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nerevar-quote-and-star · 3 months

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Yet another wild crackship between my LDB and some Skyrim dumbo, but this time it's General Tullius, and it actually gets madder from there

Look, a lot of this surprised me too. It sure surprised @elder-dragon-reposes and yet it makes sense and that's the strange beauty of it

He could be forgiven for not seeing her at Helgen. Between Ulfric's capture and the following dragon attack, Tullius had his hands full with escaped prisoners and a town in ruins. Not to mention Elenwen's attempts to take over his execution. One half-elf caught in the crossfire was below his attention at the time. When she came into Castle Dour, a cold wind in her wake as she spoke about fire and death, he had no choice but to pay attention to her. Especially when she brought up things like "peace" and "ceasefire." This Last Dragonborn was out of her mind.

Yet somehow, she led him into an agreement to meet with the Stormcloaks at High Hrothgar.

Tullius isn't quite sure he likes that. She's as double-edged as any Thalmor diplomat with her words. As noble as her intentions appear on the surface, he's not sure he can trust her.

At High Hrothgar, the Last Dragonborn, Leara, leads both sides into an agreement where no one gets what they want, but no one is worse off, and she plans to trap a dragon in a castle.

She . . . plans to trap a dragon in a castle.

Tullius knows he was sent to Skyrim to tame the rebellion, but no one ever prepared him for how maddening the people of Skyrim were. No one is as maddening as the Nords' hero. Tullius cannot understand her. He's not sure he wants to, all things considered.

The Legate is amused by his consternation. He knows this even without her saying anything. But Tullius is worried. This Leara has the power to sway Skyrim in whatever way she chooses, and if she joins the Stormcloaks, then he has a feeling that the Empire might lose more than Skyrim before all is over.

He keeps an ear out for the Dragonborn's movements. His spy network throughout Skyrim is extensive: If she breathes in Windhelm's direction, if she says anything about the Civil War, then he'll need to be ready. This woman has slain dragons. He doesn't want to see what she'll do to a legion of mortal men. Tullius needs to be ready.

Tullius is not ready when Leara walks into Castle Dour again, armorless and prim as she waltzs into his war room. Legate Rikke greets her, but Tullius pretends to give half an ear. He looks like he's going through reports, but he's trying to keep an eye on the anomaly in the room.

Legate Rikke and the Dragonborn talk quietly together. And then the Dragonborn leaves and Tullius finally puts down his paperwork. Legate Rikke is frowning.

"What did she want?"

The Legate's attention snaps to him.

"She wanted to know about our support from Cyrodiil, sir." "Support?" "She mentioned your inability to negotiate a peace settlement, General."

Tullius recalled that. He'd told the Dragonborn he couldn't do more than accept Ulfric's surrender. But why did the Dragonborn want to know about the Imperials' ability to negotiate with the rebels? Didn't she already get her peace treaty and trap her dragon?

Tullius cannot wrap his head around her. Everything his spies have reported paints her as kindness. Even the coldest Nords seem to thaw around her. But Tullius can't base his understanding of such a power player like the Dragonborn on reports and a handful of interactions. He'd have to speak with her himself.

The Winking Skeever is busy when he steps in. A few heads turn, but otherwise, no one pays Tullius any particular attention. The Dragonborn isn't difficult to find, either: She's at a corner table with her nose buried in a dusty book.

Tullius makes his way over to her.

The Dragonborn is surprised to see him but still invites Tullius to sit at her table.

"I assume this is about my discussion with your legate earlier."

She's perceptive. But Tullius already knew that.

"Do you always discuss politics in a bar?"

At his question, the Dragonborn offers a little half-smile, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Do you?"

No. Honestly, Tullius couldn't recall the last tie he even visited a bar or tavern other than while traveling. Perhaps he was working too late, but between the Civil War, Elenwen, the dragons, and (maybe) the Dragonborn, he couldn't afford to slack off. Why else would Tullius chase the Dragonborn down to the local inn?

"Have you read much about Skyrim?"

Her question surprises him.

"War commentaries mostly. Military history."

The nod of her precise head is measured as if she expected that response. Marking her page, she closes her book and shows him the cover. It's some thick tome he's never heard of, but the knotwork dragon design around the edges breathes of old Nordic craftsmanship.

"As Dragonborn . . . [she pauses for a long moment] . . . As Dragonborn, I am highly invested in the preservation of the Empire and Skyrim."

She chews her lip.

Tullius almost asks if she's about to join the Legion. He can't deny that he'd hoped that would be her ultimate decision, but sitting here across from the Dragonborn as she was now, deliberating over words and tapping her book's cover, Tullius knew she wasn't about to swear fealty to the Emperor.

When she continues, she speaks slowly.

"General Tullius, would you be willing to help me? I need to reach out to people in the Imperial City about a peace summit, and I don't know where to begin."

A peace summit?

"I take it Ulfric didn't put you up to this?"

Her frown is surprising.

"No, he didn't. I asked him."

The Dragonborn asked Ulfric if she could talk to the Empire about a peace summit?

Before he could ask what in Oblivion that was supposed to mean, the server brought a tea service to the table. Just as quickly, he was gone.

"Would you care for a cup, General? I'm afraid all they have is lavender honey." "I . . . would like that--" "Leara."

She supplied. Her lips quirked.

So Tullius found himself ensconced at a table in The Winking Skeever and discussing different politicians and diplomats back in the Imperial City with the Dragonborn – Leara. He's halfway through his second cup when she admits that she's trying to find a peaceful resolution to the Civil War that could please everyone. He calls her a hopeful idiot, but she smiles.

"You can't please everyone." "Well, I don't think I can please the Dominion, but I can tie them in legal knots."

Leara wiggles her fingers at him, her rings glittering in the candlelight, and Tullius finds himself speechless.

If the Dragonborn – Leara – can tie the Thalmor up with a loophole, how imminent would their retaliation be? Tullius is at once intrigued and put off.

She was mad.

"Here, you'll want to write . . ."

But by the Divines, he was going to help her anyway, wasn't he? If Leara could talk Ulfric off his warpath, then maybe there was something to her hair-brained scheme.

Tullius sees Leara a few days later. She's been to the Blue Palace and the Bards College, she tells him when he meets her again at the 'Skeever. She's combing through maps and treaties, drafting letters, and making lists. Her mind is running at speeds Tullius can't comprehend, and yet she keeps looking to him for advice.

As Leara stirs a lump of sugar into her snowberry spice tea and peruses another list, Tullius wonders if she did this with Ulfric when she went to ask him to consider peace.

Her penmanship is as poised as the rest of her. He cannot see her against the harsh stony backdrop of Windhelm, amidst the snow and vitriol. She's too civilized for Skyrim. She's almost too civilized for Cyrodiil, but Tullius won't think of that.

He doesn't have a chance to give it much thought anyway when she's asking him about neutrality and the terms of the Concordat.

It's late when Tullius leaves her the second time. As he leaves, she's carrying a stack of papers upstairs. She has a hopeful lift in her step.

Tullius almost smiles.

Almost.

The next morning, Legate Rikke drops a new report on his desk. It's from Captain Aldis.

"What's this, Legate?" "There was a break-in, sir." "And we're concerned with this, because?"

Legate Rikke's jaw tightens, her eyes are wide. Whatever it is has unsettled her.

"It was at The Winking Skeever."

She sighs. Heavy. It's a familiar frustration.

"General, I believe that the Thalmor were exercising their Concordat-given rights."

A pit settles in Tullius's stomach.

"They took the Dragonborn, sir." "On what grounds?" "It doesn't say. sir. It doesn't even mention the Thalmor at all. But you know–"

Tullius doesn't hear the rest of the sentence because he realizes his mistake. He should never have discussed the possibility of an armistice with Leara in a public room. Who overheard her? Who saw Leara's notes and lists and books? Who ratted her out to the Thalmor?

Tullius's fist clenches, his knuckles pale. The one person with a Divine's chance in Oblivion to bring a favorable resolution to the Civil War and the Thalmor took her like every Talos worshipper the Empire was supposed to turn a blind eye too.

He paces around his office. Legate Rikke has left him alone, and now all Tullius can do is think and walk. Turn. Think and walk. Turn. The cycle repeats throughout his office. He only suspects that the Thalmor took Leara. Without concrete proof, he can't accuse them or he'll risk something far more uncomfortable than paperwork. But if he does nothing, then every hope for peace in Skyrim vanishes in the Dragonborn's wake.

Tullius stopped in the middle of his office, standing at a crossroads. Was it possible to ascertain that the Thalmoor abducted Leara and to request her freedom without bringing Elenwen down on his head? Probably not. But . . .

Tullius recalled the wide eyes, the fear swimming in the teary blue when Leara was faced with Elenwen at High Hrothgar. At the time, Tullius didn't think much of the Dragonborn's aversion to her. Most people hated the Thalmor Ambassador on a good day. But the terror that flickered in Leara's face before she grew cold and distant and manipulated the entire table to her own ends came back to him.

No, Tullius knew Elenwen personally had the Dragonborn. There was a history there he couldn't see, but it peeked at the edges of his vision in brilliant horror.

Elenwen had Leara, and she wouldn't let the half-elf go lightly.

