onwhatcaptain · 9 months ago
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Back again with another snippet from my fic. This is from chapter 10, and the conclusion of part 1.
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For the first time in the longest time, Spock cries. He weeps as he did when he was just a child. He sobs because he is in pain, and because his heart hurts. No other reason. He is under the influence of nothing but a deep welling pit of grief, and he cannot summon the mortification and self-censure it takes to stop. When he wipes the tears from his eyes, more drip down his cheeks.
If you are curious, my fic "I Shall Do Neither" is here at AO3. Details below as always, and big thank you to everyone who has read along so far.
I Shall Do Neither (59729 words) by onwhatcaptain Chapters: 11/22 Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock Characters: James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek), Leonard "Bones" McCoy Additional Tags: Romance, Angst, Heavy Angst, Loss of Control, Psychological Trauma, Mutual Pining, Five Year Mission (Star Trek), Episode: s02e05 Amok Time, Post-Episode: s02e05 Amok Time, Pon Farr, Pon Farr Aftermath (Star Trek), Unresolved Sexual Tension, Friendship, Grief, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Unreliable Narrator, Vulcan Biology, Tarsus IV (Star Trek), Vulcan Mind Melds, Non-Linear Narrative, Storytelling Through Vignettes, Missing Scenes Between Episodes, Plot, Cover Art, Canon Divergence, Digital Art, Illustrations, In spite of the description Kirk features heavily in this novel Summary: In the wake of the kal-if-fee on Vulcan, Kirk is dead. When T’Pau tells Spock to live long and prosper, he knows he shall do neither. This is a story about men who love each other, and the lengths they will go to for one another. - Foolish, he thinks. I have been a fool. How he had wanted so desperately to prove his Vulcan side. How all his life it had felt like a performance, and yet, to be finally subject to the most Vulcan thing of all destroyed him. The stripping of logic. All sense torn from him. His carefully constructed barriers had collapsed like a flimsy house of cards. To be granted his wish this way was a type of mockery. How he had wanted to be fully Vulcan. To prove that the blood which runs through his veins was not so human. How wanting had been better than having. - This story is told in two parts across 21 chapters, and will be updated on Sundays.
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plusultraetc · 5 months ago
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423 spoilers in the tags <3
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dixons-sunshine · 4 months ago
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Sweetest | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Wounded and benched from runs for the week, Daryl was asked to watch the kids in the prison while you and some of the others worked on repairing a breach in one of the fences. One of the kids asked Daryl how he met you, his wife, and it made for a rather sweet tale.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Prison, pre season 4.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.
Warnings: None.
Word count: 1.6k.
A/n: This turned out worse than I hoped, better than I expected. I don't really know how to explain it, but I hope you like this! (Thank you @ddamm and @dixondystopia for giving me your favourite moments from the entire series to add to this! They were pretty much the same, so great minds truly do think alike, as they say.)
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“Mr Dixon?”
At the sound of his name being called, Daryl looked up from his baby girl and locked eyes with a little girl—Mika, he believed her name was—who was staring at him with a big smile. “Yeah?” he replied, slightly bouncing his knee when Hazel began fussing a little.
Mika giggled slightly, sharing a look with her sister, Lizzie, before turning back to the archer. “Mrs Dixon is your wife, right?” she inquired, bouncing slightly on her feet.
Daryl's lips involuntarily twitched up at the mere mention of you. He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah? Why do ya ask?”
“Well, my dad likes to talk about how he met my mom. Mr Greene has told us how he met his last wife a million times. We wanna know how you met Mrs Dixon!”
Almost as if for added emphasis, the other children all perked up and voiced their interest in knowing the tale of how Daryl met you, his beautiful wife. The archer, both amused by the children's nosiness and embarrassed by the metaphorical spotlight he was placed under, let out a small scoff and adjusted Hazel in his arms, allowing the small girl to happily toy with his fingers. “It ain't some big love story or nothin'. It'll only bore ya.”
“No, it won't,” Carl added from his position atop one of the tables. The teenager had been sulking because Rick had forbade him from helping fix the breach in the fence—where several walkers had managed to crawl through—but the chance of getting to know some insight to one of the most talked about couples in the prison brightened his mood somewhat. You and Daryl were the only couple that dated back before the outbreak, and everyone was eager to know how the two of you got together, and how you managed to keep that spark alive. “We wanna know. Come on, Daryl. Please.”
Daryl let out a small groan and rolled his eyes at the young Grimes' insistence. “Why dun' y'all go pester Glenn or somebody? M'sure he'd be more than happy to tell y'all 'bout how he met Maggie.”
“But he's told us that story a zillion times already,” one of the kids groaned. “We wanna hear your story. Please, Mr Dixon.”
Daryl let out a deep sigh. From somewhere behind him, he could hear Carol chuckle, closely followed by the chuckles of a few of the adults that were taking a break from their chores around the prison. Daryl shook his head and pursed his lips. “Y'all really wanna hear?” Almost instantly, all of the kids perked up and simultaneously voiced their clear interest, trying to talk over the other. Daryl raised his eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Woah, calm down. I ain't sayin' nothin' 'til y'all quiet down.” And just like that, it got so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. “Y/n and I go back many years, long 'fore all'a y'all kids were born. We're closin' in on three decades'a knowin' one another.”
“Thirty years?” Carl voiced in a disbelieving tone. “That's basically forever!”
Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess ya can say tha', yeah.” Daryl shushed Hazel when she began fussing a bit, lightly tickling her stomach to coax a laugh from her. “We met when we were twelve, 'side this river in the woods outside the trailer park we lived in. I admit, I didn't know wha' to think'a her at first. Refused to talk to her fer a whole month, but she never gave up. She kept pesterin' me 'til one day, somethin' happened and I broke my quiet facade. Tha's when we started becomin' friends.” Daryl stopped and tried to hide the smile that spread across his face, but to no avail. “She, uh... She quickly became my best friend after tha'.”
“When did you start love-liking her?” one of the kids asked with a giggle, closely followed by the mischievous laughter of the other kids.
Daryl hummed and shrugged. “After she did somethin' fer my sixteenth birthday. I liked her fer a while 'fore tha', but tha' occasion was my wake-up call. My feelin's fer her slapped me righ' in the face tha' day.” He stopped and let out a small sigh before continuing. “I didn't have the balls to confess to her fer 'nother year after tha'. And when I did confess, it was righ' after we went and bought pa—” Daryl cut himself off, painfully aware of the immature teenage boys that would freak out over the mere mention of pads. Because of that, he altered the truth a little. “...Pasta fer dinner tha' nigh'. Things escalated and we kissed, and then her mom walked in.”
“No,” Beth gasped, slightly tightening her grip on Judith as she thought of the embarrassing scenario.
Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “It was embarrassin' as shi—crap, tha's fer sure, but we lived. Her mom was nice 'bout it all. Definitely didn't mean we could escape her teasin', though.” He pursed his lips as he thought of that moment, the embarrassment still fresh in his mind, even all those years later. “Her teasin' got even worse when Y/n and I eloped. She was kinda upset 'bout it, but she soon went straight back to teasin' us fer not bein' able to wait to have a proper weddin'.”
By that point, unbeknownst to the archer, the group that had been working on fixing the fence—a group that included you—had silently stepped into the part of the prison everyone was in to alert the kids to the fact that they could go play. However, once they heard what the crossbow-wielding man was talking about, they stopped and remained quiet, eager to hear about it all. And you stayed quiet as well, quite shocked that your husband was willingly telling stories about his past with you. He preferred to keep that part of his life private, but there he was, happily talking away. It made your heart swell with love and affection for the man.
“The two of you stayed together for all those years?” Zach—Beth's boyfriend—asked, leaning against the wall. When Daryl nodded, he continued. “How?”
Daryl shrugged and adjusted his daughter in his arms again, feeling her head begin to droop as she was beginning to fall asleep. “I love 'er. And fer some reason I still don't understand 'til this day, she loves me. Ain't tha' hard to stay committed to the person ya love the most. Relationships ain't always all sunshines and rainbows, but when yer with the person ya love, s'all worth it. Y/n taught me tha'. She's the sweetest person ever. I dun' know wha' I did to deserve her, but I thank my lucky stars every day tha' I get to call her mine.”
It went silent after that. The only sound that could be heard was the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the fences. That is, until Rick spoke up from behind the huntsman, startling him and alerting him to the fact that essentially everyone had heard him practically rave about you.
“Well said, brother. Well said,” Rick complimented him, a faint, teasing smile on his face. He turned towards the younger ones in the group and gestured towards the door. “Y'all can go play now. Just stay away from the fences.” And just like that, all the kids—except Carl—had forgotten their need to hear about Daryl's love story with you. They all excitedly darted out the door, their laughter fading as they disappeared out the doors.
Michonne smirked, playfully hitting you on the back. “Y/n, you never told me you found such a keeper. And you found him early on, too. You're so lucky.”
“Yeah, she is,” Carol chipped in, a teasing smile on her face as well. “Did I ever tell you about this one guy in our old camp that insulted her and Daryl instantly put him on his ass? He did accidentally reveal her pregnancy while doing so, but that's besides the point.”
“Was it Shane?” Rick asked, sighing when Carol nodded. “Yeah, of course it was,” he mumbled while he shook his head.
“Not to mention how he nearly killed Jenner because he wouldn't let us out—well, wouldn't let them out. He didn't care much for us back then. We all know he only wanted the doors open so that Y/n was safe,” Glenn piped in.
“Aw,” Michonne cooed teasingly. “That is so sweet, Daryl. You're just a big teddy bear.”
Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment as the others joined in on the teasing as well. He could feel his cheeks flush, and he would've gotten up and bolted from the embarrassing situation, had it not been for the fact that Hazel had just fallen asleep, and he didn't want to wake her.
The feeling of your hand being rested on his shoulder almost instantly made him calm down, your familiar touch bringing a sense of comfort to him. The rest of the group were to busy relaying their favourite moments they had seen between the two of you to notice this interaction, and the archer was glad about that. He was also glad that they couldn't hear what you whispered in his ear, because although Daryl Dixon wasn't a selfish man, the others didn't have to hear these words you clearly meant just for him:
“I'm proud of you. You climbed out of your shell today and did something I know you don't always enjoy doing. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon, and I love you so much.” You placed a soft, tender kiss on his cheek. “You really are the sweetest person ever.”
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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strlingsav · 2 years ago
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hear me out: team 141& female reader go to the bar post successful mission, everyone's a lil too drunk, she makes a move on ghost but he's like "ok uve had too much" (I dnt think he's rly drunk tho) and he brings her back to his room to take care of her, but hes like wait "I've always wanted you" THEN THE HOT AND STEAMY STUFF *ofc it's all consensual*
Ohhhhhhh yes, right up my alley 👀
Always
– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
— Your Lieutenant confesses his feelings.
Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.
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It wasn't your idea to go out; it was never anyone but Soap that always suggested a pint at the bar around the corner. A run-down dive bar across the street from the base, where every soldier knew it was the best place for cheap drinks and entertainment.
