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#but pls don't justify his actions

justawemblinfool · 2 years

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raise your hand if you are NOT a freak and you enjoy sam rockwell and want to indepthy discuss characters like justin hammer,, both sam bells,, francis,, billy bickle,, bill greaves,, owen,, ect ect,,

your next step is to hop in my dms and let's talk about them >:O0 !!!!

read the tags,,

#listen idc if you think jason dixon is hot #i don't care if you think klenzendorf and his bf are cute as a couple #as long as you don't justify their very very VERY innopropriate and nasty actions you can come a long and discuss those characters with me #they did wrong doings #they are not men wiht hearts of gold #you people need to acknowledge that #basically what im saying is if you think jason dixon is a good perfect boy pls do some self analyzing #sam rockwell #talking

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yanderestarangel · 23 days

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More about tio miggy pls? Something about him catching his nephew masturbating for him`` his sweet innocent ftm nephew and he destroys his pussy

It really makes me throw my feet up and blush... I say... Hear me out

Tio Miguel would arrive so tired from working on his farm, sweaty, with a smell of drink and sweat on his body while his heavy steps would echo across the old wooden floor ─ but not enough to catch your attention, after all, you were too busy grabbing the pillow with his smell while fingering your own pussy feeling your clit throb with every thought of feeling your step uncle's fat cock filling you completely.

It was supposed to be just another fantasy session, but this time he caught you in the act.

Tio Miguel saw everything through the open door that you had left, your cunt got wet and dirty on the warm sheets beneath you while your breathing became shallow ─ the idea of him inside you — it was taboo yet tempting beyond reason. His erection swelled painfully against his jeans, proof of his mounting arousal. You just felt his warm and rough hand pull you and wake you up from your trance of lust, making you blush but you didn't have much time to justify something, just feeling his two fingers enter abruptly into your wet hole and making you arch your back. Your moans ignited a firestorm within him, urging him towards madness. His fingers danced faster, matching the intensity of your cries.

Tio Miguel pulled you closer, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss ; his tongue dueled with yours, mirroring the action below. Saliva mixed with whiskey, creating an intoxicating blend. His free hand explored your curves hungrily, cupping your breast firmly yet gently. "¿Te gusta, mi vida?" He would growl as he fucked you with his digits watching your juices wet them entirely. "Do you want me, niño? Do you want me to fuck you?"

It wouldn't be long before you were filled with his fat dick─ the hair on his pelvis was hitting your hips as he buried your head into the soft mattress and made you look for more friction with his cock. Tio Miguel pounded his dick into your wetness so many times that you could feel your vision go dark and back again and again, buzzing and growling sounds coming from the brute foreman filled your mind. "You only know how to think about being filled, don't you mijo? You wanted that... So you better deal with my cock."

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elliespeach · 10 months

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tear you apart | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"if your friends won't watch over you, i will." ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. heavily heavily based on the book/tv show "you" on netflix wordcount 4k warnings gosh where do i start, stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, she breaks into readers apartment and goes thru your stuff, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! authors note hi hello hi, i have been so excited to post this!! just wanted to clarify this rn, i am bringing in a LOT of elements from the book and show, especially in this part, if it seems very similar thats why. i don't plan on following the plot line for season one, but i needed a good base to jump off of, dont hate me. n yes, readers best friend is shauna from yellowjackets i couldn't help myself. i needed a girl group, sue me. cat is apart of this girl group, not ellie's ex along w dina, also not ellie's ex in this au lol

fuckin’ trash, ellie thought to herself, looking over the torn up vinyl in her hands. the guy who returned it obviously had no fucking clue how to take care of something. especially something so needing of love. she placed the vinyl down on the counter beside the register before stepping into the back of the store, grabbing her tools of restoration. as she rummaged through a drawer, the familiar bell rang from the front door indicating a new customer, but she ignored it and continued searching for the sandpaper she always left laying around somewhere. the last drawer she opened was the winner, taking her supplies, she emerged from the small room into the front of the store, the beads in the doorway swaying as she walked through them.

thats when her eyes found you, examining the vinyl left on the counter. you hadn’t noticed her yet, too engrossed in the mishandled vinyl. she watched you for a moment as you looked it over, tracing the scratches that lined it. to ellie, you looked to be the definition of a nice girl. sporting a flowy sundress that laid just below your ass. nice girl who likes attention, she thought to herself, looking you up and down from afar.

she played it cool, keeping her eyes on the sandpaper and cloth in her hands as she made her way back to the counter. you finally took notice of her when she stood in front of you. “oh, hi,” you smiled brightly, to which ellie looked up. “whoever handled this vinyl should be in jail.” a sense of humor, ellie smiled at you, letting a breathy laugh fall from her lips. and an appreciation for vinyls, rare.

“a life sentence, for sure.” she spoke, and you laughed. a laugh that was genuine, not forced by politeness.

“can you point me to where i could find a david bowie album, ellie?” you asked sweetly, and she had to remember she wore a name tag. flirting with me and you like david bowie? ellie’s grateful its a tuesday afternoon, the store is dead. giving her more time to talk with you. you, who seemed to never stop smiling at her.

“against the wall,” she pointed. “third box from the left.” she lets you wander over yourself, taking the time to admire the way you carry yourself. you had a pair of red, heart shaped sunglasses resting on your head. ellie could tell you liked to pay attention to details, it was evident in the way you matched your sunglasses to your dress, and she wondered just how many pairs you owned. both short dresses and uniquely designed sunglasses together. her head tilted at the thought, switching her over chewed gum to the other side of her mouth.

you rifled through the box as ellie’s gaze pierced your back, although you were seemingly unaware. david bowie, she thought again. not another stuck up gen z who only listens to who is in the top one hundred, no. no, you were special. ellie put her focus onto the vinyl in front of her, slowly dampening it with the cloth before grinding the sandpaper over the scratches. but she kept you in her peripheral vision and she couldn’t help but notice you were struggling to find a specific one, or at least it looked like it.

“need help?” she asked you, keeping her voice neutral.

your body turned to face her, meeting her eyes and a faux pout on your lips.“i think the only one i want isn’t here, or i’m seriously blind.”

ellie chuckled, coming out from behind the counter, “my money’s on blind, just organized this box a few days ago.”

you huffed lightly, standing to the side while she approached you and the box. “i can’t find the rise and fall of ziggy stardust, it’s one of my favorites.”

of course it is. ellie barely looked in the box before she saw the album, pulling it out and holding it out for you. “i’ll book your eye appointment,” she said with a light grin.

“ugh, my hero,” you gushed, taking the album from her hands gently. i’ll always be your hero, but something tells ellie that you didn’t really need her help to begin with.

“c’mon, i’ll ring you up,” ellie led you back to the register and you placed the vinyl down on the counter lightly.

“promise i won’t do what that guy did,” you joked, reaching into your bag for your wallet.

ellie almost wishes you would. you’d come in a few days later, apologizing for being so clumsy but asking if she could fix it for you. of course, she would say yes. how could she say no to someone like you? “you couldn’t if you tried, pretty sure he did it on purpose.”

“what makes you say that?”

“just a hunch,” ellie shrugs, scanning the barcode on the vinyl.

“maybe his dogs got it, or worse, his kids.” you kept eye contact as you spoke, which shocked ellie. a lot of people would break away, divert conversation, maybe even stay silent all together. but not you.

“if that guy had kids, i’d feel bad for them,” to a lot of people, this comment would rub them the wrong way, and ellie internally cursed herself for saying it. you’re a sweetheart in her eyes, someone who wouldn’t think things like that, but again, you laughed. the transaction was almost over and she was grasping at straws, so she kept going. “guys like him blame everything on everyone else, i wouldn’t be surprised if his kids actually hated him but,”

your head tilted, waiting for more. to ellie, it looked like you were hanging onto every word she said. and she relished in it. “–thats only if someone wanted to have kids with him, which i highly doubt.”

“from what i’m hearing it doesn’t sound like anyone would want to,” you’re trusting my judgment. ellie’s lips curled up with your words, and she bagged the vinyl in a plastic bag. you handed her a credit card, which was decorated with flowers along with your name. and you want me to know your name. you could’ve used cash, the vinyl was less than twenty dollars. but no, ellie knew better and she knew you better. your eyes found the scratched up vinyl yet again, “but you can fix it?”

ellie swiped the card against her own wishes. she’d give you the whole store if you asked with that pretty smile. “it’ll be back in the box within the hour, why? you like pink floyd?”

“yeah, for the most part. i haven’t listened to that album yet,”

“i can put it on hold for you.” ellie rushes out, and she feels like she came on too strong. you could easily listen to it on spotify but she reminds herself that you’re in her store for a reason. you probably own a vinyl player, an older model you got off of facebook marketplace because the newer ones don’t match your personality. maybe a pioneer or a yamaha, and now shes thinking about how you probably dance around your room listening to music. your response breaks her from her imagination.

“that’d be great, thanks ellie,” but she can see it so perfectly in her mind, you’d wear a big t-shirt and a dainty pair of underwear. twirling and spinning about, the t-shirt riding up as you did and as you stood in front of her in that short dress her mind seemed to unravel and she had to clear her throat.

“anytime–” she tacked your name at the end of her words with a smile, handing back your card which you very quickly put in your wallet. her eyes glanced down for a split second, admiring how the dress pushed your tits together before bringing them back up to your face.

“aren’t you going to tell me to have a good day?” you teased much to ellie’s enjoyment, reaching out for the bag she was holding for you.

“have a good day,” your fingers grazed hers, and ellie knew it had to be on purpose. a flirt, and a good one at that.

“you too, ellie. i’ll be back for that album.”

you left the store as quickly as you came, taking your sweet vanilla scent with you. ellie thought about your interaction all day, it consumed her walk home and when she entered her small apartment she fell to her couch and opened her laptop.

plugging your name into any and all social medias was easy, who could forget a name like yours? all your accounts were public, and very quickly ellie could tell just what kind of person you were. the sweet girl who loved vinyls who had an addiction to posting online. your twitter was filled with random, obscure thoughts and always with a hashtag at the end of them. from time to time you’d tweet about where you were, and ellie tsk’d out loud to herself. anyone could find you within seconds, you need to be more careful. you seemed to tweet about everything in your life and ellie refreshed the page, wishing to see a post about the cute girl in the vinyl shop who helped you find your favorite album.

yet, there was nothing. and for a moment it hurt her, but the more she thought about it, it was better you didn’t post about her. that means it was real for you, hope remains.

facebook provided the basics of your family, although the account was inactive. but your parents who divorced a few years back seemed to only post about your younger siblings, leaving her to wonder if they didn’t approve of your lifestyle in the city. she stalked their pages like it was her job and at this point it felt like it was. she discovered that your two younger siblings went off to college out west and your parents even sold their home to be closer to them while still living separate lives. ellie felt pity for you, how could they just leave you behind?

your instagram feed was an aesthetic one, pictures posted solely to appease your followers. a pretty sunset here, a mirror selfie there, a quick post about the food from the restaurant just down the road from ellie’s shop. there were also posts about your own art, colorful and detailed, just like yourself. a painting you did was the last thing you posted, but this one wasn’t like your other ones, it was black and white and had a lonely floating balloon in the center and the borders were lined with overlapping words. ellie could make out only a few of them, ‘melancholy’, ‘nobody’, and ‘distress’.

there were lots of group pictures of you with friends. ellie could see you looked more authentic than them, who all seemed to resemble something out of a factory for young adults. you were a pearl in a sea of clams.