If Leara could cheat an entire room of warring politicians and soldiers while ensuring a truce, then Tullius could sure as Hell try to manipulate Elenwen.

Sitting at his desk, the General ruled out any official Legion channels. Those would be tied back to him and ruin any chance Leara had of negotiating her armistice. Something under the table, then.

Mercenaries were messy. Robbing Elenwen would take a different hand. He grimaces and drafts a letter.

General . . .

The messenger hawk returns the next evening. Tullius doesn't want to think about why the hawk returned so quickly. He just hoped his charade would hold.

(Writing Galmar Stone-Fist of all people to encourage a Stormcloak raid on Northwatch Keep was something Tullius knew he could never live down if it got back to any of his superiors in Cyrodiil. He couldn't trust that General Stone-Fist would take an anonymous tip at face value, but as Leara soliloquised late that last night,)

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

It's four long days of giving only half his attention to his job before an Imperial scout reports that the Stormcloaks attacked the Thalmor fortress of Northwatch. When the Legion got there, nothing was left but smoldering ruins.

"They had a dragon, sir."

Tullius didn't want to know how they had a dragon, but he was optimistic that it meant Leara made it out of there alive.

With the Stormcloaks, but alive.

He sleeps through the night for the first time in over a week. When Tullius wakes up, he wonders how he could turn to the rebels to save the Dragonborn. Effective, yes, but it went against everything he was supposed to represent.

But she's alive.

She would be dead or worse off if he hadn't done it.

Tullius uses that thought to bolster himself through the coming weeks.

Then, a letter addressed to Tullius comes by way of Whiterun of all places. He recognizes the slender script curling his name across the paper. It's a short letter asking him to retrieve her belongings from her room at the 'Skeever. Two things stand out to him: The first is the thank you. Tullius cannot tell what Leara means by it because he knows that Stone-Fist didn't know who sent the tip about Northwatch. And yet there's a tearstain on the parchment, small and alone as if any others were quickly dashed away after the first one fell. The second is that all her books, papers, the things she worked on for her peace talk were all hidden in a panel behind the bookshelf in her boardroom.

Tullius didn't even think of Leara losing all her work. He was more concerned about getting her out. He was more worried about her than anything else.

Tullius buries his face in his hands.

This was a familiar feeling. It'd been years since the last time he felt like this.

Although, Tullius gave himself a wry smile, he doubted he'd have betrayed the Empire for the Countess of Anvil's cousin.

Tullius goes early the next morning to retrieve Leara's things, hidden or otherwise. A member of his spy network is tasked with getting the parcels to a Lydia in Whiterun. Then Tullius watches as every connection he has to the Dragonborn disappears out the doors of Castle Dour.

It's back to the everyday humdrum of war, then.

Until, some months later, a familiar half-elf comes into Solitude. Now, she's accompanied by a dark-haired Nord woman in heavy armor. Her stormy expression and hawkish eyes remind Tullius of Rikke at times. Leara introduces her as Lydia, her housecarl. Then Leara is handing him a folio of papers.

"I've been corresponding with some of the Elder Council. I'm planning a summit in Whiterun."

He takes the folio from her.

"What's this?" "My draft for a permanent peace treaty. I thought that since you helped me, you'd like to peruse it. Of course, I need to get it to Jarl Elisif when you're finished."

That Leara is offering to let him be a part of her peace treaty isn't lost on Tullius. He sets the folio on the table but leaves his hand on top, protecting it.

"I can come back for it tomorrow." "I'll get it back to you tonight."

Legate Rikke coughs, obviously. Tullius adds,

". . . we can discuss it over dinner, if you like?"

Leara's smile is full.

"I would like that."

They don't end up talking much about the draft. But Tullius gives Leara some of his favorite brandy after their dinner of roast lamb and stewed vegetables. Her giggle is light and airy, and her hand is cool like spring water when he takes it across the table.

Perhaps he drank more than he should have, but liquid courage was a reassuring friend.

At the end of the night, Leara, tipsy and yet all grace, presses a petal soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. She pulls away.

His hands slide up her arms, callused fingers catching on the soft linen of her sleeves. And he pulls her back and kisses her, full and properly on the mouth.

Leara tastes of tea and winter and something floral and frosted. There's more than magic in her mouth – there's music and mercy. If Tullius wasn't drunk before, he finds himself intoxicated on Leara.

She strokes his face, smiling, always smiling, and then backs away. Her eyes are bright and liquid and as deep as Lake Rumare. In the low glow of golden orange firelight, she is beautiful.

He loves her.

He doesn't say it, and soon she's gone, slipping through doors into the night. An angel passing from the room.

The next day, he finds that she left him her address. It had been a long time since Tullius even tried to write a love letter. They were never his strong suit, but Leara had a way of inspiring madness in him. He wrote her.

And Leara wrote him back.

Again and again and again.

Tullius doesn't expect for his presence to be needed when the summit is called in Whiterun. The Empire has its own group of delegates to negotiate the terms of Skyrim's division. But still, Elisif the Fair says that General Tullius has been asked to attend. The young queen seems as if she can't quite believe it, but she was often wide-eyed and overwhelmed as it was.

(Maybe Julia was right. He should listen to Elisif more. But pretty soon, it was likely Tullius would never see the Queen of Solitude again.)

Leara is there in Whiterun, laying out the terms of the Armistice with the light and delicacy he'd come to expect from her. How many others here knew she was anxious that things would crumble apart, that things would come to blows, and that the war would escalate for all her efforts to temper the fire?

Ulfric's face is a dark stormcloud, but somehow the Jarl of Windhelm appears to hold his tongue around the Dragonborn. He watches her, defers to her, and in return, Leara smiles at him.

Tullius is simply in an advisory position for the Imperial delegates to mine information on the state of the Civil War and the Imperial Legion. He never speaks to Ulfric, and seldom to Leara during the weeklong summit. But he sees the Jarl speak to her between sessions. Leara is quiet and nods. Her eyes are faraway and thoughtful.

Tullius remembers that when she first brought the idea of the summit to him, Leara mentioned that she convinced Ulfric to agree to it. For the first time, Tullius wonders how Leara went about winning Ulfric Stormcloak to her side.

His chest burns.

When the Armistice is signed and Skyrim divided in two–

"Divided, you can finally be united."

Leara said.

–there is a feast. Leara is in demand all night. Tullius watches from the sidelines, some Cyrodilic brandy in hand as he watches one person after another flit around her, bees buzzing around a blooming rose. After a while, Tullius gets up and retires to the quiet of the Dragonsreach porch.

He isn't out there long when the doors open again. From the dark stairwell where he sat, he saw Leara flit by, orbited by Ulfric.

Tullius's hand tightened on his glass.

"You must be relieved that's over." "I'm glad we could reach a resolution."

She deflected Ulfric's concern with a wave of her hand.

But Tullius knew the truth: She was terrified of the summit. She was terrified she'd fail.

"What will you do now?"

Leara's question broke through Tullius's thoughts.

Ulfric shifted.

"There's much to do. Skyrim hasn't been in a state like this since the Second Era. I'll need to work quickly to bring stability to the east before we can truly reap any of tonight's rewards." "You have a busy schedule, Jarl Ulfric! [her laugh is musical] Even when my work ends, you still have so much to do!" "Leara . . ."

There's a hesitation in Ulfric's voice that Tullius never would have imagined from the man who Shouted High King Torygg apart. Leara's responding,

"Yes, Ulfric?"

is careful.

"I was hoping that you would come to Windhelm with me. To help me." "Help you? As an advisor? Certainly, but–" "Not as an advisor. Not . . . as you're thinking. Leara, surely you must know what I feel for you." "Oh."

If Tullius didn't fear being caught, he'd have stormed from the porch. Or over to Ulfric and pushed him off. Or something. His blood was rushing in his ears.

Certainly, he and Leara hadn't truly defined what it was between them. This week was the first time he'd seen her since kissing her that night in Solitude, and in this week, they'd hardly been alone together long enough to discuss anything beyond the summit and the usual pleasantries.

But her letters were candid and funny and full of ideas. Her mind spilled across the page in curling and shifting lines.

Tullius knew then that while he had Leara's mind, there was every possibility that Ulfric had her heart. She was as divided as Skyrim was.

"Ulfric–" "While Skyrim was at war, I knew I couldn't give you the attention you deserved. But now that we can have some peace, I wish to ask you for your hand. Leara, you ignite a fire in my chest that burns my heart when you are near. Please do me the honor of agreeing to marry me."

There's silence. Long, drawn-out silence. Somewhere on the plains, a wolf howls. Its cry echoes the pain in Tullius's chest.

"Ulfric . . ."

Leara's voice is choked, emotional but she is forcing it down.

"Ulfric, you're very dear to me, but I can't marry you."

It was only Ulfric's loud,

"You can't? Why?"

That covered the sound of Tullius's brandy glass slipping to shatter on the stone stairs.

Leara hesitated.

"I can't give you my heart because it belongs to someone else. I can't take it back." "Who?"

Leara quieted.

"Please, Leara, if you won't marry me, then allow me the courtesy of knowing who I lost you to!" "I–"

Leara choked.

Tullius's heart sped up as his hands shook. He was as anxious as Ulfric to hear her answer.

"You won't like it." "Who is it? Galmar? I know he was the one to pull you from that Thalmor pit."

