#And under that surface level I feel so much anger | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

madockisser · 23 days

Note

Hi, I just finished reading Queen of nothing and I was looking through the books again.

The scene with the faerie fruit in TCP Carden throws the salt away (the antidote), I find that quite odd

Although as he's returned human servants before pricking their fingers seems like an easier thing than making them eat something salted?

Maybe there's no significance to it, it's just something that sticks in my mind for that scene and wondered if you had any thoughts on it

short cardan analysis / why did cardan throw the salt

hi! i am not sure i understand the question completely, so feel free to send another ask abt this, but i assume that you’re wondering why he threw the salt in the first place? i doubled this as a short cardan analysis/ scene analysis! hope u don’t mind!

if you’re asking: why bother with the salt at all, when jude has salt in her blood? not sure, but salting food destroys ensorcellment on that food, so she has to keep it on her anyway, opposed to pricking her finger and putting her blood on her food lol, BUT as for cardan..

at the faerie fruit scene, cardan does not yet recognize his feelings for jude as anything that isn’t hatred.

since jude is consuming his every thought, he’s frustrated, and eager to make her obey him, because he thinks that when she submits to him, stops opposing him, that he can finally stop thinking of her.

and so, he pushes valerian off when he’s atop her, choking her, bc he never wanted her to die. that is very clear to him from the start, he never wants to be like dain. but it’s unclear to jude bc she’s biased.

holly states that if cardan were a better person that he would’ve found a way to stop his friends sooner, which is true, but unfortunately, because of his upbringing, he is not.

now, he throws the salt in the air scattering it among the grass, because finally, he thinks that under influence of the faerie fruit, jude is going to submit to him.

in part, he does want to see her humiliated, brought down low, for bringing him down low with her. another part of him does want to see her hurt.

which is obvious. cardan hurts and humiliates faeries throughout the high and low courts. it’s just what he does.

but as the events progress, as nicasia makes her undress and humiliates her further, cardan finds himself irrationally upset.

because it turns out that cardan does not in fact like seeing jude hurt or like seeing her humiliated as he thought.

bc he hadn’t recognized his feelings for her yet. until i suspect, now, due to this scene.

anyway, i must sum up cardans character to help ppl understand, prince cardan acted as though he had no heart for a long time, to protect himself. because when he did act like he had a heart, ppl hurt him. his mother, dain, balekin, nicasia, locke even.

and so by pretending to not feel for jude made things easier, but when they both clashed and fought, he realized more and more how jude takes up his every thought, even when she shouldn’t. even when he was w nicasia.

and when jude was hurt and humiliated, he realized not just the surface level feelings of desrire, but how much he cared for her. how much he didn’t want to see her hurt, see her humiliated.

opposed to the many folk he hurt and humiliated and cast from court. bc jude was different. she wasn’t a courtier that bowed and smiled and faked at flattery, which he grew to find insufferable and angering.

she found him undeserving of princely treatment, and tried her hardest at fitting in, even when she very clearly was human. even when he thought that it was pointless and ridiculous.

cardan finds jude fascinating for many of her qualities, but as we see in htkoelths, this is one of them. and one of the first qualities in her that catches his eye. her determination. her unwillingness to give up and to submit.

which he didn’t understand, bc he’s fae and a prince and he doesn’t have to fit in, and she was a human and a bastard, so why put any effort into anything at all? why work hard for a short life? cardan does not understand humans, he’s a child, and he only interacted w glamoured humans before her and val moren.

anyway, it seems that jude and taryn were mostly left alone in gentry classes by cardan specifically, while valerian would harass jude himself (ex: when he stole her pen and madoc replaced it w a ruby one). until taryn started seeing locke which made nicasia upset.

that is when they full on started harassing them.

at this point cardan cared for nicasia(despite the cheating) which he admitted he hurt jude and taryn for her sake when he was kidnapped by jude,, but as a facade he pretended at wanting to hurt the twins just for funsies.

until he didn’t anymore, and it was fueled by jude’s “audacity” to fight back, and his hatred-desire for her.

meanwhile, valerian was struggling w the same hatred desire. except like 1000x more twisted and sick. bc he truly wanted to hurt and kill her. he is very unseelie.

and nicasia is searching for any opportunity to bring the twins low for taking locke from her.

and locke wants to make a game out of hurting taryn and jude and nicasia AND cardan (LOL) bc he knows that cardan wants jude, so he starts “seeing her” which drives literally everyone; taryn, nicasia, cardan, and perhaps even valerian mad (LOL) bc he’s a cunt

BUT the point i’m trying to make is that cardans friends ARE NOT really his friends bc they all wanna hurt him. intentionally or not. if it sates their desires then they’ll take it.

if cardan had started showing his care for jude.. i mean. it would be over. they already want an excuse to hurt jude as is, cardans just a bonus. and locke was actively already doing that, since he was the only one who had yet realized how cardan felt for her. if nicasia and valerian had realized?

i don’t think jude would’ve survived. but i do think that valerian did sorta know that cardan wanted her, but i think when he realized it was more than lust was when he crashed out and went to kill her.

why? bc, jude had always payed singular attention to cardan when they were harassing jude and taryn as a group, but to jude it was all “i hate cardan i hate cardan” and for cardan it was all “i hate jude i hate jude”

and valerian wanted jude, he wanted her to be as affected by his hurting her as it did when cardan hurt her. but it never did.

i think he realized this and crashed out and got high and tried to kill her.

so in short, i think he threw the salt as a guise to his buddies, to 1, appear as though he didn’t have a heart (like usual) so that they wouldn’t realize he cared for her and hurt her more bc of it, and 2, he knew jude’s blood has salt content, so he could always (and did) resort to that, and 3 bc he thought that he wanted jude hurt and humiliated, but as it was happening, he didn’t like it and began realizing how he truly felt for her

below are holly blacks official annotations, which are canon, so pls read the pen markings!! very important!!

this was SUPER messy i literally just threw this together the second i saw it so i’m sorry! hope this helped tho!! 🫶🫶🫶 feel free to add on!

70 notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 10 months

Text

take it from me | barou shouei ft. isagi yoichi

✮ tags ; gender neutral / fem!reader + afab!reader (reader is referred to as girlfriend but uses they/them pronouns), cucking, petnames (baby, beautiful), fingering, dry-humping, breeding (mentions of getting someone pregnant and kids etc.), 18+

✮ wc ; 2.7k

✮ synopsis ; barou doesn’t like anything isagi has planned for him, but he never backs down from a fight either.

✮ a/n ; a fic a beloved anon commissioner has allowed me to post! also... if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a fic with isagi cucking someone... i'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice right

It’s easy to get on Barou’s nerves.

But it’s hard to get under his skin.

Very hard. Harder than most people actually understand, because people get a kick out of riling him up. They often get upset when he realizes and stops being mad at all. Surface level frustration is commonplace for Barou, but that skin deep stuff is hard to come by. And whatever does get him truly angry is usually justifiable, understandable. Strangers don’t make this distinction about him but he knows it to be true.

It’s rare, unusual - to get under his skin so fucking consistently.

But Isagi always does.

That shitty little egoist has a talent for bothering him with his antics. Every person who’s ever told Barou off for being egotistical doesn’t know shit about shit. They don’t know the kind of egoism Isagi bears, the kind that’s subtle until it isn’t. Until it’s in your face at your lowest, opportunistic and evil.

He’s fine off the field. Almost innocent when they sit around together for a drink. Off the field, he blushes when he gets any advances and doesn’t carry that same energy. But Barou knows better, can’t let his guard down because when everyone is distracted it slips. Barou sees the way Isagi looks. Plans. Manipulates for what he wants. He should’ve been able to guess that Isagi’s bet on their last match was a ploy to get something he wanted.

But Isagi knows in what way he can push Barou’s buttons. So after carefully placed insults and pushes, a bet was made.

If Isagi’s team won their next match, he got to fuck Barou’s girlfriend. In front of him.

Of course his first answer was fuck no. Barou’s not stupid, wasn’t planning on giving that shitty little brat an inch because Barou knew he’d take a mile. Isagi, though, got under his skin. Pushed and pushed, making digs about Barou being worried about you. Isagi knows that Barou is confident in his soccer, as much as he is in his feelings - but Barou can’t let up to that kind of push. Can’t allow Isagi to think for even a minute he can’t satisfy you. In a fit of anger, Barou says he’ll agree if you do.

And to his surprise, you do - but you’re demure about it. Not that you need anyone but Barou, you assure, but you do want to support his confidence in himself. Sweet thing like you always are, gentle with batted lashes and a hand on his chest.

Barou loves you, would’ve said fuck no again if you showed even the slightest bit of hesitation. Instead, you looked up at him with clear eyes and a gentle smile.

Fine. Barou agrees to play Isagi’s shitty game. He’ll win the next match and it’ll be over.

Except, he doesn’t win.

It’s a close match, but Isagi’s team manages to get one goal in - Isagi himself striking it into the net. As soon as it’s called, only seconds before the last buzzer goes off, Isagi looks at Barou directly. Grins as he scores, smiles like Japan’s sweetheart when everything is over.

Barou wouldn’t go as far as describing his feelings as dread. Dread implies that he’s lacking confidence. It’s more like he was pissed. Pissed that Isagi got his way, pissed that the match was so fucking close, pissed as he was relaying the news to you on the way home. A nightmare of a situation - ultimately.

But Barou is a man of his word.

And as man of his word, Barou puts you three in a groupchat with Isagi. There’s some hoopla about getting to know each other. Barou can appreciate Isagi’s efforts to make you comfortable, despite knowing it’s bare minimum. There’s something real about his approach, his desire. Isagi wants to fuck you as you, as much as he does because you’re Barou’s girlfriend. He just wants you, and Barou isn’t entirely sure what to make of that.

He isn’t sure if that makes his fuck-up worse or better. But he’s here now, and there’s nothing he can do.

He doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. He’s supposed to just watch, and he has some qualms about jacking off while you’re being fucked by someone else. It’s weirder to be in his position though, to just sit and look on as Isagi lays hands on you.

Barou loathes knowing Isagi’s preferences, loathes even more that they have similar tastes. You’re wearing white lace and thin straps and mascara that isn’t waterproof per request. You're beautiful in a way that Barou knows to be normal for you, but still feels impressed by.

And Isagi is there.

While Barou is looking at you, eyes fixated on your silhouette - your expression is turned to Isagi. Bright eyes, fluttery lashes, lips that are parted and pouty. Your hands are clamped up at your sides, thighs trembling. You’re nervous, it’s written all over your face. Isagi is hovering over you - speaking in quiet whispers until you smile or laugh. He gets you comfortable with the way he talks, much faster than Barou could’ve in a situation like this. He’s a people person, notably. Barou can’t hear what Isagi is telling you so secretively.

But it must have something to do with him, given the way you glance over at him and Isagi turns your face gently back his way. He’s not a participant here, not playing on the field. He’s a fly on the wall, a watcher - a passive one, and he isn’t sure if it’s too early or not to be pissed.

“Shouei,” You whisper despite Isagi’s efforts to make you forget him. Barou stills “It'll be okay.”

Barou breathes out at you, softening his features. Isagi’s touch on your body doesn’t make him lunge out of his seat this time.

Isagi kisses you when Barou is looking. From where he’s sitting, he can see it clearly. You crane your neck up like you usually do when you kiss, and Isagi has a hand around the side of your face. He doesn’t know what to think, what to feel - so he focuses on you.

Your lips part, and Isagi puts his tongue in your mouth. Puts his tongue in and nips, laps at the gloss of your mouth until you give in. Your hands clasp around the end of Isagi’s shirt, a flash of innocence.

It’s an explicit way to kiss, lewd. Suggestive. Barou thinks this is intentional. He can’t wrap his head around why Isagi would want to fuck you dirty other than his own preferences. But there’s more to it. So much more underneath the surface of his desire that makes Barou want to get up and punch his lights out.

But he doesn’t. He keeps his hands tucked at his side, and watches as you squirm. There’s something dirty about the desperation in your every gesture. Isagi keeps kissing you as he slowly undoes you.

He starts with kissing your jaw after thoroughly making your head blank. Isagi lets his lips trail over the corner of your mouth, the angle of your jaw, the space where your shoulder meets your neck. There’s no romance laced in it, only lust. Your face twists with each bite and his hands make quick work out of touching you in every place other than where you need. He breaks you apart in careful, calculated moves. Exploits all your sensitivities. His hands squeeze the softness of your chest, groaning at the way it feels in between his fingers.

He teases your nipples, flicking and rubbing them until you’re wiggling away from the feeling. He licks and bites at the tender flesh, sucking harsh enough to make a wet sound.

Barou busies himself with counting all the differences, and measures his own touch up to it. How different it is. The way Isagi is touching you lacks delicacy, finesse.

There are a few moments where you pause, glancing at him to say something. But when Isagi touches you, you can’t get the words out. His groping isn’t very romantic.

But you like it, don’t you? You do. It’s in your face. In your blissed out eyes, and the subtle flutters of your tummy and the legs wrapped around Isagi’s waist when he humps you. Ruts the hard shape of his cock against your clothed, wet cunt and makes you whimper like you’ve been hit. He’s groping you like he’s only known sex from dirty magazines or porn on DVD, but you like it. You’re so engrossed in the feeling that every word you have for him dies in your mouth, gets washed away by your desire.

Isagi makes a show out of humping you, once you both get into it. The two of you break apart only briefly. He peels his shirt back as he sits up on his knees, pulls his pants down enough to just be in his boxers. He lets his hard cock rest against your pussy, still in his boxers. Gripping your thighs, he thrusts - slow and deliberate until the tip pushes into your swollen clit. You cry out, your hands still fisted and trembling around your size. Isagi narrates this time, loud enough for Barou to hear. The sound of his voice grates on Barou’s nerves.

“You’re so fucking wet,” He punctuates, laughing - harshly at that “Do you like when I’m a little mean?”

Your hands curl, and you clam up - but Isagi doesn’t let you shy away. Instead he keeps thrusting his hips over and over, gripping your jaw to make you look up at him. Your eyes are blown so wide, wetness pooling at your lashes as the sensation drives you over. Barou would’ve touched you by now, but Isagi does not.

“That brute is a gentleman to you, huh. I’m a little surprised.” Isagi says conversationally, making Barou’s whole body tense. “But you look like you need to be fucked a little mean. I almost want to make you cry.”

Barou goes to interject, he wants too - but you moan. And Isagi laughs at you again.

“Is that what you want? Hm? Want me to fuck you?”

“Hngh, please.” Your voice nearly breaks as you whimper “Wan’ you to fuck me.”

Shit. Barou is hard.

Isagi grins “That’s what I like to hear,”

Isagi moves, pulling himself away from you. He lifts your legs to take your panties off, and tosses them somewhere carelessly before sitting back. He spreads your legs, coating his middle fingers with saliva before positioning himself.

He hovers over as he lets his fingers dip down to your cunt, brushing over your swollen clit. He ignores your cry out from neglect. You wrap your arms around his neck as he keeps himself upright with free hand, kissing you softly as he starts to finger you. He doesn’t give you room to breathe, doesn’t let you pull away as his fingers start to stretch you open. You mewl at his ministrations, paw at him and kiss him desperately. There’s such a whiny quality to your moaning, one that Barou has only ever heard in bits and pieces before this.