out of curiosity, ellie brought herself to your friend’s pages as well. she needed to see the types of people you spent time with, seeing if they were someone she would approve of for you. one friend made an appearance more than others and she assumed that was your so-called best friend, a spunky city girl named shauna. her own instagram was like an influencer’s guide to posting online, and she seemed like someone ellie would avoid at all costs. shauna’s posts of you always had you in the background, or if you were directly in the frame it was a candid where shauna looked better. she's making herself look better at your own expense, can't you see that?

your other friend’s social media were bland and unhelpful. ellie brought herself back to the task at hand. she typed your name into google and watched the loading screen. your name brought up a string of links all connecting back to your art pieces you’ve submitted to local papers and art galleries. an artist in new york city, aren’t you ambitious. maybe your parents didn’t like the instability of being an artist. but yet, you still pursue your passion. its admirable.

what also popped up was a white pages link, with a few clicks, and a small charge to her credit card she found exactly what she was looking for. there wasn’t much she could do with your phone number, texting you would be creepy. there was no way for her to explain how she got it, so the next best thing was your address. which, lucky for ellie, was only six blocks from her own.

if she could find it this easily, she needed to make sure that no one else did. which is how she found herself standing across the street from your apartment, peering into the windows that had no blinds, no curtains, no protection from the outside world. you were on full display for all of new york. first thing were doing together is buying you blinds. you were lounging around on your coach, scrolling through your phone and periodically shifting in your spot to get more comfortable.

it was dark now, and again, luckily for ellie, someone standing on the sidewalk of new york wasn’t a weird thing to do and no one paid her any mind. for days she would stand in the same spot, studying your movements throughout your apartment. sometimes you would go to bed on the early side, but most nights you were fully awake, sipping something out of a purple mug which she could only assume was coffee, and drawing lines on a canvas.

everytime you would take a break and scroll through your phone, ellie would refresh every social media, waiting for a post. your fingers danced on the keyboard and after a few refreshes on ellie’s end, your twitter had a new post.

@yndoesartstuff: if anyone has tips on how not to procrastinate finishing a wip, please enlighten me

if you just put down your phone, i’m sure you could get it done.

one night she watched as you dipped your wet brush into the purple mug instead of the designated paint water cup. they didn’t even look similar, but ellie laughed to herself while you groaned, tossing your head back before getting up to dump the liquid out of the mug. this would also be the first night ellie gawked at you while your hands dipped below your shorts, she quickly looked around. no one else seemed to notice that you were pleasing yourself with your own gentle hands and her eyes found you again, sprawled out on your couch.

your back arched, obviously hitting your sweet spot and ellie swallowed hard. blinds. were getting you blinds.

some days, ellie was too busy with the store to watch over you and she hated herself for it. too tired to walk the six blocks and instead just looking over your social media again, looking through your friends posts to see if you’ve been up to anything. you had never come back for the album, which ellie had finished nearly two weeks ago now. but tonight, as she locked up the store she knew she was going straight to the sidewalk adjacent from your apartment.

when she arrived at her usual spot she saw you through the windows and you looked too well put together for a night to yourself. you were dolled up and ellie liked to imagine it was for her, you’d leave your apartment and head to the store for the album you said you’d come back for weeks ago. but her hope was squashed when a cab pulled up outside your apartment and a woman who looked way too old started to walk up the steps to the building and entered the main door. ellie had been here enough to know the general look of your building's inhabitants, and this woman wasn’t one of them. maybe someone's mom, maybe she's visiting a friend. she can’t be here for you. no way.

but through the windows, with no blinds, she saw you open your door for this woman and welcome her into your home. your mom. it has to be. ellie’s eyebrows narrowed when you pulled this woman into a hug, then pulled back and let your lips kiss hers. okay, so not your mom. who the fuck is this?

ellie, whose eyes were going from her phone to the big windows of your apartment, began to search through your online presence and found no traces of her. this mysterious woman who, now, you seemed to be having a highschool make out session with on your couch, was all over you, touching you, kissing you, and worst of all, pleasing you. that sweet smile that had previously been for ellie, was now for this woman and it made ellie’s stomach turn. but she didn’t leave, instead watched while the two of you began to peel each other's clothes off.

were getting you blinds and were getting rid of this woman.

the next day while she opened up her store, she couldn’t help but think about you and this woman. she was frustrated, of course. but she couldn’t blame you, obviously this woman was prying on your weaknesses for her own pleasure. taking advantage of you. it sickened her, and she had to know more. she had been through every following list she could think of and still, this woman was a mystery. and as she refreshed your twitter (a new hobby of hers), a new post popped up.

@yndoesartstuff: lunch date with @shaunamavisxx never felt so right – at hoppers tavern

seeing that, ellie locked up shop way too early. it was fairly easy to make her way into your apartment, all she had to do was play the part. “sorry, my girlfriend hasn’t given me a key to this door yet,” she said with a friendly smile to your neighbor, who out of the kindness of his heart let her into the building. she waited until he was in his own apartment before picking your lock.

it smelled like you once she stepped inside, and she let the aroma fill her nose as she walked around. it was messy, canvases piled up everywhere along with dirty paint brushes. clothes lined your floor from the bedroom all the way to the kitchen and she had to force herself not to clean it up for you. she examined your paintings up close, admiring how the strokes on the canvas looked. she noticed you draw a small bird in every corner, the bird is plump, uncolored and holding a small twig. it was your signature, and it matched you so well. but, what she really was after was your laptop, she found it sitting on your unmade bed.

no password? she was shocked, and made a mental note to tell you that you needed to secure your devices. it’s almost as if you wanted her to search through it to get to know you better, and ellie did just that. it was linked to your phone and as she went through your messages they all seemed to be relatively normal. for someone like you, at least.

loads of messages from a group chat labeled city gals, and she knew it wasn’t you who had named it being as you were funnier than that, and less basic. scrolling up, all the conversation in the chat was merely nothing of note, no mention of this woman to your friends which ellie found odd. maybe just a hookup? but even then, wouldn’t you tell your friends?

ellie could gauge your friends' personalities through the texts they would send, shauna was most definitely the unnamed leader of this group, probably also the one who named the chat. her texts were mostly about planning activities, meanwhile the others just tacked on with fake enthusiastic responses. even yourself.

leaving the group chat, she continued to scroll down your messages and found an unsaved phone number which seemed to be the winner. you don’t have her number saved, this is good. a lot of your texts to her went unanswered, left on seen and only responded once you’d ask for her to come over. that usually generated a reply within minutes from this woman, who ellie still didn’t know the name of. it angered her even further, realizing she was just toying you along. only using you for your body when you were so much more than that.

ellie jotted down the unsaved number into her notes app, saving it for later when she could find out just exactly who this woman was. it was clear from the texts that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you still kept texting her like a sad puppy. it was pathetic, really, but ellie didn’t judge. she knew that your attention seeking habits were brought on by your dysfunctional family, she just wished it was her on the receiving end.

she found herself in your emails and saw you had an abundant amount of unread ones. it was a lot of spam and a waste of time, so she moved on. she decided it was best to go into your search history, restaurants, art galleries that allowed online submissions, sometimes even silly questions that ellie would most definitely answer for you if you asked.

“how do magicians do their cutting in half tricks?” you would ask her from the couch while ellie made you both dinner.

she’d call out from the stove, “there’s a fake table, the girl puts her legs through that. the legs you see on the other end are fake, baby.” and you would giggle sweetly as you always did, thanking her for being a know-it-all.

but as she continued to scroll further and further down your search history, she saw that the day you two had met, you googled “vinyl stores near me” and ellie’s was the first to pop up. she thanked every star in the universe for such a coincidence, but the more she thought about it, it couldn’t have been a coincidence because to her, it was always meant to be.

suddenly your laptop dinged and a new message appeared at the top from city gals. it was shauna and she was proposing a night out and it didn’t take long at all for the rest of the chat to respond.

shauna: drinks at our favorite spot tonight?

dina: totally what time

shauna: like 8 ish?

cat: sounds good to me

shauna: im with our heavy drinker, she says yes too!! see u guys then

dina: hangin w out us :( rude

cat: yeah wtf

shauna: oh hush its no biggie, we’ll see you guys tonight

ellie sat back as the texts rolled in, heavy drinker? ellie didn’t like the sound of it, and your friends seemed to think it was funny. bet they don’t even watch over you when you’re plastered, leaving you alone where anyone could hurt you. a few clicks on your instagram and she found a group mirror picture in a dirty bar bathroom, and the location clear as day at the top of the post. she confirmed it with a few other pictures and a deep dive of your twitter. gotta stop putting your location everywhere.

ellie knew your lunch date with shauna would be ending soon and you’d return home to start getting ready for the evening. she shut your laptop down, placing it exactly where it was on the bed before and started towards the door to leave. as she was on her way out, a bright red thong caught her eye. it was so carelessly thrown between the couch and the table next to it and she stuffed them into her pocket before locking the door behind her on the way out. she knew you’d never notice, your apartment already looked like a tornado had been through it seven times over.

she played with the string of fabric in her pocket as she walked down the sidewalk back to her place, contemplating the night to come. if your friends won't watch over you, i will.

read part two here :)

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams au #modern!ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader

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suckondescoconuts · 4 months

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Cna I request aged up Inosuke x very submissive whiny bratty afab reader pls?? (Like they’re really needy and clingy) nsfw obv ^^ ty <33

Yes, yes, YES

Man would be wild and piss at your attitude lol.

✨Thank you for the request✨

ⵊɴᴏsᴜᴋᴇ Hᴀsʜɪʙɪʀᴀ X Bʀᴀᴛ⚠︎︎

𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙽’𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝

𐦐𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖𐦐

You were being a whole brat today, pissed off by any means necessary to justify how you felt unseen by your boyfriend and he of course didn't get it.

You were having dinner with Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and of course your lover, but you didn't wanted to this, you wanted to be alone with Inosuke and with that you started to act like a brat through this whole dinner, sulking where you sat while everyone chatted with eachother except for you.

You sat there quietly eating your food until you thought of a plan that will making this dinner go much quicker. You brought your hand onto Inosuke lap since he's sitting right beside you and started to massage his thigh. He didn't respond or reacted to that type of behavior until you dragged your palm onto his crotch, rubbing him there. He flinched for a little, jolting up in surprise, causing Tanjiro and Zenitsu to notice.

"Inosuke, are you alright?"

"Yeah, why did you freak out of nowhere?" Tanjiro and Zenitsu asked concerned of their friend well being.

"I'm fine, nothing really, just a shiver, that's all."

You smirked and giggled a little at his quick answer, you kept eating with your other hand that wasn't occupied while the other one kept rubbing his hard on. It was cute seeing him all flustered and all.

He stayed stiff until finally he made a move and gripped your wrist with little to no force, but to stop you from doing anything that will cause a ruckus, but of course you didn't listen to his actions and kept going at it.

Tanjiro knew was going on of course, he can see right through y'all and so when he and Zenitsu was finished he stood up, saying that they somewhere to attend to.

"We d-?!"

"Yes, now come on."

You and Inosuke said your goodbyes and waved at them when they left the house.

"Bye, bye you two, have fun." Tanjiro said turning his head towards y'all direction while still walking.

While those two last words went over your guys heads, you turned away from your lover and started to head to the bathroom.

"Hey, where do you think your going, you stated this, how are you going to fix this?"

