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buckets-and-trees · 2 days

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FALLING AWAY

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: After his public claiming of you, Bucky still has more in mind to show the people his takeover of the pack and the lands that he has taken over.

Content/Warnings: omegaverse; explicit smut: public sex, exhibitionism, vaginal penetration, breastplay, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding, biting/claiming

Author Notes: Sequel to the drabble I wrote for Alpha Bucky in April, but does not necessarily need to be read before reading this. Hitting the breeding kink for @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo June prompt; and the dialogue, noisy sex, and exhibitionism prompts for the first week of Hot Bucky Summer.

There’s only a small part of you that wishes giving in to the leader of the HYDRA pack had been more difficult.

To be fair, you had resisted until the lives of others were at stake.

At that point, standing on principles seemed selfish, especially when it was evident Alpha Bucky Barnes had unequivocally taken the upper hand.

And then he had taken you physically to seal his victory publicly in the town square, knotting you, ripping orgasms from you, making him beg for you, and claiming you with the first mating bite.

Now you walk towards him willingly underneath a full moon three nights later.

For two of those days, the alpha had been relentless in plying your body with pleasure and fucking you through states of pain and bliss into exhaustion.

He had left you alone today, but only to yield you into the hands of a team of betas who had bathed you; plucked, waxed, and trimmed your body hair; buffed your skin and rubbed it with mild sweet oils that complimented your natural scent; cleaned and arranged your hair; and dressed you in an impressive bridal gown of silk and lace, but no underwear.

Many alphas and omegas bonded without a ceremony, but some pairs still chose to participate in the formal affair.

Your omega side had yielded to him fully at his first bite.

This ritual, however, was something that hadn’t taken place in living memory - a conqueror’s bonding, only necessary when one alpha or pack assumed power over another.

As you step up next to him, surrounded by witnesses (official witnesses and unofficial but curious), a shiver runs down your spine as his piercing eyes rove over your heaving chest. He licks his lips.

There is no officiant at the altar, only the two of you.

You know he must feel the piece of you that is valiantly still trying to fight him, because he cocks his chin slightly, and his gaze hardens as he looks down at you.

He takes the half step necessary to close the small amount of space between you. He raises one hand, and traces his thumb over your first bonding mark, eliciting another shiver from your body, but it’s more powerful - visibly noticeable to everyone watching.

Humiliating, but also unfurls a shoot of desire in your belly.

He then lets his hand rest there at the base of your neck, holding you, steadying you.

“Omega,” he utters, the deep tone seeming to wrap around your chest, the only word to signal what he wants next.

And so you tilt your head to the side, baring your neck to him.

A double bonding is biologically unnecessary, some couples engage in it, but the second claiming at midnight on a full moon was the sign of consolidation of power to the alpha and submission by the omega.It was predetory, performative, political.

Though there was the small part of you still clawing at you to fight him, you can not deny the part that had rooted in you that wanted him, wanted this, yearned for this claiming - so much so that you gasp and one of your hands shoots up to tangle in his hair as his teeth sink in to your neck, marking you a second time.

The rush of it is more than physical, though. You are flooded with even more of him inside of you, the bond doubling with the second bite.

His tongue laps at the fresh bonding mark, and you mewl softly and sink slightly into his chest.

“Up on the altar,” he instructs. “Present for me in front of these witnesses.”

His request comes as no surprise, even if you hadn’t anticipated it.

He had fucked you in public before, totally unabashed, why would he not subject you to that again? It had not been detailed in the historical records for this rite, but surely other conquering alphas had done more than merely administer the second bite when it said they claimed an omega for the second time.

And it was well known that knotting and breeding at the full moon enhanced the possibility of conception when an alpha knotted an omega.

All the better to ensure compliance and alliance.

But as Bucky pushes the delicate layers of silk and lace up over your bare ass once you are kneeling on the altar, the semantics leave your mind, and all you can focus on are his movements and the vague awareness that there is an audience to everything happening.

He sinks two of his vibranium fingers into your cunt, and he hums at finding you slick and wet for him already. He pumps those fingers slowly, priming you.

Shamefully, you whine when he removes them. You should be more resistant, more ashamed that he’s going to fuck you in front of a crowd again, shouldn’t you?

But he’s immediately crawling up on the altar behind you, kneeling between your legs, pushing your knees further apart to accommodate your big, burly alpha, the largest man you’ve encountered in your life. He leans over your back, his thighs meeting the backs of yours, his coarse hair a start contrast to your smooth skin there. He grips the back of your neck and turns your head so you’re looking back at the crowd.

His lips are at your ear as he speaks only loud enough for you to hear. “I’m going to take this slow, and I’m going to fuck this cunt until there’s no one left to watch.”

You shudder beneath him.

“You may pretend to be disgusted or ashamed, but after the other night, I think you like it.”

”No,” you breathe, and turn your head away from the scores of eyes glued your coupled actions.

”Yes, Omega,” he says. He moves his hips, rubbing the length of his cock against your wet pussy and the thatch of pubic hair growing damp with the mess of your slick as his hard length moves up and down against you. He tugs at the neckline of your dress until your breasts spill out.

“You like how they watch, you like how it feels to have them watch, to hold their attention, their lust, their envy, their fascination.”

His hands have been skimming over the swells of your breasts, but now he punctuates the last word with a tweak to one of your nipples, and you yelp.

“You don’t have to admit it, ‘mega,” he continues to murmur right next to your cheek, his hot breath affecting you just as much as every other feeling of him against and along your body. “I could feel the moment your body surrendered to the pleasure and debauchery the other night, and I know I will feel you hit that surrender again tonight.”

He gives your nipple another, harsher tweak, eliciting another yelp, but then he palms your breast, and you can’t help but moan.

“That’s a start,” he says, then licks the shell of your ear, causing a ripple of pleasure down your neck and spine.

“Alpha,” you plead - but for what you’re not sure.

He presses you down into the full presentation position, your face and chest forced down to the altar, and he leans back up straight. While his right hand holds you down, his left hand guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, and you keen for him.

He notches just the tip of himself into your tight heat.

“Louder, let everyone hear you,” he says, then sinks in to the hilt with one slow, powerful thrust, and you do moan openly at the fullness.

He has you so full with his cock that it’s like you can feel him everywhere inside you.

“Let them see without question who you willingly belong to now, Omega.” You can’t tell if it’s a taunt or an endearment at this point, but he grips your hip with his vibranium hand and begins to fuck you in a way that has you forgetting every thought that isn’t him in a matter of moments as with a double bond, the way your dual pleasure mingles and feeds off of each other falls away and all you want, breathe, feel, and crave is him. More of him. And maybe that is more of you showing anyone watching how well you take your alpha and how the pleasure he exacts from you is beyond anything you’ve felt before.

“Going to knot you and fill you with my seed until you’re bursting and dripping my spend, Omega, fuck a pup into you.”

And as you steadily are worked towards your first orgasm of the night, you know you will take him and all his complications and complexities because this - this all-consuming feeling that only he has ever given you - is undeniable and you’re insatiable for it and the enigma that is your alpha.

You scream of ecstasy shatters the atmosphere of the room, scattering some away, but drawing some to take a step closer, but you’re oblivious to the effect, and only urge your alpha to give you more.

So. Yes. I didn’t think I’d write more for these two, but here we are. How ya feeling, friend?

Technically mean alpha Bucky wasn’t winning the poll I put out earlier today, but he was still haunting my muse, so I had to write him anyway… so I guess that means you’ll still be seeing the poll winner from me later this weekend.

#hotbuckysummer2024 #bucky Barnes #bucky Barnes smut #female reader #bucky Barnes x reader #alpha bucky Barnes #babb2023 #aspen wrote something #marvel omegaverse

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im-not-samantha-im-samanta · 5 months

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Request by: @jellibean2018

Hello, Jelli! About two months ago you sent in a request, however my tumbl did me dirty, and I ended up with your ask, and the entire fic deleted! (Though, much to my relief, I found screenshots of the fic in a chat with my friend who was reviewing it. Thank god).

So, I have to tag you, and remind you what you wanted.

From what I remember, you wanted a fic with a female sinner Reader who was once a victim of Alastor's, and the two ending up meeting again in hell. You also wanted an unsettling vibe with Alastor reveling in the memory of killing Reader.

I also want to add that I apologize for how long you had to wait for this fic to be done. I haven't been doing well with fics lately, so this was a struggle. And my mental health started going shit too which is why I stopped posting for so long...

Anyways, I really started to struggle with writing fics, so I ended up experimenting with this one - it's kind of written with huge metaphor kind of style? Hope that's okay with you...

Anyways, hope you'll enjoy reading this at least a little, and I once again apologize.

🎙️// The sweet history we share... //🎙️

{Alastor x female!Reader}

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Type: Fanfic

Settings: Not specified

Genre: Unsettling? Can't tell if it actually gives that vibe though,

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, violence, blood, saliva, dead bodies, Alastor revels in the memory of killing Reader, possible yandere vibes? Alastor sees Reader as nothing but a meal, but he puts her on a pedestal - that's probably some kind of fucked up attachment that surely has a name? I'd say the vibe is quite unsettling, but I can't say that for sure, Angel indirectly suggests the use of drugs and hints at sex related activities (but it's just a single line), and that's probably all?

Sidenote: Reader is written as a female just as requested,

Sidenote: I have no idea if I wrote Alastor well... but it feels like I really made him ooc as fuck and ruined the whole request,

Sidenote: Rereading this I think everyone is ooc as fuck even if they have minimum dialogue,

That should be all,

Hope you'll enjoy,

___________________________________________

Ah, nostalgia. Ah that sweet nostalgia. And that embrace of her.

She comes in unannounced, an unexpected guest. But oh is she welcome.

And oh so welcome are those treats she brings to the table.

She easily settles in, making herself at home. And into a cup, a bunch of memories she pours.

And that demon, the radio demon as he's called - he drinks from that cup greedily.

And like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but ask for another cup to be poured.

His senses feel high, his body tingling. A feeling of addiction is what fills him.

And he can't get enough of those sweet memories, so, he downs one cup after the other.

But with each greedy little sip, the thirst only grows and grows - he's not had his fill still.

So, the demon goes on and on, tasting one memory after the other.

And his mouth waters a big deal the more he can taste, and he savours each and every one.

Ah, and he can't tell which one of the sips of memories he enjoys the most, which one is the most saliva inducing one.

Is it maybe the giddy old memory of how he followed you through the town?

With you completely unaware? Naively trusting those poorly enlightened streets?

Trusting that a bit of weak light will keep you safe?

Or perhaps it could be the sweet memory of the thrilling chase through the forest?

That one forest where thousands of dead bodies laid buried deep in the ground?

Those dead bodies in whose footsteps you followed suit?

Oh! And what about that memory of how you so desperately tried to navigate around and hide, escape his clutches?

Even if he could hear your sharp breaths as clear as the day?

Oh! Or maybe his favourite one could be the moment of when he tackled you down?

Pinning your body under his, finally cutting the chase so the real fun can begin?

And that beautiful moment of how you hopelessly dug your nails into his skin til blood trailed down his arms?

That one beautiful moment engraved into his head of how you desperately clawed at those lanky hands of his?

His hands that trailed, squeezed and pinched at your body, feeling you up like a winning prize, like a fine piece of venison?

Ah, it was so hard to pick which one was the most treasured one!

Hell, it could even be the simple memory of the melodious sounds of your cries.

That melodious, angelic sound of your pleading, whimpering, sobbing and screaming.

Especially those sounds you made when he bit down onto your flesh.

Oh, and that taste that hit his taste buds back then...

He still remembers it like it was yesterday.

And his tongue still tingles, and saliva still floods his mouth every time he thinks of just how tasty you were back then.

And now his mouth waters as he silently wonders... would you still have such taste even now?

Or did becoming a demon change the sweet, addictive flavour of your fragile flesh and thick blood?

Oh, how his senses urge him - beg him - to just grab you and take at least one single little bite...

I'd be really easy too, now that you're a part of the hotel staff.

Silly little you, you didn't flee when you were faced with the fact that he - the one who took your life - also works for the hell's princess now.

You didn't take the more than gracious chance to turn on your trail, run and never return while you still could.

No, you are too stubborn, and you insist on staying, even despite how frightening seeing him on the daily is for you.

Silly little you! Don't you realize how easily he could snatch you away and repeat history?

All it would take is a single moment of when you're alone and-

Ah, but he can't do that - at least not yet...

Where would be the fun in that?

It sure would be a shame to end your lovely reunion this fast and early on, no?

Not to mention the odd, messed up attachment the deer demon feels towards you...

Now, not to be mistaken! What he feels isn't the usual attachment one would think of!

It definitely isn't the good or healthy kind either...

So, we shall not be mistaken, let's not get our hopes up and think he cares - for he doesn't.

You mean nothing to him - at least as far as it comes to you as a person.

Your value could be most likely compared to something of a sentimental value, a plaything at best if you will.

Still, no matter what you are to him - you are by far his most favourite one at that.

That's what can be said for a fact.

And for reasons beyond us and even Alastor, those memories he shares with you are put on a pedestal - put way above the rest.

There were so many faces that twisted in fear, so many names he kept tabs on, so many tastes he's tried, and so many lives he's taken.

But very vast portion of them is long forgotten, not really standing out all that much.

Nor holding any real value. Barely any of them mattered...

But you, on the other hand - oh, he could never forget about that one lovely night you shared...

And even when more victims - more faces, more names, more tastes - came, they couldn't compare.

No, they never could.

Those memories of you and your taste were always stuck in the back of the radio demon's head no matter what new person was on the menu - what new dish was on his plate...

So, one can only imagine just what he feels now that you're back within his grasp.

Oh, not even his wildest fantasies could've come up with or prepare him for such sweet moment!

This was like a gift from the Devil himself!

Yes, a gift - one that Alastor would make sure to cherish greatly...

Ah yes, he would cherish you so.

He'd take his time unwrapping you like the perfect little gift that you are - he would savour you.

And only when he'd get tired of messing with you, only then he'd get to the real deal.

Oh, and when he'll finally do, it'll be like a starving man plunging onto bread crumbs!

It'll be such a beautiful, satisfactorily moment - Alastor can almost feel himself drooling at the mere thought of the moment.

Oh, how he just can't wait for the very moment!

The moment is so close, and yet so far - and every little glance your way is like a test.

A test of how long he can resist the temptation.

Every little move you make, every little noise that leaves you, every little expression your face twists into.

Oh, he can barely hold himself back!

His body feels so restless, and his thoughts are all over the place.

And no matter how much he reminds himself to be patient, to not cut straight to the chase just yet.

He still can barely keep himself in check.

His thoughts are going to dangerous places, and your familiar, sweet scent teases his nose.

Oh, and you're so within reach too!

It'd really just take a single little moment and-

"Geez, that perv's still at it?".

Oh, that's right.

He's almost forgotten about those curious eyes watching him from afar.

Watching, and trying to see inside his head...

But judging by the response Vaggie's hateful comment receives, it seems she's the only one to see right through him.

The only one to see the real danger behind that wide smile he always wears...

"Ya-uh! His eyes have not left her ever since she's joined the hotel staff!".

Ah, Charlie. Dear, sweet Charlie - now she's something else.

She's completely different from her girlfriend - she's quite naively trusting and optimistic.

Fully believing that there's a piece of good in everyone.

And hence not being concerned for your safety when the deer demon started to show an interest in you.

Ah, that sweet, silly little thing.

Caught up in trying to see only the best in people and their intentions...

It's amusing - and truly adorable.

And oh, does it play into Alastor's favour oh so well...

"Okay, that's like so sick and totally-".

Oh, Vaggie - she tries, she really tried to warn the others.

Make them see Alastor for what he truly is.

But aside from Husk, nobody really listens to Vaggie's concerns.

No, she's not all that listened to when she voices her opinions on the deer demon.

Not even when she expresses her concerns for how the latter constantly follows your every single step no matter the time of the day, no matter where you go...

And to think she has quite enough of a say in things as the hotel's manager, as well as the princess' girlfriend!

Oh, that poor little thing - it must be such an awful feeling.

How humorous!

And oh, how unfortunate...

"Ah! Do you think he's-?".

Niffty is completely on board with Charlie.

Similarly to the princess - she too doesn't see the real harm in Alastor's advances towards you.

Seeing his behaviour as nothing other than subtle romantic gestures.

The little demoness' version of romance sure is rather twisted...

And yet, it's still quite surprising Niffty doesn't see the harm in things.

After all, she herself knows Alastor just as well as Husk does...

"Yeah! Strawberry pimp totally got the hots for that one!".

Angel was caught up in the spiderweb of romanticizing the same thing as well.

Just like Charlie and Niffty, he couldn't see the truth...

"What? No! Are you all crazy?! That's not the case at all! How can you all not see that?!".

Oh, Vaggie - again and again, she really tries and tries.

But the result is always the same - nobody pays her warnings or concerns any thought.

And yet she still keeps on going.

What a miserable little thing she is.

"Oh my- I have like the best idea!".

Not even Charlie notices how Vaggie nearly begs for them all to see things from her point of view.

None of them can see things for what they really are.

Alastor's got them all right where he wants them.

Without even having to try much...

"We should totally get the two to have some alone time!".

Charlie is quick to naively play into the radio demon's games.

Without even knowing she's doing that.

She can't see this all is exactly what the deer demon wants...

And neither can Angel or Niffty.

Aw, those naive little fools...

"Yes! We should- like- create some really romantic atmosphere and leave them to it!".

Niffty follows through in Charlie's steps.

She too plays right into what Alastor wants.

Though whether or not she's aware of it is up for a debate...

"We should lock 'em up in a closet together or somethin', or even give them a little... somethin'... to just... ya know, set just the right mood in.".

And angel is quick to fall for Alastor's games too...

Ah, those silly fools...

Unaware they're making all this much easier than it should've been.

They're sealing your doom - the inevitable end you're ought to meet at his clutches.

They're making this all too easy...

They're shoving the little mouse right into the lion's den.

What unfortunate silly fools.

And what an unfortunate little you.

Your friends are serving you to him on a silver platter.

All of them - or nearly all of them - thinking they're doing you a favour.

Thinking they're simply helping a mere fool in love gain the heart of his love interest.

When in reality, they're actually helping a starving predator get closer to his chosen prey...

It was rather humorous - a good source of entertainment for sure.

So, Alastor would humour the group.

He'd indulge in their schemes of trying to set you up with him.

He'd gladly play along and lead them to think he's interested in you.

Well, interested in you they way they think he is, not the way he actually is...

No, they can't know what he actually wants from you.

They won't know.

He'll make sure of it.

They won't know until the very last moment, until the deed's already done.

Or, he'll lead them to think your disappearance has nothing to do with him.

After all, the sudden disappearance of a poor little sinner like you would be nothing new in hell.

You'd just be added to the endlessly growing numbers of hell inhabitants going missing.

Your disappearance would be just a part of the mere statistics.

Well, he'll see.

All depends on which option would prove to bring more benefit.

As well as which one would prove to be more entertaining.

That's what, to the deer demon, matters the most at the end of the day.

For now, he'll just go with the flow and let the situation progress by itself.