He watches as one finger scissors you open then another. You take it well, don’t complain even Isagi takes his sweet time pressing up against your soft spot. Once you’re all stretched and light headed, he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“Now you’re ready for me,” Isagi mumbles, looking you over “Gonna fuck you nice and full, yeah? Wanna let him see you?”

Dazed, you nod. Barou goes to ask what he fucking means by that, but the words never make it out. He watches instead, as Isagi maneuvers you to roll onto your side.

While Isagi comes to lay behind you. The angle you’re at gives Barou a perfect front view of your body, down the smallest details. He can see the traces of saliva left on your skin, the soft indents of marks. Everything stops, his breath hitching as he gets an eye full of your face. Sheer bliss on your features, shining with a sheen of sweat. Your eyes are glossed over, glassy.

Before Barou can think at all, he finds a hand at his waist - rubbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. Isagi’s arm circles around your middle as his chin rests on your shoulder. You pick your leg up to give him easier access to you.

Barou watches intently as Isagi’s cock pushes against your entrance. Your tight hole stretches around the swollen tip as your voice starts to tremble. Isagi curses behind you, quiet as he eases himself inside. He fills you up deliberately, inch by inch pushing into your hot cunt until he’s all the way bottomed out. Your eyes are nearly rolled back into your head from bliss, mouth agape and drooling. Isagi lets his hand travel down to your clit, his middle finger rubbing soft circles into the bundle of nerves. He bottoms out with a deep sigh.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” Isagi groans, pulling out before pushing in again in one thrust “Makes me wanna cum in you so bad, fuck.”

Barou can see how much the words affect you. Isagi must feel it.

“Shit, you want that, huh?” He laughs, breathless and entertained by your desire. He fucks up into you now, starts his pace off slow - the sound of your pussy filling up the room “Want me to cum in you instead of pull out? Give you a baby?”

You gasp, shudder at the prospect. Isagi is fucking you raw, where Barou is almost always using condoms. He should be pissed beyond what he thought possible, and some part of him is. But another part of him, even quieter, is fixated on the pure pleasure you’re getting out of it. Out of being fucked raw by someone who’s basically a stranger.

Isagi, ever the egoist, sees the opportunity and runs with it. He fucks into you harder, gives it to you deeper with a vicious smile.

“I’ll knock you up, beautiful. Want it so bad, of course I’ll fuck it right into you,” Isagi croons, his voice edging on sadistic but mostly saccharine sweet “Hear that, Barou? Aren’t you lucky, ‘m giving your girlfriend a winner's baby. Maybe you could teach ‘em to play soccer.”

Barou feels his own irritation bubble into his throat - but he can’t be fully angry when you look the way you do. When your whole body tenses and trembles every time Isagi thrusts his cock into you, like you’re practically begging for him to breed you full. No matter what Isagi does, it’s not like Barou could ever be agitated with you, and god - you look like you feel good.

Your voice is choked out as Barou watches you get tipped over the edge. He feels his own cock twitch from neglect, but refuses to let himself go any further. Despite how painful it is to not touch himself. You reach for the sheets as your eyes go wide, fluttering back into your skull.

“Gonna cum, Isagi, Isagi” Your voice is hoarse and trembling “S-somethin’ gonna come out.”

Isagi keeps pace, fucking you how you need.

“Let’s cum together, yeah? Cum with me so your pussy can swallow up all of it, make sure you’re bred nice and full.”

You nod dumbly and hold it in despite yourself, and Barou watches you as you make a mess. Watches all of your arousal drip and stain the sheets as Isagi fucks you, how you’re so wet you nearly push him out. You bite your lip and take his cock like it’s nothing, his grip on your waist nearly bruising. Your shoulders sag with relief as he finally gets close.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” He warns, then a little softer “Let’s cum together? Cum with beautiful.”

Barou watches you as you. You cum and you cum hard, hard enough that your eyes squeeze shut and your whole body tightens before breaking out into trembles. You’re convulsing as you pull away from his cock, a wet rush spilling as you finish. Isagi groans as you squirt all over him and the sheets, the mess of his seed mixing as you lay down.

You nearly collapse into the bed beneath you, trembling as Isagi kisses your shoulder. Then for the first time, he looks over to acknowledge him.

“It’d be rude to give them just one right?” Isagi says, giving Barou a cocky glance “Don’t hold it in so much.”

“Fuck you,” Barou curses, groaning.

It’s gonna be a long, long night.

#barou x reader #isagi x reader #barou smut #isagi smut #bllk x reader #writing tag

261 notes · View notes

dreamywriter143 · 1 year

Note

HIIIII! LOVE YOUR WRITING BABES!

How about a neteyam x reader but like toe curling smut? maybe with some degradation?

if your requests are open!

-xoxo

Tease

Status: Imagine/Drabble

Parings: Warrior Neteyam x Metkayina Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI, Suggestive Content, Fingering (cum eating?), Exhibition/Public, Neteyam being a Tease, Frustrated Neteyam, Dirty talk, Degradation?? The nickname 'Slut' used like once?

Summary: Neteyam had been busy with duties and unable to spend to much time with his dear mate. The term frustrated would be a understatement to what he felt as he hungrily eyes his mate. Would the presence of his brother and friends stop him form claiming what's his?

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Thank you for the Request Anon! Again, smut isn't my strong suit, and I didn't like how this story turned out. But at least I tried...... I'm so sorry Anon, I hope its kind of close to what you envisioned! I hope you guys enjoy!

__________________________________

Y/n forces her eyes shut, as if doing so would prevent her from letting out the moan she tried to hold back. Which she somehow by the miracle of Ewya, managed to do so The way she harshly bit down on her lips to prevent anything from escaping, almost drawing blood, her hands clenched into tight fists as if to ground herself.

Her steady breathing falters as she feels Neteyam press his body against hers. His hair tickles her shoulders as he leans down to her ear level, breathing in her scent deeply. She felt his broadened muscles flex against her back, how hard he felt against her soft flesh left little to the imagination.

Y/n peek’s through to see if anyone else had noticed, luckily for her they hadn't. At least, not yet.

But that didn't stop a certain someone’s relentless teasing. If anything it provoked them to work harder for a louder reaction from the pleading female Na’vi who shivers under his touch.

“What's wrong Yawne? Getting a little….hot?” Neteyam teasingly whispers near her ear, his breath tickling against her skin alluringly. Y/n wanted to fight back, whip her head around and wipe that smug smirk of his handsome face. But she didn't want to risk moving at the moment. Not when she knew that if she did, she wouldn't be able to hold back her cries.

“Mhm? What's wrong?” He hums softly, his eyes dancing around her stiff figure under him. His free hand reaches out of the water to rest on her slender hips, tracing patterns along her skin teasingly, the heat from his hand alone sends a pleasurable shiver down her spine as her eyes snap open.

“You usually love running your mouth, why the silent treatment ?” Neteyam tries again, chuckling softly at her tensed up state. His eyes wander over to the rest of their friends around them, swimming around playfully under the night sky. Completely unaware of what was happening just below the surface.

After a day spent well the friends all decided to go for a late night swim to watch the stars. Kiri desperately needed to clear her head from all the new information she had been learning from Ronal, so the group immediately accepted Rotxo’s suggestion to let loose.

They had swam pretty far out, near a small secluded island where they set their belongings. The swim that initially started out innocent and fun quickly turned heated once Neteyam’s frustration clouded his thoughts. He had been itching for some time alone with Y/n, so when Y/n agreed on the outing so easily, he was angry. Angry and severely touch deprived.

He set his piercing yellow orbs on his mate as if to burn a hole through her existence. He let his anger and longing cloud his thoughts as he eagerly watched her. She looked so beautiful, so luscious under the moonlight. He couldn't help but feel himself harden under his tewng (Loincloth) as he watched the way her hips swayed along her steps. It was as if she was asking for his attention. Teasing him for a reaction.

It didn't help that Neteyam had been terribly busy with his duties as of late, working tirelessly to be the best warrior he can be for his newly appointed clan. He missed his true home dearly, but he loved Awa'atlu equally due to Y/n. The love of his life. And currently, that very same minx tempted him right in front of his brother and friends.

Just as the entire group dispersed into the sea, splashing around playfully. Neteyam snuck up to his mate, his eyes focusing on her tinier form , closing in on her as a predator to a prey.

He let the following actions speak for themselves as he immediately pulled her against his hard body. He caught her before she could follow the rest into the deeper part of the sea, keeping her in the shallows where the water reached a bit higher than Neteyam’s waistline.

Neteyam lets out a satisfied sign at the feeling, letting his need shine through as he rubbed himself against her back. His prominent bulge pushed against her back with vigor. Y/n had been clueless to his need, so he needed to remind her what he so desperately wanted. In a way she brought this on herself for not realizing what he wanted when she agreed to accompany everyone else. And Neteyam planned on making her regret that decision dearly.

“They don't even know how stuffed you are, my love. How tightly you clench against my fingers so deliciously. It's like you don't want to let go.” Neteyam whispers, his fingers pumping in and out of her puffy cunt under the water. Luckily it was dark enough that none were able to see how closely Neteyam latched on to Y/n’s back. Or how the tip of his hard cock peaked from his loincloth as precum dribbled down. Soaking Y/n’s back as he slowly rocked himself against her.

Y/n let’s out a tiny whine at his words, her tight hot walls clenching against his fingers that have been stuffed deep within her tight hole for the fast few minutes.

“Oh? You like that, don't you?” Neteyam chuckles in amusement, his ears twitching excitedly. He leans in closer to Y/n, breathing in heavily. His pupils dilate upon inhaling her scent from the close proximity. He could smell her, he could smell her arousal through her scent.

“Do you like the idea of being watched? Of our friends seeing how easily you submit to me like a dirty little slut?” Neteyam whispers. His tone lanced with urgency, with desire. Y/n wouldn’t be surprised if Neteyam took her right then and there, not caring about getting caught or seen. Only fueled by his frustration and the overflowing need to fuck her.

Y/n shakes her head a no, leaning her head back to rest against his broad chest. She took in deep breaths, quiet and nearly silent mewls leaving her lips. She wanted to rub her thighs together for more friction but the fear of getting caught consumed her.

“Hm? Would you like me to stop?” Neteyam peers over to her, grabbing her chin with his free hand and turning her head to face him. Y/n lets out a strangled moan at his hard grip which only causes her to shiver in pleasure.

“N-no..”

“Hm? I didn't quite catch that yawne,”

“N-no s-sir” Y/n whimpers, her body stilling when she notices that Lo’ak and Tsireya swam a little closer to them. Luckily their attention had not turned over to them. But with how close they were at the moment she couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear. She tries to turn her head but Neteyam’s grip holds her in place, his face inches away from her.

“That right baby. Do you need me? Do you need to be fucked?” Neteyam growled lowly, his hard cock rutting against her back with need. He was reaching his peak, his limit. He was so close to fucking her without a care in the world. He was that desperate. The feeling of his hard cock sends Y/n into a state a bliss, forgetting her fear entirely.

“Y-Yes please sir. Let me p-please you”

Y/n whispers, her eyes growing heavy with lust. She couldn't focus on anything else, with how he stared into her soul, she saw his eyes pool with passion and desire. He wanted her, he needed her bad. Who was she to deny him?

“Yes you will, been neglecting this pussy for so long. Let me show her some love?” Neteyam breathes out, his rationality leaving him. He looks towards the group, unable to wait any longer. Standing up straighter he clears his throat which causes the group to slowly turn to him. Y/n freezes immediately, being mindfully aware that Neteyam's thick fingers were still buried deep inside of her.

“We're going to call it a day, see you later guys” He states, receiving nods of approval. All agreeing and going back to relaxing in the water. All, but one.

“Y/n” Ao’nung calls his tone of concern.

The boy's sudden voice, and so close causes Y/n to jolt up as she squeaks in surprise. Neteyam freezes in his spot, his eyes watching over the interaction. He smirk crosses his face as he watches Y/n's embarrassed blush trail from her cheeks down to her neck.

“Y-es?”

“You look flushed, are you alright?”

Y/n instantly clenches against Neteyam’s fingers, who stares at Ao’nung with a deadly glare. Clearly she was busy, how dare he interrupt them?

“W-well you see, I'm feeling a bit faint….but It's all ok though, nothing to-ahhh~~”

Y/n jostles at the feeling of Neteyam fingers moving deep inside her cunt. Though they thrust in and out of her pussy at a slow pace, the stretch it provided was unlike anything she felt. Her eyes roll back as she lets a whine slip past her lips. She forgot about the fact Ao’nung was a few feet away from her, watching her with curious eyes.

Neteyam smirks triumphantly, returning his gaze back to the male Na’vi.

“Sorry Ao’nung, as you can see she is quite busy.” Neteyam says behind her, pulling his fingers out causing her to whine out loud at the sudden loss of fullness. Ao’nung smiles awkwardly, his eyes twitching in confusion. He gives Neteyam a nod before backing up, his eyes glancing over Y/n’s flushed face once more before he turns to leave.

“He wants you so bad” Neteyam grumbles, bringing his soaked fingers up to lick clean. His tongue laps up Y/n’s essence as he closes his eyes savoring the taste. He loses himself in the sensation, letting out a breathy moan. Y/n shakily turns around, her cunt throbbing at this point.

“Forget that, finish what you started. Please” Y/n whispers, pressing up against her mate. Her perky nipples press against her top causing her to hiss.

Neteyam chuckles, using his large arms to lift her up with ease, her wobbly legs immediately latching on to his waist.

“You’re so needy today” Neteyam teases, his legs carrying him towards the shore. Y/n rolls her eyes, her low lip jutting out into a pout.

“Now you know how I've felt all day, and you've barely noticed.” Neteyam points out, a devilish smile dancing along his lips. His hands rested against her cheeks groping and fondling the curvy mounds before giving them a squeeze. Y/n gasps at the sensation, her mind hazing over at the new feeling.

Y/n sighs out, her thighs squeezing against his waist. She felt his bulge press through his loincloth as it pressed against her heat. She hisses at the feeling, humping against it earning a grunt from Neteyam.

“Neteyam…..you are such a tease”

__________________________________

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Sorry if its not good enough.......

584 notes · View notes

calamiitywrites · 6 days

Text

— qimir x osha

apothecary headcanon: a headcanon, mostly from osha's pov, of the apothecary scene.

note from author: So, we've been lowkey talking about this scene on my oshamir discord server because I pointed out how watery osha's eyes are in the scene. It made me feel like there was so much going on in her head the entire time this scene was happening and I just wanted to put my own spin on her thoughts. this is all from my own theories so please do not adopt it as truth. I would actually love to see other interpretations of this scene so if you have one please let me know / comment etc. thanks! - calamiity

The moon was her only friend with the way that it hid her secrets in the night. She would have preferred to work under its cover, but Sol and the others demanded answers now—and so did she.

Mae, was alive. That meant that she had survived the fire and had been living all this time. Where had she been hiding? Why had she returned now? What drove her to kill Jedi, and for how long had she been doing so? — so many questions, but no answers to satiate them. Just an endless precession of her screaming into the void praying to hear something back. Only to be faced with the darkness no different than the darkness that surrounded her now.