"Hmm," you replied while turning your head towards him "I don't know, it sounds like a you problem."

Now he was stunned, pissed of maybe, but the only thoughts in his mind was to punish you for your rude behavior. He hurt in anger, causing clouds of air come out of his nostrils, he marched towards you, grabbed you around the waist, and lifted you up over his shoulder.

"Inosuke, put me down!"

He didn't respond and brought you to your shared bedroom, sliding the door open and laying you down on the futon.

"Since you want to act like brat, I'll treat you like a brat." He huffed again, stripping your clothes off your body swiftly. Then he took his hand on brought it upon your hole and pushed his finger inside, making a slick sound from the action.

"Ahh, Inosuke~"

"Yeah, you like this?"

He thrusted in and out of you, making your slick run onto his knuckles, making him smirk pridefully.

"Your already wet and juiced up for me, did you want me to take action like this huh."

"Fuck, oh my god, please don't stop fuck~"

He smirked even more, but more creepy, his signature smile (you know lol).

"Inosuke please, I need."

"You need what, tell me."

"I need you, god fuck~"

He started too his finger out of you, bringing them to his lips, slurping your juice while looking into your eyes, and with that he brought his none occupied hand to his pants and started to strip them off of himself.

"Hope your ready for the god of mountains."

Then his dick sprung up into the air, standing tall and mighty, throbbing for attention like you wanted from the beginning. He grasped his cock and brought it to your hole, pushing into it. He then grabbed your thigh and pushed them close to your shoulders while he started to thrust into your body slowly to a wild dog.

"Oh my YES!" You screamed out in pleasure while he kept ramming into you.

"Shit, yeah, fuckkk~"

Press here for the Twitter link ——> 𐦐𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𐦐

"Yeah, you gonna keep acting like bitch, or do I have to keep putting you in your place?"

"I promise, I-I won't, I'll be a good girl, I promISE~"

"You better, FUCK!"

You then felt strips of warmth flood inside of you, causing you to cum behind him. You laid there breathing in and out from exhaustion while Inosuke let go of your legs, bringing them down onto the futon and pulled out of you, making you hiss from being overstimulated.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, just need a breather."

He laid beside and brought you close to him, feeling or hearing closely to his heartbeat made you fall asleep quickly making him follow suit with you into dreamworld.

𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂'𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓪 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓰𝓾𝔂𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓰 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓑𝓨𝓔

P.S. follow me on Wattpad, my name is @Ava873703, I post there more new stories then here

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kyn #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer smut #kimetsu inosuke #inosuke x y/n #inosuke hashibira smut #inosuke x reader #demon slayer inosuke #inosuke smut #inosuke hashibira #suckondescoconuts #twt links #twitter links

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fallen6253 · 14 days

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Hello hello!

I was rereading Choi Han’s indignity test for the thousandth time (I need more little rok soo pls I'm desperate) and the thing that catches my attention now is the clues.

It says food, warm home, clean clothes, and abundance of food for dinner.

Not thinking about any other clues the author did not show us (there was definitely so much more; we were robbed–) because that would drive me insane from what we know so far (there’s so much yet so little I wanna cry).

Anyway, some found it confusing how there were two notifications about ‘food’ and ‘abundance of food for dinner’ so now I want to word vomit about it.

There is a difference between having food to eat at all and being in front of so much food there’s no way you could eat it all.

Food in general was scarce for Kim Rok Soo at that age (well, at most of his ages but anyway) so imagine being Rok Soo and letting a stranger take you to their house because you want to avoid your own and instead of the things you probably had been expecting, this total stranger just. Started putting food in front of you and tells you to eat. To eat all you wanted. And he leaves for a bit and Rok Soo enjoys the cartoons you rarely get to watch because the TV makes too much noise and you don't want to be locked away in your cold and dark room again. But then the guy comes back with even more food and when you tell him you’re full he looks. Devastated. And the man hides the food he thought you didn’t see, which is so ridiculous you almost crack a smile, until he brings out an apple pie, and now you’re baffled.

And what really gets me is that Choi Han calls him a good boy. And little Rok Soo looks baffled. And there is no notification about comfort or praise covering up his indignity.

Which implies he is already at that stage where he does not know how to take compliments seriously and just assumes the person is either lying or stupid (which may track in his logic for this stranger that brought some random kid home and just started feeding him).

Or it implies that compliments and praise were never something Kim Rok Soo thought of wanting.

You can’t focus on wanting to be loved if your priority has to be finding a way to survive.

Which tears my heart into pieces because. This little baby, o my lord, I wish you could feel safe enough to want someone to say something nice about you, that you lived well enough to be concerned about people liking you. I wish he knew that there would be people who loved him, waiting for him in the future, and that he would not only feel lost forever. I wish he was living well enough to want to delve into his favorite books with open fervor, talking with others who were reading the same thing and discovering a new way to see a story. I wish he could feel safe enough to express himself in any other way that did not say ‘it does not matter much what happens anymore’ and ‘I don’t have the strength to go against all of this despair’. Because this little kid grows up to be so strong, in ways he can’t even see in himself because he’s too busy lifting other people up from groundless depths.

And he grows up to be something so big, and so warm that it’s such a happy miracle he survived the environments he lived through. And even after suffering so much loss and failure, he still can’t help caring for people. And he does it in a way he is conscious of, but he explains it away as a strategy to survive, and it’s his selfish way of finding solace in bright young futures he never had. Because he needs to justify it. Because simple kindness can be thrown away and mistrusted so easily, and it can vanish in an instant.

So he explains it away as a selfish action when he wishes to find solace in saving others.

In becoming the comfort to others he did not get.

In becoming the person he wanted to save him.

#the big sad here oml #little kim rok soo #child kim rok soo #cale henituse #tcf cale #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #indignity test #can we just talk about this amazing little man #another TED talk about cale's shitty childhood

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heartybubs · 10 months

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jealousy jealousy

the 100 [ john murphy x reader ]

type: ig angst but it’s not well written enough to ‘hit’

tropes: jealousy, roommates, unspoken but accepted love, best friends to lovers

warnings: violence ( knife fight ), mentions of murder

in which wells jaha is getting help by the only person willing to be around him, who just so happens to john murphy’s unofficial girlfriend, who then has to deal with his idiotic jealousy.

a/n: hii, i’m back! this is based on a request i really really liked but i’m not happy with what i actually wrote so i hope it’s okay to read. i kinda ignored how much of a psychopath murphy was in the first season cause i really couldn’t have justified his actions otherwise and the whole jealousy part wouldn’t have been entertaining AT ALL. so yea, i was struggling a bit ( whilst also blatantly ignoring the timeline, ignore anything that doesn’t match the canon timeline of s1 pls ), but at least i tried right🫣 no pronouns

w.c.: 2040

yours and murphy's relationship was a rather unclear, but at the same time simple one. you weren't officially dating, but during your time on the ark, when you were locked up in your shared cell, where you also met, you definitely did some inappropriate stuff; stuff that friends don't do.

your cell was also the place where the two of you bonded, becoming really really close rather quickly. although he was a very aggressive and irritating person to be around at first, you got used to it and soon he became your favourite person to be around.

now, after months of being roommates and part time lovers, you were finally on the ground, something you'd dreamed of since you first learned about it and therefore were keen on securing your survival. murphy on the other hand, got so bad that even you couldn't deny the fact he was a total asshole and if you didn't know he would never hurt you, you'd be way too scared to share a tent with him, especially alone.

you didn't actively distance yourself but after watching him bully wells, the chancellor's son, countless times for his father's actions, you kind of naturally looked for ways to make some new friends. and as if the universe hated john murphy, you seemed to work really well with wells.

everytime murphy saw you talk or walk around with wells, which honestly happened quite a lot, it fueled his hatred against home even more and made him want to stay away from you too.

you didn't mind not being associated with the provocative behaviour of john murphy and the way he tyrannized the other delinquents, however, it was a very different story when it came to going to bed and waiting for him until you physically couldn't keep your eyes open any longer, leading to you and him barely ever meeting and getting a chance to talk, despite sharing a tent.

yes, murphy was an asshole, that was totally not up for debate, BUT he was also the cell mate you had for the past few months; one who you loved deeply.

you were sitting by the dropship, wells next to you, watching your hands closely.

"see, it's really important that you wrap everything tightly, like super tight, since you don't want your arrow to fall apart in the air, alright?", you explained and made sure he understood. you were teaching him how to make an arrow from scratch and although you weren't an earth skills expert, you definitely knew more than wells, who didn't get the chance to attend earth skills class back on the ark. and you could probably count the people who at least tolerated wells on one hand, you included.

"okay and, sorry", he paused, scrunching his nose and forehead as he stared at the arrow-to-be in front of him, "how do i make sure the tip is sharp and everything? i just don't get it, sorry. i don't wanna waste your time y/n.”

you smiled, appreciating his consideration, but clearly declining his indirect offer for you to do something else. there wasn't anything else for you to do and he also wasn't wasting your time, he was just learning and you really liked teaching him; it helped you understand better as well.

"wells, c'mon. i'm choosing to be here, you didn't force me and i don't think it would be okay to produce less arrows, that literally get us food, just cause i'm bored of you", you said, smiling at him, "not.. not that i am bored of you, but you know what i mean!"

he grinned before nodding. honestly, there wasn't anything wrong with wells at all and you truly didn't understand how your fellow delinquents could treat him they way they did. especially murphy.

speaking of the devil, murphy was brutally staring at you and oh boy was he jealous.

he didn’t want to approach you, as he was lowkey trying to avoid starting anything right in front of you, let alone with you. he wasn’t blind and therefore noticed how much more distant you and him were ever since arriving on earth so he was trying to avoid any additional conflicts between you.

when you looked up, your eyes meeting his for a quick moment, leading to you sending a small smile his way, he almost forgot about all his anger and jealousy towards wells. that was until you looked back at the boy in front of you and started smiling hard at the almost perfect arrow he had just put together.

murphy was gonna make wells pay, hard. he just had to catch him away from you, something that was way harder to arrange than he’d like it to be.

“don’t you see you can’t control this?!”, wells voice echoed through the woods as you nervously made your way back. you were wandering around outside of camp, always keeping close to the dropship as you knew you could get los easily. the initial reason you decided to turn around was the cheering delinquents and something inside of you just had you thinking that murphy must have had something to do with it.

“wait”, you heard bellamy yell, making the noise die down for a moment. it calmed your nerves as you were standing at the back of the group, trying to be as tall as possible to see what was going on. “fair fight”, bellamy said before you could hear something metallic fall to the ground.

anxiety increasing again, you tried to push yourself through the delinquents that were proudly chanting for murder meanwhile you had to pray for a miracle; one that ensured that murphy wasn’t part of this.

“this is for my father”, you could make out murphy’s voice fairly quickly right as you were able to watch him attack wells with a knife. a gasp escaped your throat when wells defended himself with ease, pushing murphy to the ground and holding a knife to his throat.

“stop it! are you insane?!”, your feet were moving before you could think about your actions, bringing you right where wells and murphy were standing.

wells dropped his hand. murphy looked at you with fear and regret. he didn’t regret attacking wells, but he didn’t want you to see him like this. however, one had to admit that he hadn’t been trying very hard.

“y/n..”

“no, shut up john. i am so beyond done with your shit. yours too!”, you pointed a finger at bellamy who just rolled his eyes at your tone.

