causing Jude to hiss. It’s only now that Jude wishes he told someone about going out to confront these “ grunts”. Jude huffs, as he uses his scythe to block another attack, now getting a better look at the robot grunts he’s facing. They have no face. At least, none considering what would be their face seemed to be completely covered with a mask. Specks of color come through the otherwise ink black mask- a nod to Necrozma. Again, Jude does not want to think about the implications.

….He hopes Kenji is okay.

Realizing he can’t be at a stalemate forever, Jude twirls his scythe, effectively shaking the robot off him. He then slashes down, but the robot is just too quick. Way too quick. Jude doesn’t get to react when another robot attacks him from his side. It draws blood. A lot more blood than Jude was expecting.

Jude has improved. Aiko told him as such. He feels it too, even being able to move up to his scythe when sparring with Aiko. Though despite his efforts, Jude was never able to best her. And while it hurts his pride, he isn’t too mad about it. He’s been using his scythe more frequently because of her anyhow. Now the two simply relax on the floor, resting after another sparring match which Aiko won. Again.

“ Do you think he’s okay?” Aiko asks suddenly, her voice quieter than it was before. Jude swallow’s , not needing any clarification to who “he” is.

“ I don’t know,” he says truthfully, “ I lost connection with him. I don’t know how he’s holding up,” . Jude feels a sudden, but not unfamiliar, wave of guilt wash over him.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. And he is. He should have stopped Kenji when he had the chance. He shouldn’t have given him the go to act as double agent. Now they don’t even know if he’s alive. Especially after the last confrontation.

The silence was painful. Jude’s guilt was no longer a wave, but a storm, constantly crashing into him to the point where it makes him feel sick. He opens his mouth again, to apologize once more, to get this sick feeling off of him-

“ When we find their base,” Aiko starts, her voice deep and written with rage, “ I am going to kick every single TLH ass there is. I’m going to get Kenji back,” Anger and determination. A dangerous combination. Jude should know. They’ve experienced it for years.

“ You have my full support,” Jude says, still feeling sick. He gives Aiko a small smile anyway. Aiko laughs, etched in sadness and anger.

“ Thanks,” she gets up, now a small spark in her eye, “ Care for another match?”

Jude has mixed feelings about his powers. Having the power over death when he has witnessed his own pokemon die feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. He doesn’t feel great about draining the energy of living things to his own benefit. But he would be lying if the power of it all wasn’t useful. Like now. As his scythe sends a slicing wave of energy that cuts through the bodies of the robots before him. He tries to ignore the pain on his side as he focuses on the remaining robots- fuck why is there so many-twirling his scythe defensively as numerous claws come slashing at him.

Pride be damned, he'd be the first to admit he's not the most skilled fighter compared to the rest. He much prefers being the guy in the chair, making sure everything stays a float. But Jude knows he would hate himself more if he just stood back and did nothing. He's not making that mistake again.

Dodge, slash, and weave- this fight has finally found its rhythm. If he didn't have his powers, he most likely would have been dead now, his wound being too serious to ignore. It's still a pain in the ass though, having to move so much with it.

A dark thought enters his mind. He wishes the robots were human. He wishes, for one cruel second, that they were mere mortals that he can drain the life out of, and have this fight be over with. It scares him. It scares him beyond belief. For one cruel second, Jude don't see the robots as robots, but as humans. Humans with weapons that he's cutting down as if they were nothing. For one cruel second, Jude sees himself as a killer. It shakes him to his core.

For one cruel second, Jude's guard is down once more. More blood is drawn from the claws of the hu- robots. Jude suddenly starts to feel numb. Shit.

Jude swings again, sloppily,barely missing as the robots spread out. This is getting annoying. He really should have called for backup, Arceus.

Jude Bellrose, hardly able to keep standing, readies himself to attack. Wound be damned, he's going to finish what he started. He gets ready to lung and-

An arrow shoots directly through one of the robots head, and it drops to the ground without a hitch. Then another. And another. Jude takes the opportunity to slice the last one down himself, in the midst of the robot's confusion. He hates how he suddenly feels sick. He hopes it's just the bleeding getting to him.

When he looks up, he sees Dante in the position that he was in before dropping down with the ambush. A bow and arrow are in his hands, both of which clow a multicolored hue, much like the antlers of Xerneas herself. The colors of the bow and arrow along side the glow of the moon makes Dante's eyes shine greater, almost ethereal. It's beautiful really.

….The bleeding is getting to him. Now's not the time.

Dante jumps down from his marksman point, and quickly rushes to Jude's side. It's now that with Dante so close, Jude can properly see the heated glare that Dante was giving him. Ah. He's mad.

" You fucking idiot," his hisses, placing a hand over the wound on Jude's side, a faint glow coming from his. Jude feels a cool wave wash over him, the pain slowly subsiding.

" Hello to you too," Jude drawls, starting to get tired,as the adrenaline from before is fading away.

" Don't give me that. What were you thinking ?"

" I wasn't," Jude says honestly, too tired to start up their usual banter, " Shaunee said there was TLH grunts here and I just went for it. Didn't think about backup,".

" Clearly," Dante grumbled, moving his hand to another wound,his frown deepening, " We need to get you back home, stat,"

Jude winces as Dante brings his arm over his shoulder, making Jude lean on him. The tiredness almost takes over, Jude leaning into Dante's warmth.

"Don't fall asleep," Dante says pointedly, but the worry in his voice is overwhelming.