It was the kind of place that belonged to the coarse, gruff men that chain-smoked and didn't want to go home sober. The kind that kept their eyes on you as you wandered in, before turning their interest back to the beer in front of them.
You shared a table with the squad. You were a bit hesitant to join them after hearing the stories Soap told about the place. The time he nearly had a dart thrown in his chest during a drunken game, or when he'd lost a lot of money during a pool match. Nonetheless, you'd been convinced, citing something like, "one time can't hurt".
It was filled with cigarette smoke, classic-rock, and the heavy smell of beer. Price lit up a cigar, puffing on it from the far end of the table. He seemed to enjoy the music and beer, not paying much attention to the ongoing conversation between you. Gaz and Soap had been ragging on each other, Ghost joining in when he felt it necessary.
Soap was already a few drinks in, pressuring you to keep up with him. You could, and did, though you knew you'd have to walk back afterward and thoroughly regretted the three you'd already had.
Ghost sat beside you, a hand around his glass of bourbon, quietly surveying the conversation, chiming in with a scoff or witty comment about Soap's intelligence every so often.
"You are not a Scotsman," You shook your head, watching the drunken man nod his head along to the guitar and drums from the speakers.
"Piss off," He sneered. "What are you on about?"
"You can't hold your liquor," You said back, leaning forward with a smug grin.
"And you can? I'm drinkin' you under the table."
"We're even," You rolled your eyes, sitting back. "'Sides, I'm savouring it."
"Shite's gettin' warm in your hand!" He exclaimed.
You narrowed your eyes, shooting the last of your beer back.
"Let's do a few shots, then. And grab me another beer."
His eyes lit up, a smirk on his face. "Now you're talkin' kid." He shuffled out of his seat, stumbling every so slightly as he headed toward the bar.
"He won't stop 'til he's ahead of ya," Ghost said, leaning into your ear.
You shivered. The timbre of his voice in your ear brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Looking over at him, you furrowed your brows, inspecting his eyes. Dark and void, no flecks of any other colour to be seen. They were deep and mesmerizing, a black hole ready to suck you in. You noticed you'd been staring longer than normal, pursing your lips before shifting your gaze.
"I know," You were distracted now with the image of Soap, carrying four shot glasses filled with a mysterious liquid. "It's fun to see him try though."
"More entertainin' watchin' him act like a git."
You grinned.
Price then announced he was heading out, mumbling, "I ain't in the mood for watchin' you drunks all night."
You'd bid him good night, but not before trying to convince him to stay. He'd resigned himself to a night in, drinking his expensive liquor, puffing his cigar in the privacy of his own office. He left with a short goodbye, warning the rest of you not to get out of control.
Soap set the shots down, handing you yours with a polite smile.
"Think we should cheers," He said, sitting down. His speech was now obviously slurring. "To another fuckin' mission finished, and to gettin' back home, away from you fuckers."
You shrugged, colliding your glass with his, before tipping it back and letting it slide down your throat. You shut your eyes, swallowing harshly, nearly choking on the burn in your chest.
"Jesus," You were hoarse, a strangled sound leaving your lips. You recognized the flavour of the drink- vodka. "Nasty."
You sat back, your eyes scanning the bar. It was getting harder to see straight- ghost trails and lazy blinks disrupting your vision. A deep breath in did nothing to clear your head, but damn did it feel good.
"Here," He handed you the second.
You hadn't quite recovered from the first, still feeling it sitting in your throat. Your ribs shifted with a heavy inhale, desperately trying to swallow the liquid fire. Your eyes landed on Soap, an amused grin across his face, though you'd already gulped down the shot before he could say anything.
He chased his shot with the beer in front of him, a grimace across his face- the same as yours. It hit you within a few minutes, only exacerbating the way everything seemed to blur together.
It felt great. Fucking great, to drink, relax, unwind. Have fun, for the first time in months. Dress in something other than fatigues and twenty pounds of equipment. To shower and brush your teeth with running water. You'd finally de-tangled your hair, appreciated the sweet smell of deodorant, worn makeup. You were reminded of it by Gaz, when he commented that your face looked "different" from the usual.
Your head turned, catching Ghost's eyes on the way by, and you smiled softly. It was unintentional, nearly uncontrollable at this point in the evening. He averted his gaze.
You'd always thought highly of him, respected him. You had to. But the causal dress brought out a different side of him, a side that had a sense of humour and didn't mind listening to the back and forth between yourself and Soap. A side you wouldn't mind seeing more often. He wasn't just your Lieutenant now, and your drunken self had taken note of that.
You squinted, trying to imagine the face beneath the mask. His eyes were alluring on their own, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of just how handsome he probably was.
You'd let your guard down, after so long of denying the fact that you were attracted to him, you'd admitted it to yourself. You knew you were digging yourself into a hole, unsure how you'd function while working with him, how you'd ever leave the attraction behind and behave in a strictly professional manner.
It was more difficult to think about drunk than it was while sober. While sober, you could pretend his voice didn't awaken a thrumming in your chest, or that you definitely didn't like the way his fatigues fit his body. But drunk- it was a different story. You'd had your eyes all over him, uncaring and indifferent to whether he noticed or not.
It came with urgency, a giggle bubbling up before you could stop it. It was just another urge you couldn't quite hold in. You'd been studying him, and only when he turned to you, did you realize it. You'd been caught.
"What's funny?" He asked, raising a brow.
You waved your hand, trying to dismiss his question, nearly knocking your empty beer bottle off the table. You caught it with a clumsy hand, pushing it out of reach and clutching your full drink to your chest.
"Lightweight," Soap announced, the usual shit-eating grin on his face.
"Fuck off, Johnny."
"You're a mean drunk, kid."
"I'm not drunk." You noticed that your own speech was slurring now. Your mouth particularly difficult to control, short bursts of giggles exploding without warning. "Okay," You nodded slowly. "Just a bit."
Soap laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that made you wince. He'd also indulged a bit too much, his cockiness making an unexpected appearance.
"Let's win us a game of pool," Soap said, turning to Gaz.
"I'm not giving you any money," Gaz answered, following close behind as the two made their way to the tables.
You sighed heavily, relishing in the feeling of not being in control. Letting go, falling into the drunken stupor you'd gotten yourself into. It was cathartic. Especially after a gruelling mission.
You turned your attention to Ghost, your head tilting up to look at him.
"Just you and me, Loot," You pursed your lips. "Tell me your war stories."
"Don't have any interesting enough." He took another sip, his lips wet with liquor. You could hardly tear your eyes away.
"Bullshit," You grinned.
He shrugged it off, licking the leftover liquid from his mouth. You'd see his lips before, seen the stubble that lined his chin. You knew he was handsome.
"You should take off the mask," You said, still very intrigued.
"Why's that?" He asked, his gaze flickering between your lips and eyes.
"You're handsome. Not sure why you hide it," You popped a cashew in your mouth from the communal bowl on the table.
"I know. That ain't why I wear it," He said. His eyes fell to the cashews in your hand. "Shouldn't eat those."
You stopped your chewing, furrowing your brows as you set the remaining cashews back in the bowl. He was right; by the looks of it they were old- you hadn't noticed with the blurry haze of liquor distorting your vision.
"Always looking out," You grinned sheepishly. "It's alright to take a night off."
"Not when you're pissed," He commented.
You scowled, "I'm not pissed- I'm tipsy. At the most, a bit drunk." Your tone was harsher than intended.
"You're pissed," He nodded.
"You're deflecting. We were talking about how handsome you are."
"No we weren't," He said, swallowing another gulp.
"Okay," You sighed. Admittedly, it was taking a lot of brain power to follow the conversation. "I was talking about it."
He nodded. "You usually so irritatin' when you're in the bag?"
"Are you usually such a prude?" You snapped.
He shook his head, hiding the grin on his lips with a sip from his glass. You were far too drunk to notice. You wondered if maybe you were a mean drunk, suddenly feeling irrationally guilty for talking to your lieutenant that way.
"I'm sorry," You sighed, desperately wanting to lay your head down on the table, bury your face in your arms and hide your embarrassment.
"It's nothin'." He looked amused.
"I'm sure you're not a prude," You said, eyes wide with concern.
"Far from it."
You raised your brows, suddenly intrigued. Sitting up straight, you shifted to face him entirely.
"I've never seen that side of you."
"No reason to."
"I mean," You swallowed the cold beer, setting it down before staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "I could give you a reason."
Your focus was unrelenting as you scanned his face, searching for any hint of an interested expression. He was unreadable- likely due to the liquor in your bloodstream- and it frustrated you. Now, deeply under the influence, you were irritated and aroused.
"Don't think you know what you're sayin'," His eyebrows dipped in, an unimpressed expression in his eyes.
He'd never seen you in your civilian clothes, or with lipstick on. His mouth had gone dry when he first saw you walk into the bar, not surprising given the tightness in his chest anytime you'd brush past him, compliment him, even say his name. It was unavoidable, especially now, watching you lean in, your inhibitions lowered.
He felt his blood run cold, warmth settling in his groin when your eyes lazily flipped over to look at him, your hand under your chin. You had a coy smile on your face, like you didn't know exactly what you did to him, and he'd be a damn liar if he didn't admit it turned him on even more.
"I know exactly what I'm saying." Your eyes narrowed at him, a short huff of amusement leaving your nose.
He wanted to believe it was true; he'd been around enough drunken soldiers to know that whatever was said usually had some truth to it. He just couldn't imagine a woman like yourself wanting to be attached to a person like him. You were too good; too righteous. Too loyal, trusting. Sometimes it drove him crazy, other times he cherished how much faith you put in him.
"Think you've had enough for the night."
He finished his drink, setting it down. He licked his lips.
"Maybe," You nodded.
Your head was fuzzy, and it was hard to see straight. Reasonably, you knew it was time to call it. You'd pay for it in the morning if you didn't.
"C'mon," He said, nodding his head, urging you to step out of the booth. "We'll head back to base."
You didn't fight him. Your hand reached the table for support as you stood up, missing the empty beer bottle by an inch. Ghost grabbed your arm, an innocent touch that your drunken state turned into something more; a premonition.
You turned back to look at him, a coy smile- even drunk, you were a bit embarrassed to be so clumsy in front of your Lieutenant.
Your arm wrapped around Ghost's as you headed out of the bar, discretely feeling the hard bicep that was hidden beneath the black jacket he was wearing. You squeezed gently, hoping he wouldn't feel your groping. He knew, he could feel your fingers moving, the heat of your palm over his arm. He couldn't help but look over at you, an expression of bliss on your face, eyes half shut.
You made small talk, the night air sobering you up a bit as you wandered across the street. The flickering streetlights made him look even more intimidating than usual, casting a shadow over his eyes, his tall form towering over you. You were aware now of just how close you were to him; you were surprised he'd let you hold his arm, but glad he did. You were somewhat afraid you'd wander off and end up sleeping in a ditch, but mostly you liked how warm he was, how good he felt under your hand.