“if this is who you want to be, fine. go ahead and be a dickhead, john. you disgust me”, you mumbled angry words right into his face before storming off.

despite it being really challenging, you decided to ignore murphy for now. you couldn’t believe that he would do something as reckless as getting into a knife fight with wells! of course wells wasn’t innocent either, but it was clear who the aggressor must have been, even without having been there the entire time.

it was kind of embarrassing that you couldn’t even deny the high possible of john murphy, the boy you had lowkey caught feelings for, murdering an innocent boy for fun.

truly messed up, making murphy more and more deserving of the silent treatment you were giving him. at first he had stayed away from you until you didn’t even come to the tent at night, secretly having had asked a girl named harper to stay in hers.

so when you kept ignoring murphy the day after the incident, it angered him so much that he immediately stormed into your tent when he watched you enter it from afar.

“what the fuck y/n”, he said, his voice laced with irritation as he stared at you. his blue eyes piercing yours.

despite being intimidated, you stayed stubborn and didn’t give him any attention. he hadn’t deserved it yet.

“oh i see, you’re ignoring me? are you being serious? for what, scaring the chancellor’s son a bit? you know damn well i wouldn’t have done anything”, he said, rolling his eyes and waited for a reaction. this time you looked at him critically before ignoring him again.

“wait, you do know that, right?”, murphy’s voice softened a bit. he moved so that he could observe not only your body language, but also your eyes. this made you lower your gaze.

soon after, you felt two hands touching your skin. they were cold but the touch was warm, hot even. murphy moved your face so that you were looking at him and he immediately noticed your worried expression. he instantly understood that you actually didn’t know that he wasn’t a cold hearted killer.

“y/n, i wouldn’t have killed him, i swear. yes, i harmed him and i did that on purpose, i’ll be fully honest here, but i was just angry at him”, he explained himself calmly now.

you removed his hands from your face before getting up from the bed you had previously sat on. “what do you mean angry, john? what did wells do to you? you’ve been treating him like absolute shit, are you kidding me, i don’t get it”, you said. you wanted to yell at him but you also tried to hold onto the tiniest bit of privacy you had behind the ‘walls’ of your tent.

murphy slightly rolled his eyes and shook his head, then sat down on the bed and took off his shoes.

he is trying to escape the conversation!

it annoyed you that he had the audacity to ignore your question after everything he had done up until this point.

“what is WRONG with you, john. talk to me already!”, this time, he basically had you begging. again, unbelievable.

he tried to let as much time pass as possible before linking his hands, putting his arms behind his head and looking up. he sighed and licked his lips, trying to find the right words. “i was.. kinda jealous.”

you couldn’t help but stare at him and ultimately break out in laughter. this was absolutely pathetic.

“you were gonna kill someone out of jealousy? are you INSANE MURPHY?!”, you didn’t even try to keep your voice down, he deserved this.

“y/n, i know that it was wrong alright. but i already told you that i wouldn’t have killed him”, murphy was annoyed and you could clearly hear it in his voice. he however, could clearly see that you weren’t just going to let him disrespect you like that. he sighed again.

“do you want me to apologize?”, he asked quietly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. murphy moved his head so that he could look at you and when a slight grin appeared on your face, he let himself fall back into the sleeping bag.

of course you’d want him to apologize.

“yea, to wells”, you said, ruining his mood entirely.

“WHAT?! you gotta be insane. do you know how embarass”, your expression made him halt in the middle of the sentence, the stubbornness you radiated even caused him to groan. “okay.” you truly had him wrapped around your finger.

“good, john”, you said and walked over to him. “y’know what, this is an amazing sign for you to be better in general because from what i’ve noticed, you’ve been pure hell for most people in this camp”, you admitted, knowing he wouldn’t be mad at you for your honesty.

this, once again, caused murphy to roll his eyes at you. he shook his head slightly, not wanting to talk about his own behaviour anymore, he held one arm out to you, inviting you into the bed with him.

you hesitated for a short second, but quickly got down next to him.

“ugh come here”, murphy said and pulled you into his side.

sharing a bed or cuddling wasn’t a new thing to you two, but it made your heart jump, in a very very good way, everytime it happened.

you repositioned your head until you found a position comfortable enough to stay in and took a long breathe in.

after a moment of silence you began giggling.

“so, jealous huh?”

#the 100 one shot #the 100 #the 100 angst #john murphy x reader #john murphy #murphy x reader #wells jaha #bellamy blake

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lastoneout · 3 months

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Okay I'm finally sitting down to properly watch the PJO series so here's an episode-by-episode live blog I guess. (Fair warning, I haven't read the books since I was a teenager, I am a smidge of an apologist for the films, and my favorite adaptation so far has been the musical.)

Episode One:

All of the actors are doing a really good job, I especially like Sally.

The costume design for both the monsters and the humans is pretty killer. I want Percy's sweater.

I also love the little seaside cabin and want to live there!!!

This is such a mild gripe BUT as someone with dyslexia I wish there was a better way to visually depict it without like, doing the swapping letters thing cuz that's just not what it's actually like at all.

Gabe maybe feels a little too funny. Like I'm supposed to hate him and think it's justified that he deserves to be turned into stone at the end, this version of him is really.....toned down, and his banter with Percy and Sally was fun to watch. I should hate him, but really he just came across as unpleasant. Less abusive asshole and more "old married couple who share interests but can't communicate without shouting" you know?

Loved Grover's little "I'm 24 actually" lmao that was great.

Not a fan of Percy immediately recognizing the Minotaur within a millisecond of it appearing before the audience even got a good look at it. Like, I just sat there thinking "how can he even see it?" rather than feeling scared of a big monster barreling at them.

The action is uh....fine? Feels a little lackluster. Or kinda....divorced from the rest of the show weirdly?? Idk it makes me feel like I'm watching a movie of a movie if that makes sense?? But we'll see where they go with it. (I know banter during a fight isn't realistic and people make fun of Marvel for it, but like...it helps to have at least a little talking. We don't wanna be Man of Steel.)

I feel like there's been a few "slightly out of sync ADR" moments but they weren't too distracting.

Pacing into Sally saying goodbye felt a little long, kinda took the shock of her dying out of the scene, but the actress REALLY sold all the emotional beats so I'll forgive it.

I LOVE the credits sequence!!! Reminds me of the designs on that one box set of the books in a really cool way.

Episode Two:

Oh yes the ugly ass neon orange shirts are here bless!

FUCK YES THAT'S DIONYSUS BAYBEEE!! My ONLY note is that he def could have turned up the energy a little, but that's probably just bcs I love how loud and unpleasant he is in the musical and I also know how unhinged this actor can be.

Chiron is such a delight <3

I like the cabins too, way better than how I imagined them as a kid reading the books lol

Oh, I can see why the new fans fell for Luke so hard.

Grover assuming a human being squished would be like an old banana is very funny. Felt very book-humor in a good way.

Clarisse!!

Oh damn actual disabled half-bloods, very cool!

Minor but I can't actually tell what Percy did wrong with the bow? Weird editing I guess.

Aside from that I actually love a good "fuck up" montage, I honestly wish it were a little longer.

Probably doesn't matter but I don't get having them burn the food after they've started eating? I thought that was a before you sit down type thing.

Percy burning the blue candy to try to talk to his mom was sweet tho T_T

"real friends" hahahaha.....yeah.......about Luke.......

yay! hazing!

Oh I love Annabeth already >:D

Thalia.....is pronounced differently than I thought....?

(I'm sorry I'm too much of a fan of 'Tree on the Hill' for this exposition dump. That shit hits harder when coming from Grover.)

Percy giving Annabeth the "actually I suck and my self esteem is riding on this so like pls don't ask me to do anything hard T_T" talk is just, so good lmao

ofc he doesn't know what's going on Annabeth you didn't tell him anything

Okay the action is a lot better when it's between the actual characters and doesn't involve a 3D monster, though I still had trouble following all the hits Percy was taking.

Oooh I can see why people did so much art of Percy being claimed that was a good shot.

FUCK YEAH TELL HIM YOU'RE SALLY JACKSON'S SON

(I hope they kept the Oracle in the attic...)

Okay I have to go do some things and then I'll be back for more!

#long post #loo watches pjo #pjo spoilers

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mochiwrites · 1 year

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last life au

in light of third life turning two years old today, I offer a wip I've had sitting in my google drive since february! if any of you remember this post I made a while back, all you need to know is that third life!grian has swapped places with last life!grian somehow. without further ado, here's my very unfinished and very rough last life au wip (pls don't judge it too harshly LOL)

happy two years to the series that changed me as a person! :D (edit: now posted on ao3! read here)

if you enjoyed, please reblog! reblogs do more than likes <3

To Grian, the desert was once a home.

It wasn’t perfect, not really. Perfection is nearly impossible in a game of death, but what he and Scar had came close. The desert was the farthest thing from a good location, all things considered. The days were hot, far too hot, and the nights were so cold that it left Scar and Grian curling up close for warmth. There was nothing but sand for miles, which made gathering materials a constant challenge.

But they had their home. Their tower, their place of respite. Dogwarts was a constant threat barreling down their door, but together they made it work. Their home was far from perfect, but it was theirs and that’s what Grian came to love about it.

Except now, as he stands in a ring of cacti, he has destroyed his home.

His home is filled with lava and craters, a reminder of what they did to survive. Their desert was ruined days ago in what they had hoped to be the final showdown with Dogwarts and The Red King. They blew up their desert for a win they never achieved.

Maybe that was the first sign that things were going wrong. Their desert, their home, their small temporary sanctuary in this hellish game was blown apart.

Ends justifies the means, no?

After all, to Grian, their home was more than just the desert. Their home was with each other. The desert never mattered much to him, not when he had Scar, and vice versa. The desert was a symbol, more than anything. Of Grian’s debt, his guilt. He’ll never admit it, but it felt a bit liberating to destroy it.

And maybe that’s why things went oh so horribly wrong.

Maybe that is why his fists are shaking, knuckles raw and covered in blood. Maybe that is why he stares down at the bloodied corpse of what was once his partner, his other half. His insides twist and turn, creating a mangled mess of emotions within him. The sun beats down on him, sweat and blood mixing together as one. His hair is in his eyes, but he doesn’t care much. His tank top feels like too much but also too little all at once.

His knuckles ache, his body is sore. He’s hardly covered in bruises and scratches, and yet he still feels like he’s just been beaten half to death anyways.

He can’t bear to look at Scar, to meet his gaze and see his own brightly shining eyes reflected in lifeless, empty ones.

“For everything you’ve done to keep me alive this long, you may slay me and take the enchanter.”

Scar’s words ring in his head, accompanied by his laughter. Grian puts a bloodied hand up to his mouth as a wave of nausea rolls over him. He doesn’t pay any mind to the copper twinge that fills his mouth. He tears his gaze away from anywhere remotely near Scar, instead turning and looking over the mountain.

Their home is in ruins. Their home is gone. The last of their home has been destroyed by his own two hands, killed for the sake of winning some pointless game.

His victory feels hollow. Empty.

He had wanted to win together. Winning without Scar felt… wrong. It feels wrong. After all they’ve been through, after establishing something between them, winning alone just… didn’t look as appealing anymore.

“I’m getting you! I’m getting you good!” “I don’t think you are!”

His hands ache. His chest feels tight, as if his ribs have been coiled tightly around his lungs to constrict his air flow. He takes a slow step back, as if trying to escape the scene of the crime. His legs shake from the weight of both his body and his actions. Grian takes a shaky breath.

“Can we win together?”

