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the-art-of-ancunin · 4 months

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I'll Be Good [One-Shot]

Summary: As the newest addition to the Vampire Ascendent's twisted little family, you've already proven yourself to be the most vexatious, obstinate, and thankless child he's had the pleasure of breaking. Though he hasn't succeeded quite yet, Astarion is determined to make you bend to his will, to mold you into something useful...though he realizes that perhaps his original intentions may have been a bit off the mark when you manage to pierce through his carefully built walls and awaken something in him that he assumed had perished long ago.

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Female Reader

Content Warning(s): SMUT, dirty talk, Daddy kink, Creampie, P-in-V, unprotected sex, some overstimulation, etc.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Also, again... I did not proofread this, no beta-reader, so it might be shit. Let's find out together.

Word Count: 4.9K

The moon hung like a pale specter against the blackened sky, casting a cold, silvery glow over the Crimson Palace as you approached its looming gates. The air was thick with the scent of decay and spices, mingling with the bitter tang of your own despair. Your steps were soundless against the well-worn cobblestones, betraying no hint of your return. Your mind churned with revulsion; you had ventured into Baldur's Gate under the gloom of night, not exactly as a predator but as bait, tasked to ensnare an innocent for your Master’s insatiable appetite.

"Six months," you whispered to yourself, the words a ghostly mist in the chill air. "Six months of this cursed existence." At first, Master Astarion had been lenient, allowing you time to adapt to the thirst that now clawed at your insides, to the newfound strength that coiled in your muscles like a dormant serpent. But his patience had waned and his expectations had risen like the tide.

"Useful" – the word twisted in your gut, a cruel mockery of servitude. You could scrub the castle from top to bottom until your hands bled anew, yet it would never be enough. Fetching trinkets, scrubbing stone, and worse…much worse. This was to be your life, and it all boiled down to control - to Astarion's iron grip on the reins of power, forcing you and everyone else to dance to his whims. You were no stranger to playing the pawn, your life prior stood as testament to the manipulation suffered by those who claimed authority over you. But at least back then, you figured, death would have been the end of it.

"There you are," a voice slithered from the shadows. You immediately stiffened, your undead heart a frozen shard in your chest. Astarion sat, reclined in a beautifully crafted chair situated near the front door - the dim light glinting off his gilded chalice, the crimson liquid within a stark reminder of your grim existence.

"Master," you acknowledged, the title a leaden weight on your tongue.

"Out and about, playing the part of the dutiful daughter?" His smirk cut through the darkness, a blade honed by centuries of cunning. "Yet, you return to me empty-handed. Again."

Your resolve flickered as you met his gaze, those vermillion eyes a tempest of enigmatic desires. "The night was...unkind to me, I admit. My apologies," you lied smoothly, your voice a practiced melody of regret.

"Unkind," he echoed mockingly. "For as pretty as you are, my sweet, it's quite astonishing how you've proven to be such a lousy whore. We all must earn our keep in this family, Y/N. You know this." His tone held the chill of an unspoken threat.

"Of course, Master," you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil that raged within you. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms, a small act of defiance against his suffocating rule.

"Words are but wind, my dear," He continued, rising gracefully to stand before you. "Actions are what bind us – or condemn us."

You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, as tangible as the stone walls that encased them. Every instinct screamed to flee, to rail against the chains that bound you to his side, but survival was a lesson hard-learned. Composure was your shield, obedience your sword.

"I'd be more than happy to clean this palace top to bottom every day until the sky falls down," you replied, each word measured and deliberate. "I've told you this a hundred times or more. I'll gladly earn my keep, but I am not going to whore myself just to keep your snack cupboard stocked. I'm not that type of girl and not even you can take that from me. I won't let you."

You let out a strangled yelp as your Master’s iron grip encircled your throat, the cold touch of his fingers a stark contrast to the fire that had been kindling between you moments before. Your feet dangled helplessly above the marble floor, your back collided harshly against the unforgiving stone wall behind you. His eyes, dark as you had ever seen them, burned into yours with an intensity that could sear flesh.

"Displeased, are we?" he sneered, the venom in his voice dripping like acid. "The world outside these walls is a cruel one, darling. You know that...but if you'd rather go waltzing back into your father's open arms...well, that can be arranged. That drunkard who treated you like filth? My...I'm sure he'd be quite surprised to see you."

Your blood pounded in your ears, each thrum a drumroll of panic and resignation. You could feel the oppressive weight of Astarion's power crushing your spirit, but the thought of returning to your father's brutality was a fate worse than any torment your master could devise. In a choked whisper borne of fear and desperation, you managed to utter, "No, no, no - Please..."

"Good," He growled. "So we have an understanding, then?"

Your nod was almost imperceptible, your gaze not leaving his. The silence stretched taut between you until you added softly, with a trace of disdain you couldn't suppress, "Yes, Daddy ."

His vermillion eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within their depths. "What was that?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Shit.

"Nothing, Master. I just said yes." Your words were barely audible, a mere breath carried on the stagnant air of the corridor.

"No. Say it again. As you did before," he commanded, something primal awakening inside him.

You hesitated. His grip tightened.

"Yes, Daddy." The words slipped from your lips, strained and hesitant. You couldn't decipher the look that painted his beautiful yet terrifying face—a mosaic of power, anger, and something else you dared not name.

He released his hold, allowing you to slide down the wall, your legs quivering as they struggled to support your weight. He didn't step away, though; instead, he caged you within the prison of his arms, his presence enveloping you. His hand, no longer a vise on your neck, traced a path up your trembling form, coming to rest beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he whispered, his thumb brushing across your lower lip with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of his earlier actions.

You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. There was no escaping the raw desire that swirled in those fathomless pools. The tension crackled between you, electric and overwhelming.

"Are you afraid, little one?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr that resonated in the hollows of your chest.

"Of you? Don't flatter yourself," Your reply came out steadier than you felt, the rebellious spark within you flickering to life despite the danger.

Your Master chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. "You should be. There are so very many things that I could do to you, sweet girl."

His breath brushed against your skin, igniting a shiver that danced along your spine.

"Perhaps it's time we renegotiate the terms of this little arrangement of ours, yes?" He purred, his grip on your chin tightening ever so slightly.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a cruel mockery of affection. You swallowed hard, your throat dry with fear and anticipation.

"What do you mean?" you squeaked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I rule over this palace, this city, and over my... beloved children, with an iron first - it's true," he spoke lowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "But an unreasonable man, I am not. You want to refuse to work - to help provide for yourself and your family? For me, the man who gifted you with life eternal and stole you away from the misery of your previous existence? Who took you in from the slums to live in luxury inside of his palace? Well...so be it, darling. You don't want to whore yourself out on the streets? Fine . Allow me to show you what's to be expected of you now - think of this as a chance to prove your worth, hm? If you do well, you'll never have to set foot in the city ever again ."

You hesitated for a moment too long, the uncertainty in your eyes betraying you. Astarion's hand left your chin, replacing it with a firm grip around your upper arm, leading you down the shadowy corridor.

"Come now," he said, his tone gruff but laced with promise. "Let us test your... endurance , shall we?"

The darkness enveloped you as you journeyed deeper into the palace, each step echoing ominously in the dank corridors. With every passing moment, you felt more and more like you were spiraling into an abyss you could never escape.

Astarion stopped abruptly, pulling you to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door. Your stomach dropped.

The Kennels.

The knob turned with a groan, and the door swung open to reveal a small, windowless room, the air inside heavy with the scent of ancient blood and endless anguish.

You took a deep breath, your undead heart twisting violently in your chest. This was where all the "expendable" assets of the household were kept, the lowest of the low - and you knew it.

"Inside," He commanded coldly.

"No!" You cried as you tried to pull away from his grip, "Please, no! I'll be good - Please! Please, I swear it!" But his hold on you only tightened, his fingertips digging into your arm.

"You're going to learn, my dear," He murmured, his voice low and hungry, "You're going to learn to submit to me, one way or another."

With a harsh shove, you stumbled forward into the room. Air rushed out of your lungs as you hit the cold, unyielding stone beneath you, the room's darkness swallowing you whole. Astarion stood over you, his pale silhouette framed by the doorway.

"Careful now, pet," He cooed, clicking his tongue in faux concern. His voice was a melody that belied the danger it carried. "Are you hurt?"

Your palms stung with abrasions as you shuffled backward, your gaze locked onto the elf who towered above you. You hastily examined yourself, feeling the sting of fresh scrapes on your knees, the evidence of your flesh's betrayal: small droplets of blood blossoming against your skin. "I'm fine," you managed, your voice steadier than you felt, propped up on trembling elbows, the fabric of your dress offering scant protection from the chill of the room.

"Fine," he repeated, a predator's grin carving into his features as his eyes flicked to the wounds on your knees before raking over your form. There was something unsettlingly tender about the way he observed you, as if you were both prey and masterpiece all at once.

Astarion's movements were fluid as he began to unbuckle his belt. The leather slid through the loops with an ominous whisper, and the air grew thick with tension. A strange glint, like the edge of a knife, flashed in his eyes, capturing your every fleeting emotion: surprise morphing into disgust, then a shameful twinge of longing that betrayed your better judgment.

"Do you have any idea how long it has been since I've sought... relief, Y/N?" His voice was silk and steel.

"Hours, I presume?" Your voice dripped with malice, belying the flutter of your pulse at the sight of the discarded belt.

A chuckle escaped him, low and resonant, as he methodically worked the buttons of his shirt. "Decades," he corrected, the word punctuated by the soft pop of fabric yielding to his deft fingers.

"Decades seem but moments for someone with eternity at their disposal," you shot back, wearing your defiance as a thin veil.

He shrugged off the shirt, revealing his chest sculpted from moonlight and marble, his smirk cutting through the darkness. "I have not known another's touch since I was but a spawn myself," he confessed, his voice a hush of raw truth that slithered through the shadows. "A time before your father's seed even thought to take root."

Your laughter rang hollow in the confined space. "And am I to believe you've satiated yourself with nothing but your own hand? A creature as comely as yourself?" You challenged, pushing down the unnerving awareness of his proximity.

"Indeed." His affirmation was simple, yet it held the weight of ages within it. "Desire was a luxury stripped from me, a complication I was content to live without." A pause, and then he stepped closer. "Until a vexatious little brat invaded my sanctuary and ignited a problem I presumed to have been long extinguished."

Your mind whirred, caught between disbelief and the dawning realization of what this meant. Your body reacted more honestly than you cared to admit, a thrum of anticipation weaving through your veins despite the gravity of the situation. You cursed yourself inwardly, your instincts betraying you again—how could you desire this monster, this bastard, this tyrant?

His movements were fluid, a whisper of fabric against skin as he untied the laces that held his trousers. His deliberate hands betrayed no urgency, yet each motion was laden with intent. With a deft flick of his wrist, the garment fell away, followed by the muted sound of his underclothes as they joined the heap of discarded attire.

Your gaze traced the lines of his body, a study in contrasts—his pallid skin almost luminous against the room's shadows. Your breath left you as you noted the prominent veins low on his torso, like pale blue rivulets frozen in time, leading to the cradle of his arousal. Your Master stood unabashed, his bare body exposed to your gaze. His manhood, thick and rigid between his legs, continued to swell as he wrapped his long fingers around it. With each stroke of his hand, his cock throbbed and pulsed in response, the movements hypnotic and undeniably human. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he continued to pleasure himself in front of you. A flush crept up your neck at the sight of him, his nakedness and self-pleasure stirring something inside you. With each pull of his hand, more of his flushed head was revealed, his foreskin sliding back and forth like a dance of concealment and revelation that quickened your pulse.

"Undress," he ordered, his voice a velvet demand that left no room for argument. Clearing his throat, he held your gaze, the crimson of his eyes smoldering with a lifetime's worth of longing, suddenly exhumed from the depths of his being.

"Or do you need assistance?" There was a taunt woven into his words, a challenge that roused both defiance and curiosity within you.

"I'm not a child," you spat back, even as your fingers moved to the fastenings of your dress, a traitorous mix of fear and desire propelling your actions. Each button popped open, an audible punctuation to the silence that stretched between you, thick with anticipation.

As fabric parted to unveil your skin, your thoughts tangled with the implications of what lay ahead. Were you yielding to his will or seizing control of the only thing that you could—the power of your own flesh?

"Good girl," Astarion praised, a sinister satisfaction lining his tone. Yet, for all his composure, there was a glint of something else—a flicker of awe or perhaps admiration—at your defiant display of vulnerability.

"I'm not that, either," you whispered teasingly, lying bare before him on the cold stone in all of your glory, your chin lifted in silent rebellion. But the look in his eye, the way it softened ever so slightly, told you that the game had shifted, that this moment was more than a simple exchange of power. It was a crossing of thresholds, a venture into a realm where the line between captor and captive blurred into nothingness, leaving you simply as man and woman, bound by the weight of your desire.

The air grew heavy with the scent of lust as Astarion stepped closer, his hand a rhythmic presence on his needy cock. The moonlight cast an otherworldly glow upon his pale skin, turning it almost translucent as he moved like a creature of myth. He lowered himself to his knees with an effortless grace, parting your legs with a deliberate touch.

" Ahh , but you will be," He rasped. "You're going to be a very, very good girl for Daddy from now on, aren't you?"

You simply stared for a moment as you processed his words, your body responding involuntarily to the command in his tone—your nipples peaked in anticipation. A mix of fear and arousal churned within you as you met his eyes, so deep and captivating it felt as if he could see into the very depths of your soul.

A small, involuntary cry escaped you as Astarion pressed his cockhead against the slick warmth between your thighs. He drew the length of his hardness along your folds slowly, each stroke a promise of what was to come. When the tip brushed your swollen nub, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, rendering you momentarily speechless.

"Y-yes," you managed to whisper, your eyes locked onto his with a mixture of trepidation and longing.

"Speak up, dear. I didn't quite catch that." His cheeky wit laced his words, though his expression remained intense, demanding.

Your lips parted, the words coming louder this time, filled with the knowledge of the power exchange between them. "Yes, daddy ."