You knew when he walked you inside that it wasn't the direction of your bunk.
"I'm over there," You pointed.
"You're stayin' with me," He said resolutely. "Can't have you chokin' on your own vomit."
You frowned, "Fair point."
As he let you into his quarters, you were overwhelmed with just how much it smelled like him. A bit of vanilla, cedar, cigarettes. It was almost suffocating, seeping into your senses until you were filled only by him. It was intimate, breathing the same air he lived in. He'd allowed you inside, allowed you to see his most personal space. You took a deep breath at the overwhelming revelation.
Your eyes scanned the room, cataloguing the belongings inside. There weren't many personal items; no photographs or books. Hardly any evidence that he lived there. It was barren, aside from the furniture. You knew him, knew he didn't live like you did. He didn't have family back home that waited for him with loving arms and smiles. He had no reason to frame photos of the people he had loved before.
You stood in the centre of the room, still taking in the environment, sobering up even more when he appeared with a T-shirt and water bottle in hand.
"Here," He said, holding them out to you.
"Is that yours?" You asked, looking over the T-shirt.
He nodded.
You were flustered now, the drunkenness having mostly worn off, your demeanour did a one-eighty once you realized where you'd ended up. Your Lieutenant's room, alone. It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of, to confess to every single thing you'd ever thought about him. But you couldn't blame it on being drunk anymore, not when you could feel the embarrassment of what you'd said earlier, and mostly regretted it.
"Thank you."
"Y'can change in there," He nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.
You did, discarding your jacket, shirt and pants. You slid the shirt over your head. It reached the middle of your thighs, a comical look that made you smile at yourself in the mirror. You chugged the water bottle and pulled your hair from your face before leaving the bathroom.
His eyes landed on you, his heart picking in his chest up when he saw you wearing nothing but his shirt. Relaxed, like you were home. It was undeniably arousing. Like you were branded, marked by him. He tried to ignore it, ignore the way your bare feet across his floor sounded so comforting, the way you so willingly wore his clothes, thought nothing of wearing your damn panties around him. He felt something primal clawing at his chest, scratching its way up his throat.
"How you feelin'?" He asked, settling for a nonchalant question, something innocent so you wouldn't suspect he was practically trembling with desire, to touch you- taste you. He took a seat in the chair across the room.
You stepped over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.
"Mostly sober," You breathed out, a small smile on your face. "Sorry, if I said anything out of line."
He nodded; no answer, a nerve-racking response on its own, but his eyes avoided yours. You pushed past the topic, not wanting to dwell on the actions of your drunken self.
"I can sleep on the floor, if you have an extra blanket?" You offered.
He shook his head, "Take the bed. Don't sleep much anyways."
"Why not?" You asked.
"Never have. Too much goin' on in my head."
"Stop thinking for once," You teased.
He inhaled, still slightly distracted by the sight of you, your bare thighs, the shirt inching up as you moved up the bed.
"If only," He replied.
"What keeps you up at night, L.T.?" You asked, a grin of amusement on your face.
You, he wanted to say. You, and your fucking smile. The cadence of your voice, the feeling in his gut he got whenever he felt you next to him, watched you when you weren't looking.
"Paperwork," He teased- though his face showed no evidence of a joke.
You were quiet for a minute, shifting your gaze around the room before returning to his eyes. You smiled, changing the topic again when you concluded he really didn't want to talk about it.
"Thanks for taking care of me tonight."
"You're my responsibility."
Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach; had he felt responsible for you? Had he only let you cling to him out of obligation? Given you his shirt because it was his duty?
"Oh," You nodded. Your voice was weak, but you tried to hide your disappointment behind a small smile. "Always watching out."
"For you, yeah."
Your gaze narrowed. You wondered if you were still drunk, reading too much into his words, putting meaning where there was none. He sat forward in his seat, attentive, unwavering.
You tilted your head, hoping it would give you an alternative angle to follow, a new lead into the words he'd said. With no success, you leaned back on your hands, ready to interrogate him.
"You don't have to do that," You said, prodding for more. Something substantial, something tangible to sink your teeth into. Some ground to stand on so you could tell how he really felt. "Watch out for me all the time. Especially off duty."
"Can't help it," He said. It was quiet, almost unnoticeable except you'd seen his shoulders tense.
"Why?"
He stood to his feet, and your stomach lurched. He was slow, calculating in his steps, moving closer by the second.
"Think you know."
He stopped before you, his gaze so impenetrable you almost couldn't meet his eyes. His fingers reached up, his knuckles skimming the soft surface of your cheek. You shut your eyes, an inadvertent reaction to the rough feel of his fingers. Your skin was flushed, reddened with the rush of blood your heart was pushing to every nerve.
"Because I'm a liability?" You teased, desperately wanting to ease the tension, to appear unaffected by his words, even though your arms had weakened, every bone turning to liquid inside you. You struggled to keep his gaze, to hold yourself up when he was so domineering, standing tall above you.
His eyes honed in on your lips, giving a small shake of his head. "'Cause I've always wanted you."
You inhaled deeply. It stunned you, to say the least. You'd never seen any hint of attraction from him. He was stoic and unreadable, always. But now, he bore his soul to you. Extending an offer that you were too weak to decline. The room stood still, soft exhales and invisible strain sitting in the air.
You finally met his gaze, cheeks tinged red, an exhale of relief. It was a weight off your shoulders, not having to hide anymore. Knowing he felt exactly the same.
"You've always had me, Lieutenant." You stood to your feet, your head barely meeting his shoulder, but you felt powerful, invigorated with a rush of desire.
He hummed, short, acknowledging, satisfied.
His hand moved from the apple of your cheek to the curve of your waist. His hold was strong and warm, comforting, in a way that made you shiver. A twitch in your body made him chuckle, a deep and inviting sound, that offered no relief of the chill running through your spine.
You couldn't count how many times you'd wished he'd touch you. Intentionally or not, you didn't care, you craved it. You craved the sensation, the heavy pour of molten heat that settled in every bone. The ache between your thighs, never satiated by your own hands, leaving your body to the mercy of your mind, begging and pleading for relief by some measure.
"You still drunk?" He asked, quiet and low.
You shook your head, eyes piercing his gaze with ferocity, a never ending commitment. You couldn't be drunk; not with how obvious it was that his hand was on your waist, clinging to you tightly like he'd lose you if he didn't. Your senses were sharper than they'd ever been, especially with him standing before you.
He pulled the fabric of his mask over his head, freeing his face before you. It was a sight to behold, a moment you wanted to seal in your mind and look back on for years to come. You couldn't help your teeth chewing at your lip, biting back the urge to stand on your toes and kiss him, kiss the lips you'd seen a handful of times but never complemented by his other features. He was handsome. Even more than you'd imagined; a composite of Adonis, embodiment of Ares.
He did your bidding for you, leaning over your shorter frame to bring his lips closer to yours. He waited a moment, wanting to be sure you knew exactly what he intended, what he wanted. You grew tired of the torment, and met him halfway.
He groaned; low and harsh. He absolved you of any responsibility, taking over as he tugged you into his chest. He was a towering figure above you, your neck aching as you reached up to meet his mouth. Your hands lifted to his waist, a gentle hold, still apprehensive. You'd never touched him before, never been able to glide your hands across his sides and envelop him in your arms. It felt right.
In response, his palm reached your cheek, fingers splaying out over your jaw. It was a bit rougher, more motivated. He slipped his tongue in your mouth at the same time, his heavy exhales fanning across your face. He was warm, feverish against you, his body entirely consumed with greed.
He tasted sweet, like caramel and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still on his tongue. You hummed softly against his mouth, relishing in the moment; your bodies pressed together, lips connected fervidly, hands exploring the expanse of his torso. Your fingers slid down his abdomen, and he pulled back, still holding onto you.
"Y'look good in my shirt."
A slow, smug smile spread over your lips. "Shame you'll have to take it off me," You whispered.
You stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his again. It was an addictive rush, every time you felt the way he pulled you in, the softness in his lips.
He wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly crawling over you to pin you beneath him on the bed, pure desire between your thighs, flames flickering inside you when his gaze lowered.
You pulled the jacket off his shoulders, hands lifting his T-shirt over his head. Your eyes dropped to his stomach, breathing in the muscles lining his navel, the trail of coarse hair disappearing under his jeans, the marks and scars across his entire torso. Your hands inadvertently reached out, tracing every line and contour, his head falling down at your gentle touch.
You pulled his belt open, before he took his time lifting his T-shirt up off your body, watching with uninterrupted focus, taking in every bare inch he could see until you were left nude before him.
"Fuckin' beautiful," He whispered, his lips beside your ear, moving to leave soft kisses against your neck.
Your jugular pounded in your throat, his silken tongue finding your pulse and biting down softly. You whimpered, pulling yourself closer to him as he scattered kisses over your neck and chest. His hands engulfed your breasts, warmth erupting over your body when he left wet kisses over your nipples, a flat tongue following.
"Yes, please," You exhaled, your back arching into him.
He laid down beside you, a smooth transition when your hand on his chest pushed him back against the pillows. You climbed over his lap while he gripped your hips, staring up at you as you rocked over the bulge in his jeans.
He grunted, quickly yanking his waistband and briefs down. His cock lifted from the restraints, painfully erect, the size a bit intimidating but you'd never given up from a challenge. You leaned forward, sliding your panties aside, helping him to press the tip of his cock against your entrance, before you sat back down.
His cock slowly inched inside, an uncomfortable stretch, but you were already so aroused it quickly dissipated when your hips moved forward. He stretched his neck back, pressing into the pillows; your pussy was drenched, with soft, velvet walls that squeezed around him. He gritted his teeth.
"So big, Lieutenant," You exhaled, a guttural sound as you appreciated just how much he filled you.
"No Lieutenant shite," He groaned. "Simon-" He gulped. "Say my name, love."
You leaned over him, resting your hands against the pillows while his hands slid up to your waist. You craned your neck down to press your lips against his, your pussy gliding up and down his cock while his hands guided you.
It was a haze-inducing sight; your lips wide with pleasure, panting softly every time his cock would massage your walls, graze your clit.
"You feel good, sweetheart," He grumbled against your neck. "Fuckin' hell- that's good."
"Yes- fuck," You watched his eyes, the way he'd furrow his brows in an attempt to digest just how good you felt wrapped around him.
His free hand massaged your breasts, grabbing and palming the soft tissue as you thrust your hips against his.
"God, Simon."
"Been waitin' to hear you say my name like that," He said.
You shivered on his cock, your pussy clenching down with appreciation for his words.
You moved forward, your hips working to grind against him, to push his cock inside you, falling back with heavy exhales.
He couldn't handle the slow pace, couldn't handle the restriction- how he couldn't bury himself inside you. He flipped your bodies over, realigning himself with your pussy before diving back inside.
You groaned, clinging to his shoulders, your thighs immediately wrapping around his waist, trembling.
"Lie back," He grunted, his hips rolling against yours. "Lie back and let me take care of you, love."