" Oh please, I'm the Chosen One of death. Yveltal gave a soft spot for me-"

" I mean it Jude," Dante looks at Jude with desperation, something Jude wasn't expecting to see. He hopes the darkness of the night helps hides his blush, as he looks away.

" Alright, alright….sorry,"

Dante sighs, shaking his head slightly.

" It's alright. Let's just get you out of here,"

Jude grunts in agreement, letting Dante carry him off back home. He tries not to fall asleep, for Dante's sake, letting his mind wander.

Before he knows it, he's home, bandaged up and given strict orders from Dante to stay in bed and rest. Too tired to argue, he agrees.

As he lays in bed and finally given the chance to sleep, he thinks about Aiko. Would she laugh at him for getting so reckless? " Being reckless is my thing, dummy," she would say, before scolding Jude about doing something so dangerous.

Jude smiles to himself, lulling himself to a dreamless slumber.

#legendverse #r writes #oc: jude bellrose #the legendary hunters #if there's any other tw I should add pls let me know!#this is my first time attempting to write solid action I hope i did okay!#and i hope you all enjoyed reading!

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silentsundown · 11 months

Text

It was good to finally see Dylan in person after this couple of months. Christie was thrilled to see Aiganym again, especially since she had brought something she really liked.

The house seemed quite fantastic to her. It looked modern, but not to the point of offending her taste. In a sense, it was very much Dylan's place. He could really be himself here.

Of course, this was a good opportunity to catch up with the little girl. Christie told Aiganym about her good grades, a new friend she had made, and about wanting to visit her mother during the holidays. Dylan was watching the conversation with a warm heart: although Christie could get along with kids her age, she always seemed to be more comfortable with older people and to prefer interacting with them rather than other kids. With Aiganym, at least, or even her parents, she could discuss topics that her peers didn't necessarily understand, but that she was starting to grasp.

After enjoying a slice of this nicely made chocolate pie (the Aiganym Kudaibergenova way, of course, not anyone else's), Dylan sat to his computer. Aiganym handed him the USB key. Christie went to draw pictures in her room.

"I'm kind of scared of what I could find inside", he said. "I hope this isn't going to be some really horrid experiment."

"Me neither, but we've got to do it regardless. We need to know what's inside…"

"The encryption doesn't look too complicated. Not for my level at least. I've seen worse than this. I just hope this isn't going to give me a virus."

"Haven't you made a virus for a client once though?"

"I did, but that still doesn't mean I'd like my own computer to be infected" he chuckled.

"That'd be kind of silly, yeah."

"Duh. Of course. I'm not an idiot."

But as the minutes passed, Dylan realized he completely underestimated the encryption of that drive. It looked simple at first, but was deceptive: one layer of encryption hid just another, which was harder than the first. He was struggling to find a way to get around it. His body was getting tenser: what if he was too dumb to understand how to do it? What if all those skills were just in his head and he was simply a poser? What if his lack of master-level knowledge, despite fairly good programming skills, would cause harm to his friend ultimately? What if he was simply an impostor?

"FUCK!" he suddenly let out, smashing his fist on the desk, in a fit of rare rage.

Aiganym jumped.

"Are you okay?"

"The damn thing is so frustrating. I didn't think it'd be so hard."

"Hey, you know, if you don't manage to do it, I won't be mad at you…"

Christie came out of her room with a puzzled look on her face.

"Daddy? Are you alright? You said a very bad word."

"Yes, sweetie. I'm just getting a bit frustrated with that… silly USB drive."

He really wanted to say "gosh-fucking-darned", but no, not in front of the kids.

"But you're good at doing things with computers, right? You can do it."

"Yeah, but sometimes it's just harder than you expect…"

"Coffee?" Christie suggested.

"No sweetie, it's going to make me more nervous."

Dylan sighed. He hated, hated any kind of circumstance that brought him back to this feeling of just being incompetent, of having made up his skills, of just being a piece of dogshit coated with gold or silver.

Ultimately, it's still dogshit. It may not smell of dogshit anymore, nor look like dogshit, but it's still a piece of dogshit. That included challenges that turned out to be harder than what he had imagined.

Aiganym glanced at him with a feeling look, then went up to Christie, who had sat on the couch.

"How about you show me your plants outside?" she said to the little girl. "I think your dad needs a bit of space."

"Oh yeah, sure! I've followed aaaall your advice when it comes to planting things."

"What have you planted?"

"Tulips and raspberries!"

"Oh, I love raspberry jam..."

"Blueberries are tastier though!"

⚛ 》》》 ◆ 《《《 ⚛ 》》》 ◆ 《《《 ⚛

Previous ~ Chronological ~ Next

#dogshit #:D #strangerville storyline #ts4 strangerville #strangerville #ts4 story #ts4 storytelling #aiganym kudaibergenova #christie sigworth #dylan sigworth #ts4 #simblr #ts4 simblr #I'M BACK AT IT #YEAHHH #i get dylan though #i feel the exact same as him when things don't come easily to me

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desmondkane-of-ao3-fame · 2 years

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Skarlow…at grom? As grom queens themselves?!?

I can't believe I never thought about them as like, Grom queens. Obviously, they'd go to Grom together, but the idea of either being Grom queen never occurred to me for some reason. So, here's what I think would happen.