Divines. That would just be the cherry on top of this entire fiasco, wouldn't it?

"No, not . . . It's . . . General Tullius."

The silence that followed was more deafening than any that proceeded it. Even from the darkened stairwell, Tullius could since the thunder around Ulfric, rumbling silent and yet violent.

"You won't marry me because you're in love with Tullius?" "If that's how you want to put it, yes, that's it." "Leara – I, he . . ."

For once, all of Ulfric's fine speeches seemed to fail him.

"Please don't be upset."

Leara's voice is as soothing as the first spring rain, as far apart from Ulfric's hurricane as possible.

There was a rustle of skirts.

"You are a very important person to me, for more than you can possibly know, but I can't give you the love you want. It's not mine to give you." "But Tullius–" "Has been so vital to me during these last several months. We would not have this peace if not for him. I needed him." "I need you." "I know, but I've given you all I can. I can't give you any more."

Tullius peeks around the corner far enough to see Leara on her tiptoes. She whispers something in Ulfric's ear, then presses a fleeting kiss to his cheek. Tullius ducks back just in time to be hidden as Ulfric turns and leaves the porch. The doors shut behind him with a whisper of finality.

"You can come out now, General."

Tullius's knees are stiff as he gets up from the steps. Leara is waiting for him in the middle of the porch, her red hair a dark contrast against the white gold of her skin and the pale ivory of her gown. She's aetheric in the moon and aurora lights.

"I hope you finished your brandy before the glass fell."

His neck grows warm with embarrassment.

"Is that how you knew I was there?"

Leara's coy smile was her only answer. Yes, then. Well.

"Ulfric Stormcloak proposed to you." "Yes, he did." "And you turned him down." "Yes, I did. " "Why . . ."

Her hand was on the side of his face. She was perhaps a hairsbreadth taller than him, maybe an inch, but her hand felt so small against his face that Tullius couldn't help but reach up and clasp it with his own for fear that it slip away.

"I thought you were eavesdropping." "Well, I wouldn't say that–" "And, therefore, would know why I turned Ulfric down."

Tullius tries to swallow, but his throat is tight. Leara's hand is cool against his skin, and he takes comfort in that.

"You love me." "Yes, I do."

Her smile is radiant.

Tullius's hand slips from Leara's, but then his arms are around her waist, pulling her into him. She is slim and cool and everything a flower in winter might be. He buries his nose in her neck, amidst the frost and flowers.

"I love you."

She doesn't reply. She only tightens her arms around his torso. They stand there in the quiet of the night, away from the celebrations but togehter under the stars.

Later, when Tullius returns to Solitude for the last time, he packs his things for the return to the Imperial City. He takes his bags to the docks.

And there Leara is waiting for him, Lydia her housecarl in tow. She smiles at him, full and vivid.

"You're late. My trunks are already on board. Right, Lydia?"

Lydia rolls her eyes.

"All eleven of them, my Thane."

Tullius chuckles, quiet.

Leara's hand finds his, and he helps her up the gangplank of the Imperial Naval ship. It would be a long voyage, but Leara had never sailed before, so that would be their mode of transportation back to the Imperial City.

"What will we do when we get there?"

Leara's question is teasing and free of the burden of being Dragonborn and peacemaker. There were still the Thalmor to worry about, but after the ruin of Northwatch and the signing of the armistice, Tullius hoped they'd think thrice before going after Leara again.

"I'll buy you expensive teas and you'll drain my accounts on tea and books."

Her giggle rang out amidst the sounds of the ship preparing to leave the harbor.

"Oh yes, that must be why I've gone and married you."

Tullius pulled his wife to his side and slipped his arm around her waist.

"Must be."

It couldn't possibly be that she was the most maddening thing in the world and she drove him mad by proximity.

Madly in love.

What nonsense.

fin

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freaky-flawless · 4 months

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The return of some old faces

I finally got around to fleshing them out, so here's some more info on them under the cut:

They're all students at New Salem University and share a dorm room together. Demonique and Luci have been longtime friends, attending elementary and middle school in Hell before transferring to Monster High together, while Fangel is newer to the friend group, but feels as though she's always belonged with these ghouls.

Fangel attended Belfry Prep her whole un-life until she was able to escape that stuffy and intolerant environment once she graduated and started college. She never agreed with traditional vampire values, and always kept friends outside of school that were different monster types, and she's absolutely thriving in campus life.

Demonique may or may not have feelings for her vampire friend, but knows that she's already in a happy and committed relationship, and so she keeps her feelings hidden. Aside from that she's super chill and often the voice of reason. She's also incredibly creative, and is apart of all kinda of clubs on campus.

As Lucifer's eldest child, Luci is set to become the new ruler of Hell once her father retires. She's actually pretty hyped about it, and figures a business degree will help her become an effective ruler. She's the campus's resident party girl, and given her popularity, she's known for throwing the biggest college parties around. Given her status, she's able to get away with more than the average student, but she tries not to abuse this power too much.

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boygirlctommy · 3 months

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man i want to make an animatic about my ocs so bad

#my post #the lore is stored in the tags #the wondrous oc tag #madineau #that would require knowing literally anything about the plot though #i could maybe make something with reworked october hills? rip peyton and rory and austin and grace they were cut for being irrelevant </3 #mm but id need a good song and idk #i do have an animatic wip for madineau but i dont even know how that endssssssssssssssssssss #explodes and dies #guys i think im gonna kill off everin and not revive her. i think she just dies. i think it happens too late in the story to bring her back #itd drag on forever #and the others just have to live with that. they have to carry that.#but do they go home? i think they do they have no more stake in this kingdom #fucking. rip andoras though. oh poor guy hes all alone.#he wouldnt go with them. he hates the sib squad on evs behalf. oh nooooo but then he would just Get Worse :(#i mean he has A and B! so hes not totally alone. they can- they can be supportive and shit #maybe i can hint at them maybe. wanting to riseup against the new kings?#PERPETUATING THE CYCLE 💪💥💪🔥🔥‼️🔥💥💥💪💪💪#oh my god #did i just write the fucking ending for this #....#ive had this as a wip for three fucking years. did i just write the fucking ending. in the tags on a tumblr post #IVE BEEN DEBATING WITH MYSELF ON HOW TO END THIS SHIT FOR THREE YEARS #AND THIS IS HOW WE GET HERE??#FUCKIGN. I GUESS!!#ALL BECAUSE I WANTED TO ANIMATE?????

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grapecaseschoices · 1 year

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ocs as a love language

the dear @leirsulien gut punched me tagged me to do this uquiz for my ocs.

im tagging (no pressure!) @cassiopeiacorvus @roxaro @thelittlestspider @wayhavenots @griffin-wood @karolinarodrigueswrites @sapphic-story @laufire-writes @ice-knife and whoever else wants to (just at me, pls! <3)

andy: a story that ends in blood

The world has always been unkind, and when you have turned to yourself for comfort you have come face to face with an empty pit which seems to be laughing. You don’t care if it kills you but once you find someone whom you love and who loves you back, you will make sure nothing happens to them. They are yours. You will make a tear in this world and create a new place for you and your love if it comes to that. Because it has always been about love, and it is how it always ends.

kendis: a story that ends in blood (though when i took it yesterday for them i got: an undoing influence, so i’ll go with that)

can someone tell you what to do? you have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. if someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. you want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.

carmela: a knife called grief

You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.

val: violent devotion (though when i fiddled around with other possible answers i got ‘a story that ends with blood’; i think this quiz knows something about my preferred dynamics/themes)

Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?

#meet my ocs #grapecase posts #uquiz #just gonna go sit in the dark and ponder for a minute lads #didn't ask for this (i did) yet here i am being hurted #oc: andy yasar #oc: kendis crawford louel #oc: carmela brown #oc: val montemer #rip to adam i guess --- or not #depending on your pov #You will make a tear in this world and create a new place for you and your love if it comes to that. <- what can i say im predictable #everything i write is the same yada yada #but i have to say this fits erkan THE MOST -> Because it has always been about love and it is how it always ends.#from the beginning til the day he dies #violent devotion is more val if only for that first line #rip #and that you want to make them realise they're not something terrible. THOUGHTS. i have thoughts hrm hrm hrm #character analysis #indeed #character meta #oc meme

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prijune · 2 years

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*throws oc art at you* LOOK AT THEM

#prijune art #my ocs #treasure #idk what is with ladia's colors I'm just going wild here and but I want her clothes so bad #ladia looks like a macaw bird I am not complaining #These are from a big file I have where I'm refining(???) their outfits and designs so I guess I went off with Ladia #because the place where she lives in does a lot of dying so I just went #stacy on the other hand I'm still debating color placement and such but she's almost done also she big on just blasting people with magic #RIP everyone who gets in her way while she's getting her diamonds bro #also RIP Kettle may he be remembered #also I'm normal about Claudio and Ladia's relationship- I say like a liar :)#also on other news my brain is telling me to scrap my og idea and just make this a HM style thing because my brain says I should #and also it's one of the other directions/ideas I had with this dang cast of ocs #which means I gotta start over sort of but that's fine it's not like it can't go into the idea recycle bin #and it's not like I don't have 10 bazillion more ideas and projects stewing in my brain but eh we'll get there #at least I hvae a new system when I write ideas now where if while I'm working on something and a new idea that may or may not be related #comes up I just go down a line draw a star write 'BONUS IDEA' and jot whatever it is down and then get back to whatever I was doing #it's a life saver a wonderful cluttered minds blessing

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eye-of-yelough · 2 years

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Cicero’s copied my war paint… okay.