Your lips parted, a satisfied moan escaping. Your hands reached his hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he thrust his cock inside you, the sounds of your well-lubricated pussy echoing around the room.
He muffled your moans with his lips, panting heavily after pulling away.
"So deep," You mumbled, "Fuck you're so deep, just like that, please."
"Like hearin' you beg, sweetheart," Another grunt.
His fingers reached down to your clit, rubbing side to side in a way that made your abdomen tense. He felt the clench of your pussy around him, letting out a low gasp against your skin.
"Christ, I dreamt about fuckin' you. Havin' you just like this."
"Simon," You whispered.
His hand gripped your thigh, angling it to penetrate deeper inside you.
"Who's this cunt belong to?" Sweat lined his brow, his fingers still moving in circles on your clit.
"Fuck," You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring just how fucking good it felt, the stimulation was enough to have you writhing beneath him, your body begging for an orgasm. "You, shit- 's all yours."
"That's my girl," He grumbled, plunging his cock inside you with even more speed now, triggering waves of pleasure that engulfed your entire body, had you moaning so loudly he covered your mouth with his hand.
"Fuck," He swore, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure escaping your mouth. "Fuckin' hell. Let it out. I've got you."
You whimpered and whined, his cock driving into you, extending your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back, nostrils flaring as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs and fingers squeezing relentlessly against him.
He had a difficult time holding back; he so badly wanted to hear every single moan and cry that left your lips, but knew the walls were thin. He wouldn't live with himself if anyone found out, if you'd take the brunt of the relentless torment that would surely follow.
He removed his hand when he was sure you'd recovered, so close to his own release he almost didn't have time to tell you. You could read his face, see the expression of pain and pleasure.
"Wherever," You breathed. "Wherever you want."
Your words pushed him past the edge, and his hips stuttered, pressing flush against yours as he released inside you, his cock twitching with every burst.
He sucked in a harsh breath, head tilting up to stare at the ceiling. He thrusted lazily a few more times, before gently falling next to you. A few moments passed, deep breaths and contentment in the air.
"What's in your head now?" You asked, turning on your side.
He nearly smiled, "All clear, sweetheart."
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pardonmysass · 6 months ago
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I think it's disservice to both Brennan and the Intrepid Heroes to already start getting upset over the Rat Grinders. Because the season isn't over, we don't know what's going to happen next. Brennan has never struck me as the type to just allow for callous destruction when there is opportunity for redemption.
Often I remember the end of Neverafter. When everything is resolved and Snow White is practically inconsolable thinking about what might have happened if the plan she took part in had succeeded. What terrible consequences would have happened.
Fantasy High, I should also say, has always had a reputation of punishing the adults more than anyone else. And when it is a kid, it's usually someone like Penelope Everpetal, who was purely evil. In Sophomore Year, we mostly saw Adaine's parents get their comeuppance, which is as it should be. In Freshman Year, it was mostly Kalvaxis and Coach Daybreak. I feel like we're going to see Porter and Jace get the hurt on them for sure. And before anyone starts talking about Oisin and Ivy, remember again that the season isn't over. We know they were killed, but this is a universe with revivify spells in it. It ain't over til it's over.
These may be kids who were manipulated, but they still did horrible things. We don't know what redemption, if any, we're going to see in the finale. But what I do know is that Brennan and the IH are incredible storytellers and they will do what it takes to tell the best story possible within the confines of the actual gameplay.
And I dunno about you, but I am genuinely excited to see how episode 20 plays out!
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midnightwriter21 · 1 year ago
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demon slayer hcs: how you meet pt 2
characters: fem!reader x zenitsu, shinobu, tengen & his wives
warnings: spiders, minor injuries, polyamory
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ZENITSU
he's a sweetheart omg
you guys meet in the forest with the spider demons
you're a slayer
a pretty strong one too. not hashira level but you're working on it
you're weakness?
spiders, bugs, anything creepy and crawly
but isn't that everyones weakness?
idk know how you were convinced to go fight a spider demon
bc personally? ain't no way
but anyways
you get separated from the group of slayers you were working with
so ur alone
when u hear some bushes rustling or som
so u look down and boom
a spider
with a human head
FUCK. THAT.
you take off running and i mean fast
so fast you can't even see where ur going
and bam u run head first
into zenitsu
who coincidently was running from the same thing as u
he realizes ur human, grabs ur hand and TAKES TF OFF
ZOOMMMMM
ur gone
until u meet spider demon w the house
zenitsu passes tf out, ur shitting urself just a little bit, and then
zenitsu handles tf out that demon
while asleep?!
hot af
sleepy zenitsu could get it
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SHINOBU
idk somethin abt her irritates me
she still fine asf tho
shes a top fs
you're a slayer
and you were on an easy mission
prob a low ranked demon
and then shit
a lower moon pulls up
low key fucks u and ur comrades up
somehow yall kill it
and your brought back to the butterfly mansion to be treated
and we all know miss gurl shinobu is running that mf
so shes obv overseeing your recovery
for some reason the other slayers heal faster than you did
wonder why?
perhaps purposely ripping ur stiches to spend more time around a pretty lady?
noooooo you would neverrrr
thats exactly what u were doing
and shinobu knows it too
but she plays dumb cause she thinks its sweet that you admire her enough to delay your recovery and cause urself that pain
she does poke u a lil too hard when redoing ur stitches tho
takes care of u til ur ready to go on another mission
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TENGEN + wives
he's so fine for what
can we make this foursome into a fivesome?
sooo ur not a slayer
ur not a kunoichi
not a fighter at all
just a cute lil civilian
you meet the wives before you meet tengen
you're out shopping
need some new clothes
or maybe you have an event that you need some new jewelry for
gotta look flashy yk
so you finish your shopping and walk out of the store when your knocked flat on ur ass
it was suma
she was running from makio after making her mad
and she ran straight. into. you.
she immediately burst into tears because she felt so bad
makio is yelling at her for knocking you down
and hina is trying to calm them both down
and ur jus like "wtf is goin on"
you feel fine until you stand up
you hit the ground again
ankle = sprained
que the guilty sobbing from suma
the girls carry you to a bench to assess the damage and this grabs tengens attention all they way from the inside of another store
like "who is getting attention from my wives?"
VERY UNFLASHY
jealous af
until he sees u
a cute little civilian women in pain
and his wives fawning over you
he introduces himself and gets the story of what happened
calms suma and makio down
and apologizes on their behalf
meanwhile ur in awe
um hello?? a literal god is standing in front of you apologizing for his wives
WIVES??
AS IN PLURAL? MORE THAN ONE???
he checks ur ankle
his hand wraps around ur entire leg
dudes hands are big af
not the only thing on him thats big
to make it up to you he carries you to a very flashy cafe
where you all sit and have tea and snacks together while you rest ur injured ankle
tengen pays
does this count as a first date??
i love them
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thorias · 5 months ago
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Now that we've had a few weeks for the season finale to sink in and everyone who was ever going to see that mid-credit stinger has seen it, there seems to have been a subtle shift in the actors' moods.
Post-ep5, AJ seemed downright mournful while Lenore was walking on eggshells and kept telling fans to, "Keep the faith because this story ain't over 'til it's over," and whatnot. And both were maintaining the cover story that Remy was D-E-A-D, though Lenore did drop an occasional subtle tease to encourage people to keep watching.
Then after the finale, AJ kind of went radio-silent for a bit and aside from posting a silly reaction gif on his twitter, we didn't hear a peep out of him for a while. Lenore was pretty quiet as well.
Now that the dust has settled, I think the producers have, not taken the handcuffs off, but loosened them a tiny bit. Lenore does an interview with someone who likes Rogneto for whatever reason and she keeps trying to steer the convo back to Romy which she's referring to in the present tense again (idk why I zeroed in on that, but it stood out to me). And AJ is back to being his cheery, jokey self, tweeting stuff like the post above. So he's allowed to say, "I'm Gambit," rather than, "I was Gambit in season 1 before they killed him off."
They're not revealing anything or talking about the stinger directly, (Lenore came close in that interview though lol) but it's nice that they're not acting like Remy is perma-dead anymore either.
Still, I can't imagine we're getting new details anytime soon. Maybe after Deathbit shows up in the next line of action figures lol.
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sunflowervoltwentyeight · 8 months ago
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Happy 28th! Here is my February 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!
Remember Me Fondly by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (73k)
“You’ve told the beginning of the story so many times. I want to hear the end.”Louis laughed, scratching at his chin. “I can’t say I really know when the end happened.”“How about the tour of ninety-five?”“Alright.” Louis took a deep breath. “But it took a few steps to get there. What would you like to know?”Penny cleared her throat.“How did you first meet Harry Styles?” Grunge legends Fearless Doe topped the rock charts in the ‘90s, but they spent the decade kicking Smudge off their heels. From lawsuits to jaw-dropping scandals and a surprising joint world tour, the two bands share a complicated history.
Twenty-five years later, frontmen Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are finally ready to sit down and tell the world their two sides of the same story.
Truth may vary.
I Would Know You From Touch Alone by staybeautiful / @harruandlou (72k)
They had never been face to face before now. They’d never touched, skin to skin, until Harry landed a punch to his face, high on his cheekbone.
Louis shoved him off and was pulling his fist back from Harry’s abdomen before he realized his face wasn’t tingling because of the pain.
It pooled out from his cheek, over his face, down his neck and spine. A shiver in the late September night. Heat, sparks - whatever you wanted to fucking call it.
or The Tomlinson and Cox gangs have hated each other for over forty years. Harry Styles, the grandson of Gritty Cox, was freshly back to the city after uni when, on his first night out, he punched the Tomlinson heir in the face. It shouldn’t have mattered, their gangs have done worse to each other. But all it took was one single touch to recognize your soulmate. Louis was adamant that being soulmates changed nothing, not who they were or which family they were loyal to. Or, at least, it shouldn’t have.
A Yuzu Grows in Brooklyn by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (66k)
Harry is a recent implant in new york and a young chef opening a restaurant called yuzu. louis, a music teacher and broadway lover, has been around the block for a while. in a city that's so fast-paced, they're slow to catch on to each other.
Ferricadooza! by suspendrs / @suspendrs (65k)
Harry can’t even fathom the idea of surrendering; he’d fight ‘til he died, if he had to, anything to keep from surrendering.
Or, the year is 1963, homosexuality is illegal in the UK, Louis owns a gay bar, and Harry’s an underground boxing champion with an unfortunate enemy.
The Recklessness in Water by LarryOn (50k)
Louis Tomlinson is miserable. He's stuck on a family vacation at a lake cabin in New Hampshire when all he wants to do is bemoan his sorry existence and wallow in his sweatpants. As if the humidity and mosquitos weren't bad enough, he becomes the singular target of an obnoxious lifeguard named Harry.
Passing By by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow (48k)
Sometimes, people are in each other's lives just for the briefest of moments. They meet and then go their separate ways because being vulnerable is scary and it might be easier to not let anybody else in. But some people aren’t meant to be just passing by. Maybe when they open their eyes, they can learn things about themselves they haven’t known before. If they let their hearts speak they will find a way to be together.