It curled its impeccable fingers around her and danced against the midnight blue cloak that she threw on to her body to resemble the phantom who wore her face. It was both a comfort and a torment; a guise that filled her body with a level of unease so powerful that it made her body ache.

Each breath she took rattled against her lungs with a sense of self loathing and discomfort. she felt like a stranger in her own skin and the moment she walked into the apothecary shop, she felt as though she were a marionette manipulated by strings that were far too short to get the job done.

Her body moved slowly across the front window of the shop and her reflection caught her eye in a twisted mockery of reality. she was nothing more than a semblance of the sister she once knew, a stranger whose form inspired nothing but betrayal and anger. Every detail of her disguise was a contribution of the deceit that she was meant to embody. Her walk, her cloak, the intricate style of her hair and even her tone. How was she meant to personify a sister that she didn't know? They shared nothing but a face, a mere shadow of kinship. Why was it so difficult for them to get that, beneath the surface, their very essences were in contrast?

“Hello...” The word slipped from her lips with a voice that was distant and cold. So altered and strange that it reverberated with an unfamiliar authority which was in complete opposite to the trembling anxiety within her.

"Hello." He responded casually.

"Hi."

"Hi." he retorted, the simplicity of his reply holding a sense of humor that seemed to mock her. "You alright? You're back so early."

There was a subtle shift in his tone, a smooth transition from casual to what sounded like concern. This surprised her to the point where she was nearly startled. If he was really just someone that Mae had bought a poison from then why did he bear such an emotional weight? Even his transition from behind the counter to align himself with her and offer his full attention suggested a deeper connection. Was it possible that he and Mae were more to each other than she first thought?

His words were smooth and enigmatic the way they wrapped around her like a silken thread, pulling at her curiosity leaving her with no choice but to engage. she couldn't lie, the concern reflected in his tone pleased her. it reminded her of how sol used to interact with her before she began working on the ship.

Every muscle in her body tensed, every nerve was on edge and she struggled to maintain the fragile mask of composure. In an effort to save her face from falling into a look of utter despair, her eyes ventured off to the boiling pot in the distance for a distraction.

"I wanted to see you." It was a risky confession to play on her suspicions, but when his eyes lit up in response she lifted her chin in an effort to avoid the feeling of her facade threatening to suffocate her.

"To see me, oh....Mae ...uh are you ok? Did the poison work?" his surprise was clear and his confusion seemed genuine.

She couldn't suppress the slight nod of her head as the realization of her mistake set in. It was as if an audible light bulb had flickered to life in her mind, so loud that she feared he might hear it. If they weren't friends then what were they?

Her overall sense of confusion gave way to an overwhelming anger at the idea that she was even being forced to do this in the first place. She had devoted her entire life to the Jedi. Every step she made was meant to bring her closer to her dream of being her own person. Yet here she was, forced to embody someone else. Her life was meant to be her own, but the Jedi had made it relatively clear that the only value she had to them was if she became a mere shadow of herself. They simply needed her to play the role of Mae — to wear a deceitful mask to extract crucial information. There was no proving herself. There was no working her way up. She would never be good enough for them.

The only reason she wasn't a jedi now was because of the decisions of Mae. The reason her coven was dead was because of Mae. The reason she was arrested was because of Mae. The reason she was here, talking to him, right now, was because of Mae. Mae's decisions had stolen her life, claimed her coven, led to her arrest and now her every action was dictated by the remnants of Mae.

Mae. Mae. Mae.

Did anyone ever wonder about Osha? Did anyone ask how she felt about discovering her sister was alive? Did anyone question her thoughts on the possibility of capturing or even killing Mae?

"You're acting so strange." He continued, but she could barely hear him over her own thoughts.

It’s not fair. Why am I even here with him? The Jedi didn’t destroy our family; Mae did. Killing Indara, Kelnaka, Torbin, and Sol won’t undo any of that. Why can’t she just take responsibility for her actions? Why did she have to set that fire? Why did she have to cause all of this mess? I just want to be myself—why is that so selfish? I hate her. I shouldn’t hate her… she’s lost, confused. It’s wrong to harbor hatred for her. She’s my sister. She’s family. If I hate her, doesn’t that make me just as bad?

"Wait...You killed Torbin without the poison, he will be so pleased." he continued with a voice laced in satisfaction. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that he had gotten closer to her. There was a brief moment of hesitation on her part where she had half a mind to back away, but it was too late.

"No I used it, I just wanted to thank you." her voice was barely above a whisper. She couldn't speak louder without revealing the tremor in her tone. She couldn't tell if it was rage or sorrow, but it was so intense that she could almost taste it. She was losing her control and the sight of his eyes on her simply made it worse. It was as if he were drinking in every movement she made, there was no room for error.

But it hurt. so. much. The pain of betrayal, the torment of loss, and the agony of deceit all came together, creating a storm that reflected in a rage behind her eyes. She was trapped in between her own chaos and the quiet atmosphere of his shop.

There is a sense of clarity in his eyes and they flickered to her lips in a way that was more intimate than what she was expecting. Did he see them quiver? Did he notice her attempt to keep them pressed together to stave off tears?

He moved again, closing the distance between them with a dangerous proximity that seemed almost predatory. It was something about the way his eyes looked at her that caused her to pause. It wasn't the casual look of concern like before, there was realization in his eyes. They searched her face and for a moment she could swear that he saw her.

"You look.....exactly like her." He muttered as if didn't mean to say it aloud. Even though his words were clear to her, she couldn't move. It was his eyes that held her in place. They searched her face, moved down her frame and drank in her posture in a way that made her feel exposed in more ways than one. It wasn't until his eyes returned to hers that she felt an ominous intent that she couldn't decipher, an edge that left her trembling.

She wanted to question him. She wanted to get to the bottom of his relationship with Mae and how he knew she wasn't her. But the distant, echoing sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. With a sharp intake of breath, she instinctively lifted her gun and stepped away from him.

The Jedi would get to the bottom of this.....

#osha x qimir fanfic #qimir x osha #osha and qimir #osha aniseya #oshamir #osha the acolyte #osha x qimir #star wars the acolyte #star wars #star wars qimir #qimir the acolyte #qimir #qimir fanfic #osha fanfiction #qimir fanfiction #osha apothecary scene #qimir apothecary scene #osha headcanon #headcanon

34 notes · View notes

intrulogical · 11 months

Text

remus isn't dumb; a sanders sides essay

i've been struggling to make a cohesive post about this because i feel like most of what i want to say boils down to the same underlying message which is: remus isn't dumb.

i feel like a good chunk of this fandom understands what i mean, at least to a surface level point. but even then, i think too much of the fandom still misinterprets remus' character in a way that, they seem to understand different traits of his, but the way they execute it is still way off from what we see in canon.

(rest of the essay under the cut!)

for example, the biggest thing i see people get wrong would be the way they write remus "lol random" personality. it's true that remus tends to say whatever he wants at any given moment. but, the problem here is that people tend to think remus as random in function. i have no better way to describe this succinctly, so to expound: while remus tends to make left-field jokes a lot, he is shown to be incredibly deliberate, cunning, committed, and intelligent in very subtle ways.

truth is, remus is very goal-oriented, and when he has a goal, oh he strives for that goal. so far, i'm writing this with the last 5 years episode being the most recent substantial episode, so i can't really 100% say all my assumptions of remus are true. actually, i think the upcoming season finale will be the missing link when it comes to providing us with the whole picture of who remus is.

as for now, i just have to stick with my theory of; remus, as a side of thomas' heavily connected to insecurities and mental health issues, intends to shed light on the "darker" sides of thomas because he believes them to be beneficial. throughout dwit, we see remus continuously bolster the idea that his contributions are useful for thomas. this continues in wtit, but with the extra layer of remus wanting logan as well to be in touch with the darker parts of himself to get thomas in line.

it is also heavily implied that remus is well in on whatever janus' plan is to get thomas to be a.) more aware of his mental health issues, and b.) to get thomas to break out of his catholic black and white thinking. in forbidden fruit, it's janus who’s seen permitting remus to present himself to thomas. bigger evidence though, as i've mentioned in the previous paragraph, is the way remus seems to deliberately want logan to manifest his anger against thomas.

of course, we can always say that remus taunted logan "just for fun", but i feel like too much of what happened in wtit seem to point to remus having deeper reasons. for example, wtit exhibits how bad thomas' mental health is to the point that he gets irrationally angry at nico for not replying to his texts. this proves how thomas has been neglecting his mental health, and with the way patton, virgil, and roman held onto toxic selfless ideologies for the longest time, thomas would still, naturally, be lost on what to do. he would even seem to deny how bad things have gotten, especially with the way he acts like nothing bad is happening when he goes to his date with nico.

why am i emphasizing this? well, it's because something i find interesting about remus' character is how deeply cognizant he is of thomas' problems. what i mean by this is, no other side can call out thomas' issues more than remus can. i wrote an essay about this before if you want to check this out, but tldr: remus, as intrusive thoughts, is the most perceptive out of all the sides when it comes to calling out insecurities or problems. we see this come to fruition in wtit when all of the traps he laid out for thomas involved nico in some capacity.

while you can interpret his character as evil for preying on others’ insecurities, i think it's important to acknowledge that, in a sea of people who tend to refuse to talk about their issues, remus is the main guy who constantly brings them to the table. whether remus' intentions are good or not, there's no denying that remus' importance as a side lies in the fact that he serves as a mental health alarm clock for thomas. with the way none of the sides want to communicate with each other, we need someone like remus to cut the bullshit and say things as it is.

again, we don't really know if he wants to help thomas. but i would like to emphasize that, yes, remus is not dumb. he does not merely make lewd jokes and calls it a day. he has the long-term goal of making everyone talk about more "taboo" topics with each other, and this includes talking about personal grievances the sides tend to suppress or refuse to talk about. lewd jokes are just part of the process.

i think this goal of his is also incredibly visible with the way remus treated logan in wtit. wtit is my favorite sanders sides episode because there's just so much to analyze between remus and logan, but you can check my other essays in regards to that. the main thing i wanted to point out is that what remus says to logan in the end, "woowee logan, now you're speaking my language. but who do you really want to scream that at?", proves he is more deliberate and cunning than he seems.

a lovely bit of analysis my friend orb (@orbmanson7) provided is that remus didn't just pop up in wtit to intervene with thomas' plans. he was there to intervene with logan's. if you've seen my other essays, i've talked about how logan as a side has been dwindling in terms of self-confidence and assertion. this has left a big problem of thomas being more reliant on his emotions, making him ignore the suggestions given by logan that may help with thomas' mental health in the long run. this is not to villainize thomas' mental health crisis, btw. all i want to say is that, remus recognizes how logan's self-restriction is doing no good and deliberately wants to push logan to become more assertive and angry.

that is why he says logan is speaking his language. he wants logan to recognize the merit in the way remus grabs thomas' attention. he wants logan to be like him and cause more havoc. again, we never know how much remus genuinely wants to help thomas, but we know that remus wants everyone to be more exposed to "taboo" things, and this includes logan being more in touch with his angrier side.

besides that, i'd like to mention how, in general, remus tends to be very committed to his goals more than how the fandom typically portrays him? in dwit, remus' main goal was to disturb thomas and the other sides. it's kind of just an introduction to his character. we're not sure if it's part of a bigger plan he and janus devised to get thomas to take care of himself better, but it is a possibility. the only time he gets too random is when logan begins picking apart his arguments. there we see remus only results to super left-field, continuous off-tangent jokes when he's desperate or placed in a lose-lose situation.

another, in wtit, we see how remus understands how to make very long, complicated traps. i think it's a perfect encapsulation of his personality, actually! throughout the episode, we see him make these multilayered traps with a ton of props and preparation just so he can bother thomas with it. it shows that remus is actually less impulsive-oriented as he seems. he even created a schedule he showed to logan detailing everything he wanted to do that day. again, deliberate! he is deliberate and very smart!

other thing i'd like to harken back to is the idea that he's in cahoots with the other dark sides to execute some Big Plan to break thomas out of his black and white thinking. while we don't know how orange acts like yet, we're Very familiar with janus by this point and we can see how long-drawn janus' plan of acceptance is. he's, again, sorry to use the word so many times, very deliberate. i don't even think his plan ends with svs.r, because it does seem like remus is well in on this plan too. in the 5 years video, he also seems to know more than thomas on what else is to come for the future of sanders sides, which implies he has some plans up his sleeve that no one else knows about. like i said, janus has the goal to break thomas out of his black and white thinking. and so far from what we've seen from remus, he also wants the same!

an important factor of remus' character besides his deliberateness is his general need to subvert what "goodness" means. "good and bad are all made up nonsense," he sings in forbidden fruit. throughout dwit he continuously criticizes everything thomas thinks is good or acceptable. in the 5 years video, he argues about how there's no "correct way of sitting". i think this also proves how remus is important as a side because, while not every single one of his beliefs are morally acceptable, he is still able to pick morality apart in a way the other sides are unable to. also, i just think this proves his character as just. generally smart? he's able to pick apart the status quo and moral philosophies, of course he's smart.

just to pick up on a previous point, remus is scarily perceptive. i mentioned this earlier with how remus is able to pick logan apart, but i'd like to add onto it more since i think a lot of people underestimate how crazily perceptive he is. for one, despite not being too close with a bunch of the other sides, he seems to be able to read their insecurities and play them against them really well. we see it in the way he uses virgil's insecurities of being an ex-dark side against him. we see it in the way he picks on patton and thomas' morality crisis against them. we see it in the way roman describes remus as someone being able to show him things he doesn't like about himself. and most importantly, we see it in the way remus constantly reaps the fact that logan isn't listened to to the point that logan snaps. as intrusive thoughts, remus' job is to see what deepest darkest secrets thomas and the sides suppress and use it against them.

at the moment, we don't really know if remus has any weaknesses, although wtit sort of implies that he himself is also quite irritated by the fact that thomas doesn't listen to him. he does a good way of hiding, though, how much of that problem is genuinely affecting him. it makes me think he's also smart in the way he's able to hide his vulnerabilities and true intentions from the other side. he's silly and goofy and lewd and because of that, everyone thinks he's harmless. the sides think he's unserious, and so does the fandom. but deep down, remus really isn't that stupid.

and LASTLY, when beta reading this essay, orb also mentioned to me about how remus possesses cognitive flexibility in a way roman doesn’t. this isn’t meant to discredit roman of course, but i think it’s important to mention that remus is the side with the least amount of restrictions when it comes to creative liberties. orb mentioned to me how remus is able to connect concepts easily in a way roman doesn’t because remus doesn’t operate under the same self-restrictive mindset. while this obviously would help thomas become more innovative as a creative, i think it’s also important to recognize how much thomas kind of needs it in general. much of the latter half of the series shows thomas dealing with restrictions, especially when it comes to doing good. it would be great benefit for thomas to be able to listen to a side who generally wants to Have a Good Time, and doesn’t abide by rules imposed onto them.

and yes that is my essay on remus 100/10 best character and is not dumb at all. very excited to see him in the finale and i hope y’all’s get your characterizations straight because i need me some good fics

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #my analysis #sanders sides meta

184 notes · View notes

momotonescreaming · 7 months

Text

STWG Daily Prompt: Napping [Part One] [Part Two]

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Steve says, the words falling out of his mouth, tumbling off the thickness of his tongue. Jaw slack, bottom lip hanging open, and there’s a slight furrow to his brow. Looking at him through droopy eyes, long lashes — fluttering as he blinks up at Tommy.