It would be Willow who'd be recommended as Grom Queen: She's the strongest Witch in school, leads the newest sports team to a tournament win, and was one of the key members of the resistance against Belos. Of COURSE she'd be the best option to fight Grom! So Bump makes the call over the loudspeakers. And Willow starts out actually really excited. She's honestly been considered to be good enough to fight freaking GROM, of all things! She's ecstatic! And so's Skara! She's so proud of her Petals. She can't help but brag about dating the world's best Grom Queen (she and Luz debate about that a little, of course, but they eventually agree to call it a draw). And the Entrails are happy about it too. Until Hunter asks what Willow's biggest fear is, reminding Willow of the actual thing she has to do. And so, Willow has to recon with thinking about what, to Grom anyway, would constitute her greatest fear. She's afraid of ladybugs, sure, but will that be what Grom uses? That's such a stupid and silly fear to use, really. BUT WHAT IF GROM DOES USE IT!?!? Still, she tries to keep her head high, and with Skara and her friends rooting for her, Willow feels ready for anything Grom can throw.

Skara helps Willow train, trying to throw all Willow's biggest fears Grom can use against her: Ladybugs, Boscha, bones, bats, other b-words. Everything Grom could conceivably use, Skara helped Willow train against, trying to help her girlfriend gain the necessary courage needed to beat the demon back into the depths of Hexside. And right before the two entered the gymnasium, Skara gave Willow a 'good-luck-not-that-you-need-it' kiss! Now, Willow's ready to take on just about anything! So she hopes, anyway.

As Willow steps into the gym, the floor opens up, and she descends down the steps into Grom’s domain. She starts the fight off strong: she smashes through ladybugs, crushes a collection of living bones, and is able to snuff out an army of bats. It’s all going well, and the school cheer’s her on, most of all Skara, borrowing Luz’s pom-pom’s and everything. But it’s as Willow turns to look up at her cheerleading girlfriend that Grom pulls out his ace in the hole: when Willow looks back, Grom’s transformed into Boscha (the real Boscha, coincidentally, did not come to Grom that year, saying it was stupid and dumb and how dumb it was that Willow was Grom queen). Willow just charges onward... only to be tripped by Skara.

Willow tries to get up, only to be knocked down by ‘Skara’. They start to mock her, about how stupid she was for trusting her, that ‘Skara’ was always going to leave her and be back to Boscha’s bestie. ‘Skara’ summons up a guitar and uses it’s soundwaves to smash Willow into the wall. As Willow struggles back onto her feet, ‘Boscha’ throws a fireball, reiterating the same point as ‘Skara’: that her girlfriends going to go back to bullying Willow, and Willow’s stupid for putting faith into her. Willow knows they’re stupid, and not real, and that she should ignore them... so why does it hurt so much?

Skara, up above, is stunned, unsure what to do: Amity helped Luz, right, so there doesn’t need to just be one person fighting Grom right? As the idea crosses her mind, she spots the sword fallen onto the ground where Willow was shot back by Boscha. Without a second thought, she drops her pom-pom’s and divebombs into Grom’s lair, grabbing the sword and slashing down ‘Boscha’ in one swift, badarse motion (she’s a bit disappointed Willow didn’t see it honestly). She rushes to strike down ‘Skara,’ only to be thrown to the side by a tentacle. Skara picks herself up, but gets attacked by ‘Skara’ yet again. It tries to get into Skara’s head, but Willow is able to break ensnare ‘Skara’ in vines. Skara collects herself a second before playing a song that shakes the vines so rapidly Grom explodes inside it. As the remains of Grom slink off, the school cheers on as it’s two newest queens are crowned.

After the fight, though, Skara and Willow walk out to talk about what exactly just happened. Willow admits that she was worried that her biggest fear was, indeed, Skara becoming a bully again. And Skara admits that the reason Grom didn’t change after it started fighting her was because, honestly, that’s Skara’s biggest fear: that she’ll hurt Willow again. Before Skara can offer an apology, though, Willow wraps an arm around Skara, kissing the top of her head, and telling her that she knows Skara well enough to know that, in reality, she won’t ever hurt her again. She’s just grateful that Skara’s ok and safe after their fight. So, Skara and Willow return to the dance, and spend the rest of the night as adorable, lovable Grom Queens.

#skarlow #theowlhouse #THE OWL HOUSE #skara toh #willow park

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memryse · 3 years

Text

many thoughts about Scar in Last Life

We all know Scar is one of the standouts of Last Life; he’s always been one of the key players ever since 3rd Life, driving conflicts and shaping the course of the server. His chaotic nature lends itself perfectly to 3rd/Last Life, and he seems to have only refined it in the hiatus between seasons.

In 3rd Life, Scar was more of a subjective villain. From his own perspective and Grian’s perspective, he wasn’t scary at all! The two of them were just having fun and causing problems – sure, they threatened people, but their dumb antics together made them just feel like two friends messing around; their POV was lighthearted until the final session, really. From other perspectives, however (particularly Dogwarts’ POVs), that was not how the two of them came across. They felt malicious, scary in how casually they approached such a bloodthirsty game. They’d laugh as they took lives, showing no care for anybody but themselves – they’d betray their allies in a heartbeat without an ounce of remorse, and the rest of the players knew it. Scar wasn’t someone to fear from his own POV.

Since Last Life began, however, Scar has become very openly malicious. Even watching his own POV, it’s hard to see him as anything but a villain – his own comment section is full of people commenting on how scary he suddenly seems. I want to expand on some of these villainous moments, because holy fuck, Scar.

In session 1, Scar is certainly a prominent figure, but we mostly get to see his classic silly Scar antics. Sure, he plans on “selling souls”, but it feels like the equivalent of his reputation points in S1. We still don’t get the sense of him going full villain arc yet. He allies with Joel and commits a crime, and we all expect another lighthearted Scar scam which definitely does not go to plan.