Or the one where Harry doesn't even know he's into guys until he meets Louis on a boat trip. There's something more to their friendship but it ain't gonna be smooth sailing.
Rivers 'Til i Reach You by embodied (29k)
Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer.   AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).
You Promised Forever by indierection (amandamoraisa) (21k)
[Harry wants a baby. Louis wanted a baby. Now he's not so sure.]
Of course they've always wanted to have kids, even as young as they were in 2012. But it's only ten years later, when they've been married for already three and One Direction is no longer together, that Harry and Louis will finally get to start their own family. Or at least that's what they thought, because Louis suddenly feels the pressure of fatherhood on his shoulders as he realizes he has to be responsible for another human being; and if that's not terrifying he doesn't know what it is. He is, in fact, having these sudden panic attacks when he thinks too much about the future. Yet, Louis just sucks it up because he's losing his mind, but Harry has already to much on his. Besides, in the end they are fireproof. Aren't they?
The Sunshine Stays by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird (15k)
It's three years after One Direction got back together, and Harry and Louis have just come off a world tour. They're enjoying a much more relaxed schedule the second time around, allowing themselves to bask in married life. Until, one day, Louis surprises Harry on vacation, and there are some surprising consequences.
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pikahlua · 3 months ago
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heartbroken we couldn't see toga's last moments, although that's probably by design (just like ochako is heartbroken the world couldnt see it). I'm a little confused by the dialogue though. Is she saying Toga died donating blood to her?
The story ain't over til it's over. But if the story ended as is, that would still leave Himiko's fate up in the air enough for fanfics to run wild with it.
And yes, that is what she's saying. And more than that, how Himiko's quirk had this great ability no one ever took the time to think about whether or not it could do that.
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tellmegoodbye · 3 months ago
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Welcome to week 2 of the Countdown to Season Five Music Mondays! This week's themes are Redemption and Owen & Tommy. If you don't have anything for these themes you can still participate in the tag as normal.
Once again, thank you to @lonestar-s5countdown for setting up this event and these themes.
Today I am sharing a few of my favorite songs from the playlist for my upcoming fic!
For these songs I'm thinking about 4x18 (and s5 👀) Carlos, how he stepped away from his obsession and chose love instead. We know this story isn't over for him, but overall it is a redemption story. It's about him and TK fighting through all of this and coming out of it stronger than ever as husbands.
Overcome - Nothing But Thieves
Bringer of the calm, your arms wrapped around when the fever took Thought I was gone for good, you brought me back
I've been thinkin', babe, maybe you're right When you said the pain weathers in time We're just waitin' for a change to follow We don't always get all that we want Redefine the pain to somethin' more And we shall overcome, as we've done before
Sleep Deprivation - Chance Peña
I've been on a mission I won't stop till I'm done I toss and turn almost every night I pray to God I'm doing right By all my family's wishes Lord knows I miss them Their love outshines the sun
So when I break down I list off the reasons I'm here and I'm still breathing I'm hanging on Try to break ground, make way for tomorrow I'll find a way through the sorrow One day at a time
Promises I Can't Keep - Mike Shinoda
What's the difference between a loss and a forfeit I tried to make it better, but I made it more sick I tried to make it right, now awake at night I know reality was getting in the way
I used to think that I knew who I was Never saw it coming unglued I used to think that I knew who I was Now it's time to see if it's true
I had so much certainty Til that moment I lost control And I've tried but it never was up to me I've got no worse enemy Than the fear of what's still unknown And the time's come to realize there will be Promises I can't keep
I Am Not Who I Was - Chance Peña
You keep me steady on the ground When my head's lost in the clouds That spotlight, though it shines bright Could never drown you out I know it's hard when I'm away I'll just hope you don't lose faith 'Cause I told the truth when I said to you That I'll be back someday
So if I fly too far Will I still have a place inside your heart? And when you've seen what I've become Will you love me for who I am, not who I was?
Back To One - O.A.R
I see you there, but you don't look right You got a ten-mile stare in your eyes tonight Time ain't fair, like it used to be
Don't look back, you'll never find your way There's a million different people Who break the same way When everything has come undone We got to bring it back to one
I know forever always asks so much Don't you let it scare you, don't you lose your touch When your still waters start to run, bring it back to one
Tags!
@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos
@carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @literateowl @paperstorm @guardian-angle22
@whatsintheboxmh @fitzherbertssmolder @mrs-corrections-78 @murdersansy @firstprince-history-huh
@honeybee-taskforce @reyesstrand @butchreyes @freneticfloetry @fangirl-paba
@theghostofashton @alrightbuckaroo @nancys-braids @captain-gillian @tailoredshirt
@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @reeeallygood @eclectic-sassycoweyes
@goldenskykaysani @toomanycupsoftea @messymindofmine @fandomswonderland @reasonandfaithinharmony
@goodways @thisbuildinghasfeelings @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @decafdino @lightningboltreader
+ open tag
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jazeswhbhaven · 2 months ago
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An Unslighty Guy | React | SPOILERS
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So there really much to this part of the story it's literally just these two clowns pranking each other each meeting and I found that c r a z y lmao because???
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Sitri gave this man a blank report
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Amy smashed a pie in Sitri's face the next go around (lmao what is happeningggg)
Sitri starts laughing and everyone is like "oh shit" because I'm willing to bet it's not the genuinely "that silly Amy" laughter it's the "I'm going to fuck him up so bad" laugh
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Ppyong calls it as he sees it lmao they both childish at this point
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Okay so let me observe something.
Ya'll notice how Sitri's pranks are literally like the worst possible thing you could do to inconvenience someone? Like give them blank reports to follow during the meeting, stick your thumb in your fucking food? And then Amy's is literally just little hahaha I smashed your face with pie and gave you dressing instead of a drink. I feel Sitri's are more on the meaner side because that's just how he is or maybe he's really trying to prove something to Amy on how much he just can't stand the man.
Anyways Amy proceeds to eat the pudding to prove a point but then sits close to Sitri to play footsie kick his shins til they're bloody and I'm like SIr how hard you kicking????? holy shit?
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Now this right here I don't blame him for doing that because nah why you kick me so hard I'm bleeding? No chair for you, fam.
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Amy is stubborn asf lmao
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Belial is fucking right because the more they fight...lol
Also...is Jjyu cryin'? He looks sad or scared or something I barely pay attention to the little bab because he's so tiny lmao
So now Gehenna has made it to where these two fighting every five years is literally like a thing to come and watch and take bets I guess or support their fave on who would win.
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I'll have you know Amy, I like black tea but only if it has milk and sugar in it. But I'm also not a girl so nvm lemme mind my business
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Now Sitri...don't sleep on canned coffee. I don't drink coffee but that shit is convenient. Just pop and there you go. Ain't gotta wait for the kettle, the pot, none of that. Though I do love the fresh smell of coffee.
ANYWAYS
They need to leave Ppyong alone like clearly he doesn't want to pick a side, damn.
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i wanna make a comment but i'll refrain lmao sometimes my humor can step on some toes and i'd rather not.
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Astaroth should be my therapist because ain't that the truth.
Anyways, the discussion here is that since Amy and Sitri never fought together on the same level it could be really bad if they do have to defend Gehenna and they won't be able to collaborate or get along on the field and that would cause issues.
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And ofc everyone is worried that it would be dangerous for Gehenna in the long run if those two don't find common ground.
Astaroth has a simple approach about it, to simply just enjoy the chaos and take things as they come. Anything could happen anyway even if there isn't impending doom shadowing over their country.
But with the ending saying that "it" happened...it seems that our goth devil friend here actually manifested something just by even saying it outloud and you know what???
That shit often happens to me too. Like I'll literally be like "damn I hope xxxx doesn't happen" and then it fucking happens.
Well lovelies...let's see what awaits us on day 4!
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago
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It ain't over 'til the Old Crow sings.
This is the concluding story to go along with the Two Ravens at the Writing Desk blog event! Please note, I was not able to respond to all interaction requests, as many were submitted after the period of acceptance and/or disregarded other event rules.)
Does Two of us make a Murder of Crows? … Or an Unkindness of Ravens?
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The Newspaper Club's office was a hub of activity. When its door was cracked open, the smell of fresh paper and ink would greet visitors. The murmurs of concentration and furious keyboard clacking of its members, the organization's calling card.
Raven was fond of it.
She tended to skitter on the outskirts of the club, observing as students drifted in and out, sometimes lugging supplies or equipment with them. Too shy to ask if she could pitch in, too scandalized at the thought of the boys staring at her if she entered.
And so she remained, watching.
Raven peered around her secretive corner. Today, there was a cluster of club members outside the office, caught up in a heated debate. One of them--the leader?--had a thick packet in hand and a frown on his face.
"We can't print this," he was saying, waving the papers around.
"If we don't, he'll be on our asses," protested another member. "Let's just suck it up and send it into the printing press."
"Where's your journalistic integrity, man?!" a third demanded.
"We've put out crappier stuff before," a fourth shrugged. "Remember that article about the seven greatest unsolved mysteries on NRC campus? As if most of us don't already know."
"It's not the same thing," the leader shot back. "That was one piece. This is an entire issue. You really want to flush down our rep?!"
Oh dear, it looks like they've run into some sort of trouble. I wonder what's wrong...? Raven leaned a little closer, cupping an ear.
"What are we going to do" The club leader worriedly paced around. "We don't have much time before the deadline comes up on us... Oh, hmm?"
He cocked his head, noticing a flicker of movement around the corner. "Is that...?"
Raven startled. I've been spotted!
"Excuse me!" To her horror, the club leader approached and called out to her. "You are... the headmaster's something-or-other, right? Someone who can speak to him on our behalf."
"Er, yes. I-I suppose that's true." She tried to control her nerves by smoothing out her skirt, but found herself anxiously wringing the hem of it.
"Great! See, the headmaster proposed running a special edition in the campuswide newspaper. In honor of NRC's founding month, he said," the club leader explained. "Front to back, the whole works. The only problem is... well, see for yourself."
He offered his packet. It was about the width of a modest novel and bulged with additional sticky notes and photographs shoved inside of the stack.
One glimpse at the cover page, and Raven instantly understood what was happening.
Oh, Uncle. You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?
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"You wanted the school newspaper to have a Crowley-themed edition for March... Have you gone mad?!"
"I thought it would be an earnest and approachable way for the student body to get to know their headmaster," Crowley faintly defended himself. "And you did tell me to pen some writing by my own hand. Does it not make sense to publish those works in a publicly accessible source?"
Raven held her head in her hands. A migraine was coming on, steady but piercing.
"Please do not impose your agenda on a student-run organization. It is meant to be a forum that promotes freedom of expression, not for personal vanity projects!!
"There are other avenues you could use for publications if you want an 'earnest and approachable' image. For example..." She produced her phone, pulling up Magicam via an app. Personal blogs, social media accounts... There are many other places.