His gut twists, a curl of nausea wrapping around his middle. How far have they fallen, that Steve didn’t expect Tommy to actually listen to his message. To come visit when he said he was in the hospital. Did he really think Tommy was that much of an asshole? To the people at Hawkins sure, but never Steve. Never Carol. Never the people that actually mattered to him. The rest of Hawkins could get fucked.

People hung out with Steve at school — the guys from the swim team, cheerleaders, all those types — but he didn’t really seem to be friends with them. Just friendly. Surface level, school shit. Have you started that essay, have you heard Nicole’s throwing a party, what’s for lunch? Never anything real. Not like anything he had with Tommy. Carol as well, when she joined the scene.

Except Wheeler. Tommy absently wonders why she isn’t here. Why Steve didn’t ring her. She’s his girlfriend, she should be here with a card and flowers. Sit at his bedside. Except she isn’t here. Tommy is.

“Of course I did.” Tommy says, shrugging his shoulders. Sliding his hands into his pockets, trying so hard to look calm. Normal. This doesn’t have to mean anything, if Steve doesn’t want it to. He’s just his ex best friend, visiting him in hospital to be nice. It’s fine. Except it’s not fine. Tommy’s heart is thundering in his chest so hard it’s a miracle Steve can’t hear it from all the way on the other side of the room.

This feels like the start of something. Tommy hopes it is. Reconnection. Getting his best friend back.

Steve’s gaze softens, his eyes practically melting, settling into something gooey and warm. Like fucking caramel, or honey or some shit. A part of Tommy didn’t think Steve would ever look at him like that again. Not like the pained glances and glares he got in the halls of Hawkins High. On the basketball court.

There was no mask here. Steve doesn’t have the energy for it, to put the mask back on, the façade that everything’s normal. Everything’s fine and it’s better this way.

“Oh,” Steve says, mouth forming a perfect circle. He starts picking at his blanket, tugging at the seam, trying not to wobble as he sits up. Blinking, Steve looks down at his hands and then back at Tommy. It’s almost bashful. Shy. Steve never used to be shy with him. They could tell each other everything. They knew all about each others first kisses, first times. The foods they like, the ones they hate. What they want from like and the fears that simmer under the surface. Tommy knows all about Mr Harrington’s cheating, and the way it fucked Steve up. And in return Steve knows all about how Tommy’s parents pretend he doesn’t exist and the anger that builds. There was no pressure, no worry, about saying anything to the other. But maybe they’re starting from scratch. And maybe that’s okay. “Thank you.”

“Can I sit?” Tommy asks, pointing at the ugly chair with a thumb. He raises an eyebrow, and tries to will his pulse to stop racing. It’s not just about the chair. It’s about Tommy staying, being allowed in Steve’s presence again. What if he says no? What if he doesn’t actually want to see Tommy again? What if the phone call was Steve just getting it all off his chest?

“Yeah. Sure.” Steve replies, still looking and sounding a little shocked. At the fact that Tommy showed up, or the fact Steve said yes, he’s not sure. He nods, heading over to the ugly chair, and tilts it more towards the bed as he sits down. So he can look at Steve. Fucking engage with him or some shit. Tommy’s here now, and he really doesn’t want to break it. Doesn’t know if he could handle it, honestly. Losing Steve hurt. More than a breakup with Carol ever could, he thinks.

“So what are you in for, anyway?” Tommy asks. To break the ice sure, but also because he’s genuinely curious. Steve didn’t say, just that his brain felt like mud and the nurses didn’t want him wandering. And with the way he’s looking, Tommy doesn’t blame them, Jesus Christ.

“This isn’t prison,” Steve jokes, wincing as he laughs. The motion of it pulling at his wounds, his bruises. His fucking battered body. Sighing, sounding a little strained, Steve relaxes back into his pillows. Turns his head so he’s still looking at Tommy.

“You sure?” He jokes, mouth curling up at the corner. Half a smile, half a sneer, but he tries to make it look genuine. Nicer. Tommy’s fucking trying, alright?

Steve wheezes as he laughs, more an exhale of air than anything. Calming, soothing his lungs, his aching body, Steve takes a slow, deep breath. Blinks as he looks at Tommy. Eyes flicking over his face, roaming over his features.

“Concussion. Bad one. Really bad one.” He says eventually. After a pause. Carefully choosing his words. “Lots of cuts and shit.”

“Fuck, dude,” Tommy starts, almost recoiling. Almost says are you alright on instinct. He catches himself, the words dying on his tongue. Like fucking no, obviously. He looks like he got hit by a truck. Probably feels like it too. It hurts to look at. Way worse than when Steve fought Jon in that alley. Steve was winning that fight too. Tommy fucking stands by that. Jon only had him at the end because the cops showed up and Steve stopped fighting back. And you know who got slapped in cuffs because of it? Fucking Jonathan. Tommy takes a deep breath, takes his hands out of his pockets and tries to look calm. He’s fine. Steve’s hurt and someone hurt him and Tommy’s fine. Flexes out the muscles in his palms, his fingers, and grips the arms of the chair.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, a soft, sleepy smile on his face. “Can’t really be alone right now. But it’s not so bad. I’ve mostly been napping and getting woken up by nurses every hour.”

You’ve got me now, Tommy wants to say. But that doesn’t come out of his mouth. He takes a shuddering breath, gestures to the door he just came through with a trembling hand. “I can go, if you need to nap?”

“No.” Steve says quickly, automatically, hand reaching out towards Tommy. Bites his lip, gaze dipping down to his hand, over to Tommy, head bobbing heavily with the weight of it. He looks shy again. There’s a worry in his eyes, wrinkling at the corners. “Don’t go. Please?”

And oh fuck that hurts. He looks a lot like the scared kid who used to come over to Tommy’s house because his parents left for the weekend and he didn’t want to be alone. Wanting the company but also being ashamed to ask for it. His father’s influence, Tommy knows.

“Okay,” he says, trying not to sound so relieved himself. “I’ll stay.”

[Part Four] [Part Five]

#stranger things #steve harrington #tommy hagan #stommy #stwgdailyprompt #My Writing #lmao writing this fic one prompt at a time

117 notes · View notes

calxia · 1 year

Note

I hope your illness isn't hitting you too hard!

I've been reading your angst over and over and damn it's the good stuff

What I've been thinking about is for Aether to learn of the shit that's been going down with Phantom and the pack (if Aether's still around, and not.. yk)..

In my own headcannons, I see Quintessence ghouls as a social species, so I feel as though this would be a harder hit to Aether and cause for the whole 'excuse me what the fuck' to go down amongst the pack

Again, I hope you're feeling better soon, being sick really sucks

Thank you for your concern! It's just my luck that I'd be sick for my birthday but thankfully I'm starting to feel better now (right when my paid leave from work is about to finish ofc)

In my head, the reason they needed to replace Aether is because of something like a disease outbreak at another branch of the church that required some skilled quintessence ghouls to be sent over. So, Aether and Omega are absent because they have been sent to help at another church. This is also partly why Phantom spends his first few weeks so alone, because traditionally newly summoned ghouls are cared for by their respective element groups. Especially for at least their first-week surface side, they'd spend all their time in a nest with others of their element as they acclimate to the change.

Before Aether departed, he made sure to ask the pack to care for the new ghoul that was due to be summoned while he and Omega were unable to. The whole time he is busy trying to fend off the disease outbreak with Omega, he is so sure that the new Quint ghoul will be properly cared for by their pack. All the clips of the new bug flourishing on stage also helped cement their idea that Phantom was being properly integrated and finding his place in the pack.

So, imagine his surprise when they are finally able to return to the ministry and their packs and the new ghoul is nowhere to be seen as all the other band ghouls greet him fondly. Nobody can answer him when he asks why his fellow quintessence ghoul hadn't joined them to greet him, which just makes his concern grow even more. Before he can search for him, he's whisked away to finish up some paperwork and it slips from his mind.

When he later joins the others for dinner, there's still no sign of Phantom. Aether's concern is at peak levels by this point so he straight away sets out to find him. He finds Phantom in his designated room.

The room is empty and lacks any smells of other pack members. Phantom has no nest or even any bedding on his bed and is instead curled up on the wooden floors under the bed frame.

Aether is furious. He put so much trust in his pack to welcome this young ghoul and instead, they'd just abandoned him and pushed him out of the group. He storms back to where the rest of the ghouls are seated to eat and flies off in a blind rage at them. By the end of his anger-fuelled rage, most of the ghouls are crying and those who are not are shellshocked still. He's got no time to worry about them though, because he's got a kit that's been on earth for months but is barely acclimated to tend to.

For a good few weeks afterwards, Aether remains glued to Phantom's side and all the pack gets when they try to talk to him is anger-filled looks that send them scurrying away.

#im 100% making this a full on fic sometime #its such a good idea #thank you so much!#phantom ghoul #aether ghoul #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost headcanons #ghoul headcanons #calxwrites

148 notes · View notes

crying-fantasies · 2 months

Text

Radiation exposure

Masterlist

Humanity has been exposed to radiation way before our own existence or evolution, we receive radiation waves from Earth's core, from outer space and many other sources, of course, humans can only tolerate so much of either of those, living in the surface away from the core and under the atmosphere, away from real and unfiltered space radiation.

Still, it's healthy, deep space travelers must return to Earth or a atmosphere similar planet every 10 or so years even with the most advanced gadgets, deep under sea travelers too, there is just so much that technology can do for a living human in order to stay healthy and not have health realted problems.

Cybertronians are technological living mechanisms and so, they are a curious mixture of electric related radiation and outer space radiation, of course cybertronians have compensated the exposure to hard environments more than once in their lengthy existence as a race, their protection being one of the best in all galaxy.

Humans, sometimes, have negative reactions to cybertronians' radiation, mostly due to large times of exposure, presenting health problems related to low level exposure of radiation.

These kind of cases are related, curiously, to relationship between them, as it has been deeply noticed humans that live fairly well and harmoniously with cybertronians tend to have very little to none problems, while the ones that show aggressive behavior towards them present almost all the symptoms, while this is still a heavy and complicated topic among the scientific community some psychologists bring up the idea that it must be caused by their own almost physical psique, being the cybertronian EMF working as some kind of shield for humans.

"I don't think so", USFA master sergeant, Robert Epps, gave his own insight, "I work with all these guys regularly and never had even a flu", he then looked behind him, "Hey! Topspin! Twin Twist!", both jumpstarters looked back at him and then to the camera, "do you guys have your EMF on me?"

Both bots looked at each other before the oldest said "umm... no?", then doing a face, "not right now?"

Is yet to be adequately described, but scientifically there's certainly something to it.

Most cybertronians don't just lay out say it, since for them is normal to flare or regress their EMF at will, their youngest being a little more expressive with it, but it appears to be quite normal to use it, in their own words, to keep a track on tiny humans, "if we don't do it we can't know where they are" Twin Twist explained a little, "we aren't looking at the floor all the time, so it's good to have it a little more active to not have an accident".

Topspin adds, "but if it has good things going for them, that's good, right?"

In the worst case scenario, there is the necessity to consume KI tablets, which are largely distributed in anti-cibertronian or overall hostile areas.

When asked the inhabitants of this places, they just answered with basic answers as them, humanity, to be the only real residents of Earth and for the aliens to go back where they came from, even referring to the other humans in contact with the aliens as "traitors of the species".

More research is going to be done, but so far, the different effects of exposure seem to be guided unconsciously by protective or anger like feelings.

#reader insert #x reader #transformers #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers idw #transformers x human reader #terraformer au!#tf Twin Twist #tf topspin #tf Epps

26 notes · View notes

strawberrygiorno · 1 year

Text

I've seen people talk about Kim's daily cigarette and the connection to the lungs and how if he's left in Martinaise he smokes a second cigarette and how that links to his feelings for Harry.

What I haven't seen is people talking about the cigarette also involving fire. Fire, which the game repeatedly uses to represent hope, change, and revolution.

Let's take a look at the lines after his one-a-day habit is introduced:

[Text ID: KIM KITSURAGI - "You mean this?" The light of his cigarette illuminates a fleeting smile. "This isn't cool - it's an unnecessary trial of will. And unhealthy." He flicks the ash.

VOLITION - Keeping the habit within the parameters he's given himself takes a lot of focus. It would be easier to simply quit.

COMPOSURE - Yet were he to quit, he would lose the cool factor. This man relishes his cool quite a bit -- below it all. End ID]

This is clearly an allegory for the way he tries to keep his emotions under tight control, and this includes his desire for something better for Revachol. Volition states that it would be easier to quit than to do what Kim does. Giving up hope, resigning himself to the world he's in, would mean less disappointment, more distance, less pain, but it would mean removing a significant part of himself. That spark is too important to him to extinguish fully. Being in the RCM, though, means he needs to keep that spark as dim as possible. Otherwise, he might draw attention himself or actually process his role in suppressing the change he can't help but want.

This is interesting when coupled with some statements he makes later if you ask him his position on the Moralintern and Dolorianism.

[Text ID: KIM KITSURAGI - "The Moralintern are a fact. I try not to have opinions on facts -- until they change. And," he looks at the city below, "It doesn't look like that's about to happen." End ID]

[Text ID: YOU - "Kim, are you a follower of Dolorianism?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes. We all are. Her name, body, and rule are synonymous with humanism. The laws we enforce are Dolorian in origin."

YOU - "I didn't think you were spiritual."

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's not spiritual. It's constitutional. The Dolorian system does not demand faith -- only accordance." End ID]

These answers are both so... empty. There's no belief in either of these systems, just that resignation to the fact of their existence. He is, on some level, aware of what he is supporting. That tiny revolutionary desire of his keeps him from identifying with it, though his refusal to stoke that flame simultaneously keeps him from rejecting it to pursue something he *can* believe in.

So, Kim takes refuge in something he knows is true: facts. He knows how the world works, and he knows that there aren't mysterious things like giant bug cryptids or 2-millimeter holes in the world involved in Martinaise.

Except, there are those things, as well as other things that challenge what Kim holds to be facts, and he is forced to accept that the world is much stranger and much more beautiful than he dared to believe.

Over the course of one week, facts change.

The first cigarette we see Kim smoke that final day comes out almost immediately after Harry wakes up after the tribunal, which is completely understandable. After experiencing the tribunal and seeing Harry in so much pain and abandoned by his precinct, of course Kim is experiencing affection for Harry and anger at the system that created this situation.

Later, looking at the message painted on the ground in oil, Harry sets it on fire. What does he use to do this?

[Text ID: YOU - "Step back, lieutenant." (Set the graffito on fire with a lit cigarette.)

ONE DAY I WILL RETURN TO YOUR SIDE - The fuel oil catches fire immediately with an ominous hiss -- a bright orange flash across the surface of the letters. Black smoke rises from the burning message. End ID]

A cigarette. One spark to set off the massive fire. A fire that warms both of them.