He stumbles as he walks backwards, his world dipping and tilting.

Grian won alone.

He doesn’t feel like a winner.

He doesn’t even want that title.

The guilt is eating at him. Why? Why is he the one that survived? The point of all of this was so that Scar could win! That’s why Grian stayed with him!

(He won’t admit to himself that there’s more to it than that. He won’t admit to himself that somewhere along the way his feelings changed. No longer was he staying by Scar’s side out of guilt or obligation. Without Grian even noticing, Scar grew on him. Scar broke through his walls with his ridiculous yet charming nature, and Grian found himself wanting to stay with Scar because he wanted to see him win. Because somehow, somewhere, Grian’s heart had been swayed and stolen. Somewhere, he had fallen in love.)

For a moment, he’s angry. He’s angry at the blood lusting ghosts for demanding a final fight. He’s angry at Scar for letting him win, for making him win. Frustrated, bitter words lay on his tongue as he turns around to admonish the man, emotions getting the better of him.

Only to turn and be met with his corpse. Blood pools around Scar’s body, bruises littering his face and chest. Grian had been throwing punches wildly.

His stomach lurches, and he covers his mouth again. Copper fills his nostrils, heavy and thick. “Oh… I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, but there’s no one around to hear him.

He tears his gaze away, instead surveying the desert around him. His blood is rushing in his ears, making it hard to hear. His head swims as he stands still, looking over at the rivers of lava throughout the desert.

Grian’s eyes settle on the cliff face.

This desert isn’t a home anymore. It’s vacant, empty. Pointless. His home doesn’t exist, not without Scar.

He walks toward the cliff.

“Scar, I’m so sorry!”

“I’m sorry too!”

The desert is unfamiliar, morphing and twisting into something dark and unwelcoming. It has become a monster of Grian’s own creation. It has become something that Grian has ripped apart with his own two hands. Something that once brought him warmth is now cold and barren. The desert is a shadow, a weak imitation of what it once was.

He stands on the ledge.

He wonders what was going through Scar’s mind during all of this. What was he thinking? Does he hate Grian for being the one to survive? Is he at peace, having been the one to die? Does he hate Grian for killing him? Does he hate Grian for ruining their home? Or is he happy with the way that things have gone? Grian supposes he’ll never get to know.

He shuts his eyes and jumps.

-----------------

Muffled noises surround him.

He can’t quite make out what the noises are, not when it feels like his head has been submerged under water. One by one, his senses return to him and huh, that’s weird. He’s dead, yet he can feel his body? That… shouldn’t be normal. Granted, Grian has never been permanently dead before. Do most dead people still feel their body? Is that even possible?

The next thing he feels is something soft underneath him. Now Grian knows that isn’t right. The last thing he remembers feeling is his body slamming into the hard ground below, shattering his bones. The pain had only lasted a few seconds before Grian fell unconscious, but it had been excruciating while he could still feel. Darkness had come to claim him quite swiftly.

But whatever he’s laying on… it feels nothing like the harsh sand. It’s softer, almost silky. Plush. It only serves to confuse Grian more, seeing as once more, he isn’t sure if feeling things still is normal for a dead person.

Ever so slowly, Grian slowly opens his eyes. His eyes are met with a stone ceiling, which… is that supposed to be there?

Grian had a few ideas of what the afterlife would be like – if he even has one. An empty void, or maybe the End. Perhaps he’d return to the wasteland that was once his home and haunt it as a ghost. (A kinder part of him had hoped that he’d reunite with his friends, and they could all cry and hug one another. And maybe he could see Scar again, and shake him around for making Grian kill him, and then hold onto the man so that he’d never lose him again.)

Experimentally, he wiggles a finger or two. Yup, there’s still a body attached to him. Alright. Though to his surprise, he isn’t in any sort of pain. Maybe that shouldn’t be surprising, all things considered.

Something wet touches his hand then, and Grian leaps up with a shriek. He pulls his hand back and looks at whatever touched him, finding a dog sitting on the ground. “Huh?” He looks at the dog, seeing a red collar around its neck. “Why is there a dog here?” The animal simply tilts its head to the side in response.

It’s then that Grian actually takes the time to look around at where he is, and he pauses. The first thing he notices is that he’s laying in a white bed. There’s a chest and a crafting table in front of the bed, and there are dogs just about everywhere. Ah, so that’s what all the noise was. A furnace is set on the floor against the wall, and Grian finds himself feeling very confused.

This is… definitely not the afterlife, that’s for sure.

Did someone rescue him? How? Grian was the only one left on Third Life, everyone else was…

Lips curling in a frown, he moves to slide off of the bed. Just as his foot touches the ground, he pauses, recognizing the extra weight on his body. Looking down at himself, Grian finds iron armor on him, which only worsens his confusion. Why is he in armor?

Standing from the bed, he looks around at the room. He’s certain that he’s underground, if the walls of stone and dirt are anything to go by. He watches as one of the dogs (a pup) clambers onto the bed and circles the pillow before curling up and laying down.

It leaves him feeling very confused.

He casts a glance around at the stone box he’s in, looking at each of the dogs. Some of them don’t pay him any mind, and others are staring right at him. Who’s dogs are these? And why are they here, wherever here is. They seem friendly with him at least, but Grian doesn’t know if that makes him relaxed or more nervous. He remembers Joel’s pack of wolves.

While looking around, he spots a ladder tucked against the wall leading down. He doesn’t go toward it, in case it’s trapped. Instead, he looks at the pickaxe he has on him and uses that to cautiously dig a little staircase up.

It takes him a few minutes to get to the surface, considering he’s trying to dig out and also listen to his surroundings. When he finally pops his head out from the dirt, he does so carefully, peeking out to look around him. There’s no one around him besides trees and mountains. He sighs softly in relief. Though he still has to remain vigilant.

Climbing out of the hole, he covers it back up with dirt (just in case if he was saved by someone, they won’t immediately notice he’s gone). Standing at full height, Grian takes a look around. The first thing he notices is how the landscape is completely different to Third Life. What is this place, he wonders. The terrain all looks different.

Lips dipping in a frown, he sets his hands on his hips, “Definitely not in Kansas anymore…” he mumbles to himself. If this is the afterlife, it’s quite odd, that’s for sure.

While looking around, he catches sight of something in the distance. It looks like some kind of cobblestone building with roofs of dark oak. From where he is, he can spot four of them. One is at the very top of a mountain, being the most visible.

The idea of approaching it leaves Grian hesitant, but maybe a little investigation wouldn’t hurt. He’s going to have to check it out if he wants any answers as to what this place is. So he makes a journey toward the direction of the towers. Trekking through the trees, he uses the branches for coverage.

And when he gets to the big entrance of the four towers, he pauses.

Grian stares at the front entrance, watching as pistons move up and down in front of him. Watching it, his eyes follow the movements curiously. Surrounding the entrance are walls of dark oak and cobble, wrapping around the base completely. He considers walking inside, maybe exploring whatever this new structure is. There was nothing inside the chest within the bunker for him.

His inventory is an assortment of different items, none of which Grian knows what’s important and what isn’t. By now he’s ascertained that he’s in fact not dead. Which is… confusing. How is he alive? And where is he?

“Oh, Grian!” Someone’s calling his name, and the sound of someone else’s voice makes him jump. He looks up, seeing a familiar blue and red jump suit and dirty blond hair.

Grian’s eyes widen, “Tim..?” The name escapes him with a sharp breath. No longer does his skin look sickly and gray, instead healthy and free of blood. His hair is vibrant, as are his brown eyes. A diamond chest plate sits over his upper body, iron leggings and boots. Grian almost feels like he’s seeing a ghost. The last time he saw Jimmy, it had been in the desert. Right before he died.

It feels weird to see him again, considering he wasn’t meant to die in that fight. He was meant to stay safe. With Scar.

Grief and regret crashes into him at once, nearly knocking him over. Images of that battle flicker in his mind, as well as the aftermath. They hadn’t spent long at Jimmy’s grave.

(Grian paid Jimmy’s grave a visit late that night. He had been fully aware of the risks, knowing that anyone from Dogwarts could attack him. But Grian could bet with certainty they were too busy enjoying a perceived victory against the Desert.

Jimmy’s grave was nothing fancy. Extravagance was a privilege they didn’t have there. Simple cobblestone walls and a poppy planted in the ground was all Scott could give him.

Grian sat down, and apologized. He hadn’t even been there for Jimmy’s death. Jimmy wasn’t supposed to die. And Grian hadn’t even been there to help him. He apologized for that. He promised revenge. His death would not be in vain.

At some point, someone had joined him. A warmth slotted against his side, and the smell of sweat, burnt sand, and summer heat filled his senses. He relaxed.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Grian leaned against Scar, letting his thoughts wander.

“I’m sorry the trap got messed up.” Scar apologized with a low mutter.

Grian huffed quietly, gently knocking his head against his arm,“I don’t care about that. I mean, I do since the only one it got was me, but — I’m more thankful you survived.”

“…I’m sorry you died,” was Scar’s response, “But on the bright side, your debt’s been repaid! You’re a free man!” Grian knew Scar well enough by then to know when he was forcing himself to act cheerful. He could hear the underlying sadness in his voice, the way he was holding something back. But most of all he could hear the fear.

To that, Grian only pressed himself more firmly against him. “Then my first act as a free man is to see this through with you until the end.”

He heard Scar take a breath; shaky and rough. An arm wrapped around him, and he heard a murmured, “Thank you.”)

Jimmy looks a little nervous as he stands on the other side of the pistons, “What’re you doing all the way over there for? Get in ‘ere already!” he exclaims, gesturing for him to come in. “Mumbo disabled the trap!”

His body moves as if it’s on autopilot, legs carrying him toward the gate. He clumsily hops over the pistons and line of stone bricks, landing on the other side. His footing is a bit clumsy as he hits the ground, wobbling slightly. Jimmy laughs at him, and Grian tries to process the sound.

Jimmy isn’t dead. He’s alive.

What in the world is going on?

Grian goes over to him, staring at him with something akin to marvel. Jimmy turns to him, still looking nervous. “So uh… I’m not going to be kicked out, right? I know we had the vote and all yesterday but just wanted to triple check you didn’t change your mind overnight,” he rambles to Grian, shifting back and forth on his feet.

“What?” Blinking in confusion, Grian looks at him. “Why would I be—”

“Oi, Tim! Give the man some space to breathe, would ya?” Another voice joins them, and Grian tenses at the familiarity. “He only just got back last night. At least wait an extra five minutes before you start pestering ‘im.”

Glancing to his side, he spots The Red King’s right hand man approaching them. He’s dressed in iron, a shield attached to his arm. The familiar black bandana peeks out from underneath his hair and his blue eyes are creased with amusement as he looks at the pair. “Martyn?!” The exclamation escapes him before he can stop it. He takes a small step in front of Jimmy, knowing that Scott would be crushed if he lost him a second time (The memory of Scott in his mind would be, anyways). He keeps himself on guard.

Martyn smiles at the pair, “Good morning to you too, fellow Southlander!” He grins. “How’s it feel to be yellow again, eh Grian?” he questions, which makes Grian bristle slightly. He remembers Martyn taking his first life very clearly.

“I’m–”

“Watch out!” A voice calls out, followed by the sounds of feet hitting the ground. Grian jumps as someone barrels past himself and Martyn, cutting right through them in a blur of black. “Hot lava bucket in my hands!”