"Oh." Crowley cupped his chin. "I was not aware."
"Many students are on Magicam, so if you want to be relatable this may be a good starting point. Perhaps it's not the best for posting written works, but surely you could take pictures of your daily activities and briefly caption them."
"Well, why didn't you say so sooner? Nothing could be simpler, my dear niece!" The headmaster beamed, displaying his pointed, pearly canines.
“I wish you’d explored these options first,” she sighed. “Then we could have avoided this almost-disaster altogether.”
Her guardian was already preoccupied with his own phone now. Typing in information, fishing up the most photogenic pictures from his album to slap on. A few minutes into setting up his account, Crowley paused. He eyed his child the same way a hawk might eye a scurrying field mouse.
“… What is it now?” Raven asked, dreading the worst.
“Oh, I was just thinking about what my first post should be. Something that says a lot about me and where my values lie. I know exactly what to use: a family photo!"
She raised a brow.
Crowley shoved the rejected proposal packet back into his niece's hands. He then shuffled next to her, holding his phone out--the camera, flipped--and made a peace sign with the other.
A bolt of panicked realization raced through her. "Uncle... you don't mean--"
"Fufufu. Say 'cheese', Raven-kun!"
CLICK!
The headmaster's first post would go up around midnight. Under the picture of a jovial crow and a befuddled raven was a very telling statement.
So glad to have such bright young minds steering the way to the future~ Proud to be the headmaster of NRC 🐦‍⬛
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missmarveledsblog · 29 days ago
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Joel's girl ? ( Tommy miller x reader )
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summary : when joel shows up in jackson with a teenager and a young woman , tommy finds himself instantly drawn to the woman and yet he start feeling guilty wanting his brothers girl , but he start hating his feeling grow and his brother joel going for women in jackson til he finds out how wrong he is .
warnings: jumping to conclusion , mutual pining , doesn't follow any story line of game or show , mentions of cheating but not really , some violence and fluffy stuff tommy being a cutie .
Maybe it was a trick of the mind , something conjured up over years of guilt and yet in the same time it was real , he was really standing in the safe haven of jackson with two girls at his side  but it was really joel not just a figment of his guilt . There stood his big brother  , his flesh and blood  between hugs and hellos  he finally took in the girl and woman at his brother's side. The girl, Ellie, was  smiling but The woman y/n she was constantly watching like she was on guard , he didn’t blame her hell he was the same when he first arrived .  She stood close making sure she was near both of their trio at all times watching people walking by keeping her arm around the young girl as she rolled her eyes and told the woman to relax . if tommy was to guess well he would of put her mid to late twenties although it was hard to tell given the world falling to shit and no one got to be their ages  , very few place like jackson to do that sort of thing so he could only imagine what they had seen or had to do .   
“ We got place for  you guy just up here can get cleaned up hot water and all to have a shower  , clothes too if you need em “ he explained walking the trio through the town  all looking around.  “ now we can get you jobs later after your settle  even schooling for little miss with other kids her age  .. i take it y’all together” he asked what he meant and what they picked up was different when joel said yeah . what tommy meant was two adult as a couple but they thought like just a group in general .  he was surprised to say the least , she was a pretty even go as far as to say she was beautiful young woman but he was being respectful to whom he thought was his brother's partner. 
It was almost cute the way her eyes lit up walking into the house and supplies that were brought to them ,   he had stop himself from staring  a couple of times even got caught by ellie who just smirked and went on her on adventure throughout the house   and now he was sitting with the two females that came with his brother letting joel shower first so he could catch up with his brother . the tension thick as she sat almost pulling him apart with her eyes . 
“ she doesn’t do well with new people” ellie spoke up noticing the way he tried look anywhere else . 
“ it’s fine really understandable” he nodded. 
“ she’s harmless really .. well sort of .. not really … this seem like nice place though “ ellie mused. 
“ thanks it’s community that makes it that way we all pull our weight and help each other really “ he smiled. 
He watched As She stood placing her bag on table taking  the things out only for him to see a knife it was Beautiful . 
“ hunting Knife ? “ he asked softly yet she tensed. 
“ my daddys i ain't getting rid of it “ she was cold and almost Warning . 
“ i wouldn't  either may i have a look at it , you can hold my pistol” he held out As she hesitantly nodded taking it from his hand. 
“Hey that what joel did to Look At it too “ellie snorted . 
“ yeah its beautiful Huh” joel gruffed out walking in fresh clothes On hid back probably cleanest hes felt in a good while . 
“  stunning piece” tommy eyes went over the blade  before he put it back down and she handed him the pistol back. 
“ ellie go” she said pulling book out Of her bag as the teen gave Her  goodbyes before heading up the stairs . “ this fire ok to light , so she not cold” she finally spoke up a little louder and a little softer .  
“ um yeah some wood out in the hall  there let me help while he’s getting ready” tommy  already Walking To the hall and putting the wood In fire place  as she stood at a distant Before she pulled out a lighter Another heirloom From her father things she made sure her own brother didn't get . 
she sat With  on chair the tattered book in hand looking like a picture perfect when tommy Stood  the light of fire slowly starting to glow Against Her features . 
“ i'm ready .. i might be early i might be late i don't you ok here with ellie “ he asked almost gentle  tommy Noticed almost straight away as she looked up and nodded . 
“ alright i'll see you”  he headed straight to the door . 
“ nice meeting You y/n “ tommy walked Out .
“ yeah you too” she called and yet her head never Looking up from the pages she seemed so lost in . He felt a little tug and he walked out door. 
“ ya Aint changed” was all joel said walking Out shake on his head, smile on his lips .  
She was half way through the book when Ellie emerged bug smile on her face and hair still damp making y/n happier with the fire . 
“ wait til you try that shower” she sighed Happily . 
 “ yeah i aint ever Seen you so relaxed” she chuckled Standing stretching out . “ no opening door when im up there unless it joel” she added.
“ what if its his Brother to come stare at your pretty face more” ellie teased .
“ he aint Staring at me probably thinking I look like a feral rat “ she rolled her eyes walking up the stair though she could hear the young girl laughing . 
“ cutest feral Rat hes ever seen” was all she heard as she Opened The door looking around the bathroom she place her clothes so they wouldn't be wet And turned The water a small smile when she felt it warming up . Stepping in she felt her tired muscle almost melting under The steamy stream. The way the soap Felt on her body and the suds , dirt And grime wash off her body . The way she was able To wash her hair properly was something she took Full advantage of too before she gotten out not Wanting To leave ellie  alone too long  in such a new place . She didn't trust it but She wanted to , she wanted a place she didnt have to worry all time. A place ellie Could be her age something y/n never had  even though her father tried his hardest but he also spent his time teaching them to survive , her and her brother shown same way of life And yet he went cold , heartless and greedy. So easily to get rid of her and luckily It was frank and bill . Her brother wanted weapon few Supplies They gave him It and  but they saw how skinny she was  so well she was part of bargaining tool . then they asked joel to take her knowing  it  was their end . She was with them for Years before she left almost pleading not to go, then crying when she looked into their eyes knowing  it was last time first people to be kind after what felt so long since her father died and then she was traveling with joel and ellie  not wanting to lose anymore She tried Not getting attach then ellie wormed her way in then she went withdrawn to protective.   Her damp hair  towel Dried as she grabbed all their towel or rags hung them up let them dry she would wash the clothes later when Ellie was asleep let the girl rest . 
She walked down the stairs seeing ellie looking through The book she was reading  A tattered up version of little women her mother Used to read to her . 
“ can you read it to me” ellie Asked  almost like she sensed Her coming .
“ course i can “ she smiled softly sitting with the young girl  taking book in her hand and opening the first page one She didn't Need to even Look at to know the next sentence  written on the pages before her. 
Still surreal looking at his brother right in front of him . Yet Still felt Like weird dream watching  him take The Glass from his hand. 
“ still cant believe your here and not alone either when that happen “ tommy took his seat  . 
“ its just well happened their good  kids , annoying but good got own shit i suppose” he shrugged not knowing to even begin to explain never thought any of it would happen and yet it was .  But as much as he wouldn’t  say out loud he did care  about them both , y/n the skeletons In her closet rivaled his own at such a young age too . She was scrapper too watched her take down men  bigger than herself when they tried anything , hell she saved his ass couple of times . 
“  she always like that ?” . 
“ y/n   she guarded more  but once she warms up to ya shes a sweet heart With a heart of gold plus no fuss with work she know how to hunt and shit  but  i will say she great at medical shit , her daddy taught her all her life til he died she was  fourteen Then she spent time with her brother from what i was told he was a cold bastard probably why she can Be dangerous if you cross her or who she cares for “ joel nodded . 
“ she dont look dangerous but it usually Is the quiet ones” tommy shook his head .
 “ yeah i didn't Think so too til one night raiders came she cut one of their throats before they even knew she was in the room  then checked over ellie like Nothing happened  and ellie man she got a mouth on her but she good kid”  he smiled . 
“ ya really doing this huh?” tommy Smiled softly as two drank and caught sharing tales of their time apart all the good , the bad and the ugly and even Reminiscing  the past and those they had lost .  wasn't  Long the bottle was empty and joel was starting to feel the effects of the amber liquid he so dearly missed . 
“ lets get you home to your girls huh? “ tommy chuckled bit steady On his own feet  as the brother wobbled out the door . 
She was out cold on the worn down sofa  book in her lap When  the sound of door open she shot Up grabbing the knife Only to see the two men stumbling in the door trying to  not laugh honestly  like Two tennagers after sneaking out . 
 “ hey we wake you darling” joel chuckled . 
“ you Drunk .. oh my god you Both are “ her eyes Widened. 
“ we are not sweetheart … ok Maybe a little” Tommy cackled as his Brother followed. 
“ ellies just  got to sleep ,  go to bed “ she rolled her eyes as tommy led his brother up the stairs while she grabbed a glass of water following After leaving one on counter . 
She  walked In leaving glass ignoring joel mumbling admiration As she headed Down the stair. Little after she heard the younger miller Coming when she looked up just as he was standing there .
“ glass Of water on counter” she mused as he head straight In . 
“thanks sweetheart i'll be on my way soon “ he smiled sitting beside her almost bashful smile on his face almost instantly scolding himself this was his brothers girl and here he was no short of a  having hearts in his eyes .   he literally only got his brother back he needed to stop  and yet he couldn’t .  
“ i can let myself out so you can go bed “ he smiled lazily . 
“ i’ll sleep here tonight “ she  replied easily . 
“ so you can see the doors both and windows ? , i did that my first night here too really i know its hard to believe but y’all are safe here” his head fell back tired eyes starting to close maybe he was more drunk that he was letting on .
“ maybe you should go up and sleep next to your brother “ she took his closing eyes but he shook his head  mumbling a  “ i’m fine” .  “ stubborn as your brother , come on “ she huffed pulling him and yet instantly he was going like he was following this woman from his brothers words take him out only for him to fall back on the chair pulling her with him make her yelp at the sudden movement. 