That brings us to Kim's second cigarette he smokes when left in Martinaise. It's a representation of how irrevocably changed Kim is by his experience on this case. Even if he and Harry don't go on to continue working together, this one week has stirred something in Kim that causes that hopeful, revolutionary fire in his lungs to burn a little brighter, and for once he decides to fan the flame.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #it speaks #i hope this is coherent #i have a bunch of other thoughts but it was too hard to get them all into one post #so focusing on the cigarettes for now haha

202 notes · View notes

thebabblingbrookenook · 1 year

Text

Not Like This

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: You’ve kept your feelings for Anthony in check for a long time. That all changes when he crosses that line himself. Can you move forward together, or will this drive you apart?

Warnings: Foreplay, Heavy Petting, Fondling, Plenty of other good stuff

Word Count: 6.4K

Author’s Note - @colettebronte what would I do without you to read over all my tippy-tappies. Thank you so much.

____________________________________________

Lies!

It was always a lie with him. How were you ever supposed to get over your trust issues when the person you thought you would never have to second guess constantly led you astray? His word was supposed to be as good as gold. If you couldn’t rely on the local weatherman, then how could you possibly be expected to rely on anyone else?

Staring out your living room window, you scowled at the rain pouring from the sunless sky. This day was far from the promised clear skies with a light breeze. It was the exact opposite, and it laughed in the face of all of your scheduled plans. Plans that you had been looking forward to for days. Plans that weren’t easily rescheduled due to the company they required.

Anthony was almost impossible to pin down these days. When you met at uni, you were both unencumbered, free to do exactly as you pleased. There weren’t any responsibilities lurking over you like a wet blanket. If he called you at 1 AM on a weeknight you could talk to him about nothing for two hours until he would finally fall asleep. If you invited him out at the last minute to grab a bite to eat, he’d drop whatever he was doing and meet you at the hole-in-the-wall pub you loved to frequent. But you weren’t at uni anymore. You were both proper adults now. Well, at least he was. You were giving it your best effort, but still found yourself flailing most of the time.

You missed him. You missed the way things used to be. The easy laughter and the companionship. The sense of being understood and feeling less alone. You missed arguing with him over stupid things that didn’t matter. You missed spending Sundays with his chaotic family, and watching him transform into a completely different person in the presence of his mother. And even though you shouldn’t, you really, really shouldn’t, you missed the ache in your chest when he smiled at you. The heat that blushed your skin whenever he touched you. Even though you knew those touches were never meant as more than friendship.

Those were dangerous feelings. Feelings that you had murdered a long time ago. You had to, there was no other choice. You were friends and nothing more. If you let yourself imagine any other reality for too long, it would have ruined it all. Anthony was the kind of man that it would be easy to love, and that was a trap that you weren’t willing to walk into.

But that didn’t stop you from missing him. It didn’t stop you from the ugly jealousy you felt when you took a back seat every time he got a new girlfriend. It didn’t stifle your rage when one of those aforementioned women mishandled the fragile, loving heart that he liked to keep hidden below the surface. His current infatuation was the worst offender of them all. Siena…

The on-again off-again nature of their relationship was exhausting to watch. He wasn’t perfect, he made his share of contributions to their toxic dynamic, but never in your life had you seen him allow himself to be treated this way. She held him under some sort of spell that you would never understand. The man that you knew, normally confident to an obnoxious level, was reduced to crippling insecurity when they were in one of their down-swings. Unfortunately for everyone else, that insecurity usually presented itself as frustration and anger, making him unbearable to be around at times.

That’s normally when you lost him to his other mistress - work. You would never begrudge him the success that he had built for himself. You were proud of him for everything that he had achieved. Running a thriving company at the age of thirty-two was no small feat. It was just disappointing when he buried himself there, once again leaving you at the mercy of his robust schedule. You were forced to live on whatever meager scraps he had left to give.

Which brings you back to now. Your throat burned with the effort to hold back your tears when you read his easily predicted request to reschedule.

A: It’s really coming down out there. Can we maybe do this when there isn’t a real threat of drowning?

You rolled your eyes. He could be so fussy sometimes. You would have been willing to be soaked to the bone if it meant spending some time with him. Not ready to give up just yet, you sent an alternate solution.

Y: Coward… Maybe we could go visit your mum instead. I haven’t seen her for ages. We could bring dinner.

His answering response took longer than it should have. Your stomach twisted in knots while those three little dots taunted you. You were expecting paragraphs, but what you got instead…

A: Don’t be mad…

Your heart sank. This didn’t bode well.

Y: Too late. That definitely shouldn’t have been your opening statement if you had any hope of avoiding my wrath. Now I’m primed for conflict. Explain…

You tried to deflect with humor to hide the true extent of your disappointment.

A: Good to know. I’ll adjust my tactics for the next time I fuck up…

A: Violet Bridgerton would be overjoyed to see you. You should go… I just can’t come with you.

Y: Uh oh. Why not? Did you piss her off again? I told you to dial it back with the mansplaining, Ant.

A: I DO NOT MANSPLAIN!

A: I just know a lot about a lot. I offer my wisdom where I can with simple and efficient instruction. It’s called being helpful.

Y: Did you just mansplain mansplaining to me? You’re unbelievable…No wonder your mum doesn’t want to hang out with you.

A: Good God, you’re bratty. My mother adores me.

Y: Then why can’t we go visit her tonight?

A: Well… when it started pissing down rain I assumed we wouldn’t be able to go hiking. I knew you wouldn’t mind postponing for more sensible weather, so I made plans for my evening. You deserve the day you had your heart set on, not consolation plans. We’ll map out a whole day… Just for us. I promise…

The day you had your heart set on… You didn’t need hiking for that, just him. It took everything in you not to respond with bitterness.

Y: You promise?

A: I swear it. Still friends?