#also My Guys fave is stuck in combat mode. I dunno what to do. I guess just accept that he’s an angry boy #sorry for poor quality #Skyrim #poor Cole.. he looks nothing like what he looks like in my head anymore #rip beauty of Skyrim mod that let me give bosmer grey skin and added cool new war paint options. I miss you #at least I have a few screenshots from the time 😌 all is not lost #also Need to workshop his name. I can’t have two Skyrim ocs named after dragon age characters it’s insane #oc Aeryn #<- I changed his name

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bokatan · 1 year

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it’s so cruel that I have homework I need to do today, when I actually legitimately want to work on art for once

#bo.txt #rip in peace I guess #like??? I want to finish pic number 4794748 of my dumb oc so I can start plotting out new oc

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buff-borf-bork · 1 year

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Did the anime subtitles tiktok filter last words while thinking of each if my dnd characters and

1 we've got her going out the way she lived, living her best life while saying some bullshit that bound to annoy someone but hopefully make someone laugh

for the one I was thinking of, THIS ONE HURTS my poor girl bbg I'm so sorry they did you like that 😭

I could see her saying that in a trying to comfort someone else way as she died. Like yeah it'll hurt but only because we loved! Isn't that great!

#~ one of these girls is more damaged than the others~#and she shows it but not in a cute sweet “i stayed kind when the world wasnt”#kinda way #more in a “i figured out how to survive in my situation and now im in a new situation and im so so lost on what to do”#rip to her #dnd #my... characters?? i guess??? are dnd characters ocs????#i like to imagine all three of them meeting and how that would go lol

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raredrop · 2 years

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made a list of what handhelds i plan on tackling...(besides the switch bc i designed one already) i wont be doing every variation of handhelds bc some have ....a few.... like i’ll do three different gameboys (the first one, color, and advanced) and maybe take design aspects of other ones

then just the ds and 3ds, the game gear, and the psp and psvita

as u can see im staying within the four main groups i made (pc’s the only one thats an outsider) bc im too lazy to start up doing things like atari or the neo geo...

#and i already designed the sega pico #spoilers i think im tackling the 3ds next #rip xbox fam they have no tiny version #i guess this is what my attention has shifted to over the last few years (i think i made the first few designs in 2019?)#now that i can barely play any mmos and the last major thing i made a lot of ocs for was like....food fantasy whoops #not counting all the other ocs i still have to design #and a new sona ive been conjuring up in my brain #i just havent gotten around to bc art fight...i already designed like three new characters during art fight as it is

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allpromarlo · 2 years

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shaedon sharpe is gonna wear #17, huh...

#so he just gone steal youngjae's jersey number?#i'm kidding y'all calm down #i shouldn't need to specify that these are ocs and none of them exist but there's always people out there yk #but anyways i just got informed that shaedon has a 49 inch vertical and i wanna say...what in the goddamn #FOURTY NINE INCHES? ON GOD? JUST LIKE THAT?#that's a wilt chamberlain ass vertical the fuck you mean 49 inches #so in my universe they have youngjae (54) sharpe (49) ant (44) and greg brown (45)...that's a dunk contest lineup #those rims and backboards are going to be TIREDDDD #to be fair there's probably been a moment where youngjae ripped the backboard off its hinges #with his 7'1 300 lbs ass #he's a freak of nature what can i say #but so is our new blorbo #so i guess it checks out #the portland trail blazers (duskverse): where athletic bastards come to prosper #amen above and beyond brother #nba #portland trail blazers #shaedon sharpe #i need a passive aggressive nickname tag for him hollon #rose writes #oc: youngjae park

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tiredfox64 · 15 days

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Sooo I was thinking of Tomas trying to learn how to flirt because he wants to impress the reader however the reader (who has feelings in return) catches him flirting with another female Shirai Ryu member and mistakes it as he has feelings for someone else, cries about it to Kuai Liang who decides to help the reader out by taking her on a "date" to make Smoke jealous. When Smoke sees them together on their "date", he becomes consume with jealousy that fires him up to tackle Kuai Liang and bluntly tells the reader how he feels. 😅😅

It Should Be Me!

Prior notes: Oooh i like this one. I hope you don’t mind me using my oc as a place holder for the female Shirai Ryu member.

Pairing: Tomas x Afab reader, and Kuai Liang is there I guess

Warnings ‼️: Silly goose, there is none! I think

Who fell harder: You or Tomas? Could be both. You sure do like each other a whole lot.

Conversation that last for hours. Training together even though he should be focusing on the others. Showing each other your favorite genres of music. Oh the memories get you kicking your feet and rolling around in bed. Everyone thinks you two would look cute together. A perfect match really. But one of you has got to confess already. Ah but it won’t be you.

You are brave enough to take a horde of assassins head on. Confessing to someone that you like them takes a whole different kind of braveness. A kind that you have to build up. For now you will carry on with the hope that no one else tries to take your man. Actually, now would be the usual time you would meet up with him. Get to it, honey!

You were about to round the corner until you heard Tomas. You stopped yourself, peeking your head out to see who he was talking to. He was talking to the new girl. There was something strange going on. Her giggling, his closeness to her, that look he was giving her, that tone in his voice. Oh no! He’s flirting with her.

You heard it, compliments about her eyes and how any man would be lucky enough to have a funny girl like her around. You practically felt your heart rip apart. It hurt to hear those words being told to another girl. You always wished he would say such things to you. A wish that may never come true now. To you it was already over. It seemed he picked another girl over you and you’re left questioning what did she do that you didn’t.

Your eyes started to grow watery and the last thing you wanted was for Tomas to see you cry over this. It was his decision on who to date, you can’t change that fact. You silently walked away while you sniffled and wiped your tears with your sleeve. The only person you trusted to share this heartbreak with was Kuai Liang. At least you knew he wouldn’t judge you since he’s not that kind of guy.

But wait! You made a mistake! You didn’t hear the rest of their conversation.

“Ah Tomas, you’re getting better every day with your pick up lines. Soon enough you’ll be getting more girls than Johnny does.” The girl complimented him.

“Aw thanks, Kris. But you know I’m only doing this for you know who.” He whispered the last part, unsure if you were around or not.

“Oh yes, yes, yes. Well I can certainly say that she will fall for your charm easily now, if she hasn’t already done so. When do you plan on asking her out?”

“Tomorrow. There’s a festival going on and I was hoping she would say yes to going with me. When we are there I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend.”

The look of Tomas’ face showed how enthusiastic he was to ask you out. He was clueless to the fact that there was some miscommunication before he could communicate to you. That girl was already hyping him up to go find you and ask if you wanna go to the festival tomorrow. You were already in Kuai Liang’s office when they were done talking.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

“I don’t know what happened. I thought he liked me.” You cried into your hands while Kuai Liang just sat there awkward.

Therapist was not in his occupation but looks like he has to play that role for you. He is somewhat confused of Tomas’ actions. He thought his brother liked you a lot considering how much he gushed over you. If his brother changed his mind suddenly he had no idea about it.

Kuai Liang lightly patted your back to soothe you, “I am unsure of what to tell you. Just…please stop crying, it will be okay.”

He wasn’t being mean he just didn’t want anything bad between you guys. Kuai Liang conjured a plan in his head of what to do while still trying to soothe you. An idea popped up in his head. It may have seemed extreme but he wanted to fix the issue fast and effectively.

“Okay, how about this. I take you on a “date” to the festival tomorrow. Someone will tell Tomas where you are and the thought of being with me might make him realize he wants you instead.” He tried to sound confident with this plan like it could actually work.

“Your plan is to make him jealous?” You asked as your crying died down.

“I guess you could say that. Do you have anything better?”

You immediately nodded your head no. Even if the plan didn’t work out at least you could get out for once. Spending time wouldn’t be bad either. You just wished it was with Tomas.

Will you ever recover from this sorrow?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Plans were set into motion. You had your plan and Tomas had his. Tomas was preparing himself to ask you to go to the festival with him. He was all giddy and he came walking up to you with a warm smile on his face. His heart was pumping just thinking about you saying yes. His emotions made him miss the sour expression on your face.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you. I had something important to ask you.” He started off.

“Oh yeah…what is it?” You seemed dismissive but once again his emotions made him miss that.

“I was wondering if you and I could go to the festival tomorrow. I thought it would be nice. Plus I’d love to go out with a pretty girl like you.”

He thought his flirting would really get you this time. This should have been easy but what you said next shocked him to his core.

“No, I’m already going out with your brother. It’s a date.” You said it so casually before walking off as if you didn’t just crush this man.

How could this happen? This was a joke right? Yeah, this had to be. You were joking with him and you would actually come around later to tell him to come with you to the festival. Oh you’re so silly…right?

Tomas was in a daze throughout the rest of the day which continued over to the next. You saw the plan was actually working so you planned to continue with it. Though it still saddened you that he didn’t try to stop you already or ask why you were doing this.