With the occasional shove to the right direction, of course.

But it doesn't seem like he needs to wait for that long for everything to be set in motion...

"Hey, Al, you got a minute?".

Yeah, he really doesn't need to wait for that long...

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#hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor pilot x reader #hazbin hotel pilot x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor imagines #im not samantha im samanta requests #im not samantha im samanta ask #im not samantha im samanta works #frenklinesamuelsrequests #frenklinesamuelsask #frenklinesamuelsworks

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theminecraftbee · 3 months

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so, first, accountability statement: I plan on trying to finish the “zedaph steals a baby” fic by the end of the month and god is that one-line summary no longer accurate but we’re sticking to it, said here publicly so now I have to do it. obviously I also have recursive exchange and the writing I have for hotguy comics zine, but I am not SUPER worried about either of those time/inspiration-wise at the moment and also for Reasons I know it won’t be long until I have more free writing time after that, SO.

various items that are on my potential writing docket, I am curious which of these appeal most:

I dust off the supervillain support group au. two ways this could go: I chip away at the second arc of my original outline and acknowledge this will be like a 300k fic I’m not ready to feel “done” with or “ready to post” with for ages, or I re-work it into something a little more doable and less ambitious keeping the same premise (ren runs a support group for supervillains, doc pov as he starts to heal and redeem himself). this MAY honestly be a target for “if I don’t hate the first 50k on re-reading it and I can actually make my brain write the second arc, do a slower release schedule and then start releasing chapters before I’m done writing”? but this ALSO runs the risk of “I stopped writing it, which is often a sign I was having trouble writing it”.

pearl monster au, which has been cooking in my head for a long while. the basic premise is “one day, pearl, with no memory of how or why this happened, wakes up in a facility as a monster and must try to figure out how she got there, escape, and find her way home, even knowing she may be irrevocably changed”. now with bonus season 10 fish flavor to add to this creature design I’ve been iterating on in my head for forever! this one is ALSO an experiment for me in “can I write a fic where I can’t write dialogue for basically the entire first act”, which would be interesting to see from me, you know?

the related “bigb folklore au”, where after secret life bigb is woken up by Cat and Dog by the tracks of the King Snake, which bigb can recognize as the railroad track, and decides to journey down the railroad to see if he can figure out what the fuck is going on. I need to do video review of life series bigb for this one. this is my excuse to get Weird and Metaphorical and also assign everyone to various animals for no reason, along with using some very specific aesthetic I have wanted to use for some worldbuilding but hadn’t gotten around to yet in any of my stuff. man walks through the desert with animal, confronts train that might be the watchers, might be death, and might just be a train. also, realizes that “confront” is the operative word there and has to deal with that. you know how it is.

““office au””, in air quotes because it’s not REALLY what anyone going to an office au is looking for so much as an excuse to write weird horror. iskall, normal-ish software developer man in a boring office job who does game jams in his free time, goes to work one day to work in his boring downtown office on a payment system for a client. and then things, uh, Take A Turn. this would be a LITTLE me going “what if I wrote an au with a guy who works in tech but like, the boring side of tech I’m in. like, banks and consulting and manufacturing and shit. where you sit in meetings all day and tweak java 8 code even though that language is ten years out of date. but THEN. something exciting happens in the worst way possible.” I’m doing to iskall what I did to mumbo stuffed bird is what I’m saying. it’d be fun.

DO ANY OF THESE PARTICULARLY INTEREST ANYONE. your input will be valued. like 50% chance i get hit with a strong bolt of inspiration then IGNORE that input but it’ll be valued all the same,

#note that me telling you about these ideas is ALSO accountability #on account of both ‘anyone can make whatever based on my things forever’ meaning one of you could make one now #and on account of people will start asking me about them on rare occasion now lol

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lilac--sugar · 8 months

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The Epitome of Spring

Summary: It was more of a joke than anything when Astarion suggested a bathhouse. Even more so when Karlach tacked on a nice meal and a large round of beer at a nearby tavern. Yet, after a long and rough few days it was all the gang wanted. (Late act 3. Spoilers in general but specifically: Spoilers for Astarion's Quest, Gale's Quest, and Wyll's Quest.) Pairing: Unascended Astarion/Tav!Reader (gn!Tav) (Tav race with a shorter lifespan in mind) I also wrote it with my Tav, Kieran, in mind (pictured above). If there are any mentions that contradict this being gender-neutral please point it out and I will gladly adjust it! 💜 Rating: E (18+ Minors Do Not Interact!) Content Warnings: (In order of appearance) Cussing Throughout, Near Death Experience Trauma, Heavy Angst (that gets solved rather quickly), Smut (starts halfway through 2.4k mark), Blood (Astarion feeding from Tav) (not a warning but it does end in fluff). (If I missed any please let me know!) Word Count: 4.8k Author's Note: Not betaed. I did my best to comb it over. If you see any mistakes please feel free to point it out! But do so kindly, please.💜 Also, there is some dialogue used that came from the game (iykyk). (Also this was posted last night but I just woke up and checked and it wasn't on the feeds I tagged it in. If the post does exsist please let me know and I'll fix it!)

The last few days had been incredibly harrowing. You’d thought that once you’d entered Baldur’s Gate things would have settled down some. Of course, there were loose ends that needed to be tied but the stakes kept getting higher. Almost impossibly high. Just about literally knocking on Death’s door. You can still hear the loud clanking, hand grasped tight to the metal rung of the ladder, body numb from adrenaline. All wrapped up in the fear that this was it, that you’d be snuffed out of existence, topped with the bow of worry about one man and what might become of him should you not make it.

“Darling?” Astarion’s hand waves in front of your face and you blink back to reality, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just,” you take in a deep breath, your lungs aching for air and you didn’t even realize, “zoned out.”

His brow knits together in concern, but you don’t bother to look up at him. Can’t stand it. Don’t want to think of that face he made, still just a few hours fresh in your memory.

It all seems rather silly now, being stood in the middle of Baldur’s Gate’s finest bathhouse all awash in melancholy. It was more of a joke than anything when Astarion suggested a bathhouse. Even more so when Karlach tacked on a nice meal and a large round of beer at a nearby tavern.

Yet here you were in a building the size of a palace. The House of Relaxation. Every last inch of it was gilded in luxury. Built with warm sandstone polished to perfection, flex of copper glittering throughout. Etched into the stone were runes of all kind. Upon closer inspection you’d realized they were invocations of relaxation and healing. There were pamphlets left on the counter explaining all of their services. From massages to solitary baths down to more extravagant options that included happier endings. Not one for too much pomp, you opt for something more humble, something that sounded a bit enchanting.

“Uh,” Astarion was there at your shoulder as you paid the attendant and gathered your bathing token, robe, and towel, “Which one did you go for?” he asks, trying to catch a glimpse of your token.

“Something basic,” you say, tucking it between the folds of the towel.

“I rather hoped we could do something together,” his voice is soft, cracking just slightly with something. Disappointment? Sadness? Your heart sinks but you don’t turn around, don’t know what to say really. Frozen in place, mouth suddenly dry.

You can see from the corner of your eye Gale eyeballing the two of you as he often does. With him and Astarion sharing a little corner at camp it made things too easy for him to eavesdrop, feigning like he was lost in thought.

“Oh, go on Fangs!” Karlach lands a rather impactful slap across Astarion’s back, “we all know you don’t do basic! Go ahead and get one of those fancy package deals!” She plops a pamphlet in his hands, “There ya go!” She points down to it, “The Goodberry trio! Facial, massage, and luxury honey bath! Sounds like your deal!”

“Uh, yes, I suppose it does,” he still sounds rather dejected, another pang to your heart.

“When we’re all done we’ll go to the tavern down the street, get something cheap and cheerful!” She ruffles at his hair, “You’ll see your sweet Tav there! And we can head to camp all refreshed and our bellies full!” She smiles wide at him, “Besides! Me and them got the same thing so I’ll keep an eye on them. No worries, Fangs!” As she says the last part she moves to you, tossing her arm over your shoulder.

“Right,” he turns to the counter with a deep sigh. You turn to dare a glance. He looks dejected just like you thought. You feel ill at the sight. Karlach hastily herds you away.

“Karlach,” you say in a hushed tone, “I don’t-“

“I know, doll,” She winks at you, pressing a finger to the side of her nose, “We all need our time alone. I don’t blame Astarion for wanting to be with you after what happened last night. But I also understand that you need your time to process it. I just wanted to help in some way,” she pulls away once the two of you enter the public showers, “If ya need someone, I’ll be in the,” She pulls her token out to read it, “Drunken beer bath falls!” She gives you a warm smile before disappearing into a section of the showers.

Public as the showers were, they were still individual stalls, marble walls and black silken curtains for privacy. You slide into one and turn the water on. The shower hisses to life, coming out shockingly cold. The noise, the feeling of the cold water against your skin- you gasp and press back against the cool marble wall.

A flash of The Iron Throne flitters behind your eyelids. You press a hand to your chest. You and your party had decided to split up. Wyll would get his father, Astarion would get Omeluum. You’d get some prisoners down another corridor and Karlach stayed in the main chamber to take down Sahuagin warriors as much as she could. In your stupidity you’d gone back to help a cell you’d mistakenly walked away from. Determined to help them it cost you so much time. You’d barely made it out. The hatch to the submersible was closing on you. Survivors shouting to go. Astarion, Wyll, and Karlach screaming to wait just a second longer.

That’s when you knocked on the hatch with all your might. Hand holding onto the rung with some strength you can’t even fathom now. Your body goes weak thinking about that moment.

Astarion was the one that pulled you up, looked as though he had been ready to dive back down in there after you. His wide eyes full of tears, the fear. The fear in those eyes.

You’d launched yourself up with your legs at the same time he pulled you. The two of you becoming a mess on the floor of the ship. Silence fell over everyone as Astarion held you against his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head. He’d shushed you, told you to let it out as you sobbed into him. You weren’t one to cry but that moment made you realize something about you and your relationship with him. An undeniable truth that couldn’t be ignored forever. Forever. The word hurts.

You seem to phase back into yourself. Pressed back against the wall, the water has gone scalding. How long had you let it run? How long had it been burning your feet? You’re quick to turn the temperature down, wincing as your feet burn. You press a hand to one of the healing runes and little to your surprise the burning goes away. Healed. Feet normal again.

With a sigh you carry on with your shower, using the milk and honey toiletries they’d provided.

You slip out of the showers, realizing they’d only given you one towel.

Knowing you were moments from getting wet again anyway, you slip on your silk robe. The smooth fabric clinging to your wet form. You shrug as you grab up your towel and head down to the ‘Nymph Forest’ room. There had been many themed rooms but that one sounded the most whimsical to you.

You turn the corner into the room, body instantly welcomed with the gentle caress of damped leaves. A small pathway into the room opens up into a clearing. Golden sunlight shines down from a lush canopy above, casts the room in shadows and sunbeams. You can’t help but notice dew drops on the leaves act like prisms, a dance of rainbows swirl around you as you walk through. The ground beneath your feet is a soft lush moss, smooth stepping stones placed here and there. Bakers fern brushes at your ankles, sprinkled through them are different wild flowers in an array of colors. Purple foxglove, lily of the valley, pink bleeding-hearts. There are magnolia trees framing the edge of the crystal clear water. The bed of the faux pond is smooth stone like the rest of the building but the copper dances and glitters as the water ripples above.

How this was one of the more basic options you really weren’t sure.

You place your towel to the side over a rather conveniently placed overgrown root, designed to look natural but definitely a bench. No one else is around. Perhaps not many people prefer an overgrown forest like yourself. With a satisfied sigh you dip a toe into the water. Perfect if not just the tiniest bit too warm.

You undo the tie of your robe, let it fall down your shoulders.

“Tav?” Astarion’s voice is soft, tapering off in a wavering sense of unsurety.

You nearly jump out of your skin, quick to pull your robe up, doing the tie once again. You glance over your shoulder but there’s no one to be found.

“I’m sorry. I feel like you wanted some time alone, and trust me I plan to give you that,” he says. You turn your eyes away, focusing on the way the sunlight glitters off the water, “I just want to make sure you’re alright. Ever since last night you’ve been distant. It was horrible, the whole situation, but I’m worried that you’re not so much,” there’s a pause, he’s swallowing a lump in his throat, “in need of alone time but more pushing m- us- away.”

The sound of water lapping at marble fills the air in the wake of conversation.

“I know I’m just being insecure and darling, please, take all the time that you need, but, know that I’m here and as long as you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

You turn back again, look around the corner and can see him pressed back against the wall of the hallway, facing away from you.

“Astarion,” you can’t help how tenderly his name falls from your lips. You’re scared you’re giving false hope as he blinks, surprised. He turns himself to look at you, you’ve never seen him look more like a lost puppy.

“How did you know which room I’d be in?”

“Well,” he twirls a hand through the air, “I might have taken a peek at the attendant’s ledger when he turned away,” he shrugs trying to hide his sheepishness, “But, uh- I don’t want to intrude, darling, I just wanted to let you know.”

“I know. And I want you here. Please.”

He doesn’t hesitate to cross over to you. Adorned in his own silken robe, towel clutched in his hands. You gently take it from him, toss it onto the bench next to yours.

“We’ve always been honest with each other,” you start, “well, at least since you confessed to me back in the Shadow Cursed Lands anyway,” you follow up, causing him to purse his lips. It was something he still felt the faintest amount of guilt over.

You reach out and take his hands in your own.

“I think,” you take a deep breath, look up at the canopy of leaves, trying to gather yourself, “we should end this,” you say, finally looking back at him, knowing you owe him at least that.

“Oh shit,“ heartbreak and shock spread across his face and your heart cracks in half. Your words, his face, you feel like you’re going to be violently ill, “I- Did I do something wrong? Why? What’s changed?”

“I’m just scared of hurting you. I’m scared that one day I’ll die and leave you alone. I saw the look on your face when you pulled me up on the submersible. I can’t stand the thought…” Your eyes start to water. You close them in an attempt to stop from crying but it’s all feeble as the tears fall down your cheeks. With a thick swallow you nod your head, “It’s easier now when you don’t love me too much, while you aren’t so attached.”

You hear him let out a small laugh, open your eyes to find him with a sad smile, “Too late for that, my love. This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can’t let our lives be ruled by fear or else we never really live. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of our future. When I said I wanted you, I knew what I was getting into. And when I said I didn’t want to lose that, I meant it. Now, if you have an issue with committing to an immortal,” pain spreads over his face, “I understand that and I won’t hold you back from what you truly want.”

“I have no issue in the slightest,” you say, stepping closer to him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

“Good, darling, besides, there’s plenty of things that can be done,” he rests his chin on your shoulder, melting into the embrace, “we can try to find me a cure and you can learn Timeless Body at some point. That’d put us on level playing fields. Or perhaps make you immortal somehow? If that’s something you want?”

“Anything,” you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, “anything. I don’t care. As long as I’m with you.”

The two of you rest in easy silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other. After a moment he hesitantly pulls back from you.

“Are you ok aside from that? I know how terrifying it is, standing on the brink, looking out and seeing nothing but the dark void of death,” He cups your face, kisses you softly over your eyes. His thumb swiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “Are you going to be ok?”

“In time,” you say, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Doesn’t help my fear of krakens much,” you’re trying to lighten the mood.

“Well, there were hardly any there,” he grins at you.

“No, but it’s just another layer to it all. Didn’t care much for the sea because of it before and now, kraken, being swept into the sea and drowning,” you shrug, “I think I’ll just carry a general fear of it from now on.”

“Fair enough, reminder, no dates out on a boat. Though, yachts are so nice,” he sees you shake your head, smile on your face, “oh well, Siilen's faen*. There’s plenty of other things I can treat you to. Right now, though, my sweet, I’ll leave you to it. I don’t want to impose.”

“Impose, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Deadly.”

“Well, then,” his grin grows.

“Astarion,” you pull away from him. He tilts his head, watching your form as you walk backwards from him, “If I’m going to try living again. I’d like to do so with everything life has to offer.”

“Are you sure? Are you in the right headspace?” he asks, following you like a moth to flame.

“Oh yes. If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded,” you say, being coy with his own words. You lean back against the tree, tilting your head to expose your neck.

“Darling,” he comes to you, presses his index finger under your jaw, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip, “let me see what I can do,” his fingertip traces down the expanse of your neck, circling down and over your collar bone, pushing your robe open just a bit.

You sigh softly, watching him through heavily lidded eyes. His fingers slide under the lapel of your robe, cool knuckles brushing over your chest, over sensitive skin that prickles under his touch.

He leans over you, his other arm resting next to your head against the tree. With his nose he nudges your cheek, causing you to tilt your head the other way.

You lean into him, go to kiss him but he pulls back slightly with a ‘tut’, shaking his head. With a soft, nearly frustrated, sigh you press your head back against the tree again.

Pleased, he leans back in, running his tongue over your bottom lip, then the top. Your lips part in anticipation for his but he remains a hairsbreadth away. His knuckles brush lower, leaving your chest and going lower, and lower. Your stomach flutters and a choked noise escapes you. He breathes it in, cool air flowing over your wet lips.

“Astarion,“ you say his name as a whispered prayer, sacred worship.

“Tav? Oh! I’-” your own name but not from Astarion’s lips. You don’t care, as you open your eyes, you only look to Astarion. You keep eye contact with him. His hand drops from you, eyebrows twitching in annoyance.

“Gale,” He pulls back just enough to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, “hold on, darling,” he whispers to you. His eyes fall on Gale, aiming a glare at him so finely honed from years of brooding it could level a small village, “My friend, my pal, my,” he grimaces just slightly, “buddy,” for what it was worth, Astarion, and you for that matter, did rather like Gale. It was just his persistency in the face of the two of you being an item that really got Astarion’s metaphorical blood, boiling.

“As you can see, sweet Tav here is rather occupied at the moment. With me. Their partner. Darling?” He turns to you and it takes you a second to pull your eyes from him, transfixed by him still.

“I’m sorry Gale,” you say, finally managing to look over at him, “I’ve tried to tell you so many times.”

“No, it’s me. I just, sorry, I just wanted someone to talk to. I’m seeing Mystra tomorrow-“ he sighs deeply, “I had hoped.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. Gale only waves you off, shaking his head, “Karlach is in the,” you pause trying to remember, “Drunken falls? She’s a great ear.”

“Right, I’ll go do that. Thank you,” awkwardly he slips out of the room.

You look back to Astarion who has a mix of adoration and contemplation on his face.

“What?” you ask softly.

“You’ve got a tender heart,” he says finally.

“Do not,” you protest, scoffing out a laugh.

“You do. I can feel it when we kiss,” his fingers move, come up to press under your jaw, right at your pulse, “I can feel it fluttering under my hand. Delicate like a little bird. You’re so sweet to everyone, even when they deserve to be told off.”

“He’s lonely, confused, hurt.”

“He’s bullheaded and taking advantage. He saw how you went off without me earlier,” he shakes his head, “an opportunist. I don’t blame him for trying but I do wish he’d stop. We’re together and everyone has recognized that but him.”

“I don’t want to think about Gale right now,” you say, taking hold of his arm, moving his hand up to cup your cheek, “kiss me, for Gods sakes, kiss me.”