Y: TBD

~~~~~~~~~~

The rain stopped two hours later… It was clear now, that nature, and maybe even the weatherman, was openly mocking you. All you could do was laugh at the absurdity. If you didn’t laugh, you might cry, and nobody wanted that. You needed to find something to do. Something that would take your mind off the lingering disappointment that was trying to coax you back into bed for the rest of the day.

You decided to visit Violet. You didn’t need Anthony for that. The two of you had grown close over the years, developed a relationship of your own. The fact that you had been waiting for an invitation from her son to pop by for a visit suddenly seemed ludicrous.

Like he usually was, Anthony had been right about his mother’s joy in seeing you. When she opened her door to find you standing awkwardly on her steps, she hugged you so tightly it practically squeezed the life from you. When you offered to take her out for a late lunch, she declared that idea nonsense and insisted that you come in and catch up. Her chef had prepared a generous midday spread in anticipation of Colin stopping by. Apparently Violet had volunteered to watch the little ones while Colin surprised his wife, Penelope, with a weekend trip for her birthday.

“I’m so glad you decided to come and see me today,” Violet said, handing you a perfectly made fresh cup of tea. It was no surprise that she didn’t even need to ask how you took it. “I was just thinking about you this morning. Anthony had mentioned that you planned to spend the day together…”

You didn’t miss her subtle attempt at finding out why you weren’t currently with her son. You always had a sense that Violet was quietly rooting for the two of you to end up together. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you were nothing more than friends.

“We rescheduled,” you smiled tightly, taking a sip from your tea.

Almost imperceptibly, her eyes narrowed, and then softened as she observed you. It was impossible to hide from her. “We… or he,” she asked knowingly.

“We both agreed hiking might be better on a day when it wasn’t pouring.” Her unspoken interrogation tactics sent you into an anxious babble. “I asked if he wanted to do something else, but he already had plans. It’s fine. I know he’s busy. He promised to set aside a day just for us.”

“Being busy doesn’t justify being inconsiderate, dear. His father and I taught him better than that,” she huffed in frustration. “I love my son, but you’re too easy on him.”

You felt yourself sink in your chair. “I don’t think I’m too easy on him. I just know how much he has on his plate. I’m trying to be con- …” You paused on the last word, realizing the trap she had expertly set for you.

“Considerate?” Violet smirked, finishing your sentence.

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “I brush it off just as much for my benefit as for his. It takes a lot of energy to be mad at him, and he’s a lot better at arguing than me. Besides, I know it is never his intention to hurt my feelings.”

Violet sighed, clearly weighing how to proceed. “Regardless of his intentions, however benign they might be, he still needs to know when something he’s done has hurt you. Aside from Benedict, you’re his best friend. If anyone has the privilege of being direct with him, it’s you. Anthony is brilliant in a lot of ways, but emotional intelligence is not his strong suit. He’ll gladly take the path of least resistance if you let him. As long as it is easier to disappoint you than someone else…” She held your gaze, making sure you were listening to her words. “Well, you’ll never be prioritized in the way you deserve if there isn’t a consequence for him to consider. I know he values you, but darling, occasionally you’ve got to make him work for it.”

His words from earlier in the day echoed in your mind. I knew you wouldn’t mind… so I made other plans. God, that was pathetic. She was right, he knew exactly how much he could get away with, and it was nobody’s fault but your own. Could he take his head out of his ass every once in a while and see below the surface - yes. Was it fair to expect him to read your mind - probably not.

“Make him work for it, huh?” You asked, a trace of a smile playing on your lips.

“Oh, absolutely. When have you ever known Anthony to shy away from a good challenge?” She patted your hand affectionately. “I think the person you need to worry about having a little more consideration for is yourself, y/n.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Your afternoon with Violet had given you a lot to think about. If you wanted things to change, you needed to do your part. It was going to take a lot of trial and error, and it was probably going to be messy and uncomfortable for a while, but he was worth it. Your relationship with him was worth it. You were worth it.

You wouldn’t lie, it scared you. But the idea of resenting him scared you even more. For years now, he has been the one solid presence in your life. He was fiercely protective, loving you in the ways that he knew how, showing you parts of himself that you suspected others were not privy to. That wasn’t something that you took lightly, and it wasn’t something you were willing to gamble with. If a potential fight with him now meant the possibility of having him close years from now… you’d risk it all.

It was well past dark now, the rain had resumed its onslaught, and you were huddled safely beneath the warmth of your favorite cashmere throw on the sofa. Book in hand, your eyes scanned the words on the page, begging them to take you somewhere else. In the end, your efforts were fruitless. After the third pass over the same sentence, you admitted defeat. Your mind refused to be dragged away from him. You were going to need assistance. Wine, you needed wine.

Reluctantly, you uncurled from your blanket and trudged off in the direction of the kitchen. You had just turned the corner down the hall when the buzzer at your front door sounded, freezing you in place. With the intensity that you were currently staring at said door, you would have thought you could see right through it.

A quick glance at your phone told you it was far too late for any rational person to come round.

Inching slowly towards the door, you jumped when the loud, incessant buzzer sounded again. Your heart thrummed in your chest. Anyone showing up at nearly midnight couldn’t be anything other than trouble.

You pressed your ear against the sturdy wood door, listening for any signs of distress or malintent. Silence, aside from the heavy beating of the rain.

“Who’s there?” you braved.

“Open up and find out,” replied a muffled voice, distorted by the thick wooden door separating you. You were kicking yourself for not heeding Anthony’s suggestion to install a peep hole. He could never know about this…

Leaving the chain latched, you cautiously cracked the door open just wide enough to peek out.

Standing there, sopping wet and shivering with the cold, was Anthony Bridgerton. His brilliant smile was only made more adorable by the chattering of his teeth. He held up a bag of Chinese take-away from your favorite local spot. No doubt an attempt to wiggle back into your good graces. Or maybe he just knew that the promise of food would at the very least grant him access over the threshold.

“Dumplings for my Dumplin’...” he beamed. When you made no move to unlatch the lock, his lip jutted out in a pout that he borrowed from his brother. “Oh, come on Sass. Let me in. You don’t want me to catch a chill, do you?”

Standing your ground, you schooled your features, hiding the slight lifting at the corners of your mouth. He only used that nickname when he was prepared to resort to Level 5 groveling. Sass, short for Sassy, previously known as Sassy Pants.

“You must really think I’m easy, huh? You thought I would just open wide at the sight of you holding wontons?” You heard the unintended innuendo the moment the words left your mouth. “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

The smirk he now wore was trouble personified. “You know you want it, Sass. I even got the special sauce you like. And if that’s not enough,” he paused, pulling something from behind his back. “I also brought wine.”

Now he was speaking your language. Without saying a word, you closed the door in his face and took your time unlatching the metal chain from its sheath. The look on his face was priceless when you reappeared a moment later. “For a second there I thought you might actually leave me out here.”

“Me too,” you admitted, only half joking. “But that’s a good bottle of wine.”

He followed you down the hall towards the living room to deposit your bribe on the coffee table. When you went to make your way to the kitchen he reached out to gently clutch your wrist, effectively halting your steps. “Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “You sit down and get comfy. I’ll grab us some plates.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, nuzzling back into your previously vacated spot on the sofa. “The wine glasses are…”

“I know where they are,” he grinned, draping your blanket over your lap. “Give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

He returned a moment later with his arms full, balancing the items with precision and grace. You always loved watching the way he moved. Every step was laced with purpose and intention. Every turn of his head, or flex of his fingers radiated capability. His shoulders were built to carry responsibility. His posture was centered and balanced. Poised to lead. It was comforting - the way he was just so… Anthony.

He took his place next to you on the sofa, pouring you a healthy glass of wine. “What are you doing here, Anthony?”

“Do I need a reason other than I wanted to see you…” he asked without meeting your eyes, piling food onto plates for the both of you.

Your mouth watered from the wafting scent of steamed dumplings being pushed into your lap as a hopeful distraction. He was clever to ply you with food and drink, but it wasn’t enough to nullify the suspicion building in your brain. “If it were six o’clock, then no, you wouldn’t need any other reason. But at midnight… I have a hard time believing you just couldn’t live without seeing me until morning. So how about we try this again. What are you doing here, Ant?”

He finally looked up from his food to face your questioning. “I had a shit day and I was feeling restless. I just needed to be somewhere…” he paused, an unsettling despondency creeping into the depths of his dark eyes. “... with someone that felt like home. I know I could have gone to Ben’s, but you were the one I really wanted. I miss you. We used to do this kind of thing all the time…”

A snarky response about canceled plans danced on the tip of your tongue but your irritation was quickly losing steam. Something about the slump of his shoulders and the set of his jaw made your eyes burn with unshed tears. Releasing the last remnants of bitterness, you plopped a dumpling into your mouth and lovingly chastised him. “You could have at least called instead of showing up like a crazy person in the middle of the night.”

“Why,” he grinned. “Did I scare you?”

“No.” you protested immediately.

Glossing over your false declaration, he teased, “You could have avoided the fear if you would have just let me install the security system I recommended.”

A change of subject was in order. “So, you had a rough day, huh?”

He shot you an incredulous look that told you he was well aware of your redirect but he relented nonetheless. If the size of his answering sigh was any correlation, it was a rough day indeed. “How much time do you have?”

“Apparently, all night,” you smirked before popping another dumpling in your mouth.

“Do you remember the Whitehall account I was telling you about?”

You sat back and let him get everything out. Most of the time very little participation was required of you in these types of conversations. He looked for your occasional affirmation or nod of agreement, but for the most part, he always worked it all out on his own. He just needed to process out loud to another person.

Over the next hour, the two of you polished off your midnight dinner and opened a second bottle of wine. It was a relief to just be in his presence. There was nothing to get between you. No distracting work calls or annoying girlfriends to pull at his attention. The sound of his laugh eased the ache in your chest. This was the day you had your heart set on. You didn’t need an activity or a fancy outing - just him.

When his eyes closed, head drooping to rest on the back of the sofa, you gathered your dinner plates and walked them into the kitchen. You’d wake him once you’d finished tidying and prepped the guest room for him to crash in for the night.

You were elbow deep in soapy water when you felt him come up behind you, reaching his arms around you to place your empty wine glasses in the sink. Instead of immediately moving away, he lingered, the heat from his body caressing down your spine. Pressing his chest to your back, his arms locked around your middle, squeezing you in a tight hug. You let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder.

“Thanks for tonight,” his voice was soft and low in your ear.

Not ready for the embrace to end, you brought one soapy hand to clutch his forearm that held tight to your waist. “I’m glad you came. Even if it was at an unreasonable hour.”

The breath from his laugh tickled your neck as he bent to bury his face in your shoulder. You weren’t complaining, but this was an unusually long hug. His nose nuzzled against you, and you melted into him.

“You smell nice,” he purred. His hands unlocked from around you and his fingers brushed along your waist, settling on your hips with a firm grip. “You feel nice too.”

Your body froze against his. What was happening? He’d never spoken to you like this before, let alone felt you up. His roaming hands were making it hard for you to think. The close proximity was covering you in a lusty fog, throwing your reasoning skills out the window. Your entire body was humming with excitement, begging that small part of your brain that still had questions to shut the hell up. This was Anthony… your best friend. Dangerous, this was dangerous. But on the other hand, this was Anthony… Gorgeous, sexy, tempting Anthony. The same Anthony that snuck into your dreams at night to unravel you - mind, body, and soul. This would literally be a fantasy.

“Anthony,” your voice was breathy and dazed. “What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time,” his lips pressed into the skin at your jaw. “This feels so good. Do you want to feel good with me?”

His words dripped down your body like warm honey, collecting at the apex of your thighs. A surge of desire spread through you like a wildfire, sending your heartbeat into a crazed frenzy. Answering his question, you captured one of his hands, sliding it up your body to cup your breast. The warmth of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of the tank-top your wore sans bra. You were dressed for bed when he showed up on your doorstep, wearing little more than a camisole, drawstring pj shorts, and fuzzy socks.

There was a sudden intake of breath at your brazen form of consent. He held you securely, lightly squeezing to get a feel for the weight of you. Your nipples hardened at his touch, clearly visible beneath the pale pink cotton separating your skin from his.

Moving forward, he pressed into your body, pinning your hips between him and the cold marble countertop. You could feel him, firm and commanding, growing harder in his snug jeans. His mouth tasted every inch of your skin from your earlobe to shoulder as he drug the thin strap down your arm. His lips left a trail of electricity in their wake, each spot they touched creating a new pulse point beneath the surface.

Turning your face to him with a gentle pull, those devilish, hungry lips finally devoured yours. Of all the times you thought about kissing him, not one compared to the real thing. Your senses were bum-rushed, temporarily rendering you deaf, mute, and blind. But the taste of him… God! It enveloped you, forever altering your palate. Sweets would never be as sweet, and salt would lose its bite. Flavors you once craved would now always seem bland in comparison.

His tongue was strong and insistent, exploring your mouth with fervor, coaxing yours to play with him. The intensity of what was happening was starting to make you lightheaded. Only when he broke the kiss were you able to acknowledge the existence of anything outside of where your bodies touched.

Your lust-filled eyes watched as your top was pulled down, exposing your breasts to his onslaught. The look he gave you was deadly as he cupped you tightly and bent his head to suck your puckered nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue swirling around had you shivering in his arms. You could feel your legs go slack, his body now keeping you from slumping to the floor.

His free hand ventured to the knot in the drawstring of your shorts, expertly untangling the silk bow. He had always been good at multitasking and this was no exception.

Very slowly, his fingers pushed past the elastic band resting against your tummy, and went in search of the welcoming slit between your legs. His fingernails scraped across your skin as they traveled through your pubic hair, finally gliding inside to find you dripping with desire. The unhurried, languorous strokes liquified your bones. You were about to cross the point of no return. Soon, you would lose all sense of reason. You had to decide now. Were you really going to fuck your bestfriend? Your body screamed a resounding “Hell yes,” but your heart was waving frantically for your attention.

You needed to know what this meant before anything else happened. You needed to know if this was real. You knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t be able to walk away from something this monumental unchanged. After all this time, why now?

“Anthony, wait…” His hand stilled but he didn’t remove it. “I need to ask you something.”

“Mmm, what’s that,” he hummed, still nibbling along the cord of your neck.

You almost stopped yourself from asking because you were afraid of the answer, but you needed to know. “Who were you with tonight before you came here?”

Every inch of him went rigid. He pulled his hand from your shorts and splayed it across your abdomen in a steadying gesture. “Y/n…” he whispered, almost begging you not to make him say it. He knew you wouldn’t like the answer.

“Were you with her?” You had to gather the courage to say her name. “Siena?”

His silence was deafening. His voice startled you when he finally spoke. “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. You’re the one I want to be with right now.”

Right now… That was where your fear lived. Was this just a pleasant distraction for him? Something to get lost in for a few hours before running back to her. Your heart was already breaking.

Gently, you stepped out of his reach and adjusted your clothes so that you were fully covered. Without a drop of anger, you said, “We can’t, Anthony. I can’t…”

The look of pure devastation that darkened his face almost sent you straight back into his arms. “Did I misread? That kiss… that was… it felt like you wanted this too. Is it me? Have I done something wrong?”

You were reaching out for him before you even registered that your feet were moving. “Anthony, no. Of course not. I do want this, and that’s the problem. If I’m being honest with myself, I think I’ve wanted this for a long time. I want it. I want you. Just not like this…”

“I don’t understand,” his brow was creased with worry.

Violet’s words from earlier that day were echoing in your mind. She was right. Sometimes you have to put yourself first. You had already decided that your relationship with Anthony was worth the risk of upsetting the balance a little. This was a prime example of that. Twenty-four hours ago, you wouldn’t have stopped him. You would have convinced yourself that this was what he needed, and you would deal with your own repercussions later. But now…

“I’m afraid,” you confessed.

Panic flashed over his face. “Of me?”

“If we sleep together, I’m going to love you.” You met his troubled gaze. “And I can’t afford to love you if this isn’t real.”

“You don’t believe this is real for me?” Hurt… he was hurt.

“I think part of it is real,” you blinked back your tears. “But can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that some part of this wasn’t because she hurt you tonight?”

“It’s over between us. We’re finished. There is nothing left worth turning back to. And when I finally realized that, I saw things with more clarity. You…us… it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

You could feel the adrenaline coursing through you. He was saying things that you always wanted to hear, but was it enough? “Will you still feel this way a month from now? Because I will…”

He stepped closer, taking both of your hands in his. “Yes, I think I will.”

“I need you to know, Ant. I need you to be certain. You’re too important to me to risk crossing that line for a maybe. And I don’t want our beginning to be built on someone else’s ruins.”

A single, silent tear dripped down your cheek. This was a lot harder than you thought it was going to be.

He pulled you in, crushing you against his chest. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry. You mean everything to me. Please don’t hate me for this.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you allowed yourself a moment of indulgence. His warmth and familiarity were soothing, and the faint scent of amber that lingered on his clothes from his cologne brought you to a place of safety. You committed it all to memory, storing the moment in your heart, just in case this was the last time…

Reluctantly, you removed yourself. You needed distance for what came next. “Anthony, I don’t hate you. I’m not sure I could ever hate you. But…”

The words were stuck in your throat as you bargained with yourself not to cry.

“Say it,” he begged. “Please, just say it. I can’t take the silence.”

“Sometimes I feel like an afterthought, and that, I do hate. It hurts, Anthony. I think of you constantly. About what you need, about how you feel. I know you care for me. I know that… but sometimes this friendship is unbalanced. That’s partially my fault. I never told you what I needed. I never asked for more. So, this is me asking.”

“I - I didn’t realize… What can I do? Tell me how to fix this,” he implored.