"Again," he commanded, not because he hadn't heard you, but because he relished in the sound of your submission. Each repetition carved your acquiescence deeper into the fabric of this encounter between you.

"Yes, daddy," you repeated, your voice now steady with acceptance.

This was the game Astarion played best, a dance of dominance and surrender. After years of being subjected to Cazador Szarr's cruel whims, the tables had finally turned. Now he wielded control, and in it, he found a dark solace. No longer a pawn, he was now the master of his own desires, a vampire ascendant, savoring the sweet yield of another's will beneath him.

His hips slid forward with just enough force that it sent shivers coursing through your sensitive core. You arched beneath him, your back pressing against the cold stone, your nails scraping against it as you sought purchase. Your breaths came faster, your eyes widening in a mix of shock and pleasure.

"That's it, darling," He coaxed, his voice low and sultry. "Let me hear you say it. Tell Daddy what you want."

"I want you," you confessed, the words tumbling off of your lips like an admission of defeat. "Please fuck me."

Astarion chuckled deep in his throat, something wicked and wild in his eyes. With a burst of motion, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth, tasting your submission.

"Try again."

"I want you," you said again, your voice shaking with anticipation. "Please, Daddy - Please, fuck me."

Your Master’s eyes burned with desire as he pulled back from your lips, the scent of your arousal filling his senses. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock already slick with your juices.

"Is this what you want, sweet girl?" he asked, his voice quiet and seductive, gently teasing your entrance with his swollen head as he spoke, "I need you to be certain."

"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, your hips bucking involuntarily, urging him closer.

With a low growl, Astarion pressed into you, letting out a small groan as his tip popped through the tight threshold of your snug channel. You were so small, so tight, and his cock stretched you like nothing you had ever experienced. The simple feat of taking the fat crown of him into your body had knocked the air from your lungs as your body attempted to adjust to the invasion, the pleasure mingling with the pain of being split open. You thanked the Gods that you no longer required air to live, as the intensity of that first shallow stroke paled in comparison to the fullness of feeling him sink another inch of his rigid shaft into you.

"Y/N," he groaned, his hips pulling back just slightly before pushing forward once more, sinking more of his cock into your tight hole every time he slid in and out of you in a gentle, steady rhythm.

You blinked a few times, mouth agape as your inner walls continued to struggle, hesitant to yield to him in spite of the way your arousal drenched your thighs. You could feel every inch, every pulse, every vein that adorned his hardness as he moved within you, opening you up in ways you had never imagined.

“Gods, Astarion," you whispered, your voice thick with desire. In spite of yourself, you found yourself craving that twinge of pain that pierced through your core each time he pressed a little deeper. Gods, it hurt but then…it felt so fucking good, too. You wanted nothing more than to feel him buried deep inside of you, until his heavy balls were pressed tightly against your bottom.

The pale elf snarled, almost as if he could read your mind - his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hips slamming against your delicate form. A sordid scream tore from your throat as your body was forced to accept him fully, the agonizing pleasure coursing through your veins with each thrust.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans echoing off the cold stone walls, merging into a symphony of passion and release. Astarion's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust into you with fervor.

He leaned down as he whispered into your ear, his voice a velvety promise. "You're going to come for me, aren't you, little one?"

A small moan escaped you, Astarion’s piercing gaze and the depravity of this intimate act overwhelming both body and mind. You could feel the hot wetness of your sex coating your inner thighs and dripping onto the stone below as your climax began to build.

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice filled with raw need. "Fuck, Daddy - I'm so close...,"

Astarion's hips pounded against you with increasing urgency as he felt you nearing your peak. He knew that once you came, you would be his, submission and surrender so complete that it would bind you together forever.

"That's it, darling," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Come for me. Scream my name as you take me. Let your brothers and sisters know who Daddy's favorite is."

He pumped into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that permeated the air. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling as the intense pleasure built within you. You could feel your orgasm cresting, your walls tightening around his cock.

"Yes," you cried out, your voice strained. "Please, Daddy, I need you - I need to...ahhh!"

Hearing your plea sent a shockwave of desire through Astarion's body, causing him to press into the soft barrier of your cervix over and over again. His cock was like a branding iron, carving his name into the sacred landscape of your womb, of your very soul.

"Gods, yes," You mewled, your eyes locked onto his as the delicious dragging of his thick shaft moving inside of you became too much to bear. With a shuddering gasp, you came undone, your pussy clenching and spasming around him as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you.

Astarion watched your face as you came, the way your lips parted, your eyes rolling back into your head, your body bucking beneath him in unbridled passion. He knew this was only the beginning. As your orgasm subsided, he continued to rut into you, his cock twitching and throbbing with each stroke, eager to find its own release.

With each slap of his hips against yours, a whimper escaped your lips, your nails digging into the cold stone as your body was pushed to its limits. The pleasure was almost too much, but you found yourself craving more, wanting to give him everything you had.

As your orgasm faded into a gentle hum, you found yourself wanting to reciprocate. You wrapped your legs around your Master’s waist, pulling him closer to you, allowing him to fuck himself into you as deeply as he desired as your hips matched his rhythm. Your hands clutched him tightly, your nails softly digging into his skin as you found your own desire beginning to resurface.

"Daddy," you pleaded pathetically, "Fuck me. Make me yours. Please."

Astarion's eyes widened for but a moment at your words, his thrusts wavering only for a second before his flesh once again met yours with a punishing pace, the lewd sound of your squelching sex and skin meeting skin echoed off of the walls.

"That's it, sweet girl," he rasped, his voice breaking for just a moment as a moan escaped his lips. "Take it all. Let me feel you around me."

Your eyes locked onto his, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure and pain mingled within you, creating a symphony of sensations that threatened to consume you and suddenly you noticed that familiar tension building within you once again.

"Ahh, fuck...please," You cried, "Fuck, its too much..."

A choked scream tore from your chest before his name spilled from your lips, your body writhing beneath your master as his fangs pierced the skin of your neck.

Astarion drank deeply, the taste of your blood filling him with a sense of completeness he had never known. He pulled away, his lips leaving a faint kiss on the mark he had made on your neck.

"Ssshh - you're taking it so well, darling," he groaned, his hands gripped your hips roughly, pulling you tightly against him. "I'm so close, love. Come with me."

Your body trembled as your climax grew closer with each thrust of his cock into your wet heat. It felt like a wildfire, igniting every nerve and sensitive spot in your body.

"Please, Daddy," you whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies joining. " Ahhh -"

Astarion pistoned himself into you, his thrusts becoming erratic as once again you approached your peak. Your pussy clenched around him, urging him closer to his own release.

"That's it, pet," he purred, "Let it happen. Let go."

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body trembling as you surrendered to the sensations coursing through you. The agonizing fullness of your master spearing into your core all but consumed you entirely as you came undone once again - you cried his name from your lips, the sound reverberating throughout the palace.

With a deep, guttural growl, Astarion sank into you one final time, burying every last inch of himself inside of your pretty little cunt as his aching balls tightened. Every muscle in his body tensed and quivered as he emptied himself inside you, your bodies coming together in a carnal display of ecstasy and release. Your breathing was heavy and ragged, the sweat on your skin mingled with one another as you laid locked in each other's embrace. The intensity of the moment consumed you both, leaving you both trembling with raw passion and desire.

The quivering shadows on the walls seemed to dance with your lingering tremors, echoes of your pleasure slowly subsiding. Astarion withdrew himself from your tender warmth, leaving a palpable emptiness in his wake.

"Shh," He whispered against your flushed skin, his lips brushing your face and neck with a tenderness that belied his predatory nature, a stark contrast to the fervor you had just shared. With hands both firm and gentle, he turned you onto your stomach, the cool stone pressing against your cheek as you complied wordlessly.

Your hips were lifted by his confident grasp, baring you to him once more. The air caressed your exposed flesh, heightening your awareness of your own vulnerability and the wet that continued to coat and trickle down your thighs—a tribute to your union. Astarion's purr vibrated through the silence, a sound of dark satisfaction as he admired the sight before him.

"Look at you... such a good girl for me, Y/N." His voice was soft yet sinister, a paradox that sent shivers down your spine. As he stroked the swell of your ass with an almost reverent touch, you braced yourself. Expecting a strike that never came.

"Thank... thank you, Master," you managed, your words trembling as much as your body. Your eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion, sought out his face. Even now, his attention was fixated on the proof of his possession, the essence of him that marked you as his own.

His fingers traced the intimate path where your bodies had been joined, gathering the evidence of his claim and deliberately pushing it back inside of you with a possessiveness that was both invasive and oddly comforting. You winced, the sensation overwhelming yet incomplete without him filling you entirely.

"Is it too much?" he teased, his tone laced with feigned concern and a pout that only served to mock. You could see the glint of amusement in his eyes, the playful cruelty that he so often enjoyed.

You shook your head, a silent plea for him to continue, to test the boundaries of your resilience. You would endure; you would be good.

You promised.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion smut #daddy k!nk

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sloshr · 3 months

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After watching through Side Order... I have a Few Thoughts.

[Spoilers ahead]

My Review of the Side Order DLC - Its little more than Gameplay.

Initial Opinion

- - - - - - - - - -

Overall; I like the gameplay mechanics initially, but the story absolutely feels lacking to me, imo. It feels like they were really banking on Side Order being Hard but... multiple of my friends finished it on their 2nd or 3rd run through the Spire.

That in itself isnt a problem! But... everyone felt sort of unsatisfied? There were no developments in the story, as we, Agent 8, were just assigned the task to Get to The Top of the Spire -> The Player Does That -> You beat a Boss -> Credits Roll (?)

On my watchthrough I literally said Please Say Sike 😭 because, dont take this poorly, but they were advertising Side Order as;

• Difficult (stated Multiple Times in basically every Trailer)

• Story Driven (You Uncover things as You Climb)

• Character and Lore Intensive (as shown by the trailers with all the concept art as well as promo art)

I dont feel like it was wrong to expect more based on how it was advertised.

But... if you complete the DLC in 1-2 runs, which is Very Much Possible, no buildup happens at all. The story was banking on the player struggling, and putting all the content behind repeat runs, which falls through and Doesnt really work/feel satisfying if the main goal is achieved in such a short time. I Feel like anyone who regularly plays Salmon Run will likely have a similar experience. And I feel kind of cheated? Because what we got was something that was Tell Not Show rather than the Show, Not Tell formula. And in my opinion, it really doesn't work as well at all. It puts all the major lore that the game has set up behind repetetive climbs (which never change btw, despite each climb being generated differently, its the same after a while) and you get about 1 Sentence of Exposition, with a Modlog from Marina if you are Lucky.

Side Order was (to me), after watching it all;

• Not Difficult, But Repetetive Gameplay (This easily runs people down, which would be fine if the tower had more than 1 setup or phase)

• Inital Story Setup with no complexities or stages. You climb the first Tower, Save Marina, Climb the Second Tower, Beat Order, and the credits Roll. In its most complex, you could fit what Side Order's Story is in 2-3 Sentences. Rather than Lore being revealed During the story, it feels Pushed to the Side as all of it is either in Text the player may never see (different climbs) or care to read (Marina's Mod Log)

• Use of Character Drops with no explaination / mention (The Agent 4 Boss, Anyone?) (This felt very Bait-y, with No Payoff)

Rating

- - - - -

If I had to give Side Order a Rating

4/10. At Best.

I am a bit disappointed with this as I feel like I was promised more, Storywise, and honestly a bit gameplay wise. I think it fails where other DLC has succeeded Due to being Built in such a way where anything engaging is stuck behind barely changing gameplay. It is not built in a way where the experience cant fail to show you whats important to the characters and the worldbuilding. It relies too much on telling you whats happening rather than the world showing you. Its too Simple, and It Doesnt Work, personally, in a series that contains Octo Expansion.

Which is Sad to me!! It had so much wasted potential and I really hope this isn't the last we're going to see of the concept, we get to see ideas actually built into the story, and... maybe find Agent 4.

Conclusion

- - - - - - - -

Tldr; Side Order had a good concept, but failed in execution for being simple and gameplay dependent, which was ultimately disappointing due to it being advertised as something more for all involved.

It was an alright attempt. The experience will just be known to me as... well. Baby's First Rouge-like. Nothing worldbreaking.

(PS, this isnt meant to be mean spirited or overly critical, I just love the Splatoon Series so I give it Tough Love. This is just my personal view on the DLC)

Thank you for Reading! Feel free to share or add any thoughts!

#This is Just my opinion but Ive seen a couple people with similar experiences to me and wanted to make a post to see if anyone else #feels the same about the whole DLC #if anyone has any experiences to share feel free! id love to hear #sorry if this seems mean spirited or overly critical - i really do love the splatoon series with all my heart #its tough love #splatoon #review #Side Order #Side Order Spoilers #Splatoon 3 #Nintendo

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝑰 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑰'𝑴 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫

pairing: tommy miller x fem!reader

genre: smut, soft enemies to lovers, minors dni

word count: 3.4k

summary: when you met him the first time him and his brother was your captor, months later he becomes yours, and quickly after that he become a resident of Jackson. You've already forgiven him for his past, but he's not happy with how eager you are to excuse what he's done.

warnings: tommy having a hero complex, tommy lashing out, piv sex, time skips, oral (giving & receiving)

a/n: the format I've written this in is inspired by @littlemisspascal 's getting lost is being found joel fic, which I highly recommend by the way it was amazing, one of my favorite things ever 💜

The world went to shit, well joke on the world, your life was already shit long before outbreak day.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Nothing just seemed to work out for you. But then all hell broke loose and suddenly it felt like you were off the hook, that you could be someone else, someone you always wanted to be. Someone that you knew you were. Before all this, you were just hurt, felt broken, but still smiled and went about your day. You tried to be good. Tried to be nice. For the most part, you like to think that you succeeded.

You became a guide. Somewhat similar to Charon, if you spared yourself the thought but instead of guiding the dead to Hades, you guided the living away from it. Things went smooth for the most part, you helped people where they needed to go, killed infected, shot down those who shot first. It was the oddest type of freedom that you felt.

But life had other plans, and life loved to point its middle finger right into your face.