He does. Softly at first, but you reach out, curl your fingers into his robe, pull him closer to you. Pleasure. One of the greatest highlights of life. Pleasure with the one you love, even more so. Hands move with expert precision, robes pushed off forms, bodies exposed.

The contrast of his cool body against your warm one causes you to hiss. He reaches under you, scoops you up under your ass and wraps your legs around him. You push back against the tree and cause the two of you to fall back into the open bath.

He gasps. You laugh. As if on cue the magnolia trees that line the bath release themselves of their flowers. Hundreds of pink and white petals falling all around you.

“You wild thing,” he says, coming up for air, “give a man a warning next time,” he scolds, and you grin across the water at him.

“Come here,” you say, taking perch on the smooth steps of the bath. Your body open for him, legs parted, arms resting back against the edge, “let me kiss you better.”

“Brat,” he mumbles. However, he can’t stay mad, not when there are petals adorning your hair and shoulders. His sweet, tender Tav. You look like the epitome of Spring. He knows you are with how you‘ve blossomed life back into the Winter of his own. He thinks Spring used to be his favorite, in a life long ago, knows it will be again.

“Takes one to know one,” you tease as he crosses over to you. He brushes petals off your shoulder and kisses you once more, tongue swiping across your bottom lip, asking permission. You tilt your head and grant it.

You press up against him, hips grinding. He moves a hand down, working it against you, his thumb swirling softly. You moan against his lips.

“Taste me,” you breathe out. Astarion nudges your head with his own, causes you to expose your neck for him once more. He presses his lips to the delicate expanse, “please,” you just about beg and he licks up the side of it, the cool air of his breath causes you to shiver under him. His thumb applies more pressure, wrist twisting just right, and shivers turn to writhing, “fuck!”

“That’s it, darling, I do love your little trembles of pleasure,” he coaxes. His other hand comes down, the pads of his finger pressing against your entrance.

“Fuck, yes, please,” you manage to say through a moan and he slips a finger in, eases in and out, rocking ever so slightly, down right teasing. You push back against his hand, your fingers going into his hair, you curl them, gently tug.

“No foreplay tonight?” he teases and you honestly adore it any other time but right now you need him. You need to feel this connection, to feel alive with him.

Gently, he eases his other finger in, rocks them in and out of you. His lips are at your neck and you tug again.

“Ask nicely, nibblet,” he murmurs, gliding his lips across the delicate skin there, dotting it with the slightest graze of his teeth.

“Please,” you whimper and he obliges, fangs sinking deep into your neck. Ice cold and yet the edge of pain mixed into your pleasure is delicious. You let out a cry, his name is a song from your lips. He curls his fingers up and hits that spot deep inside of you. His hands now working in unison. He goes to pull away from your neck, not wanting to be too greedy, “No, don’t stop. Oh Gods, fuck me, please,” you beg but he knows his limits with this. Just when he’s about to stop, the water around you charges up in a golden glow, and a rush runs through you. You’ve been restored and fresh blood comes pooling out of you, running down your neck, your chest, twisting through the water and white petals like smoke.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps and you press down against his hand again. He removes his fingers, realizing just how ok you are going to be. Limits be damned here. His free hand goes to your hip, his cock pushing lightly at your entrance. You meet him half way, surprising him a bit. He groans against your neck as he sinks deep inside you. Hotter than the bath and ten times more pleasurable. You are his favorite thing to sink into.

With free reign he drinks more deeply than he’s ever done before. The two of you rock your hips in unison, him hitting that spot inside you so perfectly. His other hand working you, never ceasing, thumb switching up in pressure here and there but still swirling perfectly over you.

You are brought to the precipice of darkness, warm numbness spreading over you before the water glows and restores you again. It’s on the third time that you feel the insurmountable heat pool up in the pit of your stomach. You’ve become a mess under him. Moaning and crying out his name. Damn the Gods his was the only name you need remember. The only name you needed to pray to. Your body trembles, the waves of hot pleasure building higher and higher until they crash down over you. You finish under him. You feel him pull back to look at you. You open your eyes, knowing he wants to see you, all of you, see your soul as you reach your release. He wants to see you blossom under him, finds you absolutely gorgeous as you do. It takes a minute later, before he tenses up over you, finding his own release in you. His head falls, forehead pressing to yours. Your breath mingles and you kiss softly, coming down off both your highs.

“Astarion,” your voice is almost weak as if all of this has made you lose it. He pulls back from you, softly licks your neck and down your chest. He doesn’t want to waste a drop of your precious life that you’ve given to fill his. He’s fuller than he’s ever been, the happiest too, he’s sure. It takes the two of you another moment before he slips away from you completely, the two of you wanting to keep that connection for as long as you could. Not willing to leave the other’s touch he turns around in your arms. His back to your front. You wrap your legs around his waist.

The water shimmers silver now and all traces of blood and whatever else have been cleaned from the water. The petals and flowers remain, drifting in the gentle current of the water around you.

“Do you think it’ll be a shock to you?” you ask after a moment.

“What?” he asks in turn, resting his head back over your shoulder.

“When you see your face again. You know, if we find a cure,” You rest your own head against his shoulder. The two of you becoming an amorphous blob, “And I know we’ve gotten you a statue from Stoney and Oskar painted you. But I suspect it’s not the same.”

“Ah,” he watches the sunbeams shimmer through the canopy of leaves above, “No, not quite. They’re great, don’t get me wrong. But they still feel a little separated. Not quite… me.”

“I’ve been thinking,” you say.

He hums in response.

“The courthouse.”

“What about it?”

“Well, they must have paintings of previous magistrates hanging up, no?”

“I-“ He turns his head, attempts to look at you, “I suppose.”

“You think maybe they have one of you? Would that feel less surreal or maybe more so?”

“I don’t know,” he looks off in thought now, certain that what you suggested might just be right.

“You could be in the library’s archives, too.”

“Gods, you really are something, aren’t you?” he sounds astounded and you duck your head into his shoulder, feel your cheeks burn at his praise.

“I wonder what color your eyes were,” you try to change the subject, can’t stand being complimented for long, even from him like you so adore.

“Perhaps a vibrant green. Something distinguished,” he turns his head, kissing the top of yours from your hiding spot.

“Nah, Astarion,” you lift your head, kissing the corner of his lips, “your parents probably named you for how you looked but also what they’d hoped you’d be. Hair like starlight, eyes strikingly blue, perhaps with flex of gold. All together they thought you’d be a beacon to bring hope and guide those who are lost.”

He huffs out a laugh, “A beacon of hope? Guiding those who are lost?”

He’s laughing in your arms, finding it absurd. Still, the thought causes trembles of happiness to spill out from him and you smile, pressing it against the crook of his neck.

“You could be. Maybe we’ll help the spawn once this is all over? You could be just that for them.”

He’s still giggling, wiping at his eyes as tears had started to fill in them, all happy you’re assured, “We could do that. Those pour souls need a leader. All of them are so tragic without one.”

“I take it back.”

“What? That I’m a beautiful beacon of hope?”

“I didn’t say beautiful.”

“Oh, it was heavily implied. We both know you meant to say it anyway.”

“Ok, yes, you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. No, the most divine thing to walk this planet.”

“Good, glad we agree,” He nestles back into you, content smile across his lips, “but really, what do you take back?”

“I think your eyes were brown. Deep and warm like rich dark honey in sunlight,” you press kisses over his shoulder and up his neck, just behind his ear.

“Mmm, that does sound alluring, tell me more.”

You press your lips to the shell of his ear, whisper, “How about, I love you? Is that good for more?”

“That’ll do,” he smiles.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he turns in your arms, kisses you softly once again. The two of you lost to one another. The rest of the gang long gone to the tavern before the two of you emerge.

You spend the night delighting in one another. Making the other laugh, giving a gentle touch, and kissing. So many kisses. You forget your fears of the future. For you know, without a doubt, he will be there and there will be love.

(* Elvish Translation: C'est la vie or That's life. I used a Common to Elvish translator so I'm not even sure it's accurate 😂 Hopefully it is though!) Last little note here! Gale is portrayed the way he is here because, personally, in my playthroughs he's been VERY persistent. I know he's just bugged and he's a darling really, but I just found it funny how often he tries to shoot his shot with my Tav.

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markiefiles · 7 months

Text

OBSCENE

fem reader x leon kennedy

warnings: age gap (not specific but reader is about 20/21 years old), smut — so, minors do not interact — mention of alcohol, praise kink, unprotected sex, dirty(?) talk.

notes:proofread(?) but sorry anyway for mistakes! — english is not my main language lmaoo! im kinda obsessed with id/di leon need him fr to ruin me nd tell me that im his pretty girl (delulu) and I needed to write something w/him cuz yes, like why not, it's probaby poor but i keep with my obssession over him so that's it, and idk i should wrote with leon in pt-br .

You'd like to start by saying that it was immoral, that's all and nothing more.

There was nothing more obscene than your mother's best friend.

Leon used to spend his afternoons there, either drinking or chatting with your mother.

You weren't that close to him, you were always too distant. And you didn't understand why being close to him was so difficult. Maybe it was the lack of tact, you liked to think that Leon Kennedy was taking care of your mother, even going out with her, but no, they were just friends and that was the kind of reality you feared.

Not that Leon wasn't good, he was really good, too kind, soft, understanding and passionate. He made you nervous, the few dialogues that both of you had would leave you thinking for days, it was his husky deep tone, the way he kept you entertained with his voice, how his blue eyes never strayed from yours, how his fingers were big, rough, his tall nose that made your stomach turn.

It was almost a necessity to look at him.

Leon made you restless, a well of excitement that you couldn't really catalog, it was intense, it made your legs shake.

What's worse, he knew it, but you didn't. He was so discreet that he seemed to reject you.

There was the way he dressed, Leon was definitely the guy who grabbed the first piece of clothing from the wardrobe, yes, he was the guy with black boots, jeans, shirts with the first three buttons open and leather jackets. And that was the problem.

You could mention the smell of alcohol, perfume and deodorant, you never liked very strong smells, but whenever Leon was around you made sure you got a whiff of that scent, you even rolled your eyes, you wanted to sink into his perfume.

And it was definitely worse in the heat. Leon was modest, clumsy, his blue eyes were tired and his huge arms stuck out made you nervous, your thighs rubbing against each other. It was sweaty, a lot of sweat and all very wet.

It was immoral, obscene to think about Leon Kennedy, because your relation with him were awkward.

You wanted to keep it all in your head as if it were a memory, but even when your mother wasn't around, Leon insisted on taking charge, prowling around the house, dominating.

It was hard to avoid him, to avoid his presence especially, he wanted you to look at him, to keep your attention on his eyes.

Evenings were always lonely, you liked your own company. You didn't have many friends at college, it was more about staying at home doing nothing, maybe listening to music, doing the assignments for the extra points.

You went downstairs, you knew Leon would be around somewhere.

The bottles of beer were in the fridge, you picked one up, used your fingers to open it and drank it greedily. The silence was somehow intriguing, you ran into the living room, sat down on the sofa, legs crossed as you felt the warm wind on your skin.

Leon catches a glimpse of you, snakes his fingers over the upholstery of the sofa and lets out a low laugh, you look at him in bewilderment and again his eyes watch you and never break contact. There is an overwhelming restlessness, he also makes a point of drinking something more alcoholic, unlike you something stronger. The glass of whiskey plays between his fingers and Leon give off a sexual aura, to say the least.

He notices your attention, lets out a friendly smile, then strikes up a conversation, wanting to entertain you.

"Is there a problem, sweetie?" He asks, settling down next to you and looking at you through the gaps in his bangs. You don't answer, you just take another swallon of beer and Leon narrows his eyes, chasing the fillet that escapes through your lips and lands on your neck. "How's college then? I don't see you as much as I used to," you peek at him from the corner, you like the way his thighs move in his pants, the bulge he's carrying between his legs, incoherent.

"A-ah... Well, college takes up a lot of my time..." you seem at a loss for words, watching Leon sit down more intimately next to you, listening intently "I... I've also been staying in my room more, I don't really like crowded places." He lets out a laugh, stares at you even though you can't see his eyes, shyly.

"You're quite different from your mother, aren't you?" He asks, sips his whiskey and once again, you look at his hands, they seem too hot, they're muffling the glass "Yeah... I think we're very different," you points out.

The small talk is awkward, not because Leon is trying to find out more about you, but because there's a tension to it, it's the way the words play in his mouth, the husky lust tone. "Shouldn't you be working? We'll end up making a room just for you" You make a joke and he lets out a sarcastic chuckle, puts down his glass and does the same with the bottle you were holding.

Then he looks at you, a desire that reflects on your lips and you return it with the same intensity, silence and heat... very hot. You watch his face, his beard growing, his neck exposed, the delicious smell he has and you bite your lower lip, disconnected.

He stalks over, takes one of his fingers into the strands of your hair and tucks it behind your ear, affection in his gaze, desire on his tongue. "Don't you like it when I stay here, princess?" it's a question that hits you like a punch in the stomach, you feel your throat go dry, swallowing the pile of saliva that forms. Inconsequently, you grab his hand, still on your face, kissing the majestic palm, mentally measuring how warm it was, almost a sin. You don't even know why you did that, maybe the alcohol, maybe what you truly wanted to do with Leon.

"I... like having you around, Leon." You move closer, your hand resting on his thigh, intimate. He smells your alcoholic breath, rubs his thumb against your cheek, affectionate, perhaps even guilty for feeling so much like touching your body. He kisses you and the sound of his lip against yours turns you on, makes you eager.

You move, close your eyes, your body on his, your ass on his lap and suddenly, he unloads his fingers on your curves, squeezes your thigh, hungry. You pressed your body against his, letting go of the kiss, but rubbing yourself, feeling the thickness that awaits you, panting. Leon looks just as desperate as you, squeezing you and bringing you closer to him.

"Fuck—" he whispers, the tip of his nose touching your neck, he has so many compliments to throw at you, but he doesn't release any of them, not at that moment, amused by your moans, the sighs you gives. "You're beautiful" his fingers run down your neck, he carries you dominant, bites your jaw, plays with your ear, peeking at shivers on your arm and spine.

"L-leon...." you whimper, your soft body is driven eroticall by him, you rub your cheek against him, his rough beard makes you moan. He grabs both cheeks of your ass, slaps you and says affectionately "Take your clothes off for me, love, I want to see your tits," you obey, your nipples bounce and Leon's cock twitches, the jeans seeming terribly tight.

He growls, now you're just in your panties, naked in front of your mom's hot best friend. Leon brings his big palm to the side of your waist, your warm skin drives him crazy, he approaches you, kisses one of your nipples and you feel your knees tremble.

Suddenly, the thought of rubbing your tits against his face while complimenting you seems to make your panties wetter.

You ride on top of his thighs, again, he plays with your nipples, squeezing, biting, you are a mess. Your fingers run to Leon's soft hair, he eats you up with his mouth, seems to want to get milk from your breasts.

"Now sweetheart, I want you to show me that pretty cunt, can you do that?" Leon asks you like you're stupid, he mocks you, but seems eager to stretch you inside. Once again you obey him, too soft, pull off your panties and he quickly pulls you, kisses your lips bewildered.

While Leon's tongue curls around yours, his fingertips play with your folds, he whispers “You're so wet for me, doll” and kisses you again, concentrated. Leon doesn't notice, but his pants are so wet, you dirty him whole with your pussy, moisten his clothes and don't even notice.

You take off his T-shirt, run your palm over his bare chest and moan, rub against him and moan once more, until you feel your ass being grabbed.

"Please, Leon... please, I need you to fuck me, I need your cock." you confess, he lowers his palms, taking off his belt, opening the buttons of his pants, calling you a “messy girl”. His eyes shine, Leon has a huge cock that barely fits inside the boxer he wears. He sighs, relieved, but the cock moves, you let out a naughty giggle, you want to suck him but he stops you.

"No, baby. Today I just want to fill your cunt with my cum, 'kay?" you nod once again overpowered by him. You take off his underwear, bite his lips, naughty, rub yourself on him, your folds being split in half as he moans, squeezes your thighs, pours you slaps. His cock enters inside your pussy, your walls squeeze him and like an animal, Leon grabs you by the waist, makes you take all the thickness of it. "I want to break you, princess" admits and the lust kills you, messes, makes you cry.

He chuckles mockingly at you, you can barely get his whole dick to you. "How do you feel? You're giving that's pretty tight pussy to yours mom's friend, y’know? F-fuck your pussy squeezes me so much, girl. Tell me..." breathes, he fucks you uncontrollably, the wet sound makes you dizzy. "Say to me that you are crazy about my cock, tell me that you are a fuckin whore, want daddy’s to fill you up, make you a mess."

"Y-yes! Fuck, I-I want daddy's cock, Y-yes harder—, L-leon." Whimpering, you bounce on his cock and every moment, Leon seems more aggressive, bites you, slaps you, takes your lips and spits in your mouth. “Your pussy is so wet, drippin that much for me, babe, fuck... I want to fuck it every day, yes, I want you to give me your pussy every day.” He says possessive and you accept, wanting his sperm inside your womb, giving you cum.

You can't even tell how violent this sex is anymore.

But keep going, he changes your position, your body with your back to him, your ass bouncing as he sees his own cock coming and going. "Damn, you're so delicious, princess, I'm addicted to your cunt, shit—" Leon admits, grabs you, uses one of his hands to drive your neck and smothers you, slaps your little tits, spread your legs to finger your clit and drives you crazy.

You only know to ride, cockdrunked and squeeze Leon's cock with your tight pussy.

Leon spreads your legs, lifts you up by the hip, and you lean against his body, waving the hip, now the tip of his dick hitting violently against your clit, making you soft. You feel like you might faint at the rudeness once again.

"You're so big, Leon— Fuck, fuck! I-I want to cum for you, please, let me cum..." you cry and this time it's just a mess of tears and saliva, you keep it in there and Leon teases you, replies "Oh, yeah? So, do you wanna cum? Do you wanna me to milky that fucking dripping pussy? Want Leon's cock to fill you up, hm?", you nod again, agreeing.

He once again changes position, stands on top of you, your legs on his shoulder, you roll your eyes, enjoying how his bare chest covers you, how big he is, how his arms look like they are going to swallow you and how his fingers play with your pussy. Leon circles his fingers against your clit as he fucks you, rubs the base of his cock into your folds and melts it with cum.

You squeeze your tits and he kisses you, letting your whole body be in control of him, your breasts in his hand, your pussy on his cock, your mouth on his. Leon eats you so hard that he has to lean on the fabric of the sofa.

Then, he brings his heels together, gets your pussy crushed by the inside of your thigh and comes back to fuck you. Leon kisses your legs, the hip does not stop moving for a second, you let out a sharp scream, roll your eyes and cry "Oh! Y-yes... this! Leon, I'm cummin’, yes, yes...!" announces it and he keeps fuckin you.

"The way you squeeze me is so fucking good, princess!" his cock tingles, you can't see him, your legs are in front of you, but you feel the warm sperm inside your walls, your womb. Leon comes out inside, your pussy twitches and some of the milk comes out, drips, makes the couch dirty. "You're amazing, princess... fuck." He kisses you, wipes the sweat from your temples, brings your body to him, hugs you affectionately and stays listening to your heart, giving you soft kisses.