Have patience, soon he will take action.

He was pacing around in his room, blabbering to the same girl he was practicing his flirting with about how you were just messing with him.

“I mean it just doesn’t make any sense. The two are close but never would I think they were that close. We are the ones who are that close. Oh what am I thinking? I’m sure she will be coming around soon and just tell me it was a prank and then we’ll go out there and I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend.” Yeah, yeah that should be right.

“Tomas.”

“What.”

“They’re leaving.” The girl pointed her thumb to the window where Tomas saw you and Kuai Liang leaving for the festival.

Tomas immediately bolted out the door. He didn’t care if he looked crazy to the other clan members for running out into the world, he had to catch you.

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You sighed in disappointment. The festival seemed wonderful with warm lighting around and yummy smelling food. If only you could’ve spent the time with Tomas. You kept walking with Kuai Liang, arms locked as if you two were on an actual date. He looked at you with a concerned expression. He was hoped this would go differently but he’ll do his best to make the most of it for you.

“I’m sorry about the outcome. I was sure my brother would come after you once he found out you were going with me.” Kuai Liang apologized since he didn’t want you feeling heartbroken.

“It’s not your fault. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.” Your voice cracked a little when you said that.

Kuai Liang brought you in a hug, having your head rest on his shoulders. He whispered to you that it will be alright and he’ll buy you some food. That should help.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Tomas was nearby watching you two. He really couldn’t believe you were out with his brother. When Kuai Liang pulled you into a hug it damn near drove the man crazy. He could never hurt his brother but this was the first time he has ever felt the need to destroy him. And when Kuai Liang started to rest his head on top of your head Tomas thought he was going in to kiss you.

A blaze of fury ignited in his body. Hell hath no fury like a man who is after a woman. By the gods he was pissed!

When Kuai Liang pulled away from you, Tomas saw that as the opportunity to attack his brother. Kuai Liang had no time to react as he heard the quick footsteps coming right towards him. His brother slammed into him, tackling him to the ground with a harsh thud emitting from the crash. Kuai Liang was in a daze as Tomas grabbed him by the collar of his uniform.

“How could you?! You know how much I like her! How could my own brother do this to me?” He kept shaking Kuai Liang.

Like? Wait, did you hear that right? Did he just say that he likes you a lot?

Tomas turned his full attention towards you now while still on his knees.

“Please don’t do this to me. Don’t go out with my brother. I’m the one who loves you. Don’t you remember all those nights we would listen to music together? I want to have many more nights like those but with you as my girlfriend instead of just being my friend. I love you.” He announced.

You looked down at him with shock. His eyes are begging you to accept his affection. His tone showed he was desperate and possibly even worried you wouldn’t date him.

“Bu-but I thought you were trying to go after Kris. I heard you flirting with her.”

“No,” he started to get back on his feet, “She was teaching me how to flirt. I was hoping to impress you. I just really wanted you to be my girlfriend and I didn’t want to ruin my chances.”

A blush crept onto his cheeks as he felt embarrassed for admitting that. He was also embarrassed that he was caught before and that the incident caused this great confusion.

Knowing the truth, your heart started to flutter as you realized he was doing all that just to get with you. In a way those words that he said to that girl were actually meant for you. He truly is the sweetest guy around.

You practically leapt onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips attacked his lips in a passionate kiss. You were overjoyed by the fact he wants you as his girlfriend. The extent he went through just to better his chances showed he is committed to you. This is like a dream come true for you.

Tomas was surprised by the hug and kiss but happily accepted it. His arms wrapped around your waist. This was a magical moment for him. It didn’t go as planned but he is happy that the outcome still gained him a wonderful girlfriend. He placed you back on the ground while smiling at you. And then he remembered what he just did to his brother. He swiftly turned around and saw his brother wasn’t lying on the ground anymore.

“He must have walked off. Don’t worry, he’s capable of taking a hit.” You tried to calm Tomas’ concerns which luckily worked.

“Yeah, that must be it,” He started looking around, “Well, I would hate to waste this opportunity with you. How about we explore the festival together. As girlfriend and boyfriend.”

“I would like that a lot.” You smiled at him as you two locked arms.

The night ended off on a good note. You enjoyed your time with Tomas at the festival. A warmth enveloped you as you recognize that this is no dream but a reality. A reality where you and him are happy. Just the way you guys both want it.

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Bonus ending

“Damn! You got knocked the fuck out.”

Kuai Liang heard a familiar voice speak to him as they grunted from yanking on his body. Warm liquid spilled on his face and when he opened his eyes he saw Kris dragging him while drooling over the grilled squid she had in her mouth. He grimaced as he wiped her drool off his face.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Like I said you got knocked the fuck out. Yup, Tomas done fucked you up.” She responded very casually.

“Kris, please refrain from cursing it’s improper. Now help me up.”

He expected Kris to do as he said but she just dropped him.

“What are you talkin about? It’s not improper. I’m just puttin some fuckin love in there. You can drag your ass back home yourself, grandmaster.”

He watched as she started to walk away, more focused on the grilled squid on a stick. When did she even have time to get that?

“Alright! You can curse. Just help me up.”

She listened this time and yanked him to his feet. Poor Kuai Liang, may the elder gods help him.

After notes: I got a 90 on my asl final yippie! And I should have been working on final papers but instead I was finishing this fic at school. Pick and choose, people, pick and choose. Now I better get my ass to communications even tho I hate it. Adiós!

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s-4pphics · 1 year

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its christmas morning! (e.w)

omg y’all it’s fucking 4/20 aka my thanksgiving christmas and valentine’s day😳

wanted to write for my fav pothead for my fav holiday :O ellie ripping bongs has been imprinted on my brain since that scene in the game yall know which one i’m talking about i don't even gotta say it🙄 i am very high rn so if there’s a typo or mistake no!! there’s!! not!! love y’all bye

wc;cw: 2.7k, oc n ellie r both in college, WEED!!! WEED WEED WEED!!!, 21 savage :p catch it, sexual tension y’all know how i get down, descriptions of sex MDNIIII, dubcon(they’re very high), ellie’s so cute but also a lil mean, hair pulling ;D

“c’moooon dude, just one hit!” ellie said with a wide grin while softly nudging your shoulder with hers, her packed and filled miniature glass bong and lighter sitting on the coffee table in front of the two of you.

ellie had sent you a text message after you got out of your last class saying it was her favorite fucking holiday so get ur ass over here! you knew she would hate it if you—her main smoking buddy—missed out on the new bud she got from someone on campus, so you packed an overnight bag with four of your own blunts that you rolled for her(you learned that tropical breeze was her favorite flavored wrap during one of your seshes!), and made your way over to her off-campus apartment complex. you knew there was no way you were going to be able to walk home tonight since you planned to get as fried as humanly possible.

you’d arrived inside her building and scaled the stairs to the third floor before you banged on her door. fuck, you were winded! what’s up with the elevators not working—

a muffled what’s the password?! had come from the other side of the door as you gasped for air.

“stop playing games, i’m tired!”

you’d heard her laugh as the door swung open, revealing an already high, smiling ellie: you were immediately hit with the smell of the weed she’d apparently already smoked. she looked so cozy, her black hoodie and gray sweatpants littered her body, her hair in a loose ponytail. you looked down at her giant frog slippers before she broke the silence between you two.

“it’s christmas morning! welcome to my trap house!” she’d excitedly squealed out, gesturing for you to come in.

she guided you to her and her roommate’s living room couch as she lit one of the blunts you rolled (and then another one) for you both to share. you felt relaxed after smoking them down, but you told her you needed more, and she was more than willing to give you that. she’d ran to her bedroom and grabbed her trusted friend, as she called the smoking utensil.

“i’ve never used one of those before.”

“…are you fuckin’ serious?” ellie asked with wide, red tinted eyes.

“um, yeah. why would i lie?” you asked blankly.

“that’s not what i meant, you smoke pretty often so i assumed. my bad.” she put her hands up in defense at your tone.

“you don’t need to apologize,” you said before pausing to look at the bong. it was pretty: it was clear, but there were hints of blue further down the base. it reminds you of the ocean. you stared at it before breaking the silence.

“what does it feel like?”

“what? hitting it?” she asked as she nodded towards the bong on the table.

you nodded at her, and she shrugged before sarcastically answering.

“it feels like you're smoking,” she said with dramatic jazz hands.

you pushed her as she laughed, “obviously, bitch! i mean when you're high. people always talk about it hitting way harder than any other pipe.”

“because it does! you choke hard as fuck if the rip is big but it feels good afterwards. you smoke, you know what i’m talking about. it’s… the peak is just more… intense with bongs? i guess, i don’t know. i can only take like…three or four good hits, not gonna lie.”

you nodded as you listened to her rambles. ellie’s tolerance was definitely higher than yours, but you could hang—which was one of the main reasons she liked to smoke with you. you always felt nervous to hit from a bong because of all of your friends' horror stories. you heard so many variations of how hard they greened out the first couple of times they did it, and though you’d never admit it to anyone, their experiences freaked you out. you always smoked weed to relax and sleep, not see god.

“…hm.”