It’s a dad and his two kids this time, you were helping them get to the nearest QZ. You cut the fence, helped them through, you knew hunters were lurking nearby, people who survived on killing and stealing—vultures.

You feel a tight grip on your neck and you’re being violently pulled back. The kids look back at you with horror lingering in their eyes, the dad eager to pull them away. With a deep breath, you manage to force out a smile.

“Go!” you shout. “You’re almost there!”

And they run, they run as fast as they can.

“Fuck!” you hear one of them say, a deep souther drawl heavy in your ear. “Shit, they got away. They had good weapons on them too.”

“At least we got the one,” the man that holds you answers. “Let’s go back, see what this one has.”

“Let me the fuck go!” you struggle, attempting to elbow him in the stomach. “You fucking assholes. They were fucking kids.”

Finally one comes into view, he’s broad—broad enough to stun you into silence. The fear of death lurks around your heart, sucking you into a black pit of realizing that this might be it. He has a glare that could kill, a hooked nose, and, most importantly, a gun. This man, you notice, this man would kill you in a heartbeat. He gives you one last once-over before tilting his head to the other holding you down.

“Knock her out, Tommy.”

ii.

It’s late. Far too late for anyone to be awake. The embers of the crackling fire had died down, only specks of golden orange shimmering between the ash. You’ve learned the names of your captors; Tommy and Joel. Brothers, you assumed, they didn’t really have to spell it out for it to be obvious.

You’re not sure why you’re still alive. You remember Joel muttering something about using you as bait, or to learn more about the routes that you seemed to know. Tommy had agreed.

In another life, another time, you would’ve deemed the men attractive. Especially Tommy. He had a boyish charm to him, longer hair compared to his brother (those poor dark locks had definitely seen better days), and mussed unkempt facial hair indicating that they’d been at this for a long time. You understand, to a degree, why someone might choose this to survive. Some people just didn’t know what else to do. Some people simply enjoyed it; the power, the freedom, the giddiness of not having a system to say no.

From what you understand, these two just had no idea what else to do. Too far off to reach a QZ, or they simply don’t trust FEDRA, whatever it is they seem to have made a life for themselves neither of them looked happy to be in.

Your eyes fall to where Joel is sleeping, Tommy’s on watch, which makes you somewhat hopeful, you don’t have the strength to piss off Joel—Tommy you can take a chance with, he seemed softer. Softer like a rose, pricking you if you’re too lax and not careful enough.

You’ve been captured before, and due to that, it doesn’t take long for you to free yourself from the hard ropes they tied you in. You hold your breath as you move away from the camp, careful not to step on any branches or rubble. You see Tommy ahead, he’s looking at you, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You expect him to shoot, to chase after you.

He continues to stare as you disappear into the night.

ii.

You see a lot of dead bodies by the riverbed. Some infected, some not. You think about turning around, walking back to where you came from but before you can make a decision you’re surrounded. Your hands rise instantly, not wanting to cause trouble. Multiple rifles are pointed directly at you, and you notice a cute black dog but you have an inkling you won’t be feeling the same in a couple of minutes.

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” you say, the cold seeping through your jacket. “Just lost. I’m not infected.”

“Naive for you to think we’ll believe you,” one of the horsemen answers. “You mind if we test that out?”

You didn’t mind, but even if you did, you doubt you have any say in the matter. The dog comes forward, ears pressed against his skull, and you instinctively reach out your hand. You can’t really feel the wetness of his nose, but you can imagine it as he presses into your gloved palm. A moment later he starts wagging his tail.

A horse, along with its rider, steps up and everyone looks nervously at the equestrian. You straighten yourself and notice that even the dog pulls away, the energy she has demands respect, and oozes power. You swallow, looking up at her with both amusement and fear.

"You can come with us," she says, and without hesitation, one of the men helps you up onto the horse they're riding. Your hands fumble nervously as you grab onto the horse's shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

You’re not dead yet so you must be doing something right.

iv.

You trudge through the biting snow, your skin prickles with cold and the relentless flakes melt as soon as they touch your skin. You shudder. The cold is almost unbearable, but everyone has to pull their weight, no exceptions. Narrowing your eyes,, you spot a lone figure struggling in the snow. The way he moves is sluggish and ungainly, like a snail inching its way along a path.

With a sharp whistle, you signal to your companions to follow. They circle around the body with hesitation; it’s a man, a man that is somewhat familiar to you. The stranger groans and turns to his back, chest heaving heavily, you notice the tremble of his lips, the redness of his nose. You even notice the build-up of snow in his hair.

You know him. You have no idea how he ended up all the way here, but you know him. Getting off the horse, you shake your head. You don't know him, not really. You only know his name and what he represents.

Ian approaches, his eyes questioning as he asks, "What should we do? Should we leave him?"

“I know him,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice due to the irony. “Let’s take him in. I’ll talk to Maria.”

His eyes flutter open, a brief expression of confusion appearing on his features. You can’t help but lean over a bit, hands placed on your hips.

“You’re not dead yet. Don’t worry.”

But as soon as the words leave your lips, Tommy loses consciousness.

He’s alone at the bar. He’s always alone.

Initially, Maria was reluctant to let Tommy stay, but for some reason, you vouched for him. You deeply believe that everyone deserves a second chance. A slightly foolish, maybe even childish, thought on your part but you can’t help it. In his eyes you only see parts of a broken man, his belief in the world shattered and gone with the wind.

Tommy struggles with socializing. He says hi and good morning but that’s pretty much all anyone can get out of him. You’re the only one who knows he has a brother, what he’s done. He’s especially annoyed when you’re around, which you think is a little bit unfair but you digress. He does what he’s told and handy with most things—which is lucky for you, you would hear a handful if he couldn’t do anything.

You want to talk to him, you have ever since you first saw him again. Hoping that this time it’ll be different, you sit near him not next to him. There are two empty seats between you two.

“Hi,” you greet him, he doesn’t look at you. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge you at all. “How are you?”

No answer.

“You’re not having any issues right? You know, heating, water pressure, all that jazz.”

You’re not surprised at the least when he gets up and leave, not a word uttered. He pushes past the crowd and disappears through the door, into the cold. Unlike other times, this is the first instance where anger simmers hot in your gut. You’ve been nothing but patient. But not tonight. He’s going to talk to you whether he likes it or not.

With anger in your steps, you storm out. Luckily, he’s not far. You find him staring up at the undecorated Christmas tree. Normally, you would find it a somber sight, but you’re too frustrated to think about how good he looks with snow falling around him.

“Tommy!” you yell out, and he flinches, head snapping to you with wide eyes. “What the hell is your deal?”

“My deal?” he answers, voice eerily smooth and calm. “I should be fuckin’ asking you that.”

You’re standing an inch from him, the cold biting into your skin. “My deal? I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Wouldn’t wanna play that card but may I remind you that you’re fucking alive because of me? You could at least not be an asshole.”

“Sure you wanna go that route sweetheart? Because I could easily say the same thing for you.”

That night—the night that you escaped, so he did see you. All this time you convinced yourself that it was your eyes playing tricks in the dark. You shake your head, wanting to dislodge the moment from your mind.

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” you hiss. “Why are you avoiding me? I just want to talk.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone. You shouldn’t want to talk to me— someone like you… It ain’t normal. I should’ve died that night. I didn’t ask you to fuckin’ save me.”

You’re taken aback by the silent rage but refuse to show him the effect he has. The only indication that his words had any kind of result is when you take a step back, allowing him some semblance of space.

“You’re right, you didn’t,” you say softly, slowly. His gaze bores into you. “But I did. And you’re here. I didn’t save you that night to just make a point of who’s the better person. As you said, you allowed me to go that night—thank you by the way—but what are you going to do, just not talk to me? Ignore me? I don’t think that’s fair for either of us.”

You stand frozen as Tommy takes a step closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"What do you want from me?" he growls, his voice low and threatening.

You try to take a step back but he follows, closing the gap between you. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the frigid air around you. His lips curl into a slight sneer, and you can't help but feel a slight twinge of fear.

"You're always so nice, aren't you?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But what do you really want? You want me to be your little pet? Fixing me up like some broken toy. Well, newsflash, sweetheart, I'm not broken. I'm just fine the way I am."

"That’s not—" you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That wasn’t my intention at all. The world is shit, I just didn’t want to add to it."

Tommy scoffs, his eyes glinting with anger. "But you did by keeping me alive. I did horrible things, things you can’t even imagine. So don't pretend like you understand me, because you don't."

“I know the shit you did Tommy. I was almost one of your victims, remember?”

His eyes drop to the ground, the fire in his eyes finally fading. He takes a quick step back, shoulder slumped, he shakes his head.

“I remember. There ain’t a day I don’t remember the shit I’ve done—we’ve done with my brother.”

Tommy gives you one last look before walking away, “I don’t need your pity.”

Half an hour later, you’re still standing there under the snow, completely alone.

vi.

It’s a dance almost. You find different ways for Tommy to communicate with you. You unlock his anger, his disappointment, his need to be good—the hero, if you will. But to be fair, you can’t take all the credit. It was mostly due to him, you got too close, and he got too frustrated. It was a brief moment of lips touching, then it quickly turned into a desperate ask for submission. You were eager to give, he hated that. Hated that you could when he couldn’t.

You know that there’s a high chance of other things lingering below the surface, things that he probably hadn’t dared to address himself.

In the privacy of your bedroom, you’re on your knees for him. Sucking on the tip of his cock eagerly as he stands upright, his hands are firsts that are stuck to his sides. This isn’t the first time, it isn’t the last. By the way salty precum coats your tongue, you know he’s enjoying himself. He has to be, if he wasn’t this wouldn’t be happening.

You figure that he enjoys fighting against it until he breaks. When he surrenders himself to it, to the pleasure, to the primal need to take, he pins you down and fucks you with everything he has. All his frustration seeps into you, each stroke deeper than the next. You enjoy that he’s rough, you enjoy feeling the lingering sting on your skin long after he leaves.

Looking up, you swallow him further down. He’s not overly thick but long, the dark curls at the base trimmed but still looking untouched. Tommy thrusts forward, the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Your nostrils flare as your lungs convulse with the need to cough, he notices but doesn’t pull back. Instead, you feel two hands cradling the back of your neck, pulling you further down his length, making you take him whole.

Your eyes go wide and squeeze shut right after. You feel him throbbing in your throat and you swallow, again and again, which prompts him to drag his cock out slightly only to bury himself back into your throat. Your jaw aches, spit dripping down the corners of your lips as you flatten your tongue over the underside of his cock. A faint growl echoes from the back of his throat, you swallow again, he fucks your mouth as he would your wet cunt. Tears flood your lashline, you can barely breathe. Your throat tightens around him.

“Fuck, don’t close your eyes,” he grunts, the dark curls at the base tickling your nose. “Look at me. Look at me like you always do.”

The Look, is something that you still don’t quite understand. He says it often, telling you to look at him the way that you do, but you emphasize nothing special when you do end up looking at him. It’s just your normal gaze. He only asks for it when he’s inside you.

You slowly open your eyes, your lashes wet and stuck together. His thumb smooths over the patch of skin right under your eye, his chest stutters, muscles growing taut under your gaze.

Ironically, he closes his eyes and lifts his head as if staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t utter another word after that, your lips raw from the way he thrust forward. You feel the twitch of his cock, thick ropes sliding down your throat. You never tire of the taste of him. Not sweet, not bitter. You enjoy the brief moment he forgets where he is, that soft noise escaping his lips, the juvenile way his thighs shake—those are the things that make you ache for the taste of him. You’re an addict.

But so is he.

vii.

Your palms press into the smooth surface of the bar counter. Tommy lurks behind you, cock pressing inside, fingers making dents into your warm skin. It’s late into the night, you’re not sure of the exact time but you know it’s late. His one hand slips between your legs, he feels how wet you are, how needy you get for him. He presses a finger to your clit, the pads of the digits moving in deft circles.

A sharp moan parts your lips, back arching as he pounds into you, the sound of skin against skin loud, yet not enough to pierce the sound of the snowstorm outside. A dose of pleasure buzzes through your veins, electricity crackling across your skin as you feel his length press deep inside. His fingers grasp your throat, pulling you up until his lips tickle your ear. He heaves, his warm breath fanning your skin.

“Tell me I’m a good person,” he chokes out. “Please.”

“You’re good,” you answer slightly out of breath. You touch his neck, the position slightly straining but worth it when he holds you tighter. “Such a good man—and I mean that.”

Your eyes widen with shock when he slides his tongue into your mouth. Tommy doesn’t kiss you often, if at all, but it lights a fire under your stomach. It burns you from the inside out, the smoke of it making your mind spin. Your eyes flutter close and you take a deep breath, he grinds his hips, your insides pulsing around him.

“I don’t care even if you’re lyin’—”

He releases you and you stumble forward, hands finding purchase on the bar counter once more. But you can’t hold your position for long, not with the way he’s hammering into you, reducing you into a babbling mess. Your hands slide, your upper body completely falling over. Tommy doesn’t pause, he doesn’t even slow down. He presses you further into the surface.

“Because I know that you are.”

Tommy suddenly pulls out, a sharp gasp rips from your throat, your cunt clenching around nothing. Before you can protest, however, he turns you over and pushes you. He kneels between your legs, lips finding the tender folds of your pussy.

Your head falls back when he licks into you eagerly, tasting himself and your arousal. His groans vibrate against you, your thighs threaten to close, the meat of them pressing into both sides of his face.

His lips press against your clit, suckling and teasing it in a way that drives you wild. His tongue moves in circles as he pushes two fingers, curling them and applying pressure. Without a second thought, you fingers thread his hair, tugging him closer. Arousal pools between your legs.

Your breathing becomes labored and your body starts to shake. Your eyes roll back as your entire body shakes. Your hips buck against him as he continues to bring you over the edge, your cries of pleasure echoing off the walls of the bar.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you collapse against the bar counter, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. You can feel your skin tingling, your heart pounding and your head spinning. Tommy stands, a hint of pride lingering in his dark eyes. You continue to breathe and watch as he fists himself, the tip of his cock a shade darker when he comes thick ropes over your stomach. You hiss at the heat, the feeling of having a part of him staining you.