“I told you to wear gloves!” A second voice follows, and Grian catches a glimpse of yellow and black. He turns his head in the direction the two voices went, seeing them both by the entrance of the fort. Almost instantly, Grian recognizes Impulse from behind. But the one next to him…

Grian feels his entire body freeze. His breath is punched out of him, eyes widening.

The man next to Impulse is setting the bucket of lava down with a large sigh, shoulders sagging in relief. He straightens up, taking a moment to glance around. His eyes lock with Grian’s, and Grian feels rooted to his spot. His throat feels dry, as if he hasn’t drank anything in weeks. He swallows, but it does little to rid the feeling.

Oblivious to Grian’s freezing, the man smiles wide at him, hurrying over. “Grian!” he exclaims, “Glad you got here before I reset the trap, mate, “ he greets cheerfully, but Grian feels too stunned to speak.

Why is Mumbo here? Why?

A multitude of emotions crash into Grian’s chest at the sight of his best friend. Relief, horror, guilt. They each roll over him, loud and vicious as they threaten to overwhelm him. He can’t look away from the man, the feeling of confusion holding his head above water.

(“Do you think Mumbo would be proud?” The question had been half nonchalant as the pair ran through the desert, digging deep underground. The true meaning of the question was a secret, one between only himself and Scar.

Scar paused to consider it. He had lifted a finger to his chin as he thought, “Oh! Mumbo would be crying from happiness!”

“Be honest with me.” Grian had said.

Scar hadn’t been.)

Standing in front of the man, Grian does not share the thought. Not after the blood staining his hands. And isn’t that ironic? In a game where your aim is to kill and survive, he feels guilty over killing. But maybe that’s because of who his final kill was. Because of how it all ended. Grian had hoped he’d never have to face Mumbo after that, but apparently fate had other plans.

“Speaking of getting here early,” Martyn’s voice cuts through the fog of confusion settling over Grian’s mind, causing him to look over at the other. Grian forces his gaze away from Mumbo with a painful pang, meeting Martyn’s eyes, “I see you’ve gone and scored another life on your way back from Scar’s.” He wiggles his brows.

Just hearing Scar’s name causes Grian’s stomach to curl with grief, “W-What?” he asks, the shock of Martyn’s statement sending him back a small step.

“Don’t you try and fool me, G, the last time we saw you you were on yellow life. And now you’re green!” Martyn points at his wrist, and naturally, Grian’s gaze follows.

His heart squeezes uncomfortably tight as he sees the familiar line of hearts down his wrist. There’s three hearts on his wrist, green, yellow, and red. Nausea rolls over him like a blanket, wrapping around him and tightening around his neck. He feels sick. Why? Why?! He thought he was done with all of this! Was killing Scar not enough? Was winning an empty, meaningless victory not enough?!

Is this his punishment? Or some sick kind of joke?!

He clenches his fists, watching the way they shake from how tightly he clenches them. Burning hot anger runs through him like lava, melting his insides. The warmth goes from top to bottom, engulfing him in an angry, vicious flame. He feels too much, yet too little all at once. He wants to scream. To cry. Maybe break something, or blow something up. Blood is pumping in his ears; his heart feels like it’s going to burst.

This isn’t the afterlife. This is hell.

“Grian?” Mumbo’s gentle, concerned voice breaks through the anger threatening to overtake him like a light. The sound of his voice snaps him from his spiraling thoughts, and he notices how his fingers dig uncomfortably into his skin. As if his nails can break the hearts on his wrist, shatter them. He lets go instantly, seeing angry red lines left behind.

Lifting his gaze, Grian sees four pairs of eyes watching him. Yet the only eyes he focuses on are Mumbo’s, it’s been so long since he’s seen the man. His presence is normally a comfort for Grian, something grounding. But right now, all Grian feels is conflict. His grief and guilt is suffocating, and Mumbo’s presence does little to help that feeling. Mumbo looks at him with nothing but concern and kindness, with the way his eyebrows dip and lower, a worried frown marring his face.

Mumbo takes a step closer, hand reaching out to him, “You alright, mate?” Looking down, Grian sees the man’s wrist. Four hearts go down his wrist in a line. Two of them are already gone, looking faded and cracked. The sight of the hearts on his wrist sends his stomach dropping, heart lodging in his throat.

Grian recoils from his outstretched hand as if it were a weapon, and Mumbo freezes in place. He pulls his hand back. His face falls, and Grian pretends he doesn’t see.

“I’m fine.” Grian hastily replies, ignoring the burst of pain in his chest. He scans the people around him. Mumbo, Impulse, Jimmy, and… Martyn. He takes a breath. So he’s stuck in another life game. Great. And it looks like these four are his… alliance.

A sudden thought strikes him. If those four are here then… who else is here?

His communicator pings, and he pulls it up, heart still firmly lodged in his throat.

<GoodTimeWithScar> oh team BEST~

<GoodTimeWithScar> A wizard *never* forgets his promise.

If seeing Mumbo made him sick, then seeing Scar’s message in chat plunges him into freezing cold water. Scar’s name is red (of course it is), and it sends nostalgia and grief tearing through him all at once. Everything suddenly feels like it’s too much, his head swimming. He stumbles slightly, nearly falling if it hadn’t been for Jimmy taking hold of him. “Seriously, you alright?” Jimmy questions, and Grian… Grian doesn’t know.

All he can think about is his final moments with Scar leading up to that stupid duel. The splashing of water below him as he jumped down to meet him in that shallow pond.

“Betrayer!” he had screamed.

Well look who’s laughing now.

Grian had thought about it very briefly, in his final moments, what it’d be like if he ever met Scar again. He had wondered if Scar would scorn him, or if Scar would pull him into his arms and congratulate him on a battle well fought. He had also considered keeping his distance, as far away as possible, as to never hurt Scar again.

And yet, just as usual, his heart never listens to his brain.

Because as he looks at his communicator, watching the others reply in chat, his eyes only focus on Scar’s name. There’s a part of him, a very deep part within, that cries out for him. It sees Scar’s name, and it reaches. It reaches far and wide, and it doesn’t concern itself with the logical side of Grian’s brain. No, it simply sees the fact that Scar is clearly alive and well and it wants to run right toward him.

Seeing Scar’s name makes Grian’s chest ache with a deep yearning that he knows can never be satisfied. There is an ache in him that he knows will only continue to eat away at himself, until he is rotting and reaching. His soul is crying, begging for Scar at his side, and though Grian knows that he will only be the catalyst to Scar’s ultimate demise, he is weak to the pull of his emotions.

Grian’s other half is alive! He is alive and that part of Grian feels incomplete without him. Empty. His heart aches at the thought of being with Scar again, of being able to give him the apology he deserves. Just the thought of being able to apologize to him is enough to break Grian down.

“S-Scar,” he stammers, completely forgetting that Jimmy even asked him a question. “He’s – I have to get to him,” he says, turning to the others.

He’s met with varying expressions of confusion, though it’s Impulse who says something, “Didn’t you already bring him his stuff after he died?” he questions, and Grian quickly shakes his head.

“No I just – where is he? I-I need to see him, I–” he stammers, thoughts running far too quickly for him to actually think coherently.

“Up north dude, where he always is.” Martyn replies, though he’s looking at Grian with… something. If he weren’t so distracted by the thought of Scar, he’d probably look closer into that. However, distraction is the card he’s been dealt, and he lets it play. He spins on his heel for the exit, walking briskly with purpose. “Make sure he doesn’t kill you!” Martyn calls after him, “Remember the guy’s on red!"

Grian knows he won’t.

-----------------

If Grian is being honest with himself, he probably should have put more thought into this. He didn’t even come here with a plan! He had just heard that Scar was north, so north is where he went. He was moving too fast for his brain to actually catch up.

It was a bit of a journey, getting from the cobbled towers (the Southlanders, his mind supplies) to the big mountain in the north. But the second he saw the hut on top of the mountain, he knew exactly who lived there.

Maybe what made the journey so difficult was the thoughts that accompanied him.

Grian won’t say that he ran to Scar’s — because he didn’t. Not really. He had walked. And his thoughts consumed him with every step.

He’s stuck in another life game. Scar is here. Mumbo is here. He doesn’t know what it means. This game isn’t Third Life, he knows that much. His mind is scrambling, trying to come up with some kind of plan. A strategy. He’s trying to lay out a safety net for himself but he should’ve known from the start it’d be pointless.

There are no safety nets in a game of death. There are no “plans”, despite how badly Grian may want to use one. He learned in Third Life that plans don’t work, even the most carefully planned strategy blows up in his face. It won’t stop him though. A plan gives him something to fall back on, a faux comfort.

A plan keeps him from running headfirst into danger, a plan keeps him alive.

Which is why he probably should’ve come up with a plan before going to Scar. He doesn’t know what kind of state the man will be in. He isn’t sure how to even approach a reunion with him. It’s obvious that he’s in some kind of… who even knows where. Obviously his friends all know him here, but he isn’t sure if they remember him. Who he is. What he’s done. What they’ve all done.

It doesn’t help that he’s apparently been dropped right in the middle of this new game.

He doesn’t know how to handle an approach to Scar. Hug him? Smack him? Ask him if he knows who he is? A no on that last one, Jimmy and the others have already answered that. Besides, Grian isn’t sure if he could handle Scar looking at him like Grian was a stranger in every sense of the word except the literal one.

He settles on just seeing what happens. Sometimes no plan is the best plan!

But just — not in a death game.

His thoughts trail off as he approaches the bottom of the mountain, and he looks up. He grimaces as he gets a clearer view of the hut up top, sighing. “Of course Scar had to put his base in the most precarious spot ever,” he grumbles before beginning to make his way up the mountain. He makes sure to be careful with each step, keeping himself aware of where he’s stepping.

When he makes it to the top of the mountain, he’s rather out of breath, chest heaving from exertion. This mountain is a lot bigger than the one back in the desert. But he reaches the top, and is face to face with a hut made of wood and dark stone. The roof on top looks like a wizard’s hat, and Grian can’t help his fond huff.

He focuses his gaze on the entryway, finding it wide open. This is it. Scar is beyond that doorway. Grian’s hands shake just at the thought of seeing him again. Anxiety runs through his blood like water, filling him completely. His heart picks up, beating against his ribcage. He swallows thickly.

A small part of him wants to run away. A small part of him wants to turn around and head right back down the mountain and forget that he even came here. A small part of him is afraid to look Scar in the eyes. It makes him feel like a coward.

And yet despite that small part of him, Grian walks forward.

He walks right into the hut, and promptly stops. Right in front of him is none other than Scar. He’s digging around in a barrel, humming to himself. Grian isn’t sure what the tune is, or where it’s from, but the scene feels familiar. His chest aches.

“Scar?” he says, causing the man to yell out.

He jumps up in surprise, letting out the typical fearful scream he does whenever he’s snuck up on. It makes Grian smile softly, and god he misses this man. Scar spins around on his heels, turning to look at Grian. Grian gets a good look at his eyes, and he sees a dark red haze swirling in them. There is not a hint of warmth in his eyes, no kind of recollection or even joy at seeing him. Grian isn’t sure what he sees in Scar’s eyes, but he knows that there is anger in them. Bloodlust.

(He thinks he might see hatred. And that is a thought that shakes him right to his core. He does not want to live in a world where Scar hates him, even if it is justified. Does that make him selfish?)