“what?” ellie smirked at you when she heard your acknowledgement.

you were looking at the bong intensely as you imagined what your high would be like if you were to smoke out of one: you’d be so embarrassed if ellie was forced to talk you down from a bad trip because you didn’t know your limits. but the mention of its intensity intrigued you. how intense would it be? would you be able to move? think?

“you wanna hit it and see what happens?”

her quiet voice caught your attention. you looked to your right and… oh. she was really close to you. when did she get so close?

“…yeah.”

you were now sitting criss crossed on the couch as ellie faced you, packed, water-filled bong and lighter in hand.

“hitting is pretty easy, but your throat burns like crazy. this is my smallest one, but… yeah, it might choke you.”

“‘s fine.”

she hummed in acknowledgment before she said, “i’ll go first just so you can see.”

you nodded as you watched her put her lips at the opening of the tube. she lit her lighter and circled her flame around the bud-stocked bowl, igniting the flower as smoke slowly began to fill the base of the bong.

when she was satisfied with the rip, she detached the bowl from the stem and sucked in the smoke, exhaling a large cloud away from your face. she cleared her throat as she passed it to you, “see? easy.”

you took the bong and lighter from her hands and inspected it. you heard her snort from in front of you, meeting her eyes as you looked up. “it’s not gonna bite you, dude.”

“i fucking know that,” you said with a soft glare, making her laugh harder.

she reached over towards the coffee table and grabbed the small baggie of your rolled blunts. she took one out and grabbed another lighter out of her hoodie pocket, lighting the end and puffed on it to ignite the weed. she hadn’t noticed that you’d been watching her the whole time with an intense gaze.

she finally looked up at you and nodded at your occupied hands. “you gonna hit it?”

fuck. yeah, you were. you were. you nodded hard. she mumbled out a soft you don’t have to, but you shook your head at her, yes, you do!

you brought the opening towards your lips and looked at her for approval, earning a small nod as she exhaled her own smoke and smiling, “carry on, young pupil.”

you lightly kicked your knee against hers, earning a soft laugh. you took a deep breath before igniting the bowl and watched smoke fill the base. you weren’t sure how long you should wait before you took a rip, so you met her eyes again, awaiting instruction.

“you don’t need to smoke all of that. ‘s a lot.” she advised, slurring slightly, smoke pooling out of her nose as she spoke. you didn’t listen, though.

you removed the bowl as she did, and sucked in all of it. you breathed out and instantly started coughing up both of your lungs as she laughed, grabbing you a water from the table, opening it, and passing it to you. you dropped the lighter and exchanged the large pipe for the water in her hand. “fuckin’ idiot, i told you not to.”

you choked harder as tears flooded your eyes, but even in your time of weakness, you flipped her off. she giggled before pretending to bite it off.

as your coughing eased, you slowly sipped from your bottle and wiped the tears off your cheeks. “bro, what the fuck.” you said dryly, sipping more water.

she laughed hard at you as she lit and ripped from the bong again.

some time passed and you were starting to feel… something different as you came up. you knew you were going to peak soon, but the lift was coming in much harder. much faster. it was making you a bit antsy.

ellie must’ve noticed your unfocused looks around her living room because she aligned her eyes with yours and whispered out a hey.

“hi… i think i feel… feel it,” you whispered back, a slight shakiness to your voice.

“okay. want me to turn some music on?” and you nodded before she could even finish her gentle proposal. you watched her every move as she got up and swiftly made her way over to the kitchen, turning on her speaker. “what you wanna listen to?”

“g-glock in my lap.”

“everywhere i’m strapped,” she said as she mimed jerking off with her tongue out. she's so gross… why was it getting you hot?

she busted out laughing at her own joke before she played it, queueing her own list of songs before returning back to the couch to get in her previous position.

“what’s your craziest weed story?” you asked the minute she sat down, cutting mumbling of the lyrics off.

“craziest weed story?” she asked softly as she reignited her stubbed out blunt.

“bong story. craziest bong story,” you corrected yourself slurrily. oh, this shit was hitting.

she huffed out a laugh before talking. “…i don’t know if you wanna hear that right now.”

“why? was it that bad?”

“it was the exact opposite actually.” she corrected softly. had she leaned a bit closer to you? you couldn’t tell.

“one of the best highs of my life, to be honest. wish i could go back to that day and just to feel it again.”

“what happened?”

she was silent for a moment, looking into your eyes with an intense gaze.

“i… i met this girl on hinge— don’t fucking laugh!” she said as she smiled.

it made you laugh harder. “i’m not—i’m not trying to, i promise!”

she rolled her eyes as she continued. “anyway, we linked up after talking for a bit, and she told me she wanted to match. i drove hours to see her, she was so fuckin’ hot.”

you hummed as she continued, giggles completely forgotten as your vision tunneled in on her. “so, we meet and we go up to her room. i think… her roommate had company over or something, it was really noisy when i walked in. anyway, we spark up, we’re smoking, and she’s just like hit my bong with me!, and i said sure.”

you’d been watching her lips move the entire time she was talking. she’d been biting and licking them as she reminisced while hitting the blunt, and it was making your body hot.

“she hit it first and passed it to me, and i’m like… what the fuck do i do with this contraption? like, you have to understand that it wasn’t a bong like mine. it was wide and long as fuck and the rips were huge. anyway, she showed me but… she was so close to me. like this.”

she leaned closer to you, your noses almost touching. your breathing picked up. “she was just talking me through the first hit, light this, pull that, y’know.”

to be frank, you didn’t give a shit about this story at all, but you would listen to it over and over again if it meant she’d be this close to your face—

“and sex while high feels so fucking good—“

“huh?”

“what?”

“who had sex while high?”

“… me‘n my hinge date.”

she squinted her eyes at you before she grinned. “were you listening?”

“yup.”

“right.” she said as she cheesed.

there was silence as you both looked at each other, but she inched a little closer to you and whispered. “wanna know a secret?”

you nodded instantly. anything anything—

“she made me cum really hard after i hit her bong, like i went completely brain dead.”

and you sucked in a sharp breath at her little secret before saying, “i’m sure…”

“you’re sure?”

“yeah.”

she nodded at you, passing you the blunt she'd been nursing before she scooted back to reach for her bong and lighter off the table. she hit it again and you watched. you watched her so closely.

“what’d she do?” you asked as you took a bold hit before stubbing it out on the ashtray on the table.

“who? m’date?” she asked as she blew another cloud away from you.

you nodded much harder than you should’ve, but you were so curious.

she smiled at you before elaborating, “so… i hit it, i’m choking hard as fuck, but she’s handing me water and rubbing my back and all of that shit.”

“i finally calmed down, and we both laid down on her bed, we’re like… facing each other,” she explained, trying to demonstrate their movements through her occupied hands.

remember when you said you didn’t give a shit about this story? you did. you really did.

“she just starts… rubbing on my arm and stuff. like barely, but i feel it, and i start relaxing. like… it feels like i’m sinking into her bed. she starts telling me how cute i am and whatever and then… she just kisses me. it’s real cute at first,” she said with a gentle grin.

“but she… she grabs my hips and pulls me closer… i can’t even remember what happened but i end up on my back and she’s eating me out and fingering me,” she’d been looking off into the distance throughout the whole story, but reconnects her eyes with yours, and they slowly drift down to your lips and you want to kiss her so fucking bad—

“when i came, i kinda just… blacked out, i felt like my brain was gonna come out my ears…like, in a puddle or somethin’ crazy,” she had the audacity to giggle at her statement. she didn’t even care about how wet her story just made you, how rude!

“…but yeah,” she mumbled and nodded, suddenly averting her gaze from your mouth. she leaned towards the bong in her hand, lighting and ripping from it again.

instead of politely blowing the smoke away from your face like she’d been doing, she held eye contact and blew the cloud towards you, and you breathed it in like you wished to breathe her in. she reached to the side to place the pipe and lighter back on her table and looked down at your twitching hands before she asked, “you okay?”

you nodded slowly and dazed, slowly blinking at her, and she smirked as she leaned closer to you again. this was the closest she’s been to your face, and all you could do was study her. memorize every detail on her face. she's so, so pretty.

“ellie.”

“yeah?” she breathed out and you barely heard it.

“kiss me.” you replied just as quietly.

she licked her lips again as she looked down at yours. you were nearly panting like a dog and you could tell she was getting off to your desperation by the smirk on her face.

you leaned closer to her in attempts to close the distance, but ellie moved away before you could.

so you tried again.

and she moved away again. and then she leaned back onto her propped elbows, one of her knees bent up.

“c’mere.”

you moved before you could think, shifting onto your wobbly knees to crawl on top of her, your hands on either side of her head as she straightened her legs out so you could straddle her waist.

you felt her warm hands grab your hips to squeeze them. you placed your weight on both your elbows and leaned down so you could finally kiss her. you want a kiss! you want a kiss now!

your head was yanked back before you could connect your lips to hers, and you let out a shocked, wet gasp as you grinded down on her impulsively. you want more more more—

she snorted at your reaction before bringing her mouth up to your ear to whisper, “i want another hit.”

her hand loosened in your hair as you watched her laugh at you with her head thrown back, a shocked expression on your face. no way she just played you like that!

“fuck you,” you said with an embarrassed pout as you sat up and moved off her lap, sitting the farthest away from her as you could.