And that is what happened… sort of. He’s immediately caught by Scott and Pearl, etc etc etc. The two of them cheerfully agree a scheme to try and kill Jimmy, but that casual discussion of murder is as bad as they get.

Session 2, Scar is chosen as one of the two boogeymen, alongside Joel.

Things go decidedly not to plan immediately. The two of them had agreed last session to try and kill Jimmy, and were supposed to be trusting enough to tell each other if they’re the boogeyman – and yet what does Scar do? Immediately try and push Joel into lava. He’d betray Joel without a second thought – already a contrast to 3rdLife, where upon turning red Scar threw flowers at Grian and asked if they could still be friends. He doesn’t succeed, of course, and Scar and Joel realise they’re both boogeymen, before parting ways.

Scar heads to the nether, where he immediately decides to deceive Etho and Bdubs into thinking he’s weak and has no food, so that he can get close to them nonthreateningly or something. I’ll talk about this more later, but here we get to see what a good liar Scar actually is. People want to assume that he’s all bark and no bite, that he’s a schemer who poses no real threat – when Scar plays into this, he can be reallyconvincing.

The next big moment I want to talk about is, of course, Joel’s trap. The first thing to comment on here is that Scar cries “Joel, are you trying to kill your best buddy?!”, and I can’t work out whether this is Scar acting to diffuse suspicion, or genuine surprise that he’d pull the trap when Scar was right there, but either way it definitely has the former effect. None of the Southlanders suspect Scar in the slightest. Until Scar murders Mumbo in a matter of seconds.

What’s really horrifying about this is that Scar had been begging Mumbo to ally with him just last session. And yet here… not only does he go for Mumbo without hesitation, his reaction afterwards is downright chilling. He just laughs, and tells the others “Welcome to Magical Mountain!” – it’s really quite like a movie villain in how little he seems to care. He doesn’t actually say a word about killing Mumbo; again, despite having desperately wanted to ally with him. To Scar, this was nothing more than an opportunity. Or maybe it’s all a show to him. Maybe it’s both. Scar doesn’t actually care about winning this game – to him, it’s more fun to put on as good a show as possible, and drag as many people down with him as possible (which is definitely a “cc!Scar being a good entertainer” thing, but it translates very well into being a LL!Scar character trait too).

He then hands Joel some supplies, and with the exact same level of nonchalance, tells him to go burn Scott and Pearl’s house down. I’m… getting the sense he enjoyed burning down Etho’s castle in 3rdLife.

Not much of note happens during his subsequent conversation with the Southlanders beyond him failing an initiation spectacularly – after this, he heads back to Joel. They chat from opposite ends of a broken bridge, which is quite a poetic scene honestly, representing the gap between their lives, the destruction of their alliance, etc. I’m just here to talk about Scar’s villainous moments, though, so let me point out one specific line from this conversation.

“I did avenge you, to be fair - Mumbo, I burned him to death, which was enjoyable. I heard him cry, so it was- yeah, that was a thing.”

Just… what the fuck, Scar? What? I know he tried to push the “red lives are psychopathic and feel nothing except a small sense of happiness when people die” in 3rd Life, but this was definitely a lie or at least an exaggeration, because 3l!Scar definitely had a much wider range of emotions than that. Either way, here he doesn’t even have the excuse of being a red life; this is just active malice, pure and simple. Bdubs had a similar level of pride in his boogeyman kill, but I never got the sense that he enjoyed it like Scar did.

Scar goes off to visit Scott and Pearl, and figure out whether they have the enchanting table or not. Note the emphasis on simply figuring it out, not actually getting the enchanting table. Here’s where I want to talk about Scar being a great liar: he fully convinces them into thinking that he was willing to trade lives for the enchanting table, and then he convinces them that he’s so desperate to get the table that he’ll lie about Joel burning their house down. The thing is, Scar had no intention of ever getting the table at that moment – he wasn’t going to trade lives for it to begin with. He’d try his luck at threatening them, but nothing more. He got exactly what he wanted out of that situation: proof. Meanwhile, Scott and Pearl were left believing they’d outwitted him, that they’d called his bluff and bullied him into leaving. They never saw his true intentions, never saw him as an actual threat. Scar is much smarter than people believe, which only makes him all the more threatening.

And finally, he goes on to prove this intelligence even further. He figures out that Scott and Pearl planned to trade for the enchanting table simply by seeing Scott ask Lizzie if she’s home in chat. He then goes to visit Lizzie, and she tells him she declined their offer. What’s notable about this scene is how much less belligerent Scar is than usual: he readily accepts what Lizzie says for once in his life and leaves without being too annoying about it. He later talks about lulling the others into a false sense of security, letting them think he’s not after the enchanting table anymore; that makes me think his visit to Lizzie was purely to confirm that the offer was even made, and he’s now certain that she accepted it. It’s not hard to work out, especially if he noticed her life count.

So, all in all, if you’re not scared of Scar in Last Life, you most definitely should be.

Did I forget to mention he’s currently tied for the highest life count on the server?

#last life smp #goodtimeswithscar #smallishbeans #mumbo jumbo #ldshadowlady #scott smajor #pearlescentmoon #bdoubleo100 #ethoslab #(all tagged are discussed in the post)#mae analyses

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gabzlovesu · 2 years

Text

POLAR OPPOSITES

jean x reader x ukai

warnings: unprotected sex, threesome -> double penetration, degradation kink, praise kink, rough sex (eg. choking, hair pulling, spanking, etc.), reader called ‘bunny’ and ‘slut’, saliva, butt play thumb in bootyhole action lmao

a/n: i received this ask from the lovely @druighoney and here is the final production, enjoy you filthy whores.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ♡ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

Pain and pleasure. Fast and slow. Praise and degradation. Jean and Ukai were polar opposites and you’re sandwiched in the middle of their drastically different personas.