Leon likes it, he likes you too much, your body and your pussy.

It's obscene.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy death island #leon kennedy infinite darkness #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #resident evil imagines

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winter-sol · 1 year

Text

🧡birthday night with Levi🎉

word count: 4,6k contents: AFAB reader, explicit sex (minors dni), fluff and smut. porn with feelings, some rough sex and possesive dialogue. levi only has one dick, sorry. repost! since tumblr is messed up. hey there! this is something I wrote for leviaday, following the events of his birthday event '23, after the party at the hotel. started as something fluffy and slightly horny. got out of hand, oops. hope it's not too late for a birthday fic uwu

also at ao3 here ;)

“Well, once again it’s only me, you, Asmo and Mammon. So much for an epic party, lmao”. Levi’s voice is a bit difficult to hear with the roaring noise of the two party animals singing a song at the karaoke machine. Asmodeus is an amazing singer, but it’s late, they’re drunk and at this point they’re screaming more than hitting actual notes.

“Yeah, it’s late though, and everyone gave their all collecting those cards today. I’m sure they all fell asleep as soon as they hit their beds”.

“Yeah, I agree.”

A particular loud sound comes out of Mammon, he seems to be quite passionate about those lyrics. Asmo sips what’s left of his drink and proceeds to do the chorus. It’s going pretty well, to be honest.

Leviathan’s hand finds yours slowly but surely, his grab is gentle and firm. He’s absolutely not shy tonight, not after he had such a great day. And not after he was so open with you a couple hours ago, at that fountain. You squeeze his hand and lean your head on his shoulder, relishing the softness of his clothes and the fragrance of his hair.

“Do you want to sing another one? I made sure to put all of your favorite openings and endings before we started.”

“You’re the best, I mean it. But I think I’m fine like this”, you answer while you intertwine your fingers with his, emphasizing your words.

You feel his breath speed up a bit only for a moment before he says “Okay. Let’s just watch those two embarrass themselves then.”

The next song seems to be a ballad, one that Asmo wants to sing alone because he claims he’s too talented to share the spotlight with stupid Mammon right now. And he wasn’t wrong at all, it was coming out quite good since he was putting his all.

The alcohol from the champagne and the wine you had drunk that night wasn’t affecting you as strongly anymore, but Levi’s companion was so pleasant and cozy you found yourself being silent while reading the lyrics on the screen through heavy eyes.

It talked about a lover who made your days brighter, who you wanted to spend the rest of your days with. Suddenly, you remembered that afternoon, at the park. The sunshine resting on your skin was warm and blissful, you had missed it so much. Still, nothing made you as happy as hearing Levi’s nervous tone while he wondered about a hypothetical wedding. You could feel your heart racing once again at the memory.

You turn to face him, and find him wearing a silly smile, though you’re not sure if it’s directed at his brothers’ display or it comes from having spent a long, enjoyable day that simply makes him happy. Maybe he’s feeling as content as you after all you two have been through today.

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his cheek, making him startle at the unexpected sensation. He looks at you with big eyes, but once he notices your expression he immediately softens. Without a second thought, he kisses you on the mouth, not as chaste as you’re used to in his advances, but still a calmed, romantic one. It’s so full of feeling you melt in it for a moment.

His lips are smooth and slightly moist, the sight makes you want to keep pressing into them. He barely starts separating your mouths when you insist on kissing him again, and again. It’s not an inappropriate scene but you’re sure on any other day you’d avoid doing it in front of others, even if they’re distracted blasting the speakers. Still, right now you can’t really care about that. You can only think of Leviathan.

After a while, you two finally break the kiss, your breathing coming out restless. His arm had found its way around your back while you were busy, and now you realize how close you are to him. The joy that fills you is so strong you need to hide your face on his neck, unable to break the distance. A couple minutes must have passed, and you finally realize the song had ended and only the background music of the karaoke menu is coming out.

“Well, well, my dear MC, my dear big brother, we’re heading to our bedroom. Make sure to not stay up too late, ok? Though I wouldn’t blame you for it, am I right? Heehee.” Asmo says, a wink accompanying that sentence. Realization hits you but you try to keep it hidden.

“Hey, don’t mention something like that! Ugh. Bye, losers.” Mammon waves his hand while they disappear through the long corridor heading to the dorms.

…

“…They totally saw us, right?”

“Yep... Whooaahh, what do I do with this cringe?!” Leviathan says while he dramatically lifts his free hand to his forehead.

You grab his hand in order to calm him down, “Don’t mind, Levi, I’m sure we’ve embarrassed ourselves to their eyes harder with our cosplays and all of that. This is nothing”.

“That… doesn’t sound any better at all but I take it, lol”, he pauses and then says in a lower tone “Anyways… Well, now we’re alone and all… Do you… Do you remember what I said earlier? That maybe after the party, we…”.

You were expecting this to happen, yet you can’t help to be touched by his initiative. He’s grown so much in the time you’ve been together. “Of course. I… want to be with you tonight”. A pause. You aren’t that confident either, it’s hard to voice this kind of stuff sometimes. “Shall we head to our room?”

“Y-Yes.”

He stands up and grabs your hand, leading the way through the floor.

When you enter, you realize how luxurious the bedroom is as well. A big window displays a breathtaking scenery, city lights decorating the sight accompanied by a huge moon lighting up the dark, spacious alcove.

It’s a beautiful place, and you really want to savor this moment. You grip his hand and guide him to the large bed, expectation rising inside.

There is something you want to tell him, that you need to tell him.

You stand in front of him, suddenly thanking your height difference so you don't have to directly look into his eyes.

“Levi… today, you said it many times, and I’m not sure if I was reciprocal enough. But I wanted to tell you that I love you… I love you so much that only the fact of spending today with you, of being here with you now, it makes me as… nervous, as the first times we went out together…” God, this is harder than you thought. You end up looking at the floor when you feel his arms wrap around you tightly.

“Hey… How the tables have turned. How is it possible I’m the one comforting you suddenly? Haha…” He says, his chin resting above your head. Before he can say anything else, you continue.

“I love you. I also… want to spend many birthdays with you. And now… I want you to tell me what you want from me. Anything, everything you want, I’ll give it to you.” Your own words overwhelm you, but you try to stay calmed.

But you feel his breath catching and now you’re sure you’re not any better at all.

Before laying you down on the bed, the squeezes you in his arms one more time. Slowly, he positions himself above you, and his eyes rest on you with a look full of adoration, mouth slightly agape, kissable lips parted that you only wish to feel again.

He directs an unexpected smile towards you. “You are always everything I want, but now… I’ll take your offer, ok?”

Idiot. He made you nervous again. “Y-Yes”. You were ready to give in to whatever he’d do next, but you suddenly remembered something.

“Wait!” You exclaimed. “I need to do something first!” He only watches intrigued as you cast a simple spell directed at the door.

“It’s done. We don’t want anyone to hear a thing, right?”

“Oh?... Oh! That’s so cool! You’re so amazing!” He beams at you, expression full of admiration.

You laugh a bit. “Levi, it’s not a big deal.” Of course, you were happy at his compliment. You stare at his bright, adoring eyes, and between smiles, your lips meet each other in the middle.

The kiss starts innocently, slow and sweet. But as you give into the feeling, it grows hungry quickly.

His mouth is hot and wet, tongue finding every single spot he wants. His hands run through your hair, to your neck, your shoulders, touching everywhere he can. One goes to your upper back, holding you there, while the other goes lower. He stops for a moment, but once you grasp the hair of his nape a little too strongly, he gets the message and grabs your breast without any more reservation.

The palm cupping it moves, relishing everywhere it can, delighting in the softness of your chest. You wished your clothes weren’t interrupting, though.

His mouth moves to your neck, and he starts kissing there, tongue lavishing and giving small bites. Asshole, he wants to leave a mark. You know he has wanted for a while, but you’re too reserved to let all his brothers see that. But now, not only you don’t care anymore, but you actually gave him permission this time. You’re his to take and take you he will.

Not like it matters, you know there’s a spell you can cast to hide it tomorrow anyway.

Your train of thought is interrupted by his hands reaching under your shirt, touching your scorching skin directly. Your shirt ends up at your neck while curious fingers start grabbing your chest, softly rubbing your nipple. His other hand has moved lower as well, grabbing your thigh, a strong grip squeezing the plumpness in there, followed by a light caress.

The duality of his bold, desperate grasp, and his kind, gentle touch is only reflecting his true self, his true intentions, his unapologetic desire and sweet respect. He's just like that, and it was driving you crazy.

A violent pinch drives you back to the moment. Moving down, he looks into your eyes while he starts relieving the pain with his tongue, tenderly lapping at it while his hand now stimulates the other one.

After feasting himself with your chest, he shifts his position and grab your legs, spreading them for him to accommodate between them. He starts giving attention to your exposed belly, open mouth kisses going lower each time. When he starts unbuttoning your pants, clearly getting his intentions, you panic for a second.

“H-Hey. Is that ok? Shouldn’t I be the one… doing things to you? I… want to do it.”

His slight surprise is quickly replaced by a small laugh. “Eh? You’re worrying about that? No way, I get a free pass to do what I want, right? Then let me do this!” He says as if the mere idea of thinking that going down on you wouldn’t be pleasing for him is ridiculous. “W-Whatever comes next… Well, we’ll see, ok?”

You sigh. Fuck, now it shouldn’t be the time to make him doubt a thing. “Ok… Let’s do it”.

As he lowers the garment, he has your panties in front of him. He stays there for a while simply looking, fingers grazing the cotton fabric, following the outline of your intimate area. Of course, the pervert likes panties a little bit too much. He's captivated, the way he touches is devoted and erotic, and you find yourself wanting more.

A shameless kiss to your clothed nub makes a moan come out of you. The sound is invigorating to him, driving him to give more wet, open-mouthed kisses to your cunt. You close your eyes when he gives attention to your clit once again, sucking at it through the fabric.

“L-Levi! Ah…”

Your sweet, high-pitched whines are like music to his ears, he’d do anything to take them out of you. He pulls the fabric aside and starts tasting your folds directly, savoring your wetness.

You open your eyes and lower your gaze; you simply want to look at him while he does it. You grab his hair, soft at first, petting him tenderly. But the sensation of his fingers slipping inside you while he eats you out makes you pull at his strands. The violent gesture is arousing to him, making him delve into his ministrations even harder, his own moans muffled while his face is buried into your sex as he keeps licking and sucking, making a mess with his tongue and fingers, getting you closer to your orgasm.

“Levi, I-I won’t last much longer. I-If you want more then you should stop-”

“No fucking way. I wanna make you come. You really think I’ll end this now?”

You won’t argue with him, you’re far too gone for that. You try to look at him while he finishes you but the frantic pace of his fingers and the sloppy, wet kisses he’s giving you are too much for you. You can barely stand the pleasure growing, your legs closing around him and squeezing his head in place, unable to move out even if he wanted to. He actually likes your thighs restraining him, encouraging him to keep going harder.

His feral tongue, his knuckle-deep fingers moving inside you finally take you to the edge. Your vision blurs and only see white when your climax hits you, a loud whine escaping your throat.

As you come down, your legs relax and let go of him. You feel a final kiss down there before he parts from you, fluids and saliva running down his chin. It’d seem forbidden to even look at him right now.

“…How was that? Did you like it?”

“Huh? You’re asking that?! Don’t fuck with me.” You mutter, only playing with him, and at this point of your relationship you’re certain he gets it. “… Of course, you were amazing… As always.” You end up adding.

He beams at you, though you’re sure it’s not an innocent smile after all. “Hehehe… Great, because I’m not done with you yet.”

“Hey, let me touch you.” You let out before he gets another idea. He doesn’t have time to answer when you already reach for his clothed erection.

“A-Ah." He seems somewhat taken aback. But he reacts faster after getting so turned on, giving in. "You know I can’t say no, right?”

You can't help but grin. “On your back. Now.” You order after having his consent.

“Y-Yes.”

Resting above him, you give him little kisses on his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and his lips. The taste is not good at all, but you don’t care.

You grab his length under the hem of his pants and give a firm squeeze at the base. He lets out a groan, looking at you through his long, blue eyelashes. His dark eyes, color engulfed by his large pupils, reflect the moonlight. A shiny, innocent look to a lust-filled gaze.

“You’re beautiful, Levi.” You whisper closely to him, making sure he can hear your devotion. Your hand starts a pace, up and down, a slow movement that will lead him crazy.

“Nnnggh… MC… Keep going.”

He already has precum leaking. You pass your thumb through his slit and smear the liquid down the shaft, easing the movement. You speed up the pace only a little, and he already is squirming under your touch. So easy, so desperate.

“Give me more. Do it faster.”

He’s open about what he wants tonight, and you can’t say you don’t like this side of him. He’s so gorgeous, you want all of him.

You give his neck a few kisses before heading down, sure of what you’ll do next. He only looks at you, not even shy about it. He’s feeling greedy and won’t stop you.

A small, feather light touch of your tongue on his head has a sharp breath coming out of him. He inhales slowly, his buffed chest looking splendid from your point of view. God, he’s so sexy.

“Could you take that out for me?” You say while resting a hand above his torso, grabbing the fabric of his shirt.

He obeys easily. He wants you to look at him, he wants you to desire him. You’re greeted by the sight of his toned figure, abs and pectorals delicious under the moonlight, strong arms supporting his weight as he leans, watching you.

You’re eager to taste him, engulfing his head in your mouth, tongue teasing. Your hand works through the base while you take the upper part of his dick deeper into your wet heat. You bob your head, saliva running down his length. It makes the movement of your hand smoother. You suck firmly and after you take it off your mouth, you work it swirling your tongue. It’s sloppy, you're sure you don't look as attractive as you'd like, but you can’t stop. It's delirious, doing this to him.

He brings a hand to your hair, petting it at first. But after your pace increases, he grips the back of your head, starting to guide the movement.

Ah, you can’t complain when he gets like this. The thought of your usually timid boyfriend getting rough is the hottest thing ever. Heat builds between your thighs, eager for more.

You can feel yourself drooling around his cock, the motion fast and intense, its head hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes have slightly watered at the roughness of it, you can almost feel yourself choking on it, but he always makes sure to give you some space to breathe before pushing you down again.

You hear him moan shamelessly at the sensation, completely surrendered to the pleasure.

He slows down for a second and says “I-I’m coming. Can I… Inside…?” His voice is soft and breathy, as hot as it’s cute.

You manage to nod, unable to speak.

Resuming the movement, he guides your head down and up again, as frantic as before. The pressure drives him to the edge, and between loud whines, you feel him climaxing and filling your mouth, a thin, slightly creamy liquid easy to swallow. You’re thankful he’s a demon, with… well, different anatomy and such.

He lets out with a ‘pop’, rests of cum escaping your lips. You look at him and he looks as wrecked as you think you should look right now. Well, you must be even more messed up after that.

Mimicking his previous words, you say “So… Was it good? Did you like it?”

He laughs, with the audacity to sound embarrassed. “Y-Yeah. Thank you.”

His face is filled with bliss, but you won’t forget about the pressure you feel down there.

You decide to tease him. “So, should we get ready to sleep or-!”

“Nonononono. Nope. Not yet, ROLF. I told you; I’m not finishing with you soon. I mean, it’s already past midnight, technically it’s not my birthday anymore but I still get to have more wishes come true… Right?”

“Yes, ‘cause I’m going to kill you if you leave me like this.”

“Eek! Sorry, on my way!”

He guides you to his lap and after he settles you inside his arms, he takes off your shirt. You lift a little to undress your pants and underwear while he does the same.

After that, you take a moment to simply rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. You’re eager for more, but that won’t stop you to relish your time with him. He caresses your back and your hair, giving soft kisses to your forehead.

He speaks again, his voice is hushed. “I love you, MC. Can you give me a little bit more of you tonight?”

He’s tender and sweet, it fills you with contentment and want.

You turn to face him, kiss his chin, and say “All of it. You can take all of me.”

Between passionate kisses, you straddle him, settling your arms around his neck. He locks an arm around your waist, while the other cups your cheek. Your tongues are still bitter, but the need to taste and relish each other is stronger.

You can feel his hardness against your thigh, ready for more. After parting your mouths, you murmur in his ear “Levi… put it in…”

He inhales, mentalizing himself for what’s to come.

“Ok. Move up a bit.”

You do as you’re told, and he positions his erection at your entrance. The sensation of his tip prodding at your core fills you with anticipation, and you lower yourself on it. It’s pushing inside you, inch by inch, slowly. You two are desperate for it, but you won’t accelerate things.

His cock is finally buried inside you, as much as it can fit. It’s spreading your walls, throbbing, and you give yourself some time to adjust to its girth.

You feel stuffed, it’s thick and warm, a burning sensation runs through your body.

“MC… You feel so good inside. So wet and hot…” He sounds like he’s under a spell, enchanted, fascinated with how good it is.

“L-Levi…”

“C-Can I move?” He says, his next words murmured in your ear “Please, please. Let me fuck you.”

There’s no way you can refuse to that, not now, not in any universe. You kiss his lips and nod.

The movement is slow, taking most of it out before entering again, savoring the drag. You’re so close to him, enveloped by his arms while he thrusts from below. You kiss him while he sets a pace, whining into his mouth by the sensation.

It’s starting to feel like it’s not enough, so you start moving your hips, meeting him and matching his movements. The increase of friction gets to him, a moan escaping him as well.

His hands grab your ass, decided to guide the rhythm again, growing faster. Pleasure boils inside you, arching your back while you grind your hips against him. His pounds start getting erratic, desperate for your velvety heat.

It hits your core over and over again, deep, strong, your breath is shattered, his name on your lips coming out quietly, broken.

“Leviathan- Ah! It feels good, Levi- Ah!”

He pants, his voice is rasped as he speaks, “Fuck, MC, you feel so good. Please, let me go harder.”

“Yes, please go harder, please- Ah!”

You cry out as his tempo is ruthless, unrelenting, the dirty sounds of smacking flesh resonating through the walls. He fucks hard into you, chasing his pleasure into your warmth. You look down just a little and can see his cock disappearing into your body repeatedly, an indecent view only meant for you two. It’s hot as hell.

Even if you try to match the pace with your hips, you’re not in control at all. His movements are frenetic, desperate, his strong grip using you as he pleases. You have completely given up yourself to him.

You catch his expression, furrowed brows, lascivious eyes barely open, looking at your bodies merge into each other. It only makes you even more aroused, you want him like this so badly.

“Levi” Your voice comes out as a strangled noise. “Levi! I love you. I-I’m yours. Forever- Ah!”

Your sounds turn into choked sobs, no longer able to make proper words. He’s euphoric, groaning his words “You-You’re mine. Only mine. You belong to me, no one else!”

One of his hands go to your sex, fingers stimulating your clit with a strong, merciless pressure. It takes only a few seconds to send you over the edge, hitting your second orgasm of the night. You scream at the exploding pleasure, his thrusts hard as he comes too, whining loudly as your tight walls clench around him through his climax, emptying himself inside you. Your body convulses as the last of your orgasm hits you, and collapses above him.