“Oh, Grian,” Scar eventually says, and his voice is cold. Empty. He takes a step forward, something whimsical about his footing. Scar is dressed in dark robes, stark white hair peeking out from underneath. “If you’re here to nab another life from me, Grian, I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. There is a promise of a threat in his voice.

Grian frowns at that, chest panging. “I’m not interested in your life, Scar,” he says matter of factly. He’s already taken one (two, if his guilt counts the creeper), he doesn’t want another one.

A laugh spills from Scar, something lacking any real humor. “Oh, don’t you play with me!” he exclaims, voice sharp and angular. The sound of it causes Grian to jolt in surprise. “You can fool me once or twice! Or…” he trails off, thinking. “Three times, whatever, it doesn’t matter!”

“Scar…” Grian says, and he quickly realizes that he probably should’ve prepared himself a bit more. He lets the other approach him. There’s something different about him compared to Third Life. Something bitter, cynical. Grian isn’t sure if it’s because of the nature of this new game, or if it’s simply because Scar is on red.

“No, Grian!” Scar exclaims, reaching for his diamond sword. “You know, I was planning on hitting Team BEST first, give ‘em a real good thrashing. Send a message and all that! Can’t mess with ol’ Scar! Not anymore, no sir!” He takes another step toward Grian.

It’s the instinct of green life, Grian knows, that has him backing away slowly. He takes a few tiny steps backwards.

Scar looks at him, something angry and hurt in his gaze, “But I think you’ll make a good first message to the masses. You were the first to take advantage of me, after all.”

Grian’s back slams into the wall behind him, crushing his wings. He cringes at the feeling, but he doesn’t move. Scar is cornering him, holding the blade to his throat. He easily towers over Grian, putting just enough pressure on his sword to spill a bit of blood.

Looking at him, Grian doesn’t see a hint of the Scar he once knew. He isn’t quite sure what’s going on here, what the Grian of this game has done to wrong Scar, but what he does know is this.

He killed Scar.

And the hatred in Scar’s eyes isn’t misplaced or even misdirected.

He doesn’t fight back against the blade on his throat, the blade that is spilling his blood. He simply stands there and meets Scar’s hazy red eyes. To Grian, he thinks this is good retribution for the cactus ring. He sees no point in fighting against Scar when this is something he believes he deserves.

Yet Scar thinks otherwise.

See, he had expected a lot out of today. He’s on red now, and he had a goal in mind. He was going to make everyone on this forsaken server regret thinking they could just use Scar as they please. He was going to start with BEST, and then work his way to the others. But then Grian just came waltzing in like they were old buddies and Scar wasn’t going to let a golden opportunity slip past him.

He has a whole separate issue with Grian, after all.

But as he stares into Grian’s eyes, he sees something odd. Firstly he stares up at Scar with blatant confusion and hurt. It makes him want to laugh. What does Grian possibly have to be hurt over?

Though that isn’t what makes him pause. No, what makes him truly falter is the guilt he sees in Grian’s eyes.

He observes the green life in front of him (Wasn’t Grian yellow? Did he swindle someone else out of a life?) and notices that there’s no fight. Grian isn’t pushing back against him. He’s not arguing or drawing his own weapon. Not even as Scar draws blood and pushes the blade harder.

Suddenly the appeal of killing Grian leaves him. What fun is a kill that rolls over and exposes their weak point?

Scar scoffs at him before making up his mind and taking a step back. So much for that perfect message in chat. Looks like Team BEST is back as his number one target. He lowers his sword completely.

Grian watches him with confusion, “Scar?”

The red life meets his gaze, a deep frown settling on his lips. “Who are you?”

#scarian #trafficshipping #third life smp #last life smp #last life au #mochi writes #I really want to get back to writing this one omg #once I'm on summer break.....#anyways! third life my beloved #cannot believe it's two years old #I wasn't around at the start but I'm here now and AUGH

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yonemurishiroku · 1 year

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oooh now im intrigued… what part about percy’s character / actions did you not like? (in response to a previous ask you got)

i never really found anything that i disliked in percy but i did read the books a lot younger than i am now so i def didnt pick up on a lot of things

Hi isa! Before I say anything dumb, I just want you to know that I love you with everything in me and the fact that I left your ask in the mailbox for 7 months and a half does not negate that. I'm an awful terrible human being but my love is real. 🥺🥺

Ok. So. Obviously, I'm trying to justify myself here but like I've spent half a year marinating on this and seriously? this is really hard to tell. Not because I'm scared or anything, but more like I don't know how to word it the right way, and I fear I'd just dig myself a hole (ok, I'm scared).

If you're asking me, what part of Percy's character/actions I didn't like?, well the first and foremost would obviously be that time he strangled Nico. For the obvious reason.

Now, before anyone decides to come up to me with a Percy-defending speech, I'm NOT saying Percy's in the wrong (Well actually yes. They are BOTH wrong and they're BOTH justified - if you were to ask me, but that's another can of worms I don't want to open).

Percy did nothing wrong - no, he didn't - but I just so happen to love Nico di Angelo more than myself. And what Percy did that time displeased me - isa pls understand he hurt my blorbo 😭- of course I wouldn't think highly of him.

And that time Jason thought badly of Nico from hearing Percy's words.

And the fact that he's the reason Nico antagonized himself - which is TOTALLY NOT Percy's fault, I know - but I'm subjective.

(And that time in the birthday message board (wtf Percy?) - but that's new, so we'll just leave it there)

It's all there is about this, actually. The reason I dislike Percy is: I'm subjective, selfish, unreasonable, and hopelessly blinded when it comes to my love for the blorbos - in this case, Nico (and Luke, in some cases...). Did Percy do anything wrong? Debatable. But because Nico is my beloved son, so when it comes down to either Nico or Percy, I would always take Nico's side.

It's more like... a series of actions accumulated throughout the books that brought me to this point of prejudice, I guess... I've forgotten most of them, tbh, it's been a while, so I can hardly come up with specific details that spiked my disinterest. Just little things, I'm sure - but when all is said and done, he's the first character I just know I might as well stay away should I want to preserve my interest in the books themselves.

I'm sorry if this answer doesn't satisfy you, but this is all the coherent thoughts I can form about this... 😭

Another main reason why I can't bring myself to love Percy is, well technically not even his fault.

I don't like his perfection.

No, Percy isn't perfect. I'm talking about how Rick and the fandom tend to... perfect him?

As in: he's too OP. He's the protagonist, of course he's OP. And that's why I usually don't like protagonists. They're too perfect. Everything they do is right. They're praised and loved. Their sufferings were rewarded by glory and adoration. The fandom worships them. They are the best just because they happen to be in the spotlight.

It's like... a cage to me, I think? I prefer the conflictions, the paradox in which I'm free to expand my thoughts in various ways (again, Luke. and Octavian and Jason, for that matter). Percy is too much of a protagonist for me.

Besides, the fandom already loves Percy enough as it is, there's no harm if I don't, right? Is it jealousy? I honestly don't know. I just feel like I should be able to dislike someone just because I feel like it. I'm a creature of love and spite. I can hate just as easily as I love. It's not his fault, still there's no difference.

(Just in case you're wondering, But you do ship Percico? Yes, in fact, I don't hate the ship that much LOL. Pls don't ask why bc I don't know either... There're many times I enjoy Percy's humor, too!! And frankly? I don't know how you can categorize this, but the fact that I have a bunch of Break-Up fics planning to write and none of them is happy should say a lot about my taste for Percico in particular...)

That is to say, I try my best to be respectful when it comes to public fandom space. You would hardly see me badmouth Percy - or any character for that matter - because I tend to stay away from those for whom my tolerance is low. I'd hate it if I have to stir the pot, since I know there're people who love Percy more than themselves, too. There's no need to spoil others' fun.

Please, do understand that I'm NOT saying this to fault you for loving Percy. I'm saying this because I'm selfish, and my selfishness should only be mine to deal with, and that's absolutely NOT your fault nor Percy's fault for being disliked by someone petty like me.

With all due respect, cherish him. Love him the way I have come to love Nico. Because at the end of the day, they're not even real. We're all free to love and free to hate. Let us enjoy what we like best.

(and I'd always love you dear!!!)

#percy jackson #pjo #hoo #toa #yone rambling #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #percy hate #i dont even know if that tag exists i just feel like I should put it in there....#riordanverse

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freemindedspirit · 9 months

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I am not seeking any validation. I was wrongly portrayed by someone here. So I just wanted to make my stand clear. That's all. What would I gain by being acknowledged as his tf/fs. Nothing.. Nada.

I think it is a bit harsh to judge a person whom you haven't even met in real life. If being honest felt like I was trying to be a wanna be I don't know what to say.

Earlier I said I was feeling all angsty and heartbeat rising up. I took some time off. I needed some solitude to reevaluate my thoughts. Why would I hate a person who has no idea of my existence? The best thing to do is to detach. I felt better after that.

Everyone is reading only the parts they want to read. It is always the case. He is not even my type. I would rather have chosen Namjoon or yoongi who are actually my type if I wanted to "fantasise" as being a BTS fs . We don't even know if they will ever marry at all. So why JK? I am not someone to fall for all that grandiose.

I don't watch his lives nor his videos nor his interviews. Out of all the lives he has done I have seen maybe one ? Still you say I am obsessed with him. Tell me how?

Aww he is so good looking he sings so good he is good at everything, he is the heartthrob of millions of girls. Let me make him my fs. So that I get some leverage. U think this is the case for me?

Why would I want him as my fs. Is it money? I would rather use mine. I would only want things which I can afford. So pls. Is it the status he holds in society? Again no it is not it. Is it the looks, nope. I am sorry. Also pls don't ever fall for looks guys. It is not everything.

Do I spend hours looking at his photos or videos? again nope. Still there is some undeniable pull. I can't explain. Pls don't start picking me on it. I beg you.

I can't say if I have a connection to him unless I meet him right? I repeat I did not talk like yeah I am his tf what about it. I just wanted to write there (on YouTube) as a warning to other girls who might be having similar experiences to be wary of what they are experiencing and to be mindful and now I am a wanna be??

I don't care if the whole world is against me. If I am truthful to myself it is enough. To people still nitpicking on me I have nothing to say. Pls stop trying to portray someone as this and this when you don't actually know them in person. It is easier to point a finger.

On an ending note I will write a poem here

Can I love you?

Not for what you are;

Not for what you were;

Not for what you are going to be;

Can I love you

For just being you?

Oh! Let us rest for some time,

Letting go of all this chase,

On my mind all day;

Can't free myself from you,

You are the drug that keeps me high;

Baby you are my fantasy,

I am too drunk on your love.

It is a lame poem but I wanted to end this post on a good note. Bye!!

Why do you feel such a need to justify yourself anon ? If you wanted to talk privately with me i can answer not anonymous asks privately and my DMs are open.

The reason why people on the blog currently act about you as if you were a wannabe is because according to all the information you have given them anon, you are one. YOU are the one burying yourself deeper and deeper in your justifications. It would have been enough to just read my PSA silently. If you felt targeted that is between you and your conscience. If you are the person I think you are, i told you specifically what behaviors you had and why they would put you in danger. You chose to act dodgy again, not my problem. You chose to come here multiple times, to justify yourself for no reason, to expect emotional labor from strangers.

Im gonna repeat myself again, but i dont give a shit about what you think or dont think yourself as.I dont give a shit wether you are more attracted to jungkook or yoongi or namjoon. I DONT GIVE A SINGLE FUCK ABOUT YOUR YOUTUBE HISTORY EITHER.