“You’re doing so well for us, bunny.” Jean, was ever so gentle with you. His low voice sends a never-ending stream of praises to your ears that makes your heart flutter with every word, while his hands gently cup your face as if you’d shatter like precious glass if he lets go. Even though your eyes are screwed tight, trying to maintain the last bit of sanity you had as they ravage your burning core, he takes in the beautiful features of your face.

“Bunny? I think slut is more fitting,” one of Ukai’s hands that were tightly gripping your hips comes down harshly against your plush ass, and he watches in awe at how it ripples from the sudden contact. Ukai was rough with you. Instead of praises and soft kisses, he delivered harsh words in an attempt to hurt you, though they only made the fire in the pit of your belly grow more. There were no gentle touches between you two: choking, slapping, gripping — everything was rough, like his unique personality.

You whine against Jean’s lips, struggling to put your words together. You wanted to say how much you need him, both of them, and how good they made you feel in their separate ways.

“See, she’s just a dumb slut. Look at her begging for more when she’s already stuffed full.” His fingers entangle themselves in a handful of your hair; he snatches you away from Jean as if he was dissatisfied with how he treated you. Flushing your back full of marks against his chest, his warm breath fans against the shell of your ear, “Go ahead. Tell him how filthy you are, baby. Or would you rather show him?”

Jean just watches in silence, secretly turned on as he watches Ukai force two long fingers into your mouth when you fail to give him a response. Ukai pries your mouth open and pulls your head back even more to gift you a glob of spit. “Hold it.”

You can feel Ukai gradually increase his tempo and force like his death grip on you wasn’t enough already. Everything is causing you to spiral into madness. “KEI,” is all you manage to get out before you close your mouth once again, fearing that you’ll let the spit fall down onto Jean beneath you.

But Jean’s there to pull you back to earth. “Such a good girl. So pretty, baby.” His hands work their way up to your breasts, kneading the soft tissue as he continues to thrust up into your weeping cunt.

“Pretty,” you mumble back like your ears deceived you and look down at him. Your face is a sloppy mess with drool rolling down your chin, but it’s quickly wiped away with Jean’s hand.

You can sense Ukai’s annoyance and you hear a low growl emit from him just as he pushes you down against Jean. “Go ahead and kiss him, I know you want to.” He would never admit to being aroused by the fact that you would be mixing his spit with the other man.

He was right. You did crave Jean’s lips and you give him a look like you were asking for permission. It was silly. You knew you didn’t need permission, yet here you were pleading with your eyes as he strokes your puffy lips with his thumb. He finally closes the wide chasm, willingly accepting the warm spit and swirling it around as your tongues danced in the hollowed-out cavern.

“Look at that, two nasty whores.” You can practically hear the grin in Ukai’s voice as he degrades the both of you, although Jean seems to be unbothered by it. “Let’s see what else our little slut likes.” He spits once more, but this time it’s on your puckered hole that had yet to be filled. After taking a second to admire how your tight pussy stretched to accommodate both of their large cocks, he plugs you with his thumb.

“Ah ~ Kei please,” you beg, breaking away from Jean’s lips. You start muttering about how it’s too much and they’re too big, only for it to fall on deaf ears — Ukai knows you can handle it, you were just trying to run from it.

Though what’s really shocking, is Jean spreading your cheeks, allowing more access for both of them. You feel betrayed. You thought he was on your side and going to take things easy on you; when you look at him with wide eyes he automatically knows your thoughts and tries to ease your mind, “Relax bunny, you can take it. Right?”

“Maybe this will help.” Jean’s hand snakes down between your bodies and rubs soothing, yet electrifying circles into your sensitive bud, “That feels good, yeah?”

You give a slight nod as your arms grow weak and shake like jelly, breath hitching with every snap of their hips. The way Jean rubs your clit and how their cocks drag along your walls at two different paces is sending your brain into a neural overload. And then you finally come crashing down from the pleasure while Jean retracts his now soaked fingers.

“You feel so good, baby. Want me to cum inside?” His hand returns to your face, beckoning a response even though you’re so out of it that you can’t even keep your eyes from rolling back.

“Y-yes, please. Jean, I need it.”

“All you know how to do is beg, you’re such a needy slut. Couldn’t even finish giving me head because you were choking and crying on my cock about how you wanted us to fuck you.” Another stinging blow lands against your ass, causing you to scream out in twisted pleasure.

Jean’s face is flushed with heat and his eyebrows are knitted together as he chases his release “Hurry the hell up, or I’ll come down there and fuck her by myself.” Yet no one notices how Ukai’s cheeks are also painted cherry red because he buries his face into the warm crook of your neck.

Moments later, Jean’s hips falter with sloppy thrusts until they still, filling the little space your pussy had to offer with his cum only for it to dribble down to coat his sex.

The intoxicating sensation of your gummy walls and the combined juices of you and Jean sloshing as Ukai plunged into you were enough to finally throw him over the edge of his release.

You flop back down onto Jean, becoming lifeless while he uses the little strength he’s left to rub small circles on your back.

“Don’t get comfortable, we’re not done.”