Tommy pulls up his pants, and you notice as you get dressed, he’s avoiding your gaze. You’re too satisfied to care. He licks his lips, which you found was a nervous habit he has and offers you his arm. You hadn’t expected it, but indulge in the gesture by taking it.

“Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.”

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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mskenway97 · 5 months

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Tfp merformers a.u Optimus x Reader.

I felt inspired for this one, I wanted to make it an everyday thing, there is a bit of a language barrier. But I thought it was adorable. I choose a human reader

Warning: None

Words: 829

(Merformers) Tfp Optimus Prime x Gn!Human!Reader

Fishing time

Today was not a lucky day for Y/N. The tide was calm on a sunny day, in the boat. A lot of trash had been picked up this week, no fish were in the area.

Y/N was desperate to catch something, otherwise she was going to get kicked out and the boat was not hers. Although fishing wasn't her thing, she just wanted the boat to see her huge sea friend.... None other than a blue, red and white whale.

Literally that whale had saved her life in a storm. He wanted to know more about her without exposing her to danger. Only the mere thought that Y/N would never see her again tore him apart.

-Let's go mince little fish....

Y/N cast the rod with the bait, only to see that it barely moved after a while he saw that something was moving. Y/N saw the opportunity to cast as hard as he could, "I'm going to get lucky" thought Y/N but as he pulled it out.

Another boot.

-Oh come on! I'm already going to wear a shoe store with so many boots! - Y/N said to himself as he cast the rod again.

This time the rod moved faster, Y/N smiled as he cast it looked like it was going to be the good one but he saw that it was too heavy.

-Come on, it's possible... Ah!

Y/N fell into the water because of the force that pulled the rod. He felt huge hands around him and pulled him out of the water.

To see Optimus somewhat surprised.

-Hello big guy! I didn't expect to find you here - Y/N smiling.

Optimus left me in the boat as he made a few small grunts and pointed to my fishing rod.

- Ah, what do I do? Fishing and I'm not doing so good," said Y/N.

Optimus noticed Y/N's face, which was somewhat frustrated and sad. He had told her to fish... Maybe he needed some help, the big guy dove down leaving Y/N confused, thinking maybe he was in a hurry, after a few moments with no luck he saw that Optimus had returned showing something big in his hands.

- Wait... that's a swordfish! -Y/N was startled as the boat wobbled a bit and she remained calm.

Optimus was confused the quality of the swordfish was a splendid specimen, something Y/N would surely help with.

- People would ask me a lot of questions about how I got it....

Optimus released the swordfish and dived again.

A while later he came back with something else. Y/N walked over to see that it was an octopus that had latched onto it.

Optimus was trying to get it off her. After a while he succeeded but Y/N was a little depressed.

- I'm no good at fishing! I wanted to dive and explore? But if I don't... I won't be able to go back - said Y/N as he sat down Optimus' face was in front of it and nuzzle to Y/N.

It was humid, it was nice especially in summer weather, she smiled a little at the gesture, Optimus purred a little.

- I should make it clear with the fish I want.... Look it would be something like this.

Y/N pulled out a log book of the fish in this area, showing Optimus which ones she wanted.

Those fish, most of them had gone to other waters the record was out of date.... At least since photo was still around the area and they were plentiful.

Optimus carefully dragged the boat.

Y/N did not know where Optimus was taking him as he was unfamiliar with this fishing area. It was a little different than what she was used to seeing until it came to a stop. Y/N heard Optimus grunting and pointing to the fishing pole. Y/N didn't have time to answer him as she had already submerged underwater. Y/N didn't know what he was up to but he took the advice to grab the fishing pole and get on with it.

She waited for a while until he saw that he was biting not trash but several fish! She was amazed as she caught a good amount of fish. Until she saw Optimus come out of the water.- This is great, Optimus with these fish! They won't throw me out are the amount I needed! Thank you so much," said Y/N as she jumped right into his hands and hugged one of his fingers.

Optimus on the other hand was happy to help her. He knew the difficulties Y/N was having with the job had, he met her by accident and seeing her go was not something he wanted her to go. Besides being one of the few beings that freaked out when she saw him.The presence comforted him, it was different....

Maybe next time she would take him to give lessons in something else.But at least they both got the big fish.

#sam writes #transformers #transformers prime #optimus prime #tfp #tfp optimus prime #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #merformers #maccadam #maccadams #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader

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ghoulystay · 10 months

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Jealous?

Simon "Ghost" Riley and y/n story.

Female reader. Smut. 18 and over!

Jealous. One trait Ghost would never show. it wasn't in his nature to be jealous, but you definitely had a plan up your sleeve.

You, Ghost, Soap, Konig, Price, and the rest of the team were on holiday, and you all decided to go to a pub. You, being the only female in the team, never bothered you at all. You got used to it. You all have been a team for a long time now. Every holiday leave, you all would decide to go out together before leave was over. You couldn't wait to get there, especially when you had a plan up your sleeve. You wanted to make Ghost jealous. Why? Because if there was one thing about Ghost that you discovered all the years being together was (jealous Ghost) meant rough and long sex. I mean, sure, you both made love and fucked every day and night but you wanted MORE.

At the Pub. A long night later.

The whole team was drunk at this point. Women throwing themselves at the men was such a funny thing cause it happened everywhere yall went. But you always had fun, Ghost would watch you from afar as he drank his beer. You respected the fact that he wasn't the partying type. You wouldn't want him any other way. As you danced the night away and being buzzed as fuck you thought of your plan. Who to use as the bait? Coincidence, you felt some arms go around your waist, a drunk random man grabs you, and instead of pushing him off, you use this to your advantage. You turn and wrap your arms around his neck and start dancing and laughing. You notice some of the guys from the team look at you and the drunk guy they know exactly what's going to go down. You look towards Ghosts direction, but to your surprise, he's gone as if he vanished.

Where the hell is he? You look everywhere, but he's nowhere to be found. "What the fuck!" You thought. Suddenly, he appears behind the drunk man like a phantom in the shadows appearing.

Ghost didn't hesitate. "POW!" He punches the man in the face. The man falls straight to the floor, knocked the hell out. You look into Ghosts eyes as he looks at you, and he approaches you, grabbing you by the hand he says nothing to neither you nor the team as you both walk away and out of the pub. As he drove you both home, he was silent. You knew he was pist. For some reason, it made you horny.

At home.

He opened the door to the house, waiting for you to walk in first. As you make your way in, you hear the door close behind you as well as the sound of his heavy footsteps behind you. You turn to face him, his face already inches from yours. "Well, princess, what do you have to say for yourself." You feel the heat coming from your body, his eyes dark and sexy filling you up with such desire for him. "I wanted to make you jealous." You accidentally let out a small chuckle. "Is something funny, love?" He says in a firm tone. You were definitely drunk. "Oh, come on, Simon baby, I just wanted to make you jealous is all." You laugh. "Bedroom now." He ordered. You looked at him confused. "That's an order, y/n." He demands. You walk to the bedroom with him walking behind you inches away. He closes the bedroom door and locks it. You face him, ready to ask what he was doing, but before you could speak, he speaks first. "Strip. Now." He demanded. You do as you're told and get completely naked. He takes his shirt off, leaving his mask and pants on. "Get on the bed, princess." You follow his command. You lay your back on the bed, and he gets closer, spreading your legs open he grips your thighs, pulling you closer. You know that's gonna leave marks, but you didn't care. "You wanted me jealous, didn't you?" He says as he begins unzipping his pants, exposing his long and hard cock. "Yes... I wanted you to fuck me rough tonight if I succeeded." You confessed your plan. He gets on top of you both arms above your shoulders as his eyes stare into your soul. "Oh.. is that right... well, I'll definitely give the princess what she wants." As he lifts his mask above his mouth, his lips crash onto yours, he lifts up, getting himself in position, his dick entering your tight little cunt.

"Ah... yes..." Your eyes rolling back, he felt so good inside of you. "You want rough? Hmm." He whispers into your ear. You nod as you bite down on your bottom lip. Without hesitation, he thrusts into you, but this time, he goes deeper and harder. The pain and pleasure mixed together was unfathomable. Body to body, sweat to sweat was the best combination. Your hands roam around on his back, and your nails claw into his skin after each thrust. Each carnal thrust had you screaming and moaning his name.

"Scream baby, scream daddy's name..."

His thrusts got messier and messier, and you loved every second of it. You didn't want it to end. "Fuck!! Oh... Si..mon... yessss.."

His grunts and moans were such a turn-on. You felt your climax approaching. "I'm.. gonna.. ah.. cu.." As he continues to thrust harder, he grabs your hair and pulls it back, looking deep in your eyes. "Cum for daddy princess." He says as he buries his face into your neck. You feel it approaching, and as in command, you both climax together, moaning dirty sins at each other. You both lay there still connected, both out of breath, full of lustful sweat. Foreheads pressed against each other's.

Afterwards.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Simon. That was definitely a stupid game." You tell him as you pull the blankets up to your bodies, getting ready for bed. He turns to you.

"If you want it rough, just say so love." He winks at you. You couldn't help but blush. "I love you, Simon." You reach over to plant a kiss on his lips. Before he kisses you back, he pulls his head away. "I knew all about your plan, lovie." He smiled and winked at you again. You shoved him playfully. "Simon Riley!" You burst into laughter, I mean, how can you stay mad at him. "I'm always down for games, princess." He kisses you as you both sink into the bed for another round.

The End.

#ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod smut #smut #Spotify

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inariizaki · 1 year

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PANORAMA — SHUNTARO C.

sypnosis : after getting stabbed and succeeding in killing the king of spades, you think if chishiya made it out alive.

tags : ooc chishiya, idk how to write angst, very short AND HUGE AIB SPOILERS I GUESS BUT STILL, THER R AIB SPOILERS SOO READ AT UR OWN RISK, mentions of blood, guns(?), n bombs. tell me if missed anything.

note : this will probably have a part two idk it depends...... AND THIS IS MY FIRST CHISHIYA FIC SO EXPECT SOME OOC CHISHIYA..... [ frustrated groan ] also fem reader

everything was chaotic, and luckily, the three of you found an, kuina, aguni and also heiya. there were only two games left. two more games. you'll surely get back to the real world.

“ oh i almost forgot, my good luck charm! ” kuina said, getting something from her pocket.

it was a bomb that chishiya made. you remember him giving you one too.

chishiya.

and arisu came up with a plan, luring the king of spade and using it at a close range. and you liked the idea.

and with usagi, kuina, an, heiya, and aguni they'll be the bait.

“ i'm going…too. ” you said, frowning. usagi smiled.

“ we'll do this together! ” she says, with a confident smile.

you didn't know if arisu's plan succeeded, but you heard an explosion somewhere, so the plan went good, probably.

you couldn't focus, all you can feel was the overflowing pain, in your lower abdomen. yeah. the king of spades stabbed you.

and you couldn't move, the pain hurted like a bitch. you just wanted to end this. after all, it was just one game? is it?

many hours passed, it was getting dark, you were thinking about chishiya. is he alright? oh god. you hope that he makes it out alive.

and oh, you remember that time.

“ what if we get seperated by the time this game almost ends? ” you asked him.

he chuckled, “ i'm sure, we can recognize each other anywhere. ”

you giggled, “ we're one souls, in two bodies. are we? ”

he patted your head, “ yeah. we are. ”

a small memory popping up after the wind. a deep echo in your ear.

your warm tears starts falling on your cold cheeks, not even realizing.

like a shining star in a pitch darkness, we can recognize each other anywhere.

that radiant moment will bloom forever, like a PANORAMA.

“ chishiya. . . ” you stop.

the green hill, the campfire at night before participating in games, you miss those time with him.

so precious, and you'll cherish them all.

“ we're meant to be one, like the first moment we met, my heart beats fast. ”

you'll make a way out of here in borderlands with him. you're sure of it.

“ chishiya, i'll remember this forever, i promise. ”

don't let me down.

: @weronikasstuff , @surshica wanna tag u guys cause idk

#alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro angst #chishiya shuntaro fluff #alice in borderland season 2 #aib imagines #aib spoilers #chishiya x fem!reader #arisu ryohei #usagi yuzuha #kuina hikari #aib kuina #alice in borderland season 1 #chishiya shuntaro x you #chishiya shuntaro imagine #works.

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tenebris-lux · 2 months

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“There are many things in your world that I loathe. Litters of kittens, chattering children—the noise and the chaos of it all. In my world—in my HOUSE—there is order, and there is decorum. You came here uninvited, and you stole from me. In doing so, you brought the chaos of your world into mine. I will not abide it.”

Raphael is, very much understandably, pissed at you. Because who wouldn’t be mad as fuck when you break into their home and steal stuff? I do find his implication of “we don’t do that here” curious. He’s aristocratic, powerful, and influential. He’s a devil, and they’re all about politics and bargaining and compromise.

But his house is in literal Hell. With safeguards, and alarms on the most valuable stuff. You can’t tell me that nothing in that realm would attempt to cheat you in such a “crude” way.

The truth is, he’s mad because you succeeded so much. He looks down on you and the world you’re from—remember when he yelled “I AM NO MERE MORTAL!” out of nowhere?—and you succeeded in invading his home and getting past all his safeguards. You’re RIGHT THERE at the exit by the time he makes it back. He was THAT CLOSE to not catching you on his home turf.

He’s used to taking advantage of people, manipulating them, and coming out holding all the cards. He offered you a deal for something you needed, so sure that his way was the only way for you, and all he had to do was wait patiently for you to finally realize that with your little mortal mind. But he told you where the thing was, and not as intentional bait. He got too cocky.

In short, he’s a sore loser.

So on top of being mad that you broke in and stole and ALMOST GOT AWAY, it’s that you were even able to do any of it at all. That you got one over on him. His best defense for not foreseeing the possibility is, “We just don’t DO that here!” But he’s used to other people doing it for him. He just thought it couldn’t happen to him.

You just showed him that he’s far less secure than he thinks. And he hates it.