“i know you want to, hand me that lighter,” she said, nodding her head towards the table while giggling.

you grabbed and threw it at her chest, making her laugh louder.

hahaaaa i gotchu yall thought they were gonna fuck? SIKE but omg yall make sure to get high byeee

#ellie williams blurb #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #pothead!ellie #lesbian #modern!ellie williams #modern!eddie x reader #works 𖧧࣪

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genericpuff · 2 months

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I don't know the term for creators who became popular outside the traditional steps to "make it" in their profession; then when people started taking their work seriously and giving them criticism, these creators saw it as an attack because they are not used to mentors and studies.

Smythe's professional training is vague at best, being a folklorist. Then there's the creator of the popular hell cartoon that became her own executive producer and director in her 20s (I'm not going to say her name since it tends to attract her rabid fans) and becomes reactive to any kind of criticism on Twitter. Then there's that TikToker Devon Rodriguez, who became popular for sketching people on subways, and when an art critic gave a mild review to his art gallery, Devon unleashed his fans on him.

Like am I seeing a pattern here for artists? And I guess, what do you think we can learn from it.

Ah, so this is a very interesting (and broad) topic that we've touched on in discussions in ULO and other webtoon-related communities. So buckle up, it's time for an ✨essay✨

I think the best way I can sum up my thoughts on this issue is: the vast majority of people who become paid content creators don't seek out a job as content creators, a job in content creation is just something that happens to them.

I say "content creation" because this is something that applies to a lot of other platforms and online mediums as well, such as the examples you included (TikTok, Youtube, Twitch, etc.). And don't get me wrong, it's not like every successful content creator out there didn't work their asses off to get to where they are, but for many... it still involves an element of luck. People don't go to school for it, people don't "apply" to become influencers, and much of it relies entirely on just making stuff until it gets seen and propelled into success.

I think a lot of these issues arise with the creators themselves and how they view their own work. The reality is that many of us artists have been treated as the "rejects" of society, we constantly feel like we're misunderstood and have some deep inner pain that we express through our art, and instead of going to therapy, we come up with OC's. It's a lot more fun and it's a lot cheaper LOL Webcomics naturally wind up being the perfect lightning rod for people who feel that way, where we can pour ourselves into the characters, the world, the narrative, in a way that perfectly mixes our talents for art and our need to express our innermost thoughts and feelings about ourselves and the world around us. So when our art gets criticized or rejected ... it can be hard for a lot of artists to not feel like it's a criticism of the self, a rejection of our identities, an attack on our feelings and experiences, because we've tied so much of ourselves to our work. And this can make that transition very difficult for people who are trying to go pro, because being professional demands separating yourself from your work, at least enough that you can view it objectively, recognize its flaws, seek out pathways to improvement, and not take every bump in the road personally.

A lot of successful creators are people who just never made that transition. It's led to an abundance of professional creators who know how to film themselves or react to content or, in the case of webcomic artists, write stories about their OC's, but don't know how to actually navigate the industry at a professional level. They don't know how to read and negotiate contracts, they don't know what deals are actually good for them and which ones are better left on the table, they don't know how to manage teams of people, they don't know how to react to the attention, praise, and criticism of their audience - they're just doing what they've always done, but now they're making money doing it.

None of this is to speak ill in any way of the creators who've found success and are still just doing what they've always done for money. None of this is meant to be a slight on the creators who are using webcomics and art as an expression of their deeper selves (I do it myself, it's very cathartic!) because ultimately that's what makes your work your work, the fact that you made it, with all your good parts and bad. Many of these creators are capable of running their platform without any issues because they've learned how to play the game, or because their platform is made up of people just like them so their audience is more like just a social circle.

But many of them still also can't operate on a professional level and those are the ones we often see getting called out and held accountable when they do shit like, I dunno, scamming their audiences for money or making alt accounts to manipulate user reviews or plagiarizing from other people's work or just being really REALLY shitty to their own audience.

Often times these are people who are just doing what they'd normally do as a hobby, became well known for it, and managed to turn it into a living. But they never actually learned how to turn their hobby into a job, and themselves into professionals.

And artists especially are prone to this because, let's face it, a lot of us are just weebs having fun drawing our blorbos, so of course if we get a chance to monetize that, we're gonna! We should! We should want to be paid for our work and time and efforts!

But we also have to remember that it's a different ballgame, especially if you're turning your audience into customers. "I'm just a baby creator doing this for fun" doesn't and shouldn't apply anymore once you start signing contracts, selling your art as products, taking people's money to fund your projects, etc. because now it's not just your art, it's what you're expecting people to pay for so you can eat and pay your bills and live.

As much as our art is often personal and should be cherished as such, you can't expect people to want to pay for it if you're not setting a bar and meeting it, or if you're not treating your audience with any amount of dignity or respect.

I'm not saying you're not entitled to having feelings or still wanting to treat your art as art, but the line between art and products is there for a reason, it's to set people's expectations and ensure that both sides are having those expectations met. Webtoon creators suffer from the same thing that a lot of Youtube creators and other types of content creators suffer from in this transition, and I feel like HBomberGuy summed it up best:

"In current discourse, Youtubers simultaneously present as the forefront of a new medium, creative voices that need to be taken seriously as part of the 'next generation of media' - and also uwu smol beans little babies who shouldn't be taken seriously when they rip someone off and make tens of thousands of dollars doing it."

It's not gatekeeping a medium, it's not telling people they aren't allowed to have feelings or to want to still have that personal connection to their work in spite of the professional level it's achieved, it's simply just expecting people to actually live up to the label of 'professional' that they're using to make money.

And this especially goes for someone like Rachel, who claims to be a 'folklorist' despite all the contrary evidence that says otherwise. This is the same person who copy pasted the first result on Google as her source on a simple word definition:

There's a second part to that HBomberGuy quote that also actually applies to Rachel really well in this discussion, concerning how she labels herself a "folklorist" and how that's affected and influenced the greater discussion surrounding Greek myth:

"But on the opposite end, Youtubers who act like serious documentarians gain a shroud of professionalism which then masks the deeply unprofessional things they do. We just saw that with James. I think [James] partially got away with what he's doing for so long because he acts so professional about it, so people assume, 'there's no way he could just be stealing shit!' so they don't check. And on top of that, a lot of James' videos contain obvious mistakes and made-up facts... but because they're often presented next to well-researched stuff he stole, no one questions it. I've seen James repeat a lie in his videos, and then other people claim it's true, and link his video as the proof. He has helped to solidify misinformation by seeming like he's doing his diligence."

There's always going to be discourse over what's legitimate and what isn't when it comes to Greek myth, there are loads of things we still don't know simply due to the knowledge being lost to time. But there's something to be said about a white New Zealand woman using her self-insert romance comic and platform to build a veneer of professionalism and legitimacy around herself, as if she's the authority on the subject, while simultaneously relying on first result Google searches and citing works that have no real foothold in the way of scholarly or "folklorist" discussion.

All that's to say, you're right, her professional training is vague at best. She's never completed a longform comic prior to LO, she's not doing her due diligence in actually engaging with the media she's trying to "retell" and exposing herself to the voices of those from the culture that's tied to it, and she's not holding herself to any sort of standards when it comes not only to being a professional, but a professional who's been held on a pedestal for all these years. She's still operating the same way she was 5 years ago - drawing and writing whatever pops into her head and sending it to her editor for uploading, with next to no intervention or guidance. Except now it doesn't have the benefit of being new and having "potential", it's getting noticed and called out more now than ever because it's been 5 years of this shit and it's been getting worse on account of her clearly being burnt out (or just giving up/not caring) and the readers can't be sold on "potential" anymore.

And that's all I have to say on that.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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crappymixtape · 3 months

Text

crappymixtape recos

going to try and do this at least once a month – sharing fics that have just blown me away ❤ so many talented writers on here omg 🥺 show them some love and BE KIND, REBLOG! xoxo, 💿 FIND THE REST OF MY FIC RECS HERE -> IN THE TAGS EVERY MONTH

♥️ honey, baby, love you, be home soon – @atinylittlepain ( oh dear god, this is going to be the sweetest, softest shit i stg, dad!steve harrington and the best oc to ever exist on the planet – i cannot wait • steve harrington x f!oc, fluff, tbd )

♥️ girl boy masterlist +18 – @atinylittlepain ( masterlist for the above series ft. steve harrington and andy – a series of fics about a boy falling hard for a girl • steve harrington x f!oc, fluff, smut )

♥️ i guess it’s never really over +18 – @loveshotzz ( a broken down car, a party at reefer rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off • mechanic!steve harrington x reader, exes to lovers )

♥️ his hands +18 – @loveshotzz ( thinking about Steve flirting with you at a party by comparing hand sizes • steve harrington x reader )

♥️ orange juice +18 – @sattlersquarry ( yes, i’m rec’ing this one again because fhdjkalfhsjka it’s so fucking perfect – steve's world changes in the worst way when he loses you. he struggles to move on...but he learns he might not have to when he miraculously gets a second chance with you • steve harrington x reader, TWs, hurt / comfort )

♥️ freaks come out at night masterlist +18 – @superblysubpar ( an AU with stories exploring the messy relationship your boyfriend, eddie munson, and you invite steve harrington to be a part of • boyfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader x steve harrington )