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓? 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

taglist: @angwritez @misss-chrisss @hungrynessforfics @dejwrites @rinhoes @iloveitblackbhna @protectpancakes @presidentmonica @tokyotwink @nneedynymph @sintiva@indiecursor @po3ticb3auty @nanaminshousewife @rxxicole @gemimaya @thenerdyrebel @pixiikitty @dabilovesme @seyawrld @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @ar1nat0rs @picayunne @kurtaclangobrr @kookieflvr @woahajime @druighoney @syomi @chrolloderulo @vivisspamm @sukosie @erentoes @kutosznn @queenmjp @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @yeagerfushiguro @r1nf4iry @sakurashell @38riku @tonaken @korathefairy

#೫˚ — rated m #jean x reader x ukai #jean kirstein x reader #ukai x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #ukai keishin #keishin ukai #polyamourous #aot #snk #haikyuu #crossover

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kythed · 3 years

Text

“pillow talk” - a collection of conversations between you and matsukawa issei.

1. october 23rd, 1:03am.

“that was fun.” matsukawa props himself up on one elbow, lower half still covered by a disarray of blue dorm sheets.

you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling your t-shirt back on, but you turn to look at him, smiling slightly. “fun?”

“great. excellent. out of this world amazing,” he says teasingly. there’s a glint in his eye and a flush in his cheeks.

“that’s what I thought.” you make to stand up, but matsukawa grabs your wrist before you can move another muscle.

“you can stay,” he says, face strangely hopeful and childlike (a sharp contrast to the night’s earlier… activities). “if you want, I mean.”

your body aches to climb back under the covers with him, to press yourself against his hot skin and let yourself fall asleep in his embrace… but what you have with matsukawa is new and fragile, and you refuse to close your fist on something delicate and shatter it in the process.

“maybe next time. I have class in the morning.” advanced calculus, to be specific. hell on earth, to be even more specific.

“will there be a next time?” there it is again. that hope.

“if you’ll have me,” you say, rising from the mattress.

“I’ll do more than have you.” he grins, cocking his head. “I’ll take you.”

and there it is — matsukawa issei, ladies and gents. you smile to yourself as you slip out of his room, committing the feel of his hands gripping your hips and his lips on yours to memory.

2. october 27th, 4:36pm.

you stay this time. it’s a weeknight, and there’s class in the morning again, but the bed is warm and matsukawa’s arm fits like it was made for you. he’s nervous, you can tell, what with the way his fingers shake slightly as they brush the hair from your eyes — but that’s okay. it’s endearing. cute, even.

“hey,” he says, voice low and throaty.

“hi,” you respond, turning your face to look at him, his sharp, angular face shaded even more dramatic by moonlight. he really is a little too pretty for his own good, you decide, running a light hand down his torso. his mouth twitches when your fingers skim over his waistband and back up again.

“tease,” he sighs, and you laugh.

“it’s what I’m best at,” you say.

“among other things,” matsukawa concedes, grinning. you gasp and hit him lightly on the chest.

“you’re so dirty minded!” you scold, and he scoffs.

“I’m the dirty minded one? listen sweetheart, twenty minutes ago you were —”

you shut him up with a swift kiss on the lips, swallowing his indignant words as he chuckles somewhere in the back of his throat and pulls you on top of him. you slide your fingers into his mess of dark hair and smile into the kiss until he finally breaks away and begins dusting smaller kisses along your jaw and collarbone.

“you know,” you breathe, trying to avoid gasping when matsukawa presses his mouth to that soft spot right below your neck, “you’re acting awfully boyfriend today, issei. you’d better be careful before I up and decide to make you mine.”

“maybe that’s what I want you do to,” he says without looking at you.

you start in surprise, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “oh, really?”

matsukawa unattaches himself from your neck and takes your face in his hands, staring up at you with a grin. “really.”

“okay,” you say, and in response he squishes your cheeks and laughs. you roll your eyes and tug on his wrists until he lets go. “okay, boyfriend.”

“okay, girlfriend.”

you’d never anticipated a relationship to fall into place so easily. but then again, with matsukawa, everything — everything from his sweet talk to his skin to his stupid pickup lines — is pretty damn smooth.

3. january 1st, 11:24pm.

“you have a nice nose,” he says, running a finger down its bridge. golden afternoon light slices through the gaps in his shutters, casting odd stripes across his face.

“I hate my nose.” you bite back a sheepish smile. “it’s weird.”

“no, it’s cute,” he insists, and despite yourself, your heart swells. maybe it’s silly, maybe it’s shallow, but nothing really beats having someone refute your insecurities, however insignificant they may be. “I’m the one with a weird nose.”

you sit straight up, nearly knocking him back. “you do not have a weird nose. I love your nose!”

“I love your face.” matsukawa gently pulls you back down, gathering you into his chest so he can rest his chin on your shoulder.

“well, it is a pretty nice face,” you say, and he huffs.

“you were supposed to say you love my face, too,” he whines in a small voice. you almost giggle at the thought of this six foot two giant baby-talking to you.

“I thought that was self-explanatory,” you say. “I like everything about you.”

matsukawa shoots you a dramatic glare, furrowing his brows. “yesterday you said you didn’t like my t-shirt.”

“it was a rick and morty t-shirt! I was morally obligated to disparage your fashion taste in that moment,” you say piously.

“so you don’t like everything about me,” matsukawa sighs, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “my girlfriend is a liar.”

“I like everything about you except for the fact that you like rick and morty,” you correct yourself.