#he cheered himself up by singing some boss music though #ah but I love this guy #baldur’s gate spoilers #raphael #raphael bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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nekropsii · 11 months

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this blog is awesome but jas the horroble side effect of making it so anytime i see alpha trolls stiff i get unreasonably mad like. They Are Not Like That. i saw someone call damara chaotic evil and it made mw sooo mad. like i GET IT i get it no one wants to read a billion pages but like. NO ONE IS MAKING U MAKE THESE POSTS... rauaugh. sorry lol

Inflicting you with the horrible knowledge that almost nobody in the god damn fandom actually knows anything about the Alpha Trolls, nor do they care to. And if they do know anything, they often strip them of most if not all of their traits- including their most interesting ones!- for the sake of shipping and/or making an OC with their face and name. It blows. Why do you think you just about never see me reblogging Alpha Troll content? I don't visit any of their tags because if I do, it's just beams of pure unadulterated psychic damage blasted directly into my fucking eyes. Genuinely it feels like people were better at handling them back when Homestuck was still running and the community was still actively a cesspit. At the very least there were some oases of people that had actual brain cells. They've all died out now. They were either chased away by Homestuck's Postcanon- which caused a very real and very, very large exodus- or by the absolutely horrific harassment you'd receive for liking the Alpha Trolls- ESPECIALLY Mituna.

Swerving off topic for a moment to talk about the harassment: I saw a significantly higher number of people that were genuinely normal about Mituna back in the day that handled his disability with more grace than God. Diehard Mituna fans- especially diehard Mituna/Latula shippers- were people you'd be getting intricate guides and long lists of resources surrounding TBIs- including genuinely helpful stuff like the care and treatment of them for anyone who had suffered one recently, that kind of thing- and some of the most touching portrayals of mental disability I'd ever seen. It's a shame a lot of their stuff is either gone or nearly impossible to find nowadays, on account of Tumblr's search system prioritizing new content, and... You know... The vicious harassment people would get for even saying they liked him in the first place. I'm talking, like, Cronus-tier shit. People were getting called slurs and being told to kill themselves, even when what they made was handled with the most tact physically possible. It still happens to this day, at least to me. It's pretty deranged! Always has been.

Back on topic, though... Urgh. Damara being read as Chaotic Evil... Me when I take the bait of a blatantly abusive misogynist with zero ounce of critical thought. Damara isn't evil, she's just reactive. There's a big difference. "Evil" implies she struck first and is totally unjustified in her actions, and is only doing them because she wants to. She's an incredibly tortured soul who is, in my honest opinion, reasonably responding to her situation. If anything, I think she should have done worse. I think she should have straight up killed Rufioh. Meenah too, but... Well, she definitely tried to do that, and almost succeeded, but Aranea put her in her Quest Cocoon, so... She's here and Godtier, instead of dead in the ground. Unfortunate. Damara both needed and deserved that kill more than anything else in the world.

#homestuck #homestuck fandom #homestuck meta #homestuck analysis #alpha trolls #beforan trolls #dancestors #mituna captor #damara megido #cw ableism #cw misogyny #cw abuse #<== all only mentioned. but still. tagging for those who dont wanna hear about that today.#homestuck.pdf #mituna.pdf #damara.pdf #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

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anonymousewrites · 8 months

Text

One Hell of a Love (Book 1.5) Chapter Ten

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Ten: One Hell of a Camera

Summary: A strange woman with a camera is convinced by a man with golden eyes to go on a rampage, and (Y/N) and Sebastian have to clean up the mess and handle a troublesome reaper in red.

“An aspect of the Phantomhives’ past that I don’t know about?” said Ciel as the carriage pulled away from the mansion to take him, Sebastian, and (Y/N) to his latest assignment.

“It is no wonder,” said Sebastian, treading carefully. “You had to assume responsibility for the Phantomhive household before the late head could tell you everything.”

“Well, I couldn’t ask for a better chance,” said Ciel. “If I, the new family head, solve a case my father was involved in, news will spread in the underworld, and they will undoubtedly make a move.”

(Y/N) watched him speak, knowing he had no idea he had already solved cases for Her Majesty, such as Jack the Ripper. So far, there had been few issues after the…incident with his soul. His confusion remained clear at times, but there had been no major problems. If Sebastian was lucky, there would be no more issues. (Alas, (Y/N) was a black cat. They knew fortune changed easily).

“Do you intend to use yourself as bait?” Of course, Sebastian already knew Ciel’s plan since they had gone through it and succeeded in baiting the angel behind the Phantomhives’ demise.

“I’ll drag the ones who hurt my pride and ruined my name out into the open and punish them as they deserve,” said Ciel. His eyes hardened. “I’ll go to any lengths.”

How unfortunate. There is no one for him to get revenge on left, thought (Y/N).

“What if you discover they are already dead?” said Sebastian.

“In that case, I’ll tear apart their rotten flesh and scoop out the truth,” said Ciel. “That is all.”

Sebastian smirked. “That is my master.”

“It looks like you’re having a hard time, Lord Randall,” said Ciel as he walked up to the crime scene. A large burn mark from the strange fiery death suffered there recently blackened the ground and wall.

“Ciel Phantomhive,” said Randall.

Ciel held up the letter with the Queen’s seal. “Would you mind updating me on the status of the investigation?”

Randall was annoyed but complied. “We haven’t made any progress worth mentioning.”

“Have you found any differences between this and the previous incident?” asked Ciel. He smirked. “This has happened before, right? There were cases similar to this?”

“So, you know about that,” muttered Randall.

“You have just confirmed it. Thank you,” said Ciel. “Would you mind showing me the records?”

“There is nothing left,” said Randall.

“What?” said Ciel.

“Not that I would show you even if there was, of course,” said Randall, crossing his arms. “Scotland Yard will shed light on this case. We will find the cause, the culprit, and any connections to past incident. There is no place for you here.”

“I wish that were so,” said Ciel. “Let’s go, Sebast—” He deadpanned.

(Y/N) turned and blinked. Sebastian was fawning over a group of street cats. (Y/N) watched with an amused smile as he blushed and petted them, their cold heart twisting happily at seeing him like the creature of their motif so much.

“Round, innocent eyes, unaware of this world’s impurities…A tail that lends its cuteness an air of refinement…some, rosy paws!” Sebastian cuddled two of the kittens close to him.

“I always knew you picked me to mentor for a reason,” said (Y/N), their voice light and teasing.

Sebastian froze as he looked up at them. Ah. Yes. (Y/N) was a cat demon. And he was fawning over cats… He cleared his throat and stood up. He really couldn’t quite remember if he liked (Y/N) because he liked cats or he liked cats because he liked (Y/N). With his feelings now, it all became a bit…hazy.

“Well, I admit I have an inclination towards cats,” said Sebastian. He had recovered his wits quickly. “They are quite adorable.”

(Y/N)’s heart clenched, and they rolled their eyes. “Don’t tease me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Sebastian.

“Hurry up, you cat freaks,” muttered Ciel, walking past them.

Sebastian and (Y/N) followed him as he got back into the carriage. “What do you plan to do now?” asked (Y/N).

“If the Yard is useless, then there is only one place to go,” said Ciel.

Undertaker’s raucous laughter knocked the sign from his shop. Ciel had, of course, an irk mark as the cackles continued. (Y/N) watched the boy and man’s reactions in amusement. Sebastian continued his “comedy set.”

“Ah, Great Britain indeed!” said Sebastian in an exaggeratedly lower-class accent. “Wait. What the hell? I can’t stand ya no more!” He bowed and switched to his regular voice. “Thank you for watching.”

“Excellent,” giggled Undertaker as he pulled himself to flop on a coffin. “I never expected to see such stand-up in this country. I couldn’t have imagined this for a second.”

“He was just talking to himself,” said Ciel.

“You gave me a fine performance!” said Undertaker. “I shall keep my word.” He put down a vial of shimmering dust.

“I want to see the ashes of the victims,” said Ciel.

“Indeed.” Undertaker waved the vial around again. “Here they are, Earl. I scraped this up at the crime scene. They burned at such a high temperature, only ashes remained.” He tossed the vial to Ciel.

The Earl examined it. “Hm.”

“Perhaps we should go to the funeral to see if there’s any links between suspects. Friends, relatives, something of that sort,” suggested (Y/N).

Ciel nodded. “We shall.”

(Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel stood behind the rest of the funeral procession as the coffin, containing only a shoe, was lowered into the ground. The poor widowed husband was crying as people apologized for his loss. Even a photographer and his wife delivered a free photograph of him and his wife from before her death. As the photographer and his wife passed them as they departed, (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. A slight shimmer of particles in the air trailed the couple.

Ciel glanced up at the demons, and they met his gaze.

“The material found in the ashes is identical to that which we gathered from the photographer and his wife,” reported Sebastian to Ciel.

“Magnesium oxide,” said (Y/N). “It is what remains after flash photography burns magnesium.”

“Photography, you say?” said Ciel.

“I also managed to gain information regarding its import from Mr. Lau,” said Sebastian. He and (Y/N) glanced at one another. Lau had been civil and his usually “innocent” façade, their battle notwithstanding since Ciel couldn’t remember it.

“A photo studio recently imported an unusually large supply,” said (Y/N). “Too much for simple flash photography in such a small studio.”

“Yes. Moreover, the victims have one thing in common: they all had their wedding photos taken a few days before the incident,” said Sebastian.

“All at Turner Photography,” said (Y/N).

Ciel stood. “Let’s go. That couple knows the truth.”

“Very well,” said Sebastian.

“Well, it looks like we’re a bit late,” remarked (Y/N) as they looked at the burning Turner Photography studio.

“It does confirm our suspicions, however,” said Sebastian.

“That’s the wife,” said Ciel, pointing to a woman running out of the building.

The wife laughed and threw magnesium handfuls around her. “Happiness! Where is happiness?” she cackled.

Ciel, Sebastian, and (Y/N) ran after her. The wife pressed the flash of the camera, and the magnesium erupted in a fiery blast.

“Young Master!” Sebastian covered Ciel from the explosion.

“She’s using that camera to start fires. Seize her!” ordered Ciel.

“Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian, bowing.

“With pleasure,” said (Y/N).

They all took off after the pyromaniac once more. As they turned into an alleyway, however, a figure in red dropped down at them. (Y/N) braced themself and caught the flat edges of a chainsaw before it cut them.

Sebastian drew up beside them, and Ciel paused, eyes widened as something registered as he gazed at the shade of red. An explosion of magnesium brought him back to his senses as quickly as his mind had drifted.

“You, really?” (Y/N) narrowed their eyes in irritation, and their nose twitched.

“It’s been so long, darling (Nickname)!” said Grell, grinning wildly.

“So, you were pulling the strings, Grell,” said Sebastian.

“The only string I’m pulling is the red string of fate that bind me to you, Seb—Ack!” Sebastian kicked Grell in the face to get her away from (Y/N).

“How mean! Don’t be rough with me!” cried Grell.

“You challenged us first,” said (Y/N).

“I just go excited and slashed at you! No need to get serious,” pouted Grell. “I was chasing that woman, too.”

“You were? You should stick to that next time,” said (Y/N), unimpressed.

“Is this weirdo an acquaintance of yours?” said Ciel, stepping forward.

Ah, yes, he doesn’t remember her, thought (Y/N).

“She collects the souls of the dead. She is a Grim Reaper,” said Sebastian.

“A Grim Reaper? I didn’t know there were others like you,” said Ciel.

Grell looked at him in confusion but shrugged off the strange forgetfulness of the Earl (which was good since (Y/N) couldn’t be bothered to deal with Grell messing up anything).

“I suppose you came to collect the souls of this incidents’ victims?” said Sebastian.

Grell skipped closer to the demons. “But now that I’ve found you two, my work is at an end!” she cooed. “Now it’s for the three of us to have some fun~.”

(Y/N) looked at Sebastian, ignoring Grell. “Let’s go. It could be troublesome for the Lord’s reputation if that woman kills more people with magnesium.”

“I agree. We don’t have time for nonsense,” said Sebastian.

“Hey! Pay attention to me!” pouted Grell. But she was annoyed as Sebastian, (Y/N), and Ciel avoided her and continued on. “Oh, wait for me!”

People screamed and burned as the arsonist ran through the streets of London, throwing magnesium and igniting it every few moments. (Y/N) and Sebastian turned after her into an alley, but she disappeared from sight.

“Oh, did she give you the slip?” cooed Grell.

“Grell, should you not attend to your own job?” said Sebastian.

“I am a huntress of love; my job is to catch you,” said Grell, grinning ear-to-ear. Her gaze grew more somber. “Plus, I only have one soul to collect.”

“Only one?” (Y/N) furrowed their brow.

Grell opened her book. “Margaret Turner. After committing indiscriminate mass murder, she will burn herself to death at 12:05 am. According to the record book, hers is the only soul I need to collect.”

“What about those burning?” said (Y/N). A scream of someone burning to death punctuated their words.

“You see? That woman’s victims are completely consumed, their souls included,” said Grell.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. Now that was more of a threat to his Young Master (and his own meal). An explosion from atop Big Ben took his attention.

“Sebastian, the Earl is up there, isn’t he?” sighed (Y/N). He certainly knows how to make Sebastian worry for his soul.

Sebastian tsked. “He is.” The clocktower rang midnight.

“You said she dies at 12:05, correct?” remarked (Y/N) with a glance at Grell.

“Ooh, so you did pay attention to me. How lovely~!” said Grell excitedly.

“We should hurry, Sebastian,” said (Y/N).

“Indeed,” he replied.

“Wait, what are you going to do?” asked Grell.

“Seize that woman as the Young Master ordered,” said Sebastian.

“But there’s no time left,” said Grell.

“How could we be Phantomhive servants if we could not do this?” remarked Sebastian with a smirk.

(Y/N) smiled coyly at Grell. “Shall we go then, Grell?”

“Oh, yes, please, darling! But why me?” asked Grell, turning red.

“Well, the Young Master is hardly appropriate for Mrs. Turner to take photos of. I think it should be you,” said (Y/N), smirking. Maybe you’ll be burned and I won’t have to deal with you again.