“Consider me,” you poured out. “Prioritize me on occasion. See beyond yourself to the person standing in front of you. Did you even think about what something this huge would mean for me in our relationship? Did you think about tomorrow? Did you weigh my risks when you weighed yours? You and me… it’s one of the only good things I have, so I have to protect it. I know it’s different for you, and that’s okay. I just… I just need you to think of me, because it’s hard for me to think of myself.”

Determination transformed his posture. “I can do that. I promise to take my head out of my ass if you promise to keep being honest with me. You’re a better liar than you think, Sass.” His thumb swiped across your cheek, wiping away a tear. “Maybe this makes me an idiot, but I was completely in the dark that you were feeling any of this. You’re always so strong and unbothered. So easy… but I should have known better. I could have looked harder. Just know, it was never because I didn’t care. I trust you implicitly, so when you tell me you’re fine, I take you at your word. I never want you to think that I find it easy to set you aside. I took you for granted, and that hurt you. I’m sorry - truly. It was never my intention.”

You smiled up at him, exhaustion suddenly soaking through to settle in your bones. “I know, Anthony. I know.”

His remorseful expression was laced with pain and sadness. “Do you want to know what hurts me in all of this?”

The thought of being the one to cause him pain was like a punch to the gut, but the two of you had decided on honesty, and it was only fair that he should be able to speak freely. You gave him a silent nod and braced yourself. “It hurts to know how much of yourself you hid from me. It hurts to know that there is at least a small part of you that doesn’t trust me enough to let me see those pieces. Like you’re just waiting for me to let you down and prove yourself right. If you want me to see you, really see you, you have to give me a fighting chance. You have to let me look.”

True terror took hold of you at his words. “And if you don’t like what you see?”

“Then we face our demons together. You show me yours and I’ll show you mine. We trust each other. We make each other better. I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”

“No,” you assured him. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

“That’s a relief,” he laughed, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“So, what now…” you asked nervously. This was new ground and your legs were still shaky.

“Now - now I go home. It’s late. We’re both exhausted. This was a lot, but I don’t regret it. None of it. Do you?”

“No,” you whispered. “I’m still a little shaken, and definitely… stimulated, but no. No regrets.”

“Stimulated, huh?” He smirked, quickening your heart rate with a single look. “Are you sure you don’t wan-”

“Anthony…” you cut him off.

“I know, I know. Not like this. I can respect that… even though it’s killing me not to touch you right now.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be a long night,” you agreed.

You walked him to the front door so that you could lock up behind him. He watched you with amusement while you unlatched the chain and twisted the bolts keeping the dangers of the outside world at bay. “You really should let me install that security system.”

“Goodnight, Anthony,” you offered him a resigned sigh.

He turned to you from the small porch outside your door. He was lingering, but you didn’t mind. You could feel the words building in him, gathering courage and composure. “Can I see you tomorrow,” he asked, the fear of rejection hovering over him.

“I’d like that.” It would be so easy to invite him back inside and let goodnight turn into good morning, but you only possessed so much self control. “Call me… AFTER 10AM, please. Someone rudely kept me up half the night.”

“What an inconsiderate prick,” he scowled playfully.

Your laughter was cut short when he took a very intentional step into your space. Slowly, as not to spook you, he lifted a hand to the side of your face, sliding his fingers into your hair to hold you by the neck. His eyes bore into yours, perfectly conveying the need that was now burning in his chest. Your tongue reflexively ran over your lips, wetting them in preparation. You didn’t step away. You didn’t break his stare. One more kiss wouldn’t make a difference, right?

He was gentle this time, tentative even. But when that familiar taste washed over your tongue, you opened your mouth for him, welcoming the invasion. You fought the urge to wrap yourself around him and drag him to the ground right then and there.

When he finally pulled away, you were both panting and out of breath. “Sass…” the low vibration of his voice snaked its way down your body, curling deliciously deep in your stomach. “Tomorrow… A month from now… It doesn’t matter. How I feel isn’t going to change. I know you need more than words. Promise me that you’ll let me prove it to you.”

“I’ll try.” It was all you had to give right now.

“Me too.” And then he was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sleep was a stranger to you for most of the night. Competing images clamored through your brain for hours after he left. The feel and the taste of him. The pain and confusion behind his eyes. Your own fear threatened to rise up and wash you out to sea.

The relentless tossing and turning only served to deepen your exhaustion. Eventually, you accepted your fate and dragged yourself from bed and went in search of coffee.

The rain still refused to ease, casting a dreary grey over everything. The idea of sitting alone, pathetically waiting by the phone for Anthony was unbearable. This new state of limbo that you found yourself in was the most unsettled you had ever been. You were standing on a terrifying precipice. No matter what happened, your life was going to drastically change. Too much was said for things to stay the same. You would either move forward, together, or, you would go separate ways.

Not knowing was a special kind of torture. Even the worst case scenario outcome would come as a relief. At least then the waiting would be over.

You had to chastise yourself for the better part of the morning. Old habits really did die hard. You tried, because you promised him that you would. You tried to stop anticipating the dreaded other shoe. You tried to not assume that he had spent the whole night thinking about what a colossal mistake he was making with you. You tried to believe that he would prove it.

Consumed by your internal battle, you almost didn’t hear your phone buzzing.

It was Anthony - one minute past ten.

He sounded relieved to hear your hello. “You answered,” he sighed.

“You called,” was your reply.

“I was up all night,” his sleepy voice confessed.

“Yeah, me too.”

A long, pregnant pause filled the space between you.

“Day number one, Sass. I haven’t changed my mind. Are you ready to let me start proving it to you?”

This was it, the moment you had been begging for all morning. The moment that ended the waiting.

“I’ll try,” you promised with a smile bright in your voice.

________________________________________

@faye-tale @eleanor-bradstreet @musicismyoxygen84 @bridgertontess @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @queen-of-the-misfit-toys

#Anthony Bridgerton Fanfiction #Anthony Bridgerton and Reader #Anthony Bridgerton and You #Bridgerton Modern AU #Anthony Bridgerton x Reader #Anthony Bridgerton x You

217 notes · View notes

lizablee · 5 months

Text

Done Enough (Critical Role Fanfic) Chapter 2

For the first time in a long time, Ashton wished his weapon had a blade.

The fleeting satisfaction of reducing branches to splinters had worn thin, leaving behind only the sturdiest trunks and the most resilient saplings that bounced off his hammer as if mocking his fury. His rage boiled beneath the surface.

With a shout filled with desperation and anger, he leveraged his full strength against a nearby tree. The tree shuddered under the impact but stood firm, immovable and indifferent. Ashton’s shoulders heaved, sweat trickling down his stony exterior,

“That’s an ironwood. Your hammer’s as good as useless.”

Chetney's voice cut through the tension, oddly calm amid the destruction. He stood a few feet away, idly whittling away at one of the half-pulped branches Ashton had discarded.

Ashton panted, his breaths coming in heavy, labored gasps. “Can’t sleep?” he managed to say between breaths.

“Not when there’s so much good wood being wasted. It was calling to me,” Chetney said wistfully. The branch in his hand was starting to vaguely humanoid. “And you’re loud as hell. I’m surprised half the camp isn’t awake.”

Ashton didn’t have it in him to feel regret. Chetney continued.

“I wonder what FCG would say if they were here,” he remarked.

“They chose to kill themself. They don’t get a say in how we grieve.” Ashton replied sharply.

“That’s not fair, Ashton.” Chetney said coldly. “They saved our lives.” Ashton tasted a pinch of shame, and tried to wash it down with anger.

Chetney sighed deeply and took a seat among the roots of the ironwood, his whittling becoming almost unnaturally quick. “You get to be angry, that’s fine. But don’t poison their memory. The rest of us have to grieve too.”

Ashton’s knees felt weak. He sat down, resting his hammer over his lap, and breathed deeply.

“If FCG were here,” he said tiredly, “they’d say something about us all coming together and supporting each other as a team. And they’d probably say they were happy. I bet they were happy, at the end. They got to do what they’ve always wanted to do.”

Chetney tutted. “Very edgy, Ashton. You act like they did this to you and not for you. Listen, I’m made of stronger stuff than the others, and even I’m feeling a bit fucked up by this. So I get it. But keep that bitterness between us, okay? Or between you and the hardwood.” he added, patting the scarred trunk of the tree. “The others aren’t doing very well. We need to keep an eye on Orym. He’s getting pretty dark.”

Ashton leveled a long look at Chetney. The gnome looked weary but resolute. “How are you doing?” Ashton asked gruffly.

Chetney smiled wryly. “I feel old. And I don’t normally feel old. It’s just... it’s tough when someone so young loses their life. Imagine how long FCG could have gone on for. They might have been practically immortal with that body, we don’t know. They could have outlived all of us.”

“They were hundreds of years old.”

“Maybe in body. But they’d been alive, what, like three years?”

“Give or take.”

“Three years old... That’s truly tragic. They never even got to have a childhood.” For a moment, Chetney had a hollow look that made him seem every bit as old as he claimed to be.

“They made me this horrible toolbox when they tried to—” Chetney made a sawblade motion, “—carve me up that first time. The craftsmanship was just appalling. You know what that looked like to me?”

“A waste of wood?”

“No. Potential . Nowhere to go but up.” Chetney looked up to the stars, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and sorrow. “They had only just figured out they could live, hadn’t even worked out what that meant yet. It just sucks.”

Ashton let the words wash over him and sank a little deeper into himself.

“Try not to think about it.” A soft voice sounded from the treeline. Orym dropped down, quiet as a shadow, wandering into the newly made clearing. “Their potential… what they could have been. It’ll drive you crazy.”

Chetney sighed deeply and returned to his whittling. Ashton turned to see Orym, who looked smaller than usual, haunted. His eyes were red, his cheeks puffy, and it was almost too raw for Ashton to bear; he suddenly felt like he was intruding just by being there. If FCG were here, he’d offer a hug.

“Are you okay?” he said, as gently as he could. Orym scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Right now, no. Eventually, yes…” Orym’s voice trembled. “But it doesn’t feel like it yet.” He took a shaky breath. “I know how this goes. So I just need to remember that it won’t feel like this forever. It’s hard to imagine... It’s just hard to... It’s hard.”

Ashton felt tears welling for the second time that evening. He scrambled mentally for that anger, that blessed distracting rage that could hold them at bay. Something else came to mind, unbidden, and he latched onto it. He moved towards Orym and pulled the halfling into a gentle hug.

Pain rippled through his form as Orym hugged back, sobbing. The hug was nice; the pain was grounding. Everything else dimmed a little for a moment. He could see FCG behind his closed eyelids, and for the first time that evening, he felt that the little Aeormaton would be proud of him in this moment.

Orym released Ashton earlier than he expected, probably not wanting to cause more pain. The absence of that sensation felt almost lonely. Orym sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

“You need to sleep.” Chetney remarked gently. “You both need to sleep. I’ll take watch.”

Orym stilled, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Back to back?” he stammered suddenly. Ashton stared at him blankly. “Sorry, it’s just something I saw—something Dorian—listen, do you want to sleep back to back? I think I’ll just sleep better if I’m not alone. It might help you, too?”

“Back to back,” Ashton echoed tentatively. “Yeah, I can do that. Just not too close.”

“Got it,” Orym said gratefully. He moved to pack up his bedroll.

“Enjoy your sleepover,” Chetney remarked offhandedly, returning to his whittling. He was gently carving a pair of mismatched lenses onto a tiny smooth face. Ashton let his eyes linger on the carving a moment longer before following Orym to camp.

It turned out going back to back did make it easier to sleep. And to Ashton’s great relief, he didn’t dream.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #cr3 #cr fcg #fcg #cr ashton #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #orym #cr orym #chetney pock o'pea #cr chetney

27 notes · View notes

romanoffsbish · 2 years

Text

I Can’t Breathe…

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

WandaNat x Fem!Reader (“Platonic”)

Warnings‼️: Suicidal ideation / attempt, Depression, descriptions of drowning both physically/emotionally, Disassociation, and misguided anger. | 1,836 Words

Drowning… You’d always heard it was a peaceful way to go, that once your body’s natural panic is overrun by the all consuming body of water that it’s just like going to sleep. It’s definitely not like the movies, there’s no grand fight to survive, you don’t flail about for hours on end screaming for someone to help, no, it’s a much more daunting experience. Silence all but surrounds you as you try just to keep your head above water, when the exhaustion in your limbs starts to win out, and the panic seeps in it’s likely you’ll gasp or hyperventilate before you finally submerge to the darkness threatening to pull you in.

————

From a personal standpoint you reason it also can’t be that bad when it already feels like you’re drowning above ground to begin with. You watch on, the physical being that houses you walks around lifelessly, and you watch from beneath the surface to see the wreckage.

It’s like you’re not even a person anymore, to exist within the four walls of the compound is nothing short of dreadful, for you and all those who are stuck living around you.

The way everyone looks to you now like you’re no more than a disappointment, as if their life would improve if you were gone, and as the days blend together, and Steve yells at you for the millionth time this year, you begin to think it’s a rather proper assumption.

“Y/L/N! For Christ’s sake what has gotten into you?! Are you so careless that you can’t follow a simple order from your superiors?,” you say nothing, eyes focused in on the star on his suit., “Ignoring me are we? God, you’ve really lost touch with reality haven’t you?,” he releases a bitter chuckle as he moves to level with you., “Put all of us in danger today when you unfroze reality before we were even ready! Now Bucky’s in the infirmary, and not a soul here in is unharmed besides you. You’re a disaster!”

“Jesus Steve, lay off the kid!,” Tony tries to defend you, and if you had the energy to you’d tell him to stop, to drop it because Steve was right, you’re far off from reality, but instead you remain just as silent as when the soldier was directly speaking to you. As the men began to bicker you find your feet move of their own accord, removing you from the dissension; aimlessly you walk the halls of the compound with nothing but the peaceful sounds of waves crashing over you in your mind.

Natasha and Wanda share a panicked look when you walked out of the conference room with that newfound empty expression of yours, those eyes of yours no longer holding all that they’ve grown to love about you. You’re just a hollowed out shell of what they all once knew, long ago are the days where you would smile, and it’s breaking them to see you so torn up. You’ve completely shut them out, it’s been months since they even got to talk to you, but Wanda reasons that as long as she can feel you it’ll be okay, that they’ll give you this space.

—

“Wands, I’m not sure space is the answer.” Natasha sighs while taking up her space in their shared bed., “She has to hit rock bottom Natty, until then nothing we do will help her.,” Wanda reasons, but a massive part of her wonders if she’s on the right track anymore., “Wanda, I think this is her rock bottom.”

Wanda shuts the light off, and slips into a restless sleep alongside her tormented lover, both of them praying you’ll be there when they awake, but both well aware of the chance that you could very well not be.

—

You’re not sure when you slipped into the tub with all your clothes on, but the little bit of cognition you’re holding onto says it’s been at least two hours. Your body shivers violently as the waters lost all its warmth, but instead of getting out, you slip under the surface, and just as you felt yourself ready to give up you shot up, lungs naturally having you gasp for air. Deeply you wished that you were in favor of living, that you did that for you, but the only reason you stopped the inevitable was them.

Natasha and Wanda deserved better than to find your lifeless body in the tub, to see that you’d pitifully given up, and left them behind to pick up the pieces of your fractured life. Passing on your pain isn’t your intention, and so you step out of the tub, loud squelching noises follow you as your soaked clothes move with you into your connected bedroom.

After changing your clothes you creep into the darkened hallways, the likelihood of anyone being awake right now is low, and even then Tony’s likely in his lab with no mind paid to you and your whereabouts. As quietly as you can you cross the hall and enter the room of the women who’ve owned your heart for the better part of the last five years.

“I’m sorry.,” you choked out, your voice even shocking you since it’d been months since you last muttered a word to anyone, you settled a soft kiss to each of their foreheads, and wiped away your fallen tears from their calm brows., “I love you, please don’t hate me…,”

They couldn’t hear you, or feel you of course; seeing as how you’d frozen time in their tiny space, but you simply couldn’t follow through with your plans without a proper goodbye.

With a wave of your hand you’d teleported out of their bedroom, time resuming for the both of them, and as soon as it did Wanda shot up in a panic. She did in fact feel and hear you, but she couldn’t fucking move, she couldn’t scream out to you, it was a terrifying situation for the witch who’d never been bested like this before.

“Natasha! Get up, Y/N’s about to do something stupid, fuck…,” she shrieked, and the assassin jumped to her feet., “Wanda, what happened?,” she asked while slipping her shoes on, anxiety crawling up her spine when she could smell you, your natural scent having lingered., “She’s trying to end her pain Tasha…,” she says over a choked back sob, her body already halfway out the window., “Go, I’ll be right behind you.”

Wanda flew right off, she knew where you were going—they both did, it was the one place you’d always found a sense of calm in this world.

—

It was a beautiful sight, the sunrising over the ocean while your feet dangled over the cliffside, you appreciated the beautiful farewell hues. Memories of all the good flashed across your mind, just like they say it does when one’s about to lose it all, but the oddity here was you’d done nothing to yourself yet. The sound of leaves crunching woke you up from your memory spiral, and it was then you recognized the red hues touching the corner of your mind.

Wanda was stood before you in a mess of tears as you jumped to your feet, pushing her right out of your mind, and you froze the tendrils that sought to bind you in place., “Go home.,” you cooly instructed her, but she just shot more of her magic your way to keep you from your perceived destiny., “Wanda, I’m serious!,” you shouted this time, your patience wasn’t what it used to be, it even hurt to see her flinch, but that just couldn’t compare to your daily misery.

“Y/N, please, you have to know this isn’t the answer!,” you scoffed., “Wanda, this is the only answer that has made sense to me all year.,”

Wanda wasn’t going to stop, you knew that much, so you did the only thing you could do. Wanda pleaded with you to stop, but your hands were up before she could even finish her ‘I love you.,’ hearing it would’ve hurt too much. It wasn’t true anyways, she loved Y/N Y/L/N, and at this point you’re not sure she exists anymore., “I’m sorry Wands, you’ll be okay.”

It was now or never you realized, it was only a matter of time before the other half arrived. Taking a steadying breath you began to run for the cliffs edge, but Natasha’s bike slid across the rocky terrain and she jumped off to tackle you, and to your complete shock it worked. You’d had many skills, but being a better fighter than The Black Widow wasn’t one of them, she always overpowered you when your powers were off limits., “Natasha, get off!”

“Are you fucking stupid? Absolutely not!,” she growled, her face now hovering above yours., “Natalia, I’m not fucking playing, get off of me, and let me put us all out of our misery!,” you struggled against her hold, but it was no use.

Natasha could quite literally hold you in place with her toned thighs alone, and with hands you might as well resolve to letting her carry you home now., “This is beneath you Natasha, saving a screw up like me isn’t your job.” She chuckled humorlessly., “You are beneath me, that is one thing you have correct here Y/L/N.”