“I like everything about you except for the fact that you don’t like rick and morty,” matsukawa shoots back, and you let out an ugly guffaw.

“alright, then. agree to disagree?”

before answering, he leans forward to give you a brief kiss that you return, enjoying the faint taste of spearmint on his lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”

“I really won’t.”

“you will.”

“I won’t.”

“you won’t.”

“I will,” you say, and then — “wait, no. damn it, issei, I can’t believe that worked on me.”

“gotcha!”

4. march 20th, 3:16am.

“dude,” matsukawa says. “we should go out for ramen.”

“did you just call me dude?” you raise an incredulous eyebrow.

“sorry,” he says, sitting upright and pulling on a shirt. “I meant babe. can we get ramen?”

“it’s 3am,” you say, catching the shirt he tosses to you and putting it on. “is there any place nearby that’s still open at this hour?”

matsukawa whisks you out of bed, bridal style, and spins you around, ignoring your protestations as you attempt to scold him between giggles. when he finally sets you down you’re dizzy, clinging to him for balance. “obviously you don’t understand the ramen business. when the craving hits, it hits, and these guys know that. that’s why there’s a 24 hour ramen-ya near every college campus in the country.”

“then,” you say, blinking hard as the room comes back into focus. “I say we go eat.”

“let zem eat ramen?” matsukawa says in a phony french accent. you want to roll your eyes but you can’t quite bring yourself to do so. he’s too damn charming about it.

“let zem eat ramen,” you repeat, and he laughs, rumpling your hair before grabbing his keys off the bedside table.

“you’re adorable.”

“I’m a legal adult,” you sigh. “why do you insist on calling me cute? I’m sexy.”

“you’re cute and sexy,” he agrees, opening the door for you. “the two are not mutually exclusive.”

“fancy words.”

“I’m just trying to impress you,” he says with an obnoxious wink.

5. april 4th, 1:58am.

“do you think there’s life in space?”

you’re lying side by side next to matsukawa, both staring up at his dorm room ceiling, where a handful of plastic stars glow in the dark.

he snickers. “you mean, like, martians? little green men with antennae?”

“sure,” you say, ignoring his jab. “or maybe enormous space whales swimming somewhere deep in the cosmos. galactic empires of cyborgs and robot servants. train stations that take you from star to star.”

“that reminds me,” he says. you feel him slip his fingers into your hand. “we should watch star wars together sometime.”

“you avoided the question,” you complain, and he laughs.

“sorry,” he says. “I’ve never given much thought to huge space whales or interplanetary train stations.”

“you’ve never wondered might be out there? never wanted to fly to the moon and see what there is to see?” the thought is alien (pun intended) to you. how could anyone look into the star speckled sky and see anything other than a mass of worlds waiting to be explored?

“I don’t need to. kinda have everything I could ever want here on earth already.” matsukawa shrugs, flashing you a grin. “good friends. perfect girlfriend. a really excellent ramen shop down the street.”

“and that’s all you need?”

“that’s all I need,” he agrees, and you stay silent, scooting closer to press yourself into matsukawa’s larger frame. maybe he has a point. you count over your blessings in your head: good friends, perfect boyfriend, a really excellent ramen shop down the street. even space whales can’t really compare, you decide, sneaking a glance at issei only to find he’s already looking down at you with a soft smile.

and maybe that’s enough. maybe it’s enough to have someone who loves you and your flaws, someone who lets you borrow his dumb graphic tees and never lets you pay for your own dinner. maybe what you have here with matsukawa issei, feet on the ground and hands intertwined, is enough.

#because i've recently been obsessed with One (1) mr. matsukawa issei #i'm pretty sure i used the i'll take you line before but you know what #screw it #it's smooth and i'll use it however many times i want #haikyuu #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa headcanons #hqcorenet

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xtodorcki · 3 years

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Suggestion coming!! 🙈 If you are not comfortable with writing this it's completely fine! ❤ I was thinking maybe something fluff that turns smutty in the end with Levi.. Maybe Levi comes back from an expedition and goes to his cabin in the woods( extra points if it's snowing ❄). There he saw his soul mate crying because she thought Levi was dead because of some false information. He comforts her.. And eventually shows her how much she means to him.. 😊

This is actually my first suggestion so sorry for any inconvenience! 🖤

“Wrongful Death,” Levi x Reader

Summary: You heard rumors of Levi and his entire squad being dead from their expedition but when he comes home to you upset, he comforts you.

Warnings: angst to fluff then smut

The long week with Levi being gone was already a lot for you to handle. You always hated when he went out on long expeditions because there was no way to communicate or to know if he’s alright or that he’ll be coming back safely.

Even though you always had full confidence in him and knew just how good he was at being a Scout, you still couldn’t help but worry or have doubts lingering inside of your head as you lay in bed alone.

One day in particular you had gone out in the town just to grab a few things you needed, including some food to make something special for him when he returns which should be relatively soon, he never stayed out longer than a week.

It was starting to slowly snow as you walked about, the cold air becoming thicker as the clouds roll in and sprinkle down the white substance onto the ground, making it stick. You had made a mental note to hurry up with the shopping before it got too cold to handle.

But as you looked down at the vegetables, picking out the best suited ones, you had heard the MPs whispering about near you and once Levi’s name was brought into it, you had stopped what you were doing to listen in on their conversation.

“I heard this expedition was one of the worst ones.” One of them said, making you slowly start to worry at where the conversation was going.

“Yea, I heard Levi’s squad all got wiped clean- no survivors.” In seconds your heart had dropped all the way down to the pit of your stomach, the instant panic that came straight to your head.