Hearts were in Grell’s eyes, and Sebastian wanted to poke them out for looking so adoringly at (Y/N). “Then, I will show you my sexy shots!”

Grell’s Death Scythe revved to life, and she began to ride it up the clocktower. Sebastian and (Y/N) shook their head at her eagerness and ran up the side of Big Ben after her.

“What’s that?!” cried Mrs. Turner angrily when she spotted them.

“My butler, maid, and a nutcase,” said Ciel.

“Actually, I’m a deadly efficient Reaper!” declared Grell.

“Don’t get in my way!” yelled Mrs. Turner, dumping magnesium down at them. She pressed the flashbulb of the camera, and the magnesium exploded, but Grell continued upwards.

Hell, Reapers are immune to it. How unfortunate, sighed (Y/N).

“Wh-Why? Why aren’t you burning?” stammered Mrs. Turner. She pressed the flashbulb over and over, but nothing happened to Grell, who was serving as a lovely distraction.

“How like demons to use a reaper as a decoy,” said Ciel, smirking as he watched his servants approach.

Grell vaulted over Mrs. Turner, and the pyromaniac turned to face her angrily. Grell posed as Mrs. Turner took photo after deadly photo. “The more a woman is photographed, the more she matures, growing redder and sweeter! In other words, she becomes a riper, scarlet fruit. Ah! It’s oozing out of my every pore! Yes, I am the Queen of Fruits!”

“And of fools,” remarked (Y/N), leaning against the edge of Big Ben. “Although that may go to Mrs. Turner for attempting to escape us.” They smirked when Mrs. Turner started in surprise at their voice.

“You’re late,” scowled Ciel.

“I am sorry,” said Sebastian, bowing.

“I told you to burn!” shouted Mrs. Turner. Sebastian kicked up, and the camera went flying from her hands. “Why?!”

“If this is what the Young Master orders, then doing it becomes natural,” said Sebastian, fixing his tie.

“Wh-What are you people?” questioned Mrs. Turner.

“We are a hell of a pair of servants,” said Sebastian, smirking.

“I’m a deadly efficient Reaper!” declared Grell.

“You will tell us the truth,” said Ciel, stepping towards Mrs. Turner.

She began crying. “I was told that if I did this, many gorgeous men would fall in love with me.”

“Who told you that?” asked (Y/N). Humans were prone to foolish desires, so they moved onto discovering more about the crime itself.

“Someone with golden eyes,” said Mrs. Turner. Shimmering particles began to collect around Mrs. Turner. She burst into flame before she could say more.

“No way! Her soul is burning too!” cried Grell.

“A burning love! Happiness!” cried Mrs. Turner as she stumbled around aflame. She cackled as she felt into her stock of magnesium.

“Wait, I still need to ask you—!”

“Young Master!” Sebastian interrupted Ciel to pull him away from the explosion, grabbing (Y/N)’s wrist in the same moment. The eruption of magnesium shook Big Ben as Sebastian and (Y/N) landed on the streets below without a trace of ash or soot on their uniforms. “Young Master, are you hurt?” asked Sebastian calmly.

“I’m fine,” said Ciel, getting to his own feet.

“No way!” grumbled Grell as she gazed back up at the smoking top of the clocktower. “The soul I was supposed to collect was burned away. I can’t believe it. This makes no sense!” She sighed. “I need to submit a report to Will.” She bounded over to Sebastian and (Y/N) and held up the camera in front of them. “I’ll be satisfied with this!” Sebastian looked away, and (Y/N) rolled their eyes while Grell took the picture, beaming all the while. “Next time, let me take some night-time pictures of the three of us having more fun! Bye-bye!” Grell ran off before (Y/N) or Sebastian could try to destroy the picture.

“Young Master, you ordered me to seize that woman, but…” Sebastian held out ashes; the only remains of Mrs. Turner left.

“She was burned to ashes,” said Ciel. “A woman, driven by greed, committed these horrible acts. That is what I shall report to the Queen. She wanted to be loved. That single-minded desire can drive humans to such lengths, apparently. Honestly! How pointless. To do all of that for such a shapeless, meaningless concept such as love…”

Neither demon replied. Their thoughts on love tended in a different direction as they stood side-by-side.

Ciel tsked. “Whatever the cause, we have more to investigate.” He looked at Sebastian and (Y/N). “Investigate who this ‘someone with golden eyes’ is. That is the culprit behind the madwoman. And furthermore, look into the Spider. I want to know why the Queen considered putting him on this case.”

“Yes, my Lord,” said (Y/N).

“Yes, Young Master,” said Sebastian.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. The Trancy butler had gold eyes.

Taglist:

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@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames

@iamsexytrash

#one hell of a love #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #black butler sebastian #sebastian x demon!reader #demon reader #demon!reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis #black butler fic #black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji x reader

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serickswrites · 1 year

Note

Hiii! I was wondering if you would write something about a stoic whumper capturing a defiant caretaker in order to make whumpee give themself up? I don’t know about you, but self sacrifice whump is just MMM

Anyway I love your writing and I won’t be offended if you don’t like the prompt lol

Hello, Anon! I absolutely can write this for you! Please enjoy.

Warnings: captivity, restraints, gags, hostage situation, implied torture, self sacrifice

“UNHAND ME FUCKHEAD!” Caretaker roared as they struggled in the net Whumper had used to trap them.

Whumper didn’t respond. They continued to tighten the ropes that kept Caretaker bound. They didn’t need to respond. They had other things that were more important than replying to their bait.

“Did you hear me, you uncultured swine? You pile of putrid vomit. UNHAND ME NOW!” Caretaker struggled even harder. But it was no use, Whumper had succeeded in trapping them and binding them so thoroughly there was no escape.

“Do shut up,” Whumper muttered as they began to drag Caretaker along behind them.

“I WILL NOT! I WILL SHOUT AND SCREAM! YOU WILL NOT KNOW PEACE UNTIL YOU RELEASE ME!”

“Scream all you want, it’ll just make Whumpee come for you faster. And then you’ll have what you want. And I’ll have what I want.”

Caretaker stopped struggling. “What do you mean?”

Whumper looked down and gave a sinister smile. “You aren’t what I’m trapping, Caretaker. I just needed you to coax Whumpee out of hiding.”

Caretaker’s mouth went dry. “They won’t come for me. They will know what you have planned.”

Whumper nodded. “They know what awaits them at my hand, yes. But they’ll come for you. They’ll always come for you.”

“WHUMPEE IF YOU CAN HEAR ME RUN! STAY AWAY! LEAVE ME! RUN!”

Whumper ignored Caretaker and continued to their next stop. The sooner they got there, the sooner Whumpee would arrive. And the sooner they could have Caretaker off their hands. And the sooner they could begin Whumpee’s pain.

Caretaker continued to scream and shout, hoping that Whumpee would hear them. Would hear them and would listen for once in their life. “LEAVE ME!” They shouted, though their throat was ragged and dry. They had to be sure Whumpee heard them. Heard them and stayed away.

“Let them go,” Whumpee’s soft voice came from the other side of the clearing.

“WHUMPEE! NO, THEY’RE GOING TO—“

Whumper silenced Caretaker by shoving an old rag in their mouth, effectively gagging them. “Sweet relief. Nice of you to join us, Whumpee.”

Whumpee watched Whumper warily. They never looked at Caretaker, though Caretaker was furiously trying to spit out the gag. “Let them go, Whumper. You have what you want, so let them go.”

Whumper regarded Whumpee carefully. “On your knees.”

Whumpee dropped to their knees without complaint, raising their hands above their head. “I’m unarmed. Let them go and you can do whatever you will with me.”

Whumper circled Whumpee for a moment. They kicked out at Whumpee, sending Whumpee sprawling in the dirt. Whumpee rose up again, finally making eye contact with Caretaker. “They’re going to let you go, Caretaker,” Whumpee spoke carefully, their tone not betraying any emotions they were feeling. “They’re going to let you go and you need to run. Run as fast and far as you can.”

Caretaker shook their head violently, blinking hard against the tears that threatened to spill down their cheeks. They couldn’t believe they had been so reckless to think they could take Whumper on their own. They had done all of this to protect Whumpee. And Whumper had been counting on their arrogance.

“Run fast and run far, Caretaker. And,” Whumpee’s voice finally broke, “and forget about me. Don’t come looking for me, Caretaker. You have to live,” Whumper restrained Whumpee’s hands tight against their back. Whumpee winced. “You have to live for the both of us now.”

Caretaker shrieked against their gag as Whumper kicked Whumpee once more. Kicked Whumpee and dragged them to the edge of the clearing by their hair. Whumpee didn’t fight, didn’t cry out, but Caretaker knew they were in pain. Whumper returned and cut Caretaker free. “You heard them, run along. Run along and let me have my fun with Whumpee.”

With a savage growl, Caretaker lunged at Whumper. Whumper sidestepped and sighed. “You are so stupid.”

Whumpee cried out, “NO!” As Whumper’s fist collided with Caretaker’s temple.

Caretaker’s world became fuzzy. Caretaker blinked up, not realizing they had fallen, at Whumper’s face. “Just for that little display, I am going to make sure Whumpee pays for your insolence, Caretaker.” Whumper kicked Caretaker hard. They leaned down, their lips against Caretaker’s ear as Caretaker gasped for air. “And when I leave their mutilated corpse in your bed, just know that it didn’t have to go that way for them. But you made that choice. This is your fault, Caretaker.”

As Caretaker struggled to catch their breath to chase after Whumper, Whumper kicked them again and again until they didn’t try to rise any longer. Whumper’s laughter filled their ears as they rolled onto their side. Black spots filled their vision, but what they saw still had them fighting to rise up. Whumpee finally began to struggle in Whumper’s grasp, clearly desperate to get to Caretaker. The last thing Caretaker saw before the darkness consumed them was Whumpee’s fearful face. As they sank into the dark, Caretaker vowed that would not be the last they saw of Whumpee. And they would make sure that Whumper wouldn’t make good on their promise.

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw restraints #tw gags #tw hostage situation #tw implied torture #tw self sacrifice #requests #queue

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starstruckphantommoon · 4 days

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Polar Opposites - Book 2: Earth - Chapter 2: The Cave of Two Lovers

It’s been two days since the incident at the Earth Kingdom base where general Fong had tried to force Aang into the Avatar State. He had succeeded in his plan only by using Katara as literal bait to trigger it. Lucky for you and the others though, the situation didn’t go too far, atleast to the point where people died. Currently, you, your siblings, and Aang are taking a break from flying to Omashu. Aang is practicing waterbending with Katara while you practice by yourself. Sokka is just lounging around lazily, using a large leaf as a boat, Momo laying in his lap. “You guys are gonna be done soon, right?” Sokka asks as he floats past you, Aang and Katara. “We've got a lot of ground to cover if we wanna make it to Omashu today.”

Katara drops her bending stance and slumps at your brother’s statement, turning to face him with an arched eyebrow as she replies. “What, like you're ready to go right now, naked guy?” “I can be ready in two minutes. Seriously.” Sokka replies as he lifts his hair to look at the two of them and lets his arm drop lazily back into the water. “Whenever.” he continues, which makes you roll your eyes at him before returning to practicing your bending. “So, you were showing me the octopus form.” Aang says to Katara. “Right. Let me see your stance.” Katara replies. Aang gets into his stance and Katara evaluates his stance. After a moment, she comes over to correct it. “Your arms are too far apart. See, if you move them closer together you protect your center. You got it?” You see Aang blush at how close Katara is to him and you smirk slightly, knowing that he has a majorly obvious crush on your little sister. “Oh... yeah. Thanks.” Aang replies, slightly flustered. Katara drops her hold on him and walks back to her former position. She turns around to face him once again in a bending stance. “Okay, let's see what you got.”

Aang raises some water up from the river, and with a smooth motion he causes the blob of water to sprout about a dozen, wide tentacles. Katara then begins to rapidly fire icicles at him. The first one is grabbed and deflected in mid air by one of Aang's water tentacles. After several more are deflected, Aang, who dodges Katara's icicles, uses one of his water tentacles to lash at Katara. Katara is slightly surprised when one of Aang’s water tentacles grabs her leg and yanks tight. Katara then straightens, placing her hands on her hips with a smile. “You make a fine octopus, pupil Aang.” she says as Aang is now encased in a bubble of water, his arms and consequently, his tentacles waving lazily around him, which causes you to giggle. He’s clearly having fun imitating an octopus.

You’re about to concentrate on my bending again when you hear faint music and singing coming from behind you. You and the others turn towards where the sound is coming from. A few seconds later a group of people dressed in colorful clothing walking towards you, playing instruments and singing. “Don't fall in love with a traveling girl. She'll leave you broke and broken hearted…” The man with the guitar sings softly as he and the rest of the group walk towards the four of you. “Heh-hey! River people!” The man with the guitar says as he finally notices us, smiling and pointing briefly at us. “We’re not river people.” Katara says back. “You’re not?” the man asks, confused. “Well then what kind of people are ya?” “Just… people.” Aang replies hesitantly. “Aren't we all, brother?” the man asks with a smile.

“Who’re you?” Sokka asks, pointing an accusatory finger at the group in front of us, as he walks up to where he’s standing next to me with Momo perched on his shoulder. “I’m Chong, and this is my wife Lily.” the man says, indicating the woman on his left who curtsies. “We’re nomads, happy to go wherever the wind takes us!” he continues happily before he riffs on his guitar. “You guys are nomads?” Aang asks. “That’s great! I’m a nomad.” he continues with a smile. “Hey, me too.” Chong says. “I know… you just said that.” Aang replies flatly. “Oh.” Chong says before his attention wanders elsewhere, then to Sokka. “Nice underwear.” Sokka’s eyes bulge at the sudden realization that he’s wearing very little in front of complete strangers. He grabs Momo and places him strategically over his body and sidles rapidly off to the side.