He pants, matching your shaking breath. After some seconds, he pulls out, and you can feel his release leaking out of you. Ugh. Well, you can’t complain, you enjoy to do it like that as much as he does.

He lays down completely on the bed, taking your weak body with him, caging it protectively in his arms, as if he’s not ready to let you go yet, not after you told and proved him you belong to him.

Your erratic breathing needs to calm down. Resting above him, your fingers brush his chest while you relax, hugged tightly against him.

Some minutes must have passed. Your head is pressed against him, face directed at the window. His heartbeat echoes through his chest, and the sound of it is comforting. Your eyes are focused again, and you can see the lights of the city. They’re still on.

You’re not sure what time it is. Apparently, dawn is close to come, but the night seems to be extending only for you. You’re thankful that suddenly the time feels so slow. At this moment, you don’t need anything else, nothing that isn’t being right here with him.

He had been petting your hair for a while, his lips pressing into your forehead makes you lean to face him. He’s smiling, infatuated eyes looking at you.

“I think this is exactly what I wanted… hehe.”

You giggle too. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy with it. I love you, Levi.”

“I love you too. You’re everything to me, my best friend, my partner, my Henry.”

You lean to kiss him on the lips, a chaste one perfect for this moment.

“Well, once you’re feeling more… recovered, I’ll ask you to take me to the bathroom. I… really need to clean myself.”

“Oh? Oh! Sure. Shit, sorry, lmao.”

You chuckle at his clumsiness, and close your eyes for a while, relishing in the moment.

---

You wake up to the sensation of a late morning sunshine touching your face, curtains wide open since no one closed them the night before. It’s a nice, cozy sensation, though. You didn’t know how much you liked sunbeams until you found yourself missing them at the Devildom.

Levi’s pressed tightly against you; the night owl seems to be still in a deep slumber. Apparently, you were the big spoon. Somehow. Considering how tall he is compared to you. You like it anyways, his hair is smooth, violet locks softly decorating his peaceful features. The word for him right now could be… ethereal. Yes.

You remembered the spell is still active, so no sound comes from outside of your room. Do you need to lift it? His brothers (though, now they’re like your brothers too) might start making a fuss over some foolishness, not something you want to deal with right now.

It’s April 10th, time waits for no one, and his birthday is over. Today, you’re all heading back to the Devildom. You certainly can enjoy this moment for longer, right?

As if sensing your thoughts, Leviathan slowly wakes up, taking his time to shift and face you, eyes barely open but clearly focused on you.

“Hey… Good morning, love.” You murmur.

His words are mumbled “Good mornin’… Why are you awake…” He yawns. “You know it’s still morning, right?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to look at your cute, sleeping face.”

“W-What… Shut up!” He whines, hiding on your chest. You laugh at the silly interaction, how is he embarrassed by that after last night? He’s incredible. You kiss his temple, and after sensing his smile, you feel like you have the energy to start your day.

Another year together awaits.

thanks for reading 💖 likes and reblogs are appreciated.

#obey me leviathan #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me levi #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #leviathan smut #omswd #obey me x afab reader #Winter writes

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Note

joel begins the habit of picking up a book here and there, so during the reader’s birthday, he gifts her a book he read and annotated because that fucking shit is so cute

The Gift

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: F (no warnings besides elementary!joel being impossibly perfect, also didn’t proofread or edit!)

wc: <1k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

He was never much of a reader, not as a kid, definitely not as a teenager, and even in college he only read what he had to. When Sarah was born, he read to her every night, no doubt forming her love of books from an early age. As she grew up and the material grew with her, he attempted to read along but quickly found he much preferred non-fiction over the young adult novels she liked so much. But when he met you and consequently became roped into your weekly book club—starting with Sense & Sensibility—everything changed.

Now, he wanted to read, wanted to enjoy what you enjoyed, constantly searching the bookstore he’ take Sarah to every month for books he’d think you’d like so that he could gift you with something you hadn’t read before, not realizing just how much of a challenge that would prove to be.

Eventually, he stopped looking for books he thought you’d like and started simply shopping for himself. He was surprised at the collection he’d accumulated in the three years of being with you—of becoming a bookworm just like you and his daughter. He’d go through a book a week, often staying up past his bedtime when the material was gripping enough to warrant it. He’d even make little annotations in the margins, jotting down quick thought or connections to the earlier plot, but more often he wrote of how the text reminded him of you.

He found it near impossible to read fiction and not find glimpses of you in the sea of black print, detailed descriptions of a new spring day or pretty dialogue spoken between two lovers always pulling his mind to you. In the blank margins he’d write to you as if he planned for you to read them, as if it were a letter, “You’d roll your eyes at me if I said that.” and “You’re going to laugh, but I cried at this part while you were sleeping.” in messy cursive along the pages.

One night, a few weeks before your birthday, a lightbulb went off in his brain as he began to worry about what he was going to get you. You didn’t like much unnecessary shit, preferring he gifted you an outing, something that would make a memory for the two of you to share. You didn’t want jewelry, he knew that for certain after making the mistake of buying you a pricey necklace for your first anniversary only for you to order him to take it back and use the money to take you and his daughter to San Antonio for the weekend instead. But one physical luxury you never turned down was a new book. He’d already planned a trip to Houston for just the two of you as a surprise, but what if he also compiled a stack of his three favorite books to gift to you? It would satiate his desire to give you something physical, something from him, and you couldn’t complain because, “Baby I bought these for myself, and now they’re all written on so I can take ‘em back.”

The day approached, Joel waiting until right before you hopped in his truck before offering you a wrapped pyramid of books tied together with a ribbon, an expectant smile on his face as you eyed the gift with a look of delighted surprise.

“What’s all this?” you asked, accepting the books into your hand as you leaned back into he open frame of the passenger side door.

“A gift,” he shrugged. “Sarah wrapped it up all fancy.”

“I guessed,” you smirked, turning to set the books down on the passenger seat, your fingers slipping to loosen the bow holding them together before carefully tearing off the pastel blue floral print of the wrapping paper.

“S’just some books I liked,” he continued, a hint of nervousness and God, I hope you like this in his voice. “You probably already have copies.”

It was true, you already owned The Great Gatsby, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and Brave New World—Joel liked the classics best, it seemed—but yours didn’t feel as nice in your hands as Joel’s did. You liked the worn edges, the broken in spine, the rabbit ears that he made before you gifted him a bookmark from the school library. But most of all, you loved the scribbles of thoughts written over every plank space he could find, Joel’s words far more interesting and compelling than the book itself.

You studied all of them with awe, your eyes scanning the annotations quickly, seeing lots and lots of you in it. You were sure if you lingered to long on any single sentence you’d end up sobbing right there in the driveway, so you closed the book in your hand and set it down on top of the others before pulling Joel in tight.

“That was the best gift ever,” you mumbled as you held his face in your hands and pecked his lips. Joel grinned and backed you up against the side of the seat, pinning your body there while he gave you a real kiss, deep and slow, leaving you chasing after him when he pulled away.

“I love you,” he whispered through a smile.

“I love you.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller reader insert #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #elementary

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loverhymeswith · 9 months

Note

hello🙈 i’ve been thinking about a mini story based on “exile” by taylor swift with one tommy shelby… former lovers. shelby sees her at a party with a new beau and gets jealous (“i can see you starin honey, like he’s just your understudy, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me”) it’s a back and forth dialogue type song IDK i think it would be slay

Exile

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Summary: A familiar figure stirs up feelings you'd rather not face

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Mention of drugs.

A/N: Thank you Anon! I love this song and it fits Tommy SO well. Also, I wrote this on a beach. No idea how the setting ended up being NYE. Thank you @a-reader-and-a-writer for the beta read and the ending ❤️

I've added my existing taglist but please note this is not part of the Let’s Be Alone Together universe.

Him

It's fast approaching midnight at The Savoy Hotel. The dawning of the new year is almost within reach. Tommy Shelby drains his glass of champagne, wishing for whiskey instead as he slowly scans the room.

Tickets for the party tonight had been akin to gold dust, a chance to rub shoulders with the upper echelons of London's elite. But Tommy would rather be anywhere else in the world.

Preferably, Birmingham.

He'd take a bottle of homemade gin, tucked away in the quiet familiarity of Charlie's yard in a heartbeat over this stuffy champagne-fueled ballroom. But no one ever said success was easy.

Tommy had come here tonight for one reason and one reason alone. If his plans to move into the world of politics had any chance of coming to fruition, he would need to mingle with the privileged crowd. To learn their weakness. Their darkest secrets. To take advantage of the liquor loosening their lips.

He's managed to withstand maybe a handful of hours at best before growing tired of all the posturing and arrogance, the not-so-subtle self-aggrandising and the congratulatory back slaps.

Looking for a way out but willing to settle for a distraction, his gaze continues to drift along the sea of tuxedos and expensive dresses.

Unexpectedly, he falters.

These days, it takes a lot to catch Tommy Shelby off guard - between France and his more recent ventures, it would be fair to assume he had developed nerves of steel - but off guard is exactly how he feels when his attention lands on the beautiful woman standing by the bar.

He'd recognise her anywhere. Sometimes, he thinks he searches for her in his dreams.

Tommy feels the muscles in his jaw clench before he's able to compose himself. A foolish sign of weakness that he can’t afford to display. Not here.

But it's difficult. A test of his usually unwavering resolve. Because she's not alone.

There's a man. Younger than Tommy; tall, dark-haired, and slim, the old-money practically oozing off him. Any closer and Tommy would be able to smell it.

Tommy grabs another glass of too-sweet champagne from a passing waiter. Something to occupy his hands, and just in time. Old-Money's arms are wrapped around the woman's body, a possessive gesture and one he recognises well.

Once upon a time, she spent her nights in Tommy’s arms.

Five whole years might have passed - evidently long enough for her tastes to change - but it feels more like five minutes since she walked out of Small Heath and out of his life, a hastily scrawled note declaring she'd had enough.

Three simple sentences. One for each year they had been together. At the time, Tommy had replayed the words over and over until they no longer held any meaning, but liquor and bloodshed had long since turned those memories to slush.

It all boiled down to his plans for the future. Her fear of the potential enemies and danger which those plans might beget.

Whoever said that love would conquer all?

Tommy doesn't taste the sparkling wine as he tips the glass back, draining it in one mouthful.

The champagne just won't do. He needs something stronger to take the edge off, but his path to the bar is blocked.

Biding his time, Tommy watches the couple. In fact, despite the sourness growing in the back of his throat, he finds himself unable to look away.

Old-Money leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispers something that even Tommy’s lip-reading skills cannot decipher.

What is plain to see, however, is her lack of amusement. She tenses, discomfort evident in the clench of her jaw and the tightness of her shoulders. Her laughter, when it comes, is forced, never reaching her eyes.

A lightning bolt of unfiltered rage burns through Tommy’s veins, dulling his remaining senses like Arthur’s cocaine, but he quickly tempers it down. It’s not his problem. She's not his problem.

She's not his to defend.

Not anymore.

Her

It's almost midnight. Ever since your arrival at The Savoy, your attention has been drifting to the clock on the wall. Waiting for the bells to chime and free you from this misery.

The party had been his idea, your date for the evening clearly operating under the assumption that money makes a man more attractive. An assumption which couldn't be further removed from the truth.

Though The Savoy might be the hottest ticket in town, everything about tonight makes you miss Birmingham - Small Heath, to be precise. New Year's Eve at The Garrison. The excitement. The unpredictability.

The Peaky Blinders.

Your stomach involuntarily flips at the intrusive thought. You've come too far now to be thinking about the Shelby brothers. All memories pertaining to your former life belong firmly in the past.

Ignoring another pompous comment from your date, you glance up from your drink, desperate for an escape. Perhaps you can slip away in time to avoid the awkward but obligatory midnight kiss.

That's when you see him.

A ghost - a demon - from your past, seemingly conjured into existence by the power of your thoughts alone.

The very same piercing blue eyes that have long haunted your dreams now stare you down, unblinking, from across the room. His full lips are drawn into a hard line.

Thomas Shelby.

Despite your brain knowing far better, your traitorous heart still flutters.

He looks good. Too good.

Unfairly good.

The expensive dark suit is sinfully cut to his powerful body and his once-severe haircut has been allowed to somewhat grow out.

Clearly, he's come a long way since the days of bruised and bloody knuckles. In the presence of polite society, he looks like he belongs.

The last five years may have been kind to your former fiancé, but with a start, the realisation dawns that the same can't be said of you.

Because five years later you still haven't recovered from the incurable affliction of loving Tommy Shelby.

Despite what some might say, you hadn't walked into the relationship blind. You'd known the head of the Shelby family for long enough to accept that a life together would be full of surprises, and not all of them good. But for love, you'd given him half a dozen chances.

Honesty.

That's all you'd ever wanted. To be treated as his equal. His partner. To not be kept in the dark about decisions which could potentially put you both in harm's way.

Yet still he'd schemed and plotted. Twisted and manipulated. Deceived. He had told you it wasn't lying. That for your own safety, he was simply withholding the truth. As if that somehow made it ok.

Inevitably, after three years together, your patience reached its limit. Making good on a promise to yourself, you'd left, starting a new life for yourself in the capital, far away from the demons of Watery Lane.

But you'd been foolish to believe that any amount of miles could repair the damage done to your heart. Arguably, damage of your own making.

His name has followed you like an ever-present shadow. His handsome picture staring back at you from newspaper articles. Even in black and white, those beautiful eyes just added insult to injury.

And now he's here in the flesh.

Tommy's stare is unwavering, but he makes no move to come over. Still, it's only a matter of time before he seeks you out. After your cowardly way of leaving, it's easy to imagine he has some choice words for you, but you’re not ready to speak to him. Not here, where manners and decorum are all the rage.

Willing yourself to break eye contact, you notice a side door to your left. Relief washes over you. Freedom or at least a small reprieve. Anything is preferable to this form of slow torture.

Him

Tommy watches her leave - a recurring theme, it would seem - her hurried exit presumably on account of his unexpected presence here tonight. She definitely spotted him amidst the crowd and she did not look pleased.

He should let her go. She's not his problem. She's in his past.

Isn't she?

A minute passes before, not entirely of his own accord, Tommy finds himself following in her footsteps. He's always been inexplicably drawn to her. Apparently, even heartbreak isn't enough to change that.

When he finds her in the lobby, her back is turned but she whips around as he murmurs her name.

"Tommy."

The earlier surprise he saw flash across her delicate features has been replaced by a carefully rehearsed indifference. One he recognises all too well.

She's at pains to pretend his presence isn't affecting her. A feeling to which he can certainly relate.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight," she adds when he doesn't immediately respond. "I didn't think this kind of thing was your scene."

He doesn't miss the accusation in her tone.

What she really means is why are you here?

Slowly, Tommy inclines his head, lest she notice the falter in his gaze. Impossibly, she's even more beautiful than he remembers. It's surely a cruel twist of fate that brings her here tonight. Just when things were looking up for him. Just when he thought he'd put the past to rest.

"Likewise," he agrees.

"Business or pleasure?" She wonders aloud before scanning the lobby, keenly on the lookout for another escape route.

The words, driven by a lingering hurt, fly from his lips before he can check himself, his attention not so subtly shifting to the blonde woman entering the lobby. "There's no reason it can't be both."

Her

Of course, he followed you. It's a problem you could really do without. You're walking a thin line just by talking to him. Experience tells you there's only two ways this will play out.

Wondering whether there's any possibility of getting away unscathed, you offer him a polite smile and gesture towards the blonde woman now loitering in the corner. "Well, I'll leave you to your… pleasure."

He studies you carefully, his sharp features set into a cool mask of apathy, but you recognise the hurt hidden behind his icy eyes.

The hurt which you caused.

"I'd tell you the same, except I doubt your friend knows how to pleasure a woman. You looked miserable back there."

Despite the sentiment, there's no trace of concern in his cruel words.

"My choice of date for the evening isn't up for debate, Thomas," you tell him curtly, despite silently agreeing with his observation.

"Nothing ever is with you, is it?" he muses, his lips slightly pursing.

And there it is.

Clearly, he's not going to let you get away until he has aired his grievances.

Perhaps you owe him that courtesy at the very least.

Dropping your own mask of indifference, you take a step towards him and take his warm hand. To your surprise, he doesn't resist.

"I had to leave, Tommy. You were never going to turn things around. You were never going to change. But for what it's worth, I am sorry about leaving the way I did. I should have been better. I should have been braver."

Tommy shakes his head, keeping his tightly guarded emotions at bay. "You left without warning. You never even heard me out."

"Without warning? God, Tommy. How can you stand there and say that? How could you possibly have missed it? I left you so many signs."

Tommy looks away, his eyes rapidly searching for something just out of sight. The only indication he's feeling anything at all. "I guess I never learnt to read your mind."

"You never learnt to listen," you fire back. "Or communicate at all for that matter. Would it have killed you to be honest with me? To tell me what you had planned?"

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "I was trying to keep you safe."

The realisation that he's never going to change his tune stings more than it should. You drop his hand. "I wish I could believe that."

The truth, in your eyes, is that he never trusted you. He's never trusted anyone. How could you be expected to give your heart over to a man who would never let you into his own?

There's a beat of silence. Enough time for you to regret letting this conversation play out for so long. Nothing good can come from digging up the past. You should go your separate ways before any further irreparable damage is done.

"Was it worth it?" Tommy asks finally, a bite of frustration slipping through his calm facade. "Leaving everything behind for this?" He gestures around. "Are you happier now?"

"Yes," you lie, but your resolve is rapidly weakening under the intensity of his blue gaze.

The door to the ballroom swings open and a small gathering of revellers spills into the lobby, saving you from admitting the very thing you've been afraid of.

That leaving Birmingham had been a mistake.

Tommy reaches for your arm, tugging you away from the crowd and into a recess by the cloakroom. As a result, the two of you have infinitely closed the distance.

His chest, broad and still so inviting, is now inches from your own; his calloused hand is still wrapped firmly around your wrist, his thumb pressed against your pulse point.

Can he feel how fast your heart races?

"For all your talk of honesty, you won't face the truth yourself, will you?" He sighs lightly, something like disappointment coating his words.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You scoff, feigning ignorance as a last resort.

Before he can respond, a loud cheer erupts from within the ballroom, saving you once again.

"That's midnight," you murmur just as Tommy glances down at his elegant gold pocket watch.

"Midnight," he agrees, his eyes flicking back up to your own. "Happy New Year."

You stare at him for a long moment, taking stock of his defining features. Long, dark eyelashes, the kind that would ordinarily be wasted on a man - but not Tommy; razor sharp cheekbones and a jawline to match. Crystalline blue eyes you could so easily drown in.

Almost imperceptibly, he shifts closer, large hands finding your waist with ease.

"Do you still believe in tradition?" He wonders, but it's a rhetorical question. You both know he doesn't need an answer.

Your last sensible thought before he leans in to kiss you: God damn Tommy Shelby and those ocean eyes.

Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @crysxtal @shynovelist @amberpanda99 @globetrotter28 @dragonsondragons @butterfly-lover @sunshineyourethebesttime @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @breezy2and2freezy

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #Thomas shelby

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

the ache

billy hargrove x gn!byers!reader

word count: 625

warnings: grieving, mentions of death, post the battle of starcourt

a/n: um, so…i just wrote this in thirty minutes, give or take. it’s a bit of dialogue that i’ve been kind of toying with in my head for a few days, and here i am, at one in the fucking morning, writing this. i’m sorry in advance. (also for context, none of the season three hopper death shit happened.) i love you all. <3333

————

When you don’t show for dinner, Joyce knows exactly where you are.

There’s no guesswork, or calling around. She knows.

She knows because she’s been where you are. And she knows you shouldn’t be alone.

She remembers when Hopper had come and sat on the floor in front of her without a word. It had settled something inside of her, that small gesture. Sure, it hadn’t soothed the ache—nothing could do that, nothing but time—yet it had helped. It felt like a breath of fresh air.

Joyce parks the car, and makes her way to where she stood all those months ago as they lowered him into the ground.

You’d been silent then. She wasn’t sure you were breathing, really. And when they’d finished, when the funeral was over, you’d just stood there. And she’d waited until you made your way to the car, and she took you home. Anything for her baby.

————

The grass is chilly under your palms, where you’re desperately ripping the blades up and flinging them to the sides. There might be two sparse patches left by the time you’re finished, but that’s okay. It’ll grow back.

Your face is wet. You gave up on wiping it dry long ago.

When you hear footsteps behind you, you don’t even have to turn because you know exactly who it is. Who’s come for you.

You start to cry again, but this time it’s worse. This time you’re sobbing.

Joyce sits down beside you, settling on her knees.

You look up at her, but you can’t really see her because your eyes are filling with tears and blurring your vision.

“Oh, baby,” Joyce says. She runs her hand over your leg.

You cry out. You’re practically wailing. It hurts, you’ve noticed. It’s like an ache, and it won’t leave. It stays.

You look away from her and at his headstone. William Hargrove, it reads.

That’s all he is now, a plot. A marker. A memory.

“Mama.” Joyce never takes her eyes off of you. Seeing you like this fills her with an immense grief, and she wants nothing more than to make it all go away. To fix it. To kiss it better.

“Mama, I miss him.”

A sob wrenches free from your throat, and you’re wiping desperately at your face again because now she’s here and she can see you at your weakest. But it’s no use, so you let it come.

“My baby,” you cry.

Images of Billy flash through your mind: sitting with him in the staff room while it rained one day at the pool and no one could swim, helping him get a tangle out of his hair, kissing him on the cheeks just to see him blush.

He’s gone. He’s never coming back. Your Billy is dead.

“Mama, please.”

You don’t know why you’re begging, but you are. And you keep begging, like it’s going to fix something. It’s not.

Please what? Please bring my boyfriend back. Please undo what happened that night. Please let him be safe. Please.

Joyce wraps her arms around your shoulders and you cling to her like you’re afraid she’ll disappear too. Like she’ll be in the ground and you’ll be sitting and crying out for her just as you are now.

You’re not sure how long you cry for, but she lets you for as long as you need.

And when you’re done, you go home and lay in bed. You slip on one of his shirts, and you think about him.

You cry some more, and try to remember something Hopper told you after he’d taken you out of the mall that night.

“That feeling never goes away. But everyday it does get a little easier.”

You hope he’s right.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove ficlet #billy hargrove angst #billy stranger things fic #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x byers!reader #billy hargrove x gn!byers!reader #byers!reader #joyce byers #jim hopper #savannah’s fics

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missholland · 3 months

Text

Farewell, a place once called home!

I was homebound this week for an illness recovery, and thought it was the perfect time to rewatch one of my ultimate comfort shows: The Untamed.

Some people watch stuff once. Some people religiously rewatch their favs because they discover something new each time. I'm certainly part of the latter clan, and I cannot believe I never wrote about Wei Wuxian (WWX)'s post-resurrection return to Lotus Pier before.

The second half of episode 45 throughout episode 46 is quite a journey on its own right: the setting, the aesthetics, the dialogue, the emotional weight as one of the biggest secrets finally came to surface.

A very long rambling analysis ahead so bear with me!

Considering the latter half of episode 45 was mostly consumed with Si Si and Bi Cao exposing Jin Guangyao (JGY)'s dark past, there were only a couple of Lotus Pier moments that worth mentioning.

As WWX and Lan Wangji (LWJ) walked through the entrance of Lotus Pier, I was immediately taken back to what WWX said to LWJ in episode 6 when they were healing their injuries in the Cold Spring. WWX asked LWJ to come visit him in Lotus Pier one day, and I bet the circumstance they eventually found themselves in episode 45 was far from what WWX thought the visit would have been like.

Let's also take another step back to episode 34, where Jiang Cheng (JC) interrogated WWX. WWX admitted that he wanted to go back to Lotus Pier even in his dream, but at the time, he had probably given up all hopes of ever making that come true.

What else is there? His master and madam died, his disciple elder sister Yanli died, he got expelled from his own clan. It was virtually impossible to prepare WWX for the event of episode 45 where he actually got to walk into Lotus Pier again.

Let's now cruise into the main event - episode 46! Fed up with how the big clan meeting went following the revelation of JGY's wrongdoings, WWX and LWJ stepped away from the front room and made their way around Lotus Pier. They were likely just wandering around at the time, as their concentration was totally occupied with finding out who might be the mastermind trying to expose JGY. Then again, it might as well be WWX's muscle memory as they somehow ended up right in front of the ancestral hall.

Despite initial hesitation, WWX eventually decided to come in and paid respect to his Master, Madam and Yanli along with LWJ. It's not the first time we saw this incredibly tranquil and beautiful room. It really was WWX's most frequently visited room, whether it was being punished by Madam Yu (story apparently travelled all the way to Gusu) or having heartfelt conversation with Yanli. WWX telling LWJ his childhood stories inside the ancestral hall was probably the most mundane sequence during this whole ordeal, and a small moment of normality for WWX before our resident killjoy JC walked in.

Yes JC, we know it's your house but surely yelling in the middle of the ancestral hall whether your family was resting in peace isn't a very good idea? Our WWX certainly didn't expect any less from all the unpleasantness coming out of JC's mouth, as since forever he only let his anger do the speaking and not the common sense. LWJ was ready to have a showdown, but WWX calmly told him to stand down and let it go.

But did JC let it go too? Of course not. He was irritated by WWX's calmness and tried to spill some more frustration to get the other to react. He clearly picked the right route to go down on by picking on LWJ and Wen Ning (WN). Worse, he proceeded to single out LWJ and insulted his commitment to WWX.

That prompted WWX to yell out JC's courtesy name Jiang Wanyin, a name we didn't hear very often throughout the show but in this instance it was most memorable, especially coming from WWX. That itself drew a clear boundary in their relationship at that moment, from brothers to mere acquaintances in the cultivation world.

WWX wasn't afraid to ask a proud JC to apologise, but all JC was gonna do is pushing the button even more. He took a very personal swipe at their confidant/soulmate-ship that led WWX to, quite uncharacteristically, violently held JC's collar.

Our dearest is giving JC what he wants! Although to be perfect honest, I thought it was quite hilarious that JC for whatever reason was confident he could take on both of them. WWX possibly since he wasn't at his finest during that moment, but prime LWJ though...?

Thankfully, WWX looked up and saw Yanli's name. He knew very well it would break Yanli's heart seeing the two of them like this. He's gotta be the bigger person (and fair enough, he's already knackered from being the lure flag for the puppets). As our beloved couple once again tried to leave in peace, JC decided to make it as hard as possible for them. Here he is, triggering LWJ's angry lover protector mode.

I love the swift but determined arm push LWJ did to JC a second after this to get him off WWX, then right away his expression transitioned back into anxious lover worrier mode. LWJ didn't even give JC a second look. He promptly escorted WWX away but was still super alerted to give JC a good old Piss Off for STILL ONCE AGAIN not letting it go.

Let's take a moment to admire this bittersweet yet romantically charged frame before getting the tearfest started.

Now, our sweet baby WN just flew in with WWX's Suibian sword, got a couple of hits from JC's Zidian but was still determined to stand tall and asked JC to unseathe Suibian. JC was angry and confused, LWJ was probably also angry and confused, WWX has fainted, so now WN is the only sane one and the voice of reason. His cold lack of reaction (because he wasn't surprised at all) placing next to a shocked pikachu LWJ and confusingly mortified JC was the perfect comparison.

LWJ's face tells me that as soon as he saw JC taking out Suibian, he was already somewhat fearing the reason behind it. He hasn't quite reached the destination yet, but he was on the way. After all, he's one of the most intelligent and knowledgeable characters in the story thanks to his sect's education. His eyes made it look like he was holding on a tiny glimpse of hope that maybe it's not true, maybe it's not the worst case scenario, but it was certainly mixed with fear that it might be.

It's very different from JC who's just completely out of the loop, no hint of any possibility that he might be able to work out what happened. If WN wasn't there to SPELL IT OUT, JC would just remain angry and confused for the rest of the episode.

As JC is still in deep denial, and WN precisely recounted the event on the mountain in great details where JC was tricked to go find Baoshan Wanderer who could fix his core, LWJ only had eyes on WWX. His ears were listening to everything WN said too, but his focus was on WWX while he did his own reflection on how he reacted to WWX abandoning swordsmanship in the past (the same way JC did).

All the burning questions LWJ had inside his head - why WWX no longer carried Suibian, why he made all these excuses to not get back into practicing swords, why he took on crafty tricks, why he had a change in personality and demeanour, why he behaved so strangely after getting Suibian back - they are finally answered. But in the most unimaginably painful and heartbreaking way. LWJ's trembling face and tears scream PAIN, the pain you feel when you know someone you love is in pain, but you are also aware that whatever you feel is only 1/10000 of their actual suffering.

Pain and anger come together time to time, and LWJ has heard enough. He just wanted to get WWX out of here, out of this hell of a truth. He made his feeling known by stamping Bichen loudly on the ground and took WWX away, once and all.

Our baby WN really shined here. He wrapped up this dreadful revelation by daring JC to find anyone who can unsheathe Suibian, but not before hitting him with possibly the last thing any human being as competitive and eager to win like JC wanted to hear - did you know you were supposed to beneath your disciple older brother forever?

WN kept his head down and let out a sigh. He knew he shouldn't have done it since he promised WWX, but that was as much as he knew he had to do so. His guilt toward WWX was starting to hit him, but it was also obvious that a huge burden has been lifted off his shoulders.

We're now getting to the end of WWX's unexpectedly eventful return to Lotus Pier. Without JC's unreasonable pot-stirring screaming, we're finally given a lovely shot of Lotus lake at night with LWJ ensuring WWX's body not leaving his caring touch. I don't think we've had a proper conversation between LWJ and WN up to this point, and what makes it so special is that it's a genuine exchange between the only 2 people left who deeply care about WWX - a lonely anti-hero who's been walking alone on his deeply misunderstood journey for so long that it lasted through 2 lives.

Sweet WN also thanked LWJ for taking care of A Yuan and we got to learn about how LWJ managed to save A Yuan back then. It was sad but heartwarming knowing that WN was content with not disclosing A Yuan's past to him, as he's had a happy childhood and blessed life thanks to LWJ. Although, he acknowledges that eventually A Yuan would find out, just like JC did about his golden core.

Now as the conversation circled back to the golden core swap, LWJ asked WN a question that truly, you only ask when it's about someone you love. 'Is it painful?'. Not 'How did Wen Qing do it', but was it painful for WWX. What was the feeling he had, what was the pain he suffered, what was it like. It's not a sympathy question. It's something you want to know and empathise when your loved one goes through hard time. It's such a deeply specific and personal question, because when the person you love is in pain, you are too. You even want to feel it too, and LWJ is no stranger to that if we recall him leaving the same burn mark on his left chest as WWX had. Shame that this detail was never explained in the show.

As WN described:

'He should be sober enough to see the golden score which connects to the spiritual vein be separated from his body and feel the spiritual power die down little by little, until it is motionless and nothing can be felt'.

You can feel LWJ's pain peak as he was told WWX remained awake for 2 nights and 1 day with only 50% chance of success. As someone who deep down admires his soulmate's talent from a young age, what could be worse than having to hear that his other half had accepted to be mediocre for the rest of his life and never ascend to the top as he could have easily done?

Poor WWX regained conscious and realised where he was. Unsurprisingly, all of his Lotus Pier memories were tied with Yanli and he's overwhelmed by the image of her and flashback of their time together. What is home to WWX, the one who was trying his hardest to grow lotus somewhere as deadly as Burial Mounds? JC was his family, but not anymore. Yanli is no longer around, but till her death, she remained his family. She might have had married into Jin clan, but she embodied everything about Lotus Pier. Yanli is home. Yanli is Lotus Pier.

Seeing Yanli die at Nightless City was saying goodbye to the last person on earth who cared about WWX (or so he forgot about LWJ), which pushed him to giving up on his own life. So is Lotus Pier still home without Yanli? Is there even home without Yanli? WWX was barely treated like a proper guest at Lotus Pier. He was just someone who knew the way around, as home no longer hold the same meaning as it once did.

Lovely WWX was finally jolly again at the possibility of snacking on some tasty lotus seeds he must have missed dearly. Yet his little happiness was seemingly switched off by the rigid rule follower LWJ. If anything I was surprised that WWX agreed to give up the lotus seeds that quickly, of course not without sulking in disappointment.

But all of this only make the following moment even more glorious and poignant: the high and mighty LWJ who grew up obeying 3000 rules at Gusu Lan Sect literally picked a lotus with his own hand and give it to his soulmate, much to his shock and confusion.

At first I thought Well that's the least LWJ could do, has WWX not suffered enough, would a few (hundreds) lotus seeds matter that much. He's been in pain, he needs to be coddled and spoiled till the end of the world! So LWJ willing to break one tiny rule (tiny, comparing to all the others he broke because of WWX already) is a well deserved comfort that WWX needs.

But then it also hit me - it is an example of making compromise in a healthy relationship. WWX used to hold on to his wine and was willing to put up a fight for it, most of the time against LWJ himself. So why was it so easy to him to just have an awkward chuckle and drop the lotus seeds as LWJ didn't want to break a rule?

WWX compromised, as you would in a partnership. You don't have it your way all the time, you work together toward the same goal and there are times you're willing to put your partner's values above your own benefit. WWX, despite not fully happy about the decision, still agreed to give us the lotus as LWJ was uncomfortable. And in return, LWJ was okay with putting WWX's needs above his ingrained principle about 'stealing'. At the end of the day, it's not about winning or losing in a relationship. You win together and you lose together.

We really are spoiled with lotus romance in this episode!

But maybe... just maybe... LWJ doesn't know whether WWX would ever get a chance to return to Lotus Pier. Should this be the last ever opportunity, he would probably rather WWX's final memory of the visit not being JC's anger and resentment. In return, it is a rare carefree moment on Lotus lake, one his WWX's favourite places, eating lotus seeds with the only 2 people who still care so much about him and willing to go to the end of the world for him.

If this is meant to be a farewell to a place WWX once called home, while LWJ couldn't change the unfortunate circumstance that led to this challenging visit, he at least has done his best to give it a drama-free peaceful ending for the person he loves dearly.

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 10 months

Note

yellow rose with idia? ^^

Idia Shroud:

Yellow Rose - a happy thought that causes a smile.

Today was a day to celebrate memories.

Idia awkwardly fumbled with his tie, feeling it was so tight it might strangle him. Ortho had checked at least three times and confirmed it was fine, but had since left the room to focus on other tasks that needed to be done. Idia had practically thrown him out as the constant reminder of his quickened pulse and high blood pressure only made his anxiety feel worse. He could only stare at himself in the mirror for so long, though he did admire his handiwork as his hair was neatly braided with his brushed aside to prevent his face from being covered. There weren’t many stylists gifted with the ability to style cursed hair and he’d really rather do it himself anyway.

Today was too important for anything to go wrong.

“It’s time!” Ortho floated into the room with an excited look on his face, gesturing to the hall where there would be many people awaiting his arrival. It made his knees knock together as he’s about to be thrown into an ultra-stressful situation, like he was desperately climbing ladders and avoiding barrels to reach a princess who didn’t even want him.

But you did want him, because how else would he have ended up here?

He has a lot to thank Ortho for, including the embarrassing situation that had got you here to begin with. They had been playing a silly little otome game together, meaning Idia was on a CG collecting journey and Ortho was helping him remember which path led where. There was a scene between two main characters where a note was exchanged, something very juvenile with a ‘do you like me, y/n?’ written on it.

“Have you ever tried that?” Idia was carefully reading the dialogue, making sure there were no flags being raised that he was on the wrong route and thus locked out of a precious CG that constantly eluded him due to the specific choices that had to be done in a very specific order and—

“Tried—Eh?” Idia hit his keyboard and accidentally began to skip already seen dialogue, panicking and back tracking to his previous save while Ortho patiently waited next to him. “Wh-what are you saying?”

“Writing a note!” Ortho pointed at the screen where a crudely drawn note was, suddenly looking around the room as he tried to find a physical example for Idia to use. It took some snooping but he found a few crumpled pieces of paper with madman scrawling on only half of it, tearing it apart and handing over the blank piece. “Ask them if they like you, and then I can deliver it! If they say no, you don’t even have to see them!”

It wasn’t like Ortho to indulge in his brother’s extreme introvert nature, and Idia was nearly swayed before remembering it could also implode the fragile balance of his online friend group. You, him, and Crimson Muscle made a formidable group, often being enough to on most raids together so he didn’t have to interact with other idiots online. It was much less painful to speak with you through a screen, knowing he could erase a message over and over until he got it just right. He couldn’t sacrifice that, could he?

He should’ve known Ortho’s mercy was only temporary.

Idia was forced out of the solitude of his room, a luncheon being held to celebrate the hard work of each dorm leader being held. He’d rather eat his own hands than celebrate but Crowley wouldn’t budge, persistent and irritating about the whole ordeal. The only good part was seeing your face in high-def rather than via a pixelated avatar online. He still didn’t sit directly across from you but diagonal was good enough for him; not the center of your attention but just within your peripheral where you could notice him.

“Psst, brother! I brought it!” Idia has a piece of paper hastily shoved into his hand, “I wrote it last night! Now you can give it to them in person for an even quicker response!”

He’s suddenly certain the entire world is conspiring against him, trying not to attract your attention as he frantically responded to Ortho.

“That won’t work!”

“Why not?” Ortho tilted his head in a clueless gesture, “In 4 out of the 6 good ends, the note is the pivotal moment in all of them! The Bad End only triggered if you didn’t build up your characters confidence enough to pass the note in class!”

Ortho is just quiet enough that you can’t make out exactly what he’s saying but you can hear him speaking, your eyebrows raised as you looked at the Shroud brothers. Idia saw the dialogue options appear before his very eyes as reality blended with video games for a moment: he could either pass the note to you now and accept the consequences or allow Ortho to reveal it was from the plot of some 3-star Otome game since he wasn’t creative enough to come up with his own way to confess.