“ hey sweetheart “ he smiled up , 
“ go sleep guess i’ll go upstair after all “ she huffed getting up throwing the  blanket she carried with her as he snuggled in even she couldn’t help crack a smile before she left hearing a sleepy goodnight before the snores rang out . she climb in beside ellie and fell sleep herself . 
It was torture month of watching her walking around town and  it was almost like his own personal hell almost three months since  joel arrived  with the quiet and yet beautiful woman at his side .  first she was same guards then after two months she began loosening up .  she began talking to people passing. One moment he never would forget was when she was heading to the clinic and kids in town spotted her charging her way like herd of bulls in a china shop and she crouched down the smile on her face it nearly made him fall flat on his face with how his knee almost buckled . she  was really beautiful  even that first night she was wearing the clothes some sweats and loose shirt and yet all he could think about was when she fell on him . the way her eye went wide and round and the squeak she let out or the blanket she put on him just smelt of her . never in his life was he down this bad and for his brothers girl no less.  She worked in the clinic helping the doc who honestly was impressed with what she knew and if it was  back when life was normal she would of made a perfect med student . she also went out hunting too and Tommy saw first hand how good she was there . yet he was starting to get pissed with his brother , every time joel was in the tipsy bison he would go home with some woman. Hell, the day he arrived he caught their attention .  some night he would even chat with them with y/n there  , Tommy couldn’t understand how he did it , how he could even think of another when he had perfection already .  she sat at joel side tonight both sitting at the bar as she was talking about some new books she read  ones tommy found and delivered to the door .  he’d leave them on the stoop with a note and her name on it and leave  because he knew she loved it  how big her smile was when she talked about the new story she was getting lost in . Joel's eyes were flickering down to one of his now regulars and he couldn’t help glare at his brother .  he didn’t realize it came out of his mouth , the scoff so loud that  had his big brother looking up at him  brows furrowed , confused as hell . 
“ hey i gotta use the little girls room and when i come back i will come behind there help you out i heard it’s gonna be busy tonight” she walked  off before tommy could even protest not much that would do given she never listened . 
“ whats yer problem  and well those looks i should be six feet under” . 
“ your girl is trying to get your attention your given to one of your fuck buddies “ he hissed. 
“ my girl … y/n we’re talking about when hell is she my girl ?” joel chuckled. “ she young enough to be my daughter tommy , i care and love her but like a friend .. shit is that why you ain’t made move on her i was really going to start asking about that”. 
“ wait she not your girl . like y’all ain’t even fucking?” he asked mouth almost hitting the floor . 
“ no  we ain’t fucking one she rarely sleeps beside me and whenshe does it’s nothing  most time she sleeps beside ellie or sofa , now you  gonna give me a drink and with smile this time” joel asked. “ thank you now i’ll leave you to it … but you hurt her little brother or not i’ll kick your ass” was all joel said before heading off to the woman that did have his attention just as she was walking to  walking  a smile when she seen joel and the woman and rolling her eyes . 
“ bout time “  she said heading before letting herself behind the bar . 
“ you shouldn’t be behind here sweetheart” 
“ you aint stopped me yet so shup and take the free help while it’s going”  she began making her way down the bar tending to the incoming patrons as well joel and his friend made their way out waving back . 
“ ellie so lost the bet” she laughed walking past grabbing drinks . 
“ hey we miller got charm “ tommy shrugged. 
“  oh really i ain’t seen an ounce of charm from you both “  she move effortlessly around and sure enough he was sort of grateful for the help as seem everyone adult in town spilling in the door .  he watched  she smiled and handed drinks out  or wiped up the spilled ones. Both working in tandem through the night , he also watched as men tried their luck , hoping to be the one to sweep her off her feet but she give them a polite smile and shake of her head.  Some took it with grace , some a bit miffed but got over it and well one didn’t take it at all every time she passed he would ask and she would say no   then when bringing drinks to the more elderly patrons  well the same man took in upon himself to try pull her on to his lap and instantly  tommy was pulling her behind him . 
“ i catch your hands on her one more time where they aint wanted well me and you gonna have a problem” he growled . 
“ what’s it you , what you and your brother sharing her  sure one more won’t hurt man share her with the rest of …” was all he got out of his mouth before he was out on his back and she was standing with her hand  pulled back walking off.
“ i guess that tells you what you want to know” tommy mumbled not expecting her to knock the man on his ass again til turns seeing her standing behind the bar putting ice in a rag and then on her knuckles.  “ she ain’t fucking joel” he added before heading to the bar. 
“ sorry no punching customers but i don't work here really so “ she winced putting the ice on her hand once more. “ it ain’t broken i can move it but it is probably sprained or bruised “ she shrugged .
“ yeah ok rocky you can sit rest of the hour out” he chuckled handing her a drink and moving her to sit down .  “ i got it but you can keep me company and i’ll walk you home “ he added. So she did telling him of the latest tale she was reading like he didn’t hear her tell joel earlier that night but this time he add his two cents and  nearly ignored his customers to just be lost in the orbit she was pulling him to .  then when place clearing out she was wiping down tables with her non injured hand when he tried taking it off her well she just moved to the next table making him follow almost a playful smile on both face til he was chasing her around the bar trying to take the cloth from her hand .  catching up instantly scooping her up in his arms he placed her on the bar  as she held the rag up over her head both panting staring into each other eyes . 
“ you gonna give me it now “ he asked eye darting to her lips and  her plush lips she was now biting . 
“ what you gonna do if i don’t” she smirked trying  to keep her own eyes on his and yet she leaned in closer almost wanting him to make the first move  one she waiting on  for what felt like forever.  “ fuck it”  was all she said dropping the rag beside her , leaning in closer her lips hitting his instantly his hand was in her hair , hell he may of took his time but he wasn’t wasting it now .  it was better then he imagined and he imagined it so many time probably an insane amount of time except back then he felt guilty when he thought she was his brothers girl now he was definitely going to make sure she was his . pulling back both breathless as they  pressed their foreheads together eyes lock and shared dopey grins . 
“ i never did say thank you for all those books “ she said breathless  . 
“ how you know ?” .
“ i  wait caught you one day doc sent me home early heard you almost fall on your ass “ she giggled.  “So what you say we get out of here and i’ll thank you properly” she winked only to have him lifting her up and throwing her over his shoulder  locking up easily and swat to her back side  as he stroll down the streets of jackson not caring who could see hell let them see she was his . 
“ bout time , take care of my girl asshole  “ was all they heard seeing a flushed and happy head of joel heading back  . 
“ oh she ain’t yours brother , this ones mine” tommy yelled back as she burst out laughing . 
“ since when “ she asked honestly taking the advantage of staring at his ass . 
“ since the first time we met darling “ moved her so she was in front  carrying her bridal style only stopping to either kiss his girl . 
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morihaus · 3 months ago
Text
Breath
"I thought it would make for a good story!"
A son of Skyrim sits on a log far, far away from the snowy shores of his birth. Beside him sit two fellow warriors, one from this land of dragons in the East, and the other from a land of swords even further East than that. When Njorri bellows out his explanation, the Yokudan cracks a small smile, while the Tsaesci's eyes bore into him.
"It's a lovely fine country you have here. It's hot! But not as hot as Morrowind, so it suits me more! And I ain't got any ash in my beard, like my cousin Holf is always complaining about."
"That's why you're interfering with our sacred hunt?" Siek-Shirue asks, eyes sharp like her tongue.
Njorri laughs and waves a massive hand. "Oh, nooo, I wouldn't say 'interfere!' I'm fit to help you! My da use to hunt dragons all the time."
A laugh bubbles up from Ensaf, the third who has merely played the spectator up til now. "Quite the name to live up to."
"Ain't nothin' special. Not like traveling all this way out East-- across that cursed ocean no less!"
The armored Akaviri turns to Ensaf now. "And why are you here?"
The trained fighter can recognize an itchiness about her 'host's sword-arm, the way her hand sits on her opposite thigh, inches from her scabbard; she knows that, even without any apparent weapon, Ensaf could produce one out of thin-air with only a breath.
"Me? Well, I'm looking for a story of my own." She adjusts herself on the log, easing up on her posture to try and relax the other woman. "You see, in the land where I come from, just about every swordsman's done something incredible. There's nothing left to make a name for yourself. But here... I can do something no one else has. At least no one from Yokuda." Leaning back, she tears her eyes away from her host and looks up at the clear skies of the steppe where the day is giving way to nightfall. "I'd heard rumors from sailors about an island full of dragons to the West... wasn't sure they were true until today."
"You've got no dragons back home?" Njorri asks, leaning over Siek to do so.
Ensaf shakes her head. "Afraid not. Plenty of serpents, but none that fly through the air like that... I would've picked a better opening if I had realized how fast they move."
"No dragons??? Skyrim used to be lousy with dragons, and so did this place, I hear, before Sek here and her pals--"
At this junction, Siek shoves the tall Nord back with a sudden burst of force, barking out a single syllable as the thrust of her hand sends him spilling across the grass of the camp. "Siek." She affirms, curling her lip up at the boisterous foreigner. Her fellow blades look over at the commotion, hands at their swords before she waves them off, assuring them things hadn't broken down... at least not yet.
Ensaf narrows her eyes in the split second it takes place, perking an ear and trying to tune in. As Njorri's dusting himself off, she leans forward again and looks to the Tsaesci. "That was the same technique you used to disarm my Shehai, wasn't it?"
Siek turns to face her, but defensive walls are clearly still up. After a moment of eyeing her up, she replies. "Yes. The Kiai is the greatest power we wield as Tsaesci."
"It's a lot like the Thu'um!" Njorri remarks, unbothered as he returns to his seat.
Siek whips her head around to him, riled up by that notion. "NO, it is not!
"You shout, things happen, sounds like Thu'um to me."
"You are a moron and an interloper! Your know nothing of what you say!"
Ensaf interjects. "Care to explain what it is then?"
"Ooh, please! I'd love to hear a story from a Tsaesci!" Njorri enthusiastically chimes in, the two warriors looking to their interrogator with inquisitive eyes.
She stops and takes a breath to center herself, finding it important to tell this story right, even if it's only for the benefit of two strangers who meddled with their hunt.
"Long ago... these lands were ruled by dragons. Our ancestors worshiped them as gods, fearful of their power, but in truth, their power came from the spirits of the world itself. Our arbitrary masters had stolen it with their domineering language. Our Mother, Tserida-Shak, learnt this from the Teacher, Boesha, who taught her the path of Tsaescence and the secret language of creation. Using the world's alphabet, Tserida-Shak spoke the first Kiai into the world, using it to kill the word in the dragon's throat. With our new martial art, we began our hunt to destroy all dragonkind and our duty to defend creation."
Njorri and Ensaf listen intently, poring over the words of this legend.
Predictably, the affable Nord replies first. "Not a bad story, but, it's a little tired, ain't it?"
"What?" Siek asks, disgusted.