You sit next to Katara as Lily puts many flowers in your (hair length), hair. We’ve been listening to Chong’s many stories on where they’ve been over the years. They’ve been to so many places, it’s amazing! Maybe after the war’s over you’ll go and travel the world like they do. That would be amazing! “Hey, Sokka,” Aang calls as Sokka walks towards us. “you should hear some of these stories. These guys have been everywhere.” Chong stops playing his guitar. “Well, not everywhere, little arrowhead. But where we haven't been we've heard about through stories and songs.” You see Sokka raise an eyebrow in skepticism at his statement. “They said they’ll take us to see a giant nightcrawler.” Aang says to your brother excitedly. “On the way there’s a waterfall that creates a never-ending rainbow.” Moku says dreamily, as he lays on the ground, staring up at the sky. “Look, I hate to be the wet blanket here, but since both Katara and (Y/N) are busy I guess it's up to me.” Sokka says firmly, causing both you and Katara to glance up at him crossly. “We need to get to Omashu.” he states. “No sidetracks, no worms, and definitely no rainbows.” he lists off the verboten distractions on his hand. “Whoa... sounds like someone's got a case of ‘destination fever,’ heh. You're worried too much about where you're going.” Chong says to him. “You've gotta focus less on the ‘where’ and more on the ‘going.’” Lily says from behind me, tugging on your hair as she moves her hands around, your head moving over to the side as she does, causing you to wince slightly in pain. “O. Ma. Shu.” Sokka says emphatically as he exaggerates each syllable. “Sokka's right.” Katara says, making the group of nomads look at her. “We need to find king Bumi so Aang can learn earthbending somewhere safe.” she continues and you nod in agreement. “Well, sounds like you're headed to Omashu.” Chong says which makes Sokka smack his forehead in exasperation. “There's an old story about a secret pass... right through the mountains.” he finishes ominously. “Is this real or a legend?” you ask him skeptically. “Oh, it's a real legend. And it's as old as earthbending itself.” Chong answers before he starts playing his guitar and singing.

Secret Tunnel Song - (Watch 0:00 - 0:23 for Part 1 of the song)

He stops. “Yeah, and I forget the next couple of lines, but then it goes…” he says before singing again.

Secret Tunnel Song - (Watch 0:23 - 0:38 for Part 2 of the song (Timestamp is in the description!))

He finishes the song, making the rest of the nomads, Aang, Katara and you to clap enthusiastically. “I think we'll just stick with flying. We've dealt with the Fire Nation before. We'll be fine.” Sokka says to Chong and the rest of the nomads. “Yeah. Thanks for the help, but Appa hates going underground and we need to do whatever makes Appa most comfortable.” Aang agrees smiling widely at the end of this statement.

We didn’t fly for very long before we were spotted by Fire Nation soldiers. Currently, you’re flying on Appa, dodging the many fireballs coming at you. “AAAAAHHHHH!” You all scream as Appa continues to dodge the fireballs that are flying toward you.

You and the others find the group of nomads again, leaning against a log in the forest. “Secret love cave. Let’s go.” Sokka says unenthusiastically as the four of you are covered in ash from all of the fireballs that the Fire Nation soldiers were launching towards you.

“How far are we from the tunnel?” Sokka asks as you walk with Chong’s group along a wide road lined with what look like the ruins of ancient temples of some sort. “Actually, it’s not just one tunnel.” Chong answers. “The lovers didn’t want anyone to find out about their love, so they built a whole labyrinth.” he explains. Sokka turns to us in a pose of horror, his hands holding the sides of his head. “‘Labyrinth’?!” “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” Chong shrugs, making Sokka turn and begin walking again, the rest of us following him. “All you need to do is trust in love.” Lily says. “According to the curse.” At her statement, Sokka stops, standing bolt upright. “‘Curse’?!” he shouts out in exasperation as you and the others pass him, which makes you roll your eyes at him before grabbing him by the arm and dragging him along with you.

Ten minutes later, you all get to an ominous entrance to a large tunnel in the cliff face of the mountain. “Hey-hey, we’re here!” Chong cheers happily. You look on top of the entrance seeing writing engraved there. It must be something about the curse that Lily had mentioned earlier. “What exactly is this curse?” Sokka asks. “The curse says that only those who trust in love can make it through the caves. Otherwise you’ll be trapped in them forever.” Chong says. “And die.” Lily states. “Oh, yeah, and die.” Chong agrees. “Hey, I just remembered the rest of that song.” he exclaims as he walks up to the entrance of the cave. “And die!” He sings low and dramatically after he strums a chord on his guitar. “That’s it! There’s no way we’re going through some cursed hole!” Sokka exclaims.

“Hey, someone’s making a big campfire!” Moku exclaims cheerfully as he points at something in the distance. You and the others turn around to see a shaft of smoke in the distance. ‘Fire Nation.’ you think while glaring at the column of smoke. “That's no campfire, Moku.” Katara says to him. “That’s Fire Nation.” Sokka says. “They’re tracking us.” you state, still glaring at the column of smoke. “So all you need is to trust in love to get through these caves?” Aang asks Chong with an uncertain expression on his face. “That is correct, master arrowhead.” Chong replies. Aang turns around to look at Katara, and you smile at him, knowing that he’s in love with my sister. Aang turns away from Katara and looks back at Chong with a smile. “We can make it.” “Everyone into the hole!” Sokka says to the rest of us and we start walking into the cave.

You and the others have only been in the cave for a few minutes when the mountain starts rumbling. You all turn back to the entrance in horror as it collapses trapping you all inside. Luckily Chong had found a torch to give you some sort of light which causes you to see poor Appa, who’s clawing at the collapsed entrance of the cave, trying to dig his way out. “It’s okay, Appa. We’ll be fine.” Katara says to him sympathetically as she puts her hand on his side to calm him down. “I hope.” she continues softly, and less confidently. “We will be fine.” Sokka reassures her. “All we need is a plan. Chong, how long do these torches last?” “Eh, about two hours each.” Chong answers. “And we have five torches so that’s…,” Lily says as she takes the other four torches she’s holding and strikes them on the ground like matches, lighting all of them instantly. “Ten hours.” she continues. “It doesn’t work like that if they’re all lit at the same time!” Sokka says while grabbing the torches from her and stomping them out. “Ohh, right.” Lily says, realizing that Sokka has a point. Sokka climbs up Appa’s side and rummages through his bag, grabbing some parchment. “I’m gonna make a map to keep track of exactly where we’ve been. Then we should be able to solve it like a maze and get through.” he continues, holding the parchment in his arms, leading us deeper into the cave.

“Sokka, this is the tenth dead end you’ve led us to.” you say to your twin as he fools around with the map that he’s made. “This doesn’t make any sense; we already came through this way.” Sokka responds, looking at the rocks in front of us. “We don’t need a map. We just need love.” Chong says. “The little guy knows it.” he continues pointing over at Aang. “Yeah, but I wouldn't mind a map, also.” Aang replies. “There’s something strange here. There’s only one explanation.” Sokka says, making you and the others look at him in confusion. “The tunnels are changing.” he states as he turns to face all of us, just as a low rumble comes through the tunnel, making all of you look up in worry. “The tunnels… they’re a-changin’. Ah, it must be the curse.” Chong says worriedly. “I knew we shouldn’t have come down here.” “Right.” Sokka agrees sarcastically. “If only we listened to you.” “Everyone be quiet. Listen.” Katara says to us.

Everyone quiets down and you hear something in the darkness up ahead of your little group. Momo jumps off of Sokka’s shoulder and flies off into the darkness behind you. Sokka looks in the direction that the sounds are coming from. It’s quiet for a few seconds before a creature comes flying toward Sokka, knocking him over. “It's a giant flying thing with teeth!” Chong exclaims as you run over to Sokka to help him up to his feet. “No! It’s a wolf-bat!” Moku shouts as the wolf-bat lands on four legs, folding its wings, snarling at us.

After snarling at you and the others a bit, it launches back into the air, flying over our heads. Sokka tries to burn it with the torch, but fails. The wolf-bat hits the torch, making it slip out of Sokka’s hand and fly towards Appa, burning his foot. Appa rears up and cries out in pain before he runs around in anguish, hitting the cave walls and causing a cave in. As rocks from the roof fall towards us, Aang sends a blast of air to get you, Sokka, Chong, the rest of the nomads and I out of the way.

Sokka holds you close to him as the dust from the collapse settles. “You alright?” he asks as he loosens his grip around you. You nod silently, looking at the collapse in worry, hoping that Aang and Katara didn’t get crushed by the rubble… Seems like you’re not the only one that had this thought because Sokka rushes over to the obstruction and begins to dig through it frantically. “Yeah, it’s no use. We’re separated.” Chong says to him calmly as you get to your feet. “But at least you have us, heh heh.” he continues, a giant smile on his face as he looks down at your twin brother.

At Chong’s statement Sokka freezes for a moment as his statement sinks in. Then unleashes a howl of despair. “Noooooooo!” he screams out as he begins digging at the rocks frantically again before causing a mini cave-in on his head. You walk over to him after a moment, clearing the debris from him. “Come on Sokka, we should get moving.” you say to him, giving him your hand to take so that you can help him up. He takes and you pull him up to his feet. As he brushes so dirt off of him he turns his head back to the collapsed wall behind him, causing you to place a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “And don’t worry about Aang and Katara, they’ll be fine.” “Alright…” He nods hesitantly. “Let’s get moving everybody.” And with that the two of you lead Chong and the rest of the group further into the cave.

You walk beside Sokka with Momo on your shoulder, the nomads, singing and playing their instruments behind the two of you. You turn to look at Sokka and you roll your eyes at the sight of the scowl on his face. You elbow him in the side, giving him a look that says: ‘lighten up, will you?’. He just rolls his eyes and you scoff in annoyance at his stubbornness. “Oh, don't let the cave in get you down. Don't let the falling rocks turn your smile into a frown. When the tunnels are darkest, that's when you need a clown, hey!” Chong sings as he and his group pass the two of you. “Don't let the cave in get you down, Sokka!” he finishes off looking directly at your twin brother, making you giggle softly while Sokka glares at both you and Chong.

“Oh, great! Your plans have led us to another dead end!” Moku complains towards Sokka. “At least I’m thinking of ideas and trying to get us out of here, Moku.” Sokka says defensively, glaring at him. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute; we’re thinking of ideas?!” Chong asks, making Sokka turn to him with an annoyed look on his face. “'Cause I've had an idea for, like, an hour now.” “Yes! We’re all thinking of ideas!” Sokka explodes, causing you to elbow him in the side while glaring at him as he glares back at you while rubbing his side. “Well, then listen to this: if love is the key out of here, then all we need to do is play a love song.” Chong answers. Sokka smacks his forehead as Chong begins to play his guitar. “Come on Sokka.” you say to him as you follow Chong and the others. “Even if you're lost you can't lose the love because it's in your heart, ooooohhhhh…” Chong sings as we walk further into the cave, hoping that this song will help us get out of here.

Chong is still strumming his guitar. He stops, though, when ominous sounds begin to echo through the darkness. Momo jumps from your shoulder as the noises continue in the darkness in front of you. Out of the darkness a huge pack of wolf-bats emerge running towards you and the others. They fly over and around Sokka, who flails frantically about. They’re gone in an instant, flying down the tunnel. “Hey-hey, you saved us, Sokka!” Chong exclaims happily. “No, they were trying to get away from something.” you say to him as Sokka helps you up from the ground. “From what?” Chong asks, confused.

That’s when the wall behind Chong and the others explodes and the tunnel around us quakes. A large, furry, brown creature appears from the dust. Behind you another explosion of rock reveals another creature. You gasp in surprise at the sight of the two creatures, not knowing if they’ll attack us or not. The creature in front of Sokka bends earth around Sokka, pinning him down and separating him from you and the others. The creature stomps the ground in front of him and knocks Sokka backwards onto the ground. “Sokka!” you exclaim, wanting to get to your brother before he gets hurt, or worse… killed… “No!” Chong says, grabbing your shoulders, keeping you from moving.

As Sokka inches backwards from the advancing creature, his fingers accidentally strums against the strings of Chong’s guitar. At the sound, the creature in front of him stops his advance looking down at him curiously. Sokka looks up at the creature, expecting to get killed. He then realizes what’s going on, getting to his feet with the guitar, strumming the strings with his fingers. “Hey, those things are music lovers!” Chong exclaims. “Badger Moles, coming towards me.” Sokka tries to sing to the one note he’s strumming, not doing too well in your opinion. “Come on guys, help me out.” He sings, turning to you and the others with a worried look on his face. At Sokka’s request, Chong and his troupe stand and begin to play their instruments and sing. “The big bad Badger Moles who work in the tunnels, hate the Wolf Bats but love the sounds.” Chong sings as you run over to Sokka giving him a hug, glad that he’s alright.

After the Badger Moles are calmed down by the music, you all decide to use them to get out of the caves. You, Sokka, and Momo climb onto one while Chong and the others climb onto the other Badger Moles’ back still singing and playing their instruments making the Badger Moles lead you all out of the cave.

About ten minutes later, the Badger Moles break through the cliff of the mountain, taking you, Sokka and the nomads outside. You grin as you see Appa, Aang and Katara also out of the cave, safe and sound. “Sokka! (Y/N)!” Katara shouts with a smile at the sight of you and Sokka. You and Sokka slide down the side of the Badger Mole, running over to Katara and Aang. “How did you guys get out?” Sokka asks. “Just like the legend says: we let love lead the way.” Aang answers with a smile and a slight blush on his cheeks as he shrugs. “Really?” Sokka asks. “We let huge ferocious beasts lead our way.” he continues before he turns and waves goodbye to the Badger Moles as they turn to go back into the cave.

After the Badger Moles close the mountain behind them, you hug Katara, glad that she and Aang are alright before letting her hug Sokka. Katara lets him go after hugging him for a moment or two, looking at his forehead. “Why is your forehead all red?” she asks him. You’re about to answer her question, when Chong interrupts you from doing something. “Nobody react to what I’m about to tell you. I think that kid might be the Avatar.” He says, his voice dead serious. Sokka smacks his forehead again, answering Katara’s earlier question and you let out a giggle as Sokka glares at the nomad as he stares at Sokka’s red forehead.