He had tossed the paper at you, watching it land right in your half-open bag before he dashed, moving quicker than his physical body had ever moved before. He’d personally expel himself if Crowley tried to drag him back out of his room, he’d just take his parents business over and that’d be the end of that. He didn’t know how long he’d been curled up on his bed, face in his pillow as he considered just smothering himself rather than facing the light of day again. Life’s built-in autosave meant his fate was sealed and, somehow, he felt even more cursed than before.

Until a note slipped under his door, the side the writing was on turned upward so he could see it from his bed.

A little ‘y’ circled in red ink had led to this.

A grand hall decorated with flowers, STYX employees in their finest clothing filling most of the seats, the smell of expensive but most likely delicious foods just waiting to steal everyone’s attention away. When Idia entered the room he could see some of his and your family, along with a few friends dotted throughout but he can’t look for long as he felt like he might pass out.

He stood tall at the front of the room, glancing at the entry way anxiously, like he was truly afraid a too big primate would come through beating his fists on his chest and kidnapping his lover. He had been in a position like this before, albeit less willingly, and he began to understand now why it was so important to put his feelings out there even with the chance of rejection. A bell chimes and the music begins, and Idia can’t wipe the smile from his face.

The pointed grin remained even as you approached, your expression mirroring his as you smiled right back; he suspected by the end of the night his cheeks would ache with how happy he was, but he supposed he could put up with it for a day, for you.

#Twisted Wonderland #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Disney TWST #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Scenario #Flower Prompts

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training4theapocalypse · 5 months

Text

a fine wee lass, a bonnie wee lass ch.1

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 2k

Warnings / Tags: Smut, infidelity, size difference, references to previous underage romance (when they were both teens).

Summary: You're the bridesmaid at your brother’s wedding and his best man, John MacTavish is back in town. You just hope he doesn't remember when you last saw him, when you tried with all your might to stop him from joining the army.

A/N: I've not played COD since like 2012 but I keep seeing clips of Soap on TikTok and my wee Scottish heart just fancies the pants off him. This is inspired by a Scottish folk song called 'Bonnie Wee Jeannie McCall'. The dialogue is written in Scots - I hope you can follow along.

ALSO I just found out about @glitterypirateduck’s challenge by a happy accident the day after I wrote this and this fits nicely into:

Prompt 28: They don't need to know

Masterlist (there’s no other COD stuff here sorry)

Chapter 1: The first night I met her she was awfy, awfy shy

You pull your shawl around you as you stand outside the old castle. Rain lashes down across the sprawling Falkirk countryside while revellers laugh from the wedding inside. The music hasn’t started yet - you think that you’re safe to have a breather before you need to go inside for the first dance.

You stand as close to the wall as you can, taking cover from the rain. Your pink satin shoes are getting soaked. Not that it matters. The shoes your brother’s new wife chose for her bridesmaids are so ugly it’s unlikely you’d have worn them again anyway. But she’ll be fuming when she sees the state of them.

The door to the castle opens behind you and you move over, dodging a puddle to let the newcomer seek the shelter of the castle wall too.

“Awryt, darlin?” asks a voice and you look up from the puddle at your feet to see John MacTavish, your brother’s best man, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “I didnae think you smoked.”

“I don’t,” you say, putting your vape to your lips and raising your eyebrows once.

He pulls a sour face. “Them? They’re fulla chemicals and like, mercury, and that.”

“Oh aye? What’s in these? Vitamins?” you ask, flicking the pack of cigarettes in his hand with a forefinger. “You didnae smoke afore joinin’ the army.”

“Aye, well, I was sixteen when you last saw me. And you were, whit, twelve?”

“Fifteen, John.”

There’s only a year between you and your big brother, Tam. But the way he and John treated you, you’d have thought there was a decade between you. Acting like you were an annoying wee tag-along. You just wanted to be included from time to time.

But that was ten years ago. Last time you saw John, he was just a boy, and you, just a lass. But now he’s older, with a scar on his chin that’s only highlighted by his coarse, dark stubble. The scar cuts across the hair there like white lightning. He’s taller, and broader than when you last saw him and his hair is shaved much shorter and neater than the teenage John you remember.

“Aw, aye. I mind now. You and your pals had wangled your way intae the sixth-year leavers’ gaff. As usual.”

“Did I? Any excuse for a drink back then, I s’pose.”

“Aye, but I remember ‘cause I wis leavin’ in a few days for the army. And you were -” He cuts himself off suddenly.

“I was whit?” a smile cracks across your face, waiting to hear his description of how you looked that night. Beautiful? Stunning? Mesmerising? You see yourself as you had been - your hair perfectly straightened, your Oh Polly bandage dress hugging your form in all the right places. In your memory, you were the embodiment of a siren. You had dolled up that night to impress the older boys. Or, if you were honest, one particular older boy.

“Well, I mean,” he says putting a cigarette between his lips and flicking his lighter. The orange glow briefly illuminates his face, casting shadows that seem to momentarily harden his features, making you remember he’s no longer a boy of sixteen but a man of twenty-six. “You were absolutely gantin’ for it.”

Your mouth falls open and you hit his arm.

Mortifying.

“Whit? Fae you? Aye, right !” you say, sarcastically but your face flushes bright red, immediately giving you away. You might have been drunk but John MacTavish rejecting your drunken advances as a teenager was probably the defining moment of your formative years.

As your words, brushing off his teasing, hang in the air, the jolt of embarrassment reminds you of a different party.

On that fateful night, ten years ago, the music was much louder. The floor was littered with empty cans and bottles and you’d ‘accidentally on purpose’ bumped into John in the hallway before pulling him into someone’s parents’ bedroom. You’d recklessly thrown your arms around him.

“Woah, woah, woah. What you daen?” he’d whispered in a panic.

“Please, Johnny,” you’d slurred drunkenly. “I dunno when I’ll see you again. Somethin’ tae remember me by.”

You had leaned in to kiss him but he turned his head. You were so drunk you didn’t care. You sucked on his neck, feeling that dark stubble under your sloppy tongue as your hand found his cock in his jeans.

But he’d stopped you in your tracks. Pinned your arms to the side. He was stronger than you, even as a teenager.

“Naw, look, I cannae,” he had said. And even though your eyes could barely focus on his, you could tell he was annoyed at you. But you didn’t care. You just wanted him so badly.

“Aw, come on, John. Please? I’ll show you my tits,” you had said. “I’ll - I’ll go the full way. I’ll do anythin’. Just - just don’t leave, awryt?”

The sound of cheers from the reception hall cuts through your memory and snaps you back to your current, rainy surroundings.

“Aye, well, I was probably just dreamin’,” says present-day John. “It probably never happened.”

It’s considerate of him, to pretend that it never happened.

But no matter how hard you try to pretend, there’s no denying that you made a fool of yourself, plain and simple.

Sometimes late at night when you can’t sleep, the memory makes you cringe as you replay that embarrassing moment. You try and cut yourself some slack, remind yourself that you were just a desperate, heartbroken teenager who’d drunk half a bottle of vodka working up the courage to make the move she’d always thought about. Begging John not to join the army. Begging John to fuck her.

He had declined both requests.

But that doesn’t matter because you’re a fully grown woman now. One that hasn’t spent more than a second thinking about John MacTavish coming home for her brother’s wedding. No, sir. Not one second. Definitely not.

You exhale a laugh like it’s a funny memory. “Maybe it did happen. I cannae really remember, I must have been steamin’ drunk,” you say. But you know what happened. He knows what happened. And he knows you know.

John's response comes with a delay, his chuckle soft and tinged with a hint of meaningful self-deprecation, to try and frame some of the embarrassment back onto himself. “You must’ve been steamin' to have tried it on wae the likes of me. You were always far too good for me,” he laughs, but this time his smile doesn’t quite reach those bright blue eyes.

There’s a long silence as you say nothing. With a deliberate motion, you bring the vape to your lips, inhaling deeply, the action grounding you back to the here and now as the artificial kiwi-passionfruit-guava fills your lungs with something that you know must be bad for them. As you exhale, your gaze drifts down to your soaked shoes, the pink satin darkened by the rain. They’ve changed beyond recognition.

“Woah,” he coughs his own puff of smoke. “Now just whit is that ?” asks John, his eyes clocking your left hand.

You tilt your hand subtly, letting the diamond catch the cloudy daylight. “Did Tam no mention it?” The words linger between you, almost casual. “I’m engaged, John.”

For a moment, John just stares at your hand, his face unreadable. Then, a low whistle escapes him, a mix of surprise and something unspoken. He glances up at you, his eyes searching yours for the answer to a question that he doesn’t voice. “Engaged, eh? Tam never said a word.” His gaze shifts away, a frown creasing his forehead. “Where’s the lucky man the night?”

“He’s offshore the now - he works on the rigs.”

“Christ, I’ll say,” says John, taking your hand and examining your ring. “He’d need tae be workin’ in oil for a big rock like this wan.”

Your hand feels small in his. His thick brows soften from a frown when he pulls his gaze up from your engagement ring to meet your eyes. His eyes are blue and full of a warmth that you wouldn’t expect from someone who, from Tam’s account, is a hardened soldier.

Your heart thuds in your chest when you realise that he’s been holding your hand for too long. But you don’t retract it.

“Aww the best tae the happy couple, then,” he says softly. “I suppose Tam never telt me ‘cause he had a lot to be dealing wae his own wedding and that.” John lets go of your hand. “Dae you no miss your fella, wae him being offshore?”

“Four weeks on, two weeks off. I see him plenty… More than your missus sees you, I expect. How often d’you come home? Once or twice a year?”

“I’ve no got a missus so I don’t need tae worry about that.”

The raucous laughter from inside the wedding venue dies down suddenly. And you hear the master of ceremonies announcing the entrance of the bride and groom.

“Gads,” says John, stubbing out his half-finished cigarette.

“If we miss the first dance, we’re fucked,” you say. “I’ll never hear the fuckin’ end of it.”

You try to carefully step over the puddle - John takes your arm and holds on to you so you don’t fall. He opens the oak door for you but as you’re about to pass, he grips you tighter, stopping your movement.

“Listen, darlin’, there are some things that are just off-limits,” he says, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in your ear as he leans close. He smells like cigarettes - normally that smell would turn your stomach but there’s something sweet in his aftershave, like vanilla, that makes the tobacco smell musky and warm.

“Meanin’?” You look up at him, confused.

“The last time I saw you,” he murmurs. “You were mad wae it. I couldnae, in good conscience, take you up on that offer when you were that drunk. And you’re my best pal’s wee sister tae boot. I couldnae dae that tae Tam.”

“John, that was - that was a long time ago. It was nothin’.”

“And now,” he continues. “Now you’re engaged. Which means you’re even more off-limits.”

Off-limits?

He’s talking like you’re in that bedroom again, begging for his attention. Except you’re not. You’re not begging for John again. He’s just assuming that you’re about to.

That presumptuous bastard.

“You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, John MacTavish. Who are you tae try and let me down gently? It’s been ten years and I’m no even slightly interested in you anymore.”

“Naw, I know,” he says, refusing to match your volume or tone of indignation. “I’m just tellin’ you out loud why I won’t be trying it on with the most beautiful lassie in the room. And why I said no back then, as well.”

“Haul! You two!” You and John spring apart to see your tiny, furious wee auntie storming down the hallway. “You’re missing your brother’s first dance with his new wife and you’re both supposed to be on the dancefloor.”

“We - we are?” you stammer.

“Aye, did you no hear the emcee telling the wedding party to join the bride and groom? That means bridesmaids and groomsmen, ya pair of glaikit idiots. Your maw’s fuckin’ ragin’”

And with that, John lets the door behind you swing shut and you both leg it past your auntie to the reception room, with you leaving wet footprints in your wake as you go. The music from the room swells into clarity as you burst through the doors and skid inelegantly onto the dancefloor.

Your brother and his wife are too absorbed in their own happiness to have noticed your late entry and you breathe a sigh of relief. But it’s short-lived. You immediately stiffen again when John takes your waist and you realise that he’s your dance partner.

As the two of you begin swaying to the music, your mind races. You’re no longer that sad, rejected teenager, yet here, in John's reassuring grasp, you feel the ghost of her stirring. His gaze is careful, and guarded, but there's still that question in his eyes that he’s forbidden to ask.

And behind your own eyes, you can’t help the stream of curses going off inside your head.

You curse your nerves for being the reason you got so drunk at that party.

You curse John for being Tam’s best man.

But most of all, you curse yourself as you watch your left hand rest on John’s shoulder as you dance, the giant diamond ring glittering like a heavy disco ball.

#scotland forever #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #task force 141 #smut #soap cod #soap mw2 #john mactavish x reader #burns night #cod fic #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #soapitup

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the-owl-tree · 6 months

Note

genuine question bc I haven’t read the books since. Idk a long time, why do ppl hate nightcloud so much?? I have literally only ever heard of her as an afterthought. Like she’s the third choice for crow feather bc he needed to take a mate to not be seen suspicious and just picked her, there’s no love between them, and afaik he basically forced her to raise her son by herself, not counting the moments of attention he DID give which seemed to be overwhelmingly negative and even abusive. Isn’t she allowed to be bitter and that when he’s very clear abt his apathy and even resentment toward her and her son?? Or am I missing some context

People took Crowfeather passing the blame onto Nightcloud for Breezepelt's behavior at face value, despite two arcs worth of books proving that wasn't true at all. I'd argue the writing team ALSO believed this, as with how they characterized her in the subsequent Field Guides. Immediately, Nightcloud's past actions were re-contextualized to be negative, to further push this idea that she was this old coddling bitch mom who didn't let poor Crowfeather be involved with his son (look at the language of the field guides, they genuinely wrote "she should be glad to be alive").

Crowfeather was (and in some circles still is) a pretty popular character, and a lot of people were quick to latch onto the idea that he was blameless. I can't remember if CrowPool was or wasn't a popular ship, I lean towards yes, so take this line with the knowledge my memory is fuzzy, but I'd also argue that Nightcloud being the "replacement" mate was what made people even more hostile to her.

So, what is Nightcloud actually like? I'm only going to cover scenes where Nightcloud is either mentioned or actually appears, so no Outcast, click the first link for a better look at that. I'll only cover Po3 and OoTS for now.

Nightcloud's Appearances in the Power of Three

Our first meeting with her is in The Sight, where ThunderClan intervenes when they're being chased around by a dog. Her first piece of actual dialogue is her defending Breezepaw from Crowfeather, which is not coddling, especially when given the added context in Outcast that Crowfeather is verbally abusive towards his son. She also proceeds to lecture him about his manners towards a ThunderClan cat, so, she's not the one encouraging his rude streak.

She is then absent for most of the book until the end, when during one of the contests at the Daylight Gathering, Lionpaw and Breezepaw get hurt in a collapsed tunnel incident and she understandably is quite distressed. Then Leafpool drops the "i'd give every drop of my blood for you Crowfeather" line and Nightcloud just tries to divert attention from that, understandably uncomfortable with what's being said.

One of the scenes that's commonly used as "evidence" that Nightcloud stopped Crowfeather from bonding with Breezepelt is this one:

No hissing or swatting. She just doesn't let him help, and considering we now know Crowfeather has been absent from the beginning and isn't above hitting and screaming at his kid, I think it's understandable that she arguably isn't going to stop just so he can help. But that's my interpretation, I think this scene in itself proves nothing of the sort either way and people were reaching when trying to use it as evidence.

Nightcloud's remaining appearances in The Sight is her watching over Breezepaw and Lionpaw as they recover:

That is the entirety of her appearance in The Sight. Onto Dark River! Where her first mention is Leafpool identifying her and Jaypaw sensing some jealousy from Leafpool, as the patrol is going to check in on WindClan and get information because of uh scents. you know usual warriors border bullshit. We then get Jaypaw noticing her breath, and finally him sensing jealousy from Nightcloud (that she does not act on). This is the entirety of her appearance in Dark River:

Cue Leafpool being polite to Crowfeather, and Crowfeather waving as many red flags as he possible can.

And onto the infamous Outcast! Where Nightcloud has *drumroll* one fucking appearance.

She also has one appearance in Eclipse where she's part of the patrol that attacks Lionpaw, but I'm not even going to mention it it's quite literally just him going "Nightcloud!" before the scene shifts to his and Heatherpaw's conflict. She is entirely absent in Long Shadows, there is no appearance of her beyond allegiances.

And finally in Sunrise, she is entirely absent until near the ending. She's first mentioned by Crowfeather when Jayfeather asks him if he knew the truth, then noticed at a gathering by Hollyleaf:

When the secret is revealed, Nightcloud stands with Crowfeather. No hissing or hitting or turning on him, here is the entirery of her appearance when Hollyleaf reveals everything:

This is it. This is the entirety of Nightcloud involvement in the story, she is barely mentioned and she is barely a character. Her appearances are dwarfed by Crowfeather and Breezepelt, and she is literally just a normal mom character throughout.

Nightcloud's Appearances in Omen of the Stars

Nightcloud is absent throughout the entirety of the Fourth Apprentice. She is only mentioned in the allegiances. She has one appearance in Fading Echoes:

Then there's Night Whispers, where her first appearance is her arguing with Crowfeather while Flametail goes "yikes!":

Her other appearance is the infamous grabbing scene that people latched onto as proof that Nightcloud was an abusive monster who was hurting poor Crowfeather and was forcing him to not bond with his son. Breezepelt and Lionblaze get into a border dispute and it escalates into a fight:

Leafpool intervenes and asks Crowfeather why he's not doing shit, he then proceeds to throw up multiple red flags in front of her and does the red flag dance:

We finally get Nightcloud where she comes in and pulls Crowfeather away from Leafpool. Despite using her claws, presumably because she does not have fucking THUMBS to grab onto him, no blood is drawn. She just pulls him away in an already emotionally charged and over dramatic situation. This is not comparable to Crowfeather's abuse of his son and with everything else I've presented, her grabbing him is not indicative of their relationship, ESPECIALLY given the circumstances of the action:

Her last appearance is her talking about shredding RC cats, it's not relevant but uh it's there. That the entirety of her appearances within the book.

She has no appearances in Sign of the Moon. She then has a two appearances in The Forgotten Warrior where she is hostile to Hollyleaf (which feels understandable to me considering what Hollyleaf did):

She has one onscreen appearance in The Last Hope where she defends Jayfeather from the Dark Forest attack with some other WindClan cats:

Her only other mention is Crowfeather blaming her for Breezepelt's behavior:

In canon, this never happens. We never see Nightcloud encourage Breezepelt to hate Crowfeather, but we instead see Crowfeather spending an entire book abusing Breezepaw when Nightcloud is away. This is bullshit, but the fandom took this as truth and immediately turned on Nightcloud despite no actual evidence.

There are three takeaways from this:

Crowfeather blaming Nightcloud is....false. It's false. We see no canon evidence of this, and in fact the books tell us another narrative.

Nightcloud is barely a character. She has so few actual appearances that calling her "complex" is a lie, she is a narrative tool that moreso supports Crowfeather and Breezepelt's conflict than any story of her own.

Even if Nightcloud did do all that offscreen, Crowfeather STILL abused his child and that is directly tied to Breezepelt's motivations within Omen of the Stars. Nightcloud's behavior does NOT negate the harm that Crowfeather did to his own son.