Njorri waves his hands to and fro as he talks. "Men ruled by dragons, someone teaches them how to fight back, they do-- I mean, we Nords for example, we learned it from Paarthurnax, since Kyne told him so--"
"'Paarthurnax?'" Siek grows suddenly inquisitively, as well as revolted. "A dragon??? You were taught by a dragon???"
"Well, sure! How else do ya expect a man to learn dragon’s talk?"
Siek suddenly regards Njorri with an odd mixture of pity and loathing, wondering whether his people were still living under a different sort of tyranny, or if they were all-too willing servants who traded their dignity and humanity for power over other mortals.
Ensaf cuts through the tension. "It's actually not too different from how we learned sword-singing..." She offers, successfully distracting Siek from her disgust. With both of the other warriors looking at her, she elaborates. "Our people have always had many enemies, without and within, and many gods of the sword took pity on us. Onsi taught us how to make them, but it was Leki who sang us the secrets of mastery. She made the sword our soul. From there, we learned to make our souls to swords."
The Yokudan stretches out her open hand and begins to speak, or sing, her own language, belting out a few syncopated notes. A bright glow emanates from her whole body before beginning to coalesce, traveling down her arm and taking shape in her hand. With a flash, she now holds a long, curved sword that seems to shimmer like the surface of a pond. Even as Ensaf stops singing, Njorri and Siek can still hear the blade humming the tune.
"That's..." Siek begins, her voice fallen to a hush.
"Shor's Bones! You're doin' that all on your own???" Njorri interjects, leaning in closer to inspect the weapon. "That right there's some clever craft if I've ever seen it! Never thought of usin' the Thu'um for somethin' like that!"
Ensaf laughs, taking the Nord much more lightly. "I'm not sure it's all too similar to what you two do with your voices... I'm not communing with any spirits. Put simply, this is all me." She takes a moment to admire her Shehai, a great point of pride for her as a Sword Saint. Even if the battles she's won or the quests she's gone on pale in comparison to many of her illustrious peers, this sword still stands as her one grand accomplishment, totally unique to herself.
"You're right..." Siek is still quite amazed at the display. "We use our own spirits in the Kiai as well, but we don't... at least, I have never heard of a Blade who could call upon such a well of power from within." She manages to tear her eyes away from the still-singing sword and look Ensaf in the eye. "That aerial slash of yours-- I thought Ilni's winds had carried it for you, yet it was this 'Shehai' of yours?"
Ensaf nods. "Though now that you mention it, I suppose I could've used some help in landing it. Maybe next time I'll ask them." She offers Siek a smile along with this well-meaning jest. In all honesty, the woman's story had piqued her curiosity. It could be interesting to bring a few of her tricks back to Yokuda with her.
Njorri loudly concurs with Siek's observation. "I've heard rumors-- tall tales and all that, not so trustworthy as they are entertaining-- that some Tongues can use the Thu'um to change themselves, the way we can change the Qethsegolle by arguin' with 'em."
"Arguing?" Siek interjects, glancing back at Njorri as he once more leads her to question his morals.
"Aye, arguin'. Y'see, we Nords can't go about it exactly like dragons. With dragons, they just shout so great and loud that the Qethsegolle go 'alright, alright!' and do whatever it is they want. Blast this mountain over there, blow these clouds away, set that man on fire-- that sorta thing." The way he describes the interaction so simply, like a children's game, rubs her entirely the wrong way. Whether Njorri is blissfully ignorant of this or simply affords fellow men the same irreverence as he does the spirits, she does not know, but he continues speaking nonetheless. "We men ain't as loud as dragons by nature, so we've got to be a little more subtle, eh? Persuade the spirits! It's all about spinning the right words with the right tones, making this-do-that or you-go-here or whatever it is you're tryin' for! The Qethsegolle aren't a prickly sort-- 'least most of 'em aren't. They're busy keepin' the house Shor built standin' upright, so they're distracted most of the time. It's easy to slip things by 'em if you say 'em right."
It sounds like just another deceit to Siek, but Njorri, of course, views it all in good fun.
He turns back to Ensaf and guffaws. "Guess your sword-singin' cuts out the middle man, eh?" The Nord bellows out a laugh.
Ensaf joins him, but she also notices Siek still hasn't quite come around to the two strangers just yet, fascinated as she may be by her Shehai. If they were going to have any chance of sticking around and seeing this hunt through, they'd need to find some more common ground.
Her spirit sword still singing, Ensaf looks up at the stars above them. "We have a lot in common... but there's an old saying in Yokuda: 'you can't see the view from atop his feet.'" She gracefully turns the point of her blade down to the ground, resting it against the earth. "No two people can really, truly see the same thing the same way. Right now, we can't see the same stars, because I can't sit where you're sitting. I don't know anything about dragons or earthly spirits because we couldn't be farther apart when we were all children. We could spin yarns all night and we'd still be no closer to understanding it all."
Njorri easily accepts this treatise on subjectivity given his cultural proclivity towards tale-telling, though Siek waits to hear where the Yokudan is going with this.
"But different as we may be, I've always seen two things that all us folk have in common." Ensaf smiles. "We breathe, and we sing."
"Sing?" Siek raises a brow.
"Oh yes! We Nords love to sing! I s'pose I should've guessed Yokudans do, given the sword and all!" Njorri cranes his neck down to look at their captor. "What of you, Siek? Do the Tsaesci sing?"
"Well of course." She replies almost defensively. "But I don't see why that--"
"Go on, share a song with us." Ensaf urges. "All this talk of your great hunts and dragon-slaying, you must have some raucous ballads."
At the continued insistence of these two interlopers, Siek-Shirue relents. She begins to regale them, softly at first, with some anthems of war, rhythmic lyrics that sing to the glories of Tsae and the noble cause of the Tsaesci. Njorri begins to slap his knee to the beat, while Ensaf nods her head and taps her foot. The two even start to pick up some of the words.
Their impromptu and largely unintentional revelry does not escape the attention of the rest of Siek's unit, who become easily gripped by the infectious songs of their people. Before Siek knows what's happened to her, she's leading her whole company plus two foreigners in the devotional ballads of Boesha 1-13.
It's only natural that a Tongue and a Sword-Singer would take to song so easily, learning more, perhaps, from the joint fervor of this merry ritual than they ever could have through idle conversation. As the night wears on and tensions subside, they even share some of the songs of Skyrim and Yokuda with their new fellows, and just as they had learned, now the Tsaesci learn of their new companions through the most expedient method: their breath, and their songs.
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magicalgirlagency · 8 months ago
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IMPORTANT NOTICE!! PLEASE READ!!
[TW: Mentions of suicide and self-harm]
Okay, reguarding those last posts that I have erased, I just came to the conclusion that I really DO NOT want to die. Turns out that the thought of suicide and self-harm scares me more than anything.
I was just scared and very very depressed; I really don't wanna lose the things that I love (online friends, this blog and the other ones as well, my hobbies, my experiences, my education, and the freedom to share stuff with them, and so on), and just the thought of KOSA screwing everyone over irreversibly is frightening to me.
I panicked. I just didn't knew how to react to the news, to the possibility of losing my primary support network of friends to a bunch of computer-illiterate old geezers who think gays are icky-vicky. The powerlessness just got to me, albeit briefly.
As someone who isn't american, I feel extremely upset at the fact that I can't take any direct action to battle against these draconian rules.
I want to sincerely and profusely apologize to all of my followers and mutuals for giving them such a fright and for worrying them sick for the past hours. I promise I won't do anything harsh or stupid to myself, and I am really, really moved at the wave of genuinely concerned people who came to me.
I won't kill myself. I promise you all that I will keep on living.
Just promise me that you all will keep on sharing the KOSA links from the previous posts to spread awareness to others and keep on pestering your senators with your phone calls and letters; it ain't over 'til it's over.
And also, I would like to tell that I want any posts made in my name reguarding my suicidal episodes to be edited or erased. I don't want any more people coming on my DMs worried about my well-being. I promise I won't do anything crazy, and this blog will resume its regular activities as normal.
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women-of-malevolent · 2 months ago
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I genuinely don’t mean this from a place of malice, and do think the podcast both has a history of handling its women characters poorly and would like if it were better in that aspect. But I don’t understand the specific criticism of the work having a running theme of “male characters uncritically sacrificing their daughters.” (Key word uncritically.)
The titular Bella episode directly forces Arthur to confront the idea that him and Larson are similar, that the callousness they showed to their loved ones is intentionally paralleled. I don’t think it’s something the story is unaware of, and I’d hesitate to argue that Arthur (or Daniel, later) is presented as being in the definitive right. (In this regard.)
I don’t think you have to love the prevalence of the concept in the narrative, but I do think some of your critique feels like you’re taking the worst interpretation you could from the story and arguing that because the characters themselves don’t actively stop the plot to condemn it (and honestly, they do sometimes) it means the actions are presented as wholly value neutral. Some of your analysis feels like you’re starting from a conclusion and working your way back.
I want to reiterate: I really enjoy most of your critiques, and it’s refreshing to have someone in the fandom both document female presence in the podcast and speak candidly about its flaws. I’d honestly love to know if/why you disagree, either with regards to intentionality or necessity of inclusion.
Hello! Thanks for writing in!
I'm not sure which post you're referencing where I said the daughter-sacrifice theme was uncritically portrayed? Because I don't think it is. The story portrays daughter-sacrifice as varying shades of terrible, graded according to intent. These less-than-ideal men keep hurting the women they should have protected.
My problem with the daughter-sacrifice theme is the same as my problem the rest of the show: it's exclusively about men. Daughters aren't people, they're glass sculptures for men to carry for 18 years, and what those men do with that piece of glass in that time tells you about the character of that man.
Who are Addison, Faroe, Emily, Samantha, Murdered Daughter Of A Senator, fuck even Sarah, if you take away the men who hurt them? Looking at just the text of Malevolent, none of the liveplay games lore or headcanons etc, there's little to nothing to these girls.
You're not invited to spend time inhabiting any woman's life like you are with Arthur (or John, to a significantly lesser extent). You can, and I do, but it feels like reading against the text because their lives are boring, horrible, difficult to parse, and they usually end in childbirth or femicide. It's fucking miserable!
The men are trapped in the same bleak, violent story, and a lot of them die graphically and onscreen, but most of them also get some combo of moments of triumph, personalities, voices, independence, quirks that narratively make that violence go down smoother. (Also smoother because there are so many fun and fascinating male characters)
Also, honestly, I don't enjoy how the theme is explored. It feels shallow and lame to me. I personally, as a listener, don't feel like this specific story has ~earned~ (in my personal, idiosyncratic, things-I-like-in-fiction, subjective assessment) exploring the horror of femicide when 1) there are zero normal, living female characters (Marie is very close, but no cigar); 2) all it seems to really say is basically… murder is bad (sometimes) (usually?) (sometimes, at least), and it's extra bad when men kill their dependent women?
Standard disclaimer that it ain't over 'til it's over, what we got is not great so far but it ain't over
Thank you again and I'd be so happy to continue this conversation if you want!
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