What i care about is your actions. And what you did, anon, is repeatedly come into my asks box bc you felt targeted and wanted to justify yourseld repeatedly for things no one accused you of but your conscience. And if you are the person i think you are, your actions are trying to create "hints" inviting people to think you are jks fs, or at least a bts fs. Repeatedly. I warned you of the risk to be harassed or bullied, of falling into spiritual psychosis or obsession. All the cards are in your hands now.

I will not take this matter publicly anymore. You either come talk privately in my dms or I block you, but I will not play this public,guilty telephone game anymore.

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sleepytwilight · 2 years

Note

How would arcana twilight react to reader being mean towards their older siblings because theyre (mc) is the second choice in the family

Good one 🤔 I'm the oldest sister and my siblings tormented me so💀- anyway! Ahem 👹 [pls forgive me. Do not argue- I am oldest sister and yeah I used to be the first choice in family- and my siblings hated me so this is kinda my perspective 💀]

Arcana Twilight Characters meeting your older sibling in mid-eartheim. You treat your older sibling coldly while your older sibling treat you kindly

Arcturus will try to understand your reason. He get along with everyone so he will get along with your older sibling and try to get you and your older sibling have a good terms :>. Though, he found out the reason why you being cold towards your older sibling but that doesn't justify your actions, so he kinda sad about it. [probably going to put you and your oldest sibling in fake life danger so you guys can confess how much you cared for each other before die-]

Spica will be shocked. You are very kind to everyone in Neb Eula but seeing you being mean to your oldest sibling disappointed him a bit. He found out you're a second choice in family and he tried his best to understand, he doesn't take your side or your oldest sibling side. [He blames the parents-] of course he will comfort you and tells you that your actions is wrong-

Pollux [with shocked pikachu meme] will absolutely take your side- he used to be compared by his twin, Castor and your situation reminds him of that. It sad him that you act mean to your oldest sibling and advise you that you shouldn't act harshly to them.

Alpheratz really don't want to meddle into your family issues. He knows you have your own reasons to be mean toward your oldest sibling. He advised you to not hold grudge on your oldest sibling because it will just lead to pain. [he slapped the parents]

Sirius is amused. Rare to see you being mean to anyone else expect for him. It's entertaining to him that you can act differently especially to your own bloods. Tease you about your envy towards your oldest sibling and joking about the second choice child at you. [threatened your parents to treat you and your sibling equally-]

Vega being that awkward dude in the party- it surprised him on how you acted toward your oldest sibling. He lost his family along time ago and was raised by a sorcerer, seeing you acted mean to your oldest sibling make him having mixed feelings for you. After knowing you're a second choice in family, he still doesn't justify your actions. You should not care about people who made you be the second choice, focus on your own happiness and cut ties with your family! [he slaps your parents too]

[A/N: fun fact, I quiet don't understand the ask but eh-💀]

#arcana twilight #arcana twilight sirius #arcana twilight alpheratz #arcana twilight pollux #arcana twilight vega #arcana twilight arcturus #arcana twilight mc #request #arcana twilight castor #I hate castor

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redr0sewrites · 1 month

Note

“i no longer write for honkai star rail because of hoyoverse's actions, please don't request it“ what happened with hoyoverse? /gen

i dont rlly keep up in gen but ik genshin is problematic for a few reasons already, but yea, just curious :0

hi nonnie!!!! i haven't been keeping up with the fandom recently either so if anyone has any new information, pls feel free to reblog/comment to share it! here is all i know about the situation, and basically what happened:

in honkai star rail, a character called sparkle used a romani slur and mocked another character for being a sigonian, which is basically a fantasy race of people in the hsr universe. this was played off in the storyline almost like a joke, and was completely out of line for hoyoverse. this was yet another display of hoyoverse's racism and racist writing, except this was so blatant and obvious in the storyline that i literally just couldn't comprehend how people were still justifying it

the only real adressing of the issue that im aware of was when people claimed it was just a translation mistake bc the company apparently used a faulty ai website to translate, which seems sketchy af, but also the fact that they're using ai to translate in general when they're a large company is concerning in and of itself (this is just one thing i've heard, i looked into it as best i could so i believe it's accurate but hoyoverse hasn't made an official statement on it so please correct me if im wrong)

the overall racism within the game in general and the fact that they incorporated racism into the plot yet never truly resolved it is disappointing

and finally, the last reason i stopped, was the overall toxicity of some of the fans. there were so many people who were so genuinely racist about the situation and people who were defending hoyoverse from a very toxic standpoint, and i just didn't want to be involved anymore

hope this clears some things up!

#rose rambling #tysm for asking so kindly nonnie #some people have been... much different #praying to the lords i dont get anymore people coming into my inbox and yapping about how its not a big deal #or how it isnt hoyoverse's fault #etc etc #ick #requesting guidelines

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worstutfanonthingpoll · 10 months

Text

Hello haters!

Now if you know me you know I like two things:

HATING (and please don't call me an anti)

MAKING DISCORD SERVERS

So! I have decided to combine these two things

Now, some backstory:

(Spoiler warnings for Xtale)

Backstory~

I was coming back from holiday in Port U Gal (it was nice, other than the fact i burned to death a lot) and decided HEY! I DOWNLOADED THE LAST EPISODE OF XTALE TO WATCH ON THE PLANE! I SHOULD DO THAT!

Before this, I had slowly been dragging myself through xtale (adhd means i needed to spread it out). I liked it, other than the fact I had no idea what was going on 30% of the time. Anyway.

So I watched Xtale episode the last, and suddenly Sans was relevant despite only having about two speaking roles beforehand. And suddenly he and CharaFrisk were claiming to be besties. And suddenly FriskChara tried to make him kill them bc... it would force XGaster into reseting, weakening him (i think).

All of a sudden everyone's memories were back and they were about to kick XGaster's ass. WONDERFUL, thought me. THIS CUNT'S HAD IT COMING FOR TEN EPISODES. But then GUESS WHO SUDDENLY DEVELOPS MARY SUE SUPERPOWERS AND DESTROYS THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, BECAUSE... I genuinely do not know.

Did he feel CharaFrisk betrayed him by overwriting him? Maybe, but I think their actions were justified. They didn't see any other way out and they genuinely thought sans would be willing to help bc theyre besties for some reason.

Did he feel for Gaster bc he raised him? Valid enough, but if that's the case why did Papyrus (who was also raised by XGaster), Mr Spare a Genocidal Maniac, join the Gaster torture?

And again, WHY WAS HE THAT OP? There is no explanation for where those powers came from and I think that it is ridiculous he destroyed everyone and everything with full control over his powers, and then had the gall to wail about it. Like dude. No one was forcing you to do that?? Jeez.

And then Ink, who somehow failed to notice the Ten Variations of Hell Gaster created despite multiversal watch being his LITERAL JOB, comes in like. Oh! Hi sans variant in a destroyed universe! You're invited to the main plotline now! ;D

Wow.

Nothing against Ink, but according to the poll runner server, Ink's inaction is kind of a thing that happens a lot in Underverse. Rip.

End of Backstory~

(Please don't hate on me if you like Cr#ss. If you are a fan of him, good on you! Enjoy the pleathora of fanon content, and feel free to block me. Just no hate pls)

To sum it up, I think Cr○ss Sans sucks but there is nothing on tumblr or ao3 or anywhere agreeing with me

So! I am starting a Cr♡ss Hate Club™ where we complain about him and make that hater content we've been craving, including shipping him with TECtale Sans (an oc of mine who is kind of the worst) and creating the "Cr□ss Sans is a Jerk" tag on ao3 (if swapfell sans gets one, SO DOES CR%SS)

The hate club will be a discord server, the link to which doesn't even exist yet. This is mostly a post to see if people are interested. If not, and I'm right about everyone's undying love for him then that's okay! I'll delete the post and move on with my life.

If you're interested but fear hate, feel free to dm me. But if anyone dms to yell at me for not liking Cr0ss, you're getting blocked.

And remember:

Me saying I don't like someone or something doesn't mean I'm saying you're not allowed to enjoy it, because guess what? People are allowed to have opinions! If he is your fave, good for you! Just please please don't send me hate.

Hell, send me Cr☆ss centered fics that portray him positively if you like, its good for me to broaden my horizons and shit. Also I like the Nightmare's gang found family stuff lol.

Yeah that's pretty much it. Will censor Cr◇ss's name so it doesn't come up when searched.

@inksans-unofficial @worstutcanonthingpoll

#worst ut fanon thing poll #undertale #undertale aus #bashing #cr*ss s*ns #sans hate #would that count?#eh who knows #anti sans #that also???#idk man

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veenvss · 4 months

Text

night court

the family , 4/7

3 , day 5 , spring

The courts have always fascinated me but while reading and looking at the map I always thought that the worldbuilding was too rushed or too simplistic. So, I have decided to reimagine the courts in a way that makes more sense to me.

In an incredibly unpopular opinion, I don't like Rhys. He's a cool character but I just don't like how every action of his gets justified. He's just very icky to me. But alas, he's the High Lord of the Night Court, which is the next court alphabetically.

Now Rhys is a Welsh name and it's pronounced reece no matter what anyone says you ignorant -- and I, for one, am a big supporter on Welsh being taught in schools, so I'm going to be patriotic to the 1/8th of my blood which is Welsh.

GRUFFUDD GLYNDWR- "prince" I definitely took most of this name from Owain Glyndwr but it's not my fault that modern Welsh names are just "Evan Blevins". He's a violent man and a ruthless ruler. He slaughtered all of his human slaves out of the pettiness of being 'undermined' by the war. He was abusive to his wife and kids and treated them worse than his violent criminals. Many people held a secret celebration once the news of his death spread across the court.

ELUNED GLYNDWR- "idol" Unfortunately, due to her youth and her husband's influence, her "barbaric" native Illyrian name has been lost to the wind. The day she was married to the day she was murdered she was known as Eluned. Despite the constant aggression in her life, she was an incredibly sweet woman and cared deeply about children. She was often heard saying that everything she does is for her children. Although she would be devastated that her daughter was murdered, she would be glad knowing that she was there to hopefully grant some peace as she went.

FFION GLYNDWR- "foxglove" This is a newly created Welsh name but this is a fictional world. Ffion was a little foxglove. She looked so sweet and innocent but had a vicious temper. She demanded attention from many, and often received it. Despite that, she was a sweetheart. She loved to spend time with her mother and enjoyed sewing her own little dresses for her toys. Undoubtedly she was terrified when they got ambushed by that river, but as the last thing she felt was her mother's warm hand grasped around her, it made everything slightly better.

Canonically, Mor is Rhys' cousin so I'm going to include a short list for CoN.

Although Rhys is a Welsh name, Mor is Irish, and in Irish mythology, Morrigan was a goddess. Rhysand states that he grew up in Velaris so I'm gonna go out on a ridiculous hc here and state that due to the cultural differences, the names are different as well. This would work better if NC was Scottish based but unfortunately not and we have to make do with what we've got.

PADRAIG MOCHAIN- "nobleman" SEARLAIT MOCHAIN- "army" FAOLAN MOCHAIN- "little wolf" little note: i am just picking and choosing names by how i like the sound of them from a random naming website so a lot of these might be inaccurate and possibly (?) offensive (?) cause I am choosing not thinking of historical backgrounds (?) pls tell me if i am, because i genuinely don't mean to be.

#acotar #night court #rhysand #rhysand's mother #rhysand's sister

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