Her play on words only pissed you off, as if taunting you was fair at all., “I’m not going back with you two, so give up already!,” she scoffed., “You don’t have a fucking choice.”

You began to thrash beneath her, even if you couldn’t get her off you could definitely upset her peace., “Let me die! It’s my fucking choice, not yours, not hers, mine!,” Wanda was now by you since Natasha cuffed your hands, using her lap she shielded your head from the rocks you were violently bashing against., “I don’t want to do this anymore! I’m so fucking exhausted, I’ve never had a choice, and I finally do now so let me make it, and just fuck right off.”

“Let me go!,” you sobbed repeatedly, and the women watched you, helpless as you broke down beneath them., “I don’t want to live.,” you continued to cry out, your body shook with inconsolable sobs., “Please…,” but the strength you once had faded the longer you laid there.

“Shh, detka, we’ve got you.,” Wanda coo’d, her strong arms lifting your now pliant body up and into her hold, and Natasha scooted in to sandwich you in between them., “We’re not going anywhere dorogoy, you’re not alone.,” she added, laying a kiss to your sweaty temple, and allowing her own tears to finally fall as you heartbreakingly whimpered in Wanda’s arms.

Wanda and Natasha shared a knowing look, this was your rock bottom, and they were glad they got to ensure it stayed metaphorical, and they knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d do anything to ensure it stayed as such.

————————————————————

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #gxg #wandanat #wanda x you x nat #wanda x natasha x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda x nat x reader #wandanat imagine #wandanat angst #wandanat x female reader #wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader blurb #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wandanat oneshot #wandanat pov

517 notes · View notes

pain-in-the-butler · 5 months

Note

I'm a bit curious but can coattails ciel rank the people in his surroundings from least bothersome to most bothersome? (I'm kind of curious where sebastian or the midfords would be)

Oh, hm! Could Ciel rank them, probably not, but maybe I could do it for him lol. That’s sort of a complicated question I imagine... Both considering it’s Ciel and considering he’s a teenager, I think he finds everyone in his life at least a little bit bothersome. And sometimes the people who bother him the most at other times bother him the least — or when they bother him, they're actually helping him in ways he can’t allow himself to feel yet. I wonder who I could be referring to there...

Anyway, here is my best guess at his least to most bothersome list!

Diedrich: Ciel actually probably likes Diedrich a fair bit, and this definitely owes itself to how little Ciel sees him and how uninvested Di seems in his personal life. Their relationship feels very business-centered to Ciel, which he likes, but there is also an unspoken comfort that comes from knowing that Diedrich is an old family friend. Ciel likes bullying him for sport because Diedrich is rather toothless about it. But Ciel also admires him and wants Diedrich’s good opinion. Meanwhile, Diedrich is the child-free uncle who has no idea how kids work and probably imagines Ciel thinks little good of him.

Tanaka: Though he doesn’t really let himself feel it all the time, Ciel thinks the world of Tanaka and loves him like a grandfather. He shows Tanaka his true emotions more readily than he would with his blood relatives, but is still cautious because he sees Tanaka as someone he could frighten off if he were to be too honest about his anger and sadness. It’s part of why he feels so nervous whenever Tanaka tries to have an earnest conversation with him. He doesn’t like when Tanaka tries to understand him emotionally, but he feels more guilty about it than truly bothered.

Agni: Ciel and Agni don't have much of a close relationship, though I'm sure Ciel would be embarrassed if he knew how often Sebastian went to Agni for advice, and even more embarrassed if he knew how much Agni cared for him. That said, while Ciel sees Agni as a really good butler, he also sees him as an idiot to be so blinded by devotion for Soma of all people. Ciel is not a very nice boy sometimes…

Bard, Mey-Rin, and Finny: While their care for him can feel strange for Ciel at times, ultimately Bard, Mey-Rin, and Finny’s annoyances are very surface level. Ciel likes that they make life harder for Sebastian, and he also feels very soothed by their honesty and simplicity. To him, their love is genuine and unfettered and unable to be marred, like the love of dogs towards a kind master, it’s pretty rude honestly — but right now it’s harder for him to grasp that their love is as complicated as anyone else’s, and it’s only under these invented circumstances that Ciel is capable of quietly accepting it.

Lizzie: Lizzie is another person whose annoyances mainly rest on the surface. She likes raucous music and clothes that stand out and gossip and sports; she’s very energetic, highly social, and not easily embarrassed. She’s largely the opposite of Ciel, and so there’s strain there. He often feels like he has to put up with her, but he’s able to acknowledge that she also has to put up with him, and it’s surprising for Ciel that she can still like him regardless. It bothers him that she likes to kiss him on the cheek so much lately, but he feels even more bothered by the fact that he doesn’t like it. Ciel both sees Lizzie as a silly girl with silly whims and as someone entirely accomplished in dozens of ways he isn’t.

Edward: Meanwhile, Ciel does not have a secret high opinion of Edward at all. In fact, Ciel sees Edward as almost entirely annoying, but since Edward’s even more fun to annoy back, he doesn’t fall as low on the list. Still, Ciel regards his oldest cousin rather unfavorably. Perhaps this opinion will change in the future…

Alexis: Ciel’s only uncle boggles his mind with his displays of affection and boisterous kindness. And after trying to give Ciel “the talk” in public, Alexis especially solidified himself as an annoyance. Behind the ridiculousness, Ciel knows his uncle is very intelligent and trustworthy, but does he have to be so overbearing…

Soma: No one can speedrun getting on Ciel’s last nerve quite like Soma can. All he has to do is cry out, “Hey Ciel, listen!” and the kid’s blood pressure is already skyrocketing. Similarly to Lizzie, Soma is also very much the opposite of Ciel: high energy, highly needy, and very childish in nature. Soma is not good at keeping himself entertained, and that need for constant companionship (and conversation) ensures that Ciel’s interactions with the prince will stay limited. But somehow the idea of Soma not being in his life at all feels worse… not that Ciel will ever admit it to anyone, including himself.

Francis: Ciel’s relationship with his aunt has become much more tenuous since he hit puberty. He still has a lot of respect for her, but he’s livid with her sudden desire to play a larger role in his upbringing. Her exerting her opinion over his life and trying to insinuate that she always could makes him want to tear his hair out. If it were modern times, he would surely be screaming, “You’re not the boss of me!” and slamming the bedroom door in her face. Of course, he’s essentially already doing that with…

Sebastian: Because who possibly annoys an easily-annoyed teenager more than a parent? And Sebastian was already a headache well before he took on that parental role, but the addition of kindness and forcing emotional conversations has perfectly cemented Sebastian as the biggest bother in the universe. Sebastian is the one being in Ciel’s life that cannot ever go away for good, a fact that brings Ciel rage and comfort in equal measure. Soma may be irritating, Aunt Francis may be presumptuous, but Sebastian is both of those things and an idiot to boot. And his constant insistence that Ciel is still a child who needs to be looked after and coddled? The only thing worse than that notion is the fact that sometimes Sebastian is right.

Sebastian is easily the king of pissing Ciel off. At the same time, he’s the only one Ciel can show the full brunt of his angry, sad, annoyed, tender emotions to without fearing that Sebastian might go away forever. With that in mind, could Sebastian also be the least bothersome here…? Would this list be better understood if it was not presented as a linear rank but rather a circle that loops all the way around…? Hmm, I wonder……..

#thanks so much for the question!#coattails

20 notes · View notes

thelaughtercafe · 7 months

Text

Intervention

Tea Type: Milk Tea

Potential Triggers:

Pairing: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu/F! Reader

Length: 700

Summary: Your constant interference in Fuyuhiko's job makes him come to a difficult decision.

To say Fuyuhiko was pissed was an understatement. He’d tried so hard to keep this mission under wraps so you wouldn’t do something stupid again but here he was, nervously pacing a hole in the floor of your room as the best medic he knew looked over you.

The second the girl stood up straight Fuyuhiko barked at her, making her squeak.

“She’d better be okay!"

His former classmate knew him well enough to know his threats were out of fear and worry and she turned to smile patiently at him.

"She’ll be just fine. It was only a surface level bullet would. It didn’t hit any organs thankfully. She should be waking up soon, but still don’t push her too hard, okay? Her body is going to want to rest to heal itself."

Mikan placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder in support and then departed.

You groaned as you came to a few moments later, looking around groggily. Fuyuhiko frowned deeply at your side but you smiled and your eyes lit up at the sight of your boyfriend.

"Fuyuhiko! Thank God you’re okay I’m so-”

“We need to break up.”

“…What?”

Your smile fell instantly to one of worry as his frown never faltered though his eyes did drop and he shuffled his feet nervously. His face hardened suddenly and he met your gaze coldly.

“I’m done dragging you into this life. I’m not going to be responsible for you dying to protect me. I’m no good for you.”

You cried out as he went to stand, lunging forward to grab his hand and wincing as you jostled the wound in your side.

“Fuyu-ow!”

Worry flashed in his eyes and he rushed to push you down a little roughly as he put all his weight on your shoulders.

“Ok ok I won’t leave! The Hell are you doing, trying to reopen the wound!?"

You glared up at him suddenly passionate and he flushed as your hands moved to frame his cheeks so he’d maintain eye contact with you.

"Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. Just like you don’t want me to die; I’m not just going to stand on the sidelines while you put yourself at risk either! If you want to be a coward and run away from this relationship; make no mistake; you’re not doing it for me. You’re doing it for yourself you selfish jerk!”

His eyes narrowed as he growled down at you.

“Did you just call me a coward?!”

Of course he’d focus on that. Despite his apparent anger you could see he was flustered and his grip on your shoulders had softened. He was so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

You smirked.

“I sure did! And unless you make the right decision and let me help you’ll always be one. So…the obvious solution I’ve been asking for for ages is…”

You trailed off, looking up at him expectantly and he sighed in defeat gently pulling your hands away with his own and cradling them as he leaned down to press his lips to your fingertips, never looking away from your eyes the whole while.

He felt satisfaction go through him as you were the one looking flustered and sheepish this time.

“These hands are gonna cause me a lot more trouble…and maybe you’re right; I am a coward. A better Yakuza than me would have the strength to let you go. But…well.”

He chuckled and leaned down to seal your lips with his, only pulling back when you were both out of breath. His smirk was comfortingly familiar as he trailed his fingers through your hair.

“I am also selfish. I want you by my side for as long as we both live. You win you ballsy motherfucker… I’ll train you. But don’t expect it to be easy!”

The grin that broke out across your lips was legendary and Mikan had to tell Fuyuhiko to leave as you got too excited to sleep.

Maybe he had changed you…but you’d changed him just as much. Now he was hopeless without you.

Whoops.

Oh well. Guess it couldn’t be helped.

He was stuck with you.

#super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 #danganronapa 2 goodbye despair #danganronpa fic #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x reader #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x you #fuyuhiko x you #fyuhiko x reader #danganronpa 2 headcanons #tlc: milk tea #tlc: fic

31 notes · View notes

whispersfromtheshadowsoffical · 11 days

Note

Hello, twins asking! ( •ᴗ•)⸝🍵 ☕️⸜(•ᴗ• )

I L-O-V-E-D this the moment I saw it, everything looks really cool!!!! So I showed it to my brother and we both started gushing about it.

Since you don't mind answering questions, I would love to know if the game will have the option to indulge their yandere tendencies? I love Xenos, he would just need to bat his eyelashes for me to smooch him, even if he just admitted to killing a whole group of people (ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³ ~ Coffee

Following what Coffee said, I was wondering... I saw that they all have different stats for jealousy levels, which is interesting!✧*。Anyway, my question was, how would their different personalities play into how they acted when, you know, losing their shit? Like, full on yandere mode! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ ~ Tea

Hello! Thank you for sending in an ask! I'm so glad you like my game so far, and I'm super excited for it to come out! After reading your ask, I literally had a giant smile on my face!

The whole reason I made this game was so people could choose their personality and how they want to react to a yandere. What gave me this idea is when I was reading fanfics I always saw people complaining about the MC so I really want this game to be like choose your own character type kind of thing. And tbh right now Xenos is one of my favorites and I would give him everything so OF COURSE there will be options to indulge them :3

Each character I made after a certain type of personality so you get the full Yandere experience, Which means varying levels of jealousy and other things ;)

Apollo, in his delusional state, is quick to feel betrayed and insecure, especially when things don’t go the way he imagines. His mind spirals into irrational conclusions, leaving him in a whirlwind of confusion and hurt. In these moments, he’s like a puppy desperately seeking reassurance. But no matter how much pain he feels, he’ll never direct the blame at you. To him, you’re flawless, untouchable. Instead, he turns on himself and those around him, lashing out with accusations. He'll say things like, "They must’ve tricked you," or, "It’s all their fault!" He becomes his own worst critic, convinced that he must be the one who’s not good enough, or that everyone else is conspiring against your love. Yet through it all, in his mind, you remain perfect—beyond reproach, untouched by his anger, the center of his affection.

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

Soren, on the other hand, has two sides. His sadistic side where It doesn’t matter if it’s not your fault—he finds a twisted pleasure in watching you squirm under his accusations. His sadistic tendencies ensure that punishment is inevitable, and while he might take his frustrations out on you, there’s no need to worry about your pretty face. Soren values beauty too much to mar it, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get off easily. His temper flares unpredictably, much like Xenos, and when he lashes out, it’s with a dangerous mix of frustration and cruelty. He might bind you, lock you away, or even subject you to mental torment, always ensuring you’re aware of who’s in control, but the surface will remain unscathed—after all, you’re his pretty little thing.

Soren his most common side is where he manipulates you. If he senses you drifting away, he’ll break down, tears streaming down his face as he pleads for your attention. His soft, angelic appearance makes it easy for you to feel sorry for him, to comfort him despite your better judgment. In those moments, he knows exactly how to make you fall back into his grasp, using every bit of his charm to ensure you stay right where he wants you. His manipulative side is just as dangerous as his sadism—he plays both roles effortlessly, depending on what keeps you in his collection.

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

Lynx, in all his arrogance, expects nothing less than complete devotion. In his mind, you belong to him—his possession, his plaything—but he’d never admit it openly. Instead, he hides behind layers of pride and tsundere denial, acting as if your existence is merely to serve him and fulfill his every whim. You’re there to do his bidding, cater to his needs, and he’ll rarely give you the satisfaction of knowing just how much he actually cares.

When jealousy strikes, that’s when his true feelings bubble to the surface, though he’ll never express it in any way other than through sharp words. He’ll lash out, insulting you in that indirect, roundabout way of his. Maybe it’s something like, "Why would I care what you do? It’s not like you’re important or anything," or a sarcastic comment meant to remind you of your place. It’s his way of asserting control, of letting you know that he’s the one in charge, and you’re his. But deep down, you might catch a glimpse of the truth—the possessiveness hidden behind his words, the flicker of insecurity that drives his cruel tongue.

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

Xenos is the embodiment of obsession, always lurking in the shadows, watching your every move with a twisted sense of fascination. He prefers to stay hidden, observing from afar as he documents every detail of your life. His favorite pastime? Playing little tricks on you, just to see your adorable reactions. Maybe it's something as simple as moving your belongings or sending anonymous messages, but he lives for the moments when your confusion shows on your face, savoring every expression as if it's a personal gift.

However, when jealousy consumes him, his calm facade cracks wide open. Much like Kanto from Diabolik Lovers, Xenos doesn't handle jealousy well—he’s far too emotionally unstable. He’ll lash out in a childish fit of frustration, screaming and crying as if the world’s crashing down. His tantrums are unpredictable, full of wild accusations and irrational behavior, all fueled by the fear of losing his obsession.

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

Nox is perhaps the most overprotective among them, making him seem like the tamest at first glance. His primary concern is your safety, and he genuinely believes that no one can care for you as well as he can. Nox doesn't outwardly display jealousy; in fact, he convinces himself that he's not jealous at all. But actions speak louder than words. He might subtly isolate you from others under the guise of protection, insisting that the world is too dangerous for someone as precious as you.

When he locks you away, it's not out of malice but out of a twisted sense of love and duty. "It's for your own good," he'll say softly, assuring you that this is the only way to keep you safe from all the bad creatures out there. His demeanor is gentle, his touch soft, making it easy to overlook the fact that you're essentially a prisoner in his care. Nox creates a comfortable environment for you, tending to your needs and lavishing you with attention. He might bring you your favorite books, cook your favorite meals, and spend hours engaging in conversations to keep you content.

Deep down, Nox struggles with the fear of losing you to the dangers he perceives in the world—or perhaps to others who might win your affection. He masks his insecurities by focusing on your well-being, convincing both you and himself that his actions are justified. In his mind, he's your guardian angel, the only one capable of ensuring your happiness and safety. While he doesn't throw fits of jealousy like others might, his overprotectiveness is a cage wrapped in kindness.

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

Kaine is the ultimate flirt, always playful and teasing, never seeming to take anything too seriously. His charm is effortless, and he thrives on the reactions he gets, especially when he makes you blush or sends a shiver down your spine. It’s a game to him—he’ll scare you just enough to have you running straight into his arms, unaware that he’s the danger you should be fleeing from. The thrill of seeing fear flash in your eyes is something he relishes, and unlike others, he’s not subtle about it. He openly adores how vulnerable you become in those moments, how easy it is for him to slip in and play the hero to the very terror he creates.

While Kaine shares a sadistic streak with Soren, he’s far more forward about it. He doesn't hide behind tears or manipulative tactics; he sees no need to. In his mind, he doesn’t have to play mind games to make you his. He’s confident—perhaps even cocky—in his ability to get what he wants without resorting to deception. He believes he can break you down, piece by piece, and mold you into his perfect, compliant doll with nothing more than his charm and his sadistic tendencies.

Kaine’s affection is fierce and dangerous, but he’ll never hide it. He’ll show you exactly how much he enjoys your fear, how much it excites him to see you squirm, all while flashing that irresistible smile. There’s no need for manipulation when he can so easily bend you to his will with a mere glance or whispered word. His goal isn’t just to own you; it’s to reshape you, to transform you into his ideal creation—a perfect doll that responds to his every whim, trapped by the very affection that feels both comforting and terrifying.

#visual novel #whispers from the shadows #english otome #indie otome #my ocs #oc #ask

19 notes · View notes