♥️ shit, i don’t think i hate you anymore – @lovebugism ( your new years kiss ends up being the loudmouth, metalhead, wild-haired boy you can’t stand • enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, eddie munson x reader )

♥️ maybe this year +18 – @supernovafics ( in which a new year’s dinner at the apartment sparks a bet— that you and steve are completely unaware of— among the friend group • bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader )

♥️ your first kiss – @bruisedboys ( celebration request for ‘was that your first kiss’ with steve harrington and god this is just jfkda;fhjksa • steve harrington x f!reader )

♥️ like it’s love series +18 – @upsidedownwithsteve ( Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him • steve harrington x f!reader, soulmate au )

♥️ physical touch valentine’s event +18 – @upsidedownwithsteve ( love languages with steve and while the sex is good, it’s everything afterwards that makes you so soft for him • steve harrington x reader, fluff, smut )

♥️ that dark blue polo – @stevebabey ( finding steve so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it • steve harrington x shy!reader )

♥️ let’s go home – @xspeter ( the softest little blurb of all time omg, crying, just you asking stevie to go home after you survived the upside down • steve harrington x reader )

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sophswritingthings · 6 months

Text

so what — blue eyed samurai

pairing: mizu x f!oc

warning(s): a bit of a steamy scene at the beginning but technically no smut; sex/sexual mentionssss. swearing!!

tropes: protective!mizu, canon divergent, just some good old fluff, a little bit of angst; I guess? cuddling, mizu with ✨feelings✨

a/n: writing these fics have become my life and I’m way too invested and also flustered writing these things so bare with me

summary: after their kiss at the brothel, they find themselves staying with a swordsman and his workers before traveling again. mizu wants to keep their new found relationship to themselves. mio, however, does not feel the same way.

word count: 1,476 words / 8,122 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

mio's chest heaved up and down, her breath came out in puffs, almost like smoke. her kimono was half pushed off her top half, exposing the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder.

meanwhile, there was mizu—sitting behind her, bent into the crook of her neck, kissing and sucking on her neck and shoulder. leaving red marks up and down her skin…

footsteps pounded outside the bedrooms door.

mio stayed relaxed, her muscles never tensing. sure, it made her a bit embarrassed someone could catch them like this, specifically, but she didn’t care if someone saw them together.

on the other hand, she felt mizu’s arms around her waist tense. her head shot up from mio’s neck, pulling up the girls kimono, making her look as presentable as possible.

“.. no-ones coming in here, mizu,” mio murmured, glancing at the samurai over her shoulder. “It’s probably only ringo… he knows not to bother you.”

“I’m not taking my chances, mio,” mizu’s eyes narrow, “besides. you should get to sleep—we have a long day tomorrow and I don’t want to listen to you complain.”

there was a hint of kindness in her tone—a hint of empathy, despite her actual words. mio sighed flopping down to rest her head on the pillow of the mattress.

“I suppose your not going to stay with me, can’t risk it, can you? so scandalous to be seen with a woman you like, isn’t it?” mio hissed, burying her face into the soft pillow.

“I- mio,” mizu choked out. it wasn’t that she was—embarrassed by mio, not at all—mio was a courteous, beautiful woman to which she liked. she didn’t want to admit to herself how nervous she was. how nervous she was to be seen with someone; being a samurai of her reputation.

“no, no—go. go ahead,” mio sighed. “If that’s what you want, mizu, it’s fine.”

was it fine, though? was she fine with this? being hidden away like she was some dirty secret?

mizu stopped in her tracks. she quickly sat back down, gazing at mio with somewhat of an unimpressed expression.

“happy?”

mio gazed at her for a moment, somewhat of a flustered smile coming over her lips.

“I won’t be truly happy until you come over here,” mio murmured, chuckling a little.

mizu rolled her eyes, climbing up to the top of the mattress. she settled behind mio, wrapping her arms tight around the woman’s waist—as if something was going to come out and hurt her. her head tucked into mio’s neck.

mizu practically raised warmth; compared to mio’s small body.

“you crack so easily,” mio murmured, her voice slipping off into sleep.

mizu rolled her eyes, “no. I don’t think I do,” her voice was raspy, growing more tired by the second.

mio slipped fully into sleep. mizu’s arms around her waist, her head tucked into the crook of her neck—their legs intertwined as warmth radiated from their bodies. the closeness of someone you liked so much could warm a heart in seconds.

snow sprinkled on her silky black locks; the snow riding up her ripped kimono. she’d probably be able to get a new one, at some point—but as of now she’d have to deal with it.

they trudged through the snow, the cold wind nipping at her exposed skin. the weather was turning her naturally light skin bright red.

a hand brushed against her cheek, making her look up unexpectedly.

when she did, there was a somewhat kind expression in front of her—partially hidden by a hat and glasses.

“.. you’re freezing,” mizu murmured, pushing her glasses up her nose with two fingers.

“what did you expect,” mio chuckled nervously. “It a fucking blizzard, out here.” her tone was somewhat rough, eyes narrowed.

was she still a little upset about the keeping them a secret, thing? sure.

but she felt that it was petty; so she didn’t bring it up. she should understand, right?

“we’ll be inside soon,” mizu shifted her gaze away from mio. she had quickly caught onto the woman’s tone. she glanced at her, “you’re upset with me. for what I said, aren’t you.”

mio folded her arms across her chest. partly because she was upset, yes; but partly to keep herself warm.

“maybe I am,” mio murmured, her dark brown eyes locked on mizu's blue eyes, hidden by those glasses she wore. “Is that not allowed?”

“don’t say things I didn’t,” mizu narrowed her eyes. “you’re allowed to be upset with me, mio, it’s fair. have your own opinion.”

mio glanced at mizu, raising an eyebrow, “okay,” she whispered. “so—what? what do you have to say about it?”

“you do have to understand this from my view, mio,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated by the situation. she let her hands than fall under her cover up. “.. you act as if this is completely common for us to do. you act as if someone saw us together; they would not hesitate to kill either me or you in mere minutes.”

mio huffed. it wasn’t like mizu was wrong. she let her eyes rest on mizu's again, “I do understand that,” she sighed. “but you have to get that I have enough trust in you that you would not simply let that happen.”

mizu paused for a moment, listening to mio's words. she had an expression of surprise over her face; as if she couldn’t believe a lick of what mio had just said.

she let out a breath in a little huff, seemingly now not wanting to accept her words as truth. “I suppose.. you are not wrong, princess.” her eyes narrowed a little, “I wouldn’t let anyone lay a hand on you.”

mio couldn’t suppress a smile, her hand ruffling under mizu's over-coat, looking for the samurai’s hand. when she finally found it, her hand clasped around mizu's. they were rough, war torn. scratched and practically ripped to shreds from her years as a samurai.

but they were just right for mio.

mizu took a moment to adjust to the new feeling; but when she did, her grip was incredibly tight. she didn’t want to let her go; she didn’t want mio to go even an inch out of her sight.

mio was slightly surprised—they were walking along with ringo, to their next destination. and yet it was as if her words made any shred of doubt mizu had about their safety, about their relationship, was whisked away with a flick of her hand.

a warm, inviting light was up ahead. mizu pulled her forward with no hesitation, slipping inside. she seemed to know the swordsman and his men settled inside; and quickly pulled her little group into an empty room. lit by a fireplace and two mattresses lain about the floor. one for ringo, one for them.

“ringo?” mizu glanced over her shoulder with those piercing eyes, “go and shadow the swordsman for an hour or two; think of it as part of your training.”

mizu than glanced at mio, the slightest hint of a smirk on her samurai’s face. mio's eyes met hers, looking a little anxious. yet excited nonetheless—anytime she had with mizu was always good.

when ringo disappeared, mio cleared her throat.

“why do I have the feeling you're thinking something you shouldn’t be,” mio raised an eyebrow. “we are guests, here, mizu.. I’m sure we do not wish to.. bother the others here, yes?”

mizu was already busy, pulling off her glasses and hat. she placed them tenderly to the side, as well as her sword, hidden in the scabbard. when that was all said and done, she turned to mio. her footsteps came closer and close, til they were inches apart.

the samurai’s fingers pricked at mio's waist, drawing her in. she tugged her into her body by the hips. her face sat inches from mio's painted red lips.

“someone is bound to hear us,” mio practically murmured against mizu's lips, her eyes flickering from the woman's lips to her eyes ever few seconds.

“so what,” she hissed, her eyebrows creasing for a moment. “does it seem as if I care at the moment?”

mizu's earlier anxiety had washed away; washed back by comforting waves of mio’s presence. her trust. her touch, her love, her security. there was no need to be secretive; to beat around the bush when it came to them. she didn’t give a shit what anyone thought anymore; she was strong enough to take down any asshole who dared look wrong at her princess.

“no… it doesn’t,” mio muttered, closing the gap between them. she had one hand rested on mizu's chest, the other curling up around her samurai’s neck.

mizu pulled back for a moment, taking mio's hand and leading her to the mattress. Mio gave a breathy laugh; she was in for a night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: mizu sending her fucking apprentice away to fuck her girlfriend canon

tags: @jspidey5

#blue eyed samurai #mizu x oc #mizu #fanfic #sapphic #lesbian #fic #writers on tumblr #writing

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