#warrior cats #nightcloud #breezepelt #crowfeather #deer rambles #stealing bonefall's essay format LOL but it's useful for organization.#anyways. i've wanteed to make this post for a while sooo ty anon for the excuse to

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khytal · 11 months

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ok gamers I rewatched tristamp one more time in order to write a post about the soundtrack, and some of the stuff I found blew my socks off (even though I've seen every episode like 6 times) so buckle up because oh my god. oh my god

this will cover most of both volumes of the OST (which you can find on spotify), with a focus on wolfwood, and a little bit of vash, meryl, and the eye of michael

...and a very thorough breakdown of "drain arm" :)

notes before I get into it: -I won't be analyzing the plant song because I. already wrote an entire separate thing about that haha (a link to that doc will be in the replies section of the notes if you're interested)

-you won't need to know anything about music theory, because I'm just pointing out where certain themes come up (with the exception of "duet", but I'll explain terminology there). timestamps will be included so you can listen for them as you read

-if you're obsessed with the OST like I am, most of this probably won't be anything new x) but I hope it's enjoyable regardless

-my credentials: I was a pianist for 10 years and an oboist for 7.5 years and I only had 1 semester of intermediate music theory but I got to analyze the 1st mvt of tchaik 5 and I think that permanently altered my brain chemistry

-the tracks I recommend being familiar with to have a better grasp on this post are: -> "whistling/blues harp in the wasteland" (vash's leitmotif) -> "reality" -> "childhood memories" -> "duet" -> "human subject" (eye of michael, or EoM, leitmotif) -> "drain arm" (technically optional)

-please don't take any of my interpretations/speculation as fact! you are absolutely free to come to your own conclusions I just have a lot of thoughts about the soundtrack lol 👍

here we go :]

EP1: -you can hear a variation of the plant song in "immigrant space explorer" (0:36-1:00)

-vash's leitmotif is first heard in "no man's land" (0:41-0:48)

-only about half of "mystery man" plays, and his leitmotif (0:38-0:51) is actually cut from the scene so it's not heard at all

EP2: -"escape" has vash's leitmotif from 0:18-0:31. they also took out the lyrics in the episode's version of the track x)

-it's possible that we'll hear "might is right" or a new arrangement of it if we get to see the rest of the nebraska family in future episodes, since there were posters of marilyn. I think people largely associate the song with EG the Mine but due to the track title and the fact that it first played in this episode, I feel like it's more about the nebraskas

-I'll talk about "childhood memories" in ep12 because it's related to rem's themes

EP3: -the plant song can be heard in "compatriots" (1:01-1:11)

-"reality" is first heard here, right before the episode in which wolfwood is introduced. keep this in mind for later :')

EP4: -"undertaker" has a dissonant sax part (0:48-0:54) that's similar to the one found in "irritation" (1:05-1:11), but it's an ascending passage rather than descending. it doesn't show up anywhere else so it might become a motif we'll hear in the future, but there's no way to know until the next part is released

-"planet zaji", from 0:55-1:04, has that one part from "time left" (1:02-1:09). it's heard while wolfwood's spinning the punisher around but I think it's just something that sounds cool, and you can't really hear it anyway because of the sound effects/dialogue. if zazie gets any additional themes in the future I might have more to say on this

-vash's leitmotif kicks in in "hungry !" (0:21-0:43) when wolfwood introduces himself at the end of the episode. I really like this track I hope we'll get to hear it again x)

EP5: -I don't think there's any meaning behind "shadow" borrowing from "worms network". I'm pretty sure it was just for mood (and to be fair it is a cool track)

-you can hear vash's leitmotif at the beginning of "boy and vash". this is the part where vash is escorting rollo back to the village

-"cyborg" introduces a new 4-note pattern (0:07-0:14) that I'm calling the eye of michael leitmotif. if hearing this reminds you of episode 6 then you already understand what I mean

-"dud" has vash's leitmotif as well (2:20-2:59), which starts playing when vash is begging rollo to wake up after wolfwood kills him

-only a small part of "human subject" (0:25-0:35) is used for the final scene, right when the windmills start turning. using the EoM leitmotif as a sendoff to the empty village is. really haunting

EP6 (this is a long one I'm sorry): -the EoM leitmotif can be heard in "reborn" (0:09-0:14, but it's easier to hear in 0:26-0:30). this is the opening scene where wolfwood guns down the deserter

-they do reuse "worms network" when livio first opens fire on vash but that's more for mood in my opinion. you could say it hints at zazie monitoring the sand steamer though

-we're probably going to hear "the desert rogue" again when the bad lads gang shows up in a future episode, possibly with a new arrangement for brilliant dynamites neon (this is one of my personal favorite tracks actually. it's a shame they didn't get to use the whole thing because 0:45 to the end is really cool)

-"boyhood" contains the EoM leitmotif and it's very in-your-face in this song (1:15-2:19). in the episode itself the track gets cut at around 2:10, but in the OST the piano motif from "orphanage" can be heard one more time right at the end of the song at 2:18-2:20. which is an evil thing to do. anyway

-"nicholas the punisher" is an arrangement of "reality". let that sit for a second, maybe go listen to those two tracks or something.

okay so we can look at this in a few different ways:

-> the end of episode 3 is of course a reality check, supported by the corresponding track being titled "reality" (even though it's fabricated by nai: to suggest and then prove to the people of no man's land that vash is indeed deserving of the $$6mil bounty; and to tell vash that his presence will pose a threat to humans). you know who else is supposed to be* grounded in reality? the pragmatic nicholas d wolfwood, who's introduced at the start of episode 4 *tristamp wolfwood hasn't quite found his resolve yet, as shown by his hesitation when livio appears

-> in the scene where "nicholas the punisher" is heard, vash is insistent on rescuing livio while wolfwood pushes back and says it's too late for him. he's clearly wishing he wouldn't have to eliminate livio though, and with "reality" as the foundation of this song, it presents wolfwood's inner turmoil in a new way for the audience: vash, who is physically right there trying to persuade him that there's still hope for his brother, vs his role as "nicholas the punisher" in sound, in his mind, and the "reality" that developed along with it (death is/can be a mercy, and sometimes it's necessary to sacrifice one life to save many)

(I also want to add that while legato's dialogue shows he intended for the orphanage to be eliminated through livio's death, it seems wolfwood didn't even realize that killing livio would mean more kids would be taken by the EoM for experimentation. he thought he had to choose between livio or the children, but it was a "test" of loyalty; and legato was attempting to obtain said loyalty by force)

-> outside of the episode, if you were to just listen to this track within the OST it's very representative of his character. contrary to "undertaker", which is fairly laid-back and....honestly kind of playful (and equally reflective of wolfwood's personality, when he's relaxed), "nicholas the punisher" is a more somber and contemplative piece. the fact that it's built on "reality" already suggests that he's someone whose beliefs conflict with vash's; and even without knowing that, both of wolfwood's themes contrast with the energy of "vash the stampede" quite clearly (even if I personally don't consider that track to be vash's official theme, it's still associated with him). I think it's really interesting that vash, the quieter one, has more raucous songs while wolfwood, the one with a sharp tongue, has calmer tracks :)

you might be wondering if "orphanage" is in "nicholas the punisher" and the answer is......yes, but actually, no. but kinda if you're delusional like me. this little pattern from 0:29-0:42 in "orphanage" is found in the low brass from 0:57-1:11 in "nicholas the punisher" (although it's in a different key and has a slight variation in the 2nd half). it's not quite the same, but both phrases start by going down a half step, then down a P5 interval (D->C#->F# for "orphanage", F->E->A for "nicholas the punisher"). lastly the sand steamer's leitmotif (I guess) is also present but that's. obviously because this is happening on the sand steamer lol

-"whom to kill, whom to let live" is just a faster/more tense arrangement of "orphanage" with saxophone over it. starting at 1:07 you can hear the worms leitmotif (1:31-1:34 in "worms network")

I can't say whether or not legato is already represented in the OST because he's currently not associated with any unique tracks, but they might tie the dissonant saxophone passage from "irritation" to him. it's first heard when legato stops wolfwood from escaping the facility, and as far as I can remember it's not played anywhere else. if he plays a bigger role in the next season, which I'm sure he will, I'll be keeping an ear out for this x) (I only mention the sax thing because I don't think he's represented by the sax solo that plays in "whom to kill, whom to let live")

EP7: -a little more of "the desert rogue" is heard when the bad lads make their way onto the sand steamer but it's very hard to make out over the gang yelling in the background lmao

-we're treated to the entirety of "human subject", for the scene where livio briefly returns to himself. if you somehow weren't convinced that those repeated 4 notes had anything to do with the eye of michael, this is the last instance where it's heard: the moment livio's overcome by whatever brainwashing was used on him by the EoM

-I think most people associate "time left" with ep12 but it's first played in this episode and I believe that it was primarily composed with the ion cannon sequence in mind (though a majority of the tracks in the OST only play once for specific scenes, with some songs being cut short and getting different parts played across 2+ episodes. "irritation" and "human subject" are examples of this)

EP8: -this one's a little hard to hear because the 1st note is implied in the C drone but vash's leitmotif starts at around 0:09 in "complicity" and runs all the way to 1:06

-it's also in "home" (1:38-1:57), playing at the moment luida hands vash the red coat :)

EP9: -I've talked about this before but I really like that there's 4(?) measures of polyrhythm (2 or more differing rhythmic lines that are played within the same time signature) when vash joins in, before the brothers come together on the same even rhythm. you can see how vash's quarter-note pattern doesn't line up with nai's quarter-note triplets, and in fact, neither of them ever land or start together:

(for the sake of comprehension I wrote it out with a faster tempo to stretch the polyrhythm part over 8 bars instead of the slow tempo/4 bars. I'm not sure what the official tempo is. I think a sane person would write it at a faster tempo so that the part doesn't look stupidly cluttered but a good musician would be able to play it regardless. anyway-)

it sounds even more stilted because vash is playing on the offbeat. polyrhythm's such a great way to represent the brothers' relationship because it seems so chaotic but both lines are still in time together, following the same beats. they're so different but in the end they're still brothers who (are trying to) understand each other. and I love that vash is playing secondo, a more harmonic/supportive part, while knives has primo, where the melody/ornaments are. it says a lot about their personalities :')

since I don't know what the original sheet music looks like I can't say if this is true but you can hear that the plant song at 1:03 is played in octaves (2 notes that're the same pitch with one higher than the other). because of the nature of a duet, and the fact that this was played by the twins when they were little, the octaves were probably split between the parts. so vash was playing the lower octave of the plant song with his right hand, and nai played the upper octave with his left hand (we don't get to see this because it cuts to nai playing the song alone at that point). also: vash favors his right hand while nai favors his left

-now for something far less interesting: "last run" is a medley combining "ethics and morality", "compatriots", and "millions knives"

EP10: -"a cruel sight" seems to be unused. it was probably intended to lead into "bio-power reactor" in the scene where meryl and roberto meet elendira in the tank (given that it ends the same way "bio-power reactor" starts), but they cut it and just played a version of "bio-power reactor" without the melody

-elendira's themes ("elendira the crimsonnail" and "which is the monster?") seem to have some lyrics that're most audible in the beginning of the tracks but they're almost impossible to make out without some kind of editing software, which I don't have lol. they're already very quiet in the background and they echo, on top of sounding like they were put through autotune

also this is entering speculation territory but it makes me wonder if elendira's theme is going to evolve with her. we've seen some concept art with her having a more teenage appearance, so I think it'd be really cool if the vocals also changed accordingly

additionally she doesn't have the EoM leitmotif anywhere but she DOES have a proper 4-note chromatic pattern that descends from D in "which is the monster?" (1:32-1:35), which is the same note that the EoM leitmotif starts on. if we consider EoM's broken chromatic passage to represent the failed experiments, then elendira, with an actual chromatic passage in her theme, is a success

-"meryl's regrets" is ALSO an arrangement of "reality" :') this is the track that plays during roberto's final moment, which was. you know. the consequence of meryl running off in pursuit of the truth. the "reality" roberto had warned her about several times prior to episode 10. interestingly, while "nicholas the punisher" expands on the original track, "meryl's regrets" is a reduction--it's mostly just the baseline with some notes here and there. she doesn't have a theme yet, but 1:23-1:33 might be something we hear again if/when she gets a track associated with her

EP11: -"nicholas and meryl" is an arrangement of "boy and vash", with erhu echoing vash's leitmotif. I think it's a neat way to show through music that both of them are here because of vash :]

-the tracklist goes slightly out of order at this point for some reason. after "memory retrieval", "memory of geranium" is what plays in the final memory, when nai decapitates rem

EP12: -"memory of rem" is a combination of "childhood memories" and "memory of geranium". "childhood memories" is also found in "knives's piano", which is based on "duet". one fun way of interpreting this is that the "childhood memories" part of the duet is actually from rem, if she was the one who taught the twins how to play piano, which would make "duet" a musical representation of vash and nai's roots (pun intended. sorry). this also suggests nai misses rem, with how often he plays the piano, even if he thinks he hates her.

but "childhood memories" can also simply be seen as a theme that's associated with rem, nai, and vash's brief time together x)

-okay this is the part where I get to rant about "drain arm" because THIS SONG was literally the reason I decided I needed to rewatch stampede. I was listening to "drain arm" a couple weeks after the finale aired and I heard vash's leitmotif near the end and I was like "NO WAY!!!! HOW DID I MISS THAT"

as it turns out, it was cut from episode 12.

not to worry though, I still have plenty to say about it. even if I'm a little disappointed. just. a little.

-> from 1:13-1:25, you can hear vash's leitmotif in the cello. this DID make it into the scene, and it plays when vash rises through the clouds

-> 2:44-3:10 is where some of the lyrics from vocal version of "millions knives" play: "remember how / we used to be / no turning back / sky's (skies??) falling down". although you can't actually hear the "remember how" in "drain arm" (at least not without blasting the song into your ears, which I don't recommend), it starts right when the image of vash and nai sitting in the geodome appears

-> we finally get the plant song at 3:36, when the condensed energy starts to leak out/charge. and then after it fires, but before nai dives into the beam, we hear "I still care for you" (3:44-3:52). and while it's originally from the vocal version of "millions knives", in the context of the scene I think it's a sentiment from both brothers: vash, who pleads for nai to let go and releases the energy away from him; and then knives, desperately reaching for the cube because he believes the success of his plan will ensure his family's (and especially his brother's) safety, the only ones he's ever cared about

in other words: plant song in cello = vash -> "I still care for you" -> continuation of plant song in low brass = knives. they're connected by this single sentence

-> knives's leitmotif (I didn't talk about it because it's only found in songs that signal his appearance, so it's really obvious, but yes he's got one of those) plays at 4:03 for the "nai is dead. you killed him" exchange

-> it goes back to a variation of the plant song at 4:29 (I LOVE the piano at 4:40-4:49 btw. it's so good. I could cry about it. probably)

if you've read my plant song analysis you might be wondering how to tell when it's being associated with the name millions knives instead of the plant race. since we know that a good chunk of the songs in the OST were written like a film score, the visual context (and/or the song titles themselves) can clue you in. "drain arm"'s use of the plant song is meant to highlight that vash and nai aren't human, so it's the latter

-> now here's the part that was removed, probably due to the runtime: vash's leitmotif in the cello again, from 5:03-5:09. if you revisit the part right before nai lets go of the cube, you'll hear that it skips these 6 seconds and goes straight to knives's theme ("but that's the plant song!" yes. we'll get to that in a sec). this missing bit right here?? fucks me up EVERY time. it's the most mournful his leitmotif has ever sounded, appropriately so, and it's absolutely criminal that it wasn't included. especially because knives's theme, the plant song melody, follows it up on violin as the cello continues to play a line in harmony.

and it's knives's theme because in this moment it's about him dying, not the plants. they spent a whole season tricking us into thinking that the plant song was knives's theme, and then they used it to send him off.

-> and then july city explodes o7

as much as I'd love to hear "drain arm" again for another chance to let the weight of vash's motif come through, I think it's too intertwined with this scene to be recycled. like. maaaaaaaybe they could use it for fifth moon if that's supposed to be the climax of the next part but they kinda?? already did the "fire a really big laser at the sky" thing? anyway yeah I'm totally normal about "drain arm". so normal

Extras: -the punisher and the double fangs have these cool sound effects when they transform and it kinda makes me think that their guns are built from lost tech, if the punisher's laser cannon wasn't evidence enough of this

-there's no equivalent of "sound life" in stampede, and I don't think there's going to be one. however, I do think that it would make a lot of sense if rem taught the boys how to play piano, because we could get something like:

-> rem asks vash about the plant song (the memory in ep12) -> she gives the boys piano lessons -> she helps them compose "duet"

-they didn't use "stampede out" for this season but I really hope we'll hear it in the next part. I know it's just a longer version of "escape" but it's a fun song :]

-this is. obvious but you can hear "gate" in "millions knives". no idea if they'll put "gate" into more songs, especially for vash now that he seems to have some control over it

-there's also something kinda fun with key signatures too: -> "millions knives" is in b minor -> vash's leitmotif is in d dorian (of course this changes depending on the key signature of whatever track it's used in) -> "undertaker" is also in d dorian -> I think songs associated with no man's land/humanity are usually in some dorian scale or specifically the key of a minor but this is solely based on jeneora rock since july city had its own unique theme so I'm not totally sure yet. "duet" is in a minor by the way -> "nicholas the punisher" is in d minor. if "undertaker" is tied to humanity (which is tied to vash) then "nicholas the punisher" is linked to the other side: knives, through the EoM. it adds another interesting layer to the contrast between wolfwood's two themes, but I don't consider this to hold any meaning lol -> I WILL say that b minor is the relative minor of D Major, so having knives and vash's songs be written in those keys was likely deliberate. and what makes it really interesting is that to get d dorian, you take a D Major scale and lower the 3rd and 7th notes by a half step

-I'm not 100% sure but I think plucked piano strings were used to create the low, scratchy string sound effect in some of the songs (one example is literally at the beginning of "irritation"). I think it's really cool that piano is everywhere in the soundtrack, but not necessarily by hitting the keys

-I am unbelievably excited for livio's/razlo's themes because they have the opportunity to do some REALLY COOL things with the music for them. we might not get them in part 2 (though I think we will) but whenever it happens I'll be so ready for it >:)

and that's all!! o(-< thank you for reading! if you actually took the time to go through all of this with the soundtrack pulled up, I'm. impressed. i think. anyway I'm a big fan of OSTs with strong storytelling and tristamp's OST is no exception :]

if you've got questions, feel free to ask ^^ I definitely didn't cover everything I just picked out whatever I thought was worth mentioning. which was uhhhh quite a bit x)

(also again if you're interested in reading the plant song analysis I did it's in the replies section of the notes 👍 I recommend reading it on a computer though)

#trigun stampede #gods above this is the longest post I've ever written. there's so much text it started lagging #did you know i've listened to drain arm over 100 times in the past 2 days. while I was writing this. anyway #khyt.art #(because i drew the little vash for this sdfLHGSLDJFHGS)#khyt.3gunposting

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