In the corner of your eye you see the rest of Chong’s troupe walk away from Aang who is waving goodbye to them. At this, Chong takes off his flower necklace, placing it around Sokka’s neck. “Sokka, I hope you learned a little something about not letting the plans get in the way of the journey.” he says before he hugs him. “Just play your songs.” Sokka says sullenly. Chong releases him with a big grin on his face at such an excellent suggestion. “Hey, good plan!” “Even if you're lost you can't lose the love because it's in your heart. Ooooohhhh…” Chong sings, as he and the rest of his troupe walk away.

About a half an hour passes and you and the others are currently walking up a small hill where on the other side, we will see the Earth Kingdom city of Omashu. “The journey was long and annoying, but now you get to see what it's really about - the destination. I present to you the Earth Kingdom city of O…” Sokka says as the four of you make your way up the hill. He hesitates. “Oh, no…”

Wanting to know what he's looking at with such a worried face, you walk up to him to see what used to be a magnificent city that’s now smoking and also appears to be on fire in several places. Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of the large flag of the Fire Nation, hanging on the wall in front of the city. You can’t believe that the Fire Nation is one step closer to winning the war… The last place that people can be safe is Ba-Sing Se…

#x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #zuko #zuko x reader #atla #atla x reader #a:tla #a:tla x reader #avatar: the last airbender x reader #avatar: the last airbender

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slytherinshua · 1 year

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Marshmallow Love

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre and tags: fluff. friends to lovers. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: kissing. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: dino x reader. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 756. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: dino's been wrecking me so here's this fic lmao

You sat at the campfire, roasting your marshmallow reluctantly. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t know why your friends had left, but they hadn’t let you come with them. They had left you out. It didn’t make sense, but you still did what they told you to, and stayed by the campfire.

The embers were slowly dying, and the little warmth they had brought you was starting to fade away. The wind from the ocean brought a chill to your body, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a warmer sweater. You wished you never agreed to come on this trip in the first place. If it wasn’t for Chan’s persuading, you wouldn’t have.

And speak of the devil- Chan ran out from the woods, seeing your figure crouched alone at the campfire. He gasped a breath. He wasn’t too late. Your friends, the same ones that had deserted you, had ran to find Chan and told him you were by yourself on the beach, but that he had to go quickly otherwise he might miss his chance.

Chan had run faster than he ever had in his life, desperate to get there before you left. And he had succeeded. He breathed, trying to recall the steps to Mingyu’s flirt class 101, but coming up with nothing.

He just decided to give it his best shot, and if he messed it up, at least he had taken the chance. He walked up to you, and you turned, smiling now that you weren't going to be alone anymore.

“Want a marshmallow? I have extra.” You muttered, passing him the bag of marshmallows and package of skewers. He stayed silent.

“Y/n-”

“Do you know where the others went? I think Dokyeom wanted to tell me something.”

Chan shook his head, taking another breath, “Y/n.”

“Did you get to try the pizza balls? They were surprisingly good.” You continued, making Chan look around as if something would help him get your attention.

“Y/n?”

You hummed in response, “I think we’re going on a hike tomorrow. That’s going to be a nightmare… I wonder if I can escape without the others noticing.”

“Y/n.” Chan said desperately and your eyes widened.

“What? Was I ignoring you- I’m so sorry.” You whispered the last part, truly feeling bad for your rambling, but Chan just giggled.

“Can I talk now?” He asked, a smile on his face. You nodded.

“Do you know why the others deserted you?” You shook your head this time, ears listening closely to hear the answer.

“It was so I had a chance with you alone…” He mumbled and you blushed slightly, “Remember when I said there was something I wanted to do on this trip?” He looked up at you, his heart pounding in his chest so loudly he thought you might be able to hear it.

You nodded again, your voice getting caught up in your throat. You always felt a bit nervous around Chan which is why you tried to talk so much. It made your nervousness less obvious.

“Have you ever… thought… about… me?” He asked, wishing it had come out a bit smoother, but he was too nervous for that.

You nodded, finding your voice again. Clearing your throat, you whispered, “Yes. A lot actually.” It made you happy to admit for some reason. You had a hope that this was going where you wanted it to, but all you could do now is wait with baited breath for Chan to continue.

“I think… I think I might be in love with you.”

You lost your breath again. It was like his confession had sucked all the air out of you, and all you could do was just stare at him in shock.

“A-are you going to say anything…?” He asked nervously, his eyes as wide as yours.

“What do you want me to say?” You murmured, just as nervous as he was.

“Anything. Do anything.” He breathed, practically wanting to disappear at this point.

“Can I do this then…?” Suddenly your nose was brushing against his, your eyes fluttering shut as you pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips. He blushed furiously, not even having time to close his eyes before the kiss was already over.

“Kiss me again.” He said quickly, his hand catching yours before you could move back to your spot. You obliged him, pressing your lips to his in a longer kiss this time, satisfying him much better than the first one.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @ddenoudepression,, @hannahsophie0103

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thekimspoblog · 3 months

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For the record, I did finally see "American Fiction" a few nights ago. I am recommending you watch this movie, so I don't want to spoil it too much, but I wanted to share my thoughts.

When a slice-of-life movie is done well, I can really enjoy it, but if that aspect fails, a movie can become very cloying and tedious. In this case however, it was done well. "American Fiction" is a very cozy, very digestible movie that just follows this one family through the highs and lows of their summer. There are multiple subplots which have little to do with eachother, let alone the main story, but that's okay; it feels more realistic that way and the subplots are quite charming in their own right. The dialogue expresses familiar sentiments from other movies, but in a way that still feels fresh. In a sense, the trailer almost feels like a prank on the audience; white moviegoers were promised a mean-spirited satire on race relations, and instead what we got was 90 minutes of black people existing comfortably with minimal conflict. But if you're disappointed, that's on you. Setting aside the politics altogether, it's just refreshing to - every once in a while - watch a quieter movie about normal people being kind to eachother. Nobody has to die in order for a drama to be good... well... almost nobody.

The A-Story is basically just a rip-off of Spike Lee's "Bamboozled". Like I said, the story we saw in the trailer really only made up less than a third of the plot. And if you're upset about the bait-and-switch, "American Fiction" succeeded at what it was trying to do, but... also if you really wanted a movie about a writer pushing the envelope of prejudice for personal gain, you can still just go and watch "Bamboozled". For that matter, "Bamboozled" was already vaguely the same plot as Mel Brooks' "The Producers". I guess my main question is what it says about the psyche of white people, when you compare "American Fiction" to a movie made 24 years prior which had basically the same premise. Does it represent improvement, that a film can make the same social commentary without resorting to the same extremes to get the point across? Or have we grown more sensitive; is "American Fiction" a more toned-down version of the story simply because you could never make "Bamboozled" in the PC world of today? I hope it's the former. You probably couldn't remake "Bamboozled" today, but more importantly, "American Fiction" couldn't have been made in the 90's; the imagery of Monk's book was so commonplace back then, I don't think it would have occurred to white audiences that anything was even amiss. On the other hand, I think the white people in "American Fiction" are somehow more cartoonish; I remember a few moments while watching "Bamboozled" where I went, "Oh shit! Ok, I have said/done/thought stuff like that IRL", and I never had that moment watching "American Fiction". I call the movie "digestible" and "cozy" because I was able to get through the whole thing and not once did it feel like the movie was attacking me. But again, even if your movie sets out to make white people uncomfortable, that's still centering the story too much around our emotions; "American Fiction" had the more important goal of simply telling a story where black people are allowed to be happy.

The cringe comedy is extremely funny. This is the main reason I'm recommending the movie as lighthearted fun. Half the jokes boil down to "Jeffery Wright is annoyed" (and IMO that itself is enough to sustain a film), but there were also some lines of dialogue which completely caught me off guard. The movie is still more CUTE than it is FUNNY, but for a "cute" movie I was laughing almost all the way through. The other film I'd compare "American Fiction" to is "Dan in Real Life", and I definitely prefer this one, both in terms of likeable characters and quality of dialogue.

Spoilers ahead! I liked how the story had three endings, and like "Clue", the audience is left to pick which one they want. I still won't be spoiling what happens but I did want to talk about this part: It's fine that Ending A was never explained in detail; Monk has made his feelings about the situation pretty clear at this point; anyone with two braincells to rub together can use their imaginations and guess what he would have said at that podium. Ending B is pretty obviously the correct answer. Not only does a "rom-com" ending fit with the tone of the rest of the movie, but I think it gives the best resolution to what the story was actually about. I said none of the racist characters made me embarrassed about my own behavior, but that doesn't mean I didn't see Monk's personality flaws as a reflection of myself. "Tortured artist realizes at the 11th hour that his judgmental attitude has been isolating him from the people he cares about" is a theme I very much relate to, and it's the kind of story I've been wanting to write for years. Ending C was a little bit predictable, but still worked as the climactic punchline. It was the moment the story went from feeling like an unintentional ripoff of "Bamboozled" to a more direct parody of it. Ending D causes the rest of the story to become confusing, but it at least retroactively excuses some of the more contrived/cliched moments which happened at the beginning of the film.

So yeah. In conclusion, good movie, little forgettable but pretty damn funny. Go see it. Jeffery Wright is a DILF and I could watch another 90 minutes of him meandering around the beach, staring soulfully out at the ocean.

#jeffery wright #american fiction #movie review #cw white people having opinions

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tildeathiwillwrite · 4 months

Text

Abduction (Magician's Bait, Part 1)

Whumpuary 2024 No. 9

"Make it stop" | Restrained | Hair grabbing

Whumpuary Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

next part ->

Context: Damian has been abducted by a dark-magic user who plans to use him as bait for her real prize. Unfortunately for him, she doesn't plan on letting him go once she's gotten what she wants.

TW: Abduction, restrained, head injury/mild concussion, darkness, hostage, used as bait, experiment mention, dark magic-type

Damian awoke in darkness, bound to a hard chair by rough ropes, his back and neck aching. He blinked rapidly, heart pounding, as he tried to remember how he’d gotten there. He'd been at home... and then... here. Wherever the deeps ‘here’ was.

He tugged at the ropes but only succeeded in bruising his wrists. Whoever had tied him here used strong knots, and they’d positioned his hands so he couldn’t reach the small knife strapped to his right thigh. As the thought crossed his mind, Damian was forced to consider the distinct lack of familiar weight on that leg and concluded the knife had been confiscated.

Shame.

Somewhere nearby, a door creaked, and cool air washed over Damian’s face. “Oh, you’re awake,” someone said softly. The door clicked shut behind them. Damian squinted, expecting the room to be flooded with light at any moment.

The light never came.

The person who’d entered—his captor, no doubt—chuckled softly. “No need for that, esteemed guest. I can see you just fine.”

Damian blinked in confusion. “What? What did you do to me?”

“Oh… nothing permanent… yet.”

A shiver ran down his spine at the emphasis on the word ‘yet’. “You’re a magician, then.”

Another laugh. “Oh, good guess princeling! A very good guess, but not quite.”

Damian sensed the displacement of air a split second before she seized his hair and yanked him backward, tipping back the chair so it was on the verge of toppling over. Damian yelped and instinctively stiffened as if that alone would prevent him from falling.

“Perhaps you need to be re-educated on the various disciplines of magicians,” she hissed in his ear. “But I’ll give you another shot. A magician would need to mark you with ink to do away with your sight. I, however, am not bound by such limits.”

Damian’s breath caught in his throat. “You’re… you’re a Stalker, aren’t you?”

He could almost feel the self-satisfied smirk on her face. “You’re a clever one! Very clever indeed.”

“What do you want with me?” Damian couldn’t hide how his voice shook. It was bad enough when he’d briefly thought she was a magician. To know his captor was a Stalker… that was worse. Far worse. “I’m no magician.”

“Darling,” the Stalker drawled, “that’s need-to-know information!”

Damian clenched his jaw. His scalp was beginning to ache. “I would argue that I do need to know, considering you kidnapped me from my own home!”

The Stalker seemed to consider this. As the seconds ticked by, Damian grew more and more tense. She could kill him with a single word. But, logically, if the Stalker wanted him dead, it would've happened before now. But all it would take is one word, and she could make him wish he was dead. So he’d been told, anyway. But from what he’d observed of his captor, it seemed that the stories weren’t as far-fetched as he'd once assumed.

Which was why he was desperate to know why she’d abducted him, since, to his knowledge, all Stalkers desire is more power. And they can get that from magicians, other Stalkers, and Draigo, not regular humans.

The Stalker hummed softly. “Let’s just say I have a far… more… valuable target in mind. You were just easier to get to. And when she comes for you, I’ll set you free.”

Damian’s head throbbed, protesting the amount of weight placed upon it. “Why,” he said through gritted teeth, “do I get the sense you’re lying?”

“About what, princeling?” Her voice was sickeningly sweet, and he shuddered.

“About letting me go.”

She laughed, an abrupt, harsh sound that startled Damian. He instinctively tried to flinch away, only to be forcefully reminded of the hold she had on his hair and the ropes binding him to the chair.

“You really are a clever one!” The Stalker cackled, “Impressive!”

Damian waited, fear setting his nerves on edge, until her laughter finally died down. “...Are you going to kill me?” He asked softly, afraid to hear her answer.

“Oh, princeling…” She murmured in an almost gentle tone. Her grip on his hair loosened slightly, and the chair tilted back another inch. Damian’s heart jumped into his throat. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With those final words, she let go of him. Damian experienced a fleeting hope that he could tip the chair back the right way, but to no avail. His wrists, bound to the back of the chair, hit the ground first. The back of his head immediately followed. Pain flared up his arms and throughout his skull.

Just as quickly as he had fallen, the Stalker pulled the chair upright. Something warm, wet, and sticky ran down the back of Damian’s neck; his head pounded with every heartbeat. The floor underneath him seemed to tilt and sway like they were on the deck of a ship.

“You might be a valuable hostage,” the Stalker stated, “but you are even more valuable as a test subject. Those are very hard to come by. So no, I won’t kill you. Not until you beg me for death.”

The door creaked, and Damian briefly enjoyed the slight relief provided by the cool air from outside before she slammed the door behind her. He listened to her receding footsteps until he was sure she was out of earshot. He let out a ragged breath and began to shake, tears dripping down his face. What did I do to deserve this?

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