You had stopped what you were doing, completely ignoring what you were getting and started to turn back to walk home. You started to feel light headed the faster you had tried to get back to your place, not wanting to fully give into your emotions out on the streets.

The wind started to pick up on your way back, making you tug the big coat around you tighter as you tried to walk faster towards the small cabin you two had shared.

You didn’t want to fully believe what the MPs were saying but you had a gut feeling that they would know what happened out on expeditions before anyone here and that had made you believe that maybe Levi was dead, maybe this expedition was too difficult for him.

As your shaky hand unlocked the front door with the key and opened it up to the empty cabin, your heart started to shatter more, your breathing becoming heavier as you sat on the couch and started to let your emotions overpower you, making soft sobs leave your lips at the thought of him being dead.

His voice kept repeating in your head about him promising you he’ll be back home. The constant reminders he would give you when you both laid in bed before he had to go, always telling you how much he loved you and how he’ll always come back home, it only made things harder to wrap your head around.

You didn’t have anyone else, you didn’t have family, you only had Levi and now that you were fully alone, or so you thought, it broke you apart bit by bit. As you stood up after crying on the couch for a few minutes, you had decided to turn on the fireplace and take your coat off.

All you did was grab a blanket, some hot chocolate and sat back on the couch to cry out your emotions, your face flushed and full of your own tears as you stared out at the wall, almost emotionless.

All while Levi rode his horse back into the walls and towards the base to drop his things off and head back home to you. He was drained from the long week and he was glad it was finally over so he’ll have a relaxing weekend with you.

The snow now became thicker and covered up every inch of the ground, seeing his breath as he grabbed his things and made his way towards the cabin as the sun started to set as it hid behind the clouds.

He didn’t realize how fast he was walking back, he was impatient and he was dying to see your face. He didn’t want to think about the long week he had endured and he didn’t want to think about what had went down including the lives they sadly lost.

He quickly walked up the steps, opening up the door and stomping his boots on the ground to knock off the snow before fully stepping inside the warm cabin. His eyes instantly landed on you on the couch as you turned to see who opened your door, almost startling you.

When he saw your flushed cheeks and your red tear filled eyes, he became worried and shrugged off his coat before making his way over to you. You were completely stunned because you’ve been sitting here crying, thinking he was dead and now he was standing inside the cabin, his worried eyes meeting yours.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked but you quickly wrapped your arms around him and embraced him in a tight hug, more tears spilling out.

“They said you were dead, Levi. I thought you were dead.” You mumbled quietly, feeling completely dumb for believing the rumors you heard.

“Who did?” He was confused, pulling you back to look down at your red eyes.

“The MPs, they said no survivors.”

“And you believed those lazy idiots?” He scoffed, cupping your cheeks and wiping the remaining tears off your face.

“Yeah, sounds stupid now that I think about it.” He cracked a smile, continuing to swipe his thumbs across your cheeks to get rid of the tears that slipped.

“You know I’ll never leave you, right?” He said softly, sighing under his breath at the mess those MPs caused for letting a silly rumor slip.

He was angry but he couldn’t show it, he knew that it wasn’t worth the trouble arguing with those idiots and considering you’re sitting here upset and have been for a few hours, he knew that you needed someone just for a little bit, you needed that comfort to reassure you that everything is okay.

So he sat there on the couch, holding onto you as your head laid there against his chest, hearing his heartbeat thump repeatedly, reminding you that he was here and alive, it wasn’t your imagination.

You could still feel the sadness weighing down on your heart, the sighs leaving your lips so casually as you continued to imagine Levi getting killed on a mission. You couldn’t stop the anxiety that replayed in your mind, it was torture and he soon caught on to your dozed off state.

“You know you mean the world to me, Y/N.” He mumbled, giving you small words of reassurance to comfort you some more.

“I’ll never leave you behind, even if I was out there bleeding out- I would still crawl back home to you.” It wasn’t the best choice of words but you understood what he was trying to say.

“I know, I just get worried.. you’re all I have left.” It was a scary feeling to always worry about him and whether or not you’ll be attending a funeral because he didn’t make it out alive, especially a funeral without his body to bury- it killed you slowly.

“I love you.” He said quietly, his vulnerability leaking out of him to show you just how much he cared about your feelings. H wanted you to know just how much you meant to him.

He decided to get off the couch after kissing the top of your head. He knew that what he went through the last week didn’t matter, not when you were in a state like this. You were first above all, his first priority and he wanted to make sure you were happy and healthy before anything else.

So, he had decided to make some tea and take you to bed where he piled as many blankets as he possibly could to get you warmed up considering it was snowing down pretty hard outside and it was becoming increasingly chilly.

He set your cup of tea on the side table beside you, his lips landing on top of yours for a quick moment, something he’s been thinking about since he left on the expedition. All he thought about on that mission was your warm lips that fit perfectly with his and the way your fingers would always comb through his hair when you both were laid up intertwined with each other.

This all made him happy, the small butterflies exploding inside of his stomach as he slipped under the covers and embraced you in his arms, making you feel safe and more than happy to see his face again. You shivered slightly, your fingers slipping up and tangling in his hair before the both of you started to kiss which got heated pretty quickly from how much you both had missed each other.

It didn’t take long for his body to be hovered over yours and his lips molded with your own to make your skin feel hot underneath all the blankets that had surrounded your bodies.

“Let me show you how much you really mean to me.”

Oh lord here’s another sad post about me being back but at least I posted a writing while I was at it :p

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